#also yeah I don’t have 10 people I interact with on here what fucking of it

[fallingformatt]

“IM NOT THAT SCARY AFTER ALL” C.S.

dealer Chris x fem!reader

summary: what happens when you go to the beach with your dealer in the middle of the night?

warnings: smut! 18+ unprotected sex, mentions weed

word count: 1.9k

a/n: heyy everyone my name is lily and this is my first fic, please don’t be hard on me. Leave suggestions or requests! Hope you enjoy

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I kept tossing and turning in my bed, I couldn't fall asleep for the life of me it was so hot in my room that even only wearing my oversized t-shirt that barely covers my ass and a thong I was still too hot to fall asleep. I picked up my phone to check the time. "Fuck" I said under my breath as the phone screen read 2:37 AM "Well there is only one thing that can help me," I said to myself as I swiftly hopped out of my bed, rushing to my vanity. I pulled out my pink 'makeup bag' which really wasn't a makeup bag but a special bag that holds weed for when I want to smoke and that's the beauty of it, my parents would never think to look in my makeup bag that is placed on my vanity, hiding in plain sight.

I pull on the zipper revealing the contents of the bag: some papers a lighter and a small tin container "Bingo" I say to myself getting excited to smoke. I opened the container and was left shocked. It was empty not even a little left for me to smoke. I sighed as I knew what my two options were. Option one go back to bed and try to fall asleep in this hell-like heat or option two message my dealer who I'm scared of. I try to see him as rarely as possible. Chris is so hot but also hella scary and always seems cold and distant so I always kept it short and always buy enough to last me at least a month. I weighed out my options and decided that there was no way that I was falling asleep without smoking so I grabbed my phone.

"hey r u still up?" I texted him and waited for an answer hoping he was still up so I could get my weed.

"yeah i'm still up, need something ma?" he answered. He always called me ma or princess which I found weird but never dared to say anything about it.

"can I buy my usual? im all out" I text right back happy that he's still awake

"sure ma gonna be there in five" he answers

I quickly go out of my room and check if my parents are asleep. I go down the stairs and quickly sneak out of the backdoor as I usually do since it's the furthest from my parents room and they wouldn't hear the door opening or closing. I go around my house and he's already at my front door waiting in his car. I quickly get in the car. "hey ma I like what ur wearing" he says smirking. I look down and realize I forgot to put on shorts or pants and now I'm sitting in his car bare ass on the seat as my shirt raised up a bit while sitting down. "well I rushed outside and it's really hot outside" I said quietly. "Do you have my weed?" I continued right after. "Of course I do ma, here," he said and pushed a baggie with weed in my hand. My eyes lit up seeing my goods and a smile creeps on my face as I reach out my hand with cash "Damn, you're so excited over some weed. You know it's not good to do drugs right?" he says in a cold tone taking my money. "Well, this weed is the only way I'm falling asleep in this weather. Besides you should want people to buy weed it's how you earn your money" I say back. "Do you wanna go somewhere cooler?" Chris asks. " Well I don't know, my parents are asleep" I answer. "Exactly they won't even know you left the house," he says smirking again. "You've got a point, sure let's go," I say.

This interaction was a bit different than all other ones. He didn't seem as cold as usual but maybe I'm just imagining things.

We have been driving for at least 10 minutes now and I'm sitting on my side both my legs horizontally on the car seat as I look through the window listening to the music that's quietly playing in the car. "Where are we going? You never told me" I ask as I turn my head. I saw Chris looking at my ass as it was fully visible in the position I'm sitting in. "We're almost there" his eyes quickly shot to the road as he answered. "Were you looking at my ass?" I say changing my sitting position. "Well ur the one who's not wearing any pants" he scoffs coldly. "I didn't know we would go somewhere" I quickly answer. "We're here," Chris says and I look outside the window. We are at the beach, the moon is shining and the waves look so calming. We both get out of the car and head to the shore.

We find a good spot and sit down. We are the only ones here no people in sight, just me and him. Well if I think about it he could kill me and no one would ever know, the thought of that made me uneasy. "You good ma?" he asks "Yeah I'm fine" I answer looking at the pretty waves as the warm breeze hits my skin. "This feels so nice," I say quietly. "It does, do you want to smoke?" he asks holding a joint that he had just rolled in between his fingers "You bet I do" I answer and he puts the joint in between my lips and lights it. I take a puff and let the smoke out. We finish the joint and sit for a bit.

I look at Chris and notice his beautiful features in the moonlight, my gaze moving from his hair to his lips, as my eyes travel down further my eyes fall to his crotch and I feel my panties dampen. He turns his head looking at me and his clear blue eyes with a hint of red surrounding them meet mine. "what's up ma?" he asks not breaking the eye contact. "You know, you're not as scary as I thought," I say looking down at my fingers and playing with the sand beneath me. "Why do you think I'm scary, do you think I'm going to kill you or something" he shoots back a question. "That thought did cross my mind if I'm being honest. You're always so cold towards me" I say and he chuckles at my confession. "I would never kill such a pretty lady. I always love seeing you ma" he says and a smile appears on my face.

"You wanna go for a swim?" he asks "I don't have a swimsuit" I answer "Neither do I, let's go anyway, cmon ma don't be shy," Chris says looking at me shooting me a quick smirk before standing up and pulling down his shorts and his shirt running towards the waves. I get up and pull off my t-shirt throwing it into the sand and covering my bare chest with my hands as I have no bra on.

I start running towards the ocean as well, seeing Chris already in the water fully swimming. I swim to him and he looks at me staring me down, till he glances at my boobs and licks his lips. "Kiss me," he demands with a lustful voice. He takes my hand and pulls me closer until our bodies meet pushing his lips onto mine unexpectedly. His tongue exploring my mouth before breaking the kiss. He moves to kissing my neck sucking on it leaving a mark. I tilt my head back and let out a quiet moan as he hits my sweet spot. "Oh you like that don't you ma," he says and moves to kiss my collarbones leaving a trail of kisses till he gets to my breasts nibbling on my nipple. "Oh fuck" I moan. "Tell me what you want, and I'm gonna give it to you princess," Chris says in a deep voice. "I want you" I manage to say. He grabs my hand and starts running towards the shore as I'm following him. We get to the shore where our clothes are.

I lay down and he crawls in between my legs his chain dangling above my face his eyes full of lust staring at my lips before smashing his lips on mine once again as we share a passionate kiss. He pulls down my thong not breaking the kiss, doing the same for his boxers. As we deepen the kiss his fingers move up and down my heat before slamming them into me. I throw my head back as a loud moan leaves my lips. "Oh fuuck Chris" I moan out loud as he continues to thrust his fingers into me at a rapid pace. "Tell me what you want," Chris says as his voice grows deep "I-I nee-" I try to say but can't finish the sentence. Chris suddenly pulls his fingers out of me and my eyes shoot open in frustration "Full sentences princess. Tell me what you want" he says his eyes darkening with arousal "I need- I need you in me Chris" I manage to squeeze out as my hips buck up yarning for him. His thumb presses against my lips before I open my mouth sucking on it. Without any warning, he pushes deeply into me causing me to let out a scream-like moan, tears forming in my eyes. Without letting me adjust he starts pounding into me his tip kissing my g-spot "Oh my god Chris you're so big" I moan as I throw my head back. He pounds deeply into me keeping the same rhythm hitting my g-spot with every thrust "Look at me" he says but I keep my eyes shut. "I said look at me princess," his voice getting deeper than before as he grabbed my jaw, and our eyes met. "Look at you, taking me so good princess," he says as he pushes his lips on mine my hand travels to his wet hair lightly pulling it and he places his hand on my thigh, our bodies sticking to each other like glue.

He continues to thrust deep and hard as my moans slip against his lips, my hands traveling to his back. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back, rolling his eyes and letting out an animalistic growl I feel my climax coming. "I- I- I'm close don't stop please don't stop Chris" I cry out as I arch my back, digging my nails into his back leaving scratch marks, bucking up my hips to feel him even deeper. Chris lets out a moan as his thrusts become more aggressive and faster. I dig my nails into the sand holding on to anything I can "I'm so close I'm gonna cum" I moan out as I feel my walls tightening around his cock. Chris hearing that thrusts in me harder than ever making me almost scream out in pleasure. His breathing became hitched as he trusted a few more times before cumming letting out a loud moan, leading to the knot in my stomach to unravel, I let out a pornographic-like moan as my orgasm took over me.

As we both came down from our highs, he pulled his dick out of me kissing me before laying in the sand next to me. He turned his head to look at me and said "Come here ma" and pulled me closer as I laid my head on his chest. We watched as the sun started to come up "See I'm not so scary after all" Chris said with a chuckle. "We should do this again" he continued and I nodded my head in agreement. "Common let's get you home," he said and we got dressed heading for his car.

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 5 - Confrontation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: While out for a walk, you run into everyone’s ‘favorite’ Overlord, resulting in a brutal altercation. Recognizing the danger you put yourself in, Alastor is all too willing to offer another deal. 

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, Valentino so yeah, mentions of blood and bodily harm, eventual smut (it will return), actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+ MDNI

3.7k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 (You're on it!) Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

When you asked Alastor to prove himself to you, you half expected him to just continue ignoring you around the hotel. He seemed like the type to keep any personal interaction behind closed doors. Keeping some privacy isn’t a bad thing. Before the deal, he stuck to doing his job around the hotel, helping Charlie with whatever new idea or ask she had, and broadcasting his evening radio show. Every so often he might have a drink at the bar, making small talk with Husk and Nifty, otherwise he kept to himself in the shadows.

These last few weeks were slightly different. If he grabbed a coffee, he also poured one for you (always using one of his mugs). He made a point of being at every group activity, standing practically on top of you with a hand on the small of your back. He often offered to accompany you into town if you were going for a walk. “I just enjoy your company dear” he would reason. You’re far from complaining, however, the other residents were starting to notice.

“Alright what’s the deal?” Husk thumps your drink on the bar, his aggressive tone catching you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Al – what the fuck is going on there? I thought you had more common sense than associating yourself with his sorts.”

Fuckin ouch.

“I have plenty of sense Husker,” you hissed with irritation at what he was insinuating. Vaggie and Angel silently take their seats next to you, feeling the tension of the conversation. “– and if you must know we discovered we have more in common than we thought. You of all people should know keeping someone of his sorts on good terms is wise. Thank you for your concern though.” You throw back your drink, slamming the empty glass into the bar as you stand up.  

Husk tries to smooth over your venom, “Listen kid, you’re still pretty new to Hell…I’m just –“

“Thank you again Husk! Talking with you is always a pleasure.” You cut him off, putting on your jacket and walking towards the hotel doors.

Footsteps trail behind you - followed by a hand on your shoulder, “Hey doll, don’t be too upset with him. We all just….we worry is all. Smiles is still Mr. Mystery pants. Charlie seems to be the only one not worried about his intentions.” Angel offers you a cautious grin. His smile always seems to brighten your mood.

You place your hand on top of his, “Thank you hun. I’m not mad and I understand everyone’s… apprehension…. But I need you guys to trust that I know what I’m doing. You all have enough to worry about around here.” R̵͚̀ŭ̴͓l̷̥̓ȩ̷͒ ̷̢́#̵̧͌3̶̫̈́ ̴̬̾N̶̬͊e̷͇͂v̵̞̚ę̴̿ŕ̵̖ ̵̟̈́ḅ̶͂r̷̤̔í̸͜n̴̳͌g̴̫͐ ̶̢͠a̸̳͝n̶͕̐y̴̓ͅo̸͎̐n̷̚͜ȩ̷̇ ̸̪̑ẗ̶͈́ő̴͜o̷̺̊ ̵̛̬c̴̘̀ľ̴̹o̶͇͗s̸̠̾e̴͇͝

Needing some time to yourself, you decide to take a stroll through Pentagram City. The streets could be dangerous when traveling alone, but Carmilla was kind enough to let you leave with some…equipment. Like a nervous tick, you palm the carmine knife sheathed on your waist. You always hope there isn’t a need to use it but can never be too careful.

Heaven’s embassy clock ticked down, showing less than 100 days until the next extermination. You sigh at the thought, taking notes as you walk. Every year you mapped out places you would be needed most, where you could hide sinners, alleys you could use to corner or escape the Exorcists. Maybe Alastor could help me this time? He did say together we would be more powerful.

Lost in your plans, you don’t realize you’ve started pacing the streets of the V’s territory. It isn’t until you hear someone yelling down an alley that you become aware of your surroundings.

“Listen here, you little fuck – you’re our lowest earner this month and I’m in a bad mood so…” a large demon pins a rabbit-like sinner to the alley wall, pulling a pink and white gun from his hip. “I figured you could help me BLOW off some steam. Now, now, baby - hold still for me and don’t make too much of a mess hmm?”

You look closer and recognize the tall moth demon.

Fucking Valentino.

You see red and make your way down the alley. Hearing your footsteps he turns but not before you blindside him, body slamming him to the ground. The sound of metal echoes as his gun slides across the pavement. The poor sinner runs off without a word. You’re welcome, I guess. You bend over the disoriented Valentino.

“Tough luck being out here today Val – Coincidentally I’m also in a bad mood so let’s have a chat.”

With a gust of his wings Val pushes himself off the ground and towers over you. “Ohhhhh aren’t you CUTE. Ya know people would pay good money to see a spicy chiquita like you fucked into her place, however that little stunt just sealed a different fate for you.” Smoke floods around you, wrapping tightly around your body. Your feet leave the ground as he pulls you close enough to run his tongue across your cheek. “Hmmm…tasty. Maybe I shouldn’t kill you. I could do quite a bit with this body of yours.”

A cynical laugh erupts from your chest. “Oh please – set me down. Save us both the embarrassment.” He cocks an eyebrow at your demand and tightens his smoke’s grip.

Feeling the crack of your ribs almost knocks all the air out of your lungs, but your rage is stronger than any pain. I’ve watched him hurt Angel one too many times. 

“Wrong answer Val.” You concentrate your power, hands aglow as they conjure tiny, razor-sharp needles. With a swift flick of your wrists, they pierce and slice through Val's wings. “Cool thing about needles, they can help pull you together or tear...you…apart.” He howls from the pain, loosening his grip on you. With a little more room to move, you pull yourself back and headbutt him with so much force his glasses shatter. The blow makes his smoke disappear and you drop back to the ground. Time for some fun.

Unable to see clearly - Val frantically feels around for his gun. Pathetic. Crushing his hand with one foot, you use the other to deliver a full force kick to his chin, sending his gold tooth down the alley. “You little BITCH! Who the fuck do you think you are!?” he growls as blood pours from his mouth. You climb on top of him, pinning him down with a knee slowly crushing his dick. Screams of pure agony echo off the surrounding walls.    

You grab his face with one hand and pull the knife from your waist, digging the point into Val’s cheek, “You lay your hands on any of your employees again, I’ll make sure this knife gets buried into your chest. Now be a good boy and let me decorate that pretty little face.” You turn his head and hastily carve “spurc” into his cheek. He cries out with each attempt to move, feeling your knee dig deeper into him. “Shhhh you can take it baby, come on, we’re almost done. That’s what you tell them, right? NOW HOLD STILL.” Mocking his pain you turn his head the other way, slicing “issime” into his other cheek. Blood pours from his face, staining your hands and wrists. “Spurcissime – complete filth. Quite fitting I think.”

You stand up to admire your work and release the demon writhing on the ground. Time to go. Turning to leave, you hear Val call out to someone. What is he crying about now? Without warning you’re hurled against the brick wall - your head taking the worst of the impact. As you struggle to pull your body off the ground, a large, blue claw wraps around your neck to pick you up. Between the blow to your head and your now rapidly declining oxygen, your strength dwindles.

“Are you fucking kidding me Val –You got your ass beat by Carmilla Carmine’s secretary!?”

How the fuck does he remember me?

“No she’s not –“ Val tries to warn but is ultimately ignored.

“It’s okay sweetheart. She can replace you. Sucks though. I always enjoyed staring at that ass. Made the meetings less insufferable.” Vox’s grip tightens around your neck and his other hand slides up your thigh, starting to grope every inch of you. Your vision begins to tunnel as your body goes limp, his grasp controlled and unforgiving.

Just before complete darkness takes over, a familiar voice booms in your ears, “ENOUGH!” The hand around your neck releases and the world around you spins, fading out then back in. You pull yourself to your hands and knees and try to gasp. A stabbing pain rips across your sides with every attempt to collect the air around you. Any adrenaline your body had was long gone now. Oh yeah, cracked ribs. Ouch.

Looking up you realize you’re in Alastor’s room. Any other day you would have inhaled the soft musk filling the air, but right now you can barely take a breath. “Alastor?” you whimper, throat hoarse from being nearly crushed. “Hello? Alastor?” Still silence. You lay back on the floor to try to steady your breathing and wait for the Radio Demon to make an appearance.

It only takes a few minutes to see his shadow appear, followed by Alastor himself. The initial relief you feel is quickly replaced by concern. His jacket was ripped up, and blood trailed across his mouth. “Shit are you okay? What happened?” you try to move to him but double over.

He huffs wiping the blood from his face. “No, you don’t get to ask the questions right now.” His words were near inaudible over the static. He was livid. “I want to know what the FUCK you were doing out in V territory ALONE!?” He rather unkindly picks you up, prompting throaty cries of pain and protest.

Alastor brings you to the bathroom and sits you up on the counter while he digs through his medical kit. You finally gather enough breath to speak, “Last I checked, I don’t need permission to walk around the city. Have you forgotten who I am? I am not some stupid -”

“Well apparently you are.” He bites at you without making eye contact – continuing to pull apart the kit.

Tears well up in your eyes. Too tired to fight them back you let their warmth coat your face. They steadily stream down and drop into your blood-soaked hands. You try to squeak out an explanation, “He…he just hurts so many people. He almost killed Angel. If you ask – “

“I didn’t.” he cuts in.

“I didn’t know he would get Vox in –“

“I don’t care.”

“FUCK Alastor what is your problem!?” you snap, tears burning as they run down your cheeks.

He slams his hands on either side of your legs, caging in your body and leaning right down to your face. If he wasn’t pissed right now, this would be so attractive.

“My problem? What is my problem?” Alastor’s antlers expand and a red ‘x’ glows on his forehead. His body grows and looms over you as his grip starts to crack the countertop, “Do you forget who they are? Of course Vox got involved! And if I hadn’t stepped in, he would have done who knows what to you! His hands already started to defile you - Is that what you wanted? To die at the hand of a perverted, unscrupulous Overlord?” His words were like knives, and you despised every slice he made.

His outburst ignites your own rage, making your demon form flare, “No, Damnit, you don’t get it! Down here you’ve only ever lived for yourself! You’ve never watched someone you care about almost die because of some piece of shit! You’ve never felt the need to tear that person limb from limb for what they did! I wanted to make him suffer and I DID!“ you scream at him until your voice gives out and your body gives up. A deafening silence falls over the bathroom. The only sounds reverberating off the walls are your stifled sobs. Some from anger, some from pain. Ṟ̸̂u̸̫͂l̴̟̈e̷̩͛ ̸͖̽#̷̹̀4̴̎͜ ̴̰̇Ṉ̷̀e̸̲͌v̴̻̈́e̵̥͘ṛ̸͛ ̵̗̑l̴͍̃ė̶̠t̶͈̾ ̴̣̒y̷̬͋ò̵̭u̸̩̽ŕ̶̼ ̴̪̾ẉ̵̑ȅ̴̩ą̴̕k̵̗̐n̶̻̅ȇ̷̳s̸̢͋s̸͖͂e̷̡͛s̶̘̍ ̴͍̏š̴̢h̶̼̐ǫ̴͊w̷͉͝

 Alastor shrinks back to normal. He cups your face gently to clean off the dirt and blood – tending to the few scrapes across your cheeks. You keep your eyes down to avoid his stare. The last thing you want to see is pity from the demon, at least not right now.

As he kneels to clean your hands, his buttery voice finally breaks the quiet, “You know, had you said all of that yesterday, you would have been absolutely right.” He looks up, noticing your head tilt in confusion. “Seeing his hands on you triggered something in me, and I wanted nothing more than to rip apart that piece of shit for….trying to take you away from me. So yes, I do understand. But that doesn’t mean I’m still not cross with you for going by yourself. You’re lucky I had my shadow follow you.” A sly smile flashes up at you. In that moment a gnawing thought crosses your mind. Does he actually care for me? Or is he only afraid to lose the power I can give him?

Either way, he did save you, so you conjure enough strength in your voice to whisper, “Thank you Alastor,” and place a kiss on his forehead.

Once he finishes cleaning the cuts on your hands, he stands and hooks a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His red eyes dart back and forth between yours as if trying to read every thought you could have. A smile paints his face but you can see something more. Worry? Sadness? Regret? You want to question him but the intensity of his stare has you frozen.

“I want to make another deal.” he finally says in a whisper, holding his gaze. Your stomach drops. This is what you’ve been worried about. That he was going to try to break down your walls until you willingly promise him your soul, bounding everything you have to him. R̴̤͑u̵͓̒l̷͊ͅḛ̸̒ ̸̉͜#̴͉̓1̶͇̔ ̸̟͑Ṋ̸͋e̷̮̎v̷̼̾e̸̪͌r̴̥̈́ ̵̳̽t̴̩͐r̶̻͊u̷̘͝ș̴͒t̶͙̂ ̶̝͑â̵̩n̴̙̿o̸̡͗t̸͚̒h̴̯̓ë̸͓́r̶͎̂ ̸̙̎O̸̺͌v̷̧͠è̴̼r̸̹̓l̵͊ͅo̸̜͒r̵̠̂d̸͓̽ . 

“Wh-what?”

“I want to make another deal - you promise to let me accompany you every time you leave these hotel walls and, in exchange, I will teach you how to grow your strength and power so this never happens again.” Well that is not the deal I was expecting.

Relief replaces anxiety. You lean in and give a cheeky smile, “You do realize both of those things can happen without a deal - unless you’re just looking for an excuse to kiss me again.”

“Bold of you to assume I need an excuse, “ he purred, closing the last bit of space between your bodies, lips hovering over yours, ‘but do we have a deal?”

You can barely breathe out “Deal.” before his lips gently press into yours. A glow fills the room but you don’t even notice this time, too lost in his touch to care. 

He reluctantly pulls away, “You should probably stay here tonight. I don’t think it’s wise for you to be alone in this condition.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I got it –“ hopping off the counter, you almost crumple to your knees. Alastor catches you with a smug chuckle. “I had a feeling you would fight me on that. It is completely up to you of course. However I will warn you I am willing to go to extreme lengths to convince you of the right choice.”

Once again, you’re lifted up and out of the bathroom. “Don’t threaten me with a good time -” You try to tease but lose your breath. A low laugh leaves his chest, “I believe we’ve had enough fun today my dear.” Every muscle in your body welcomes the soft bed as he lays you down on his silk sheets. 

Your eyes flutter heavily as you hear him move about the room, leaving briefly. Am I really going to stay here with him? Guess not too much of a choice now. I know he won’t hurt me, not tonight anyway. The door opens and you feel him climb into the bed with you. 

Turning to face him, you watch him lean back against the headboard, book in hand. “I thought you didn’t sleep.” you joke drowsily. 

“I don't need much but that just means I can keep you company while you rest.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to…but maybe you could tell me some stories about when you were alive? You can be my personal radio show for the night.”

A pleased hum leaves his chest, “As you wish, ma chère.” He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer. Time might as well have stopped as he begins telling you about his life, his mom, his home, the old radio show. You practically melt into his chest while drinking in every drop of his sweet voice. It was nice to peel back a few layers of who the Radio Demon was.

You wake up in a panic the next morning. Sitting up, your tired brain takes a moment to catch up with your surroundings and you relax remembering the previous night’s events. The mirror across the room catches your eye, showing purple and blue bruises painted across your skin. “Uhhg I look rough.” you whisper to yourself. 

“Still beautiful as ever, my dear.” a voice cut in, making your heart jump into your throat. You didn’t even notice his shadow or him fading into the room while you tried to collect yourself. “Good morning Alastor, and thank you but these marks are not very flattering.” 

He sits on the edge of the bed and lightly traces his hand around your face and throat. His smile almost falters. “I loathe seeing the marks he’s left on you…but I take pride in knowing he won’t ever lay a hand on you again.” a snide grin crosses his face. That’s probably why he took so long to get back to the hotel. I don’t even want to know what he did to Vox in that alley.

“Now! You stay here, I will go grab us some coffee!” Alastor jumps up to rush out the door but you stop him. “No, wait – I want to come with you.” He nods and leans against the doorway, waiting for you to put yourself together. You only bother to run a comb through your hair. No use in trying to cover up anything.

He wraps his arm around your waist while walking down to the lobby. Plopping yourself on the couch, you look up to see Husk staring over a newspaper, eyebrow cocked. A gruff “Hmpf” comes from behind the paper as Alastor walks by into the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, “Don’t even start Husk.” 

He slams the paper down on the bar, “I ain’t startin nothin! But it sure looks like he tried to finish –“ “He didn’t touch me. I wouldn’t even be sitting here if it wasn’t for him – “

Angel bursts through the hotel doors roaring with excitement, abruptly ending your conversation with Husk. “Oh good you guys are here – you will not BELIEVE what happened last night and holy shit what happened to you!?“

He looks mortified at the marks across your face. “Tripped. Please continue.” you say dryly.

Alastor finally returns with coffee, taking his seat right next to you as Angel finishes talking about his shift and how bad of a condition Val was in.

“It’s crazy someone was powerful enough…or ballsy enough…to do something like that to him. He’s pissed and from what I heard, Vox wasn’t looking too hot either.” You shoot a look over to Alastor who huffs smugly, looking away as he takes a sip of his coffee. I fucking knew it.

You turn your attention back to Angel, “If someone knocked him around that much, he’s bound to want to take it out on someone. Are - are things going to get worse for you?” Anxiety grips your chest at the realization you may have only aggravated Angel’s situation rather than helped.

“Eh it’ll be weeks before he even gets back to working the studio, besides no one is going to take him seriously with those words on his face. Whoever got ahold of him CARVED into his cheeks. Fuckin deep too. Heard it was a carmine knife, so Satan knows it’s gonna scar.” The enthusiasm in his voice helps ease your worries.

Husk finally chimes into the conversation, “hmm and uh – what exactly was written on his face?” his eyes look straight through Angel and settle on you. There’s no way he thinks –

“I don’t know some Latin shit I can’t pronounce. I overheard some older demons say it ‘labeled him as dirty’ or something like that.” Angel shrugs it off and continues joking about how great the next few weeks were going to be for him.

You finish your coffee and stand to get more, wincing at how sore you still feel.

“You could have asked me, dear. I was about to get up for more as well.” Alastor motions for you to sit back down while taking your cup. When he walks away, Angel comes over and sits on the floor next to you.

“Soooo…you gonna to tell me who actually gave you those bruises? Did you get freaky with Smiles? I just knew he was into that kinda –“

“He didn’t do this Angel.” Your words are soft but stern. He looks up with worry in his eyes. “Don’t take pity on me like that. I am FINE…” you peek up to see Husk’s back turned. Leaning over Angel’s ear, you drop your voice to a whisper, “and uh, between you and me – the word is spurcissime. Roughly translates to ‘complete filth’.” R̴̗͠ǔ̷̮l̸͍͘ẽ̴̘ ̴̩͑#̴̙͆2̸̥̎ ̴̲͌N̸̰̒e̵͔͝v̴̯̆ë̸͙́r̴̬̀ ̸̩̏t̶̳̍��̵̑l̴̥͝l̵̹̍ ̴͎͆ă̴̤ ̷͖̉s̴͕̕o̸̼͊ǔ̶̡l̶̝̿ ̷̺̓ẅ̵̟́ĥ̵̞a̶͖̿ṱ̵̏ ̸̢̕(̵͉̽ŏ̵̢r̵͚͛ ̷̘̈h̷̯̾ò̴̺w̵͉̑ ̸͔̀m̷̡̈́ủ̷̞c̶͂ͅh̷͇̋)̶̻̂ ̵͖̈p̵͍͒o̶̤̽ẉ̶́e̷̤̚ȑ̵̪ ̸̣̚ÿ̴̥ö̶́͜ù̸͎ ̸͇̑ĥ̸̤ä̷̙v̶͖͒e̶��͛

You sit back on the couch haughtily, taking pleasure in the absolutely dumbfounded look on his face.  

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp 

[writercole]

Storm Warning

Summary: Tyler returns to a town he hasn't seen in three years. He didn't expect much excitement. He could never have expected what he found. Words: 1838 Warnings: None, really. Tyler Owens, angst. A/N: This is still technically part of fall into fall but it's also not so. Either way, this is the result of two songs - Sorry Not Sorry by Demi Lovoto, and Storm Warning by Hunter Hayes. A/N 2: Fun fact, I live 10 minutes away from the town Hunter Hayes was born in. I saw him perform when he was a baby.

Three and a half years. Well, three years, seven months, and five days since I’d last had the misfortune of laying my eyes on the dusty boots and pristine stetson of Tyler Owens. I swore as I dipped my head behind the taps.

“Please don’t come in here. Please don’t come in here,” I whispered. Me seeing him was one thing; it was an entirely different ballgame if he saw me.

Because if he saw me…he’d come over. He’d smile that charming smile. He’d flirt. And my resolve would crumble. I’d fall down at his feet and beg for him to take me with him. And I’d get my heart broken again.

“Oh hell, who is that?” Caity, my coworker, asked as she looked out of the window from behind me.

“Tyler Owens,” I sighed, “calls himself The Tornado Wrangler. Dumb cowboy from Arkansas.” I tore myself away from the window and headed back to work, making sure that there were cases of cheap beer cooling for the aftermath.

“Jesus, that is one fine specimen. I’d like to call him ‘daddy’ a time or two,” she continued as she drooled over the man in the window.

I had to admit that he looked good. I’d snuck a couple of glances as I worked and had to force myself to keep the dreamy sigh to myself. “He has a name, you know.”

“Yeah, and I’d like to scream it all night long.”

Rolling my eyes, I headed to the stock room under the guise of needing another case of bourbon. Really, I just needed a moment to collect my head. And maybe say a prayer. I really, really needed him to just pass through.

I could hear the ruckus through the closed door of the stock room. People coming in, talking loudly. And Boone.

I heard Boone.

Which meant that Tyler wasn’t far behind.

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself as I leaned my hands on a stack of crates and hung my head. I had approximately three seconds before Caity called my name.

Two.

One.

“I need you out here!” Caity yelled down the hall.

“God damn it.” I lifted a crate with a sigh as I headed back to the front of the bar, avoiding the eyes I felt following my every move. I started popping the tops on beers for Tyler’s crew - Budweiser, Miller, Michelob. I still remembered their preferences after all this time. Gathering them onto a tray, I handed Caity the Budweiser. “This one is for ‘daddy’.”

“Ooh thank you! Wait - how do you -”

In the time it took her to catch on that I’d gotten their orders ready without looking, I had rounded the corner of the bar and started heading for the high top in the corner.

“Well, well, well,” I called as I approached, “look what the cat dragged in.”

Lily and Boone cheered and reached out for a hug when I handed their drinks over. Dani and Dexter were more reserved but still wore a bright smile.

“What about me?” Tyler drawled.

“Here you are,” Caity said in a sing-song voice, batting her eyelashes and pushing her tits up.

“Thanks, doll.” The wink he sent her had me rolling my eyes as I strode back to the bar.

“My name is Caity. I’ll be here all night,” I heard her purr as I walked away. It took everything I had not to gag.

Two rounds later, Tyler was leaning on the edge of my side of the bar as I served some new chasers, some Storm Par guys, just waiting. I dragged out my interaction with the two brunettes, making sure to flirt heavily with them, whether I was interested or not.

“Miss?”

Time to face the music.

I stepped over and smiled my fakest smile. “What can I get for you?”

“Are you really going to pretend like you don’t know me?”

“Wait,” I gasped dramatically, “Tyler Owens? Is that…you? Have you really not changed after all these years?”

“No, I suppose I haven’t,” he grinned.

“What a pity. People like you only improve when they change,” I spat as I flagged Caity over to wait on him, citing time for my shift to end.

Seemed to entertain Storm Par, though.

I practically ran out of the back entrance. I didn’t breathe until the door shut behind me. As I leaned against the wall and shut my eyes, trying to get my heart to stop running a marathon, my phone rang. I answered it without looking.

“When are you getting back?” my mother questioned.

“I just got off so soon, Mom, why?”

“Addie is screaming her head off and won’t calm down.”

I could hear my daughter in the background crying and I knew something had to have gone down. “What did you do, Mom?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Then put Addie on the phone.”

“I don’t know why you want to put her on the phone,” she huffed, “she has no idea what’s going on. She’s two.”

“She’s almost three, Mom. She knows more than you think. Now, put her on the phone.”

“Hewwo?”

“Hi, Addie, baby! What’s wrong?”

“I don’ wan Gran no more. I want Mommy!”

“Mommy will be home very soon, baby. I have to stop at the store and then walk home. I won’t be that long.”

“I need you now!” Her shrieks broke my heart and I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. I had to stop at the store before I went home. It was either that or I go without coffee tomorrow and that was not a good idea for anyone.

Plus, Addie needed milk for her cereal.

“I only need two things at the store. It won’t take me much longer than my walk home. What if I bring you a surprise?”

“A prize?”

“Yeah, baby girl, a prize. Can you hang on for a little bit for a prize?”

“Yeah,” she sniffled.

I sighed in relief and pushed off of the wall. “Okay, I’m going to go now. Can you watch some Mickey Mouse until I get home?”

“Mickey and the Christmas ghosts?”

“Mickey and the Christmas ghosts,” I confirmed with a soft smile. It may have been the middle of summer, but she loved the Mickey Christmas Carol movie. It was a bonus that it drove my mother nuts. “Mommy will be home soon, baby. I love you.”

“Wuv you.”

A little shuffling happened on the other end of the phone before my mother got back on the line.

“How much longer?”

“Are you ready to get away from your grandchild already?” I sneered with a roll of my eyes. Her and I didn’t see eye to eye on much and it only got worse when I got pregnant. “I’ll be home probably around the time her Mickey and the ghosts are finished.”

“Again?” she sighed.

“You know that’s her favorite. Just put it on and you can get back on your phone and scroll. I’ll be home soon,” I said, pressing the end call button aggressively.

“Grandchild?”

I jumped at the drawl from behind me, swearing loudly. I wasn’t sure if it was from the surprise of the voice or who the voice belonged to. Spinning around, I found Tyler standing behind me with a furrowed brow.

“Did I not make it clear enough inside?” I sighed. I was exhausted from my shift and already irritated from dealing with my mother and now I had to deal with the walking definition of self-importance.

“Oh, you were clear,” he shrugged before stepping closer. “But I needed to talk to you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need to talk to you.” I started to brush past him and he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. His grip was gentle but I stopped anyway, our shoulders side by side.

“I think you do need to talk to me about something.”

My shoulders drooped and my head hung low. Resignation surged through my veins. His stubborn ass really didn’t know when to let something go, for better or for worse. He wouldn’t let me drop this without an explanation and, not knowing how much he actually heard, I couldn’t lie my way out of it.

“I have to hurry so keep up.” I strode away, turning the corner towards my tiny apartment a block past the tiny convenience store.

Tyler kept up and fell into step beside me. It was quiet between us as we passed the parking lot filled with his fans calling his name. He shoved his hands in his pockets and I crossed my arms over my chest, just waiting.

“Why don’t you start? I think your topic is a little more important,” he pressed. It surprised me that he was calm and rational about this, almost as if he were soothing me.

“How much did you hear?”

“Addie, is it? Almost three?”

“Yeah, my daughter.”

“How close to three, exactly?”

“About two months more.” I knew enough about him to know he’d already drawn the right conclusion and was just looking for confirmation. I also knew that he was not above pissing me off to get the answers.

“There are two options in this scenario and both of them kind of suck for me,” he tried to joke. His laugh stuttered into a throat clear at my glare. “Okay, one option.”

“Yeah, Tyler. One option.”

“So…why didn’t you call me?”

I scoffed as I stopped in my tracks. “You’re kidding, right? You left me, Tyler. Not the other way around. I begged you to let me go with you. You said, and I quote, ‘I don’t need any distractions right now.’ And you want to know why I didn’t call you?”

“I…guess not,” he conceded as he hung his head and kicked a pebble with the toe of his boot. “For what it’s worth -”

“Tyler, your words aren’t worth a fucking thing to me. You shattered me. I’m not letting you do the same to my daughter, to the best thing in my shitty fucking life. So don’t even think about it.”

I stomped away, nearly passing the store before I turned in sharply. Grabbing the milk and pound of coffee, I waved at the owner behind the counter and asked her to put them on my tab, turning back quickly to grab a lollipop for Addie. As I exited the store, Tyler was still there, his head still low, his shoulders slumped forward. I made it ten steps before I groaned and turned back to him.

“I have to get home. Are you in town for a while?” I asked.

“I can be.”

“Is your number still the same?”

“No, but Boone’s is.”

“Well, mine is the same. So text me later. I really have to go.”

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded.

I turned to walk away and he called after me again.

“Exactly how shitty is your life?”

I didn’t even turn around, just laughed and called back, “you don’t want to know.”

[vermillioncrown]

This is going to be a huge post because you've picked up so much of what we put down I'm just 🥰🥹

@sunshinerotting replied to your post “(@rozaceous) dpnf ch 11: housebroken”:

will be rereading immediately but i love your guys’ characters very much and the way you write the canon characters makes so much sense. the way the people in that house interact with each other is so interesting to me because if tim was actually the normal boy he thinks he is the entire balance would be thrown off. no one else could’ve done what he does in that dynamic. they’re like a jigsaw puzzle to me. i have more thoughts give me a sec

thank you so much! roz and i keep joking that this fic is now an au of an au of an au of an au... and on and on, and then it's like. what makes this still a fic and not a fully original setting and work? we had to sell readers on a lot, that these characters (outside of our SIs) were still some flavor of canon. especially, "who is the core of tim drake?" and yeah, he's so not fucking normal. but he's not obviously wacky, either.

​out of order now i don’t remember chapter numbers: when jason showed up like a huge asshole i texted my friend about it. very much “he WOULD fucking do that but by god is it PISSING ME OFF” and it was!! love that genuinely. might not be what was intended but i do think he IS odd and sad and unable to move through the cycle of grief fully enough to show back up like a haunting and not expect it to get to allie like that. zero ability to understand how loved he is. 10/10 more...

GAH to know you texted abt our fic!!!! 🥹🥹🥹 best praise tbh. and the second sell: how is jason an asshole but worth rooting for later? or at least, allowed into the enclosure lol. we might not have had it summarized as neatly as you did, but roz and i are in full agreement you Read jason here. that's exactly what we wanted, that's so much of what we take from his character in various canons.

allie reminds me of a bobcat which feels weird to say but she’s so nonthreatening outwardly and she minds her business but the second someone steps in on her people it’s like Oh. oh right. teeth and claws. when jason showed back up i felt so much for her. there was no way for her to move. korvin acts in ways similar to me, which i will examine on my own time and not in your comments. i do love how everyone in this house has their own preferred flavor of Avoidance

you also have such a read on allie, i love it. i'll leave her to roz but i'll say my piece that i sometimes get bummed that korvin's so obviously wacky + a lot of gender stuff at play (the audience/demographic of ff readers, we live in a society and all that) that make more ppl focus on korvin over allie whereas they're both equally wack. and korvin's behavior makes the most sense when taken as a convoluted male re-socialization of someone initially female-socialized but rewarded in a male-dominated space. AND both of them are AuDHD, word of god putting that out there. add on the isekai brainworms, and yeah, isekai is just an extended analogy for masking → hence the different flavors of avoidance

tim is somehow the most well-adjusted in this regard, before jason shows up maybe, and thats so crazy. tim drake. Tim Drake ????comparatively well-adjusted to anyone ??? i know i’m forgetting something so i’ll come back but writing that down genuinely through me off a little bit. lol

you also recognize that jason ranks above tim in "well-adjusted" here, god, how does it feel to be so correct. and tim is well-adjusted here! he's never had to be a vigilante! but he's also much lonelier than in canon. something that made retrospective sense while we were writing is that he fell out of liking ball sports (despite not being a desk nerd) is that...who does he have to enjoy them with in this au?

threw not through. anyway I FORGOT ABOUT RUTABAGA. I AM SO SORRY RUTABAGA. the amount of love between the characters is so important to me bc it’s always there no matter how fucked the bats are about showing it normally. the brownstone does end up feeling like a safe space like it somehow feels so easy most of the time and then when tangential forces (sorry dick) show up it’s like the air changes. but allie and korvin and tim all have such Personalities its insane it works out like that.

RUTIE BEST GIRL, forgiven lol. YES YES YES there is so much love and it's like, the love doesn't stop you from doing the work. the bats are so fucked up, and we only get a glimpse of dick and korvin's relationship where you can see the maladapted consequences on both of their parts, dick not being fully equipped to "raise" korvin and korvin wanting to be easy/convenient for dick. and korvin's deep-seated not-abandonment issues tied with family and cultural trauma/burden.

(i still stand by the "good older brother dick grayson" tag, he's just. oh there's a lot. if you read between the lines there's so much being implied for TPAC)

but having allie in this 'verse, allie and korvin together ground each other. that's why they're so co-dependent in the beginning (it's healthier at the end), that's why they still had the wherewithal to seek an outside friend, and yes, that is why the brownstone is like that. their place that they made with their own hands.

obviously jason was an issue initially (it felt redundant to write that sentence) but he’s such a necessary part of them by being 1) necessary to allie and 2) the catalyst allie and korvin needed to end up where they are. i do think ppl that important to each other need one big unavoidable conflict to avoid stagnation like obviously he was a necessary part of the story but he was a Necessary Part Of The Story. does this make sense?? four strand braid.

AND YES DUDE you literally. we were writing this and we had the vibe, but we literally did not articulate it to each other until the very end that jason's actually necessary to make all of them normal. i love everything you're saying about needing one unavoidable conflict to resolve. he is part of a four strand braid. it's so strong. it's critical. korvin still finds jason annoying and vice versa. and yet they'd both say the household contains all of them by the end.

i just like that they start off alone and end up together. that’s my thing. jigsaw puzzle. polycule of all time. i can’t think of a way in which another person would ever get that close to them the dynamics are so perfect to me. every need is accounted for. its like a perfect little box in my mind. i think thats it for now lol i’m happy you guys write together. not just bc i love it but also bc it’s so clear u guys have fun doing it and that makes me happy <3

WE MADE IT. it's one thing to prescribe "hey guys this is a polycule" but selling it? the logistics of a polycule? not so easy, and it has to be tailored to the situation and characters. not all of them are romantically/sexually involved, nor do they have straight-forward relationships (hence, qpr), so having you say it fits and they seem seamless is like. top tier praise. coherence, it's everything we've aimed for.

thank you for all of your thoughts! we do have tons of fun and that's why we love sharing what we have! and we hope to keep doing projects like this, or we'll just be at each other's side while we work on our individual fics.

[supernova-stardust]

A Tender Thing

an ongoing jegulus long fix if fic set during the first wizarding war, non canon compliant, with prominent wolfstar. also featuring background rosekiller, pandalily, dorlene, and emmary. updates 2-4x monthly. 18+!! explicit content.

chapters 1-10 on ao3 total word count: 44,954

chapter 2 after the break, word count: 4,435

Dorcas makes her way back through the garden, avoiding the couples making out amongst the shrubbery. She’d really rather not have to explain to Walburga that she caught Rabastan making out with Crabbe, so avoiding the interaction altogether is ideal, to say the least.

She enters the parlor, scanning the room as subtly as possible. Hopefully no one even noticed that she slipped away as soon as she noticed Sirius. Honestly, what were they even thinking coming here? Grimmauld Place is probably one of the most dangerous places for Sirius to be, let alone during a party where every witch and wizard who has pledged themselves to the Dark Lord has gathered for the evening. Noticing that Evan and Barty are still near the furthest wall, she makes her way through the crowd to them.

“Hey,” Evan beams at her. “Isn’t this party just the best? I mean, the groom-to-be is simply eating up all this attention.” He gives her a pointed look, clearly expecting her to know where Regulus has disappeared to. They all know that Regulus would rather drown than be the center of attention at a party like this, but usually he’d at least uphold his polite duties and greet their guests. Dorcas glances around and notices that Narcissa is beaming, Walburga at her side.

“I have no idea where he went, but I’m sure he’ll show up soon. We did drink a little before this, he probably just needed a moment to regroup. You know how he gets.”

“This is all such bullshit anyway,” Barty laments. “It’s no wonder he snuck away the moment he could. I’m looking for the next opportunity myself. This shit is so fucking boring.”

“Listen,” Evan sounds exhausted as he soothes Barty, rubbing his hand up his arm and clasping his bicep. “You’re the one who wanted to join the Death Eaters, you brought this upon yourself.” Evan’s voice drops down to a whisper, “I tried to convince you not to take the Mark.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t think it would include shit like this. I thought it would be more fighting for our lives, action adventure vibes, not hoity-toity parties and playing dress up.” Barty clearly looks put off. To anyone outside of their friend group, they’d be appalled by Barty’s attitude, but they both know that this is just a cover for his real feelings. He’s been regretting signing his life away for a while now, even if he did it because he loves Evan dearly. The only person who ever understood Barty fully was Evan; where he goes, Barty goes. To the ends of the earth or with a mark on his arm.

“Look,” Dorcas snaps in their faces to regain their attention. “I don’t know where Regulus went, but if anyone comes looking for him we need to distract them. Put on your best smiles, be polite, and avoid any firm answers. I’m going to go look for him, if any of us can find him it’ll be me.”

She waits for them both to nod and acknowledge the plan, watching as they head into the crowd. She has to find Regulus before Walburga notices he’s gone.

***

“What the fuck are you doing?” Regulus spits at him, dilated eyes frantically scanning his face. James glances down at their joined hands and feels his cheeks heat. He can’t believe he grabbed Regulus’ hand and he’s not dead yet. Suddenly he has some semblance of self preservation and drops Regulus’ hand, looking around the space they’ve claimed as their own.

“I honestly have no idea,” James says. Reaching up, he removes the mask covering his face as he turns around to really look at Regulus. It’s like he’s never really looked at him before. To be fair, it has been nearly ten years since they’ve been near one another, but Godric. Regulus has grown to be one of the most beautiful people he’s ever laid eyes on. All sharp edges and elegance. James would do anything to get close to him, even if it means he bleeds.

James always knew that gender didn’t particularly matter for him in terms of attraction, he simply appreciates beauty and all things beautiful. The world that he was raised in hates people for being queer, but really, when the world he knew has become loyal to a dark wizard hellbent on killing anyone who isn’t a pureblood, are those the standards we should be going by? James thinks not. But he’s never really felt anything towards a man before this very moment. He’s never really felt much for anyone, if he’s honest. Sure, there was Lily back when they were teens, but that ship has sailed. He tried to kiss her once and she looked at him and laughed, clasped her palm on his cheek, and told him that he was cute but she only liked girls.

That’s not to say he hasn’t had his handful of trysts. Whenever they go out for drinks in muggle London, James always ends up hooking up with someone, never remembering their name or really anything other than the fact that they were pretty.

Regulus isn’t just pretty though, he’s devastatingly beautiful. This feels different from simple attraction; that he knows he could handle. Sirius is going to kill him for this, but the more he thinks about it the less he cares. Maybe James could convince Regulus to come back with him, maybe then Sirius wouldn’t be so mad at him.

“I know I shouldn’t have come here in the first place, but Sirius–” James starts.

“You should have told Sirius he doesn’t belong here, James!” Regulus hisses, pacing around the space and gradually looking more like a caged animal.

“Why doesn’t he? You’re his brother, Regulus! I know he won’t admit it, but he misses you,” James says. Sirius never talks about his brother, it became a banned conversation after that first night he moved in with the Potters, but James knows Sirius as well as the palm of his own hand. Sirius would do anything to have Regulus back in his life.

“He’s not mine anymore, James,” Regulus bites back. “He decided not to be my brother, not the other way around. This conversation is over, you need to leave.” Stopping his pacing in front of James, he lifts both arms to shove at his chest. James clasps his hands over his wrists, pulling Regulus close and making him stumble into his body. Their chests collide and James hears a sharp intake of breath. They’ve never been this close before and James thinks that they should never be further apart again.

“James,” Regulus whispers so softly he can barely hear it. “What are you doing?” He’s not pulling away or fighting this, he’s not telling him no.

“I’m going to kiss you,” James whispers just as sweetly, waiting for him to say no. Regulus looks up at him with wide eyes, a soft blush dusting his cheeks, his lips slightly parted. He doesn’t say no.

James dips his face down, catching Regulus’ lips in his. The first kiss is soft, tender and timid. He stays as still as he can, nervous to scare Regulus away, keeping his hands to himself. Then Regulus opens his mouth for him and at the first sweep of his tongue, James is ravenous. They kiss like they’ve been starved for each other their entire lives. He thinks that this is what he was made for, kissing and holding Regulus Black is his life’s calling.

James releases his wrists and buries a hand into Regulus’ dark curls, wrapping his other arm around his back and pulling him as close as possible. Their kisses grow more and more hungry and needy, Regulus’ hands wrap around him and grab at his clothes, roving over his body. James never wants this to end.

And then it does, just as suddenly as it began. Regulus is pushing away at him and brushing his hands through those beautiful curls that James just had his fingers in, erasing any evidence that he was there. His lips are rosy from their kisses and they’re both breathing heavily. “You need to leave.”

Oh.

Oh.

Regulus was never going to allow this to happen, was he?

“Just tell me why,” James’ voice cracks in despair. He can feel his eyes brimming with tears, but he refuses to cry right now. Not until he knows for sure that Regulus never wants to see him again.

“Why what?” Regulus sounds so small and James can see that he’s mentally shutting himself down, refusing to allow himself to feel anything. It’s that fact alone that gives him hope. He knows that Regulus felt just as much as he did in those kisses, even if he won’t admit it right now.

“Why did you let me kiss you,” he pushes.

“Because I had always wanted to know what it felt like,” Regulus murmurs as he begins slowly backing away.

James stops himself from following. “What do you mean,” he asks gently, not wanting to scare him off until he gets his answer.

“I always wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed by the sun.”

He slips away through the branches of the willow tree into the night leaving James to contemplate how he really might have just fallen in love with Regulus Black.

***

Regulus is walking as fast as he can through the gardens, refusing to allow himself to look back at that willow tree where his entire life changed. He can’t believe he actually kissed James Potter.

Fuck.

This changes everything and nothing.

He can’t allow himself to think about the implications of James kissing him, if he does he’ll fall apart at this damn party. Just a couple more hours, then he can dissolve into a puddle of tears in the privacy of his bedroom. He nestles himself on the ground between some shrubs and does his breathing exercises, counting in and out for five. For a moment it works and then he’s thinking about Sirius and James and how much danger they’ll all be in if this goes to shit.

No, Regulus has to keep himself composed so that no one suspects a single thing. He’s already screwed up enough for one lifetime, there’s no room for any more mistakes.

It’s hard to know where his first mistake happened, all he knows is that it was a series of terrible events happening one after the other while he was powerless to stop any of it. Sirius left and he didn’t follow, couldn’t because of the spell Walburga had on him. But even if his body wasn’t spelled to kill his own brother, would he have left with him? He honestly can’t answer that question and that scares him the most. Nothing good happened after that night. He took the Dark Mark, binding his life to the Dark Lord’s, and vowed to himself that he would do everything he could to defeat him. By being close to him and all of his servants, he believed that would be enough to learn his secrets and destroy him. Naivety, at best.

Voldemort doesn’t share anything with anyone. Lies and half truths and orders with no context is the most information Regulus has ascertained in all these years. Besides the Horcrux.

The fucking Horcrux.

If the Horcrux didn’t exist then Regulus can guarantee he wouldn’t still be stuck here right now, miserable, marrying his cousin, and wishing that he could be marrying James Potter instead. Wait, he might be crazy. Slow down, all he did was kiss you, that doesn’t mean he wants to fucking marry you.

But they can’t get married because the Horcrux exists and Regulus can’t figure out how to destroy it undetected. Regulus can’t figure out if there’s more of them either, and if Voldemort can sense that one of them has been destroyed, figuring out if there are any more is going to be even more difficult than it has been the last few years. He has a gut feeling that if there’s one, there’s others. One doesn’t become that disfigured and revolting without fracturing your soul into many pieces.

Regulus is fucked.

At least when James existed as a concept in his diaries instead of as someone who seems to actually want him back it was a lot easier for Regulus to pretend that he didn’t exist and he could continue wasting his life away, waiting for the day he would finally figure out how to defeat Voldemort. Now he has to return to this farce of a party and pretend to be overjoyed about marrying his cousin.

He can’t stand the idea of leaving James alone under that willow tree either, but he knows that if he hadn’t been the stronger person and left, they would have been caught. At least now James has a moment to compose himself and sneak out undetected.

Regulus breathes, counting in and out for five a few more times in an effort to build up his emotional walls before he can carry on the charade.

“There you are!”

Regulus nearly jumps from his skin at the sound of Dorcas’ voice, not expecting anyone to find him crouched between some shrubs practically hyperventilating. So much for breathing exercises, he supposes.

“Here I am,” he sighs. He knows he looks a mess and he’ll trust Dorcas to tell him so. She does, crouching down to his level and fussing with his hair, running her cool fingers over his cheeks to try and calm the flush there.

“You’ll tell me what happened,” she starts. He barely opens his mouth to object before she continues. “After you make your appearances. It’s been too long, people are getting suspicious. Narcissa has been a dream, as I’m sure you’ve been relying on.” Dorcas stands on her feet and stretches her hand out for him to grab as he rises. She helps him brush the dirt and dead leaves off his robes and they head back into the parlor together.

The rest of the party is a blur of polite niceties that Regulus truly doesn’t care to remember. After a few more hours, he says his goodbyes and retreats to his bedroom, giving Dorcas a glance as he goes that she only understands from years of breaking rules together.

***

Dorcas swipes a bottle of whiskey from the bar as she makes her way up to Regulus’ room. When she went looking for him earlier, she didn’t expect to find him quite so sad. She knows something happened beyond the marriage finally setting in and so they’ll need alcohol.

Weaving down the hallways that she’s always found quite creepy, she arrives at his door, lightly knocks with one knuckle, and lets herself in. Regulus is pacing. Honestly, she’s surprised there isn’t a path in the hardwood floor from how often he’s paced in the last few years, but he seems even more stressed than usual in the speed he’s pacing.

“What happ–”

“He kissed me,” Regulus interrupts before she can finish her question. Well, that’s not the answer she was expecting. “Who?”

“James fucking Potter, Dorcas. Him and Sirius and their stupid friends came here tonight,” he pauses, looking at her with fear and agony and something she can’t quite place. Dorcas knows right now that she has to let him work through his emotions before he’ll continue, so she waits patiently as he collects himself. He looks so small as he worries at his lip and breathes for a few moments before continuing.

And he tells her all about how James was alone by the time he went outside to tell them all to leave. How James grabbed his hand and kissed him under the willow tree. And how Regulus pushed him away, telling him to leave. “I’ve had a crush on him since I first met him, Dorcas.”

This breaks Dorcas from her self imposed ‘listen but do not react’ rule. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? I told you all about every cringey crush I had growing up! You even knew about Mulciber, Reg.”

“Is this really what you want to focus on right now? Mulciber?”

“Oh fuck off, you know that’s not what it’s about,” Dorcas groans. “I just didn’t think we still kept things from each other, y’know? I don’t keep anything from you.”

“Dorcas, there’s so many things that I can’t tell you,” he murmurs, avoiding her eyes. She unscrews the cap to the bottle of whiskey and takes a long drink. When she’s done she holds the bottle out to him as an offering.

“You can tell me, you know. I’m not as fragile as you pretend I am,” she gives him a knowing smirk. Regulus has always protected her and she knows it, even if he’ll never admit it. That’s just his way, suffer in silence and protect the people he loves at all costs, even at a detriment to himself.

“Dorcas,” Regulus takes a deep breath and a long sip. He casts a silencing charm around them before he says his next words. “What do you know about Horcruxes?”

“Reg, don’t tell me you’re considering making one. I know that–”

“Not me, fuck, never me. The Black’s practice dark magic, but I’d never dream of that.”

“Okay, so who?” Regulus just stares at her. He takes another drink, much longer than the one before, passes the bottle back to her and crosses his room. He crouches on the floor and she can hear him fussing with a loose floorboard. When he rises again, he’s carrying a necklace in his hands, the pendant shining softly in the dim light of his room.

As he approaches, she can feel the dark magic radiating off the necklace and sips more whiskey to give her some courage. “Reg, please tell me that’s not a very dark and very powerful wizard who has our lives in the palm of his hands’ Horcrux that you’re holding right now and hiding under a floorboard.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Regulus says dryly. “Or, you could tell me what you do know about Horcruxes and I can tell you what I know and you can help me.”

Dorcas honestly doesn’t know if Regulus has ever willingly allowed her to play a part in his plans and maybe this is just because they’ve finally reached an age where their brains have finally fully developed, but she’s relieved by the change in his attitude. She knows this is a precious and gentle gift that he’s given her and she refuses to squander it.

“Not much, just the whole division of the soul bit.”

“Do you know how to destroy them,” he asks with trepidation.

“No, they didn’t exactly cover dark magic in Hogwarts.”

“Neither do I,” he says as he slowly lets the necklace drop from one hand to another, the chain making a soft metallic noise. “I’ve had this since seventh year.”

“I’m sorry– What?”

“Dorcas, I’ve been so afraid,” he whispers. “I just wanted to keep everyone safe, and I have, but everyone is going to die if we don’t figure this out and I don’t think I can do it alone anymore.” He crosses the room to put the locket away and sits on the edge of his bed, holding his hand out in a silent request for more alcohol. She sits next to him as she hands him the bottle. They remain this way for a few more minutes, silently passing the bottle back and forth.

“Okay, so he hasn’t figured out that the Horcrux has been missing this entire time? Where did you even find this?”

“That’s the thing, you remember how I was as a teenager,” he laughs. “I had to make sure that if he found out it was gone, that he knew it was me. I wanted the credit, you know. I just didn’t have the foresight to imagine not being able to destroy it.”

“Reg,” she breathes. “What did you do?”

“I left a note inside a replica, even signed off R.A.B. for good measure.”

“What the fuck?”

“I know,” he sighs as he flops backwards onto the bed. His hair fans out around him and he looks absolutely exhausted. Now she understands, if this is what’s been looming over him all these years.

“Okay, so we figure out how to destroy the Horcruxes. No big deal,” she says as she flops back to join him in staring at the ceiling. “I’ll scour the Meadowes family library tomorrow, there’s got to be something in there that you just haven’t had access to.”

“You can’t tell anyone.” He turns his head to look at her. “Not even Evan or Barty. I shouldn’t have told you, this puts you in so much danger. If Voldemort even suspects that you know anything, he’ll rip his way right into your mind and steal every thought you’ve ever had about him. You’ll have to practice your Occlumency and in the meantime, pass any books that you think may have information directly to me without reading them. I can filter the information myself.”

“We’ll get through this Reg.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Dorcas stays late into the night, the two of them deciding to switch to lighter topics such as how beautiful James looked tonight, rather than focusing on things they can’t change right now. She heads home long after Grimmauld Place has emptied of other guests. She doesn’t ever feel up to telling Regulus that she spoke to his brother today. She promises to herself that she will another day, but she has a feeling that knowing how close he came to interacting with Sirius might hurt him too deeply to cope tonight. When Dorcas’ head finally hits her pillow, she finds her mind wandering to a beautiful woman with golden hair and wild eyes.

***

Remus guides Sirius through the door to their flat, wrapping his arm around his waist. Sirius hasn’t said a word the entire time they walked home. Walked, because Sirius clearly needed the time to process what had happened and they both needed the fresh cold air to sober themselves up. Between the two of them, they smoked a whole pack of cigarettes, and Remus is honestly wishing he had stopped by the shop to grab more before they made their way here.

They make their way inside and finally, Sirius breaks the silence with a gut wrenching sob. Remus folds Sirius into his body, wrapping his arms around him and rubbing his back. His shirt soaks up Sirius’ tears and he hums a soothing melody. They remain like this for a minute or an eternity, Remus isn’t sure, until Sirius finally looks up. Remus wipes away the tears staining his face with his thumbs and gently brushes his hair from his face.

“Love,” Remus says, breaking the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sirius shakes his head, closing his eyes. “No. Yes? Oh, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay not to know how you feel.”

“I just don’t know why he wouldn’t come with me that day. I thought I had gotten past that, but being there, in that place, seeing him? It put me right back to the day I left, Moony. All I could think about was his face when I asked him to leave and he said no. He looked horrified, I’m pretty sure he was scared, but I don’t know why he’d choose them and not me. We always chose each other, why couldn’t he have picked me when it really mattered?”

“I don’t know, Pads. It’s not fair for either of you. I can’t imagine the hurt you’ve been carrying all these years.”

Sirius’ body wracks with sobs again, curling back into Remus. They stay this way for a long time before Remus finally guides him to their bedroom. Remus sits Sirius down on the edge of the bed and helps him strip down to his boxers, throwing the discarded clothes on the floor to be dealt with later. Sirius continues to cry softly as Remus gently tucks him into bed and then chucks his own clothes off onto the floor in the same manner. He pulls the blankets back to wrap his body around Sirius’ and settles into bed.

“Moony?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Pads. I’ll always choose you.”

***

James’ mind's going a mile a minute by the time he makes his way back into his bedroom at Potter Manor. He kissed Regulus Black. Like, for real. He didn’t just hallucinate it. And Godric, it was the best kiss of his life. He jumps onto his bed, bouncing on his back and kicks his feet in the air for a few moments. He’s so giddy, he feels like he could fly.

He doesn’t know what to do next though. Regulus pushed him away, which should discourage him. I mean, Regulus is literally a part of one of the most loyal families to Voldemort, that alone should be enough to tell him this is all a terrible, awful idea. But what if he could convince him to leave? Sirius couldn’t when they were teens, but has enough time passed that Regulus could be open to reconsidering his position in the war? Can he even reconsider his position now that he’s taken the Dark Mark? James isn’t sure, but he’s willing to try anything to convince Regulus to leave.

Then he has a pathetic thought. What if Regulus just wanted to kiss him to see what it was like? What if he didn’t like kissing James? No, those kisses were electric. There’s no way he didn’t enjoy himself as much as James did. Is there? What makes James think that just a few kisses in the dark will convince Regulus to leave everything he knows and join him in the fight against Voldemort anyway? He’s getting carried away. He has to see him again.

Now that he knows how to enter the gardens through the back, he needs to go and see Regulus again this week. They just need to have a proper talk about their feelings and then he’ll know where they stand. Yeah, they’re both adults, they can do that. He doesn’t know what room is Regulus’, but hopefully it’ll be easy enough to figure out from outside.

Okay, he has a game plan. Sneak back to Grimmauld Place, knock on Regulus’ window, and tell him he’s wild about him and please, please, please run away with me. What could go wrong?

[amber-laughs]

I’d love to know ur opinion on Jon’s ships (Jon&Ygritte, Jon&Satin, Jon&Sansa, Jon&Daenerys, Jon&val and so on). I personally like Jonerys but I also find a lot of Jon ships a bit ridiculous lmao

i like Jon and Dany in a very abstract way but it’s hard for me to really get behind them because they haven’t interacted yet if that makes sense. they’re obviously gonna have the largest part to play together in coming books where i think they’ll end up being one of my favorite ships of the series tho

Jon/Satin 10/10 i personally prefer to think of it as Jon being so fucking lonely in his command that he can’t help but take advantage of satin’s position. like when Jon said in adwd he craves company not food hmm i’m lonely and horny and here’s this handsome guy devoted enough to change religions for me and (in amber-laugh’s eyes) is attracted to me so yeah let’s give this a go and then feelings of affection develop from there but it starts out as just a means to an end

Jon/Val my personal favorite of canon possible endings i agree with people who say this is more idealized in Jon’s eyes than it should be but i think that’s part of the fun. she represents something to him that he’ll not only never have but may not even want when it comes down to it. i think that fantasy is part of the fun. if she survives and he does end up going beyond the wall in the end than they’re ending up together in my eyes. she brings out a boyish side of him we haven’t seen in a long time and it comes from a different place than what Ygritte brought out in him that seems to sit easier on his soul. also i could’ve sworn the first time i looked them up on tumblr someone was calling them JonValJon as a Les Mis reference but ive never seen it since so can we start that?

Jon/Ygritte loved it for the storyline it brought and the character development we got to see through it. i’m glad she died so they couldn’t end up together because like i said even tho he loved her she obviously never sat right with his spirit and on a personal level her “fuck me or die” stance never sat right with my spirit either. and she kicked ghost out “find somewhere else for ghost to sleep tonight” NOT ON MY WATCH! ghost’s evil stepmother ik he smiled when she got shot. on a serious note tho he seems to love her far more after she died than he ever did when she was alive and i wonder if that’s something we’ll get in to if he falls in love again in the series

i like Jon/Sansa in a non canon fictional sense. some of the AUs are cute and fun. i don’t see any plot where they actually end up together but i do think there’s a lot of familial angst and self esteem issues that could be worked in to their fanon that’s a lot of fun and their fans have some really talented authors that do it well

and you didn’t ask for this but Jon/Alys Karstark is one of my favorites and i really hope we see her again when he travels back to winterfell. Alys resents the Starks for getting her family killed while Jon resents the Karstarks for leaving Robb to die surrounded by enemies but they’ve found childhood comfort together at the edge of the world. she trusts him in a way she clearly couldn’t trust anyone else in westeros and i think she’ll easily follow him when it’s time for him to lead. and them flirting at her wedding to another man? i mean COME ON!

[kibblbread]

TRANSFORMERS ONE FANFIC IDEA INCOMING!

Yeah it’s optimus x megatron, sorry not sorry i want to explore their relationship as lovers instead of friends/brothers because I’m a hopeless romantic although i may or may not do that eventually too???

Anyway this fic is being dubbed the Transformers one alternate timeline fic! You can look at the basic premise by clicking the embed link 🔗

You can call it whatever you want the nickname is mostly for me lol

Anyway here is more headcanons and basic outlining for my writing if anyone is interested. I know what its like to be in a small fandom with hardly any fic content for your personal otp 🙃 cries in redhood fandom

So lowkey I want there to be roles within the relationship, I just don’t want to type cast or define either Megatron or Optimus by assigning Top & Bottom. Like people they’re complex and often switch in accordance to what the other needs.

I noticed D16 throughout the movie was a bit more easily stressed and anxious while Orion usually tried to stay more level and optimistic. Pax truly is a good leader. However D16 definitely is also very capable of taking charge, especially when he starts getting fed up with a specific circumstance cough, cough. D16 is very emotional though, and allows that to fuel his motivation and in turn his actions as well.

In my fic I plan to make alt Megatron emotional too! He’s protective and a bit impatient but he’s happy with routine and the mundane of everyday. Also still a nerd and is actually very kind/gentle to not only Optimus but the citizens! Well, outside of the gladiator ring at least.. Megatron never truly gets used to younger bots idolizing him like he does a past Prime. Yes he does become a gladiator, kinda like in the tfp continuity but in this timeline he is still leader of the high-guard as it operates under Optimus Prime’s will. Think basically Cybertron’s army for lack of better terms!

Optimus does his best to be hands on as possible but thats kinda difficult as he is essentially Cybertrons assigned leader and protector. Most operations under his own orders go without the bot ever truly getting to be involved. However, he still takes just about any scrap of time he can to spend with Megatron. It’s pretty obvious to anyone that sees them interact that they’re whipped for one another lol.

Some kinda pivotal moments (spoilers ig??? They’re not too bad though i hope) 🤞🏾

A proposal from Optimus to alt Megatron. It’s pretty early in the fic, and will probably be after I’ve set the stage and done some world building.

Alt Megatron taking on an aircraft form for his transformation! It was just easier for him while leading High-Guard operations but his size, lol, the difference between them is so cute. I’m gonna have so much fun writing

Sentinel being marched through the mines like Megatron originally set out to do. Optimus wasn’t exactly happy about it but never questioned or interfered despite Sentinel’s pleading

Both Megatron’s being partial to holding grudges and indulging in rage. Although alt Megatron has trouble controlling other emotions as well, his mood is contagious for better and worse tbh. Both versions of their auras are captivating and fill any room no matter how big.

Canon Megatron trying to kill alt Optimus on sight because that boy ready to square up 🤭

Shockwave figuring out the switch situation and switching things back without even consulting anyone, spoiler alert — he fucks up

Megatron being disgustingly cute with either Optimus in either timeline because he’s dangerously persuasive and sincere

Yeah that’s really all i got for now. It’s very otp centric but obviously Ill flesh out the others to an extent later.. or not idk if I’ll complete this project or not. But it’s maybe gonna be around 10-15 chapters???

Wish me luck and we’ll see how it goes 😝

[aliyahwritings]

I honestly don’t even know where to begin with this mess of a story. First of all, the characters are so one-dimensional and predictable, I felt like I was reading the same tired cliché romance over and over again. YN? Seriously? She’s just another ‘perfect model’ with a mysterious past and a bunch of insecurities. I mean, how original. We’ve seen this character a thousand times before, and nothing about her stands out. Her whole ‘I don’t want to be a burden’ routine is just annoying at this point. It’s like you tried to make her relatable, but instead, she comes off as weak and one-note. Rafe? Ugh, don’t even get me started. The cocky, arrogant jock thing is so overdone, and it’s honestly cringeworthy. He’s supposed to be this ‘bad boy’ with a heart of gold, but all I see is an entitled, possessive jerk who thinks he can do whatever he wants because he’s rich and good-looking. His interactions with YN feel forced and shallow, like they were written to make readers swoon but just end up being uncomfortable. And the whole ‘marriage of convenience’ plot? Yawn. Boring. Tomato tomato.

I mean, really? This trope is so outdated and tired, and it’s not even done well here. The ‘fake relationship’ angle is dragged out for way too long, with no real emotional depth or tension. Everything just feels so contrived and predictable, like you know exactly what’s going to happen next. The pacing is awful too. One minute, they’re having a serious conversation, and the next, they’re making out for no real reason.

Also, the whole focus on looks and materialism is nauseating. I mean, seriously, who cares that YN wears fancy clothes or that Rafe drives expensive cars? It’s honestly laughable how much emphasis is put on the superficial stuff. There’s no substance to these characters or their relationship. And don’t even get me started on the dialogue. Half the time, it’s so cringey and forced, it makes me want to close the book and never look at it again. The banter between YN and Rafe is supposed to be playful, but instead, it just feels awkward and rehearsed. Oh, and can we talk about how unrealistic everything is? YN’s life as a model is just so idealized and perfect, and Rafe’s life as a basketball star is so over the top that it’s hard to believe any of it.

I’m sorry, but the whole thing just feels like a cheap fantasy for people who want to escape into some fairy tale world where everything works out in the end, no matter how messed up the characters are. The pacing is all over the place, the plot is predictable, and the characters are so shallow I could barely care about any of them. It’s honestly frustrating to read a story that has so much potential but fails on every level. Do better.

Alright let's get into this 🫤

First off, thank you for reading my work and sharing your... thoughts? I don't even remember asking for criticism but I'll take it.

YN and Rafe may come off as cliché to you, and others, but that's something that I love. I don't even know why people associate cliché with bad, when they're the best. If the stuff is well done, cliché can be perfect.

You complaining about the "marriage of convenience" trope is insane work like this is the "main" trope of my series. They have an arrangement to fake being in a relationship. If you didn't like that, why'd you even read? And it's "dragged out" for a reason?? The fuck?? Would you like an insta-love type thing? 'Cause I wouldn't. My series is a slow-burn. YN and Rafe are slowly falling in love, and learning about each other. Mind you, saying it's "dragged out" when there's only 10 chapters out is (again) insane work. I'm not here to write some cookie-cutter love story with zero tension or drama. I wanted things to feel messy and real, because that's what relationships are like in real life. If you expected a polished, perfect romance, this probably isn't for you. And yeah, I get that materialism is an issue, but these characters live in a world where appearances matter, and that's not something I'm glossing over.

If you think the pacing's horrible then okay. Thank you for the feedback. I'll keep that in mind for future chapters and works.

If it doesn't work for you, that's fine. Not everyone's going to connect with it. But don't assume it's all bad just because it didn't hit the mark for you.

And next time you wanna give criticism, watch your tone. The way you talk is horrible and so condescending 💜

[monochromeruby]

THINGS I WANT TO SEE IN DISVENTURE CAMP: CARNIVAL OF CHAOS

This is stuff I can only pray for and hope… PLEASE… I love the cast and I only wish them the best…

1. I NEED Emily to take on a role like Chef where she clocks all the contestants. THAT WAS SO FUNNY and she’s supposed to be like the gossip girl/instigator. That wasn’t rlly explored in DCAS, so it would be a good way to incorporate her<3

2. There NEEDS to be more advantages. The idol is so overused and in DCAS it only appeared as a plot device. If the game wants to be interesting, there should be more aspects in the game. If not, then at least have the idol appear at the start and not randomly at the final 7 😭😭

3. MORE RELATIONSHIP DYNAMICS.

I’m so sick of every dynamic being enemies, friends, crushes, and especially LOVERS. There are SO many ways to make relationships without having them be one of those four things. It’s very rare that a relationship dynamic isn’t one that’s listed above.

Some examples of different dynamics:

Competitive Rivals

One Sided Love

One person is envious while the other is oblivious

Admiration/Idolization

Chaotic Duo/Group

One Sided Pity

Found Family (more of)

To quote my friend “Leave shipping to the fans that’s the whole fun of it.”

4. With that said, NO MORE LOVE TRIANGLES PLEASE TO GOD.

WE HAD A TRIANGLE IN SEASON 2. TWO MORE IN SEASON 3. AND A WHOLE SQUARE TOO. You can add tension in relationships without resorting to a triangle. HELL, you can add tension in FRIENDSHIPS. No more triangles. PLEASE.

5. Please don’t make the ending a moral again. “The real money was the friends—” NO. I’m watching a show where 18 people compete for MONEY. I WANT TO WATCH THEM. COMPETE.

FOR.

THE.

MONEY.

I fear that’s literally the whole appeal. This works everywhere EXCEPT DISVENTURE CAMP.

6. Adding on, please don’t repeat a Jake and Riya thing. I don’t want to watch a “good guy” and a “bad guy” fight where the hero sucks at the game they’re playing and the villain is actually playing the game. Make the villains be morally bad but not fucking evil or derailed asf.

7. Make Anastasia, Amalie, Ted, and Spencer the final 4. 😛 Also make them the villains. Make a villain final 4. Make a villain final 6 actually. MAKE A VILLAIN FINAL 6. I want to see these guys be evil and then fucking TURN on each other when they reach the end. THAT’S DRAMA. THATS WHAT I WANNA WATCH. cut throat…

8. Did I say no love triangles? I’ll say it again. No love triangles. PLEASE NO LOVE TRIANGLES.

9. I want Lynda to try the Fiore strategy but everyone sees past her bullshit. That would be so fucking funny please oh god.

10. Please don’t have the hosts have a whole plot line again. Like yeah, I want to see them interact (I love Trevor and Emily)((fix them.)) But they don’t need a whole storyline. I don’t even know what it would be abt??? I’m worried it’ll just be forced drama again. Let’s not.

11. if we HAVE to have a couple, here are my picks:

Hannah x Tristan (honestly this would be fun)

Marissa x Anastasia

Logan x My Greasy King (Spencer)

Potential for fun dynamics with these pairs. I’d prefer a decline of romantic couples but if we HAVE to these are my picks. (“Can’t bitches just be friends?”)

12. I want to see complex characters actually be complex. Especially complex female characters. Riya was done wrong I love her but c’mon 😭😭😭… Complex characters are seen to have multiple layers. For a villain, this would be doing bad things but include: doubt, regret, guilt, just any internal conflict. Please don’t have them just make a face or tear up and then just go back to them. Have their complexity actually affect their behavior.

Also: Not every character needs to be redeemed. Actually, it’s very common to have character progression. However, we should definitely have character regression as well. (Not the Jake kind that sucked ass)

I wanna see a nicer character slowly become more selfish. Kinda like Riya in season 2. That would be really interesting to watch rather a villain become nice. That’s honestly overused.

13. Please have at least everyone be a LITTLE strategic. It was so painful watching characters like Tom, Connor, Aiden, and especially fucking JAKE barely playing the game. Not every character has to be strategical, but can they at least have an ounce of thought…

14. I want to see more twists. All Stars felt bland when the only game twists were the rejoin and the random idol. I want team swaps, I want bogus eliminations, I want more game functionality. If I wanted to watch characters interact, I’d turn on Love Island. Let’s watch the GAME GET PLAYED…

15. did I mention I don’t want love triangles? did I? No love triangles.

16. And lastly… I want my beautiful, amazing, elegant, marvelous, stunning, intelligent, radiant, QUEEN. to win. 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗(we only use pink hearts for her.)

I WANT AMELIE TO WIN DISVENTURE CAMP SEASON 4.

Anyways that’s everything I want. Most are just things I don’t want but that’s okay.

Share your thoughts too cuz I wanna hear them 🫶 if I think of anything else I’ll add it here.

(side note: no love triangles.)

[odinsblog]

Have you ever been over something, and then years later, someone, out of the blue, brings it up and it really just knocks the wind out of you?

Okay, so this is about high school. I’m nearly 40, so that’s multiple lifetimes ago, right?

I’m pretty sure that I’ve posted about this here at least once, but I can’t find the post to link to it

Here’s the deal

In high school I wasn’t …. hmm …. Idk exactly how to describe it. I played sports (track, football, swimming), but I wasn’t POPULAR popular, right? But I also wasn’t NOT popular

My high school (in Florida) hadn’t been desegregated for very long, and there weren’t a LOT of Black students but there was enough of us so that we felt as comfortable as you possibly could given the circumstances

But I was like a universal joint: I played well with others and I fit in well with almost everyone, and if you don’t include some of the overtly racist teachers, I had almost no enemies (don’t get me wrong, I definitely had my share of fights with school bullies, but after you win enough of those, they kinda stop trying you)

Anyway,

I cannot even tell you why, but for some reason in senior year I decided to run for president of the student class

Wild, right?

So after all of the preliminary votes, it narrowed down to two people (I was more surprised than anyone that I actually made it that far - I guess bc I never really expected to win, maybe running for student class president was kinda like a high school bucket list thing for me?)

Anyway, my final opponent was a white guy named Bill. I knew Bill because in high school somewhere along the way, it was impressed on me that I should participate in as many non-athletic extracurricular activities as possible, to make me a better rounded person, and I was in the SUPER FUCKING RACIST Interact Club with Bill. How racist was Interact, you ask? Well, you had to “apply” for membership to Interact. When I applied, I had no idea what it was. I just knew that my student counselor had suggested it to me, and why not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(my graduating class was 2,500 students large, so it wasn’t as big as some of the schools I had attended up north, but it was “big” for Florida)

A teacher was responsible for actually running Interact, but the students really RAN it, know what I mean? Even though I had been working since I was 10yrs old, my Interact Club interview was probably my first real interview. It was kind of a big deal. Like, you had to schedule it and dress up for it and everything. And if you got accepted, your name got put up on a placard, prominently located on one of the main halls of our school

My first interview question, from the teacher in charge of the “club,” was: “Can you take racist jokes against Black people without getting angry?”

WTF??

To say the least, I was 100% completely caught off guard—I knew what racism was, and I definitely knew that it was present in my school, because I’d experienced it firsthand from other students and teachers, but for some reason I wasn’t expecting it to happen at Interact Club. Silly me

I suddenly became acutely aware that I was the only Black person in a room full of white people: the teacher/advisor, about 10 students who were already members of Interact, and mf Bill. Because OF COURSE Bill was already in Interact, and he was just grinning from ear to ear as I sat there in front of the classroom in this fucking “interview” from hell

BUT…! Anyone who knows me knows that one of my core personality traits is, if I get hit—no matter how hard—I always always always hit back. After a moment or two, my response was: “Yeah, can YOU take racist jokes about crackers?”

NGL, I’m not known for my quick wit, or always having the deftest or best clapbacks, but I surprised myself. I really patted myself on the back for that one

Nobody said a word for what seemed like an eternity. It was enough time that I still remember wondering if I might get detention or suspended or something

Finally, the teacher just said, “Okay. You’re in” and he got up, and quietly left the room. Leaving me alone with Bill and 10 not very amused white boys. Bill wasn’t grinning anymore

One or two of the guys got up (I was fully ready to fight, and I was cocky enough to believe that I could take them all down), but they just shook my hand, congratulated me and then they all left the room too

I would later learn that I was the first Black student in my county to get (“accepted”) into the Interact Club. This motif of, “first Black person to…” would follow me around in a lot of aspects in life, until my late 20s

Now, fast forward to the day before Election Day for student body president. It was my very first time giving a public speech. To a crowded auditorium full of my classmates. It was a little bit nerve wracking, but once I got into it, it was easy peasy. Enough so that I actually remember relaxing on stage and even ad libbing a few jokes into my speech. All in all, it wasn’t a bad experience. In fact, I kinda enjoyed it

Lmao, I made a shit ton of promises that I had no idea how I would keep, like getting the school to play music from the local Black radio station in the cafeteria during lunch—and the auditorium exploded in cheers and applause with this impromptu commitment of mine. Like I said, it was a good experience

Bill gave his speech, but I remember it being flat, bland and boring (kinda like Bill) and there was a smattering of claps here and there, and I distinctly recall thinking, “Is Bill really bombing here?” It surprised me because I was like, he had home field advantage, right? I mean, I could count on the Black students to vote for me, but collectively we didn’t account for more than about 15% of my student body class. We had to be bussed in. Bill shoulda been killing it. He had home field advantage, right??

The day after our speeches, was voting day. The principal told Bill and I that we would each be given the results in person before last period, and then the winner would be announced via intercom at the end of the school day. The principal made it clear that the loser would be expected to gracefully accept the outcome and shake hands with the winner. He was looking directly at me as he said this, but it didn’t bother me that much because I never really expected to win. I was outnumbered, but I was proud of myself for making it this far. And everyone who I passed in the hallways was telling me, “Don’t worry, O, I voted for you. You got this in the bag.” A surprising number of white kids were saying this to me. The football team, cheerleaders,… like … a lot of white kids. Hmm… interesting

Weirdly, the closer that me winning seemed like a real possibility, the more I wanted it. But there was no fucking way that I was going to actually win

In the middle of that day, announcement day, I was called to the principal’s office via the p.a. system. I was shaking walking down to the office

I made my way into the office and the school secretary smiled at me and told me to go to another room down the hall where “they” were all waiting for me

And now I’M SUPER NERVOUS

I get to the closed door of the room, take a deep breath, gather my nerves, open the door and go in

And the ONLY people in that room are Bill and that fucking Interact Club teacher, and a few members of the Interact Club. Bill is wearing this giant smirk on his face, and the teacher is smiling. “You lost,” the teacher bluntly told me. “Now shake hands with Bill”

And I start to shake hands, because all of the wind is rapidly leaving my sails, and I’m literally deflating in front of everyone, but just before my hand meets with Bill’s hand, I pause and ask, “How much did I lose by?”

This wasn’t me trying to buy time or anything, I genuinely wanted to know. I was just curious. The teacher looked like this question caught him off guard, and he looked back at two of the students, and then they looked at each other, and they whispered to each other, and then one of them raised one finger, and the Interact teacher said, “You lost by one vote”

Somehow, that was even worse than losing by a hundred votes

And Idk where this presence of mind came from, but I asked if I could get a recount (losing by one vote wasn’t sitting right with me)

The Interact teacher said he didn’t think that was allowed, but he must have seen the look on my face (I was definitely going to go ask the principal) and he gave me a disapproving sigh and said, “Okay, we’ll do the recount. Come back in an hour.”

And I was like, “WHO will do the recount?” and he gestures to the Interact Club members and himself

Oh. Okay.

I just walked out without saying anything. Bill and his friends and the racist teacher were in charge of the vote counting. Great. Fine. Whatever

Needless to say, when the “recount” was done, I still “lost” but this time, I was told that I lost by 2 votes

So yeah, it wasn’t thee worst thing to ever happen to me, but it left a really bad taste in my mouth, ya know? After it was announced to the entire school, everyone was coming up to me for days afterwards telling me that they voted for me and they couldn’t believe that I didn’t win

I always believed that I had won, but it was high school. Whatchagonnado? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It wasn’t a life defining moment or anything, it was just something that happened, but it’s not lost on me that I still recall everything as if it happened last week

But I did let it go and I moved on

It’s something that I haven’t thought about literally in years. Decades, in fact

Until recently

I was out running one morning and a guy was going in the opposite direction and he kinda stared at me as I went around him. And then he yells, “Hey, is your name Odin?” and I stop and go back and tell him yes, and we start talking, and it turns out that he went to my high school. I completely do not remember him, but whatever. It’s always kinda nice to see old faces from old places

So after a few minutes we do the obligatory, “hey let’s exchange phone numbers and keep in touch” thing, but even though I gave him my phone number, I had absolutely no intention of ever contacting him. I’m busy. I got shit to do

Maybe a month later, I get a phone call and it’s the dude who I bumped into who knew me from high school. So in real time, it’s last week

We’re talking and I’m ready to hang up after about 30 seconds, but I don’t want to be rude so I let him keep talking and waited for the right moment to jump in and throw in an excuse to end the call

He’s going on and on and says, “I know you didn’t recognize me that day, but I was trying to talk to you and tell you something, but you seemed like you were in a rush…” and I’m thinking to myself, yeah, much like right now, and for some reason I get unusually blunt (in social settings I’m normally more patient and accommodating, but something felt off, and I really was busy)

Then he says, “I need to tell you something, but I …”

Long silence

Look, man, whatever it is just say it

“Thanks, I just never thought I’d … I want to get it off my … (long sigh)”

Just say it

“You won that election back in high school. I was one of the people counting the votes. You won. You won by a lot. We gave it to Bill”

……

[corn-fanfiction]

SAVIOUR COMPLEX (PT. 6)

(Pt. 5)

Rated: M

TAGS: language/past abuse/Mark Hoffman being a c*p/reader is normal and wants a normal life/Mark is protective bc it's his job but he's also problematic/because he's a c*p/Detective Gibson

**NOTE: Hey guys. Thank you so much for interaction with this fic, and I’m seeing a lot of new followers. I love that!! But I really need to stress right now how I do not support/endorse C*stas M*ndylor as a person or his opinions. He’s racist and I enjoy and only enjoy Mark Hoffman’s character. If you are a C*stas Stan, I highly encourage you to maybe cease interacting with this fic. **

Legs bouncing under the table. Hot coffee between your hands. Your makeup is smeared and not for any of the reasons you had hoped.

Ted is dead. The rhyme would be hilarious if you weren’t shitting bricks. You’ve been sitting in this interrogation room for 45 something minutes without a single word. Maybe they’re sweating you out. Can’t imagine why. You couldn’t talk if you wanted to without your nerves shooting up from your stomach.

You have no idea where Mark is. He had taken you back to the station with him but by the time you got there, someone was pulling you in for questioning. You couldn’t help but wonder if Mark’s in the same spot as you one room over.

Finally, finally, the door opens. A plain looking detective enters with a folder, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and takes a seat across from you.

“What time is it?” You ask weakly. He pauses like he wasn’t expecting you to talk first. He checks his watch.

“Uh, 2:37.”

You nod mutely and stare at the mirror over his shoulder.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you guys still do the one way mirror thing?” You nod to over his shoulder. “Everybody knows what it is because of the movies. So why bother?”

The detective just stares at you. You wonder if he’s stupid.

“You gonna tell me your name?”

He blinks, flips open the folder.

“I’m Detective Gibson. Sorry you had to wait so long.”

“Did you have more people to hassle?”

“That’s not fair. None of them were his ex.”

“But I still wasn’t top of the list?”

He digests your comment before chucking. “Alright, you got me. So we wanted you to sit for a little while.”

“A waste of your time and mine,” you mutter.

“Yeah, seems that you had a hot date with Detective Hoffman, is that right?”

“You gonna book me for conflict of interest?”

“Booking? Getting a little ahead of ourselves. I haven’t even had a chance to tell you what’s in the folder.”

“Nothing of substance.”

“No?”

“No, because there’s nothing there. Let’s just get this first bit out of the way. You don’t intimidate me. Am I here because you think I killed Ted? Is that it? You have a stack of 8 by 10 glossy photos of me with a black eye? How about a broken arm? And yet he never got booked for it.”

“Sounds like a motive.”

You chuckle humorlessly and bury your face in your hands.

“Uh-fucking-believable. Where’s Mark? You shaking him down, too?”

Gibson is quiet again, then shuffles the papers.

“Do you know where you were on July 9th?”

“Last Monday? Depends on the time. Probably work. If not work, home. Hey, you know who you could ask? The person you guys have had tracking my every move for two fucking weeks!”

He’s not smiling but you can tell the fucker is satisfied with your outburst.

“Admissible in court?” You scoff. “I don’t get it. That’s where I was. You don’t have a case. Let me go home so I can mourn and take off my makeup.”

He cocks his head. “Mourn?”

“He was a piece of shit but he was a human being, and I used to love him. I don’t care. No one deserves to die in one of those fucking monstrosities.”

“You draw a pretty clear line, morally.”

“Yes, it’s all a part of my master plan. Can I please go home?”

“Just a few more questions.” He pulls a specific photo. “Take a look at this for me.”

You look, and then grimace at the image. It’s Ted, his arms separated from his body, laying face down in a pool of blood and viscera.

“Jesus,” you groan. Tears start to pool at the corners of your eyes as you force your head over your shoulder.

“You barely looked.”

“I saw enough. Stop fucking with me. I told you all I know. I cut ties with him after his last stint. I don’t do anything. I’m a waitress. I don’t have friends, I don’t leave my apartment. I don’t do anything.” You realize halfway through your memorized spiel that you’re crying. “I don’t know why this shit is following me around but I don’t want it. Any of it. Please just let me go home.”

There’s silence as you shake and let the tears fall from your eyes.

You feel a hand come to yours and you jerk it away like it burned you, suddenly turning back to Gibson with a fury.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You hiss, backing up in your chair. Gibson raises his hands.

“Woah, okay, easy. Alright. I see no reason to keep you any longer. Come on.”

He replaces the papers in his folder and you both stand. You keep your distance but as he holds the door open you realize he’s going to make you pass him. You tense as you do so, feeling his scrutinous eyes on your back. You hate him, he’s an asshole, but you can’t get a read on him. Whatever. You’re exhausted. All you want to do is go home and sleep.

You stumble out of the interrogation room and into the main room of the station, heels in hand. The few people present are watching you. You only have eyes for the door at the end of the hall.

But then a hand is between your shoulder blades and you feel Mark’s heat next to you, smell his cologne. But he doesn’t follow you.

“What the fuck is your problem, Gibson!?”

You turn and Mark has Gibson's collar in a vice grip. Gibson shoves Mark’s hands from him and pushes his chest.

“I’m doing my job, Hoffman. Don’t forget, you’re a suspect too, and in danger of ‘reassignment’. Right?”

“You better keep your nose outta things before something happens to it.”

“Is that a threat?”

You grip Mark’s forearm and spin him around, digging your heels to peel him down the hall.

“Mark, come on, please. Please, let’s just go home. Please.”

Mark’s eyes land on you and they soften. You can’t even imagine what you must look like but you don’t care. You squeeze Mark’s arm.

He turns back to Gibson, straightens out his jacket, runs a hand through his hair, and then he’s walking you out of the station with his hand having returned to your back, content to let it remain there.

The trip back to your place is silent. You don’t even remember the last time you had your shoes on. You go straight for the bathroom and shut the door behind you, locking it. Take off your makeup. Brush out your hair. Stare at yourself in the mirror until your reflection becomes blurry and your knuckles are white as you grip grooves into the sink.

You pee, peel off your panty hose, strip down to your underwear.

Hoffman is leaning against the wall outside the door and he does a very good job hiding his reaction at your bare skin. You sigh anyway.

“Sorry- I wasn’t even thinking…”

“No, don’t worry about it. Come on. You need water?”

You nod and drag your feet to your bedroom. Distantly you can make out the sound of your sink in the kitchen. You manage to take off your bra- some scanty thing you’d picked out for Mark, and slip on a band tee. Mark returns to your side. He’s removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves. He has a guiding hand taking you to your bed and you run your hands along his thick forearms.

“Alright, come on,” Mark half warns/half suggests you under your covers. If you were any more cognizant, you’d hate the way he’s walking you around like a child. But child or not, you need comfort.

He tries to turn away but you grab his wrist.

“Please, don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone.”

Mark sighs. “I don’t think…”

“No, not that. Just lay down with me, please. Or sit. Just please don’t leave me.”

Mark leaves your vision and you don’t turn your attention from the window that scared you shitless last week. Then you feel the bed dip at your back. Feel Mark’s strong arms slip across your stomach and rubbing circles into your shoulder.

You turn in to face his chest. Fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. Inhale the smell of him. You run your fingers along his jaw and press your nose to his. He doesn't move; in fact, his breathing has all but stopped.

You press wet lips to his but he doesn’t return. Just presses his lips together until you pull away.

“Not right now, sweetheart. Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

But he does kiss you on the forehead and you settle for curling into him and let his presence send you into sleep.

[bari-the-witch]

Steddie week day 1 - Pining

Whew, I know I'm late to the party (it's almost 10 p.m. here) and I originally intended this to be a lot longer, but I ran out of time, so... here it is. Hope you enjoy!

Steve Harrington is not pining.

He’s not.

And everyone who says otherwise should probably get their eyes checked.

It’s not pining that he currently has one elbow propped up on the counter at work, his face cradled into the palm of his hand, watching Eddie goof around with Robin, wishing he’s the one getting all the attention from him right now.

It’s not pining he can’t help himself but notice the freckles dotting Eddie’s cheeks and the slope of his nose, the inviting lips currently pulled into an easy smile or how biteable his neck looks today because Eddie gathered up his hair into a high bun atop his head, a side effect of the hot blazing weather outside. A few loose strands frame his face and Steve feels his fingers twitch at the strong urge to stretch his hand out and tuck them behind Eddie’s ears.

And it sure as shit isn’t pining that he wants nothing more than to bury his hands into the thick strands while kissing him senseless until they’re nearly passing out from the lack of air.

A sigh escapes his lips as Eddie throws his head back and laughs with his eyes closed at something Robin said, exposing the long line of his pale neck in the process. Steve follows the movement with his eyes, swallowing hard at the display in front of him.

He notices too late that they stopped talking altogether, both sets of eyes fixed on him.

Shit, he must've been louder than thought.

While Robin grins smugly at him, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, Eddie furrows his brows in confusion.

„You okay there, Stevie?“ he asks concerned, cocking his head to the side. „You look a bit hot under the collar there.“

While it’s normally Steve’s job to act like a mother hen at the slightest sign of distress from the people important to him, Eddie seemed to have slipped on that glove like a second skin after the horrors of the Upside Down finally ended, developing a rather persistent protective streak when it comes to Steve’s wellbeing.

Steve’s not sure where it’s coming from. Maybe Eddie just feels guilty about something although he can’t imagine what.

Clearing his throat to buy him some time and also because his throat suddenly feels like he swallowed a bucket of sticky goo, Steve stands up straight and tries to not look like he got caught at something.

Because he didn’t pine for Eddie.

Okay, fuck yeah, maybe a bit. But no one needs to know that.

„Uh, sure. Sorry I - it’s just… I didn’t sleep much last night, so I’m pretty tired you know?“ Steve says, forcing out a yawn as he hides behind his hand to emphasize his point.

And it’s technically not a lie. He really did sleep like shit with the nightmares keeping him awake for the most part of the night again.

Eddie’s expression turns from confused to full-blown concern in a matter of seconds.

„This bad again?“

„Seems like it,“ Steve sighs deeply, feeling like a shitty friend for using Eddie’s concern to deflect from the real reason they’re having this conversation, him behaving like a lovesick schoolgirl and staring at Eddie’s neck like a creep. But he isn’t ready to have that conversation with him yet. And certainly not in the middle of Family Video of all places while Robin followed their interaction like a hawk ready to strike down its prey.

„But don’t worry, I’ll manage somehow. I mean, it’s not my first rodeo with the Upside Down,“ he adds shrugging to lessen the blow a bit.

Eddie doesn’t look like he's buying into Steve’s bullshit of it not being be a big deal, but at least he’s not suspecting there is a different reason for his behavior.

„Call me next time, no matter how late it is, okay?“ Eddie says firmly and Steve knows he actually means it.

„Thanks, Eddie.“ Steve musters up a sincere smile which Eddie immediately returns.

„You’re welcome sweetheart.“

Sweetheart.

Another one in the long line of pet names Eddie gave him since becoming friends, each one making Steve’s heart flutter more than the one he used before. And this time is no different.

Unable to tear his eyes away from Eddie, Steve feels his heart stumble, doing a whole ballet routine inside his chest that leaves him wanting and breathless. Eddie stares back at him with an unreadable expression.

To his horror, Steve leans slightly forward, right into Eddie’s personal space.

The bubble around them pops when Robin clears her throat, pulling them both out of whatever this is. For a moment, he completely forgot about her.

„Well, as you can see I’m still here, and as much as I enjoyed your little staring contest, we’re still at work, so..." Robin trails off but Steve gets the message either way.

I’m giving you an out here, dingus.

„Uh, be right back,“ Steve says as he grabs a stack of tapes, vanishing to the back of the store without another word. He didn’t even check if the tapes were already rewound before picking them up, but that’s not the point anyway. If they aren't, he can still dump them somewhere and sort them out later.

Of course they aren’t, he notices with a groan, because people are assholes and Steve hates them, so he dumps the tapes ungracefully on the floor with a loud clatter, not caring about the mess he made. What he cares about is his job though, so Steve makes a mental note to sort it out later. Steve's already on thin ice, he doesn’t want to give Keith another reason to put him further up his shit list.

With nothing else to do, Steve heads to the backroom, hiding out on the comfortable couch until Eddie leaves. He’s sure Robin will understand, because there’s no way in hell he’s getting back there after almost jumping Eddie's bones only seconds ago.

While Steve’s fairly comfortable with his bisexuality now, something Robin took a great part in because she knows exactly what he’s going through, there are still a few things he needs to sort out for himself on how to deal with all this pining and wanting.

So you see his problem here.

So he keeps all the feelings bottled up inside, because he’s afraid of screwing this up and destroying their friendship in the process.

And also because he’s a fucking lovestruck idiot who can’t tell left from right as soon as he's hit by the power of Eddie’s impossible large doe eyes.

He doesn't know how much time passed when there’s a knock at the door and Robin carefully peeks inside. „The air’s clear,“ she says gently. Steve only blinks groggily at her (did he doze off?) but still gets up to follow her outside.

„Thanks,“ Steve says after a while of working alongside her in comfortable silence. Robin may not always grasp the social cues on when to keep quiet, but most of the time she knows when he needs time and space to think.„You know, for keeping me from making an idiot out of myself.“

Robin puts down the box of sweets she brought in from the storage room and turns around to face him. „I wouldn’t say idiot because you know my opinion on this-.“

Steve wants to protest but she holds up her hand. „Shush, you know I’m right about this. What I was trying to say is that even though I’m sure Eddie would have been totally on board with this - I said shush, Jesus Christ Steve - this wasn’t the time nor the place for this. I mean, imagine telling people you had your first kiss in the middle of Family Video,“ she snorts like it’s the funniest shit on earth, shaking her head in amusement about her own joke.

„I can’t change your mind about this, huh?“ Steve asks rolling his eyes at which Robin only shakes her head.

„Nope, never. And maybe one day you'll see it too. Hopefully soon, because all that pining is making me all jittery and nervous and sure is gonna drive me crazy if you don’t pull your head out of your asses-.“

Steve looks at her fondly while she continues to ramble needing to bite his lip in order to keep himself from laughing out loud, because Robin started to flail her arms around like one of the blow up thingies they have in front of every car dealership.

It’s a lost cause though, because she looks absolutely ridiculous, and soon, Steve finds himself howling with laughter, the worries of the last few hours melting away like ice in the sun.

[bakugous-forehead]

You’re weird. I have literally never interacted with a single person on this app. After being on here now for about 10 years, never have I come across such demanding and entitled people but in these anime and K-POP fandoms. Everyone’s account is THEIR blog! Who are you to tell people how to use their blog and what for in order for them to enjoy your content?? It is not your right to try and force people out of their comfort zones for your benefit. Blocking silent readers because it bothers you literally makes no sense when they are “fans” too. All I can imagine is you acting like a tyrant child *pouting* crosses arms and stomps foot, “Hmmph! Their not interacting with and boosting my blog the way I want them to!” LOL the way it actually makes me laugh… Likes aren’t good enough for you??? If someone likes the fic that means THEY LIKE IT dummy. Silent readers are silent for a reason I don’t want anyone’s attention on me what so over. So, the least I can do to show my appreciation is through a like and if I REALLY like you I’ll follow your blog. A lot of people feel the same way everywhere on the internet not just Tumblr. It just seems to me you’re pissed because you want more attention because “I feel I work so hard on these fics!” You feel like you deserve more attention, but you won’t be getting it from us. Also, it shouldn’t matter that other people like your writings. Do you like it? Is it good enough to you? Good. Then that is all that matters. People have gotten way to needy for validation the only person’s approval you need is your own. Just admit you want more attention because with your attitude… seems like you don’t do it because you love writing… just seems like you like and wish for the attention that comes with it. Anyways, and since I do still like your writings (Not particularly your personality, thank goodness that has nothing to do with your writings.) I’ll continue to enjoy through Google!😘❤️

Sending me this fat essay on my birthday😂😭

So, the least I can do to show my appreciation is through a like and if I REALLY like you I’ll follow your blog.

Oh my god how honoured I am that you REALLY liked my blog enough to follow me, but I’m glad I blocked you because selfish people like you following me make me uncomfortable so yeah! I’ll be continuing to block people who don’t reblog their fave fics.

“Forcing people out of their comfort zones.”

You’re literally a faceless person on the internet reading anime porn whether you reblog a dick or not. Still don’t know who you are, still will never know who you are.

As I’ve said countless times, I really don’t mind if you read my shit through ao3 (it’s fully available there I think I’m only a few posts behind), I just don’t want you following me? But hey, I’ll take the compliment that even though you seemingly hate authors that you’re still going to continue reading my shit.

It’s literally so mindblowing to me that you took the time to type this out because I upset you by blocking you, but you’ll never send an author/artist you like a comment this long showing them some appreciation— even on anon. Don’t you think that’s really the issue?

Also the first line you said “Everyone’s account is THEIR blog” which is the exact reason why I chose to block you. The same way you can continue to be unsupportive and selfish on your blog?

I’ve been on Tumblr well over 10 years and this might actually be the weirdest ask I’ve ever received? And I’ve received some fucking weird ones.😂💀

[joltning]

okayyy anyway I finished sandguardians YAYYY I was gonna watch guard duty next anyway I didn’t even know ellen was voiced by the creator of that. jumpscare. anyway uhh

claire’s va change scared me so bad the tonal shift between the two is immense

THING FOR THE WHOLE SERIES BUT I FUCKINH LOVE SEALS ARMOR CHANGE GIMMICK SO MUCH ITS SO GOOD like not only for the environment but if he hangs around people more he changes to their colors? YUPPPPPP SIGN ME UP BITCH

umm I think gates is tolerable but tbh I like his dynamics with claire and miller better than his character himself 😭esp claire and gates they’re such a good duo.

I feel like out of the trio miller has the least amount of time to develop a dynamic, like miller and gates is like two guys dicking around and miller and Claire is just…I mean I guess they’re friends nothing to say about them right

am I tweaking or does miller like lowkey have a crush on nash or smth /j no but rlly I like the dynamics of miller-nash and claire-nash umm nothing on gates and nash wtf do they do

NOW WHY DID I NOT REALIZE ALL THE FUCKING BEGINNING CHARACTERS ARW VOICED BY THE CREATOR I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION “oh this is a big group of friends!” NO BITCH ITS ONE GUY. talk about range

honestly I cannot get a grasp on ichabods character I feel like every scene he’s in is ooc /j no but like I mean. like I feel like he isn’t close with EITHER dax or jason why do you feel like close enough to vent to eachother omg have you guys talked more than 10 times. OH YEAH ALSO JASON JUST DROPPING RHAT HES SUICIDAL OKAY LIKE HELLO

but tbh speaking of ichabod…… actually I feel like his interactions with ellen r closer and better than his team am I going cra

AND THE TEAM. oh lird what is happening with seal and legend Lirddd

no lie I miss the “kind of sounds like English garble talk” sangheili voice over the reverse audio one…I had this idea in my head that The Guy In White was a native sangheili speaker cuz when he grunted or did battle cries it sounded similar to that….

wtf was ellen on about when nash was like. “Ohh do you have a crush on anyone maybe mary?” And she was like “love her but not the one I’m looking for” WHO are you looking for. don’t bait me like this I will bite on the bars of my enclosure

I was starting to think like “this show has a lot of dead people who weren’t around for long🤔” BIIITCH YOU WATCHED RECRUITS I COULD NOT COUNT THE NOTEABLE DEATHS OF THAT SERIES ON BOTH HANDS if anyone gets to here hi I still might care for those guys maybe but I’m on that high I get whenever I finish a series so haiiii if anyone has watched this one too(GLARES AT YOU SKELA) let’s talk about it or smth

[stellewriites]

twenty questions for fic writers 🫡

thanks for the tag @syoddeye!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

50

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

699,806

3. what fandoms do you write for?

oh god, ongoing or previous too?? uhm currently batfam, star wars, cod, st - but i’ve had a few extra that i used to write for too

4. top five fics by kudos

i’m not linking them all bc some are,,,, far from my best work. also can u tell i love a long lyric title?

if you can’t give me all, give me nothing ; memorise the way you make me feel ; the way you move like you do ; i’m addicted to the way i feel when i think of you ; took the words right out of my mouth

5. do you respond to comments?

literally every single one,, before getting this account back a few months ago it was the only way i interacted w people in the fandoms so 🤷‍♀️ sometimes it might take a week tho but i try to be quick

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i don’t tend to do angst endings? like even in darker angsty fics i usually twist it so it’s like dubcon happy at the end 🥴🥴 sooo maybe either no grave can hold my body down or can i steal a kiss or two? or even choices made in anger

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

liiiiiterally any other fic i’ve ever written lmao

8. do you get hate on fics?

not often? BUT i usually do fluff fics and when i started dabbling in darker stuff that’s when i got more hate - specifically on one fic in particular

9. do you write smut?

yeah! not all the time but maybe 65%

10. craziest crossover:

i dont really do crossovers but my last mando fic was inspired by justified if that counts?

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of,, again im not very online to be able to know :/

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah! just one but now i dont do it,, learning curve for me

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

almost when i was first starting out writing 6 years back but it fell through - katy if ur still out there i hope ur enjoying life <3

14. all time favorite ship?

ffffuckkkkkk i don’t think i can choose bc i dip in and out so often but i do tend to always come back to jaytim? they’re my for lifers i think but soap x reader is a close second atm

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i’ll always finish my wips bc i can’t stand to see them unfinished,, but it’s been like three years since i first said i was going to write my sci-fi dystopian jaytim fic and im still not past the first paragraph :/

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i’m good at dialogue and catching accents and nailing personalities pretty quick,,

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i’m so fucking slow. if nothing else, watching people write for cod on here has shown me how quick everyone else seems to be able to write :’)

and also with longer fics i’ve gotten into the (bad) habit of leaving out like integral details that i assume the reader will just know bc ive been too in my own head about it all and ive forgotten what i’ve established already; leads to decisions looking like they’ve come out of nowhere or random personality changes

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i’ve attempted it but i have to google translate it so i try to keep it to a minimum and ask for correction in the comments. sometimes i do it italicised but written in english so readers can understand that it’s meant to be another language but dont have to skip to the bottom notes or another tab to understand what’s being said

19. first fandom you wrote in?

teen wolf 🥴

20. favorite fic you've written?

idk if i’ve got a favourite,, in hindsight a lot of the ones i think about most fondly are the ones that absolutely killed me off when writing so i’ve got real rose tinted glasses about them all. however these are few that should get honourable mentions just because i like them and they didn’t pop up earlier

whew this was long i think i yapped ontoo much lmao but it was so fun!!

no pressure tags: @glossysoap @mikichko @kyletogaz @femalefemur @sentientcave @gemmahale @madstronaut and anyone else who wants to give it a go!!

[apathetic-dry-rot]

Wilting Nerium- Chapter 2: DEATH

Lawrence Oleander x AFAB!GN!Reader

CW/TW: Panic attack, mentions of kidnapping, hallucination, implied stalking, alcohol consumption

Dead Doe: Do Not Eat

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the content in this fanfic or game in real life!

Lawrence Oleander belongs to Gatobob

NOW PLAYING: DEATH- Melanie Martinez

I was discharged a week ago, and I haven’t stopped searching.

Starting with that little ginger he had been with- Ren.

Which wasn’t proving to be very easy.

It’s like he doesn’t even fucking exist.

“Fucking shit.”

I rubbed my face as I groaned, then deciding to stand and grab my keys-

A walk would clear my head.

Against all better judgments, I decided to go where everything started.

The Jackalope.

It was still just as quiet as it was before, with the same warm atmosphere.

My eyes flitted around the space before- That Table.

It’s almost like I saw him there again, sitting alone and hunched over with his hands in his lap.

Like he was fucking waiting for me.

No, no, he didn’t even have a TV in his apartment, or even a phone from what I could tell- there’s no way he knew I was still alive.

Despite knowing that, my chest tightened. I could feel a scream stuck in my throat as my eyes welled up, but all I could let out was a pained whimper as I dry heaved and my breathing sped up. I could feel everything, my skin was screaming-

Out, OUT, OUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUT-

I flew out of the bar and leaned against the wall, gulping air like I had just been buried alive, my brain searching for a place to hide. I could feel the adrenaline swimming through me, and I ran into a nearby alley so no one would see me-

So He wouldn’t see me.

“He’s not here, he’s not here, he’s not here, he’s not here, he’s not here, he’s not here.”

I was sobbing now, trying to greedily intake air while keeping quiet so people wouldn’t stare.

Breathe in, breathe out. In, and out.

I counted with my fingers as I held the breaths, slowly calming down now that I was alone.

I knew it was a stupid fucking idea. Dumbass, always fucking doing this to myself.

I held my face in my hands for several minutes before forcing myself back inside the small pub, welcoming the warm air.

I sighed heavily, sliding in the booth farthest from the door, ordering a pint of Angry Orchard and some cheese curds.

I’ve earned these carbs. I also haven’t eaten much in a while.

I scrolled through my social medias while waiting for my order, searching to see if there were any other leads on the red head. He was the last person to see me before I was… taken.

Well, besides Lawrence, of course.

The place really hadn’t changed much.

Still no Tvs.

I laid my head on the table with a small groan, muttering a ‘thanks’ to the waitress as she set down my food.

“Um, excuse me?”

I looked up from my moment of brooding. The girl was pretty, slender legs, soft yet broad shoulders, toned body, with shoulder-length, messy brunette hair, shining amber eyes. She wore the generic uniform for the pub, her name tag reading ‘Serena.’

“Can I help you?”

My breathing hitched as she said my name carefully, slowly, like she’d die if she was wrong.

“That’s you, isn’t it? I’ve been following your case. I was supposed to work that night, and I’ve felt really guilty about it ever since. Like- like maybe, just maybe if I had come in it wouldn’t have, you wouldn’t-”

I cringed slightly, rubbing my scar awkwardly.

“Yeah, it’s.. It’s not your fault. There’s probably nothing that you could’ve done. You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

Serena shifted her weight nervously, fiddling with her fingers.

He used to do that-

“Well, everything is on the house! As an apology from the company for what you went through.”

I smile slightly, thanking her once more before returning to my meal.

It wasn’t until around 10:30 that I got home, but that break definitely helped. I felt a lot better now than I did earlier.

I felt like a person again. It was nice.

Word Count: 666