#although I’m sure I’d recognize it if I heard it

[missanathea]

Yep that is indeed what I’ve been listening to these past few weeks

[trentsgirl]

— 🗝️⋆⭒˚｡⋆

⟡ summary: as a renowned actress and the partner of footballer joão felix, you find yourself attending an interview, unaware that he is actually the one conducting it.

⟡ content: fluff, a little proofread, reader a bit of a dumbass for not realizing but it had to be this way, nardwuar reference in the end.

⟡ request: here:))

⟡ masterlist.

when you were informed that you’ll be interviewed, you expected to have a face-to-face interaction. however, you were surprised when they placed you in front of a camera and inserted an earpiece, explaining that the interviewer could see you, but you couldn’t see them.

you didn’t think much of it and decided to go along with the situation. however, in hindsight, it would have been wise to question the unusual setup, considering that your boyfriend, joão, was the one conducting the interview as a prank on you.

clearly, you had no idea.

“hello, i’m spencer, and i will be conducting the interview today,” a male voice resonated through the earpiece.

joão couldn’t help but chuckle at his attempt to put on a fake british accent. it was quite comical, yet once again, you didn’t find it peculiar and simply nodded in response.

“hello,” you greeted with a smile directed at the camera. “i’m y/n.”

you heard joão humming before he rudely questioned, “is that what you’re planning to wear for the interview, ma’am?”

upon hearing joão’s remark, your smile quickly faded, and you glanced down at your dress. you were wearing a beautiful white sundress adorned with blue flowers, a dress that joão actually adored and considered one of his favorites.

however, his comment was part of the question he was given by production.

you chuckled awkwardly in response, stealing a quick glance at your manager who was standing with the production team. your manager simply shrugged his shoulders, leaving you to address the question. “um, do you not like it?” you asked, trying to maintain a light tone.

joão hummed once again, his disapproval evident in his tone, and you barely was able to resist rolling your eyes.

“it’s lovely, ma’am. i was just wondering.” he said, although it was clear that he didn’t truly think so.

“anyways, let’s start shall we?”

“yeah, sure.”

joão proceeded with the question and had to restrain himself from bursting into laughter due to its absurdity. “alright... so, why do you think men like you? is it because of big breasts or personality?”

the unexpected question caught you off guard, causing your eyebrows to jump in astonishment. you were under the impression that the interview would focus on your new role in bridgerton, not about your breasts.

“I’d liked to say personality but we both know that’s not true.”

your answer prompted a few chuckles from the production team, but joão restrained himself from laughing, aware that you would immediately recognize his distinct laughter.

“do you genuinely believe that you have big breasts, ma’am?” joão asked solemnly.

glancing down at your chest, you took a brief moment to assess before raising your gaze and nodding. “yes, i suppose so.”

and again, there’s that stupid hum.

joão continued with the next question, “alright, moving on. who do you believe should pay for the first date? the man or the woman?”

you were still puzzled about how any of these questions were relevant to your show, but you chose to answer to avoid causing any disruptions.

“i don’t really mind,” you shrugged. “whenever my boyfriend and i go out, he usually insists on paying, but i would be more than happy to pay. he just never lets me.”

joão smirked, knowing well that what you had said was indeed the truth. he had never dared to let you pay for anything, even though you were one of the highest-paid actresses in the industry.

he held old-fashioned views and saw nothing wrong with it.

“more than happy to pay? i haven’t heard a woman say that, like ever. that’s new… are you sure you’re not just saying it?”

joão noticed that he had upset you when he saw your stern and intense expression through the camera.

it was evident to anyone watching the interview that joão was thoroughly relishing the opportunity to annoy you.

“i’m sure, spencer.”

he could recognize the annoyance in your voice. he realized that spencer had made it onto your list of least favorite people. it was amusing to joão how you actually maintained a physical list of people you weren’t fond of.

“why do you always let your boyfriend pay for everything? doesn’t it make you feel guilty? what a poor guy...” joão remarked, his voice dripping with feigned disappointment.

you managed to maintain your composure and professionalism, although it was a challenge. who did this guy think he was, pushing your limits like that?!

“I can assure you we’re very happy, next question, please.”

you were eager to talk about a different topic, nothing that involved your boyfriend or personal matters. that wasn’t the focus you had in mind for the interview.

“alright.. why do you prefer to sleep on the right side of the bed and not the left side?” joão inquired.

you appeared visibly unsettled. the only person who knew which side you slept on was joão and only him. not even your manager was aware of this detail.

“how on earth do you know that?” you wondered, a disbelieving chuckle escaping from your lips.

joão tried to maintain a serious demeanor, but your facial expressions were absolutely hilarious. they were pure gold. your level of discomfort was evident, and you made no attempt to conceal it.

“you’re y/n l/n, we have got to know.”

you cast a pleading glance at your manager, silently urging him to bring this ridiculous interview to a close.

“this is getting too strange for me. i don’t think i wanna continue with this interview,” you stated, reaching to remove the earpiece, but spencer intervened to stop you.

“wait, just one more question and we’ll be done!” he assured you.

you out a sigh, reluctantly acquiescing. mentally preparing yourself for yet another bizarre question, you were taken aback by what he actually said.

“how does it feel to be pranked?”

immediately, you recognized the portuguese accent of your boyfriend, who was clearly amused and laughing uncontrollably.

“joão? oh, i’m so going to kill you!”

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 11

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, angst, more serial killer shenanigans & a twist

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: So sorry for being so elusive this week! Still playing catch-up on everything after being sick for so long 🤪 I'll be back fully by Monday and talk to you guys again soon. Meanwhile, I didn't want you to wait for this chapter, so enjoy 🤍

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 11: You With Me

Once you had waltzed right through those cursed glass doors of the hospital and ended up at the parking lot, you stopped thinking and kept on running – literally. Out of breath, you started the car and drove until the building was out of view. And before you knew what you had done, you had passed the town sign of Helena as well.

But your dire need for escape didn’t last long.

It would’ve been so easy to just keep driving and leave all of it behind you in the rearview mirror. Maybe your big pile of cow manure would still make a decent fertilizer for the local farmers. But the ache lassoed around your heart tugged you back.

Pulling over to the side of the road, you took a moment to clear your mind. Head in your hands, you let yourself fall back into your seat and took a few deep breaths. You only ever made it through one yoga class, but you remembered the breathing had helped.

Still, every bone in your body wanted to bolt and never see either one of them again. In your mind, you had already asked your boss for a transfer. Maybe it was time to finally take him up on that offer to ship you off to DC.

But, of course, you couldn’t do it.

With a screeching U-turn, you headed back to town. Your destination wasn’t the hospital, however. Instead, you ended up at the Sheriff’s Department.

“Agent Y/L/N?”

On your way inside, a middle-aged man in a long, gray coat jumped up from a bench in front the building. He looked distraught, half his face hidden by a navy, voluminous scarf, but you still recognized him instantly.

“Mr. Hughes,” you said with a hint of surprise in your voice. He was the last victim’s husband, and you wondered what he was doing here. Had Jenny brought him in for more questioning?

“I heard you caught the killer. Is that true?”

Small towns, you scoffed and rolled your eyes internally.

“Mr. Hughes, I’m very sorry. I know you want answers, but please understand that I can’t share any more information with you at this point. The Sheriff’s deputies will update you as soon as we know more,” you gave the procedural answer and suddenly accelerated your pace, looking for the safety of the station in a hurry – and not only because it had gotten cold.

“Is it that DA?” he asked desperately as he followed you and cornered you again by the door.

So close…

“Mr. Hu–”

However, he didn’t let you finish this time and cut you off, “Because if it is, there’s something you should know.”

“You sure that’s her?” you asked for the third time as Mr. Hughes stared intensely at Diane, handcuffed to a metal table in Interrogation Room 1 this time.

Diane grinned like she had just won the lottery, even though no one was in the room with her. You had hauled her from her little jail cell just so Hughes could properly identify her. Although he recognized her in photos, you wanted to be sure. God knows Diane would rip that testimony apart in court, otherwise.

Hughes nodded vehemently. “Yes, I’m positive, Agent Y/L/N. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“I just had to make sure. I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you, Mr. Hughes,” you reiterated.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’d recognize the first woman I slept with after my wife was murdered,” he snapped impatiently, but you couldn’t blame him. The man was really going through it at the moment.

“Of course. We believe you, Mr. Hughes. Thank you for coming in and letting us know,” Jenny said and took over, seeing the exhaustion on your face. “There’s some coffee in the lobby. Why don’t you help yourself while Deputy Poppernak fills you in on the next steps.”

With a heavy head, he nodded and dragged his weary feet out of the small room. “Alright. Thank you kindly, ladies.”

You exhaled a deep breath as soon as the door closed and ran a hand through your hair. You couldn’t catch a break, could you?

“Hughes is pretty shaken up,” Jenny noted pensively.

“Yeah, I mean, can you imagine finding out you unknowingly slept with your wife’s killer?” And suddenly, it dawned on you – the irony of Diane’s plan. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Jenny raised a brow but gave you a comforting smile. “How are you holding up?”

“Not gonna lie. Been better,” you replied dryly.

“Wanna fill me in over coffee?”

You nodded with a smirk. “Only if you pour a lot of whiskey into my mug, too.”

Jenny grinned. “Deal.”

“I almost bolted today,” you told Jenny as the two of you sat at the big round table of the station’s break room. You clasped the warm mug even tighter in your cold hands. “Made it past the town sign, too.”

“Why did you come back?” Jenny took a sip from her own drink, hiding her knowing smile behind her cup.

“The job.”

Jenny snorted and cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really?”

You smiled, your eyes focusing on the mug in your hands. “No.”

“You love both of ‘em?”

You nodded but didn’t meet her eyes. “In a way, yeah…”

“But it’s Beau,” Jenny stated like it was obvious.

“I-…” You let out a sigh. “I guess I’m scared to be cruel. It just seems so… unfair to him. Randy doesn’t deserve this. And even if… How are me and Beau supposed to just move on happily, knowing all of this? I’m afraid Diane might win this one. She actually found the goddamn breaking point. I don’t think our relationship can survive this.”

“Maybe not,” Jenny agreed quietly. She knew you had found yourself in an impossible situation. No matter where you looked for a solution, you only ever found dead ends. “Look, maybe you and Beau can’t get past this. But staying with Randy because you feel bad and don’t want to hurt his feelings is just going to hurt him more in the end. It’s crueler if you stay. You’re not doing him a favor.”

“Oh, I know. Trust me. I’ve been through this a thousand times over the last twenty-four hours. No one’s winning anything here,” you said and took a big sip from your alcoholic coffee. Then suddenly, your gut got that familiar twinge again. Your eyes widened as they found Jenny’s.

“What?” The blonde blinked at you. “I know that look. You found something.”

“We need to speak with the other victims’ husbands,” you informed Jenny, urgency swinging in your voice.

“You think she slept with the others as well?”

“What d’you think?”

Jenny sighed and blew the frustrated puff of air into her mug. She shook her head and muttered grimly, “Fucking Diane.”

“Let’s get back to work.”

Breathlessly, Beau stood in front of the hospital, hands on his squared-off hips. He looked left and right, but as far as he could tell you were long gone.

Hearing an exhaustive sigh behind him, he spun around and found his old partner fully clothed. Randy ripped off his hospital bracelet and let his lungs fill with a breath of fresh, cold mountain air. He shivered a bit in his thin denim jacket and t-shirt. Diane must’ve not left him with clothes appropriate for Montana’s dropping temperatures. Winter had rolled into the country – in more ways than one.

Beau lifted an eyebrow. “Did they discharge you?”

“Nope. Discharged myself,” Randy retorted and looked across the parking lot.

“Randy–”

“I’m fine,” he bit. “There’s nothing wrong with me, so can we please just go look for my wife?”

Wide-eyed, Beau stumped. “I’m sorry… we?!”

Spending any more time with Randy was definitely the last thing Beau needed.

“Yes, we. I don’t have a car. You have to drive,” Randy clarified, the anger in his voice still swinging punches at Beau’s face. Every word out of Randy’s mouth spelled the same message: You owe me. Beau could hardly argue with that. “Which one’s yours?”

Sourly, Beau pointed straight ahead. “The red Jeep.”

Randy’s brow furrowed. “That rusty old thing? Where the hell did you get that?”

“Mexico.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Hey, I know you’re angry with me, but don’t take it out on Pedro and hurt his feelings,” Beau said, hoping his lightheartedness would be contagious. Randy was immune, however, and didn’t break a smile. “Just stay here, go back inside, and let me look for her alone.”

“Oh, you would love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Actually, I would.”

“Forget it. I’m not staying here,” Randy huffed and opened the car door, heaving himself into the passenger seat.

Beau sighed deeply, tapping Pedro’s roof with his flat palm. “‘Course you’re not,” he muttered bitterly, rolling his eyes back.

“Congrats, Diane,” you said and slapped yet another folder down in front of her. A smirk played across the murderous prosecutor’s lips. She hoped you’d find the smoking gun eventually, and you hated the fact she always seemed to be miles ahead. “So far, I’ve spoken to seventeen husbands of your previous victims, and you… Wow.”

Honestly, you were speechless. As were all the husbands when you had the honor of telling them over the phone they might have screwed their wives’ killer. But you weren’t just looking for confirmation. Something had bugged you since Randy had magically appeared in a hospital bed.

Diane shrugged coolly – and proudly. “What can I say? I got around. Please give them my condolences.”

You scoffed a humorless chuckle and sat down across from her. “You know, something keeps gnawing on me. First of all, how the fuck did you know Randy was still alive?”

The cold-hearted lawyer smiled. “Can’t blame you. That’s a doozie.”

“And even if you did find out, how on earth did you get him out of the cartel’s claws? I mean, that alone would deserve some applause. Hate to say it, but I’m honestly impressed,” you admitted, even though your admiration was just a honey trap.

“Thank you, Agent. I appreciate your honesty. I know that must not have been easy for you to admit,” Diane replied and leaned forward on the table. “Truth is, getting him out was easy. The cartel wanted to get rid of him. He was just dead weight that attracted too much attention from law enforcement.”

“So you made a deal with them, and they just… gave him to you?” It sounded unbelievable, and you knew she was hiding something, only revealing parts of the truth to you.

“As I said, they wanted to get rid of him. In a way, you owe me. I saved him. They would’ve executed him a week later and put his head on a stick for you to find,” Diane argued, shrugging her shoulders.

It was hard to deny. In a weird way, she was right. She did save Randy, even if it was just for her personal gain. Blowing up your life or not, Randy was back – thanks to her.

“Fine,” you relented. “The second thing that keeps bugging me, though, is: How did you let Randy escape from the bunker? Was there a timer on the door, and it just opened? ‘Cause Randy said he only remembers someone stabbing him with a needle before he woke up by the side of the road. I looked at his tox screen, he still had enough in his system when he got to the hospital. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours. So, either you almost gave him a lethal dose and he got lucky, or…”

“Or what, Agent?”

You met her icy gray eyes. “You’re working with someone,” you stated determinedly. You didn’t need her to confirm it. You knew. Every bone in your body, every drop of blood – you knew.

A smile flickered alive in the corners of her mouth. Warm. Fond. “Well done. I knew you’d get there.”

Abruptly, you rose from you seat and stormed through the door, leaving Diane behind. You had to find your second killer.

“Good luck, Agent!”

“Beau.” Jenny rose from her desk with an arched eyebrow at the strange man following the sheriff inside the station. She witnessed a brief (and rather heated) exchange of words between the men before Beau walked her way with a furiously creased brow.

“You seen Y/N?” With a shake of his head that was supposed to release some of his exasperation, the sheriff took off his hat and ran a hand through his locks.

“You just missed her,” Jenny informed her exhausted boss.

“Dammit!”

“Rough day?”

“Yup, doesn’t seem to be gettin’ easier, either,” Beau replied, carrying frustration in his voice as he glanced back over his shoulder at his former partner.

“Is that–”

“Randy? Yeah,” Beau confirmed with an annoyed huff.

“Huh. Interesting…”

Beau scowled at the blonde. “What?”

“Nothing.” Jenny gave a shrug of her shoulders and tilted her head at Randy. “Just thought he’d be different. That’s all.”

Suspiciously, Beau’s eyes narrowed, darting from Randy to Jenny. “Are you checking him out, Hoyt?”

“What? No,” Jenny replied a little too defensively. “‘Sides, if I was, I’d be doing you a favor.”

Beau swayed his head from side to side, actually considering the option. “You’re not wrong. Can’t seem to get rid of him… And I realize that makes me sound like an asshole.”

“Yeah, it does,” Jenny replied, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Thanks, Hoyt,” Beau scoffed. “Any idea where Y/N went?”

“Not exactly. We’ve had an interesting visitor today. Remember Hughes?”

Beau nodded. “Husband of our last victim.”

“He came by the station after hearing we caught Diane,” Jenny explained. “He confessed to sleeping with her after his wife was killed.”

Beau’s brow furrowed, green eyes widening. “Wait, did he know that-…?”

Jenny shook her head. “No, he didn’t connect the dots till we had her in custody. But Y/N and I then checked the other–”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples. “Don’t tell me she–”

“Uh-huh.”

“Unbelievable…” Beau let his shaking head hang, sighing.

“Y/N then had a chat with Diane. She confirmed it,” Jenny informed him further. “After that, she stormed out. Said she was following a lead.”

“You know which one?”

Jenny shook her head apologetically. “I wasn’t in the room. I was still calling husbands. But Y/N had a few more names left on her list from the Texas victims.”

Beau then pulled out his phone and tried you again, but only ever caught the receiving end of your voicemail, which wasn’t rare, considering the spotty service in town. “Still voicemail.”

“What’s that?” Jenny leaned closer, squinting her eyes at his screen. “You’ve got a message.”

“Huh. It’s from her. Ten minutes ago. Voicemail,” Beau said and frowned at his phone, his thumb wringing with the touchscreen.

He then held it to his ear and listened.

“Ugh, voicemail. Again. Stupid woods everywhere…” you huffed a sigh into your phone, your eyes concentrating on the foggy road ahead. “Beau, it’s me. I’ve found something. Driving to your place now. Meet me there,” you said, already rounding the corner to his road. “Diane’s not working alone. She has a partner. Probably someone submissive that she can manipulate easily to do her bidding…”

Parking the car in front of his trailer, you unfastened your seatbelt and hurried out.

“I checked the list of husbands. I think it’s our first victim in Texas. His name is Hal Turner. He is a quiet accountant. Kind of an odd duck when I spoke to him…” Looking through Beau’s planters, you searched for the second key. You knew he hid it here somewhere. “But he did serve some prison time a couple years ago. And while he was in prison, his wife was having an affair… with Diane���s husband, his goddamn defense attorney. And if your mind isn’t blown yet, just wait for the next part. Guess why Turner was in prison in the first place? See, he tried earning some extra cash, doing the books for a biker gang, which just so happens to be connected to our favorite cartel. Yeah… That’s probably how they got their hands on Randy.”

There was a noise. You had realized it too late, and your weapon was still in the car. One breath later, you felt the cool metal of a gun barrel pressing against the back of your skull.

“Uhm… anyways, put out an APB. I’m here now, so… just get here too, okay? I love you. Bye.”

You dropped your phone to the ground and raised your hands, taking a deep breath before you spoke. “Whoa, slow down there, cowboy. I left my gun in the car. I’m no threat to you. You don’t have to do this, Mr. Turner.”

“You’ve figured it all out. She said you were smart,” he said, and you could hear the uneasiness, the jitters, in his voice.

“Mr. Turner, I’m gonna turn around now, so we can talk better, okay?” you pleaded, ordering your body to stay calm.

“What’s there to talk about? I have to do this. I can’t disappoint her,” the man stated. And once you looked at him, you knew he wasn’t of sound mind anymore. Diane had done a number on the guy.

“No, you don’t. You heard. I already told my colleagues about you. They’re gonna look for you. It’s over, Mr. Turner,” you explained as gently as possible. “But if you come willingly to the station with me, I’ll make sure to get you a deal with the DA. Please… Don’t do this.”

For a moment, you thought he bought it. He hesitated as if he were actually considering the option to end it all right there. But then you recognized the pity in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Yeah… That’s probably how they got their hands on Randy… Uhm… anyways, put out an APB. I’m here now, so… just get here too, okay? I love you. Bye.”

Half the station had gathered around the sheriff, including Randy, as soon as Beau put your message on speaker after the first few sentences. Beau only snapped his finger at Poppernak, who nodded eagerly and raced to the nearest computer, putting out an APB on Hal Turner.

Randy cleared his throat and excused himself outside before Beau realized what exactly had bothered his former partner about your message.

I love you.

Only Jenny remained standing next to him with a creased brow. He knew that look.

“What?” Beau prompted. “I know. Trust me. I wouldn’t have put it on speaker if I had known beforehand.”

“No, not that.” Jenny shook her head but then changed her mind. “Or maybe exactly that. Didn’t she sound weird to you towards the end?”

Beau shrugged. His mind might have turned off temporarily after hearing those three words. “What d’you mean?”

“At the start, she’s all excited because she solved the case, right? But then there’s this weird pause before her voice changes. She sounds… calm,” Jenny explained.

“You mean because she’s trying to stay calm,” Beau added.

“Because she’s seen something,” Jenny finished. “Someone. Hal Turner.”

Green eyes widened as his chest tightened. Beau thundered outside, passing Randy on a bench on his way to the car.

“Whoa, what’s going on? Where are you running off to?” Randy hurried straight after him and met him by the Jeep. “Are you going after Y/N?”

Internally, Beau sighed, but he knew they didn’t have time for a discussion.

“Get in! Y/N’s in trouble.”

July 2021

“Been a minute,” Beau said as you hopped into the driver’s seat of the SUV. He forced a smile, one he had hoped would conceal his nervousness appropriately. He even let you drive – just so he could get back into your good graces.

If that wasn’t a peace offering, he didn’t know what was.

“Uh-huh…”

Beau wanted to sigh but refrained from doing so. That would’ve probably just annoyed you. He was handing you an olive branch, and you were throwing it into the wood chipper. He supposed he had to live with that.

After the drunk debacle and a dire hangover that almost cost him his job, Beau knew he had to crawl back to Cody. He actually apologized, bootlicked and cowered, and then submissively asked to be partnered up with you again. And after all of that, the dick still had said no.

You went undercover shortly after, and Beau went back home, giving his failing marriage another shot. The old college try. Well, Carla didn’t appreciate any of it. Too little, too late, she’d said.

Now, both of you were back, and the only reason Beau was allowed to share a car with you again was because you had explicitly requested it. Beau had been surprised to hear that, frankly, but it gave him hope things could be repaired. Maybe that had been your idea of extending an olive branch.

“Thanks, you know,” Beau said and focused his gaze on his clasped hands in his lap. “I know you put in the request to be my partner again.”

“Kinda had to,” you scoffed and pushed the key into the ignition, maybe a little too forcefully for the occasion. “No one in the team wants to work with you anymore. They were practically begging me to take you back. You’re a real people person, aren’t you?”

Alright, maybe it wasn’t exactly a full branch.

Had he sulked? Been moody? Absentminded in recent weeks?

Yes, absolutely.

“Still, thanks…” Beau licked his lips. He wanted to make things right – but how? “Look, I’m really sorry about what happened. I am. I swear to you nothin’ like it will ever happen again, alright?”

For a mere second, you stopped every movement. His words sunk in. No, it was exactly what you wanted all along.

Right?

“Good.”

“Alright, then…” Beau exhaled a sigh. He didn’t know what he’d expected to hear, but that answer surely left more to desire. Not to mention, the thousands of questions that gnawed on him like nasty termites.

You started the car and reversed out of the spot, thinking and hoping this conversation was over – once and for all. Bury the goddamn hatchet six-feet-under. But Beau seemed to have a different idea of how you two would spend your afternoon:

“If that’s what you want…”

He said it so passive-aggressively it bordered on childish. What the hell was he aiming for? Had he gone mad?

“It’s what I want.”

You’d be damned if you got roped into this one. Beau Arlen would not drag you down into the pits of hell with him. But hesitation had come before your answer, and Beau had noticed.

“You sure?”

For fuck’s sake!

Mind, you still had to navigate out of that incredibly tight parking spot with that fucking gigantic car (and not looking like a damn fool when doing so) while that idiot next you, your partner, kept yapping on. And mind, if you did indeed mess up, he’d surely (and not helpfully) inform you why he never let you drive.

“I’m sure.”

Beau nodded. Not in acceptance – he was thinking. “Just answer me one question…”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

Bringing the SUV to a screeching halt, you both jolted forward into your seatbelts. Another driver leaving the parking lot honked behind you for blocking their way.

“Fuck off!” you yelled, leaning halfway out the rolled down window.

“You want me to dri–”

“Nope.”

“Alright, then.”

That asshole…

Then silence fell. You didn’t move, though, and Beau didn’t pressure you to. The car kept running till you turned it off and sunk back into your seat.

“Why are you so mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.”

“I don’t think the punishment fits the crime.”

“Oh, I think it does.”

Beau rubbed his lips with his thumb and finger and stared out the window. Again, he was thinking. He might as well have taken up chess as a leisure activity.

Was he weak if he wanted to fight?

“Look, if you’re only this mad ‘cause you think you’d just be my rebound, then you should know that never would’ve been the case, alright?”

Beau looked at you, and you met his eyes. You were scared to admit it, even to yourself, but your feelings were harder to ignore when you stared at him.

“I wouldn’t have risked our friendship for nothin’,” he muttered under his breath.

“Don’t.” You clutched the steering wheel in your grasp a little tighter.

“So, what? We just never talk about it?”

Beau knew in that moment that, whatever he felt, it wasn’t just a simple crush that would dissipate over time. It would stay. How was he supposed ignore an elephant this big?

“That’s exactly what we’re supposed to do,” you stated. How could you explain it in a way he’d understand? “Beau, it can’t-…It can’t be you… It just can’t be. You with me on this one?”

“I’m with you.” His heart drowned in disappointment, but he gave you a promise nonetheless, telling you he’d let it rest for good. “Guess I got my answer…”

“Hood’s still warm,” Beau said, removing his palm from your car. It had taken him twelve minutes to race here, knowing he’d never be fast enough to stop it. Your vehicle was here, but you weren’t. “Her gun’s still here, too.”

“Found her phone. Door’s still locked. She never went inside,” Randy said, standing in front of the trailer. “No signs of blood, though.”

“He probably took her somewhere else,” Beau mused, his gut telling him the exact place.

“One of those bunkers?”

“Would be my guess, yeah,” Beau confirmed and rubbed his beard. Everything inside him tried to keep calm, tried not to panic, even though his head was booming and his heart was exploding with worry.

“Why would she leave her phone here? Maybe there’s something on here,” Randy said and proceeded to type in your passcode. Only it wasn’t yours anymore. “She changed it,” he realized with a swallow and found Beau’s eyes. “Do you-, uhm…”

“Yeah,” was all Beau said and proceeded to type in the correct code. Your phone unlocked, but that accomplishment surely came with a price, judging by Randy’s sulking expression. “Last call was to me. Says here her storage is full, but the video was still saved.”

“What video?”

As the men started the clip, they caught your entire conversation with Hal Turner – with his voice and face on tape. Turner held you at gun point before slowly leading you to a car and out of frame. The noise of a starting engine could be heard before it all falls silent and dark.

“Why would she record this? If she had taken it with her, we could’ve tracked it,” Randy said with a frown.

But Beau shook his head. “Turner would’ve probably dumped her phone somewhere before they ever even reached their destination. She didn’t think she’d make it out alive,” he realized bitterly. His heart grew heavier with every passing second. “She recorded it as evidence… in case he killed her.”

As soon as he uttered those words, everything fell into place. Everything made sense. And Beau wanted to break down right then and there.

If something happened to you…

Grabbing his phone, Beau called Jenny’s number. “Hoyt! Turner took her. They can’t be far. Lock everything down, you understand me? Get everybody out of the station and on the streets. Have forensics come by my trailer… Yeah, alright. I’ll meet you here.”

He ended the call with a strenuous exhale. Although he wanted to, he knew there wasn’t more he could do. Driving down roads, running aimlessly through the woods… He knew there was no way he could ever find you.

Unless he had help.

“We need to find her,” Randy stated the obvious.

“You think?!”

Beau wasn’t mad at Randy. He was angry with himself. If he hadn’t kicked you out this morning, you would’ve been by his side. You would’ve spent the day together. You would’ve come home together. He would’ve been here when you needed him.

“Stop yelling at me! You know I like to think out loud!”

Beau ground his jaw and rubbed his aching temples. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Look, I’m just worried.”

“And you think I ain’t?!”

“Randy–” Beau sighed loudly and stretched out the tension in his shoulders. “Let’s not turn this into some weird competition, alright? We’re both worried. End of story.”

Randy scoffed and rolled his eyes, defiantly crossing his arms over his jacket. “Whatever, man.”

“Look, if we’re gonna work this thing together, I think we need some ground rules. You with me on this one, buddy?”

“I ain’t your buddy.” Randy exhaled a long breath and pondered for a moment with a sour expression on his face. Eventually, he nodded his agreement. “But I’m with you. What did you have in mind?”

Bobbing his head, he thought for a second and scratched his jaw. “I don’t think we should talk about her.”

“She’s the one who’s missing. We’re trying to find her. I think we need to talk about her a little,” Randy argued, mostly out of spite.

But Beau was a patient man – sometimes. Another sigh passed his lips. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, you mean I’m not supposed to make you uncomfortable by asking questions like, ��Is Y/N’s passcode your guys’ anniversary date because she used to have our wedding anniversary as her code.’ Those kinda questions?” Randy asked mockingly.

“Uh-huh… That would be a stellar example of what I meant,” Beau said with a pressed smile. He knew this wouldn’t be easy by a long shot, but he was willing to try and make it work. “Second – no sulking.”

“I don’t sulk.”

“Yes, you do. I don’t wanna worry about you anytime my relationship with Y/N even remotely comes up. It happened. Get over it.”

“Get over it?!” Randy gasped. Granted, Beau knew he could’ve chosen better words. “You know, those rules start to sound a lot like just a list of things that are supposed to make you less uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, well…” Beau scratched the back of his neck. “You can add somethin’.”

A peace offering.

Randy nodded, accepting said offer. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine. Third rule: You’re not allowed to pretend you’re the only one who cares about her. She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.”

Beau’s jaw tightened. “Fine,” he gritted.

“Which brings me to my fourth rule: You’re not the boss of me. You ain’t my sheriff.” Randy smirked, provoking in nature. Beau could tell he was proud of that rule.

Beau chuckled humorlessly. “You know, Randy, technically, you’re not a cop anymore. You’re a civilian. In my county. So yeah, I am your sheriff.”

Randy only grinned in return. “Well, good thing you can deputize me.”

Beau let another sigh pass between his lips. “Fine,” he agreed to Randy’s terms. “So, that’s it? Four rules? We’re not talking about our relationship with her, I’m not gonna boss you around, and we’re good?”

“We’re good.” Randy gave him a nod. “What are we allowed to talk about, though?”

Beau shrugged. “The case? Small talk, maybe?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Another shrug. “Football?”

Randy shook his head. “Haven’t seen a single game in three years.”

“Right.” Beau hadn’t thought of that. “Politics?”

Another head shake. “Haven’t seen the news either.”

“Uh-huh…” Then, an idea hit Beau. “You know what? That might not actually be the worst. Why don’t you ask me some stuff and I fill you in on what happened over the last few years, huh? Texans, Cowboys, Musk… Anything you wanna know, I’m an open book. Just ask away, man. Anything.”

Randy contemplated the suggestion for a beat. Then a smile rose on his lips and spread to his ears. Beau didn’t like it one bit.

“Alright… How’s Carla doing?”

Chapter 12: Through

Welp, let's end it here on a funny note and forget about all the drama of being kidnapped 😂

Posting will resume in the new year with the final two chapters, so stay tuned and happy holidays to you guys! ❤️🎄🥳🥂

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[twilightmalachite]

Esu Sagiri - Idol Story 2

Author: Akira

Characters: Esu, Subaru

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching… You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Cemetery

Second year of ES’ establishment. At a secret cemetery somewhere in Tokyo…

Subaru: (Dad.)

(I’m sorry I visited you so late this year as well.)

(I’m getting busier and busier year after year, you know? Although in Trickstar’s case, it’s more like there’s no leisure for the poor...)

(You wouldn't angry at that, would you though, Dad? ‘Cause you were much busier than I was, day in and day out.)

(Nothing could be done about that, though. You were a super idol who carried the industry on his shoulders, after all.)

(You never gave up, though. You never complained, and on holidays you would even be sure to come back home with a smile on your face just to make your family happy.)

(You sure are amazing, Dad. I’ve always admired you. And I’m now in the same position as you—I’ve become an idol.)

(As time passes, I’ve slowly realized more and more just how amazing a person you were.)

(It made me happy. It made me happy to be able to understand you, Dad.)

(Hey, Dad, I wonder if I’ve become an idol worthy of your praise.)

(If possible, I’d like to have you say “Wow, you’re amazing, Subaru!” if you were alive.)

(And I wish you could ruffle up my hair like I was a dog, just like you used to too, but…)

Esu: NwaaAAAAAAH!?

(thunk)

Subaru: …?

Hmm? Umm, are… you okay…?

Esu: Ah, It's okay, do not mind me! My arms are just outta shape, as it’s been a while since I’ve climbed! I bit off more than I could chew!

I took a dangerous route to get away from this creepy guy, and accidentally slipped from somewhere high—

Esu: —Wait, you’re Akehoshi SubaruuUUU!

Subaru: Yup. Huh, are you a fan of mine?

(This isn’t good. I didn’t really want my fans to know where my dad’s grave was.)

(Although his reputation’s been restored to an extent, there’s still a lot of anti-fans who believe those rumors and consider him the worst idol ever…)

(I don’t want that. What if his grave gets vandalized or something?)

Esu: Oh, no no! It’d be presumptuous for someone like myself to call myself a fan!

Presem… Presim, prisum… Huh, is “presumptuous” correct?!

Subaru: Yep, that’s it.

Esu: Was I right? Got it! Good, good, hip-hooray! I mean, that was very kind of you! This debt of gratitude will not be forgotten even if I am reborn seventeen times over!

Subaru: Seventeen times over, huh? What’s with that oddly specific number?

You’re a strange kid.

Esu: Huh, you think so? I find myself to be normal, though! Maybe I’ve become a little out of touch with the world after having been cooped up for a while?

If I do anything that feels off, do feel free to point anything out! I’ll correct it!

Subaru: Alright. Well to start, it’s looked down upon to cause a ruckus at gravesites.

Esu: You’re right~! My bad! I’ll quiet down! I’m a man who has often been told “You’re so cute when you keep your mouth shut, Esu-kun!” by his inconsiderate classmates!

Subaru: So your name’s Esu, huh?

Esu: Yes! I am Sagiri Esu! My name’s pretty tough to read, or excessively sparkly rather, so it’s okay if you don’t remember all of it![1]

You’re free to just call me something like “Ecchan” or “Sacchan”!

Subaru: Ecchan reminds me of Eichi-senpai. Sagiri—I feel like I might’ve heard “Sagiri” somewhere before…

Esu: Oh, so you recognize it? My father used to be real popular! He was even called a super idol at a point!

Subaru: Ah, that’s right! There was a super idol who showed up sometime between the times of Hokke~Papa—Hidaka Seiya-san and my dad, right?

His name was Sagiri. My dad said that he looked up to him, so I remember.

Esu: Ahaha~, although it was all downhill for him once the next super idol, Akehoshi-senpai’s father, made his appearance.

Subaru: Well, my dad did become the talk of the town for many things, both good and bad… Those from around that time aren’t talked about as much anymore, with Hokke~Papa being an exception.

It’s like it’s all been balled together as a dark past to be forgotten, thanks to all that’s happened.

So I dunno how things are now, but, umm you—Sacchan, what’s your father doing now?

He’s not active anymore… right? I feel I’d know about him if he were active.

Esu: Oh, my father died.

Subaru: …Is that so? Sorry, I didn’t know…

Esu: Nah, if you didn’t know, you didn’t know! He passed away three years ago, and by the time he’d already turned over a new leaf as just an ordinary man.

Just an ordinary man, just with a bit of a nice-looking face.

Could at least look ugly… Wouldn't have to be followed around by that pervert then…

Subaru: Pervert? Had your father been targeted by some weird stalker or something, like mine was…?

Esu: No, no, this pervert has nothing to do with my father’s death. Sorry if I’m being difficult to follow! My communication skills aren’t all too great, after all! Just terrible!

My father died in a plane accident. Just a common—well, it’s not common, but an ordinary accident with nothing to do with idols or anything like that.

I was involved in the accident too, and although I managed to survive, I’ve been in the hospital up until recently. So, I've been in the process of rehabilitation for about six months, as of now.

Subaru: Is that so… I probably wouldn’t have even known three years ago. In the period before I entered high school, I would shut myself away from any and all information.

All of the information that would drift my way… I wouldn’t wanna hear any of it.

Esu: I totally get you~. It feels like anything and everything is an attack on you when your heart is weak, doesn’t it?

Even though nobody in the world probably spares a single thought about you.

Ah, but you’re an idol, Akehoshi-senpai, so tons and tons of people pay attention to you, of course! I was really moved by the SS from two years back![2]

It was like—and sorry if this sounds disrespectful—but your father also passed away… I felt like I could relate with you in some ways.

Like, “Ahh, this person, he’s me.”

Subaru: … …

Esu: At the time, I understood the expression on your face, your voice, everything, as if they were my own—I empathized! I was no longer able to distinguish between you and I!

I was in the hospital, lying in bed watching your performance, and I cried so hard that even the nurses became seriously worried about me.

Esu: Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching…

You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai. So, I thought you were real amazing—

Esu: Ahh, I can’t find the right words! Hang in there, my vocabulary!

Subaru: It’s okay. I understand you.

Thank you. For watching my performance.

You cried in place of me, didn’t you? Maybe that’s why I didn’t have to show a shameful sight like that upon such an important stage.

So… I know it sounds weird, but thank you. Really.

Esu: Oh no no, I seriously didn’t do anything! I don’t know what to do being shown gratitude like this?!

Oh, shoot!? I hear Fuyume’s voice! He hates exercise and isn’t all that good at it either, but caught up to me through sheer determination…!

I-I’m so sorry, but I gotta go now! It’s over for me if I’m caught!

Subaru: It kinda feels like you’re in danger… Do you need me to hide you?

Esu: Ah, that’s very kind of you, but I’m alright! This is a problem I gotta resolve on my own…!

But if you’d like, do offer some incense at the grave over there, the one decorated with cutesy goods.

That one’s my father’s grave.

Subaru: Right. This cemetery is for those in the industry that need to be kept secret from the general public. Both your father and my dad rest here.

It was through some sort of fate I was able to meet you, and hear your words that made me happy, so… Yeah, I’ll be sure to offer some incense.

Esu: Thanks! I’m sure our fathers are happy too! It doesn’t seem like they were on good terms when they were alive, but everyone becomes a Buddha when they die, right?[3]

I’m sure all those concerns and karma have been thoroughly purified!

—Eek, his voice is getting closer! Maaan, I wanted to have a nice and quiet visit to his grave after all this time!

But, well, I also caused a ruckus for no reason, and disturbed Akehoshi-senpai’s visit to his grave! That makes it sort of a mutual karmic retribution, right!—kinda?

Subaru: It’s fine. My dad always liked it when things were lively.

I’m sure he’s standing beside your father, watching over with a smile on their faces—over us.

[ ☆ ]

story directory

A sparkly name (キラキラネーム) is a term that refers to a recent phenomenon of giving names that are over-extravagant and notably very difficult to read. Esu's name is written with the kanji 笑主, which is both very unrecognizable as a name (it uses the kanji for laugh/smile + the kanji for lord/master), the reading is also very unnatural. The phenomenon is similar to the one where people will name their babies stuff like "Mhackenzeigh" or "Lakynn". Since knowing that 笑主 is read as "Esu" doesn't come instinctively, it would be difficult to remember; hence Esu saying there's no need to remember it all.

Referring to the SS where Trickstar won, back in ! era. If you aren’t aware of what happens to Subaru and Trickstar during the event, I highly recommend reading SS - Friendship 14 until the end of the event story, else this entire scene won’t make as much sense.

Esu uses a lot of Buddhist terminology here. If you’re familiar with the idea of reaching enlightenment, once you reach enlightenment, you let go of all worldly possessions, realizations, attainments, and achievements. This is what is referred to when one becomes a Buddha.

[ticklishshenanigansau]

LaughterLand - Chapter 31: Wake Up

(story by Mod Secret, art by Mod Kitty)

"...Five...

…Four...

…Three...

…Two...

…One...

Awaken!"

There was the sound of a snap, it seemed to echo off into the distance. A bright white light shone down from above. Although Sans could tell his eyes were closed, the harsh light still stung his sockets. He felt so confused … what happened? Did he finally pass out from the stress?

He shifted his bones, trying to get a grip on where he was or what was happening. His entire body felt stiff and heavy, all the way down to his toes. As if he had been in this position for hours. But … that just couldn't be, could it? His eyelids felt insanely heavy, like he was going to need every metaphoric muscle in his face to open them. The blinding white light wasn't helping.

He didn't want to force himself to open his eyes, he was certain that he was still in the empty white void with all of its evil inhabitants. He didn't want to face anymore horrors, didn't want to know who would be looming over him next. Suddenly there came a voice, it was deep and familiar. It spoke slowly and gently from right above him.

"That's it, S-1, open your eyes."

S-1 … there was only one monster in the whole world who knew him by that name.

Sans slowly opened his eyes. As to be expected, the light was blinding and painful. He fluttered his eyelids rapidly trying to get used to the overbearing glow. Against the light, he saw a shadowy figure leaning over him. He felt the remains of anxiety starting to build up in his chest, but was immediately relieved upon recognizing who the shape belonged to. As he adjusted to the light, the image of Gaster manifested before him. He never once thought that he would be so glad to see the old skeleton. But in that moment, he would have thrown himself into his father's arms if he had the physical strength for it.

"G…. Gas … ter?" His voice was weak, but surprisingly, not hoarse or strained in anyway.

“S-1, what do you remember?” Gaster’s tone was low and urgent, Sans could tell that he needed answers immediately, but honestly so did he.

He blinked several more times, allowing the light to slowly reveal the world around him. At first only small objects came into view, a coat rack, a desk equipped with medical tools, pictures of bizarre-looking x-rays on the walls. Gaster immediately noticed Sans’s tired eyes slowly scanning the room.

“S-1, do you know where you are right now?” he pressed on.

It took several minutes and a lot of readjusting of his concentration. But after some much-needed deep breathing, Sans was finally able to recognize his surroundings. He was back in Gaster’s True Lab, back in the Underground, he was home!

“I…. I’m … home?” He almost couldn’t say it. The relief was so immeasurable that he could almost feel tears welling up in his sockets.

“Well, of course you’re home, where else would you be?” Gaster asked, his voice sounding confused, but candid.

He turned to pick up his stethoscope before moving to Sans’s right. Confusion still plagued the exhausted skeleton’s mind. He had no idea how he ended up back in the Underground, or what had happened to all of the evil residents of LaughterLand. The last thing he could recall was being bound by the sticky web, watching as they all moved closer towards him and his brother. He drew in a sharp gasp as he suddenly remembered.

“Papyrus!”

He sat up way too quickly. The dizziness hitting him like a hard slap in the face that nearly sent him toppling over again. He groaned loudly as he forced himself to stay upright, but cradled his now throbbing skull into his hands.

“S-1, I’d advise you not to sit up so carelessly.” Gaster responded calmly. “You’ve been in a state of unconsciousness for the past six hours. Give your body time to recover.”

Sans’s sockets flew wide open, in an instant he was wide awake and aware. Although he was certain that he had heard his creator loud and clear, he still had to make absolutely sure.

“S… Six … hours?” His voice was stronger this time.

Although his tone and demeanor seemed calm, the inside of his mind was flooded with racing thoughts and questions. He was unconscious for the past six hours? But how? Was the stress of being endlessly tickled for so long enough to make him pass out for that long? But then, how did he end up here? Did Gaster find a way to save them? What day was it? How long was he gone for? More importantly, where was Papyrus?

“Please find a way to calm yourself S-1,” Gaster cautioned, pulling back his stethoscope. “P-2 is fine, he’s just coming out of it now.”

At the mention of his brother’s experiment name, Sans whipped himself to the right where Gaster was standing over an unconscious Papyrus. He was twitching and whimpering too softly to make anything out. His brow was covered with a thin layer of sweat and he seemed to be trying to will himself out of this strange trance he was in. But he was okay! Alive, breathing, and in one piece. Sans nearly collapsed again from the relief, but kept his shaky arms firm as he tried to get up from the metal table.

“Papyrus!”

As Sans nearly launched himself from his resting place, he felt his unsteady knees immediately buckle beneath him, and he collapsed onto the floor with a heavy grunt.

“S-1, please get ahold of yourself,” Gaster said firmly, his tone raising to one of irritation. “You could very well give yourself a Soul-Attack if you don’t slow your reactions.”

Completely ignoring his father’s warning, Sans scrambled back to his trembling feet, gripping the side of the metal table that held Papyrus. As he watched his brother starting to shift out of sleep, he noticed that Papyrus’s favorite scarf was wrapped around his neck again, looking as if it had never even been moved. He glanced down to see his left glove was back on his hand as well. Somehow both of his accessories had been returned to him without so much as a speck of dirt or a tear. How was it possible?

Sans experimentally moved his hand down his shirt. Expecting to find the tear where the Chortlewocky had completely ripped it in half, but there was no tear. He looked down to see for himself, but sure enough his shirt was completely whole again. Not only that, his blue jacket had returned to him as well. Nothing about this made any sense. He knew that the both of them had lost their favorite articles of clothing in the tussle with the Tickle Monster. But even if they somehow managed to get them back, it didn’t explain how Papyrus’s glove returned from the dark abyss, or how Sans’s shirt became one piece again.

"Awaken."

Sans was so caught up in his own confusing thoughts that he didn't realize that Gaster had just finished counting backwards.

"Mmmnhh … uffmnh .... uhhhh…."

Papyrus's muffled whimpering became louder and louder, although neither skeleton could make out what he was trying to say.

"Deep breaths, P-2," Gaster quietly instructed. "Just open your eyes for me." Papyrus began to tremble, seemingly trying to force himself awake. "That's it, nice and easy," Gaster compelled.

Suddenly, Papyrus's eye sockets flew wide open. For a moment, the entire room was silent. But just as quickly as the quiet began, it was abruptly cut off as Papyrus let out an ear-piercing scream.

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!"

This immediately prompted a scream from the older skeletons until the entire lab became an impromptu screaming match. Papyrus, now startled out of his mind, sat up too quickly. As a violent rush of dizziness overtook him, he tumbled off of the metal table and landed to the ground with a heavy crash, abruptly ending the screaming match.

"Owwwie…," Papyrus quietly moaned, reaching a hand up to rub at his tender skull.

"Pap!!"

Sans immediately rushed to his brother's side. He nearly tumbled over himself, still not having fully regained his balance. But thankfully, he didn't have very far to go before kneeling down next to Papyrus.

"Ohhh, my head." Papyrus sighed deeply, trying to shake himself awake as well as readjust to the light.

"It's okay, Pap. I'm here, we're safe," Sans soothed, gently placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"S…. Sans...?" With sockets still partially shut, Papyrus reached a trembling hand up to grasp at Sans's. Comforted to at least know that his big brother was there with him. "What … happened?"

"You just snapped out of a six-hour trance," Gaster explained calmly. "You need to slow down and relax, P-2. Your body needs time to readjust to the—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Backup a minute." Sans held up a hand to his creator, his mind trying to make sense of what he just said. "What do you mean, a … trance?"

"S-1, do you not recall why it is you were called here this afternoon?"

Gaster looked at his sons quizzically, studying their faces to take note of their reactions. Both brothers looked at him, then at each other. Everything was fuzzy, they were having a hard time remembering just when they had come down to the lab in the first place. All that filled their minds were the colorful memories of that place … Laughterland. The bright unnatural colors, the extraordinary creatures and plants. But most of all … the horrifying enemies that they left behind, and all the different ways they nearly tickled them to death.

"Fascinating…," Gaster mumbled as he scribbled something onto his clipboard. "Apparently, the lingering effects cause a temporary lapse in memory."

"Okay, look," Sans replied bluntly. "We appreciate you pulling us out of that … colorful world of tickling hell. But … how exactly did you find us?"

Gaster's expression shifted to one of utter confusion.

"Find you?" he repeated, sounding perplexed. "What are you talking about? You never left."

"Yes we did!" Papyrus answered loudly. "We were taken away to this … this AWFUL place where the monsters, the animals and … even the PLANTS tickled us past the brink of insanity!"

He couldn't help but shout. Fear increasing the pitch in his voice as he recalled the dreadful events that took place in that world. He became so excited that he began stumbling over his words as he spoke.

"And—And we tried so hard to get back home … but we kept falling into more and more traps! And—And there was this spider, and this—these Ghost Children—oh! And the cat! The CAT! He was the worst!"

Papyrus was beginning to sound less like he had just woken from a trance and more like an over-active child who had just gotten into too much sugar. Sans firmly placed both hands on his brother's shoulders in an effort to calm him down.

"Whoa! Easy, Pap, it's okay. You're okay." He tried not to raise his voice too loudly over Papyrus's, but he somehow managed to put a gentle stop to his brother's mad rambling. "We're safe now, bro. They're not gonna find us here."

Gaster's jaw dropped, the brothers looked up as they heard him draw in an astonished breath.

"You mean … S-1 … you've had the same visions as him?"

Sans shot Gaster a dumbfounded expression. What exactly did he mean by ‘visions’?

"Yes?" he questioned, unsure of how to properly respond.

Gaster immediately turned back to his desk to flip through a series of notes. He scrambled for a pen to frantically add to them.

"Amazing!" he gasped quietly. "Somehow, the hypnosis allowed the two of you to venture into the exact same dream! But just how? I have no idea, somehow the sound waves intermixed within the—"

"Wait!" Sans again silenced his father's scientific mumbling. As he put the pieces together, he suddenly felt a warm tingling of a blue blush appear on his cheeks. "Hypnosis…. You mean … all this time…."

A red-hot mixture of embarrassment, amazement, and rage flashed through his mind. He suddenly remembered it all. He and his brother were part of another one of Gaster's insane experiments. They never left the Underground, they never even left the lab! There was no Cheshire Cat, no sentient flowers or feather-vines, no Tickle Monster or Witch or Ghost Children. There was no LaughterLand.

"You mean you just had us under a trance??" Papyrus finally caught up to Sans's realization. "The entire time?!"

"Well I certainly didn't expect you to sleep for that long, P-2," Gaster responded frankly. "The initial experiment was to see if a simple hypnotic suggestion would heighten one's sensitivity in … certain aspects."

"Their TICKLISHNESS by chance?!" This time Sans spat the word out through gritted teeth, he no longer cared.

"Well … yes." Gaster shifted his glance away, seemingly embarrassed to admit it. He cleared his throat authoritatively. "Well, I mean, I wasn't going to subject you to an endless sensation of pain or discomfort. An increase of ticklishness was ultimately the more harmless option."

"HARMLESS?!" Papyrus shrieked, nearly falling over a second time as he slapped his hands to his skull.

"I tried countless remedies to try and wake the two of you up," Gaster continued on as if he had not heard his youngest scream at the top of his lungs. He fumbled through his notes trying to remember his many failed remedies. "Splashing you with cold water, dousing your nasal cavities with pepper. Shaking you, wrapping you up with tight sheets. Laughing gas, herbal aromas, light deprivation. I tried this strange concoction of caffeinated beverages. Nothing was working."

As Gaster recounted all of his missteps, the brothers were hit with flashback after flashback of every crazy misadventure that their dreamt up journey had taken them. From the flash flood, to the fairies' tickle dust. The crazy cloud-ride, the snakes' binding coils. The botched magic spell, the flower's poisonous pollen. The dark cave, Dropwart's disgusting potion. All of it seemingly triggered by Gaster's meddling with their subconscious.

The more Sans realized what the old skeleton had put him and his brother through, the more unbridled fury burned in his Soul. His old man seriously had no idea the amount of stress, panic and torture he had caused them both, and it infuriated him.

"Who knew that the simple act of counting backwards from ten was enough to snap a monster out of a six-hour trance?" he mumbled to himself. "You two certainly didn't make it easy. You somehow managed to conjure up bone constructs in your sleep — and teleport, of all things."

That's when Sans finally remembered. Stopping for a moment to feel the pulsations of his Soul, he realized that it was once again filled to the brim with magic. Experimentally, he summoned a small bone construct to appear at his fingertips. It manifested so easily. There was no strain or exhaustion, but instead an immediate warmth and satisfaction in his Soul. Feeling the magic replenishing itself again, just like it was always meant to.

His attention immediately went back to Gaster, the arrogant old skeleton still yammering on about the curiosities of his experiment. Still harboring a need for vengeance, Sans's eye began to glow as he summoned a large Blaster, pointing it right at his creator. Papyrus covered his mouth as he let out a squeaky gasp, prompting Gaster to turn around facing down the snout of Sans's weapon.

"Sans, what are you doing?" His tone was dry and deadpanned. He stared at Sans with a look of apathy.

"Do. You. Have. ANY IDEA WHAT YOU JUST PUT US THROUGH, OLD MAN?!"

Sans growled with a sense of rage that was beyond abnormal for his usual laid-back demeanor.

Rolling his eyes, Gaster placed a hand on the snout of the Blaster. It immediately vanished into thin air with an electrical shock that literally jolted Sans back to reality. Stunned by the sudden zap, Sans was blasted straight back onto his tailbone with a loud THUD!

"Oww!" He sat up rubbing the harsh tingles out of his hand.

"Sans! Are you okay?" Papyrus immediately got up to go comfort him. But was swiftly reminded of his unsteadiness, and slowed himself down once he got to his feet.

"You completely forgot that I constructed those powers for you, didn't you?" Gaster asked curtly. "They're called 'Gaster-Blasters', Sans, you might want to come up with a different way of letting off steam."

Sans glared bitterly up at Gaster, keeping his low and gravelly tone as he responded.

"You almost killed us back there, G." He calmed down enough to avoid shouting, but was still very much angry over all the trouble his father had caused. "We may have been asleep as far as you could tell, but that place was WAY too real to the both of us."

"Yeah." Papyrus nodded with a heavy sigh. "Honestly, I can't believe how much I remember. Usually my dreams are relatively blurry, but I feel like I could retell the events of this one perfectly."

"Really?!"

Suddenly, Gaster's entire face lit up with intrigue. He turned and practically leapt back towards his desk fumbling mindlessly for a notebook and pencil.

"Okay, just start from the beginning. Don't leave out any minor details, even the most insignificant ones." He practically leaned into Papyrus with his pencil steadily placed on the paper, ready for note-taking.

"Oh, come on, G!" Sans rubbed two fingers against the top of his nasal cavity sounding aggravated. "We just got out of this nightmare, nobody wants to talk about—"

"Well, when we got there, there was nothing but white," Papyrus jumped into the beginning of the story, seemingly not having heard Sans's complaint.

"Papyrus…," Sans grumbled.

"I mean, there was just white everywhere, white sky, white ground, everything!"

Papyrus continued as Gaster feverishly took down notes. Too tired to put up with it anymore, Sans grabbed ahold of Papyrus's scarf to begin dragging him out of the lab. Although clearly on their way out the door, Papyrus didn't stop retelling the story, not leaving out a single detail just as Gaster had requested, and never even pausing to realize that his brother was pulling him into the elevator.

Gaster followed them every step of the way, seemingly oblivious to what his older son was doing as he jotted down every word from Papyrus. The elevator ride seemed so much longer to Sans as he just stood there listening to his brother ramble on about the Ghost Children and the chase into the forest. By the time the elevator had taken them to the top floor, Papyrus was just beginning to describe the ferocity of a feather-vine. As Gaster followed them right to the door, Sans practically shoved his brother outside, cutting off his dramatic retelling. He faced Gaster down with the same deadpanned expression he had when he first entered the lab earlier that day.

"Well, G, what can I say?" He talked as if he were in a rush. "It's been … a nightmare. A literal living nightmare so … y'know, don't be in a hurry for the next 'family reunion' okay?"

"Wait!" Gaster held up a hand to stop Sans from closing the door. For a moment, Sans paused, giving his father one last chance to say a proper goodbye. "Could we…."

Gaster also hesitated. He wasn't one to truly speak about what he was feeling. But Sans could already tell that he was still anxious to know and understand what went on during this extraordinary trance. At the sight of his loss for words, Sans took in a breath.

"Look," he began. "Next week, okay?" he practically mumbled. As much as he didn't want to give Gaster any more of his time, he could tell how important this discovery was to him. Beyond that, there was a part of Sans that didn't want everything that he and his brother had gone through to be for nothing.

"No experiments, no tables or lab tools. You bring the coffee, I'll bring the ketchup. We'll sit down and tell you everything, okay?" Sans looked him in the eyes, making sure the old skeleton understood the terms to this agreement. There was a lightness in Gaster's face, as if Sans had just laid out everything he was hoping for.

"Alright." He nodded, allowing Sans to peacefully exit the lab. "Thank you, Sans."

He cleared his throat, returning once again to his professional monotone acknowledging his sons as they left. Sans gave a light scoff as he closed the door.

"Later, G," he mumbled.

He knew that was going to be the closest thing to an apology that either of them were going to get from him. Refusing to let it get to him, he and Papyrus headed back to the River Person to catch the first boat ride back to Snowdin.

For the majority of the trip, they were quiet. Besides letting the overall shock and disbelief of what had just happened to them sink in, they were content with just sitting there and absorbing the cool silence in overcoming such an ordeal. The soft mist whipping up from the water felt soothing on their faces, and the gentle splash of the waves was more than just comforting ambiance.

As they were less than a minute from home, Sans turned back to Papyrus. Somehow, his brother's face looked to be an odd mixture of relaxed and exhausted. He could only imagine that he looked the same way, if not worse. Their bodies had told them that they had been sleeping for most of the day, but their minds were insistent that they go home to recover some actual sleep. Papyrus turned to meet his brother's gaze, he gave him a sleepy smile as well as a deep sigh.

"What's on your mind, bro?" Sans asked gently.

"I just…." Papyrus shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe we were gone for only six hours."

"Yeah," Sans scoffed lightly. "Feels like we've been gone for a month."

Papyrus stifled a chuckle in reply. "What about you?" he offered. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking...." Sans stretched out his arms to rest behind his head. It felt good to stretch out without fear of someone going after his underarms. "...I'm thinking that I'm gonna need to 'ketchup' with Grillby for dinner tonight," he joked, though at this moment nothing sounded better to him than a fresh bottle of Grillby's delicious ketchup.

"Ugh, really, Sans? Grillby's?" Papyrus groaned, though he smiled to know that Sans was still his lazy old ketchup-loving self.

"Yeah," Sans sighed happily. "Heh, don't worry bro. I'll get one for the road." Papyrus shook his head as the boat came up to the snowy shore, somehow he doubted that Grillby was just going to let Sans walk away with a full ketchup bottle.

"Come again sometime, tra la la," trilled the voice of the River Person.

Sans and Papyrus stepped off the boat and into the crunchy snow. The chilly sight of Snowdin had never before looked so welcoming. Most of the town's residents had gone inside already, all except for the usuals who were known for hanging around Grillby's establishment in the later hours of the day.

"Heh, guess it's a little later than I thought…." Sans sighed deeply at the warm sight of his favorite eatery.

He turned to Papyrus. Both wore a weary but content smile, happy to finally be home and out of danger. Their own cozy little spot in the Underground, chilly and cramped, but home nonetheless.

"So do you wanna head home and heat up some spaghetti or—"

Papyrus bent down to wrap Sans up in a tight hug, abruptly cutting him off. At first the older skeleton was taken aback by the fast movement, but immediately returned the hug, wrapping his arms around his brother tightly.

"I know it wasn't real," Papyrus said quietly. "But it still means so much that … even in dream form … I can always count on you."

Sans smiled warmly. He felt a little foolish for already feeling the need to fight back tears, so he buried his face into his brother's scarf to try and blot them away before anyone could see. He hadn't forgotten all of the amazing things Papyrus had done for him in dream form either. He wished he had the words to tell him how proud he was of him, but exhaustion was fogging his mind. There almost wasn't a need anyways, Sans could tell just from the embrace alone that Papyrus understood.

"I love you, bro," he said quietly.

"I love you too, Sans," Papyrus replied.

He pulled away and wiped away a tear of his own. He couldn't help but chuckle with embarrassment as he noticed Sans staring at him.

"Heh heh! I-I don't know why I got so emotional back there, sorry," he admitted bashfully.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Sans replied. "A nightmare like that would upset anybody."

"Yeah just … don't tell Undyne I was crying over a nightmare, okay?" Papyrus, again, tried to hide the blush on his cheeks, eliciting an amused giggle from Sans.

"Oh, why not? Afraid she'll try to toughen you up with even more tickle attacks?" he teased.

"Sans!" Papyrus nearly shrieked. "Seriously, don't! I'll never hear the end of it!"

"Ohh, I don't knoooow," Sans taunted. "I think it'll be worth it just to tell her everything that you fought against in dreamland."

"No way!" Papyrus laughed despite himself.

"Oh yeah, I'm telling her alright!" Sans grinned as he shifted away from his brother trying to push him over. "I'll tell her about how you were caught by a bunch of giant flowers...."

"Sans quit it!" Papyrus leapt for Sans, trying to grab ahold of him to get him to stop talking.

"And about how you were caught by sparkly fairies…." Sans continued to playfully dance away from him. "And kissed to death by a bunch of fish...."

"Oh, that is SO IT!!"

Papyrus catapulted himself at Sans, they landed with a crash right into a big pile of snow. Papyrus pinned his brother down to the ground and began digging his fingers into his ribs.

"Take this, you big-mouth-brother!! Nyeh-heh-heh-heh!!"

"Aaaahahahahaha!! Pahahap nohohohohoho!! Papyrus!! Aagh!! Hahahaha!!" Sans laughed and flailed in the snow.

Papyrus gasped and immediately pulled back, allowing his brother to breathe. After several moments had passed, the two of them stared at each other in tense silence. They both could tell they were thinking the same thing. Was it too much, too soon? Were they actually traumatized by this bizarre nightmare that they shared. The guilty look on Papyrus's face made Sans's Soul sink. He didn't want Papyrus to feel bad for playing with him. He wasn't feeling scared or anxious or even powerless. In fact, it was safe to say that laughing because of playful brotherly tickle fights was all the therapy he needed to recover from this.

He gave Papyrus a reassuring smile. One that shifted his brother's expression to one of relief, then to happiness, then to mischief. Sans let out an impish growl as he dove for his brother, knocking him into the snow and tickling at his ribs.

"Nyaagh!! Ahahahaha!! Sahahahahans!! Heeheeheehee!!"

They wrestled around in the fluffy coolness. Practically taking turns pinning each other down to go after their worst spots. As they laughed and screamed like two rough-housing children in the snow, a deep euphoria washed over them. They missed the joy that this weird bonding activity had brought them. They missed the mirthful laughter that only the two of them could draw out of each other. But if this strange misadventure had taught them anything, it was that they had missed the trust that they had in each other. Not tickling each other for food, or for personal gain, or for anything harmful. Just doing it to hear the other one laughing, just to play and have fun with the other.

As the tickle fight came to an end, they laid breathlessly in the snow, taking in the peaceful silence. Sans brushed away another tear and chuckled.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah," Papyrus laughed in reply. He got to his feet and reached out a hand to help Sans off the ground. "Come on," he said as he pulled him to his feet.

"Let's get you that ketchup."

[devildom-moss]

Roses for You (9)

This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.

In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.

You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.

Will you be charmed by their attempts?

Nine Roses - Barbatos

Word Count: +1,500 (sorry. I think my bias is showing.)

Eternal love

“Hey, Barbatos, why did you want to see me today?” You stood at the door to the Demon Lord’s castle.

Barbatos chuckled and stepped aside to allow you in. “What would you say if I told you I simply wanted to see you?”

“I’d say, ‘I’m glad you invited me because I missed you, too.’”

You missed the brief widening of his smile. He was delighted by your response, but the thought of someone walking into the foyer and seeing him practically fawning over you caused him to suppress that joy.

“Actually,” Barbatos started with a hint of something between hesitation and musing. “I was finishing up a task that I believe you might enjoy. Would you like to try your hand at making a flower arrangement?”

“I don’t know if I’d be any good at it, but it sounds fun.”

“Excellent. Come with me to the garden.” Barbatos turned, hiding the sudden appearance of a grin, and led the way. Perfect, he thought. It was no coincidence that you “caught him” in the middle of this particular task. He had worked hard to complete his necessary duties ahead of time so that he could spend the entire afternoon with you. This last task had been postponed until you were on your way with the hope that it would spark your interest – with the expectation that his plan would come to fruition. “I have a table set up in the garden where I was previously making arrangements. The flowers around the castle required refreshing. Although, as you can see, I’ve already completed a few.”

There was a vase slightly ahead of you on a table in the hall. You recognized the purple basil and black calla lilies, but there was something else in the arrangement – some alien- or Devildom-looking plant. It was a large dark reddish-brown, almost black, with petals that resembled wings – some pointed, demonic version of an orchid. Even stranger were the long, whisker-like tendrils that jutted out from the center. You’d never seen anything like it. “What type of flower is that?”

“I take it you mean the black bat flower?” Barbatos hummed and stopped in front of the vase.

“Is it native to the Devildom? It’s incredible. I half-expected it to growl at me as we walked by.”

“No, my dear,” Barbatos chuckled. “This plant is from the human world, but it tolerates Devildom conditions quite well; in fact, it flourishes here – much like yourself. I’ve heard about your recent interest in flower meanings, would you happen to have learned about any of these?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s the same for purple basil, but basil is usually a symbol of love, right?”

“It is now, although I’ve read that it once symbolized hatred. It was said to drive men insane. What an interesting turn of events. Both the calla lilies and the bat flower symbolize transformation, strength, and mystery. However, the black calla lily has a rather unique association.” Barbatos paused and turned to face you. His tail wrapped around the back of your thighs and pulled you closer to him. He held your gaze seductively and spoke, slow and heavy: “forbidden love.”

Barbatos had brought you here on purpose – both to see that particular arrangement and because the hall was quiet and not prone to foot traffic. He gave you a gentle smile that smothered the spark of heat you had felt in his eyes.

You found yourself searching for something to say – to cut the charged tension in a still-very-public part of the castle. “It’s a beautiful arrangement, Barbatos.”

Barbatos chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, dear, I lost myself momentarily. Shall we continue to the garden?”

He didn’t wait for a response before he turned and began to walk. You immediately felt his tail drop and encircle one of your calves, pulling you along with him.

The table Barbatos had set up in the garden was filled with a variety of flowers. You could see that he had nearly completed another arrangement before you had arrived. Barbatos added a few more hell roses and a sprig of black grass before he wrapped it carefully. “I’m going to place this in an empty vase. You’re welcome to use whatever you’d like to create your arrangement.”

“Will you display it in the castle when I’m done?”

“I’d like to, yes – if you don’t mind.”

You grinned to yourself as Barbatos walked away. The thought of Barbatos looking at an arrangement you made throughout the week as he went about his duties left you nervous but eager to please. Instinctively, you reached for a blue anemone. Sure, you probably should have considered what would suit the castle and the potential surrounding décor, but all you could think about was Barbatos. You added a few purple hyacinths, and cursed baby blue eyes, rotating the placement of each selection, but you felt that something was missing. The pale blue glow of hell jasmine called to you. Strange; the scent of hell jasmine was said to make a demon extremely needy. Why would Barbatos want to display these in the castle? That seems a bit dangerous. However, on closer inspection, the scent had been hampered significantly compared to other times you had run into this plant.

“Let me guess,” Barbatos spoke up as he returned to the garden. “You’re wondering if that hell jasmine has had an effect on me today?”

“Sort of.”

“Worry not. This variety has been modified. Its scent has no power over me. That honor is all yours today. It’s perfectly safe to use in your arrangement.”

“Oh!” You felt the heat rise in your face. You weren’t sure you believed him with all his sweet-talking. But that didn’t matter. If the hell jasmine was safe to use, it would make for the perfect final touch. You wanted to surprise Barbatos with your creative decisions. “Close your eyes, please.”

“As you wish.” Barbatos made no attempt to get closer and shut his eyes. You finished your arrangement and brought it to Barbatos, holding it out to him like an offering.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.” You watched as a look of pleasant surprise was sketched on Barbatos’s face. The smile on his lips filled you with an unfamiliar pride – so warm and encompassing as if you had performed a miracle. There was no restraint in that smile. “I made it with you in mind.”

“Oh my.” Barbatos brought the knuckle of his index finger to his mouth. “I beg your pardon, but would you indulge my selfishness and put your arrangement in my room? There’s an empty vase on the table near the door.”

“You want to display it in your room?”

“I would feel better knowing something so thoughtfully crafted by you was in my room. I’m afraid I would feel quite jealous allowing someone else to admire it. That is, I want the sole joy of seeing it and thinking of you each day. Is that okay?”

“Are you certain the hell jasmine has had no effect on you?” You looked at him suspiciously as if that would distract from the way he flustered you.

“I’m afraid not. This seems to be a consequence of thinking about you so much today. Now, will you do me a favor and deliver those to my room? I believe you’re adept at finding my room on your own by now,” Barbatos added a seductive tinge to the last sentence. He turned you towards the entrance and gave you a gentle nudge. The warmth of his hand lingered as you headed to his room.

When you returned, Barbatos was carefully wrapping a bouquet of blue roses and darkness thyme – likely both of which were cultivated by Barbatos. It was simple, but the blue roses were stunning, and their rarity was only complemented by an equally rare herb. Barbatos tied a silky blue bow around the bouquet and held it out to you with both hands – an oddly elegant gesture.

“Where would you like me to put these?” you asked.

“No, my dear, these are for you.”

Your eyes widened and you took a closer look at the bouquet. Nine blue roses. Nine was for a timeless, eternal love. Blue roses signified mystery and uniqueness, but they could also mean something unattainable or impossible. You frowned. “Eternal love is impossible?”

Sure, maybe Barbatos wouldn’t love you forever, but that message seemed a bit cruel.

“Not quite.” Barbatos laughed at you softly. Had his laugh not been so sweet, you might have been upset. “Blue may represent the impossible, but here it is – a dream come true. If I can be so bold, you are a dream come true – the only one I could adore like this for all of time.”

The frown fell from your face, and you were left with shock and shyness. Something must have gotten into him today. In truth, the thought of the others giving you roses only encouraged Barbatos to charm you as much as he could, and that meant he would need to bare his heart to you. Barbatos pulled you in close and kissed you with a sweetness that matched his words.

“For a demon such as myself, eternal love is a rather serious proposal; will you still accept it?” His thumb ran across your lower lip.

“That would be a dream come true.” It was your turn to kiss and fluster him now. Hopefully none of the little D.s would go into the garden that afternoon.

Lucifer (1) | Mammon (2) | Leviathan (3) | Satan (4) | Asmodeus (5) | Beelzebub (6) | Belphegor (7) | Diavolo (8) | Luke (10) | Simeon (11) | Solomon (12) | Thirteen (13) | Raphael (14) | Mephistopheles (15)

[throneofsapphics]

could you do one with feysand x reader and reader’s like very feisty in public and she’s ruthless in the nightcourt but when they’re alone she’s like so submissive to them and it sometimes surprises them.😋

and i wanted to say that you literally are one of the few blogs i genuinely love, i have ur notifications on and literally click so fast whenever you post. You’re so talanted, literally love u❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

just for them 

poly!Feysand x f!Reader

Summary: Feyre and Rhys loved seeing you like this. All sweet and pliant, just for them. Completely opposite to you in the Court of Nightmares 

Warnings: smut, d/s dynamics, light bondage, non-sexual submission (sort of), minors dni please!

A/N: ahh thank you so much, i cry when people say nice things to me, i love you! I’ve never written them before so I’m not sure if I got the vibe right but I tried I promise

You rolled your eyes when a male laid a hand on your shoulder. Rhys, noticed immediately, of course. “I can handle this,” you said, through that channel he always keeps open. Amusement fluttered through, but his bored expression didn’t change. 

You clasped your opposite hand over his wrist, and twisted enough till you heard a few bones crack. 

His mouth opened, likely to spit out some vile curse, but you spoke first. “I’d keep those words to yourself, if you’d like to keep your tongue.” Your voice was sweet, but a wicked smile crossed your face as you dropped his arm. 

“You can’t -” He started to speak, but found himself dragged - not by any person, likely by Feyre’s powers, up in front of their thrones. 

“I said I could handle it.” You hissed into her mind. 

“Not to me.” 

“Care to finish that sentence?” She purred, as the entire room froze. Maybe this was their way of staking a claim on you. Again. Sometimes those people seemed to forget. The male did end up walking away, with a wrist that looked worse than how you left it, but his tongue still intact. Feyre surely could sense your annoyance, but she seemed very pleased with herself. 

-

“Look how good you are for us,” Feyre’s hand stroked your head, circling around where you knelt, palms flat on your thighs, eyes downcast. Her hand gently fisted the back of your hair, tilting your head up to meet her eyes. Rhys sat on the edge of the bed, forearms pressed against his thighs, head propped on interlocked fingers. 

“Would you rather me be bad?” 

“No.” Rhys answered quickly and firmly, his voice darkening slightly. Feyre tilted her head so you’d look right at him. “We like you just as you are,” he purred, “trust me, you won’t like the punishment if you act out.”

You remember vividly the one time you had that sort of punishment, and were not keen on reliving the experience. Rhys, who usually liked to make you finish over and over again, edged you for an entire week, not even Feyre gave you mercy. Besides, you liked submitting to them. There was a freedom in it. Something you couldn’t quite explain. And they enjoyed it too, a big bonus. Well, you wondered if it would have worked otherwise, if you’d been too different .. you felt a gentle tap at your mental barriers, recognizing it as Rhys’s. 

Normally you wouldn’t put them up, not around them. 

His two fingers curled, gesturing for you to come closer, you pictured them curled inside you, your body writhing as he - you blocked the image out and ignored the smirk on the male’s face. 

You pressed up on your knees, starting to rise to your feet, but a gentle hand pushed you back down. Feyre crouched behind you, her hands running feather light strokes down your arms. “Crawl to him.” She whispered, giving your shoulders a gentle push, and you did. You kept your eyes trained on him the entire time, watching them flicker with approval and arousal. 

The soft carpet brushed under your hands and knees, although he was only a few paces away, time seemed to slow as you made your way over. Crawl to him. Those words lit something inside you. 

His legs parted, making room for you to settle between, one hand guided your head to rest against his knee, and you happily did, letting your cheek press into the warmth of his body, through his trousers. A snap of his fingers and your clothes disappeared. You jumped as a cool breeze fluttered across your body, pebbling your nipples and putting you on edge. Rhys’s hand kept your cheek pressed firmly against him. “Don’t put those walls up,” he murmured, “I want to hear every little thought in that pretty mind of yours. Relax.” 

You did, letting your thoughts drift past, keeping a vague awareness of the sensations around you, and knew he and Feyre were talking court business. As much as you occasionally enjoyed the court of nightmares - when they let you accompany them, the politics behind it - that you despised. Your body tensed slightly, thinking of that male’s hand against your shoulder … "relax", his smooth voice flowed through your mind and you refocused your efforts, letting yourself melt into your surroundings. His fingers combed through your hair, gently loosening the slight tangles as he went. The gesture was absent-minded, natural, and you found yourself leaning into it, matching your breathing as the world slipped away. 

A thumb pressed under your chin, drawing your attention back up, your head angled slightly to the side. Feyre had a smile on her face, “how do you feel, love?” 

“Good.” You murmured, eyes a bit glazed over. 

-

Feyre and Rhys loved seeing you like this. All sweet and pliant, just for them. Completely opposite to you in the Court of Nightmares. Of course, it surprised them at first, but they quickly found themselves loving each version. 

Feyre’s hand slid back, gripping the soft skin of the back of your neck lightly. That small change was just enough that she scented your arousal rising, watching your breaths quicken. Those pretty eyes started to glaze over with lust. 

With one thought, Feyre’s clothes disappeared and Rhys chuckled as she dragged you between her legs instead. 

-

You knew exactly what she wanted, and eagerly leaned in, kissing the soft skin of her inner thighs, testing Feyre’s patience enough until she groaned, pushing your head in further. Perfectly for you to give small, gentle licks up her folds. The taste of her was addicting, and you let out a small moan. You knew exactly what she liked, but before you could bring your hands up, threads of magic bound them behind your back. You fought back a whine, focusing your attention on Feyre’s clit instead as she rained praises down on you. Her fingers gripped your hair as her thighs began to clench around your head. 

Through your eyelashes, you watched her throw her head back, bracing one hand on the bed behind her as the other held your head firmly in place. 

“Gods, y/n,” you could barely hear her, “such a good girl, putting that pretty little mouth to use.” 

Your arousal grew and grew, enough you could be leaving an embarrassing wet spot on the carpet. 

Her breathing steadied out, but you had no time to recover as strong arms threw you on the bed, the binds on your hands disappearing, only to reappear, binding your wrists above your lead. 

Long fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing lightly. Not hard enough to cut off any airflow, but just enough for you to feel the pressure. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Rhys breathed, lips grazing your ear as his hand trailed down your body. “You. in our bed. All ready and perfect for us to use. That’s what you want, isn’t it darling?” 

[inkyearnings]

and the boy down the street, from my youth, sold his soul to the devil so he could see it all.

i wasn’t very bright at that age, and wondered why he needed to see more when his eyes were like oiled wood at sunset, and his sharp tooth that stuck out inspired me charm. you didn’t need to see more when you saw it all here and it was beautiful, right?

my neighbours worried that he had brought a curse upon the town, but after a few weeks, a few rains and a few storms, few still cared or discussed about the boy down the street. i was too young to understand or watch how his parents wept for him, the notion far away from me and the notion never on my parents and friends’ lips.

“look what happened to the neighbours down the street,” my neighbour shook his head. he was trimming his hedge, as if his comments were merely an afterthought. “that kid was bad news from birth, i tell you.”

i hadn’t seen him in a long time, before word came back of him. speaking of lands where he’d been seen, far away, minds he had graced, help he had given.

outrage he had sparked, just like he did long ago.

a man against science. or, a man of science. i wasn’t sure. i didn’t have time to think about him, just as i didn’t have time back then.

not my problem, nor my friend nina’s problem. we had god knows how many assignments due, laundry to be done, bills to be paid. texts from my parents, who still lived on the same street after all these years, that i should answer.

that’s when i saw him. the boy who was from down the street, standing in the hallway. i still recognized him, although he didn’t quite look the same. he had grown, that much was sensible, his traits sharpened and devoid of childish rounder, and a poise i didn't quite understand. and he smiled at me as i remembered the hide and seek we played with the other kids on the street, and how the neighbours had thought the worst of him for a while. i wondered if they still did.

i didn’t know what to thinkof him now. and turns out, i didn’t need to think of anything.

he wasn’t here for me, but for all of us, he said. he just wanted to help, and now i’m back to my youth and i remember his deal with the devil. what deal had he made? to see it all for... what? in exchange of what?

had he seen his parents again, after leaving them to be destroyed?

who am i kidding, though? if he ran away, or rather got chased away, it wasn’t his fault for his parents’ hurt. he was a kid, and his parents hadn’t cared enough for him. the responsibility was on the parents, on the village.

the kid, now a man in an elegant suit and friendly smile, sharp tooth always sticking out but dulled.

some people called him a buffoon, some couldn’t care less of him, some, from my hometown, were happy to see him. he was here to stay, for a while.

but what was a while, in college? i was busy, and i never noticed when some of my professors had started listening to him, my peers charmed by him even before that. it was a tuesday, when my last essay of the semester was due, and i had to write it on one of the man’s books. a streak of genius, a collaborative effort, the book that was the culmination of humanity.

collaborative with who?

nina hadn’t even read it, just happy that the class was done after this last essay.

the man had written this, but wasn’t he busy conquering hearts and minds across the land, helping others? perhaps the devil had help him see more, be more. “the culmination of humanity”

and, from the book, it was clear he had seen it all. accounts of lands far and wide, stories i’d only ever heard a wisp of before. and there was merit to it. i’ve only ever imagined how the fisher on the west coast felt like at sunrise, the ceo at bankruptcy when an angel, the man himself this time, came to whisper solutions to him. even a chapter on the boy down the street’s parents when they lost their child.

but there is no essay worth to be written on this story. i hate these stories he published but i can’t help but love them and feel like the boy down the street who wrote this book spat on my face.

it was truly all that had ever existed, and that was the problem. it was as if me and the boy down the street and everyone i had ever known or not had spoken in this book. all the flourish and pain and emotion as we might’ve wrote it. it touched me, even at the fictional parts. a combination of the best that could be seen today, and nothing more.

it was unnatural.

and he could’ve picked only a few stories to share instead of all he’d seen, but it wouldn’t have fixed it. nothing would have fixed it.

that is, unless the boy with the crooked tooth had wrote it. and then he might’ve wrote "neighbour" as “neighbor” because it felt more american that way, and it might’ve been about an underdog superhero because those were the stories that he’d loved growing up, and he might've wrote in a cat that added nothing to the plot but was inspired by his lover’s cat, and it might’ve been fictional or not or both, but at least it would have meant something. it could’ve been shit, or perfect, or just alright, but it would have meant something.

that week i watch the man leave, while his deal with the devil stayed with us all.

and i realize i haven’t seen the boy down the street in a long time, and i’m not sure what the deal he made with the devil created, but i’m sure that it destroyed him.

[wisteria-cherry]

forty days and forty nights (day eight!) (part one!)

(wow this is long. there’s a part two too😳😳)

(read them all here!)

the next time those happy little bells rang at 4:56, bakugo came, but so did someone else. it was another man, dressed more casually than bakugo, and a few inches shorter, maybe two or three. he exuded an air of bright happiness, somewhat like a ray of sunshine in human form.

he had hair like bakugo’s, wild and sticking out in many places. however, it seemed more purposeful; you could see the gel that kept his hair that way. he had red eyes, but they were much softer than bakugo’s, and weren’t stuck in a constant state of glaring. he was smiling, looking curiously around the store. he had a snaggletooth.

“you brought a friend, bakugo?” you smile as the two approach the counter.

“he’s a dumbass.” bakugo replied bluntly.

“i’m kirishima.” the red-haired man laughed. “so you’re the barista i’ve heard about?”

“you’ve heard of me?” you raise an eyebrow.

“yup, bakugo’s told me all about you.” kirishima chuckled.

“did not.” bakugo snapped. “i said she’s the annoying-ass extra who makes my goddamn coffee.”

“you said more than that.” kirishima countered. bakugo scowled.

“shut the fuck up, shitty hair.”

“your hair’s just like mine, y’know.” kirishima raised an eyebrow.

“can i get you guys any drinks? medium black coffee for bakugo, i assume?” you smile, stifling your own laughter.

“yeah.” bakugo grunted.

“i’ll have a coffee, too, but with cream and sugar, please.” kirishima said politely.

“of course.” you hum, ringing them up. “coming right up.” you give them their total— they pay separately— and bakugo walks to his seat. kirishima follows. it’s clear from the way they interact that kirishima’s known him for awhile. yet, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve seen him before.

“so, are you a pro hero too?” you ask kirishima as you give them their coffees. bakugo sips his as kirishima answers.

“yup. red riot. i’m number 5 on the hero rankings right now.” kirishima smiled. that explained it. you’d seen him in interviews with bakugo.

“ah, i see. i don’t follow heroes much, so i’m sorry i didn’t recognize you.” you apologize. kirishima waves it off.

“no worries. bakugo already told me about that.”

“he did?”

“yeah!” kirishima grinned. “he said that—“

“shut your fucking mouth.” bakugo’s eye twitched as his hands sparked.

“alright, man.” kirishima held his hands up in surrender.

“no explosions in the store.” you chide, half kidding but also half worrying for the general well-being of your precious workplace and praying it doesn’t go up in flames.

“yeah, yeah, i know.” bakugo rolled his eyes. “i’m not that damn reckless.”

“if you say so.” you hum teasingly.

“fuck you.” bakugo spat.

“refill, kirishima?” you change the subject. “on the house.”

“oh! yeah, sure.” kirishima smiled, passing his empty mug to you, which you then took and proceeded to refill. “are you sure, though? i’m totally down to pay for it.”

“it’s your first time here, don’t worry about it.” you wave a hand dismissively.

“thanks!” kirishima beamed.

“no problem.” you hummed. “bakugo? do you need a refill?”

“no.” bakugo took another sip.

“you’re quiet today.” you remark. “how was work?”

“shit.” bakugo replied bluntly.

“the usual shit or especially shitty?” you hum.

“the usual.” bakugo clicked his tongue. “shitty sidekicks and pathetic villains.”

“i see.” you hum. “kirishima? how was work for you?”

“i saved a lot of people, so i’d consider it pretty good.” kirishima beamed.

“that’s fantastic.” you smile back at him.

“yeah. the coffee’s great, by the way.” kirishima said.

“thank you.” that kirishima. he was so different from bakugo. he was incredibly sweet and polite; definitely someone who attracts people, kind of like a magnet. you’d love to be friends with him and bakugo— though, technically, you thought of bakugo as a sort-of friend already, although you weren’t sure what his stance on it was. you resolved to make an effort to befriend these men.

“so, do you have an agency, too?” you ask curiously. “i understand bakugo has one of his own.” bakugo’s lips twitched into a smug smirk, his agency clearly a source of pride for him.

“yup.” kirishima grinned. “we just got a new building, actually. we’re renovating it right now.”

“that’s so cool!” you exclaim. “where is it?”

“a couple blocks from bakugo’s, actually.” kirishima glanced around. “y’know, i’m surprised you don’t get more business, given how close this place is to bakugo’s agency.”

“there’s a bigger one that’s right next to it,” you explain. “so people usually go there instead.”

“right, i forgot about that.” kirishima chuckled good-naturedly. “but you’ve got bakugo now, huh?”

“shut it, shitty hair.” bakugo glared at kirishima.

“and you, if you like the coffee enough.” you joke. kirishima laughed.

“i wish i could. but i’m usually on patrol when bakugo comes in. i took today off, though, because mina— pinky— is having a party tonight as her place.” kirishima explained. his face lit up as he got an idea. “hey, you should come!” bakugo looked up from his coffee, startled.

“me?” you blink, taken aback by the sudden invitation. “oh, that’s okay, i wouldn’t want to intrude..”

“she said ‘invite anyone and everyone.’” kirishima pulled out his phone, showing you the texts between him and who you assumed was mina. it did indeed say “invite anyone and everyone, ei. people u saved. people on the street. sweet old ladies. waiters at restaurants. everyone.”

“are you sure?” you ask, still hesitant.

“yeah!” kirishima smiled. “mina’s wanted to meet you anyway.”

“i feel famous now.” you chuckle. kirishima laughed with you as bakugo glared at kirishima furiously.

“who the fuck did you tell?!” he demanded. kirishima only smiled.

“just the squad.”

“quit calling it the squad.”

“that’s what the group chat’s called, man. the bakusquad.”

“the- the bakusquad?” you sputter out, nearly choking on your laughter.

“our friends,” kirishima explained. “it’s okay, though. mina would’ve found out anyway, bakugo knows that. so, are you in?” bakugo looked pissed, but not in the way that he’d take action over it.

“only if you’re sure i won’t be intruding.” you sigh with a smile.

“positive.”

“what time is it? and where? and how do i dress for it?” you ramble, to which kirishima chuckled.

“it’s at 8,” kirishima began. “and you can dress however—“

“gimme your phone.” bakugo grunted, holding his hand out unexpectedly. you blink.

“huh?”

“hand it over.” bakugo snapped. “so i can put my number in your phone to send you the damn address.”

“woah, man, i thought you weren’t g-“ bakugo interrupted kirishima.

“shut up.” the blond snapped as you pulled your phone out of your apron, unlocked it, opened the messenger app, and handed it to bakugo as per his request. bakugo grumbled as he typed his number in. his contact name was GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT. all caps. you stifled a snicker as bakugo sent you the address from his own phone.

“thanks.” you smile as kirishima watched the interaction, seemingly amused by something.

“whatever.”

“we can pick you up if you want.” kirishima offered.

“oh, that would be great,” you reply, thankful that getting lost wouldn’t be on the agenda for tonight.

“alright. where do you live?” kirishima asked, listening closely as you told him. “okay, so that’s only ten minutes from mina’s. we’ll get you at 7:45ish, sound good?”

“sounds good.”

“woah, man, i thought you weren’t g-“

“shut up.”

<- previous next->

(feel free to comment + leave ur thoughts :)

tags: @k0z3me

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi! I'm an apprentice librarian at a university of education, and I'd like to suggest our library get some TTRPGs, ones that are available in print and suitable for school (since our userbase is mainly aspiring teachers), ideally with a German translation (I know that part may be difficult).

Do you have some suggestions?

Theme: Available in German!

Hello friend, so my strategy for this was to find some German websites for roleplaying games and then try to see if they sold physical copies of certain games. This is going to be a bit different from my regular recommendations, mostly because I can’t read German! So I figured I’d send you to these different publishers, and point out specific games that look like potential candidates.

(Also German-speaking followers please sound off in the tags and comments!)

Plotbunny Games @plotbunnygames

From what I can tell, this is a small publisher with a number of indie ttrpgs, and most of these games look to have physical copies. The games that really stand out to me here are Follow, and Miss Bernberg’s Finishing School for Young Ladies. Follow is a game by Ben Robbins, the creator of Microscope, and is a GM-less collaborative storytelling game about going on a quest. I think it would be a great game for collaboration and quick brainstorming sessions. Miss Bernberg’s Finishing School for Young Ladies is made in-house, and is a Firebrands game, which means that it uses a number of small mini-games to tell a bigger story. Great for focusing on narrative over complex characters. There’s also a German translation of ImproVeto, which is a great tool for introducing safety tools, good for any roleplaying group.

Obscurati

Obscurati has two games that I recognize: Tiny Dungeons and Into the Dark. Tiny Dungeons is made by Gallant Knight Games. It is very streamlined, and has a lot of supplements for you to customize your setting. Obscurati appears to have a large number of physical Tiny Dungeon components, including a hardcover book. If you want traditional fantasy, this is probably worth checking out. Into the Dark is a Forged-in-Dark game by Off Guard Games, and is a dark-fantasy dungeon delving game that gives you character playbooks, tables for adventure generation, and a streamlined game system. I’m generally a fan of Forged in the Dark games because they give you some easy-to-understand mechanics that can carry a story really far. (This game is also in hardcover!)

Ulisses Spiele

Ulisses Spiele looks to be a pretty major publisher, with D&D, Warhammer, and Pathfinder all in one house. I'm assuming you're probably familiar with them. If you want a big-name roleplaying game, this is the place to be. Many of the games from this publishing house are pretty crunchy, so they’re more suited for folks who want to go through the traditional process of complex character creation, and specific rules for things like range, inventory, specific types of damage, etc.

If you’re looking for games that hearken to popular media, Dune and Tales from the Loop both come from Modiphius, a games company with a pretty good reputation for mechanically sound games, although they generally require a lot of bookkeeping. World of Darkness is the game system I’m most familiar with in this list, using dice pools of d10s, although much of the subject matter in these games is rather dark - especially since the bulk of their WoD catalogs appears to be Vampire: the Masquerade. I’m actually really intrigued by Die Schwarze Katze, of which I’m not entirely sure there is an English equivalent, and appears to be a fantasy game with cat characters!

Truant Spiele

Truant has a number of games that I am unfamiliar with, although I may have heard of their names before. Kult is labelled as an adult roleplaying game, so if you want something child-friendly, I’d stay away, and The One Ring has not received many friendly reviews - but Warbirds is a fantastical-historical game about fighter pilots and aerial combat, which looks pretty lighthearted, although this looks like a game that can have winners and losers. There’s also The Witcher RPG, a class-based system all about fighting monsters in a well-loved world based on that of the video game. The Witcher looks to be a bit on the crunchier side of things, so I’d see it as a better candidate for long-term campaigns rather than quick pick-up sessions. Finally, they carry Cyberpunk Red, which I’ve heard rave reviews for, with pre-generated enemies, a giant swathe of lore, and plenty of player support.

Fiasco

There’s a physical German version of Fiasco on the Pro-Indie website, along with a number of supplements. Fiasco is a game about a making a terrible movie using card stock and dice, and is great for lighthearted games and ridiculous stories.

Now, for some digital runners-up.

Pegasus Digital looks to be a German version of DriveThru Rpg, with a smaller catalogue but a lot of resources for Cthulhu 7, Shadowrun, and Avatar Legends. If you get folks who want to see what else is out there, this might be a handy website to direct them to.

Hero Kids is a game that only has a physical version in English, but it has a digital German equivalent! This is a great game for young role-players and folks who want a kid-friendly style of role-play.

DURF is a minimalist fantasy game with a number of different translations, including a German one. It isn’t available in print, but the game itself is small enough that printing copies of the game for yourself and fellow players shouldn’t be very expensive. DURF is based in OSR style play, so expect very small character sheets and an emphasis on your inventory.

Brindlewood Bay is only available in English and Polish, as far as I can tell- but there is a collection of play materials available in German! This game has such a big following because it has a reputation for being easy to teach, and it has a really wonderful mystery system, so I think it might be worth checking out.

[riddles-n-games]

THL Kiss Drabbles-Pt. 4

Flip The Disk

Jameson wasn’t patient. He didn’t wait. He lived with his foot on the gas. “You want to figure it out.” I stared at him, feeling his stare on me. “Together.” 

“You don’t have to say anything.” Jameson stood. I could still feel the ghost of his touch on the inside of my arm. I could see the vein in my wrist and feel my heart pumping. “You don’t have to kiss me now. You don’t have to love me now, Heiress. But when you’re ready…” He brought his hand to the side of my face. I leaned into it. His breath went ragged, and then he pulled his hand back and nodded to the disk in my hand. “When you’re ready, if you’re ever re-”

Before he could say anything more, I was pulling him back down by the arm he withdrew and crashing my lips into his. I heard the gasp of surprise and felt him stiffen against me. For a long moment, he didn’t do anything, just staying unnervingly still, and suddenly my confidence wavered. But I didn’t dare open my eyes even though I wanted to pull away in shame. Did I read him wrong? But then, as if he heard my thoughts, Jameson sprang to life. 

His free hand cupped my cheek and he deepened the kiss as he moved to sit down again at the edge of the bed. I slowly let go of his arm, trailing my hand up his shoulder and burying it into his soft hair. A blissful sigh escaped me. He smiled against my lips. I missed this. Us.

He pulled away first and peppered a few kisses over my cheeks and nose before leaning back, taking me in again. “Well, I was going to say that if you’re ever ready to choose, just flip that disk…unless I misunderstood…” 

Jameson looked at me warily but I recognized the spark of hope that shone in his eyes. Although those green eyes of his hid so many secrets, they were also his biggest giveaway. It was strange to hear him so vulnerable, walls down and sounding raw without pretense. 

I shook my head. “No. You didn’t. I want this. Us.” I paused for a moment, gathering my courage. This is it. “I like what we have. I want to be an us, I-I mean, to continue being an us. Sorry, I-” I cut myself off and exhaled. My hand squeezed that little disk hard. Come on Avery, you can do this. You are A Very Risky Gamble. Just tell him. You want this, you want him. Tell him you like him, too. 

With Jameson still looking at me so hopefully, the words on the tip of my tongue, I finally blurted it out, “I like you, Jameson!” 

His face lit up then, with the brightest, most devastating Jameson Winchester Hawthorne smile I had ever seen and it was beautiful. His teeth were showing, it was still crooked, and it was so wide that it almost looked like it was about to split his face but I loved it so much that it stole my breath. This was the happiest I’d ever seen him; it felt genuine, sincere. My heart was suddenly beating at a thousand miles per hour like I was on the motorcycle again, holding his waist as the wind tore at us at high speeds. 

He moved aside the blanket and scooped me up gently into his lap, cradling my waist as he kissed me this time with that same dizzying fervor like every other time before. I savored it, every last second. It felt like coming home. But just as quickly, he broke the kiss and left me breathless again. He cupped my cheek and stroked it tenderly. “I like you too, Heiress. But are you sure? I don’t want you feeling forced.”

I looked at him intently and nodded firmly, "Yes, I’m absolutely certain.” Then, feeling a bit bashful, I say the last bit quieter, “I want you to be my Jamie.”

He smiled again, a smaller one this time, almost shy. “I like that; your Jamie.”    

I grinned and he did too. Then, he took my other hand holding the disk and flipped over, prying my fingers open slowly. He spoke up, “I never finished what I was going to say, but even though I have my answer… Heads, I kiss you. Tails, you kiss me. And… either way, it means something.” At that last part, his voice went very soft.

He looked at me with a look and I knew what he wanted me to do. So I flipped the disk. “Tails.” I looked up from the disk. “I guess that means I kiss yo-” I didn’t get to finish before his lips were pressed firmly against mine again. I smiled.

This was how it was going to be now; me and him. No going back. Heads or tails; either way it means something. I could get used to that.

A/N: Hey, so of the original drabbles I planned, this is the last but given a follower's request, there will be an additional one coming out at some point.

[stellasfictionalworld]

part 2.

part 3

a/n: i got so excited i decided to right a second part already. reader is referred to as cupid. 

reader x andre anderson 

cw: (i mean you’ve watched the show so) implied sex, swearing, under age drinking, fluff, use of drugs, implied sexual assault

word count: 1,606

Your roommate is Ashley Carter. You two hit it off well, she’s been taking the Performing Arts courses. Although, you’ve suggested she might as well join Hero Management since she saved your ass last year. When your Student Rating skyrocketed after your fuck fest, she was right there beside you. Excited for you, and helped you point yourself in the right direction. She helped you find a marketing team, and read through contracts to make sure you weren’t getting scammed. It made sense, considering Ashley was taking some law classes on the side with her Performing Arts courses. 

Yet she loved the big screen, and it was made for her. Her power was that she could sparkle, like literally. Edward Cullen style, without the need for blood. She very much could blind the shit out of you or act as a disco ball. Anyhow, you two made the cutest insta posts together. Cupid and Glitter. 

Your name was called as you pulled a knee-high sock. You greeted your roommate as she flopped onto her bed. 

“Look at you,” you could hear the smile on her face. “You think you’ll get to be one of them? I can see it already,” she said.

You turned to your roommate and shook your head but you had a small smile on your face.

“I’d like to get to know them first,” you said, your heart sinking. You wouldn’t be used, not again. You put on the rest of your outfit and posed for Ashley. “What do you think,” you said. 

“Cuuuute,” she said, snapping a picture. 

“Thanks,” you winked. “What are your plans by the way?” you asked. 

“I think I’m gonna see Jen again,” she said. 

You grinned widely and your brows shot up. “You’re gonna find love before I do,” you said and her face started to get red. 

“Get out of here,” she waved you off. “Go see Andre,” she added. 

“Okay, but tomorrow. Drinks and stories,” you pointed at her and she nodded. 

…

It wasn’t till you got there, that you realized this was Dusty’s place. You’d gone to other house parties, but this place was a mad(crack)house. The shit that happened here, most of the time no one would remember by morning. Your stomach churned as you followed a group ahead of you. They opened the door and you were immediately hit with the smell of sweat and weed. The mad(fuck)house was booming with life. Dancing, snorting up cocaine, makeout sessions, and other crude shit happened right in front of your eyes. Someone bumped into you and you took that as a sign to move. 

You texted Andre, saying you’d made it inside. You licked the cherry gloss on your lips as you made your way around the house. You found the drinks and grabbed the first thing you saw. Your fingers trembled as you tried to get the top off. 

“Fuck,” you muttered in annoyance. The rancid smell of vomit hit your nose already. 

“Need help with that?” someone asked beside you. 

“Yeah actually,” you looked up with a sweet smile. Your blood went ice cold when you recognized the blonde you were looking at. Rufus, you’d heard rumors about him, they usually involved non-consent situations. A part of you told you to run, but you kept up the smile. Offering him the bottle and he cracked it open with ease. 

“Thank you,” you said and took a step around him.

“No problem,” he blocked your escape, putting a hand on the kitchen counter. “You’re Cupid right?” he asked. 

“The one and only,” you sipped your drink, “and you are?” you asked. 

“Rufus, sure you haven’t heard of me?” he asked with a slightly higher pitch. 

You pressed your lips together and knitted your brows together. You were picking at his ego on purpose, it’s what he deserved after all. 

“I think the name rings a bell, do we have a class together?” you asked. 

He laughed dryly, eyeing your tits now. Chills ran down your spine, fucking wanting to run. You were in his range, he could catch you the minute you turned around. 

He started to talk again, and your phone buzzed. 

“Sorry, give me a sec,” you said and you didn’t hear a response. 

Andre

10:03 pm

just got here, where are you?

You swallowed thickly as you typed away.

10:03

Kitchen, with Rufus. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” you said with your fake smile. 

“No worries,” he stepped closer to you. Your nose scrunched up, overwhelmed by his cologne and alcohol breath. “What do you say, we go upstairs? I know you’re kinda on break, but c’mon,” he laughed, licking his lips. “I know you’re dying for some,” he finished his sentence. You would have gagged on the spot if not for the fact he thought you wanted this. He was giving you a choice, not mind fucking you yet. 

“I just got here,” you cracked a smile, “I wanna party a little first,” you said.

He did not like that. He stared at you, hungry for the parts of you that everyone knew about. You might as well have been naked, people openly talked about your body last year. Everyone knew about your magic touch. Rufus wanted more than a taste, and you were going to give it to him. Right to his crotch. 

Before your fist collided with anything, a hand wrapped around your hip. Your brows shot up and you looked over your shoulder. Andre pressed himself against you and smiled at you. 

“Sorry for making you wait,” he said, he gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “Rufus,” he said darkly, immediately Rufus cleared his throat. He backed the fuck up and eyed you then him. There were flashes of anger and fear between each glance. Then he muttered something before disappearing with a bottle of beer. 

You let out a breath of relief and blinked away the wetness in your eyes. 

“You okay? Did he do anything to you?” he asked, staring down the hallway Rufus had escaped with. You wondered if he hoped to have laser eyes at that very moment. You took in a breath and chugged the beer. 

“He didn’t, thanks to you,” you put down the bottle and grabbed a cold one. “Thank you,” you looked up at him and he nodded.

“It’s my fault if–” he said, and you shushed him. 

“Don’t. Nothing happened, it’s all good,” you smiled.

“Right,” he took in a sharp breath through his nose, “just stay with me. I’ll make sure he doesn't even fucking look at you,” he looked down at you. 

It was sweet, he got so pressed on your behalf. You could handle yourself, but sometimes you still needed saving. Though it wasn’t the first time you dealt with guys like Rufus, considering your last year in God U. Andre simmered down but hadn’t moved his hand the whole time. 

“Let’s party, yeah?” you said. “Didn’t you say your friends were here too?” you asked. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” his shoulders had dropped, and he gave you his iconic gorgeous smile. His hand finally slipped away, but you swear you saw his fingers flinch when he let go. You followed him, and he pointed to the group sitting outside. They were sitting on picnic chairs, around a foldable table. You immediately appreciated the fresh air, it was a bit cold making you close up your cardigan. 

There were a few people outside in the pool, some chilling outside of it. It wasn’t too noisy though. The table was filled with laughter as Andre and you took a seat. They’d saved an extra seat just for you. 

“Hey,” Cate greeted you first, then Luke did, and you received a nod from Jordan. “You two okay?” she asked with brows furrowed. Her big blue eyes twinkled because of the fairy lights, she looked like a Disney princess. One who looked so hot smoking a blunt before passing it to Luke.

“It’s fine.”

“Rufus was talking to her.”

You both blurted at the same time.

Your brow shot up and immediately the mood was killed. 

“Shit, did he do anything to you?” Luke immediately asked.

“No he didn’t, luckily Andre saved me,” you bumped shoulders with him. He gave you a small smile, but something told you he wasn’t going to let this go any time soon. Cate had gone quiet with a distant look in her eyes before lighting a new blunt. She handed it to you with a small smile. You dragged out the blunt and immediately melted into your chair. 

Time passed, and all of you discussed how classes were hard. You and Cate disagreed though. Andre needed saving before his grade dropped, so in between drinks. You’d offered to help him, tutor instead of giving him the answers. He seemed surprisingly excited by the idea, saying you should. His friends were rolling their eyes and grinning. 

You were so distracted with other shit, like how the sun umbrella looked like it was melting. Jordan had given you some good shit, and you’d cried to them. Saying how good this shit was, and how grateful they were your provider. They’d toppled over laughing in their fem form with you. You both eventually just couldn’t stop laughing next to the pool. 

Then you woke up in your bed. The drapes were open, causing you to groan. You fell out of bed and shut them immediately. Then you collapsed back onto your bed. You touched your jacket, realizing it wasn’t even yours. Then you sat up. 

“Holy shit,” you said. 

[sapphicsaints]

What if reader was Nikolai’s sister who’s in a relationship with Tamar and when they’re at sea they can actually be together but on land they can’t because it’s forbidden, maybe a jealousy one where her parents are pushing reader into an arranged marriage.

princesses get what they want

Tamar x Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: “I’ll figure it out. Princesses are used to getting what they want.” 

“Oh and am I something you want?” Her eyes glimmered with a challenge.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I had fun writing this.

I was pissed when Nikolai said no to me accompanying them on the whaler. But he had a point - it’s too risky to have both of us together, to chance the Darkling recognizing us. Tailoring only went so far. We can’t shake the mannerisms we share, even the crew suspect we’re related, although they don’t know our true identities. Plus, it would be a shame for Ravka to lose both of their spares in one go. 

“I can’t trust you not to snap back at the Grisha.” He didn’t face me, still stood pouring over a map. 

My eyes narrowed. “Can’t trust me?” 

His head snapped over his shoulder. “You know as well as I do that your attitude can be … volatile.” 

I scoffed. “I have self control.” 

“Do you not remember the fight you got in with the Grisha children? How did that end last time?” 

“With a few bruised egos.” I laughed at the memory. Nikolai didn’t laugh. I’d caused quite the headache, and he’d been the one to explain it to my mother. 

Tamar snickered from the corner and I shot her a glare. She’s not helping the situation. 

--

I couldn’t help the relief I felt when Tamar returned safe, nor the anger when Nikolai announced she’d be sharing quarters with the Sun Summoner. I dragged him away to have a quiet, but heated exchange. 

“You didn’t bother to ask me before kicking me out of my room?” I hissed. 

“There’s a better room for you.” He tried to soothe. 

“Oh you know that’s not the reason.” 

He winced, looking around for someone to come interrupt. I poked a finger into his chest. “You owe me one.” He nodded before waving Privyet over, I took that as my chance to leave and find Tamar. 

I intercepted her on her way back up to get her rations. “Did you agree to this before?” I asked through clenched teeth. 

“I found out when you did.” She shrugged. 

“You’re not upset?” 

“Of course I am.” She said, with a tone of surprise, “But I can’t question him in front of everyone.” 

I sighed, she has a point. “I’m stealing you for a few hours.” I said, before dragging her back down, she laughed. 

--

“Are you excited to be back?” Alina asked as we walked into our lodgings for the night.

I looked at her, it was a genuine question. “I’d rather be anywhere else.” I answer drily. Tolya chuckled behind me. 

“Why?” She pushed. 

I sighed, not in annoyance, but explaining the situation might make it a bit more real than I want to. 

“Come on,” I said, and tugged her up the stairs towards our room. I shut the door and sat on the windowsill, motioning for her to take a seat. She sat on my bed, looking vaguely uncomfortable. The door opened again, Tamar walked in and leaned against it. I didn’t pay much attention to her, it would hurt too much to look at her now, and to explain this. Before she could say anything I started explaining. 

“Once we get back, they’re going to start trying to marry me off.” Alina glanced toward Tamar, her expression stony. I couldn’t meet her eyes. “And I love being called a bastard.” 

Alina’s eyes widened. I’m sure she’d heard the rumors, but confirmation is another thing entirely. 

I chuckled darkly, “Mother couldn’t stay away from the Kaelish.” There was a bite in my voice, an edge. “Isn’t it obvious?” I said, waving my hand over my face. Neither of the women in the room commented, Tamar already knew but Alina seemed in shock. I pushed myself up from my seat, heading to the door. I stopped a few paces away, turning my head over my shoulder.  

“I love my brother, but do yourself a favor and don’t marry him. Court is fucked up, you don’t want to be involved any more than you have to be Sun Summoner.”

I brushed past Tamar, “Always the dramatics” she whispered in my ear. I rolled my eyes but walked out. Hopefully she wasn’t on guard duty tonight, and I could steal her for a few hours. 

“You like it.” I said, and closed the door behind me. I heard her talking to Alina behind me, but didn’t reply. My shoulders sagged as I walked out the door. I felt it coming back - the burden. I didn’t like it. 

--

“You’ve finally returned.” Mother kissed both of my cheeks and I had to fight the urge to cringe back. 

“Did you not get any of our summons?” She asked. 

“They must’ve been lost.” I replied, my voice a bit distant. The tone I'd always adopted at home. I saw Tamar glance at me out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t dare look back. If there was a mirror nearby I'd have been able to see the mask that slowly set in place, the hardness that settled in behind my eyes. It’s a shame how quickly old habits settle back in. One glance at Nikolai, and I saw it on him. My eyes narrowed as I watched Vasily sitting next to ‘father’. The hatred that swarmed through my body threatened to burst through, the one who’d made my life living hell growing up. The tension must’ve been palpable because I felt Nikolai’s hand on my shoulder. 

“It’s been a long journey.” He said, “We’ll settle in and return for dinner.” He steered me out of the room, hand on my shoulder, and I caught Tamar’s eye on the way out. I winked at her, and to her credit she didn’t break face - but I saw the amused glint in her eyes. At least one of us found it funny. It didn’t escape our parents' attention that we didn’t ask to be dismissed, that we left. It was a subtle threat - that we could leave again if we wanted to. 

“Did we really have to come back?” I muttered to Nikolai as we walked out of the throne room. 

“The walls have ears.” He replied, and I sealed my mouth shut. “We’ll talk later.” He finished, dropping me off at my room. I forced a smile on my face as servants began fluttering in and out, all but shoving me straight into the bath.

--

I agreed to meet her, just past sundown, on the grounds. She said there’s something she wants to show me. Sneaking past my guards and all of the servants dotting around too a bit of effort - and a little bit of blind faith, jumping out of the window into the soft bushes. 

I landed with a grunt, and heard laughter coming from across the lawn. My eyes narrowed and I saw a figure running towards me. Her. She’s supposed to meet me somewhere else completely. I’m struggling out of the bushes when her hand appears in front of me. I considered batting it away but ended up taking it and let her heave me to my feet, dragging me out of the bushes. I cross my arms to glare at her. 

“You weren’t supposed to be anywhere near here.” 

She laughed, a grin spreading across her face. The grin I love so much. “I couldn’t miss seeing the princess land in the bushes.” 

“How’d you know I’d take the window? I could’ve snuck through the halls.”

“Past all the guards Nikolai has stationed?” She laughed again. “You’re good, but you wouldn’t have made it past the first set of doors before someone told him.” 

I rolled my eyes. She has a point. Her eyes scan the surrounding area before she pulls me right into a tight hug. I squeeze back, holding on as long as I can. Eventually she untangles herself from me and kisses my forehead. 

“I’ve missed you.” She murmurs, holding me back at the shoulders. 

“I wish we could see each other more.” 

Her hands drop, one taking mine instead. I took this for granted at sea, being with each other publicly, without any fears. “Let’s go for a walk.” She said instead. 

We took the long way around the gardens. The silence felt tense for once, normally it was comfortable - easy. 

“Mother wants me to start meeting suitors.” I said, my voice low. I saw Tamar’s shoulders tense. 

“How do you feel about that?” She replied. 

I stopped and turned to face her. “What do you think?” 

“How am I supposed to know?” Maybe the hurt showed through my eyes because her eyes softened and she wrapped me up in another hug. “We knew this would happen.”

“I’ll fight it. I’ll find a way.” She hummed, like she didn’t believe me, but I would. I would find a way to get out of this, somehow. 

“I’m jealous.” 

That came as a surprise. It shouldn’t have. 

“Why?” I regretted the question as soon as it left my lips. “Nevermind.” I said quickly, covering my tracks. “What do you want to show me?” 

She placed a soft kiss on my lips before taking my hand again and smiling, dragging me towards the stables. We stood around the outside edge, in the shadows, watching the fights. We quietly placed bets on the fighters - I lost a fair bit of money, not that it really mattered to me. It reminded me of the Volkvolny - and she knew it. 

“Think any of them would fight me?” I asked. 

She laughed, “Not if they know who you are.” 

“Let’s get Genya to tailor me.” I said, my practically bouncing on my feet. “Tomorrow.” 

“And how are we going to explain who you are?” 

“I’ll figure it out. Princesses are used to getting what they want.” 

“Oh and am I something you want?” Her eyes glimmered with a challenge. I took a quick look around, nobody was paying attention, and dragged her to a corner. 

“Anyone can see.” She hissed “I know this place better than anyone.” I winked at her before dragging her off to a hidden corner on the grounds. 

I made Tamar a lot of money the next night, and pissed Tolya off. He figured it out after the first three fights, and dragged me back towards the Grand Palace, Tamar laughing her ass off in tow. Thankfully, she healed me, and nobody was none the wiser that they got their ass kicked by the Princess of Ravka. 

-- 

A party was thrown at the Grand Palace in honor of Nikolai’s birthday, and the Queen took it as an excuse to arrange some suitors to come visit. Tamar was on guard in the corner, the Sun Summoner attending. I faked some smiles, a few gentle touches on arms here and there. Too many dances with grubby hands. I was dancing with the son of a wealthy Kerch merchant when his hand drifted a bit too low. I firmly moved it back onto my waist, but caught Tamar’s face out of the corner of my eye - the look in her eyes made me gulp. She didn’t see me watching her, her eyes were narrowed on the man in front of me, waiting a few seconds too long before roaming the room again. I tried to catch her eye several times, even tried to stand next to her at one point, but it’s like she sensed me coming and moved before I could get close. I couldn’t fight the hurt and anger that slowly built up inside me. I’d go see her later tonight. I had too. 

I didn’t get that chance. Nikolai and I barely escaped with our lives - and I had the honor of dragging Baghra out of her cave. I fought in the infantry too, I thought I knew war, but shadow monsters that can’t be killed are something else entirely. The Darkling had changed the playing field completely, we were caught off guard, caught by surprise. I should have felt bad about Vasily being ripped to pieces, and part of me did, but the other was so angry that he put everything at risk for his own vanity, that I didn’t have space in my heart to mourn for him. 

I went back with him that night, and I saw no sign of her, no sign of anyone, just bodies littering the ground. No survivors in sight. I vomited that night for hours. Hidden away from everyone. She had to be alive, had to. I felt it, I would know if she was dead. Maybe it’s fake hope, but I clung to it like a lifeline. 

-- 

I didn’t expect anything special when Nikolai returned from the raid, he’d gone many times, and this is the one I decided to sit out, having been injured on the last. Of course the one I miss is the one Tamar showed up at. He conveniently forgot to tell me she’d been spotted at one of the smuggling stations. 

“I thought of you every day.” I said between kisses, hidden in one of many back hallways. 

“I did too.” She replied. 

“If you still want me.” Tamar went to interrupt, but I held up one hand. “Now that Nikolai’s King. There’s nothing stopping us.” 

Her head lowered, mouth moving to graze my ear. She didn’t answer my question directly. “Every time one of those men would put a hand on you. Every time you had to flirt back. I thought I'd explode.” She pushed me towards the wall, my back pressed against the stone cold. Tamar moved slowly, her hand tracing the side of my face, I leaned into her touch. “I couldn’t think of you the last few months. The idea that you might be dead. It was too painful.” 

I tilted my head to meet her eyes. “I knew you’d be alive.” I saw the confusion on her face. “I would’ve felt it if you died.” I held a hand up to my heart. It might be the cheesiest thing I've ever said, but the small smile on her face was worth it. I couldn’t handle it any longer, I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in, pulled her into the kiss I’d been waiting months for. 

[rodricksfilipinagf]

Academia AU Pt.1 (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

After another successful, though exhausting class taught, I clutch my Stanley cup and take it off my desk, eager to make it to the English department meeting. I hoped the meeting would be over soon so that I could make it back to my apartment to read my latest romance novel I checked out from the library. 

As an English professor at Prythian University, my personal interests tend to creep into my curriculum, and I like it that way! I want my students to love reading, and the best way to do that is to get them to read something they’ll be interested in. Something they’ll relate to. Something they’d read already without me getting involved. 

I recently included manga in my curriculum after my brief stint working with kids. My all-time favorite student absolutely loved Naruto. Like, devoured the mangas because he loved the anime. Little kids and university students aren’t that different- intrinsic motivation is the key to reaching them. 

As I reach closer to the room the meeting will be held in, I unscrew my Stanley cup and take a sip. 

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice drawls, and I almost spit out my water. On him. Although…I might really love that, it might actually make him unfairly hotter. With his bright red hair, amber eyes, and the gorgeous planes of his face, he didn’t need me splashing water onto his white button down, revealing probably ripped abs. Eris Vanserra, the worst English professor at this university. 

It’s not that he’s bad at teaching, although that would be an enormous plus and give me another reason to hate him. He’s actually a huge hardass when it comes to assignments and grading. What’s most infuriating about him is his inability to recognize that what I do matters just as much as what he does. 

“Drag yourself away from lecturing about childrens’ books?” he asks. “You are aware that this is a university, not an elementary school.” Fuck him. Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. 

“As if children’s literature isn’t a recognized genre,” I say.

“Just admit it. You just want to go easy on your students. Coddle them and give them easy A’s so they’ll like you,” he says. 

My mouth drops open at that insulting remark. How dare he? “What would you have me do? Assign them stuff I know they hate so they won’t read it at all?”

He rolls his eyes. “Ever heard of giving them a poor grade? It’s how they learn not to do that.”

“I’m surprised you still have enough students to fill a class,” I retort. 

“Because my students take their education seriously, unlike yours. Yours wouldn’t last a week in mine.” With that, he breezes into the room, not bothering to talk to anyone else. Why would he? With his father being the Chair of the English Department, he has no reason to schmooze. 

Speaking of, his father, Beron, takes the podium. I quickly find a seat near the front, far, far away from Eris. 

“Welcome, Prythian University English Department. It is with the utmost despondency that I announce my upcoming retirement. Next semester, I will no longer be Chair of the English Department. I’m growing old, and I want to spend my next years away from academia after my many years serving this university. That being said, one of you will be replacing me. I hope the next generation will continue the legacy of this great university,” Beron says. 

I think it over. This is a leadership position, which all my life I’ve always craved. I’d love to get this job. I would still teach my students but also get to impact the curriculum that gets taught here. I have my Romance Novels, Children’s Literature, and my one class dedicated to manga and graphic novels, as well as Creative Writing classes in Poetry, Fiction, and Nonfiction. I could make sure that these classes stay at the university, and that there’s more like them in the future. Not only that, I could make sure that we get advanced playwriting and screenwriting classes, as well as more funding for the more fun and creative classes. 

After Beron goes over all the requirements for the position, the meeting disperses. I gather up my stuff and leave. Unfortunately as soon as I leave the room I run smack into Eris.

“Don’t even think about it, bunny,” he says, tweaking one of my ears. “The position’s mine.”

“Fuck off,” I say. “I deserve this way more than you do.”

“And why’s that?” he raises an eyebrow. 

“Cause you’re tired. Boring. And stale. Oh sorry, I meant what you teach,” I say, suppressing a smile. 

“And in thousands of years, no one will care what you teach,” he says. “Even now what you’re doing’s a waste of time. So why don’t you throw in the towel now so you don’t get hurt.”

“The only one who will get hurt is you when you don’t get the chair position,” I say.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Is that so, bunny?” Before I could react, he backs me into the wall. “You really think what I teach holds no value?”

“I didn’t say no value,” I protest.

“Uh-uh, don’t go back on it,” he wheedles, pressing me into the wall. “You said tired. Boring, and stale, was it? And what do you think is so much better? Those romance novels you teach?”

I let out a breath. “I didn’t know you kept such tabs on my curriculum.”

He chuckles. “How can I not keep track of everything that’s wasting university money that should go to me?”

The sheer arrogance of him. “Sounds like you’re obsessed with me.”

He smirks. “As if you’re not obsessed with me, darling.”

“Fuck. You.”

“Don’t you wish you would,” he whispers. “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.” He runs a thumb over my cheek. “It’s not from one of your romance novels, but you look pretty flustered to me,” he comments. 

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from blushing further. “Fuck off,” I say. Even I’m not immune to a fucking Shakespeare quote, but did he seriously think I was dumb enough not to recognize it?  “I have to plan what I’m going to say to the English department heads to convince them to choose me to be the next chair.”

His eyes darken. “Including my father.”

I snort. “So? I’m not going to give up just because your father might give it to you out of nepotism.”

“You really don’t know my father, do you?” he asks. 

“No,” I admit. “But I know my stuff. So watch out.”

“Oh I will, bunny,” he assures me, his eyes running the length of my body. “I will.”

[darkness-and-books]

The Things We Do For The Fleet

Chapter 4: PJ’s

💙eventual Leonard McCoy x fem!reader💙

⚠️: none

word count: 1,420

<-Previous-Next->

Leonard had looked back at his quarters and the three neatly packed boxes in the corner near the door. It probably said something about him that all he had to pack up were two boxes of paperwork and a box of clothes, but he tried not to mind it as he left to go and find Y/N’s quarters. Three doors to the left Leonard thought to himself as he walked down the hall. “Don’t be weird, that’s all you gotta do” He told himself as he came to Y/N’s door. “It’s not like either of us chose this, we’ll just work it out together,” he said as he brought his hand to the pad that would set off a bell of sorts inside. Don’t be nervous, it’ll all be fine Leonard rocked back and forth on his heels. Alright so she’s not here, better luck next time he turned back the direction he came from, but just then he heard the door slide open. Leonard turned back to see two things: 1) The girl he had frightened near to death this morning, 2) She was soaking wet and wrapped up in nothing but a little periwinkle towel. Where’d she even get that? The Star Fleet only issues plain white towels, it was just as this thought crossed his mind that he recognized, with wide eyes, that he had been staring. “I’m so sorry!” Leonard apologised as Y/N looked at her feet and blushed. So much more awkward than I thought it would be. “I suppose it is your turn to be sorry” Y/N mumbled shyly, but jokingly as she continued to look down. Leonard chuckled, “Hey, listen it’s kinda awkward, but we’ve been roomed together” He told her as he now scratched his neck and looked down at his own feet. “Oh,” Y/N gasped airily, “You must be Dr. McCoy then,” She murmured, holding out her right hand for him to shake while the other clung to her towel. “I guess I must,” Leonard joked lightly as he took her hand in his. They looked at each other for a moment and then jumped apart as though electrically shocked when they realised that they were still shaking hands. “Would you like to come in? I’ll only be a moment changing, and then we can discuss who’s quarters we’ll be moving things into,” Y/N offered, “Oh there’s not much to discuss, I only have uniforms and paperwork, I figured I’d end up moving my things to your quarters, seeing as I don’t have many things,” Leonard attempted what he hoped was a charming smile, but probably came off as a tight lipped grimace. “Well you could come in and wait anyways, and then I could help you start to bring your things over, if that would be okay,” Y/N asked, eyes still glued to her feet, “I would love to come in,” Leonard replied softly, trying to match her quiet and small energy so as not to scare her too much more. “Okay,” She seemed to perk up a bit more at his acceptance of her offer. She beckoned him in, in a manner that seemed to show that they had been standing out in the hall like this for some several minutes. “Oh,” Leonard began in slight shock, I’m not sure what I expected, but somehow this wasn’t it, although it does fit her he looked around the room, “It’s very… I guess it’s very uh, angelic” Leonard stumbled over his own words in an attempt not to insult the sheepish girl in front of him. “Oh, that’s okay, we can change if you like,” Y/N scrambled to offer in a bashful tone of voice. “No, no, I like it, it’s so much more peaceful than the rest of the ship. I can see myself very relaxed here at the end of the day,” Leonard assured her. “Okay, but if you change your mind, we can still change it,” She told him, “Umm, anyway, I should go change,” Y/N seemed to have just remembered they were still only wearing a towel.

Y/N walked into the bathroom, where the tub was still full of, now tepid, water and half dissolved bubbles. She let out a crestfallen sigh as she drained the bath. Oh well, better luck next time I guess Y/N turned away from the bath and put her pyjamas on to the sound of water swirling down the drain. She watched herself in the mirror, did she really want to go back out to that man in these pyjamas? The longer Y/N looked at herself the more she wanted to crawl into the small space between the counter and the hamper and never come out. Maybe this wouldn’t be happening if you would just buy yourself normal, grownup pyjamas she looked at her reflection sternly in a silent admonishment. She couldn’t really stay in the bathroom forever, eventually Dr. McCoy would come looking for her. With one more long look at herself she tied back her hair and opened the bathroom door again. Dr. McCoy looked up from his spot on the couch, Y/N could feel her cheeks grow warm as his eyes roved over her form. After a long moment of silence he finally opened his mouth to speak, “Cute PJ’s, darlin. Wanna come help me with my things or would you rather stay here?” Dr. McCoy asked Y/N. She just nodded her head numbly, Darlin?, she thought as she continued to nod slowly. “That’s not exactly an answer to an A or B question,” Dr. McCoy remarked with a small smile. “Oh! What was the question?” Y/N asked and was about to apologise, "You wanna come with me to get my things?” He asked, stopping her before she could begin to say sorry again. “I’ll come with you,” Y/N nodded and slowly walked up to the couch. Dr. McCoy stood up and put a hand on her back to guide her out the door. Y/N stiffened at his touch and his hand fell away, she couldn’t help but berate herself for reacting in such a manner.

She walked out of the bathroom, dressed in an adorable cloud nightgown with little bows on the sleeves. Gee, I guess we’ll both be wearing nightgowns to bed he took in her whole form with the nightgown draped over her, “Cute PJ’s, darlin. Wanna come help me with my things or would you rather stay here?” Leonard offered her. She nodded at him blankly, Right, the light’s on, but whoever was home just left, “That’s not exactly an answer to an A or B question,” he told her with a soft smile. “Oh! What was the question?” Y/N asked and Leonard could tell she was about to let another apology spill from her lips. “You wanna come with me to get my things?” He rephrases the question for her and she nods once more. “I’ll come with you,” She walked up to the couch to meet him as he stood. Leonard put a hand on her back to lead her out the door and she stiffened at the touch. She must not like to be touched much, he pulled his hand away and let it fall by his side as they walked back to his quarters. Leonard punches the pin into the keypad and the door opens to reveal an empty room with just the three boxes he left by the door.

The door opened and his quarters were empty save three boxes just inside the room. “Where are the rest of them?” Y/N asked not meaning to be impolite, although she couldn’t help but feel that she came off that way. What can he really have if it all fits in three boxes?, “Nothing else, it’ll be easy, light lifting,” Dr. McCoy assured her. “You take the one marked clothes, I’ll get the other two,” Dr. McCoy ordered. Y/N picked up the box she was directed to and began to walk out the door, she heard his footsteps follow behind her shortly. It’s not that it was a very long walk to begin with, but it certainly felt a lot longer when she was just staring at a cardboard box and hoping she didn’t run into anything. Y/N put down the box and pressed the pin into the keypad before kicking the box the rest of the way in the door.

This sound is awesome, it’s what I’ve been listening to the entire time I’ve been writing this fic.

[judgeanon]

Plastic Skies of Betrayal - Model 12: F-5E Tiger II “Area 88″

So this model is a little special. I know I said the same thing about the last one, but while the Raptor build came with a heavy dose of anxiety and frustrations, the next build turned out to be a nice planetary alignment of materials and people all coming together in an incredibly rewarding project. Just like the Raptor, however, talking about it involves talking about other things first. In this case, a late 70s manga that set up camp in my brain months ago and refuses to leave. 

Have you ever heard of AREA 88? If not, you’re about to.

So there’s this plane called the Northrop F-5 Tiger II, which I’d actually never heard about until I played Ace Combat 5: The Unsung War. That game famously starts you off in an F-5 and locks you there for the first four or five missions, so I became pretty well-acquainted with this tiny little fighter. Some people might recognize its shape from the original TOP GUN, where it was painted black and used as a stand-in for Russian MiG planes, but on the other side of the Pacific, a lot of people know it best as one of the signature planes of one Shin Kazama.

Shin is the protagonist of AREA 88, a manga by Kaoru Shintani that started all the way in 1979 and ended in 1986, the same year TOP GUN came out. I first heard about it while looking at some model kits, and since I was (and in a lot of ways still am) elbows deep in fighter jets at that time, I started to dig a bit deeper. Three OVAs and half a manga series later, I was absolutely hooked. The air combat is fantastic and the manga pulls a bunch of incredible visual tricks to render it, but it’s the intense melodrama of the characters that really kept me in. It’s a tremendously engaging, compelling and interesting series from every angle. And funny enough, I’d actually seen it once, over a decade ago. Just not as a manga or as an anime.

As it turns out, AREA 88 had a videogame for the SNES that had been brought to the West as “UN SQUADRON”, and I had actually played it back when my computer was so underpowered that all I could play were emulated retro games. Running into the game’s source material again in the midst of a wild craze triggered by another videogame was a strange but fun little return, and along with my growing obsession with said source material, cemented my decision to make my next model AREA 88-themed. And the universe seemed more than happy to provide.

My current favorite hobby shop turned out to have a 1/72 Tiger II model for a very nice price, made by the same company that made the F-16 model I’d built some months ago. To make things even better, it was also the exact same kit I’d already seen a much better hobbyist than me turn into Shin’s plane and upload tons of great reference pics online. All I really needed would be the decals, so I asked the shop’s owner if he could get me in touch with someone who prints customs decals. He obliged, although in the end that wouldn’t be necessary.

The build itself was pretty sweet, although not without its hiccups. There was no family drama to distract me this time nor lingering feelings of guilt. Even money was no longer an object. Feeling more relaxed than usual, I took my time with it, and challenged myself to add a few extra touches. For example, taking the thinnest brush I have, dipping it in red paint and giving the stick a little button,

The other thing I also tried out was, for the first time, primer. Yes, I’m a dummy. Yes, I’m not sure how I got this far without it. But I’d never actually needed primer before until disaster struck and some patches of paint began to fall out of my Raptor model kit. I’m still not sure what caused it exactly, but priming models from now on seemed like the smartest solution. As we say down here, better to prevent than mend.

That said, I don’t think I fully understand this whole priming thing yet. Without an airbrush or a spray can, I just used a brush to coat the kit with it, right off the bottle. I’m not sure if this is a good way to use it but at least it smelled really good. And not in a thick chemical kind of way, just genuinely sweet smell. But anyway...

Painting had to be paused for a moment after I let a friend borrow my white paint, so for a week or so only the Tiger’s tail saw any paint, but once I had everything back things moved pretty quickly. I was a bit worried about the blue part since masking tape and me don’t see eye to eye. Still, it worked out alright, and any imperfections were quickly corrected with a bit more paint. Which is something I really appreciate in model-making: if you mess up, you can usually paint over it. Usually.

Like with the stick, I took the time to paint a few other little details like the position lights. Decals and weathering also worked out pretty well, thanks to HobbyBoss’ decals being really good and the plane itself being really small compared to the last couple ones I’d made.

The other thing I felt quite proud of was my paintjob on the transparent parts. I’d been scared of canopies for so long that a bunch of my first models are still purely transparent there, but thanks to a couple of really comfortable brushes and some experience, I’m feeling far more confident about it nowadays. Plus, I’d fallen in love with this shade of blue, so adding more to the plane was its own reward. And speaking of canopies, another little touch I’ve been adding to the planes since the Raptor is to give the whole thing a coat of matte varnish, but then use gloss for the canopy, giving it a nice shiny finish. Although that led to a moment of anxiety when a drop of varnish went inside the canopy and stayed there, giving it a very ugly thick white curve that I feared was permanent. In the end I went to sleep and woke up to the varnish having completely dried out and disappeared, so that’s a good life lesson: sometimes you just need to sleep things off.

So with that and a combination of black and gray panel liner, the Tiger was done! ... or was it? After all, this wasn’t just any Tiger, this is supposed to be Shin Kazama’s Tiger. It was still missing a couple of very important touches. But for the time being I was pretty damn satisfied with the model, top to bottom.

A couple of weeks passed and I never really got around to contacting the guy I’d been recommended, but then I ran into something interesting: a local hobbyist in our local version of eBay was offering custom display bases for model kits at a pretty affordable price. I’d been thinking about getting or even making a humble display base for pictures and stuff, but when I noticed that he was offering custom touches, an idea came to my mind. And that idea lead to a frankly pretty amazing moment of pure human connection.

So after I got paid, I reached out to the guy and asked about getting a 1/72 base made with some extra touches. First, he asked for a picture of the model I wanted to go on the base, so he could take some measurements. Feeling pretty proud of my work so far, I sent him a picture...

... and I swear, the very first thing he said was, and I quote:

“Oh, is that Shin Kazama’s F-5 from Area 88?”

To which my answer was “Ok, that simplifies matters.”

On top of immediately understanding the assignment, new friend even offered to throw in a little extra: a Shin Kazama scale figurine, free of charge. I said yes, of course, ‘cause momma didn’t raise the kind of fool that says no to free stuff, and also asked if he knew anyone who could help me with the decals. As it turned out, he did know a guy. And the combined efforts of three different people living nearly 400 miles away from each other all came together to make something that makes me incredibly happy.

Like everything else I’ve made so far, it’s not perfect. The tail decal couldn’t be easily printed in transparent paper, so it was printed on blue paper that’s ever so slightly a different shade than the one on the plane. But the results are still more than good enough for me.

In the end, this kit turned out to be a very welcome de-stresser. The difficult parts turned out to be a lot less difficult than it seemed, and the base and decals story is something I know I’ll always talk about with a smile on my face. In a hobby that’s usually pretty solitary, that little bit of long-distance camaraderie went a long way. And left me a very nice base for all future projects.