#and i was like hey you know who that reminds me of?

[prael]

An Oral Agreement

QWER Magenta x male reader

Masterlist word count: 3,008 Kofi(donations/commissions)

She's equal parts infuriating and fascinating.

Magenta.

No last name. Or maybe that is her last name. Either way, that's all it said on the rental agreement and her bedroom door when you first moved in: Magenta. The letters were all lowercase like she was too cool for proper grammar. You know Magenta, in the Biblical sense (and it didn’t take long).

She's always in her room streaming or recording or...doing whatever it is social media influencers do when they aren't online. But she likes candles, fried rice and catcore aesthetics. She thinks pumpkin spice season starts September 1st and she loves reality TV. Not exactly the makings of a deep and spiritual connection.

Now, living with Magenta, well, it has its ups and downs.

There are some things that never get done around here without you doing them; she rarely cooks, which wouldn't bother you so much if she at least did dishes once in a while. It doesn't help that she takes long hot showers. In a house with only one bathroom, this can really put a cramp in your morning routine.

Magenta doesn't clean the place very often either. At first, you just let it go because everybody has their own ways of doing things, right? But after a few weeks of living together, you realised that she's just...not going to do it. Like ever. So then there's nothing for it but to either live in a constant state of messiness or bite the bullet yourself.

Sometimes you feel like you're not living with a roommate so much as providing lodging for some kind of freeloading spirit that passes through periodically.

When you first moved in, you were worried about what your roommate might think of you: would they be weirded out by your habits? Would they judge your taste in decorations? Would you get along? Would you have enough space for both of you?

Those fears melted away pretty quickly once you met her. You could tell from the moment she opened the door that day (and didn't even look up from her phone) that she didn’t care.

You soon learned that Magenta is messy but friendly. She stays up all night and sleeps during the day. She's everywhere online: Instagrammer, Tiktokker (is that what they call it?), live streamer or these days she’s even on the radio and TV. She doing something for one of those things right now, with her bedroom door closed and music playing faintly behind it.

You're standing in the kitchen, staring down her latest infringement. Now, these empty take-out boxes were here this morning when you left. They were also here last night, and yesterday afternoon, and...you get where this is going.

"Hey, you awake in there?!" you shout towards her bedroom but get no response.

With a sigh, you walk over to her door and knock. Twice. Then again, louder when you still get no response. Finally, you resort to pounding on it repeatedly until it suddenly swings open to reveal your roommate shouting, "What!?" You step back, slightly taken aback by how loudly she said that single word. Her eyes soften instantly, though when they land on you.

She looks good. Not even just in a 'good for someone who hasn't slept yet today' kind of way. Just straight-up hot. Magenta wears a faded pink crop top emblazoned with an anime character and little cut-off cotton shorts covered in cookie prints. The low waistband of the shorts hangs off her hips, exposing the start of a light purple thong that cuts diagonally across her hip bones.

"I think our apartment might get condemned if you don't clean sometime soon."

Your roommate leans against the door frame. She pushes some dark brown hair behind her ear as she says, "Can't you do it for me? Just this once?"

"Just this once?" you repeat, crossing your arms. Your lips curl into a smile as you ask back to her, "Can't you do it just this once?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm always reminding you to clean, and you never do it. So guess who does it? It's not the magical cleaning fairy—it's me."

Her eyes roll skyward so forcefully you imagine you can hear them squeaking in their sockets.

"Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?" she says. "This seems really petty."

"It's not petty," you protest. "I have stuff to do and I shouldn't have to keep picking up after my adult roommate." You say the word 'adult' laden with implications. She gets your meaning immediately. Her lips twist.

"oh, I get it," she says with a smirk. "I guess it's been a while since I gave you a little thank you. Well, I need to get this video finished, so could you maybe clean it up and come back here after?"

So there's the perks. Two of them actually, as she pulls up her pink crop top and flashes you what's beneath. A pair of purple lace bra cups strain to contain your roommate's ample endowment. Pale skin pours out from beneath them, flesh squeezing together into a deep cleavage that entices you closer even as you shake your head.

"You can't keep pulling tricks like this, Magenta," you say, trying desperately to hold onto your train of thought while also enjoying the view. It helps that you know those breasts intimately. Hell, you've worshipped those breasts. They've spilt around your hands, smothered your face and laid upon your thighs. You know what the soft warmth inside each cup feels like. And, God, they feel really fucking good.

"I really appreciate your help and everything," she says, her bottom lip suddenly pushing out into a cute pout that goes well beyond suggestive. "And I'd like to show you just how much I appreciate it..."

Your resolve lasts right up until Magenta runs a finger down one of her tits to tease along the edge of the lacy purple material. That's when you give up. There's no point in fighting anymore—she has won this battle (just like all others).

"Just go finish your work already," you finally say, letting out a sigh.

Magenta smiles and giggles, lowering her shirt. "Thanks. Love ya!"

With a wink, she slips back into her room. You stand alone for several seconds before shaking your head. Back to cleaning, then.

-

It's not exactly easy to focus on sorting the recycling into the correct bins when your roommate has just reminded you how nice her tits are. They're on your mind a lot, to be honest. More than they should be probably. Sometimes they're on your cock, though not as often as they should be. Probably.

You're counting your blessings that none of the neighbours are doing late-night recycling because then you'd have to explain why your face is red and your pants are bulging.

That doesn't stop the occasional glance towards your neighbour's house, where Mrs Kim likes to smoke on her front porch some nights. You think she smokes more than she should, but that's really none of your business. Her watching you from across the street, however, is very much your business, so you peek over your shoulder once in a while to check if she's spying. Again. Or still. Whatever.

One last box. The light outside is fading rapidly, but you can just barely make out that it comes from...the Greek place you love?

Oh. Oh no. Did she eat gyros and not bring you any? Damn, that girl knows how to be cruel!

When the recycling is finally squared away you dust off your hands. It's a symbolic gesture since all you've done is shove cardboard and glass into the right bins, but it makes you feel accomplished nonetheless.

Back in the apartment and lock the door behind you.

"There you are. Where have you been?"

"The bins, have you ever seen them before?" You mock while still fiddling with the lock chain.

"That was quick," comes her response. Your eyes follow the sound of her voice. Magenta is lying upside-down on the couch. She swings her feet lazily in the air while looking at something on her phone. Her dark hair cascades nearly to the floor. Those short shorts mean you can see most of her long legs. Then there's the curve of her hip, the crease of her thigh... "Get over here."

It's a rare occasion that Magenta voluntarily puts her phone down, yet she does just that as you walk over. The closer you get, the more enticing her position becomes: laying across the couch, head tipped backwards off the cushions to watch you approach her.

"So," she says. Her fingertips brush over the exposed skin of her belly. The fingers trace lines up and across her abdomen, moving between the edge of her shorts and her top. The motion catches your eye—and she knows it. "I owe you, don't I?" Her eyelids flutter innocently. Or rather, far less than innocently.

"For today? Yeah. Definitely." You clear your throat and try again, "For quite a few days, actually."

"Quite a few," she echoes in agreement. Her hand continues to crawl upward until it reaches the peak of her breasts rising beneath her faded pink crop top. The movement presses the supple skin together in a way that has you standing right in front of her before you even realize you've walked over.

She pushes them hard together before letting them settle back to normal. Gravity spreads them apart, flesh pouring across her chest from the tightly gathered fabric keeping them barely contained. She reaches out over her head, to you, and grabs you by the belt buckle. Pulls you forward until you are stood over her. Even though she's upside down, she makes such effortless work of unbuckling the leather strap that you barely notice. One second it's on; the next it's flapping loose.

It takes only two sharp tugs to force your pants and boxers down past your knees. Magenta doesn't waste any time reaching out to touch your cock, gently running her hands over it until she can wrap her entire hand around the warm shaft and pull you until you fall to your knees. Her head hangs right in front your your length, and you see the teasing sparkle in her eye even upside down.

Her hot breath hits the skin of your bare cock. Lips press a series of soft, wet kisses down from your tip towards your balls. Then back up again, trailing even more tiny pecks that leave your skin tingling. You let your cock nudge against her cheek, feeling it slide along the smooth skin.

With both hands wrapped around your cock, Magenta holds your tip right in front of her mouth. Her tongue sticks out from between her lips, slowly, methodically lapping circles around the crown of your cock.

"Oh, God," you mutter, and you need to hold onto something, anything. First, it's the couch, then it's her tits.

Your hand lands heavily atop the nearest swell of flesh and squeezes tight, pushing it further out of her crop top. She hums approvingly at the groping and wraps her lips around your cockhead. Suckles sweetly. Slurps noisily until spit pools at the corner of her stretched lips.

She lets gravity help guide your cock into her waiting mouth. The further you slip inside, the more she relaxes her jaw to accept you. But then she reaches up and pulls on your hips. You glide up against her grateful tongue. Until her nose meets your stomach. She gags. It's so fucking lewd.

The whole thing makes you squeeze her chest harder. So big in your palm and yet somehow always bigger than you remember. You forget sometimes just how incredible these tits are. When they bounce in a video she's recorded, you remember—but never quite how heavy they are when you hold them; the way they give to your grasp in exactly the right amount; or the way her nipple puckers just slightly as it stiffens beneath your kneading grip.

"You're so sexy like this," you say.

The compliment elicits an appreciative groan from Magenta. Her head moves with your hips now, bobbing to meet each thrust, spit dripping down her cheeks. The messiness of the sloppy blowjob matches her other personality traits frighteningly well.

With her head pinned and her arms on you, you're free to pull up her shirt and expose her. The dirty minx has taken off her bra, so the expanse of her milky skin greets you. You cup them in each palm, feeling the heft of them, squeezing them greedily. They push back, moulding into the shape of your desire, and she moans, a low guttural note vibrating right through your length.

Her body writhes beneath your attention. Her thighs spread outwards, feet rolling at the ankle in time with each gently guided thrust into her throat. Fingers squeeze you, scratching lightly at the skin above your ass to encourage you deeper inside her hungry maw. Deeper into her throat until she chokes—

You let up, panting, admiring the sight of her stretched out for your viewing pleasure. Her eyes flutter open, looking up at you from her upside-down position. The intensity in them draws you in again.

"Oh shit," you groan as you drive into her, plunging your cock balls deep until her purple-painted nails dig into the small of your back. You pump faster, lost in the warm embrace of her greedy sucking.

Magenta squirms beneath you, whining and groaning and bucking, begging you for more. Her cunt must be throbbing with anticipation. Poor thing wants your cum. You can tell.

You want her tits.

She gasps when you fully withdraw from her mouth. Her face is a fucking mess of saliva and smudged makeup. Before she can question you, you reposition yourself in front of her, straddling her beautiful face as you lower your rigid length between her breasts.

She's quick to pick up what you're putting down. With both hands pressing the creamy flesh of her boobs inward, she creates a tunnel for you to slide your dick into.

It feels as good as it looks. Soft pressure envelops your slick length, wrapping around the sensitive skin and creating a delightful sleeve for you to hump into. You can't get enough.

As soon as you hit a good pace, fucking your roommate's chest hard and fast, she starts giggling.

"What?" you ask.

"It tickles." Her laugh is breathy but not as loud as it usually is. "Keep going."

So you do. Thrust after thrust you plunge deeper, drawing more and more of yourself into the valley between her perfect tits. The more you use her, the further she parts her legs that run up the back of the sofa. Soft thighs splayed for nothing but display. Then, just as you start to admire them, she clenches them together. Your eyes trace down the pale skin until they arrive at her crotch where the bottoms of her cookie-patterned shorts have ridden up against her wet slit. She's gyrating her hips in all sorts of directions and rubbing herself against the material in some attempt to satiate her growing needs.

The soft flesh of her midriff jiggles between the thrusting into her tits and the twisting of her hips below. You can't stop staring. Fuck. How does this girl have every single curve?

At first, you try holding back—you want this to last longer. But after a few seconds, you realize you can't fight this feeling. Not when you've got such a good view. And certainly not with her nipples so hard under the press of your thumbs. She arches up when you pinch them, and you know you're done for.

And then, as if she can feel it by the way you're thrusting, she begins to coo and beg under you. She knows she's getting you close, and she wants it. Bad.

"Cum on me," she coaxes sweetly, the words barely audible over the slapping sounds. "I've been so bad, baby. You deserve to paint my body."

That's all it takes. That final little plea. Your eyes roll back, your hips snap forward and your cock explodes. Thick ropes over her body, the first reaching her thighs before you adjust your aim and finish across the plane of her belly. Soft curves take your load while she encourages you through soft, little pleasured mewls. You may have got some on her shorts, but you paint her stomach white before pulling up and jerking the final drops onto her chest.

"Mmmm, messy boy," Magenta laughs breathlessly as your cum drips down her curves. She lays there beneath you, her smile wide and wickedly innocent, one hand slowly running circles over the sticky mess on her tummy, smearing it across her skin.

After a few seconds of panting and trying to gather yourself, you climb off of her and sit back against the couch. She turns so her head rests in your lap, facing your spent and dripping length. Magenta teases you still by using her own fingertip to collect your seed and place it across her lips, then licking them clean while making sure you're watching. And fuck are you ever.

"So, about my room," she purrs, eyes twinkling mischievously up at you.

"What about it?"

"Well... It needs cleaning, and I was thinking—"

"No," you feign protest, knowing you've already agreed. "Just clean it yourself." Her negotiation will come next. You can see it on her lips. "I'm not doing it."

Magenta leans up and whispers, "But you might change your mind if you find out what's waiting for you beneath my shorts."

That damn purple thong, still visible at her waistband, calls you toward her like a beacon. "What's beneath your shorts?"

Her laugh is playful. A little shrug as her fingers toy at the hem of the garment in question. "Agree to clean my room and you’ll find out."

[dreamscapeee222]

Could you maybe do a reversal or Arevik's request? As someone who struggles with their body image the other way around.

A/n: I was actually planning on this. Now I write this for you :) I hope you like it!

You struggle with your body image

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

Vi notices your discomfort with your reflection long before you voice it. She’s observant, her sharp eyes catching how you pull at your clothes or avoid mirrors.

"Hey, you don’t have to look like anyone else to kick butt, alright? Trust me—I’ve seen you in action." She’ll say it with conviction, her tone brooking no argument.

When she realizes how deep your struggles run, she doesn’t push, but she’s always there. She’ll drag you to a boxing gym one day, not to force you to fight but to show you how strong you are.

"You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone," she tells you after watching you land a perfect punch.

Jinx

Jinx is chaotic but fiercely protective. She notices your hesitation to eat or how you tug at your sleeves and immediately declares, "Whoever made you feel like this? I’m blowing ‘em up."

She tries to cheer you up in her own unpredictable ways—drawing exaggerated portraits of you that make you laugh and reminding you she doesn’t care about appearances.

"You’re my favorite person, you know that? And I’m the smartest person in Zaun, so... my opinion’s the only one that matters."

On bad days, she’ll cuddle up next to you, her arms tight around your waist, mumbling, "I’ve got you. You don’t need to change a thing."

Caitlyn

Caitlyn notices the subtle changes in your mood when the topic of appearances comes up. She approaches it delicately, waiting for you to feel safe enough to open up.

When you finally do, she listens carefully, her eyes soft with understanding. "You’re beautiful as you are, but I understand how hard it is to feel that way sometimes."

She makes small changes to help you feel more comfortable—like buying clothes in cuts and fabrics you’d like or planning outings to places where you won’t feel judged.

Caitlyn constantly reinforces how much she values you, not just with words but through her actions. "It’s okay to struggle. Just don’t forget that you’re never alone in this."

Ekko

Ekko’s no stranger to insecurity, so he picks up on your struggle almost immediately. He doesn’t push you to talk about it but offers little reassurances whenever he can.

"You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. And no one else gets to define what’s worth loving about you. That’s all you, alright?"

On hard days, he’ll distract you with his projects or take you for a ride through the Lanes, showing you the world through his eyes. "This city doesn’t define us—neither do the things we don’t like about ourselves."

He’s endlessly patient, always reminding you of your worth without overwhelming you.

Jayce

Jayce struggles to grasp the depth of your feelings at first. He’s used to being confident and assumes a pep talk will fix it. "You’re amazing, okay? Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise."

When he realizes it’s more complicated than that, he shifts his approach, becoming more attentive. He starts noticing when you’re withdrawn and subtly adjusts his behavior to meet you where you’re at.

He’ll pull you into a tight hug, his voice warm as he says, "Whatever you see when you look in the mirror... I wish you could see what I see."

Jayce is big on small gestures, like leaving notes or little gifts to remind you of how much he cares.

Viktor

Viktor is deeply empathetic and picks up on your struggles quickly, though he doesn’t address it outright at first. Instead, he starts spending more time with you, letting his quiet presence offer comfort.

One day, as you stare at yourself in the mirror with a defeated look, he speaks softly but firmly. "I’ve spent my life defying limitations—don’t let your mind be one of them."

Viktor gently encourages you to focus on what your body allows you to do rather than how it looks. He’ll share stories of his own insecurities, hoping it helps you feel less alone.

On particularly bad days, he simply takes your hand and reminds you, "You are enough. You always have been."

Mel

Mel’s approach is thoughtful and calculated, but her warmth shines through in every interaction. She notices your discomfort almost immediately but gives you the space to come to her.

When you do, she listens without judgment, her hand resting gently on yours. "There’s nothing wrong with you," she says, her tone firm yet kind. "But I’ll help you see that when you’re ready."

She introduces you to self-care routines that help her feel confident, but she’s careful never to make you feel pressured. "You don’t have to change a thing to deserve love—not from me, not from anyone."

Mel is fiercely protective, shutting down anyone who dares make you feel lesser. Her love is constant, unwavering, and she ensures you feel it in every word and touch.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.

[ahqkas]

the night had worn on longer than you expected—one drink after another, endless conversations, and a pounding music that reverberated in your bones. now, as you stumbled through the front door of your apartment, the weight of exhaustion was heavy on your shoulders. your head felt like it was made of lead, your limbs sore, and your mind foggy with the aftereffects of a night that, while fun, had drained every last bit of energy from you. all you wanted was to sink into the comfort of your bed.

you glanced up at JASON TODD, your boyfriend, who was standing a few steps behind you, his brow furrowed in concern. he’d been quiet, observant, as usual, letting you enjoy the night while silently keeping an eye on you for any troubles. but now, the way his gaze softened at the sight of your exhaustion spoke volumes. you knew he was ready to take care of you.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper, “let me help you with that.”

you didn’t even need to ask what he meant. he could tell, just from the subtle way you tugged at the edge of your makeup, that you were too tired to deal with it yourself. his eyes softened, and before you could protest, he was already guiding you toward the bathroom.

once you were inside, jason gently pushed the door closed behind him, the dim light from the bathroom casting a warm glow over the space. he leaned against the counter, his green eyes following your every movement. you tried to muster the strength to undress your makeup, but your hands were uncoordinated, your tiredness making the simple task feel impossible. the smudged eyeliner, the lipstick that had begun to fade unevenly—it all felt like too much.

jason noticed your struggle, and without a word, he stepped closer, his presence a comforting weight against the overwhelming fatigue that clung to you.

“let me do it,” he said quietly, his voice soothing. “you don’t have to do a thing.”

his calloused hands, always steady, reached for your face with a tenderness that caught you off guard. you had gotten used to his strength, to his commanding presence when he was on the job, but now, in this quiet moment, you were reminded of the softer side of him. the part of him that wanted nothing more than to take care of you.

his fingers were gentle as they cupped your chin, lifting it just slightly to study your face. he gave you a small, reassuring smile, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

“i’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” he murmured before he dipped a cotton pad into the micellar water, pressing it gently to your skin.

you closed your eyes at the first cool sensation against your face, letting out a soft sigh of relief. his movements were soft, each swipe of the cotton pad sweeping away the remnants of the night. slowly, gently, jason worked his way across your face, always careful not to tug at your skin. he started at your eyes, where the mascara had long since smudged, his fingers soft as he carefully wiped away the stubborn eyeliner and mascara, knowing how sensitive that area was. the way he worked with such care made your heart ache a little.

“you’re really good at this,” you murmured, half-amused by how effortless he made it look.

jason chuckled softly, his lips curling into a small smile as he continued to cleanse your face. “i’m with you every single night,” he said, the hint of humor in his voice making the whole situation feel more intimate, more personal than anything else. “i guess i picked up a few tricks.”

you opened your eyes, catching his own. he was staring at you with a look so soft, so filled with affection, that it made your heart swell. you weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion or something deeper, but in that moment, you felt seen. in a way that you hadn’t expected, in a way that was rare. jason had always been there for you—through the highs and the lows, through the good and the bad. but here, now, in the quiet of the bathroom, he was taking care of you in the simplest, most intimate way. and it felt like everything.

“such a pretty girl,” he said quietly, his hands finally pulling away from your face once it was clean and bare of all the smudges.

you were left staring at him with hearts and twinkles in your eyes.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

[epicthemusicalstuff]

I CRYUNG I NEED SOMEONE TO SUM UP ALL ETM SONGS MY. MEMORY + ATTENTION SPAN IS SO BAD

Let’s speed run epic the musical so far!! (It’s under the cut cause even a summary is gonna take a bit for 35 songs-)

Horse and the Infant:

Giant horse- ATTACK! ZEUS?!?! What are you doing here? I have to kill a baby? But he’s just a little thing-

Just a Man:

This little boy reminds me of my son. Is killing him the morally correct thing to do? Yeet.

Full Speed Ahead:

Let’s introduce our main cast! Wow! Polites- Eurylochus- Odysseus! BFFs forever! We’re hungry- let’s go to this island and look for food!

Open Arms:

Wow Odysseus, you are looking hella tense, maybe you should try being nice and not so mistrustful. Look at these little creatures eating lotus fruit- wow this fruit is bad for you- let’s go to this cave to find food!

Warrior of the Mind:

Athena and Odysseus back story. Odysseus, your actions aren’t very Warrior of the Mind coded. Don’t disappoint me.

Polyphemus:

Let’s kill these Sheep!! NOOO! Scary Cyclops, we killed his sheep, now he will kill us.

Survive:

HES GOT A CLUB. He is killing us- NO POLITES. Oh, Polyphemus is asleep now cause he drank spiked wine.

Remember Them:

Odysseus tricks Polyphemus. They almost get away, and then he GIVES OUT HIS FULL NAME, JOB POSITION, ADRESS, AND SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER.

My Goodbye:

Athena is disappointed and they have a big messy friend break up.

Storm:

There is a big storm. Wow! A floating island! Let’s go!

Luck Runs Out:

Captain, you keep taking risks and not thinking this through. What happens if your plans fail?

Keep Your Friends Close:

Hahahahahaha! Here is a bag of wind! Don’t open it! Oh- the winions told you to open it? No!! Penelope- I’m hallucinating! Darn- the bag is opened.

Ruthlessness:

You hurt my son. So now I’m gonna kill most of your men. What’s this- a daring escape? Well- I’ll get you sooner or later-

Puppeteer:

An island. Let’s explore! Oh no- scary lady, she turned us into pigs! Let’s run Captain! Or not I guess.

Wouldn’t You Like:

Hey kid, this scary lady could kill you. How about some magic drugs? Totally safe and all.

Done For:

We are evenly matched- big magic fight! Wow! The magic drugs Hermes gave you really are something. Are you trying to seduce me?

There Are Other Ways:

Wow, you really are trying to seduce me. Too bad- I have a wife I love. Wait- you’ll help us? THE UNDERWORLD WHAT?

The Underworld:

We are haunted by everyone we have lost- Polites- wait- MOM?!? I’m too late-

No Longer You:

This dead prophet should tell me what we want to know- wait- what no- this is actually terrible? We came to you for help but now you’re saying you can’t help us? WHO?!a

Monster:

Maybe Poseidon was onto something, and we do have to be ruthless. Welp, time to become the monster y’all.

Suffering:

Ooo, Penelope, I love you, but you know I’m too shy. I don’t want to get in the water-

Different Beast:

SURPRISE I KNEW YOU WERENY MY WIFE. I actually did become the monster, and now I’m going to kill all your friends you Siren!

Scylla:

This is the only way home. Eurylochus, what do you mean you opened the wind bag back in Keep Your Friends Close. Light six torches- oh no, a giant monster is eating our crew. Me and her are the same you know.

Mutiny:

Captain why did you do that? Fight fight fight! Oh no- Odysseus has been stabbed. I’m hungry, let’s eat cows. Oh no, they were a gods cows. We knew that but still ate them. Now Zeus is gonna kill us.

Thunders Bringer:

Zeus is here. You can live, or your crew can live. But like- Penelope. Sorry crew. Crew dies.

Legendary:

It’s me! Telemachus! I never knew my dad- I wish I could know my dad. All these suitors want to marry my mom. I wish I could fight them. DONT CALL MY MOTHER A TRAMP!

Little Wolf:

Fight Little Wolf Fight- we are going to beat you up just cause you were in the way. WOW. ATHENA?? What are you doing here- we haven’t seen you since the second saga! Ow.

We’ll Be Fine:

I’m going to help you cause I feel guilty about your dad. Bet. We are best friends now. Go find my dad.

Love In Paradise:

Rewind- Morning! You were asleep. I’m in love with you now. Ew back away I have a wife. You’re a goddess??? Oh no- now I’m really depressed. I’m haunted by the ghosts again- ATHENA!

God Games:

Zeus- father- release Odysseus. *lots of convincing Gods* NO, YOU DID WHAT I ASKED SO NOW IM MAD. LIGHTNING BOLT. Is she- dead?

I’m Not Sorry For Loving You:

Yes I kept you trapped against you power, but I loved you- why won’t you love me back? It’s not like you have a whole literally family waiting for you-

Dangerous:

HAHAHAHA. Hello old friend! Let’s do some cool dance moves as I tell you how you will get back home. Here is a wind bag 2.0! Let’s hope you don’t have issues with it this time!

Charybdis:

Another obstacle!! But I know how to beat you!! Woo! I see home- I’m almost there! WAIT NO! NOT AGAIN!

Get In The Water:

Poseidon! Please let me get home- I already told Siren Penelope, I don’t want to get in the water! Can’t we get along? No! Drowning-

Six Hundred Strike:

Use the wind bag! I’m out of the water! SIX HUNDRED STRIKE! You’re beat Poseidon- let me go home. What’s this? You won’t. TIME FOR VIOLENCE. Stab. Stab. Stab. Next to my WIFE.

[waynes-multiverse]

I was soooooooo excited for this! *breathes in sharply* Okay let's get started 🍿😎👏

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.”

I love their friendship so much 😂 And kudos to Dory. It takes a lot to agree to this. It could potentially get very awkward 😝

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

God, I know. This is honestly what I think about the most when I watch Tracker. The whole story line is insane and intriguing and... 😅 I have a thousand questions, and there's so much you could do with it in fics. I love it (clearly) 😂🤍

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

I do think Russell knows a lot more about their past than he lets on. Also, he was way too chipper for someone who was accused of patricide by his own brother for twenty years. The dynamic between the brothers is just... interesting 👀

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

Right... 😆

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

Oh, she's going full Reagan! 😂 I sense some trouble coming from the brother, though...

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Well, I hope he already picked out his casket... 🙈💀

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

I'd be a puddle before I even made it to the damn seat 🫠

And they are literally so cute together! I'm full on swooning over here 😍

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

Ah, yes, the family business. Love that sublte hint 😆 Would be a good name for a brewery, tho 👍

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

I like that you emphasized the darker parts of his life. Like I said, I don't buy his whole "I'm happy and funny and quirky" act. There's a lot more stirring beneath the charming surface 😅 (Another thing he has in common with Dean lol)

And oh, don't we love a good cry on the first date? Poor thing 😂🤍

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said. “Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.” He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

Indeed 😂 I would've loved to be a fly on the wall when Dory had this conversation with her lol

How he very eloquently avoided talking about Colter accusing him of murdering their father. I wanna be a fly on the wall for that future convo too 🤣

And he slapped you right on the ass.

Loved that she got a punch in before even Russell got there. He might have actually killed that pig lmao

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

I'm having vivid flashbacks to Smoke Eater 🥵🔥

But his hands were gentle for you.

This line just about killed me... 🫠🫠🫠

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

I appreciate that kind of humor 😂😂

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

I absolutely can see him saying that 💯😂

He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car.

Probably one of my favorite scenes is when characters are so hot for each other they lean against a car. There's just something so incredibly passionate about it 🔥🫠

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

Oh, Russell, this is not what the lady wants to hear. Bless him tho 😂

And I figured she wanted more than a one-night-stand or fling. His job and lifestyle truly is a bit of a problem. But he wanted out anyways, so... 🤞

I loved their first date! 😍🤍 Hopefully, they'll see each other again soon and might give this another shot. I have a feeling it's gonna involve her brother's bullshit somehow 😅

Every Second Counts - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: "Permission Granted"

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 

Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.

“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”

“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”

Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.

He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…

“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.

“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”

“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.

“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 

“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.

“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.

You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.

“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”

Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.

You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.

“Goodnight,” you called.

“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.

You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.

After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.

Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.

His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.

He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.

“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.

You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.

“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”

He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.

“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”

You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 

Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 

“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”

“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”

The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.

“How much?” you asked.

He frowned up at you. “What?”

“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry—”

“How much,” you pressed.

He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.

“About two grand,” he admitted.

You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.

“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”

You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.

“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.

Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.

“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  

His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.

“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.

“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”

“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.

“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.

“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously.  

“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”

You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.

The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.

You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.

You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.

You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.

“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”

You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.

Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”

He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.

“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.

Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.

After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.

“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.

You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.

Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.

Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.

“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.

Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.

You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.

“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”

“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”

You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.

“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”

Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”

“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”

“After?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”

Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.

“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”

You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.

You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”

He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.

“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.

It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.

God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.

“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.

Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.

“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.

“What’s his name?” Russell asked.

“Charlie.”

“Older or younger than you?”

“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”

Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?

Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”

You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.

You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.

Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”

He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 

“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.

Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”

His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 

“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.

You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 

“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”

Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”

You gave a weak smile.

“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 

His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.

An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.

“Well. Heavy, huh?”

You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.

“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 

“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Come on,” you said.

He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”

“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.

Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.

And he was true to his word.

Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.

“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.

He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.

“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.

“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.

You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.

You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.

He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).

“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”

“Like that matters,” you quipped back.

You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.

And he slapped you right on the ass.

You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.

Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.

Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.

His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.

“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.

“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”

His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.

Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.

“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.

“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.

“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”

If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.

You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”

Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.

You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.

You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.

Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.

And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.

I like this, you thought. And I like him.

However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.

"I'm okay," you tried.

"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.

“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.

Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”

You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.

But his hands were gentle for you.

“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.

He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.

“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.

“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”

Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.

“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”

You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.

“She?” you intoned.

“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.

You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.

“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.

Russell decided he’d take that bet.

He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.

But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.

He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.

You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.

You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.

Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.

His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.

You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.

“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 

You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 

“How long are you really in town?” you asked.

His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”

“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”

“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your heart tugged, almost painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 

You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 

“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 

After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.

“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 

Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.

Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.

After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.

You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.

When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.

Charlie still wasn’t home.

Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.

And it worried you even more.

I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 

— C.

AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂

And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?

Next Time:

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

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Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[the-californicationist]

hi cail! this is sizzleee2 from another account 😅 i was wondering if you could possibly make a fic with anyone from tf141 with fem!reader who immediately after sex feels asexuel and gets a little distant, doesnt need aftercare because shes never had any and then finds out how good aftercare feels??? idk, if you dont want to then no pressure! you r just my favourite writer and i love to read your fics!!

-sk0 <3

I’m slowly making my way through my ask box, and you probably forgot about this but I didn’t! lol 😂 I don’t think I fulfilled this request though. Epic fail on my part. Aftercare?? Maybe. If you squint. I’m so sorry. I just got too horny for Gaz. Forgive me? 🩷🩷

TW: female reader, the expected amount of Kyle sass (see gif)

——— MDNI ———

Tethered

—

The skin-searing warmth of his body left you as he finished, falling away and leaving you cold and lonely. The air of the room rushed across your skin, reminding you that he was done with you. He’d used you, and much like the tarred end of a smoked cigarette, you were filthy, you were wet and sticky from his mouth, and you were no longer smoldering from his burning affection. You had been savored and snuffed out, and that was that.

As soon as his heavy frame rolled off of you, you flung the sheet away and darted into the bathroom, ready to be clean again.

You wished you could be like those girls in the movies; the ones who curled around their emptied lovers, laying her head upon his chest, letting him squeeze and fondle her as he dozed, playing in the sweaty mess of her hairline, skirting his brutish fingers along the slope of her brow.

But you weren’t. You were something else. You weren’t sure exactly what, but your past partners had called you all sorts of things. Low-maintenance. Easy-going. Little Miss Quickie.

“Hey,” the door to the bathroom was wrenched open, and in the dark portal of its frame stood your most recent conquest: Sergeant Kyle Garrick, scowling down at you.

He was still naked, as were you, and now that the sparkling fire of your pleasure had been extinguished, it was less exciting and more practical than it should’ve been. Sure, the heavy musculature of his neck and shoulders were still beautifully aggressive. The broad span of his chest was yet as inviting as it had been at the bar last night. The deep v-cut of his Adonis belt was just as tantalizing, particularly when it lead to a softer, shinier, well-used cock, still dripping desire from its gleaming slit.

“What?” You asked, turning to face him, your washcloth in hand.

“Where’d you go? I’m not done,” he asked.

As Gaz stepped forward into your space, you turned to give him your back, watching him in the mirror, feeling and seeing his enormous arms curling around your shoulders and belly like a giant kraken, ready to pull you back into the sea of his bed.

“You felt done to me,” you shrugged, continuing to wash your face, “Was it not good for you?”

The incredulous look in his eye froze you to the spot, and the suds of your soap foamed and popped across your cheek as you waited for his reply.

He pulled himself away, unwinding himself like ribbon from a spool, slipping through you like sand through loose fingers.

“It was proper brilliant. You know it was. You were there,” he laughed, a hint of bitterness tinging the edge of his mirth, “Am I wrong, babes?” Then, his timbre darkened with a quiet uncertainty, “Am I wrong?”

“No,” you turned to face him, wiping your cheek clean, “It was really nice. It’s not you. I’m just usually Ubering home by now.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, pushing back. But he didn’t shy away. He smiled, almost knowingly, as if he expected you to say as much.

“Not much of a cuddler, is that it?” He smiled a bit wider, reaching his arms around you cautiously, waiting for you to pull away again.

You shook your head, and he held your chin in one of his large fists, lifting you up to face him. He studied you, looking into your eyes as if trying to see your mind working away behind them,

“Want me to show you how?”

You met his gaze, and you didn’t know what expression you wore on your face. It was hard to even describe the emotion you were feeling, much less name it. But, when he looked down at you, he seemed to know.

Gaz grabbed your hand in his and dragged you over to the large shower behind him. He turned the water on hot and coaxed you inside. For a few moments, you thought it may be too warm for you to stand it, but as your skin became accustomed to the steam and the heat, you felt your body relax. He didn’t bother with soaping you up or washing your hair; he simply held you against him, your head tucked into his chest, shadowed by his hulking form, covering you in the oppressive warmth of his affection and the pouring water. It flooded your senses, and you felt yourself becoming more pliant to his whims, more open to suggestion, blooming under his touch like a reluctant bud, afraid of the bite from the frost you knew too well.

Because this wasn’t forever. He’d say goodbye eventually. You’d feel the sting of loneliness one way or another. Better to rip the bandage off now and get it over with. Right?

“Hey, come back,” he held your jaw in his strong fingers, making you meet his eyes again, “That’s it. Stay with me, baby. You don’t need to go anywhere. Don’t need to do anything. Just be here, right now, with me. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know why, but you rejoiced to hear those words. There was something in the way he insisted, something in the comfort of his steady, unhurried embrace that allowed you to melt down into his arms.

When he began to rub you down, chasing the rivulets and currents of the cascading water, you didn’t feel rushed. There was no urgency. He fondled you and caressed you; he squeezed your soft breasts in his palms, but he wasn’t after an orgasm - not yours nor his. He just wanted to touch you.

You felt his hand find your tender pussy, his fingers stretching their way into your hole, still sore from taking his challenging length, still slick from the sticky mixture of your come.His fingertips pressed inside of you, and it was his turn to sigh, his body relaxing into yours, warm to his bones from how joyful he felt at being so welcomed into your hot core.

Pressing your head into his chest, you let yourself live in the moment. You were allowing yourself to be in this steamy limbo with him, feeling him as he was feeling you and yet in no rush to the finish line.

“I’ve got you, babes,” he kissed your forehead, pushing into your cunt even deeper, rocking rather than thrusting his hand against you, letting you grind your hips into the heel of his palm, “I don’t wanna stop. But, if you —“

You shook your head, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt him smile. You whispered into his chest,

“It’s alright. We don’t have to stop.”

“Come back to bed with me, then,” Gaz demanded gently, his voice holding a stronger challenge than it had before, steeled by your precarious consent.

You looked up at him, unsure if you could give him what he wanted, but you were willing to try.

You nodded, and he flipped off the water, reaching out of the door to wrap you in a big towel. You watched him dry off quickly before leading you back to bed. He climbed in before you, turning back the duvet, giving you a shadowy little burrow to stuff your body into. You turned away from him, your back to his chest. You held your breath in your lungs still for a moment, wondering and waiting, but once you felt his skin on your skin, you could relax again.

Reaching behind you, you found his hard prick and guided it so that he would slip between your legs, nestled right below your lips, curving through your chubby thighs and up against your mons. The trembling sigh that came from his throat as his cock slotted itself into place lit a fire in your chest again, reigniting the once-cold embers.

He thrust himself against you, testing the waters, waiting for you to reject his advances, but you canted your hips, letting the wetness of your hole glide against the body of his cock, licking him like a mouth as he rutted between your legs. His tongue was on your neck, his hands were on your breasts and belly, his scent invaded your nose; he was everywhere. You didn’t have a chance to second-guess yourself or your smoldering excitement because he was like the steam from his shower; he suffocated your doubts with his desire.

“That’s my good girl,” he muttered against your kiss-bitten flesh, “Use her on me like that. Just like that.”

Gaz reached down to cup your mons, his fingers cradling his head each time he fucked his cock against your folds, keeping it pressed into the slit of your wet quim, nudging your clit every time he shoved himself forward. You helped him, rocking your hips back and forth, matching his rhythm, listening to the soaked, milking noises your sex was making with him.

“See?” He whispered, slurring his words from the pleasure that he was stoking inside of himself, using you to build his fire back to a high roar, “A cuddle isn’t so bad. That’s why you gotta stay here in bed with me, baby. Give me a chance to get hard for you again, yeah?”

You nodded, moaning in agreement, arching your neck to give him more room to work his mouth on you. He took advantage of it right away, feasting on your sensitive skin, raking his sharp teeth across you like the flat edge of a knife, stinging but not ready to draw blood.

“Wanna take you again. Let me have you,” he snarled, all his gentility burning away against his blazing want.

Before you could so much as whimper his name, his hand pressed down until his cockhead was prodding against the soft mouth of your cunt, waiting for your body to swallow him whole. He held his breath as he dipped inside of you. He went slowly, inching his way through your soaked walls, drowning his long shaft in its familiar sheath, groaning and shaking from the bliss of it.

You twisted your hand in the sheets, nearly screaming from the pleasure, too full to move, overstimulated and yet begging him for more with the hungry grind of your hips.

Then, he used his heavy body to shove you beneath him, rolling you onto your belly, pinning you beneath his chest and wrapping his arms around you, stealing away any chance of your escape. But you didn’t want to escape, not anymore. All of your thoughts had been rewired and rewritten with his ink pen, reminding you that you were his to take.

“Ungh, fuck!” He bit down on the nape of your neck, whimpering in a dark, gravelly tone, “Just like that. Squeeze me, baby. Use that fuckin’ pussy on me.”

“Gaz…” You keened, feeling the edge of your orgasm rising within you like a white-hot sun.

“What?” He snapped a little cruelly, “Still wanna go home? Fuck that. Not done with you, baby. Gonna make this tight little pussy remember the shape of me, yeah? I’ll keep you hungry for it.”

As your legs began to shake, Gaz fucked himself into you even deeper, reaching too far and stretching you too wide, forcing a wall of pleasure to slam into your core, making you clench around him that much harder. You felt yourself flood with your own sticky come, and right at the top of your blinding joy, you heard him hiss against your ear, chuckling in a teasing, devilish tone,

“That’s what I thought. Not goin’ anywhere, are ya?”

[aventurineswife]

Hello, I just got an idea for a request from the Disney movie Finding Nemo, I'm thinking about a story like the beginning of the movie where Nemo is waking up his father but instead it's with Jiaoqiu and the reader, who's always been a bundle of energy but seemed to be ten times more excited than usual because of the wardance, during the 2.4 quest, he took the reader on as his student but he does view them as his own child. You don't have to do it if you don't want to I just thought it'd be cute

Guided by Small Joys

Summary: As the preparations for the wardance begin, Jiaoqiu finds himself stirred from his peaceful morning by his ever-energetic student, you. Despite his initial reluctance, he is quickly swept up in your infectious excitement and reminded of the hope and joy that still exist even amidst the hardships of war.

Tags: Jiaoqiu x Reader, Platonic Relationships, Father Figure Jiaoqiu, Student and Mentor, Fluff, Lighthearted Moments Found Family, Wardance Celebration.

A/N: Never watched Finding Nemo, so I had to change it change it a bit, hope you like it!!

The early morning haze had just begun to lift over the Xianzhou Yaoqing, bathing the serene alchemical gardens in soft, golden light. The air carried a crispness, promising a beautiful day ahead. Jiaoqiu sat cross-legged in his quiet study, his hands resting gently on his feather fan. Even blind, he always seemed to know the exact moment the sun crept over the horizon.

He had been awake for some time, savoring the stillness before the world stirred. But his quietude was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps outside his door, light but unmistakable. He smiled faintly.

"You're up early." he remarked before the door even slid open.

The response was an explosion of energy. "Jiaoqiu! Master Jiaoqiu! Wake up—oh, wait, you’re already awake! But still! Guess what? Guess what?"

The sheer enthusiasm in your voice made him chuckle. "Good morning to you too, little firecracker. What could possibly warrant this much excitement at dawn?"

"It's the wardance today!" you exclaimed, practically bouncing into the room. "I can't believe you forgot! Everyone's getting ready, and I just knew you'd want to be the first to hear about it!"

Jiaoqiu tilted his head, his ears twitching slightly at your words. "Ah, the wardance. How could I forget something you’ve mentioned no less than twenty times this past week?"

You laughed sheepishly, your energy undiminished. "Well, I had to remind you! It’s only the most exciting event ever! There's music, dancing, sparring demonstrations—oh! And the food! You’re coming, right? You have to come!"

Jiaoqiu sighed dramatically, though the corner of his lips quirked up in a teasing smile. "I suppose there's no convincing you to let me enjoy my morning in peace, is there?"

"Not a chance!" You grabbed his hand, your excitement infectious. "Come on, let’s go! The preparations have already started, and I promised to help set up. You said learning balance and coordination was part of my training, remember?"

"Did I?" Jiaoqiu teased, allowing himself to be pulled up. "Very well. Lead the way, little one. But do try not to trip over your own feet in your enthusiasm."

"I won’t!" you declared confidently, though Jiaoqiu could sense your barely-contained giddiness.

As the two of you stepped into the morning light, Jiaoqiu let out a soft sigh, the warmth of the sun against his skin a welcome reminder of life's small joys. You had been his student for some time now, and though your energy often wore him out, he found himself deeply fond of your spirited nature. In truth, it reminded him of something he thought he'd lost—a spark of hope, a reason to keep moving forward.

"Master?" your voice broke through his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"You’re smiling," you said, a note of wonder in your tone.

He chuckled. "Am I? Perhaps it’s because your enthusiasm is so blinding that even I cannot help but see it."

"Hey!" you protested, but your laughter soon followed.

As you guided him toward the bustling heart of the wardance preparations, Jiaoqiu couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude. In a world fraught with loss and sorrow, your boundless energy was a gift—a reminder that, even in the midst of chaos, there was still light to be found.

And for today, at least, he would let himself bask in it.

[inmyheaddd]

walkin out the door with your bags — grayson hawthorne x reader — part 7

⤷ “pour your glass of wine // mitchell told me i should be just fine,”

summary: you and grayson haven’t talked in a while, and things stir up in the world around you and in your mind. luckily, you have the best best friend by your side. wc: 2.0k a/n: hey siri.. play two people by gracie abrams… (said sadly) series masterlist — other parts

previously on part 6…

“he looked at you like he didn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing before he finally settled on just staying silent.

you still felt like there was a million unspoken words that needed to be said, but you turned and walked away. 

for once, you didn’t wait to see if he’d try again.

you willed your feet to move and not think about how he looked behind you, because if you did, even for a second, you had a feeling you’d turn right back.”

—

it had been a few weeks since you and grayson stopped talking. yeah— weeks. that was the longest you had gone without talking to him since you’ve known him. isn’t that strange?

it was driving you crazy, the amount of times you saw something that reminded you of him, or your friendship, and you wanted to send it to him, only to remember you couldn’t. you weren’t friends, and you had him blocked on basically everything.

or the amount of times you saw something only the two of you would understand, something that would’ve made you laugh, and just feel saddened by it. it felt like your memories were split between the two of you. 

there was a thing that was even stranger, though— he had started seeing someone. 

at least that’s what it looked like, with the posts she’d put on her social media. she had posted a picture of the back of a blonde head you could recognize anywhere in-front of the sunset, and one of her walking with someone holding her shopping bags— and the hand had the faintest scar on it’s thumb, it was almost impossible to notice. and it was a scar that only you knew the backstory to. 

there was that— and the countless paparazzi photos online— ‘grayson hawthorne’s possible new girlfriend? the mysterious blonde hawthorne has a new hot date! grayson and his interesting new friend ella spotted in…’ it was sickening. 

he would go to extreme lengths to never have paparazzi find you back when you hung out. always in quiet, secluded areas. you never thought much of it before, but now it looked like it had a whole new meaning.

was he embarrassed? did he not want to be seen with you? did he— you off your thoughts before you spiraled.

she was gorgeous, you couldn’t deny it.

and the worst part? she was an absolute sweetheart. there wasn’t a single reason to hate her.

you hated yourself more for even looking for a reason to. 

the thing is though, he was never yours. sure, he wiped the tears off of your cheeks when you cried, gave you the kisses you could only dream of, confided in you about things he didn’t tell his family, and he was your best friend. but he was never simply just yours.

besides, you were the one who made sure that any chance of you happening was gone permanently. he asked to talk, and you talked. then you went home crying. 

this was grayson you were talking about: if he wanted something, he found a way to get it. that being said, if he wanted to be with you, or even just still be your friend, he would’ve said something. 

he didn’t. 

if ella was what he wanted, then you just had to deal with it.

you weren’t ever like this, you promised yourself you would never be that girl. green and sick with jealousy, questioning her own self worth. 

but hey, you promised each other you’d be there for each other always, did you not? seems like promises didn’t mean all that much anymore. 

—

“you don’t get it, gigi.” you exclaimed frustratedly as you wiped your angry tears away. 

you had just stormed out of a club you were at with your friends. the bustling music and bright flashing lights stopped again as the door shut behind gigi, after she ran after you. the music could still be heard slightly, but it was muffled heavily behind the door.

your friends wanted you to go kiss random guys, drink until you couldn’t feel anything, and for a few days, you did. and it almost worked, but it just made you feel horrible now. a few of them even made crude jokes about grayson and ella.

you didn’t feel like yourself— you didn’t even like yourself. how could you ever expect grayson to?

“he just doesn’t care if i look pretty, or if i’m doing better, or any of these other things.” you pointed out exaggeratedly, knowing you were taking it out on the wrong person, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“you know what?” you said through a cruel chuckle. “the worst part is that he would probably be happy for me that i’m moving on, or looking better, being myself, or whatever the hell you guys say i should do.” 

you gestured to the door of the buildings where the rest of your friends sat, frustration running all the way to your fingertips.

“he wouldn’t get jealous.” you said, angry at yourself that you got jealous. “he’s a good person, and that’s why it hurts so much. that’s why i’m ‘not over it in 2 weeks like i usually am.’” you continued, almost choking on your words by now. 

you were so angry that all your friends expected you to just get over it. they don’t know what its like to feel that kind of love one day, and find out the other person didn’t even think of you like that.

to find out that he thought of someone else like that. 

and somehow, even through the pounding of your ears and burning throat, you had even more to say. 

“he’s surrounded by pretty girls every day, gigi, the only difference is he actually wants to be with one, and it’s not me. and that’s fine.” you put on your most level voice, and after a moment added, “it has to be fine.” 

you sniffled, and decided from then on you were not going to let grayson hawthorne, or more so the lack of him, dictate your life for a second longer.

gigi stood there wide eyes, her mouth opening to speak, then shutting. then opening again, then shutting. “i…” she managed, and your heart almost tore as you noticed her eyes were glossy now. 

fuck, you messed up. 

“geeg,” you took a tentative step towards her, the nickname coming out before you could even think. you held out a hand as if to stop her from moving, “wait, gigi—“

“— no, i’m sorry. i messed everything up.” she shook her head apologetically as she looked at you, her voice breaking, and in turn breaking your heart. “i— you guys were perfect friends before. and i, i— i ruined it all by trying to play matchmaker.” 

“what?” you breathed out, rapidly shaking your head. “no no no, none of this is your fault. you didn’t do anything, i was stupid, and he kissed me. those were our choices, you didn’t force anything— i didn’t mean to take it out on you. you did nothing wrong gigi,”

“stop,” she said through a forced laugh, bringing herself to smile. you knew it was a fake one, and she knew you knew. but she kept on smiling anyway. 

“it’s okay, you don’t have to say that.” she spoke through a laugh, a bleak contrast to the pained expression on her face. it was tearing your soul by the second. she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand harshly. 

“i should’ve just left everything alone.” gigi tore here eyes away from you, and to the ground. “why do i never leave anything alone?“ she exhaled through a sad laugh. you noticed she started to talk faster, and more so speaking to herself. you picked up on her hands fiddling with themselves, then she toyed with the hem of her shirt. 

“no, gigi, look at me.” you waited until her wide blue eyes locked on yours, her wet lashes clumped together. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“i did though, and now gray isn’t acting like himself, you’re not okay, and i’m the worst best friend and sister in the world.” 

“gigi,” you gave her a sympathetic look as your shoulders sagged. you couldn’t begin to think about how you could express how much you loved her.

you pulled her into a hug, and her arms stayed glued to her sides for a moment, before finally hugging you back 10x harder. 

you screwed your eyes shut as you felt her cry on your shoulder. 

“geeg, you have no idea how light my life got the second you entered it,” you mumbled into the hug. “and, i mean— so what if me and grayson aren’t friends anymore? that doesn’t matter, not as much as your friendship matters.”

gigis breathing slowed, and she was sniffling now. the thing that mattered was that she wasn’t crying. 

you continued, “he’s not the one i dance with late at night and watch shitty reality tv with in bed the next morning. he’s not the one who i laugh wicker the stupidest things with for hours on end. he’s not the person i text first when something happens. he’s not my best friend.” 

not anymore, and he probably never would be ever again.

you felt gigi laugh sadly through a sniffle, still on your shoulder. she was silent for a long moment. then she mumbled, “we’re pretty damn amazing, aren’t we?” she lifted her head and looked at you. 

“yeah, we sort of are.” you smiled at her, watching as she wiped her tears and took a deep breath in. 

“you know,” she mumbled, “i really really hate my brother.” she said as she straightened her clothes, exhaling a long breath as she shook her head. 

“yeah,” you sighed, lying straight through your teeth. “me and you both.” 

you more so hated him because you couldn’t really hate him. not fully hate him, anyway. 

gigi let the lie slide straight through, changing the subject with a laugh as she leaned forward and fluffed up your hair. 

“let’s get inside before we get hypothermia.” she took your hand and led you to the door, “our outfits are not built for the cold.” 

“oh, yeah. i know that’s for sure.” you laughed, faking shivering and clattering your teeth. you followed gigi into the doors of the music and bright lights.

for once, you actually looking forward to the night you had ahead of you. 

because, you knew you and gigi would grab your purses and go straight home, rewatch your favorite movies until sunrise, and then spend the day dancing to your favorite songs with your favorite person. and repeat until you ran out of baked goods and coffee. 

that was what healing was. to you at least.

—

“okay but like,” gigi said, before popping another marshmallow in her mouth. 

“have you seen yourself? it’s like, your eyes like— hold the secrets to the universe in them.” she swore solemnly, raising her eyebrows for added effect. “i could look in them forever and eveeerrrrr.”

she tilted her head, eyes widening as she dragged the last word; looking like she was in a hypnotized state.

“gigi, stop.” you laughed as you felt your face redden, pushing her shoulder away.

“sorry,” she didn’t let her act slip up for a single second. “i’m just a little mesmerized right now.” 

“you’re not funny,” the laugh threatening to break out said otherwise. 

“just give me a moment. i’m just committing this scene to memory so i’ll see you in my dreams,” her voice was all robot-like, she always knew how to cheer you up in the most ridiculous ways. “the day isn’t enough time—“

“shut up,” you giggled, hiding your face as gigi leaned back, throwing her head back in laughter.

you shook your head, rubbing your eyes as you continued to chuckle. once you’d both settled down, gigi spoke again, more serious this time.

she leaned her head back on the couch, looking at you fondly. “i’m sorry my brother is a d1 douche bag. if he had a dollar every time he was literally the worst person ever, he’d be richer than avery.” 

you managed a small laugh. “tell me about it,” you said, then after a moment of giggles, you spoke again. “i love you more, geeg. way more than you know.”

—

it was bordering between late night and early morning when you woke up. gigi’s limbs were strewn across the king-sized bed you lay on. you could hear her soft snores. 

you turned over and gave her a glance, and her hair was all over the place in the most endearing, gigi way. 

she’s going to struggle with that tomorrow, you thought. you laughed to yourself, before reaching over blindly for your phone, the notifications of which you forgot to silence, being the whole reason you were awake now. 

2:32 the time read, and you scrolled down to read your notifications. 

your smile faded faster than you could ever imagine. there was a crater in your chest, and a hole in your stomach.

earlier notifications:

**A blocked number wants to message you. Accept?**

— I’m sorry. — I’ve made many mistakes in my life. I can’t let losing you be another. 

**Tap here to delete this message, and all previous conversation.**

a/n: gigi my girl ☹️ sorry for the recent influx of angst help idk what happened taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

@midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10  @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams

@hermesenthusiast @moonnsstruckksworld @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm 

@goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington

[ofmdrecaps]

11/23-24/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Republic Of Pirates: Airport Con! - Rhys, Con, Nathan, Vico, and Kristian; Photo Dumps on Tumblr; Positive Comments from the Con; ROP: Fan Spotlight!; More Cast & Crew Sightings: Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Zayre Ferrer; Voting Reminders; Love Notes!

Hey all! Sorry after tumblr killed my drafts I lost all motivation because I was very grumpy so this is much later than intended-- but it did let me get a hold of a few more lovely folks so it worked out!!

= Rhys, Con, Nathan, Vico, and Kristian =

So many of you got to make it to the Republic of Pirates Con this past weekend with Starfury Conventions! It sounded like a completely bonkers, amazing con! So many cool pictures from cast and crew, and fans alike!

Sources: Con's Instagram, Starfury IG/Twitter / 2

Some shots of Kristian's awesome concert with the cast!

Source: Vico's IG Stories

And that video of Rhys and Con from Rhys---Thank you @sherlockig for bringing it over to tumblr!

Source: @sherlockig's Tumblr

== ROP Photo Dumps on Tumblr ==

There were some awesome folks who attended the convention that posted more photos if you wanna check them out!

= Crimson & Clover =

Super huge thanks to the extremely kind @crimson-and-clover-1717 for sharing these uplifting pics!!

Rhysie Pics

Message and Pic From the Crew

Source: @crimson-and-clover-1717

= London Spirit =

Also major thanks to the darling @londonspirit who was kind enough to let me share her photo dumps and this cast photo! She's going to be doing a write up and another dump soon (but needs a much deserved break!) so keep an eye on her blog for more fun stuff in the future!

Photo Dump 1

Photo Dump 2

Source: @londonspirit's Tumblr

== Some Uplifting Convention Comments ==

Source: TrixnTreats Bsky

(Also by Rhys!)

Source: Comedy Nerd Bsky

== Republic of Pirates Fan Spotlight! ==

= Unicorn Death Race =

One of our incredibly talented crewmates @unicorndeathrace cosplayed as the absolutely devastated (and devastatingly gorgeous) Widow Olivia! The cast gave a standing ovation and everything! So well done hon!

Source: @unicorndeathrace's Tumblr

PS: Does anyone know who else placed in the competition? I'd love to reach out to them!

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Rhys Darby =

Are you going to be in LA on the 6th of December? Well Rhys will be there at his RD Saying Funny Things Society! You can get tickets here: Tickets to the show on December 6, 2024 in Largo Los Angeles (Note: I could have sworn he was going to Galaxy Con Columbus that weekend but it sounds like he's not (either anymore or ever?), sorry if I gave the wrong info previously!)

Source: Rhys' Bsky

Rhys got a new phone pen and the Darby Daily Doodles are back!

Source: Rhys' Substack

= Taika Waititi =

More pictures from kokocamden from a couple weeks back!

Source: Julien MaxP Instagram

= Zayre Ferrer =

One of our Fab writers, Zayre Ferrer has been doing an "Imaginary Spin Off Series" set of posts where they are coming up with amazing spin off ideas for shows that have ended/been cancelled. Their latest is Nana-- but if you arent already following along, there are some pretty bad ass ones in there!

Source: Zayre Ferrer's Bsky

== Voting Reminder! ==

Voyage of the Damned by Frances White, and audiobook narrated by our beloved Lucius, Nathan Foad has made it to the final rounds of the 2024 Goodreads Choice Awards. If you enjoyed it and want to support it, can you please give it a vote when you have a moment? Thanks!

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! I hope those of you who got to go to the convention this past weekend had such an amazing time! Those of us on the opposite side of the world, or who couldn't make it really appreciate all the love and sharing you did! It sounds like you had such a blast! One thing I want to send is many many hugs because I know there's always the post-con funk that can happen, and I know coming down from that high can be a bit rough! Just remember to be kind with yourself and give yourself some extra grace if you're having some big feelings this week okay? Prioritize you! Things will look up again, and I hope you have those beautiful memories keeping you warm while they do <3

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Katie Abey 🌈 (@katieabey)

Source: KatieAbey's Instagram

[theclosetcreature]

Chapter 2 - A Strange Day

You wake up to a drop of water landing on your face. Opening your eyes, you see it came from a stalactite. "Wah... Why am I..." The memories of last night flood into your mind and you quickly sit up. You scan your surroundings to confirm if you dreamed the whole thing or not. You are in the same place you fell asleep in, the only thing missing is Mr. Puzzles. Did he leave or did you make him up? As you ponder this your thoughts are interrupted by a delicious smell. Your stomach growls, you did not eat anything yesterday and you are starting to feel the side effects of that.

Following the smell, you make your way to the room with the campfire and see some pork chops being cooked on it. But more importantly you see Mr. Puzzles who is cooking said pork chops. He happily waves at you and motions to you to come sit down. You do just that, now closer to the food your mouth begins to water.

Once the pork chops are done cooking Puzzles hands them all to you. "Aren't you also hungry?" You ask him forgetting for a moment that there is likely no possible way for him to eat, considering he has a TV for a head.

He shakes his head and says something on the lines of "I'm fine." You still do not fully understand what he is saying but it reminds you of an idea you had yesterday. "So I was wondering... Would you like to come over to my house? I have a book and quill you could use so that you don't have to struggle talking to me."

He nods while trying (but failing) to hide his excitement. "Alrighty then, the rain should hopefully be gone so we should start making are way there-" Wait where is Brian.

"Hey Puzzles, do you know where Brian went?" Mr. Puzzles eyes widen as he realizes he completely forget about your sheep. Oh no oh no oh no, you can not loose him again. What if you can not find him this time or what if you do find him but he is-

Puzzles says your name which causes you to look up at him. He has his claw stretched out to you. Looks like he wants you to take it. You don't know why but you trust him so you take his hand. His claw is cold to the touch. Once you take his hand you realized you are no longer in the cave.

You are now on top of a very tall tree. "WHAT THE-" You were so surprised by this that you stumbled backwards and almost fell off the tree, thankfully Puzzles was there.

Catching you quickly before you fall, he puts one claw on your back and the other one grabs your wrist. You both stayed like that for a few seconds before he quickly places you back on the tree and turns away from you. You could have sworn you saw a purple line appear across his screen before he turned away. Your face feels hot for some reason but let's not think about that right now.

"So uh, why did you bring me here?" You ask him. He turns back to you and points down to the ground. You take a look and see little hoof prints. Your so happy you can not even talk, you just make a happy squeak and hug Mr. Puzzles. He is incredibly cold but you do not mind since your body has always ran pretty warm. It takes a few seconds but Puzzles does return the hug, a bit awkwardly though.

Realizing what you did you quickly let go and stop the hug. "Sorry I suddenly hugged you, I was just uh- Thank you for your help." You smile at him and he smiles back. He says "your welcome." You think.

"Well we should probably get off of this tree and follow those prints." You tell him. Puzzles holds out his hand, which you take again and- POOF! Your both back on the ground. This time you don't fall but your stomach feels a bit queasy. You wave it off and the both of you take off after Brian.

It started as you both running together but it quickly turned into a race. Puzzles was a whole lot faster do to him having longer legs than you. You tried to at least keep up with him but he soon disappeared behind all the trees. You kept following the prints until you saw Mr. Puzzles again, he looked confused.

As you got closer you saw why, the prints just... Ended. No Brian in sight. Did something kill? No you do not think so. The ground is still wet from the rain last night so there would have been tracks from another animal. So why did they stop here. Your suddenly hit with a wave of dread. You want to leave, you do not feel safe anymore. Something is wrong.

"Hey, Puzzles can we leave. I don't want to be here anymore..." You did not notice this but you were gripping the sides of your shirt. But Puzzles noticed.

Mr. Puzzles led the way through the forest, he knew it a lot better than you did. He was pretty close to you while you walked together, as if silently telling you he was going to be protecting you from any dangers that may appear. It made you feel a bit better. But you were still feeling uneasy so you asked him a question. "Would it be ok if I could hold your claw until we get out of here?"

He looks down at you and nods his head. You take his claw, your hand feels small compared to his. Now feeling slightly safer, you both continue walking until you see the edge of the woods. Finally, you thought you would be in there forever. Walking out of the woods and taking a look around you see your house in the distance. You have never felt this happy to see your house before. Still holding Mr. Puzzles claw you start sprinting towards your house.

Puzzles is not ready for that and almost falls when you start sprinting but he recovers quickly. Now the both of you are sprinting towards your house but the closer you get to it the stronger your feeling of unease gets. Something happened while you were gone. You can feel it.

You are now standing in front of the door to your house. You don't want to open it. You know if you open it you will see something you won't like. Your hand is now on the door knob. Your shaking. Something cold touches your shoulder causing you to jump.

Puzzles quickly pulls his hand away and apologizes. You tell him. "Oh, it's ok. I was just lost in thought. I'll open the door now." Mustering up enough courage to open the door. You turn the door knob and brace for the worst. You feel a chill run down your spine as you look through that doorway.

(HAHAHA you want to know what happens next? Well too bad cuz I'm on my villain arc 😈 but actually I just want to say that reading the replies I got on my first chapter made me so happy :] I'm so glad people are enjoying this.)

[the-superoriginal]

It's a tic

A/N: Maked Bucky a neighbour, because I thought it would just make the most sense and sprinkled a tiny bit of Angst in it. I really hope you like it through, dear Anon!

Request: Hey....... Do you think you can write a Bucky Barnes x reader, with the reader having tics or a tic disorder like tourettes? Preferably motor tics, like jerking of the head or winking the eyes, but it's your pick of course. I've got a lot of painful tics like those but I can't never find any accurate fics.... Everyone seems to think tourettes is just swearing all the time without meaning too, but it's really not just that.......

English is not my native language!

You were friends with your neighbour Bucky Barnes since a while. To be more accurate, since he moved into the apartment opposite the one you lived in. You weren't even sure anymore how this friendship happened, but it did. The only thing? You hadn't had a tic in front of him yet which actually was quite surprising considering how often you had spend time together. And you hadn't had the courage to tell him about it. Or, well, it actually wasn't about courage but rather the fear that it might change his view of you. What if that was too much for him?

Nonethelessly you knocked on his door after coming from school, your backpack still strapped to your shoulders. "Bucky? It's me.", you called a moment afterwards, just in case. The man had dissappeared the last three days to God knows where. So you weren't totally sure if he was even there.

Your head jerked a bit.

Just a few seconds afterwards his door opened through and you smiled nearly automatically. "Hi, Bucky." His short brown hair was slightly disheveled and the skin around his left eye was slightly darker, you noticed afterwards. He got into a fight.

"Hey.", he opened the door more so you could come in, a small smile making it's way on his face too. The super soldier smiled nearly all the time when you two saw each other the first time the day. According to Sam - who you had meet roughly a week ago - that was a change to his usual 'grumpy staring'. You had no idea if Bucky really was like that when he wasn't around you, but that wasn't your business anyways, right? You took his silent invitation and walked in, setting your backpack to the side. "What happened to your face?"

Bucky closed the door, mentally cursing that you had to ask that. Even if he understood why and amusement glinted in his eyes. "You are too young for that story."

Your mouth falled open, the protest already sitting on the tip of your tongue. But the adult just gave you a amused look that said you should just let it be and you only mumbled a quiet, "I am not..."

Bucky shook his head faintly with a smirk before walking past you and towards his kitchen. "Juice?"

You let yourself fall onto his couch, slipping your shoes off with a quiet, relieved sigh and closed your eyes. "Yes, please." That was better. You were sure you would get blister if you would have needed to walk just one step further.

Your head jerked again.

"You okay?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin, heart thumping harder in your ribcage in anxiety and shock. What should you do now? Tell him? Lie?

"Eh... Yes.", you swallowed, mentally reminding yourself that this was Bucky. You could tell him. There wouldn't be a better opportunity than now, right? And he wouldn't just kick you out, correct? "It's... It's just a tic. A motor tic disorder... thing, that I have.", you then got out.

Bucky processed the words, you could see it, then he smiled lightly. It was reassuring and gentle and it soothed a lot of your anxiety and tension. The adult sat down beside you, handing you the glass of juice. "So, what exactly are your tics? Only the jerking of the head?"

[slytherinzz]

A special game of truth or dare

Summary: after a thrilling Quidditch victory for your house, a magic form of truth or dare leaves MC and Sebastian in the aftermath of their feelings.

Pairing: F!MC and Sebastian Sallow

a/n: it's been a while since i've been on the fic train. Please let me know if you have requests! I'm a sucker for friends to lovers or enemies to lovers :)

the school was buzzing aftert he aftermath of last night’s Quidditch victory. Sebastian had been at the center of it all, of course—his winning catch as Seeker was the talk of the evening, and he had basked in the attention like a natural performer. MC had been at his side most of the night, sharing jokes, sneaking glances, and engaging in the playful flirtation that had always defined their friendship. But something about his lingering touches, his winks directed only at her, had set her nerves alight.

Did he flirt like this with everyone? Or… was there something more?

As the party wound down, a smaller group—just the closest of friends—had remained in the common room, with Garrett leading them into a mischievous game of Truth or Dare. Imelda rolled her eyes. “We’re not kids, Weasley.”

Garrett shrugged, unbothered. “If you’re too scared, you can sit out. But I’ve got a potion here that guarantees honesty—or bravery.” He waved the bubbling concoction for effect, its sickly green glow lighting up his freckled face.

Poppy giggled nervously, glancing around the room. “This is a terrible idea.”

“That’s why it’s brilliant,” Garrett said, pouring small amounts into each of their cups. “Now, everyone drink, or you’re out!”

It wasn’t until Sebastian asked Ominis whom he fancied that the game turned scandalous. Ominis , ever stoic, had answered bluntly: “Anne.”

The room had fallen silent. Even Sebastian seemed momentarily caught off guard before muttering, “Well, that’s… something to unpack later.”

Then it was MC’s turn. Garrett, ever the troublemaker, grinned wickedly as he asked, “Alright, MC, who’s the most attractive guy here?”

Her cheeks flamed instantly. Every instinct screamed at her to deflect, to choose a safer answer. But the potion forced her honesty, and the words spilled out before she could stop them:

“Sebastian.”

The room erupted into a mix of laughter and awkward coughing. Sebastian’s face turned a deep crimson, his eyes darting to hers before quickly looking away. dormitory, heart pounding and mind racing with what she had just revealed.

“Alright, folks, it’s time to spice things up. Truth or Dare!”

The group exchanged hesitant glances before downing their firewiskey in unison.

“Right,” Garrett said, rubbing his hands together. “Imelda, truth or dare?”

Imelda glared at him but chose dare, of course. Garrett grinned. “I dare you to admit that Gryffindor’s Seeker isn’t half bad.”

“I’d rather hex myself,” she shot back. But the potion compelled her to grumble, “Alright, fine. He’s decent. For a Gryffindor.”

Laughter rippled through the group as the game continued, the dares and truths growing bolder with each round.

When it was Sebastian’s turn, he leaned forward, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Ominis,” he said smoothly, “truth or dare?”

Ominous, ever composed, sighed. “Truth.”

Sebastian didn’t miss a beat. “Who’s your first kiss?”

A rare blush crept up Ominous’s neck as he folded his arms tightly. “That’s none of your—”

“The potion, Ominous,” Garrett reminded him gleefully.

Ominous exhaled sharply. “Fine. Her name was Lydia Travers. It was… underwhelming.”

The group howled with laughter, even Ominischuckling softly.

Then it was MC’s turn, and Garrett was quick to pounce. “MC, truth or dare?”

She hesitated, knowing she was trapped either way. “Dare.”

Garrett’s grin turned wolfish. “I dare you to sit on Sebastian’s lap for the next round.”

MC’s stomach flipped. “Garrett!”

“Hey, it’s a dare,” he said with a shrug, looking far too pleased with himself.

The group’s eyes turned to Sebastian, who simply raised an eyebrow and patted his lap dramatically. “Well, come on then.”

Her face burned, but there was no escaping it. She stood slowly, ignoring the teasing whistles from Garrett and Imelda, and perched awkwardly on Sebastian’s lap. His arm instinctively wrapped around her waist to steady her, sending a jolt through her body.

“Comfortable?” he murmured in her ear, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

“Shut up,” she muttered, her cheeks flaming.

The game pressed on, but MC was hyper-aware of Sebastian’s every shift and breath, the warmth of him seeping through her skin. When it was Imelda’s turn, she grinned wickedly at the pair.

“Sebastian,” Imelda said, “truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said without hesitation, his cocky smirk firmly in place.

Imelda leaned forward. “I dare you to kiss MC.”

MC froze, her heart slamming against her ribs. Sebastian’s smirk faltered for a moment before he chuckled, glancing at her. “Well, a dare’s a dare, isn’t it?”

Before she could protest, he tilted her chin gently, his lips brushing hers in a featherlight kiss. It was brief but electric, leaving her breathless and the room deathly silent.

“Well,” Garrett finally said, breaking the tension, “that’s one way to win a dare.”

Sebastian’s arm tightened slightly around her, but he said nothing, his gaze lingering on her for just a moment too long before he leaned back casually, as if nothing had happened.

By the time the game circled back to MC, her nerves were frayed. Garrett, naturally, took his chance to push further. “Alright, MC. Truth or dare?”

She hesitated, her voice barely steady. “Truth.”

“Who’s the best kisser you’ve ever had?” he asked, clearly aiming to stir the pot.

MC’s mind went blank, her heart pounding as the truth serum worked its magic. Her gaze darted to Sebastian before she could stop herself. “Sebastian.”

The silence was deafening. Sebastian’s eyes widened slightly, but then a slow, knowing grin spread across his face.

“Well,” he drawled, “I’m flattered.”

Mortified, MC pushed off his lap, her face burning as the group erupted into laughter and teasing. She muttered an excuse about needing air and fled to her dormitory, her heart in her throat.

The next morning, the weight of her confession—and that kiss—sat heavily on MC’s chest. As soon as she woke, the memories flooded back, vivid and undeniable. The idea of facing Sebastian in the Great Hall, or worse, in class, was unbearable.

Instead, she found herself retreating to the Undercroft, seeking the solitude and familiarity of their secret space. She had barely settled in when the door creaked open, and Sebastian stepped inside.

For a moment, they stared at each other, the events of the previous night hanging heavily in the air.

“I had a feeling you’d be here,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“I needed to think,” she admitted softly.

“About last night?” he asked, his tone unreadable.

She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “Sebastian, I—”

“MC,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “About that kiss… I know it was just a game, but I meant it. And if you felt the same—”

“I did,” she blurted, cutting him off.

His lips parted in surprise before a slow, warm smile spread across his face. “You did?”

“Yes,” she whispered, finally meeting his gaze. “I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Sebastian’s grin turned soft as he reached for her, his hands steady on her arms. “You just did.”

This time, when he kissed her, it wasn’t a dare.

They were so lost in each other that neither heard the door open. Ominous’s voice broke through the haze like a bucket of cold water. “Merlin’s beard, will you two get a room already?”

They sprang apart, both red-faced as Ominous smirked. “Honestly, you’re worse than Garrett’s potion experiments. Keep the Undercroft..uncristened, please.”

Sebastian laughed, pulling MC close despite her protests. “Noted. Now, where were we?”

[alicewrotethis]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭﹒

ㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis!! bokuto needs a tutor for his astronomy class, and what better person to do that than you? . ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚౨ cw!! timeskip! b. kotaro x astronomy tutor! reader, sfw  ﹒ ◠ note!!   i thought of this and just had to write it down omg probably my fav i have so many more ideas for this once i finish part 2 of my atsumu series౨  wc!! 2.8k   ˚ ۪˖𓏲 mood!! series playlist

The campus library was supposed to be your sanctuary— a quiet haven where the soft rustle of pages and the hum of fluorescent lights allowed your thoughts to stretch as vast as the stars you studied.

But today, peace shattered the moment he arrived.

Bokuto Kotaro stormed in like a supernova, all bright energy and booming voice, waving his crumpled astronomy work like a flag of surrender.

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re the tutor, right?" he asked, his grin wide and unbothered by the dozen glares aimed his way.

You stared at him, momentarily speechless, wondering how anyone could radiate that much energy this early in the morning. It barely cracked eleven AM.

Under normal circumstances, you'd have never stepped five feet in the owl-headed boy's vicinity, but for the extra credit in your classes, you would.

Bokutos coach had come to you, requesting you tutor Boktuo on astronomy as you were the only one available and the only one who excelled in the university's astronomy course. In return, he promised hed twist a few strings to get you some extra credit, and after a few moments of debating you accepted, it couldn't have been that bad right?

Wrong.

"Bokuto-san, this is a library," You reminded him, subtly looking around at all the faces watching Bokuto's rather bright form.

Bokuto blinked at you, his grin faltering for only a second before bouncing back as if the concept of an 'indoor voice' simply didn’t exist in his world.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice ever so slightly, "Right, right, sorry!" he whispered, though it was still loud enough to earn a second wave of shushing from a nearby table.

"I just got so excited! I mean, how cool is this? Studying stars? Like, actual stars!" He punctuated his sentence with a dramatic gesture that sent his crumpled papers fluttering to the ground.

You sighed, already feeling the beginning of a headache, "Bokuto-san, I don’t think you understand—"

"No, no, I get it!" he cut in, crouching to scoop up his fallen notes.

"This is serious business, I’m totally ready to learn, you’re, like, my last hope before the coach makes me sit out for the rest of the season, "He looked up at you then, his golden eyes wide and genuine, and for a moment, you almost believed he meant it.

Almost.

"Then maybe start by sitting down... quietly," you said, gesturing to the chair across from you.

Bokuto saluted, far too enthusiastically for a library, and flopped into the seat with enough force to make the table rattle, causing you pinched the bridge of your nose.

This is going to be a long semester.

Bokuto leaned forward, practically vibrating with excitement, as he spread his crumpled papers across the table like some sort of battlefield strategist, "Okay, so I was looking at the syllabus— well, kinda— and I think I get it, stars are, like, really far away, right? But also super hot? Like... the sun, but not?"

You stared at him, trying to decipher if that was a question, a statement, or a Bokuto-ism you’d just have to get used to, "That’s... technically correct, Bokuto-san, but—"

"See? I’m not totally hopeless!" He beamed, leaning back with almost contagious confidence, "Coach was all, ‘You’ve gotta study harder,’ and I was like, ‘Don’t worry, I’ve totally got this!’ And then—"

"Bokuto-san," you cut in, resisting the urge to bang your head on the table, "Do you even have your textbook?"

His grin faltered, "...Doesn't a syllabus count?"

Did he really just ask that? Where even was his bag? Why would he sign up for astronomy if he didn't even know the difference between a textbook and a syllabus?

You sighed, long and deep, feeling your patience wear thinner by the second, "No, Bokuto-san, a syllabus does not count, we’re going to need to start at square one,"

Bokuto straightened in his chair, slapping his hands on the table with a determined glint in his eye, "Alright, teach me! I’m ready!"

You raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly at the other students in the library who were now watching him like a particularly loud wildlife documentary.

"Quietly, Bokuto-san, this is still a library," you muttered, before pulling out your notebook.

He immediately dropped his voice to an exaggerated whisper, "Right, right! Quiet stars! Got it,"

You pressed your lips together, stifling a laugh despite yourself.

You took a deep breath and opened your notebook, flipping to the diagrams you’d drawn for the last exam, "Alright, Bokuto-san, let’s start simple, can you name the three main types of stars?"

Bokuto leaned over the table, squinting at your neatly labeled chart like it was written in another language, "Uh... big, medium, and small?"

You blinked, "That’s not even remotely close,"

He scratched his head, looking sheepish, "Okay, okay, give me a hint! Is one of them... shiny?"

You bit back a groan, tapping your pen against the table.

"They’re all shiny, that’s kind of their thing, let’s try this instead," You pointed to the diagram.

"The three types are massive stars, intermediate stars, and low-mass stars, think of it like volleyball players— each type has a different role and lifespan depending on how much ‘energy’ they have."

Bokuto’s eyes lit up, "Ohhh, like an ace versus a libero! Okay, okay, I get it now! So... low-mass stars would be like liberos? They don’t get the spotlight, but they last a long time?"

You blinked, surprised, "Actually... that’s a decent analogy, I think,"

"See? I’m a genius!" He declared, earning another round of glares from the surrounding tables. He shrank a little under the scrutiny but quickly recovered, leaning in closer, "Alright, hit me with another one!"

Bokuto had only taken astronomy because he thought it'd be an easy class, he saw stars all the time, in movies, and outside; even the lights in the gym looked like stars! So how hard could it have been?

What he wasn't prepared for was needing to name them off the top of his head, and he never even understood the whole constellation thing, they all looked the same! He just could never see it no matter how long he stared at the sky, and he was starting to believe it was some inside joke he wasn't apart of.

Encouraged by his enthusiasm, you turned the page to a diagram of the life cycle of a star.

"Okay. This is how a star evolves over time. It starts as a nebula—basically a giant cloud of gas and dust, and from there, depending on its mass, it can become a protostar, then a main-sequence star, and eventually..."

Bokuto’s hand shot up like he was in a classroom, "Ooh! Ooh! Does it explode?!"

You stared at him, caught off guard, "...Yes, some stars do end their lives in a supernova,"

“I knew it!" He grinned like he’d just won the lottery, "Stars are like aces! They go out with a bang!"

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped, "That’s... one way to put it, I guess,"

Bokuto was definitely a creative person you'd give him that much.

For the next hour, you worked through more diagrams and explanations, occasionally pausing to translate the material into volleyball metaphors when Bokuto started zoning out. To your surprise, he was actually listening— though his 'notes' consisted of doodles of stars with dramatic eyebrows and stick-figure volleyball players labeled 'supernova aces.'

Despite the silly drawings instead of words, the notes actually made sense, like he was keeping up and actually processing what you were saying, for the most part, it was as if he just needed the right way of studying, and that way was comparing things to volleyball— something you had no clue about.

When the session finally ended, Bokuto leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head with a satisfied sigh.

"Man, that wasn’t so bad!" Bokuto said, his grin as wide as ever, "I mean, I still don’t totally get why stars have lifecycles or whatever, but that thing about red giants being, like, the blockers of the universe? That stuck!"

You arched an eyebrow, packing up your notebook, "You do realize blockers don’t explode into planetary nebulae, right?"

He waved a hand dismissively, "Details, details, the point is, I’m totally gonna ace this next quiz, the coach is gonna be so impressed!"

You paused, glancing at his scribbled mess of notes, amidst the chaotic drawings and exaggerated labels, there was a strange kind of logic— one that only Bokuto seemed to understand, yet seemingly effective if he actually understood.

"Well, if this... masterpiece helps you remember the material, I guess that’s what matters," you said, sliding your bag over your shoulder.

"Exactly!" he declared, shooting up from his seat with enough force to make the table rattle, he held out his fist toward you, his grin practically glowing, "Thanks! You’re the best tutor ever!"

You blinked at his outstretched hand, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. Hesitantly, you raised your fist and bumped it against his, feeling the warmth of his enthusiasm seep into you.

"Just don’t forget everything we covered the second you step out of this library, Bokuto-san," You replied, trying to sound stern but failing to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

"No way! I’m locked in now," He said, tapping the side of his head, "It’s all up here, supernova aces, red blockers, all of it,"

You shook your head, suppressing a laugh, "I’ll see you tomorrow then, don’t forget your textbook,"

As you turned to leave, Bokuto called after you, his voice loud enough to earn another round of glares, you lost count at this point, "See ya, don’t miss me too much!"

Bokuto smiled widely, his papers in hand, he felt like he could really pass this class with your help, and he couldn't wait till tomorrow to show you that he in fact did not forget everything you've explained to him. He liked studying with you, you were patient, sort of, in your own way!

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading in your chest.

This is going to be a long semester.

But this time, the idea didn’t seem so bad.

You stepped into your dorm room with a small content sigh, replaying the memories of hours ago a small smile made its way onto your face, you were glad your roommate had been spending more time at her boyfriends apartment.

Boyfriend, the word itself grossed you out.

You could never imagine yourself having a boyfriend right now, you were just too focused on college and your major, You neither had the time nor the patience required to handle the responsibilities of a relationship.

Throwing your bag onto your desk you headed for your closet, wanting to change into something comfier before you began your late-night studying.

As you plopped onto your bed you felt your phone buzz, the screen illuminating your face as you read the notification.

unknown number: hey!!

you: hello?

unkown number: its me, bokuto!!

A smile appeared on your face as you bit your lip to try and suppress it.

you: how'd you get my number? and why are you texting so late bokuto-san?

bokuto-san: details details, anyway! do you have a window in your dorm??!111!!!111!11

you: yes bokuto-san, its mandatory...

bokuto-san: face time me !!!!

With a sigh you clicked on his contact and dialed his number, what could possibly be so important that he needed to call you so late? And why were you entertaining it?

Within an instant he picked up, the sight of bokuto filling the entire screen, a wide grin evident on his features.

"What did you need Bokuto-san?" You asked, propping the phone up on your nightstand while you sat on your bed.

"Your pajamas are cute! We should get matching ones!" He blurted out, you were wearing dark blue pajama pants that had stars littered on them.

The compliment made a blush rise to your cheeks, but you wouldn't let it distract you, "Bokuto-san," You said sternly.

"So serious all the time! Anyways, go to your window!" He said, and from what you could see in his background he seemed to be moving around.

With a sigh, you picked the phone up and walked to your window, "Now what?" You questioned, looking out to make sure he wasn't climbing it or something, you wouldn't put anything past this guy.

You heard him laugh, "Now open your window and tell me how to find this Orion guy!"

You smiled fondly, one of your favorite constellations was Orion, "Alright, Bokuto-san, but only for a little," You firmly said.

You opened your window and peeked your head out a bit, feeling the cold breeze hit your skin and sent a shiver down your spine.

"Cold, huh?" You heard Bokuto say, in a much calmer tone.

"Yeah," You stared up at the sky, looking for Orion's belt, "You ready Bokuto-san?"

Your gaze shifted back down to your phone, seeing Bokuto on his back in the grass, his eyes were looking past the phone and into the sky intently, the only thing illuminating his face was the moon and the subtle yellow light of an estrayed college sidewalk light.

"Yeah," He said focused, though his eyes beamed with excitement.

"Alright," You said, gently smiling as you redirected your focus onto the sky, "You’re gonna want to look for three stars in a straight line, they’re not super bright, but once you see them it's hard to unsee them," You explained as simple as you could, already finding Orion's belt once again.

Bokuto squinted, his brow furrowing as he scanned the dark expanse above."Uh… wait, wait! I think I got it!" He said enthusiastically, "Is it that one?" He pointed, seemingly forgetting you were on the phone.

"Bokuto-san, I'm not with you," You said with a soft giggle.

“Oh, right!" Bokuto laughed, the sound was sheepish but warm."Okay, okay, so, uh... describe it again? I think I’m close!"

You smiled, shaking your head,"Alright, focus on the three stars in a straight line, they’re pretty evenly spaced, and they’re just below a really bright star— Betelgeuse, can you see that one?"

“Betel-juice, yeah, I remember from earlier!" He said, his voice brimming with excitement. You heard the faint rustle of grass through the phone as he shifted around.

"Alright, I see the bright one, now... oh! I see them!"

"Really?" You asked, grinning, almost as excited as he was.

Almost.

"Yeah! Three stars, right? In a row? That’s it, isn’t it?" His voice was so loud and triumphant, it was hard not to laugh.

Bokuto couldn't believe what he was seeing, he actually saw a constellation, it wasn't just an inside joke between people in his class, it wasn't some myth, it was real! And you helped him see it, you're the reason he doesn't feel so left out anymore.

You laughed tenderly, "Yes, that’s it, congratulations, Bokuto-san, you’ve officially found Orion’s Belt."

"This is so cool!" He exclaimed, his voice practically vibrating with excitement.

"It really is," You say, happy he feels as excited as you were when you found your first constellation. "If you look north a little you'll see two brighter stars, those represent his shoulders, and if you look south of his belt you'll find his feet,"

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up, "Man, it’s way cooler when you actually know what you’re looking at, what’s next? Are there more belts? Like a whole star wardrobe?" He asked enthusiastically.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, shaking your head. "Not quite, but there’s plenty more to see, first, you might want to take a moment to just enjoy Orion,"

There was a pause, and when Bokuto spoke again, his voice was softer, almost a whisper. "This is actually kind of amazing,"

You looked down at your phone screen, and you noticed Bokutos eyes were glazed over in awe, adorning his cheeks was a pinkish tint.

"You're amazing," Bokuto said, turning his direction towards his phone screen, watching as a smile tugged at your lips. His tone was still the same soft voice, a contrast to his usual theatrical self.

He was telling the truth, Bokuto found you amazing, how you knew so much about the stars, something he wouldn't have even thought twice about before meeting you or before he signed up for the class. He was glad he did, he was glad he was failing the class because if he wasn't, he wouldn't be on the phone with you, lying in the grass and staring at the stars.

And just like that, he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, the stars didn't seem so distant anymore.

navigation !

© 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ please don't copy, translate, or post any of my work without my permission !

[dreamscapeee222]

i would like to request arcane characters x reader who is a creature made by signed, they are completely in control of there mind but are traumatized by being experimented on

A/n: I quite like this idea. I hope you like this anon ^^

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Caitlyn

Masterlist

Vi

Vi's first reaction is anger—pure, seething rage at Singed for what he did to you. She doesn’t hide it, clenching her fists and muttering about how someone like him shouldn’t walk free. But when it comes to you, her touch is impossibly gentle. "Hey, you’re safe with me, alright? No one’s gonna touch you again."

She gets that you don’t want to talk about it all the time, but if you ever bring up the experiments or the pain, she’ll sit down, her full attention on you.

Vi doesn’t see you as broken or monstrous. To her, you’re a survivor, someone stronger than anyone gives you credit for. When you’re feeling weak or haunted, she’ll stay by your side, grounding you with her presence. "Whatever they tried to do to you? It didn’t work. You’re still you."

Jinx

Jinx's reaction is a mix of fascination and anger. She’ll ask you questions like, "Did he put stuff in your veins? Did it glow? Did it hurt?" but stops herself if she sees you flinch.

She’s been through her own trauma, so she gets the fractured feeling of not being entirely yourself. Jinx has a way of making you laugh, even when you don’t feel like it, though sometimes her chaotic energy can be overwhelming.

When you’re spiraling, she pulls out her creations and distracts you with wild, fantastical ideas about revenge on Singed. "We could make him pay, y’know. Or just… forget him. He’s not worth the space in your head."

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s quiet support is unwavering. She doesn’t press you to talk about what happened but listens intently when you decide to share. Her voice is soft but firm: "What they did to you was wrong, but it doesn’t define you. You’re more than what they tried to make you."

She’s thorough about ensuring your safety, setting up layers of protection so Singed or anyone like him can never touch you again. If you’re startled by reminders of your past, Caitlyn is quick to calm you down, steady and sure.

She’s attentive to the little things, like ensuring you have time to decompress or offering a warm drink after a hard day. Her care is subtle but constant.

Ekko

Ekko doesn’t see you as a product of Singed’s experiments; he sees you as a person who’s endured unimaginable hardship. "You didn’t let them win. That’s all that matters." His admiration for your resilience is evident in the way he talks to you.

He’s patient when you need time to process your trauma but encourages you to find ways to heal. He’ll invite you to work with him, tinkering with gadgets or exploring the Undercity, hoping to help you find something that makes you feel whole again.

Ekko is fiercely protective, not just physically but emotionally. He knows when to push and when to back off, and his unwavering presence helps you feel grounded.

Jayce

Jayce is visibly shaken when he learns what you went through. His first instinct is to fix it somehow, though he quickly realizes it’s not something he can simply solve. "I’m sorry. No one should have to go through that."

He tries to show you that you’re not alone, whether by sharing stories of his own failures or simply being there when you need someone to lean on.

Jayce is big on making sure you know your worth. "What they did doesn’t define you. You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met." He often marvels at your resilience, treating you like the hero you are.

Viktor

Viktor’s reaction is complicated. He’s horrified by what Singed did but can’t entirely distance himself from the methods, given his own work with Hextech. Still, his focus is entirely on you. "You survived despite everything. That takes more strength than anyone realizes."

He’s methodical in helping you recover, designing tools or devices to ease any lingering pain or discomfort from the experiments. His way of showing love is through action, ensuring you have what you need to move forward.

Viktor is incredibly patient, never rushing your healing process. He admires your resilience and often reminds you that you’re in control now.

Mel

Mel doesn’t flinch when you share your past; her calm, empathetic demeanor never wavers. "They tried to strip you of your humanity, but they failed. You’re still standing." Her words are like balm, soothing and empowering.

She uses her influence to ensure Singed can never harm anyone again, quietly working behind the scenes to dismantle any remnants of his operations.

Mel is your anchor when you feel adrift, offering steady reassurance and endless patience. She encourages you to redefine yourself on your terms, helping you see your worth beyond the pain you’ve endured.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.

[wardensburrow]

The ask wasn’t working for some reason so now I’m in YOUR ask box 😈😈, also your totally good :DD

Omen turned back at 15s call out, looking between the two and standing taller at the threat Runner posed. Runner didn’t seem to notice, even as 15s head reeled back in pain. His eyes were locked on Omen, the need to stop Omen from hurting something he so desperately wanted to protect made him dizzy. But why did he even want to protect the thing? Did it matter? Was it apart of what they had been building? Who knows. But as his claws tore through flesh and he went to run after Omen- Omen took a couple big steps away from the heart, making Runner calm down enough to hear the thud of 15 against the floor.

Runner turned and that anger cleared up, and a look of pure guilt instead sat on his face. He went to run back over but stopped himself, holding his claws to his chest so he couldn’t possibly hurt 15 again- visibly shaking at the fact he just hurt someone— someone that actually was nice even when he could feel his body deteriorate into no longer being himself— someone he didn’t want to hurt— “I- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you-“ Runner was quickly interrupted by Omen running over and mumbling a curse under his breath, sitting 15 up and making sure that he was conscious. Protect people. That was his goal. Protect. Protect. “Hey. Hey can you hear me? Come on-“ Omen muttered, taking off the jacket he was wearing to go and wrap the claw marks, even if they healed faster.

15 felt like he was gonna pass out, barely processing that he was being held. He felt his body stitch itself back together but it didn't make the light headed ness disappear. He suddenly shoved omen away, turning to the side to puke up blood as the scent of metallic grew. He tried to stand up, holding onto omen before taking a step to runner. He stumbled across bit before seeming to recover, walking closer untill he could take runners hands in his own, ignoring the claws stained in his own blood. “Hey it's okay, I'm okay. Let's get out of here alright? Omen will catch up with us and we'll go find ruin and everything will be okay.”

He definitely wasn't in much of shape to be promising anything with how much he's been getting hurt and how much blood he has lost and he's pretty sure there's something else that's wrong but if he doesn't think about it then it will be fine. He's been through worse, it has to be fine. He gave runners hands a small squeeze, a small reminder that he was still there and that 15 wasn't scared of him, not yet.

[theartsynebulawhodoodles]

matching bracelets. Color X Killer One Shot and Art!

{Comfort, cuddles, LOTS OF KISSES ON THE FACE, relaxation, loneliness, soothing, can be interpreted as romantic or platonic, lots of affection, hugs, snuggles, reassurance}

[Tw: This contains themes of loneliness, possible separation anxiety (depends on how you interpret it), and a mention of keeping everything bottled up and hidden, Nightmare being cruel to Killer reference (not sure if these two needs to be mentioned, but just in case!)]

[Mention! Not everyone experiences loneliness the same way! This is written by perspective!]

ART AND FANFIC UNDER CUT!

“Hey, Killer, I brought rubber bands!”

Color’s soft and cheerful voice was heard as the two sat outside together. The birds chirping and the grass ruffling under Color’s feet the only other things heard in the tranquil environment. Killer looked up from the ground, tilting his head.

“what are we going to do with those?”

Killer asked, confused by it, looking at all the different colors inside the box. Color smiled and sat down next to Killer, placing the clear box onto the ground. Color’s rainbow flames swirled around like smoke in their air, a sense of joy apparent in his expression.

“Cmon, I wanna make bracelets! It’s fun, trust me!”

Color spoke in an excited and happy tone. Killer never seen him so ecstatic. He would do anything to keep that expression on Color’s face, so, he complied.

“well, if you wanna do it. How do we make them with rubber bands though? don’t we need…string or something?”

Killer asked, confused by the presence of rubber bands in this task. Weren’t they supposed to be used for hair or something? Color soon guided his hand into Killer’s, firmly yet warmly grasping it. Color brought Killer’s hand close to his. Killer’s eyes started to sparkle from the close touch, which looked like little stars in the night sky.

“Heh, see? You are excited. Look, you have stars again!”

Color pointed out with a lazy smile and a chuckle. Killer immediately got flustered and hid his face in his jacket. The little stars in his eyes always appear when he was happy, and it was still a process to let them be seen without embarrassment. Color kissed Killer’s forehead, smiling at him before opening the clear box.

“Alright, let me show you an easy pattern to do. So what you do is-“

Color plucked a red rubber band from the box, putting it into an infinity sign before placing it on Killer’s fingers. Then, he grabbed another one, a black rubber band, and placed it without crossing it onto Killer’s fingers.

“Now, you place the crossed one onto the top rubber band. Keep doing this, without crossing the new ones of course, until it’s long enough to wrap around your wrist!”

Color said with a smile. Killer’s eyes sparkled slightly at Color’s smile, looking down at his fingers. He began to do what Color said, continuing to make a bracelet. Color’s happiness motivated Killer, and he wanted to see him smile. Color began to work on his own.

After a while, the two eventually created their bracelets. Color’s was rainbow, and Killer’s was red, black, and white. Color looked at Killer with a smile.

“Look, we made matching bracelets! I know they aren’t completely matching- but we made them together.”

Color said with a soft smile. Killer was filled with joy seeing Color so happy and full of life. He wanted to see it more. Killer slowly smiled with Color, hugging him tight.

.

.

.

But it was only a memory. Now Killer sat alone in his room, staring at the ground with his hands clasped together. His eyes focused on the ground, his soul feeling like an anvil inside of his chest. He felt so…hopeless. He couldn’t sense any tranquility in himself.

It was always his weakness to be alone. It reminded him of so many things, and now it made him feel lonely. Loneliness was scary to him. He remembered what happened to him last time he was lonely, how his soul screamed out for somebody, and someone who planned to hurt him came. He was scared of it happening again.

How can he be vulnerable? Who was going to see the opportunity and just hurt him over and over again? Who can he trust? And even if he told someone, who would actually believe him? After all, people saw his friends and said he wasn’t lonely cause he had friends.

He decided to remain quiet. he knew it wasn’t the best choice, but what could he do? He didn’t want to go through the same thing again, and again, and again. But while he was cycling through those thoughts, he looked down at the bracelet. The red, black, and white rubber band bracelet.

He stared for a bit, his mind traveling through all the thoughts, all the memories he had with Color. Color would never harm him, Color wasn’t like that. So, he decided to be vulnerable in front of him, for the first time. He picked up his phone, opening up his messages and clicking on Color. He pressed the call button. It was an act of courage he was so grateful he done instead of staying quiet.

Soon, Color picked up.

“Kills? Why are you calling?”

“hey, uh, i’m in a rough patch. can you…stay on the phone for a bit?”

“Of course. I’m coming over right now, but please, talk to me.”

Killer began to tear up. The re-realization that Color cared about him circled in his mind, his heart swelling and tightening.

“i need you here. I feel lonely- i am terrified. nightmare keeps popping into my mind. p-please, come to me, i’m scared..”

Killer pleaded, soft sobs soon escaping his mouth.

“I’m almost there. keep taking deep breaths, you’re strong, okay?”

Color spoke to him. After a minute, Color arrived. Killer immediately ran into Color’s arms, sobs escaping him. Color immediately hugged Killer back, rubbing his back and softly whispering to him.

“It’s okay, I got you, I got you..”

Color whispered. Killer continued to sob, finally letting himself be vulnerable in front of someone. It’s been years since he done this. Color looked at Killer, caressing his face before leaning down and kissing his forehead.

“Let me see your starry eyes, Kills.”

Color whispered softly, worry in his rainbow lit eye. Killer hesitated, before looking up, letting the teeny tiny holes of light that looked like stars shine at Color. Color softly smiled, kissing Killer’s tears away, a bit of black goop appearing on his lip.

“I need you to tell me what’s going on, okay? You are worrying me sick.”

Color whispered, slowly guiding Killer out of his room and to Color’s room. Color knew that Killer’s room could be a danger to him at times because it could bring back bad memories of the past because of it being a smaller room, and more trapping to Killer, like he was trapped. The messiness makes the room feel more small and trapping to Killer. Once inside Color’s cozy and more spacious room, Color led Killer to his bed, sitting him down. Color placed a hand on Killer’s arm, rubbing it.

Killer hesitated, shaking slightly in fear of opening up. Yet he took a deep breath, letting the bright light that is Color immerse him in a state of comfort.

“i’m fearful, color. i feel so far away from you. i feel so far away from everyone, even horror and dust, hell, even delta. but i’m scared of telling anyone this, what if they turn out like nightmare? what if they don’t listen?”

Killer whispered, tearing up as all the emotion he buried deep down into his soul freed from its bindings of pretending everything was okay. Killer grabbed Color’s hand and squeezed it, his fingers twitching. Color nodded at his words, slowly moving his hand to Killer’s waist and slowly moving him into his arms for a embrace, knowing he couldn’t look him in the eyes in this state and just wanted to be held. Color whispered to Killer, comforting and soothing the poor skeleton.

“Killer, I want you to listen close, okay? Nobody will betray you, okay? Nobody will do that to you. We care for you to the moon, back again, and beyond the moon. I want you to know that we love you. I love you. And I always will love you and be here for you. I’ll be your greatest supporter, okay?”

Color reassured him, slowly laying down while Killer was on top of him. Killer looked at Color with tears running down his face, his hand gently clenching Color’s shoulder. Killer soon let himself lay his head on Color’s shoulder and curl up in his arms. He shivered, looking up at Color.

“you mean it?”

Killer asked in an unsure tone. Color softly smiled, caressing Killer’s face with both hands, before placing another kiss on his temple.

“Of course. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t, huh?”

Color said, a soft chuckle coming from him to lighten the mood. Killer nodded, slowly leaning up and lightly kissing the corner of Color’s mouth. Color smiled, a soft rainbow blush appearing on his face. Color caressed Killer’s skull as Killer lowered his skull onto Color’s shoulder, Color whispering a soft question.

“I know you want to be like this for a while, so, do you want me to play your favorite song? Maybe some white noise? Pink noise?”

Color asked. Killer looked up at him, the stars peeking out in his eyes again as he responded.

“no. your breathing is all i need.”

Killer whispered back in a loving and more relaxed tone. The twos hands clasped together, their matching bracelet clasps slowly attaching together. Killer’s soul lifted up, Color’s touch gentle as he caressed the soul. Color gently kissed the soul, which made a sense of relaxation pour over Killer. The loneliness was now replaced by the comfort of his beloved Color. He was now at peace.