#and the jokes really only started after the person (who hadn't been removed from a group chat because people felt bad)

[youremyonlyhope]

.

[stvrkolya]

BUNGO STRAY DOGS — putting flowers in their hair

Genre: fluff, com?

Characters: Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo, Poe, Nikolai, Fyodor

“One second! I said no moving!” You said placing flowers on Dazai's head on a boring sunday.

You were almost done but your boyfriend would keep wiggling purposely to annoy you. God knows how long you were there with him, decorating his scalp.

He didn't really care about the end result. All he knew was he was enjoying that little moment with you. It made him relax so well.

Soon enough you were done. There he was with little sunflowers all over his head. Admiring him with a chuckle, you handed him a mirror.

His eyes sparkled and he was about to touch his hair but you slapped it away lightly.

“Don't.” You frowned and strictly warned. Afterall you didn't want your masterpiece to get ruined.

He looked like fresh coffee with decoration of sunflower.

“I look prettier than the flowers in the vase! Thankyou my love.” He turned to look at you with a sweet smile that made your day.

“Hm, maybe I should keep you in that vase instead.” You joked, kissing the top of his head.

“The hell are you doing? It's been fifteen minutes already!” Chuuya groaned in boredom. You had made him sit in the same position for so long. His poor neck is hurting real bad.

“Almost done!” You quickly said. And took another ten minutes

“Finally done!” You cheered as you placed the last white daisy flower in the small braids you made.

“Cool cool now let me see.” He snatched the mirror from your hand which you were about to give him.

“THIS is what you were doing from so long?” He looked at you unbelievably.

“Cute, right?” You chuckled. You swear you could see his face turned a shade of crimson red.

“When can I get rid of these?” He asked, maintaining his tough guy personality.

“After a photo” You removed your phone to click a pic and he quickly started covering the camera.

“Y/n no-”

Ranpo wouldn't sit still if you hadn't given him his favourite candies.

He basically gave zero fucks about what you were doing with his hair. He couldn't care less as long as he got his favourite candy to suck.

You placed peach blossom flowers on his hair along with some small ribbons and Oh you swear to God he looked so coquette. Very demure, very mindful.

“Aha I'm done.” You clapped a little for yourself for how cutesy he looked. Very ladylike.

“Are those ribbons eatable? They look very strawberry flavoured.” And that was his first question.

“What? No-” You rolled your eyes as your pink princess didn't listen and bite one anyways only to throw you a disgusted look.

“This... isn't strawberry flavoured.”

“Yeah ofcourse Mr. Genius detective, those aren't for eating.”

“F-Flowers? On m-my hair? Why? I mean, it's my honour my sweet beloved, but why? What's the occasion?” Poe malfunctioned with redness.

“Nothing special. I just want to.” You smiled and made him sit.

The whole decoration process, he sat still like a doll to the point you had to ask if he's even breathing or not. The thing was he was kinda nervous to move even a bit and ruin your decorations.

You had to remind him to relax a little.

You were finally done putting small sunflowers on his head and yeah, he gave the perfect sunshine energy.

He looked at the mirror infront of him and smiled, his heart smiled more from joy though. He was just happy that you did all that pretty stuff on his head.

“I'll keep them in my hair as long as I can.” He said in pure bliss.

(Karl climbed up later and started chewing on your small flowers)

Nikolai was the one who insisted on putting flowers in his head.

One day he just suddenly comes home after work with roses that he painted red.

“Love, Look! I bought flowers! Can you place them in my hair? Please please pleaseeee”

How could you say no to that puppy face?

You unbraided his long braid and placed the rose flower crown on his hair that you made of the roses he gave you. And oh how angelic he looked.

Looking at your reaction, he chuckled.

“I know my beauty is jaw-dropping, Dove. Close your mouth or a fly's gonna settle there.” He said giggling and closing your mouth.

“Fedya, Can I place these lilies on your hair?” You asked, trying to make your voice as sweet as possible.

“Hm? Why?” Fyodor asked, not even lifting his eyes off his computer screen. The workaholic rat didn't really care about it.

“I uh... Just want to? Pretty please?” You pouted slightly.

“Fine I guess, If that's what will make you leave me alone for work later.” He sighed.

You started doing his bun and then placed lilies on his head. You had gender envy from this guy for five minutes straight. How can someone look so beautiful by being a rat species at this point than you?

“Seems like you're done Myshka.” He said, still not lifting his eyes off the screen.

“You look pretty.” You commented silently.

“Is that so? I suppose I'll keep my hair like this the whole day then.” He slightly looked at you and smiled a little that made you flushed as hell.

»»————୨୧————««

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Care for an AU idea?

Missing Hearts AU, with dark SBI and fantasy/sci-fi setting. (Dark themes, death, mind control, magic, coercion, graphic descriptions. Really I'm just throwing all possible warnings in there just in case.)

Technoblade is a soldier---one of many---who is completely loyal to the Federation's cause. He has no choice.

The Federation, once a loose association of various planets, now a military complex held together by fear mongering and nepotism, has been at war with the Empire long enough to completely restructure the government, long enough that Technoblade cannot recall a time without war or find its start, and long enough to develop some less than savory tactics.

Heartless, they are called, by civilians, by the enemy, and by the heartless themselves. Completely loyal, ruthless, deadly, precise, nearly impossible for an enemy to kill and stronger than any mundane soldier. The Heartless are feared across the Federation and Empire alike. The only group who doesn't use the name are the officials, the Oligarchy at the head of the Federation and their commanders. After all, they know full well where the soldiers hearts are. They're the ones who keep them, after all. Weaving spell after spell to keep the hearts beating, to stifle unwanted generosity, to take their fear, to bind their loyalty, to keep them strong. To kill when a soldier gets out of hand.

Technoblade only saw it once. For the most part, the heartless are kept in check by their fear and the magic beating their hearts. There's no real chance for rebellion, loyalty tied so tightly to their being that it's nearly suffocating. There is failure, though. Any heartless deemed a regular enough failure, a waste of resources, is immediately terminated.

They'd just gotten off a mission. Botched, sure, but they'd pulled off most of it and gotten out almost unscathed. Injuries hurt, despite the healing coursing through their veins, and they could damage a mission. The only thing they wouldn't do was make a heartless die.

They were in the shuttle heading back when the man responsible for the main failure collapsed, clutching his chest. Technoblade, only sixteen, watched in horror as the man choked, the rest of the ship going on like nothing was wrong. The man died, terminated for failure, one too many as he'd find out. Technoblade hadn't had his heart in years, but he almost thought he could feel it seizing in his chest, the gaping void turning hungry and tearing him to nothing. The same blank in the man's eyes.

He went to bed haunted. He woke up to the same apathy as ever, emotions gone now the Federation had given their warning. The memory remained.

(Technoblade himself had his heart removed when he was seven, when he started showing potential for the army. Strength, speed, an interest in strategy. He doesn't remember much of the process. Just the screams, and an angry tearing feeling grown muted with age. He doesn't even remember what it was like to have a heart. He lost his family in the same moment, shut into private training and missions not long after.)

It was after another mission that things changed. The operation had been a large one, with multiple units working in tandem to do... something. The higher ups didn't give much information as to the what or why of a situation unless directly relevant to the soldiers role in the mission. It's only afterward that Technoblade finds it was a raid. Countless empire citizens are taken, one of which is claimed to be the emperor's youngest son. A blond kid joins Technoblade's squad, spitting and angry and with his heart newly gone. He's from the Empire, though no one goes directly out and says it. He's trained, they say. But wrong, differently from Federation tactics, and it's obvious.

Technoblade is assigned to watch him, this kid who yells and jokes and still puts too much emphasis on names when no one there counts as a person, Tommy, his name is, as he insists, growing louder with each repetition until Technoblade caves. "Tommy, then."

Tommy isn't going to mention that using the name will lead his brother and father right to them. He's furious, stuck, and glad to see it all burn. Except, well. They don't get there right away. And as he learns more about the gaping wound in his chest (not as bad as the rest, though he doesn't know that, not as smothered in magic and death), he realizes how little freedom they have, how little personality they're allowed, how little emotion. But Technoblade is funny. In a dry, sarcastic way, like he's afraid if he sounds too real then they're going to off him. And as scary as Technoblade is, he never hurts Tommy. And Tommy isn't silly enough to believe that's because he can't. He doesn't. He's only scary when either Tommy or the mission is at risk. Technoblade cares, and Tommy, still full of rage, is going to steal him. He's going to give him a family. He's going to make sure that every bit of his humor and genius and kindness belongs to the empire, to them, to his family. Technoblade is theirs, and he doesn't even know who he's got.

The Emperor, as it turns out, is not happy with the alleged capture of his youngest, an age still technically older than Technoblade, though perhaps not in looks or maturity. The Empire doesn't have heartless, but they do have their own magic, and it's rumored to include immortality.

They strike hard and fast, capturing or killing a many forces as they can as they push towards the Federation's center, their heart. The Federation is in shambles, scrambling to adjust to the change in tactics resulting from a move they thought would lead to surrender. Or negotiations, at the very least. No. The Empire is out to kill, heedless of their own losses in the rampage to get their prince back. Someone is leaking information (the Empire doesn't have heartless, had no information on the nature of their existence, but Tommy has intimate experience with what it's like to be one, knows their triggers and controls and where the hearts are kept).

Tommy is pulled off of Technoblade's force and vanishes. Technoblade himself is called back to the capital, still with aching wounds from battle after battle as the Empire mounts their assault.

Everything is fine. Everything is within their calculations, the heartless can't die, they can't die, he can't die, all they need to do is stop this- and his men start falling. The facility is a maze, a labyrinth, meant to be entirely secure. The heartless have never known where their hearts are kept within the compound, secrets and lies another barrier to their escape, but they found it and Technoblade gets the call to head to the secret room at the center of the building. The hearts can carry information, the magic a link between the heart's enchanter and the weapon they control.

Maybe there's a fleeting thought that he can take his heart, grab it and go, escape the chaos and save his men. Or maybe he feels nothing at all, winding through halls of fallen heartless.

The doors open whooshing back to reveal the emperor and his eldest son. Smashed containers line the walls, broken hearts left to bleed.

And Technoblade feels a throb of fear. Distant, echoing out from the hearts place in the Emperor's hands. "Hello Technoblade." The Emperor smiles, and Technoblade is frozen in place. The empire didn't know about the hearts, once, but they learn fast and the stiffness of his limbs is more than fear. He tries to speak, but even words die in his throat. "We've been waiting for you."

The heart is tossed from one tyrant to the next, and Technoblade tries to breathe as the Emperor takes him by the arm. He's still smiling as he leads Technoblade out, through desolate halls filled with corpses of his men, all while false affection pumps through his veins at the direction of the hands that hold his heart.

"All for your own good," they say. "Not all the heartless were slain," they explain, talking about rehabilitation, good lives waiting for the heartless soldiers. "We'll give you everything," they promise him, draping him in medals, offering food and riches and blankets and clothing the likes of which he's never seen. "You're one of us," they swear, as another prince to the empire is crowned.

But they never give his heart back, not like they do Tommy who is whole the instant all of him is found. They never let him hold it, rarely let him see it, keep it as a prize. Never let him wander, or flee the prison of gold. And maybe it's because they worry he won't stay without the hands on his heart, feeding him devotion, binding him carefully with loyalty and fear. Maybe they worry who he would be without their touch, with emotions completely his own again. Technoblade wonders too. He'll never know.

Technoblade is a prince---one of few---who is completely devoted to the Empire.

He has no choice.

Congrats on getting the Lenn treatment because I kinda took this ask hostage for a month like I do with their AUs lol. Just a testament to me enjoying them, thank you for the tasty treat Anon.

[sodafrog13]

ok but the way gf and jacket's relationship genuinely seemed to make them better and help them heal. that's what makes me insane. like i know people have mentioned it a thousand times, but seeing how the apartment changes was such a charming way of realizing how their relationship changed over time, it will always be like. a pinnacle of background storytelling to me

the way that jacket actually starts caring abt himself, because he obviously hadn't been before she'd come into the picture. how he actually bothers to clean up the apartment and keep it that way and stops keeping his ""trophies"" because he doesn't want to reminder her of what he's capable of, wants to show her that he can be a real, living, human person too, because she deserves to know that she's living with one.

the way that gf was obviously wary of him, how she stays away whenever she can after she's first rescued because she has no reason to trust him. why should she, after all she had been through? and yet she chooses to stay. she chooses to stay know what he'd done in order to get her there. and she buys new clothes and watches TV and plays video games and makes food and sleeps on his couch and shares a (newly bought!) hamper with him knowing that he's capable of terrible things but knows that he'd never do any of them to her.

and then they start sleeping in the same room. not in the same bed, twins don't make much room for two, after all. but what a show of trust that has to be!! for jacket, who's lived alone for who knows how long and, as far as we're aware, has no living close friends to speak of!! for gf, who'd recently been removed from an abusive environment and who'd probably been initially just as, if not more, wary of any sort of affection as he was!! to willingly surrender your safety to someone like that after your life for however long has been a waking nightmare!!! to declare not only to them but to yourself that you are finally ready to let someone new into your life because you enjoy them being there!!!! fuck!!!!!

i've joked about it before but genuinely, i think gf could have fixed him. if there truly was a way out, if 50B had been willing to let jacket leave, he would have left for her. i just know it.

girlfriend really was willing to wait for jacket to get his shit together and jacket was willing to get it together just so he could have a shot at living a ""normal"" life with her. sobs

[panda-writes-kpop]

What does a demon and a function have in common? (You can test both of their limits!) - l. yb.

a/n: happy dami day! i know the timeline of this fic is messy, but just pretend that it's all okay and I will too :) also I wrote this because I was trying to understand my feelings as an aroace person towards love and I'm still really confused... but at least we got a good fic out of it! ❤️

tw: demons, undefined magic, lots of mentions of death, implied aroace! reader, a bit of religious trauma

word count: 2.6k

summary: you're in distress over your math homework and the pretty demon that helps you with it, and you're reluctant to let your heart do the talking since it ended pretty badly for your friend and her demon companion.

related fics: Demon! SuA - Tainted Love

♡ Masterlist ♡

You shouldn't do this.

You glare at the leather-bound book in front of you as you furiously erase another answer from your sheet of scratch paper. The book was a gift from a friend, one that had struggled with a demonic relationship before.

You hadn't heard from them in a year and a half, and from what you heard from mutual friends, they weren't doing too well. Although you weren't positive that the book was bad news, you had never seen your friend so desperate to remove an object from their grasp.

After doing a bit of research, you realized that it was a cursed tome. There were seven different markings on the cover, which meant that seven different demons were tied to the book. Luckily, only one had been released when your friend had opened the book.

Now, you had to be the one to safeguard it. To make sure that no one would ever be hurt by the book again.

But, as you stare at your Calculus homework, you realize that you have no idea what you're fucking doing. And at 10 p.m. the night before an exam, the tutoring center is closed and the professor is probably counting sheep while their students are stressing out.

You're well aware that it's a stupid, very dumb, unintelligent idea to open a cursed book in order to understand Calculus, but what other choice do you have? Do you fail this exam then fail the class, which would put you a year behind?

What would your peers say?

What would your family say?

A shiver down your back, from the looming threat of parental disappointment, causes you to drop your pencil and reach for the book. Your hand gently traces the seven etchings on the cover, and you notice that one isn't filled in with color. 

The demon that took my friend away.

You really shouldn't be doing this.

You think about the laundry list of concepts that you have to master by 10 a.m. tomorrow, and your decision has never been easier.

I'd rather stick my hand in an open flame than do another problem with no help.

When you open the book, you realize that you're blissfully unaware of how to summon a demon. Do you say a bunch of random words in Latin? Do you do a little hand motion? Do you need an offering?

You decide that your best option at summoning a demon that won't smite you immediately is to plead with the book.

Because desperate never goes out of style.

“Listen, I don't know who I'm talking to, if I'm even talking to anyone in the first place. I'm having a problem. …Well, it's not a ‘the fate of the world rests in your hands’ type of problem, but I still could use some help.”

An orange trail of smoke leaves the book in your hands and swirls like a tornado in an empty spot in your living room. Objects start flying around because of the tailwind, and you have to duck before you take a pencil to the eyeball. 

“Who knew Calculus homework could be deadly?” You joke as you try to not think about the magnitude of the situation that you're in. You haven't even met the demon yet, and the smoke that it creates(?) it is trying to kill you.

Not a good sign.

Once your apartment is messy enough for your demon of choice, the book in your hands shuts itself as the orange smoke starts to dissipate. 

You set the book aside as you gawk at the woman- no, demon that stands in your living room. 

She's dressed in all black, ready to go to a funeral.

You just have to hope that it's not yours.

“How can I assist you?” She softly asks in a semi-uninterested voice.

“I need help with Calculus.” You blurt out as she clocks her head at you.

“I beg your pardon?”

~

This demon was exceptionally smart, which was good for your tired, mortal mind. She also didn't kill you on the spot - a good thing, you assume, unless the murder is waiting for you on the other side of the Calculus homework.

She was taken aback by your request, staring at you in utter surprise until she joined your side and helped you with your homework.

Her voice was gentle and smooth, and you would've fallen asleep if you weren't thinking about being killed in your sleep.

“Thanks.” You rub your eyes as you set the pencil down as you check your phone for the time.

You're proud of yourself for putting your phone on dark mode (you've flash-banged yourself in the past, it's a one time mistake) as you realize that it's only one in the morning. With a few hours of sleep and a large container of your favorite caffeinated drink, you'd be fine for your exam.

“Is that all you needed? …A bit of guidance with math?” The woman sitting beside you is in disbelief as you nod your head.

“Is there something wrong with that?” You joke, momentarily forgetting that she's a demon.

“Forgive me, but the people who usually hold the tome are more demanding… and a lot less cute.”

“Okay, back into the book you go.” You toss the book her way before trying to hide her embarrassment. 

She chuckles softly before running her fingers over the spine.

“You have no idea how any of this works, right?”

“Uh-huh.” You nod your head before starting to put your school stuff away.

“Right, right.” Her eyes meet yours for a moment. “Dami.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head at her, but she snaps her fingers and disappears with the book in an instance.

Well, that damn book is out of my sight and I now have a chance to pass my Calc exam. I'll take that as a win-win.

~

You don't remember climbing into bed last night (this morning? The days are blending together at this point).

Before leaving your apartment, you say a small prayer before grabbing your pick-me-up of choice from the fridge. You might have this exam on lock.

As you walk to class, you recite Calculus formulas in your head. Partial derivatives swirl around your mind along with the thought of the mysterious woman.

Dami?

She's not a directional derivative, so you should focus on something else. 

You, at least, had the demon situation under control.

 ~

This semester, you officially renounced your academic weapon status; instead, you were an academic victim. Although you most definitely messed up the first problem (why do all of the problems have the same wording yet completely different solutions?), you had the rest of it down.

Your confidence evaporated when the two classmates behind you started discussing their answers and got completely different answers to you. 

Maybe another semester here wouldn't be so bad?

“You did fine.” 

You jump as your eyes lock with the demon from the night before.

“Sorry, sorry.” You apologize to the two people behind you as you step to the side to speak with Dami. “I like your confidence in me, and I wish I had a fraction of it for myself.”

“There's nothing wrong with having a little pride.” She shrugs as the doors to the lecture hall open.

“Well, at least there's another exam a few weeks after spring break.” Ryujin shrugs before closing the door and walking towards you. “How'd the exam go for you?”

“It was okay.” You softly shrug as you glance between Dami and Ryujin.

“You're too humble for how smart you are.” Ryujin scoffs before turning to Dami. “You new here?”

“I'm just visiting someone.” Dami winks at you, and your eyes avert her gaze afterwards.

Ryujin sighs before adjusting her backpack and clearing her throat.

“They're not interested in guys or girls…. or anyone, for that matter.”

You playfully smack Ryujjn's shoulder before she pretends to be in extreme pain from the hit.

“It's not an absolute thing. I'll know if there's someone I'm interested in.” You nonchalantly say as Ryujin checks her smart watch.

“Oh shit, I've got class in fifteen minutes halfway across campus. See ya!” Ryujin waves to you both before offering a nod to Dami. “Nice to meet you.”

She runs off in another direction as your attention turns to Dami.

“Why are you here, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I haven't been out of that book for centuries. I just wanted to see how humans lived.” Dami folds her arms before walking to you. “The world is so much different… better, if you ask me.”

“You're not like any demon I've heard of.” You blurt out before biting your tongue. “Sorry, that's probably really mean to say-”

“It's okay, and to be honest, I'd be surprised if I was like any other demon that you met. Not all demons fall from the sky, you know.”

~

It's been three hours, and you're still trying to come to terms with the fact that Dami’s a fallen angel. Who says that to someone after only two interactions with them?

Dami, apparently, because she's been watching you like a hawk as you sit across from her in the campus library.

“You think of me differently, don't you?” 

You don't look up from your computer as you tap your pencil against the desk three times.

Click. Click. Click.

“I don't.” You calmly say before writing an equation in your notebook. “I should be honest with you, though, since you were honest with me. It's only fair.”

You pause for a moment as Dami folds her arms and leans against the chair. She's trying to remain cool, but a small twitch in her left eye tells you that she's more interested than she appears to be.

It's cute.

“I had a friend who summoned a demon from that book… I don't know her name, and I don't want to. She ruined my friend’s life, Dami.” You explain your friend’s story, going through agonizing detail as told through their family and other friends.

You have to pause once to wipe your tears, and Dami offers a comforting hand as the other drops to her side. You, albeit hesitantly, take it. 

She should be cold like ice- undead, unfeeling. But there's some sort of warmth in her touch that can't be explained by the hellfire that she resides in.

Perhaps she's already gotten attached to you. You feel it too, you want to trust her. Can you, though?

She hasn't torn your arm off yet, so you're starting off on the right foot.

Trauma dumping counts as bonding, right?

You bite your lip before shaking your head, feeling the uncertainty of everything crash against you. What are you doing, trusting a demon that hurt someone that you care deeply about?

I can't do this.

“I should go.” You pull your hand out of her grasp as you quickly try to pack your things up. “I'm sorry, I'm probably shit-talking one of your friends that you've known for centuries.”

As you reach for your pencil, Dami grabs your wrist.

“I can't promise that I'm a ‘good’ demon or person,” She softly exhales before looking in your eyes, “but I won't betray you. Not now. Not ever.”

Something pounds, but it's not your head, swimming from the thoughts of your friends and the demon in front of you.

It comes from deep inside you, a feeling that you thought would be forever foreign to you. A magical feeling that “normal” people got to feel. The thing that makes them human, after all.

Your heart pounds.

This isn't you. You need to leave. Now.

Without exchanging another word, you run off into the afternoon light. You know she might follow you, but you hope she'll give you some space. 

I hope she doesn't hate me.

You need to get a grip, and fast, before you rock the boat that's been steadily keeping you afloat for years.

~

Five hours. That's the longest you can last in a little internet cafe before you put your tail between your legs and head home. You know Dami will be there, and you don't want to sleep on a park bench, so home it is.

Will she be mad at me?

Who cares? You're not in love with her, you just like her. 

As a friend. 

As someone you can hang out with. 

Someone to share secrets with.

Friends can kiss, right?

You've known her for less than twenty-four hours. You need to find where your sense of reality has gone and reclaim it before you head into your apartment.

But the key is already in your hand.

Your feet walk up the stairs without your brain telling them to.

You unlock your apartment door to see someone quietly sitting on your couch - the same spot where she helped you with your math homework.

Your stomach and heart fill with dread as you slowly take off your shoes.

She's been kind to you, and you ran off because you were upset about your own feelings.

You felt like a petulant child.

“I'm sorry for running off. I got upset thinking about my friend, and I should have talked through my feelings like a fucking adult. You're not like the other demon, just as I'm not like my friend. Feeling trapped by someone else’s opinions of you is rough,” You toss the keys on the counter before shedding your coat, “trust me, I know.”

Dami looks back to you, and the moonlight casts her in an angelic glow - she was ethereal and you didn't doubt that she was once an angel. You'd be more surprised if she wasn't one of God’s favorites.

Why was she here, instead of in the sky? 

You don't want to pry, but Dami’s the first one to walk towards you.

“I was worried about you,” She softly admits, “a demon, a former angel, a creature much older than you could comprehend, was worried about the safety of a mortal.”

When she is close enough for you to reach out for her, she reaches out her hand.

“I'm not an evil demon or a perfect angel. But I can promise you-”

“I think I like you.” The words spill out of your lips before you can truly think about what you're saying. “I mean, of course I like you, but it's not how I've liked anyone before. I like Ryujin as a friend, she's nice to me and we get lunch sometimes. But you… you're different. And being different scares me. It's not just because you're a demon, it's who you are. It wouldn't matter if you were a demon, angel, or human because I'd still feel the same way.”

You pause to take a breath.

“I'm not normal, and I'm probably not like any human you've met. I don't want a traditional romance with a wedding or kids. I don't want physical intimacy with someone who won't appreciate me. Hell, I don't even know if I want a partner half of the time. The only thing I know,” You take her hand before pulling Dami closer, “is that I want you to be by my side. As a friend or as something more. Whatever we will be, I know we'll figure it out together.”

“I want you by my side as well.” She softly mutters as you place your forehead against hers.

You're both quiet as you envelope yourselves in the serene environment that you've created.

“So, do I meet your devilish friends now, or do I have to take you to dinner first?”

Dami laughs warmly before pulling you close to her.

“Whatever you want.”

You're in deep. She has in her talons sunk deep under your skin, in less than a day. 

She could betray you.

You had to learn how to trust her.

And in time, you will.

[tc-doherty]

Book One | Chapter Six

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @bloodlessheirbyjacques @magefaery @did-i-do-this-write @marrowwife @muddshadow @outpost51 @full-on-sam @bluberimufim @unclear-contributions @talesfromtheunknowable @guessillcallitart @flowerprose

(Ask to be added or removed)

Elizabet had a yawn behind her fan.

"If you find it so distasteful, why bother coming year after year?" Asked Patrice. "Surely handsome young knights are not so interesting as to outweigh your boredom now."

She didn't think her comment was a funny one, but that did not stop the countess from laughing. "To keep track of the pulse of court, my dear." She paused to smooth a wrinkle out of her skirt. "Which ladies support which knights can tell you a great deal, and the feast can tell you even more. Everyone is already sounding out alliances for next season. Only a fool would allow herself to be left behind."

Patrice had to wait a moment for the announcer to finish rattling off the names of the current fighters - a Sir Bruce and Dame Mordecai - before she could continue the conversation. Before she had tried to ignore Elizabet, and that hadn't deterred the woman any. If the woman was determined to talk, at least Patrice might be able to get some relevant information out of her – if she could drag the conversation away from the personal lives of people she had no interest in. It was certain to be more useful than the repetitive jousting down below was interesting.

"What is the season?" She asked again.

"Runeria is disgustingly hot in the summer," Elizabet said, and fanned herself for emphasis. "New Iber even more so, with its close-packed walls. We all flee to the countryside until fall. The season is the time between fall and spring where we live here and important business is taken care of."

Patrice nodded and looked around. Most of the people she could see were engaged in their own private conversations. Only a few seemed to be watching the joust with any interest. If she listened closely, she could hear multiple mentions of the country, summer homes, parties, alliances, and marriages surfacing out of the sea of chatter.

She turned back to Elizabet. "Why did you invite me to go with you?"

"If you are to thrive in court, my dear, you'll need a mentor," the countess said. "Someone to teach you who's who and what's what, what to do and what not to do. I do happen to know all that information. It could be mutually beneficial, you would learn everything you need to learn, and I would be able to keep a much closer eye on current happenings."

Patrice said nothing. At least the old woman was honest about her intentions. That was something. But Patrice had no interest in allowing herself to become bound to this human court and their nonsensical traditions. She wasn't really sure what she did have an interest in, but it certainly wasn't that.

As before, her silence did nothing to dampen Elizabet's spirits. "You'll have to let me know your decision before the party starts," the countess said, then snapped her fan shut and used it to gesture to the far end of the field. "That's your little knight over there, isn't it?"

Patrice followed the motion.

Felisjyta stood at the edge of the sand, leaning on Vasya's saddle as she laughed and joked with the squire carrying her lances. Earlier she had still been dressed in loose trews and tunic. Now she looked just like the Runerian knights, decked in armor over a heavy gambeson. The little mountain mare was turned out in matching caparison and barding, with blue and green ribbons woven into her mane and tail.

Both the knight and mare seemed unconcerned. Felisjyta had not even spared a glance for her opponent, and Vasya was idly lipping the grass that grew at the edge of the sand.

Patrice frowned. Her end of the field held a high-strung dark bay courser. The gelding pranced and tossed his head, and danced sideways when his knight tried to mount. Felisjyta swung easily into Vasya's saddle and put her helm on before taking the field.

"Serzeks really don't produce much in the way of knights, do they?" Countess Elizabet asked.

"She looks a knight to me," said Patrice, unamused.

"Of course, dear, of course."

The announcer spoke, saving Patrice from having to make a reply. "An interesting development," he said. "Sir Braiden Collens, fighting for Lady Suzan Greenheld. Dame Felisjyta of Fellveer, fighting for Lady Patrice Drake."

A titter of surprise ran through the crowd. A few nobles in the box turned to stare, but Patrice ignored them. After a moment of silence, scattered applause began. It grew stronger as it went on, but not as strong as it had been before the other matches.

"So you see," said Countess Elizabet punctuating her words with waves of her fan, "breaking tradition is no way to make friends at court."

Patrice had just about enough of this. "Dragons," she said," do as they please."

As Elizabet opened her mouth to speak, the announcer lowered his arm and called out the order to start. The joust gave Patrice a very convenient reason to ignore the countess.

Both horses began to move, jumping directly to a gallop that sped them towards their opponent. Patrice held her breath as they drew closer to one another. Already she had seen one knight carried off the field bleeding when a match went badly, and Felisjyta was much smaller than her opponent.

Lance met shield with a crash.

Both knights wobbled but kept their seats. Vasya came to a stop on her own, but Braiden had to jerk his gelding back around. Neither lance was broken, but each knight took a fresh one before regaining their spot. They charged a second time.

Lances lowered.

Patrice watched with bated breath and clenched hands.

On the third pass, Braiden's lance hit the upper half of Felisjyta's shield. She wavered under the force of the hit. Her own strike went wild, sliding off the shield to hit him on the left side of his chest. Braiden reeled too – and fell.

The crowd cheered wildly, no longer concerned about anything except the action in the arena.

Patrice let out the breath she'd been holding and began to clap as well. On the field the two knights bowed to one another. Felisjyta rode off, Braiden led his horse away on foot.

Compelled by the twin desires to gloat and defend Felisjyta's honor, Patrice turned to the countess. "See, she's not nearly so bad a knight as you imply."

Elizabet clapped politely. "So it seems. The Serzek duchess arrived a year ago, but her knights have always kept to themselves in practice. Your Felicity is the first one we've ever seen in a tournament."

"My Felisjyta? I would not think I had any claim to her success. She's the knight after all," Patrice said. She did not look at the countess as she said it. She was examining her gown. She hadn't realized her temperature was up, but the dress now had two lines of scorch marks on it where she had rested her arms. She wouldn't be able to wear this one again. Maria would be quite cross with her.

Elizabet laughed. "Oh come now, she's fighting under your favor, so she accepts you as her inspiration, so to speak."

Patrice shrugged and ran her palm over the ruined fabric. "She was only doing me a favor." She turned away from the other woman, determined to ignore the countess once and for all. She had no intention of getting dragged into court politics!

Patrice found the tournament to be enjoyable, much to her surprise. She began to appreciate the jousting, or at least watching certain knights progress farther and farther to the top. She could understand why people would wager great sums of money on such a sport – as she heard them do all around her – and she still found the duels to be strangely beautiful. Although, the more of the tournament she watched, the more she could see just how much Johan and Rothert had altered their performances. Most of the duels that she saw lasted less than two minutes, with the fastest one being over in fifteen seconds. Nothing at all like the extended sword fight the two of them had performed.

The jousts stopped at noon for a two hour break during the hottest part of the day. Maria came to fetch Patrice from the stands. The maid tsked over the state Patrice's dress, and whisked her off to the city of tents to do some shopping.

Patrice could only follow along behind, bemused. Maria knew more about fabric and color and fashion than she did, so she merely stood by while the maid haggled and bargained with her money and came away with armful after armful of fabric to be sent to the castle.

"Am I really going to need so much?" Patrice asked.

"You will if you keep destroying your gowns like that!" Maria scolded. "Dragons probably can't help being hot-blooded but please try to control yourself." She held up a roll of red silk to inspect. "You'll also need gowns if you intend to join the court to a greater degree. Ladies tend to frown on wearing the same four dresses to every occasion."

"But-"

Maria put down the red silk and pulled out a roll of dark violet instead. "We'll have to find a way to spruce them up a bit. A little embroidery here and there, maybe with pearls and semi precious stones. And we'll have to get you some more jewelry as well."

"But-"

"I know you prefer simple clothing but they won't let you get away with it, even if you are a dragon." Maria set down a roll of gold mirrored silk next to the purple and gave the vendor measurements to cut.

Patrice gave this particular battle up for lost. "If you insist," she said with a sigh. "But if I'm to let you and the others dress me up in this ridiculous frippery, I demand that you also purchase me some boots, or at least shoes like yours. I hate wearing these things."

It was Maria's turn to sigh, but she didn't even look up; she had already moved on to studying another type of fabric in a deep blue. "Fine, fine. I'll see what I can do. But you'll need to have a proper gown matching Dame Felicity's colors for the feast at the end of the festival. With Anna and Elaine helping me, we ought to be able to come up with something. As long as you agree to actually wear it."

"A bargain is a bargain. If you keep your end, I'll keep mine. Dragons are creatures of their word, after all." Patrice turned and began to watch the crowd instead, a chaotic sea of colors and sound whirling from booth to booth. All around were men and women just like Maria – shopping and gossiping and talking about the court. There was no one there who did not look utterly thrilled to be there, save for the occasional protesting child. Patrice folded her arms and tried to contain her impatience.

Maria must've read something in her body language. The maid shook her head. "Why don't you go visit with Felicity? I can work here by myself as long as you trust me."

"You're the only one here who understands all these confounded rules, you'll make far better choices than I would," Patrice said, relief evident in her voice. She left Maria alone and made her way towards the northwest corner of the estate.

Patrice was not surprised to find Felisjyta tending to her horse. The Serzek knight had stripped out of her armor and gambeson. Vasya too was temporarily divested of armor. Sweat plastered Felisjyta's hair to her head and turned the mare's coat from gray to black.

Patrice slowed as she neared the pair, but this time the mare did nothing more than flick one ear forward in interest as she approached. Encouraged, Patrice walked right up and stroked Vasya's damp neck.

Felisjyta looked up from where she was brushing the mare's flank. "Back again?"

"I wanted to congratulate you," said Patrice, "and also to escape from shopping. Maria is determined to spend as much of my money as possible."

"I didn't realize you were as well-off as that," Felisjyta said. She ran a wooden comb across Vasya's back with long, even strokes.

Patrice shrugged. "When I first came here, the court steward returned to me all of my mother's gold which had been stolen. They also gave me custody of the land in the Old Kingdom – though as far as dragons are concerned, land and treasures both are up for grabs so long as no one is there to defend them."

"Humans see things differently," Felisjyta said. "No one here seems to have much interest in the Old Kingdom, they say it's cursed. So it didn't cost them much to give it back to you. They were probably just hoping that doing such a thing would appease your anger." She shrugged, then switched topics. "Are you going to stay and watch the rest of the tournament?"

"Do you think you'll win?" Patrice asked.

The knight laughed. "Win? Who knows. I'd like to." She tossed the wooden brush down onto the grass and tapped the mare's shoulders. Vasya followed her to a water trough in the middle of camp, where several other horses were drinking.

Patrice followed them, careful to keep her distance from the other animals.

Only after Vasya had begun to drink did Felisjyta speak again. "I'm doing my best. Rozhalea wants at least one of us in the finals, so we're all trying for it."

Vasya pulled her head out of the water and wandered off toward the patch of grass next to the blue and green tent. Felisjyta let her go. She scooped up a bucket of water and doused herself down, causing her loose linen clothing to stick to her body.

"Would you like to sit in the shade?" Patrice asked.

Felisjyta grinned and wiped water off her face. "That obvious? You look cool enough."

"I am a dragon, after all," Patrice said. “The Great Dragon in the Sun does not turn his fangs on us.” She walked back to Felisjyta's tent and settled down on the far side, where the nearby trees caused a large patch of shade.

The knight followed. "Our legends say that we're descended from dragons," she said, "though I think we'd handle the heat better if that was true. In any case, we've long thought of dragons as good luck symbols."

"I didn't know humans would think such a thing. Is that why you agreed to accept my favor?"

Felisjyta gave Patrice a look that the dragon couldn't even begin to interpret. "The fact that you gave me your favor heartened my fellow knights, and I'm hardly immune from the feeling myself. But I accepted it because you offered, and because I'd like to think that we might be friends."

"I see," Patrice said. She wasn't really sure what to say about that. She'd never had any friends before other than her mother, and she had never really thought about wanting any either. She glanced around the camp looking for inspiration. "I noticed that almost everybody in Runeria wears their hair long, and your hair is quite short. But looking around the camp, the other Serzek knights also have much longer hair than you. Why?"

Felisjyta laughed. "You're a bit of a strange one are you?" She asked, and ran a hand through her wet hair. "Some lessons are hard learned. I cut my hair off to remind myself not to get involved with people who want more than I can give them. I've been growing it back out since then. It was about two years ago."

The explanation made sense to Patrice, but Felisjyta's comment did not. "I don't see why it's so strange. Maria and everyone else here always say that I can't do this or that because it goes against human customs, and human customs are what they are, and everyone follows them. So naturally I'd be curious."

Felisjyta laughed and leaned back on her hands. "There are a lot of people like that in Serze too. Rather more of them, I'd say. People in Runeria might be concerned with appearances and always being at the very height of fashion, always fitting in with their equals and betters, but their culture progresses much faster than ours. It's the only thing I admire about them. Times are changing, but the systems that we have in place in Serze don't change easily."

"The wisdom of dragons is that things always change around us, and we change with them," said Patrice. Her mother had reminded her that, just a few short weeks ago. "Even so, I don't think dragons change as much as we think. We are always creatures who value freedom over everything. All of this," she gestured around, "is a lot. Humans-"

"-are complicated," the knight finished her statement. "Although you are quite good at complicating things yourself."

Patrice huffed and crossed her arms. "Only because humans do so many things that don't make sense."

Felisjyta laughed again. "I agree. How old are you anyway? Sometimes you seem quite young."

Patrice thought she probably could've taken that as an insult, and graciously decided not to. "Dragons don't measure things in years the way humans do," she said. She spoke a word in the dragon language, and groped for human words to describe it. "I think you would call this 'little unwise bright scales' in your language."

"Little unwise?"

Patrice couldn't help but smile at the sound, and the concept. It made sense in dragon, but sounded ridiculous translated to human tongue. "It means I'm old enough to breed, but shouldn't, because I'm not full-grown yet," she explained.

"I see." Felisjyta nodded. "I'm twenty-three. Certainly much younger than you, but in terms of physical maturity you're the younger."

"Perhaps." Such things didn't really matter to her.

In the distance, a trumpet sounded. It was almost time for the jousting to begin again. Felisjyta stood up and offered Patrice a hand to do the same.

Patrice elected to stand up on her own. "I will stay for the rest of the tournament today," she said. "Good luck."

Felisjyta gave her a mocking bow. "I will do my best not to disappoint you, my lady." She laughed when Patrice rolled her eyes.

It was such a silly thing, but Patrice decided to play along with it. "You should always endeavor to not disappoint a dragon. I might just decide to eat you up."

Felisjyta shook her head and walked over to Vasya. Patrice left them to it, and made her way back to the stands.

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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[oh-a-very-toxic-octopus]

Finally got around to watching the Terminator films. We've seen 1–3 so far and I fucking love them. Spoilers in my rave below the cut.

The Terminator

Yeah, it's old and the score is cheap & doesn't rise like a modern audience expects and some of the dialogue is unintentionally silly, but the pacing of this film is mind-blowingly perfect and Linda Hamilton is just the coolest person on the planet. (Shout out to the invisible hand of Gale Anne Hurd, who surely did a lot here.)

The early character work is intensely 80s but I fell in love with Sarah and her buddies so quickly. Their chemistry is brilliant.

I love the stakes of the story and how succinctly they're explained. A lifetime of struggle and a near-impossible victory could be undone in an instant. Hhhh. We don't even need to see much of the future — its impact is evident in Reese (who I thought was Rhys, btw, so I died when it was revealed Reese was his surname and his first name was KYLE) and how battered and war-wearied he is.

The props and prosthetics are about as bad as you'd expect, but the team knew it and mitigated that by keeping those shots short. I loved the stop-motion terminator regardless. It's kinda charming and the final fight is so good I was carried away by the action.

Terminator 2

Jim is of the opinion this is the best Terminator film, so I went into it primed to be contrary, naturally. But I liked it!

I'm sad time and pop culture has removed the big reveal at the start; I can only imagine how fckn awesome it must have been to watch a contemporary screening of this film and experience the heel-face turn unspoiled.

The T-1000 is just plain cool, and the old CGI was clearly such a labour of love (and money) that it stands up remarkably well.

I love love the film's focus on what future sight really does to you, but I kinda hate it when characters go crazy, so I didn't much enjoy Sarah's early scenes.

I didn't much enjoy the sniper sequence either.

But in an unusual turn... I liked the kid actor and his interaction with the Terminator. The slang sounds even more ridiculous now than I imagine it did then, but it's fun.

As a result, I died at the end. When his arm was ripped off, I piped up all "omg, but they have another one for him in John's backpack!" Apparently Jim watched me from that point onwards and saw the moment my little heart broke, lmfao.

Terminator 3

I know this film gets a lot of hate, and I agree it skews too silly/kiddy in places, but the T-X was a really good active threat and seemed even more focused on her target than the T-1000. The boob joke was the only miss with her, in my opinion.

I enjoyed the film, liked the way it explored the impact of a supposed victory on John and then spanked him with that original fate/choices quote.

Kate was pretty cool but underutilized towards the end; I felt they failed to capitalise on the idea that she sent this Terminator back after it had killed her fckn husband. Not to understate how brilliant the final twist was to watch, but I wanted more Kate in the scene just before it; that final showdown shouldn't have been solely between Terminators, which 2 had clearly recognised.

I wish John's move with the T-800 in the hangar hadn't worked. Honestly it felt like Arnie had a hero clause or something; clearly the most impactful thing to happen there was a mirror of things to come, his attachment to a robot leading to his demise. Kate could have rescued him somehow and then have that image in her damn brain for decades until he's terminated in the future. I just... Yeah. Your main villain can control machines and she only hacks the good Terminator for three minutes? When there's so much emotional material to tap into with the betrayal? Boooo.

Overall I think 3 ties thematically into the other two films, so I like it and I'm unimpressed they've tried to hide it from the world. Might watch Dark Fate next and see how it fares as a replacement.

[icallhimjoey]

I know you said you don't want to touch Like A Poem because it's perfect as it is (you're right, it is). But hear me out here... there is still tension even though Joe and reader have now kissed. I'm not sure you're aware (obviously you are lol) but Joe and reader do not know each other at all. He knows she owns a book store, and she knows he likes his coffee black and that's pretty much it? Also I want to read about the funeral to be able to get over the grandfather dying so suddenly (why did you do this to me it made me sob) so I'm officially begging you to continue the story :))))

i don't know who you are, but i will find you - very sorry but will have to murder you. BIG SIGH. all right, i'm starting a "second season" to Like A Poem because of this request, and this is the first part. and hey. last thing. fuck you 🥰  Wordcount: 2.1K 

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A Lot Like Love

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“Thanks for coming,” you could hear your mother say softly to someone you didn't know. You were unsure if they were family, an old friend of the family, or even just someone who knew your grandfather who you'd never met before. There were a couple of aunts – great aunts – old, heavily perfumed ladies that weren't technically aunts and felt far removed from you, who you'd only see once every maybe 4 or 5 years. Maybe it was one of them. 

“Thanks so much for being here today,” Your mother was operating on autopilot. She kind of had to, you thought. How else could she make it through this day? You felt guilty about not standing next to her, saying goodbye to all the guests, but there was not a chance you could host the way she could, speaking to everyone, smiling at everyone. 

You just sat beside where she was standing by the door as people left, on a hard, cold church pew, and stared into space. You felt drained the way you feel drained after a huge cry, which, coincidentally, you’d just had. In front of a packed church too, which made it worse.

Your mother had written a beautiful letter to her father that she got to read up on the stand during the funeral, and she had done it without much show of emotion. All her words had been pronounced so clearly, no stutters or sobs got in the way of the back-row hearing it just as well as the front. When you'd gotten up to read a poem fitting for the occasion, you'd been a crying mess, voice high, needing to take breaks because your throat would close up completely - it was awful. And all those people staring at you, 75% per cent of them pairs of eyes you didn't know or recognize at all. None of them Joe's. You had vowed to yourself then that you'd never speak at a funeral again. 

So, you kissed Joe yesterday. And then he had left shortly after. That didn't feel like enough to invite Joe to your grandfather's funeral the next morning, so you hadn't. Which was okay, your mother was there, and you know, other family members too. Not that you cared much about them, none were really in your life, but it was nice for them to pay their respects to your granddad. 

When the last person had walked past your mother, she turned and came to sit down next to you. She sighed as she collapsed onto the bench, and you looked at her. She looked tired. Worse than you did. You just sat for a minute, empty stares into empty spaces.

“I don't want to go back to the store,” you said, slumping and resting your head on her shoulder. 

“Then don't, take the day.” your mother suggested, but you shook your head.

“Anne's in there by herself now, running the ship. Not sure if she's doing it tightly, but, fingers crossed.” You lightly joked, crossing your fingers for effect, and it made your mother smile. 

Up by the altar, you could see the pastor who had led the service, straightening some bits out, tidying the pieces of paper you'd left behind. Every move that was made, every little sound, was magnified by the acoustics of the building. You didn't like how cold churches felt, but you really appreciated the history and art of them. The vastness and grandiosity of them. You felt like the empty space between the pews and the tall ceilings was filled up with floating bubbles of nice thoughts and memories and even prayers for your granddad; all things people who had just left the venue had left behind. You weren't religious, but there was something nice about being sat in the back, letting those bubbles slowly come down and land on you, with your mother by your side. 

“Hey, remember when I called you that one day about the actor that used the toilet at the store?” you suddenly thought of it, and wanted to take your mother's mind off the heavy and emotional morning you'd just struggled through. She could probably use some fun news, and didn't you carry around just the most fun bit of news right now?

“I met him,” your mother said, and it took you a second to let her words register inside your mind. You shot eyes at her, confused, and saw she was smiling. The only time your mother and Joe had been in the store at the same time, she had been stuck behind the till helping you out. There was not a chance that they had met that day. You would’ve seen. 

“When?!” your voice was unexpectedly ear-piercing as it bounced from the tall walls. You instantly regretted saying it so loudly, seeing the pastor up front look at you. 

“A while ago, I think... couple of weeks? At the bakery,” she said, like that really explained anything. 

You sat up, straightening your back and you turned your body towards her as you waited for your mother to explain herself further. Had your mother forgotten the excitement in your voice when you had told her of your first meeting with Joe? How it had been so embarrassing that he had caught you falling to the floor after you thought he had left? How later you had explained that he had become somewhat of a friend to the store, that he would sometimes just be there for half a day? Why would she refrain that she actually met him in a fucking bakery?!

“Mum!” you impatiently hissed when she didn't seem to want to clarify herself at all. She took your arm and linked it with hers, forcing you to move back to sit next to her again, shoulders touching.

“It was after I helped that whole afternoon,” your mother made sure to whisper as she eyed the pastor who now seemed to be slowly making his way down the pews. You were likely going to be asked to leave if you weren't quiet, and your mother didn't want to step out back into the real world just yet. “There was a woman who had asked you for help twice, and you hadn't even acknowledged her because you were daydreaming, staring at someone. That's how I knew what he looked like.” 

You scoffed. You could've googled, you thought. 

You remember someone asking for help when you had noticed Joe and your granddad talking in those chairs. Had they tried to get your attention several times? Surely not. You definitely would've noticed.

“After your granddad and I left - you know that bakery that's opposite the flower shop granddad used to get sunflowers from? He was adamant we'd go inside, even though it was the end of the day, and nothing would be freshly baked.”

“And then Joe,” your mother elongated his name and looked at you as if she was peering over reading glasses. “Was in there, waiting to be helped.” You think back and remember how Joe had come back into the store later that day with baked goods that you shared when he had helped you restock the shelves. 

“He said hi to granddad. Very polite.”

Joe was very polite, she was right. Then your mum leant into you slightly, as if the next thing she was going to say was a secret. “Granddad told him he would always get you pastries on Friday afternoons when you'd come visit after school, and I thought it was such a weird thing to say to someone practically a stranger, but Joe then added four croissants to his order.”

Your mother might as well have slapped you right across the face. The emotional memory you'd completely forgotten about hit you hard, combined with new information about Joe and your granddad scheming behind your back, your brain short-circuited. 

Friday afternoon pastries with your grandfather. You’d look forward to it all week. You were only little, but he'd always have enough to feed at least four adults, you were sure. Different types of everything, but always two croissants. One for him, and one for you. It wasn’t until much later that you realized it was because your mother always had the late shift on Fridays and wouldn’t be able to cook, and your granddad had to work at the store, also not able to cook you a proper meal. It was a predicament that had morphed into a wonderful core childhood memory, one that you cherished with your entire being. You could feel tears pickle in the corners of your eyes as you tried to remember details, feelings, smells- anything to keep the memories fresh and live in your brain. You leant your head back to rest on your mother’s shoulder and thought you didn’t spend enough time with her. Her stopping by the store didn’t count as spending time, really. 

“We didn't actually introduce ourselves,” your mother continued, and you couldn't help but chuckle. “Sounds like him,” you commented through a smile and a sniff. “When he left, it was our turn and dad said he didn’t even really want anything.” Whenever your mother would refer to him as ‘dad’ you knew that for a second you weren’t her daughter, but just a person she was talking to about her father. “He just asked for old bread to feed ducks and pigeons at the park.” You frowned a little. Had he just wanted to go into the bakery because he’d seen Joe in there? You’d never know the answer, you thought, which was frustrating but, in a way, it felt nice to have an empty page in this book just so you could fill it in for yourself with whatever story you so pleased. 

How did he do this? Your grandfather wasn't even bloody alive anymore, and yet, he had managed to make your heart feel so full in this moment. As if it was him, comforting you at his own funeral, and it felt ironic. 

“We kissed yesterday.” You confessed then, and your felt your mother squeeze your arm tight to her body.

“Was it good?” your mum asked, and you elbowed into her side as an answer, the both of you grinning. 

“Seriously, was it?” she coaxed, and it made you laugh out loud – too loud for inside a church. 

“We’re in a church, mother!” you exclaimed theatrically. “Yea let’s leave before they add silly things onto the bill. Things like noise pollution,” your mother said after seeing strict eyes at her from the pastor who was now walking towards you in large steps. “Fifty extra quid for disturbing baby Jesus,” you joked, following her out. 

You had dropped your mother off at home, promised each other to see each other more, and she told you to slow down – you knew what she meant – before making your way over to work. Stepping inside you were confronted with an odd situation, a scene you couldn’t initially make a whole lot of sense of, and Joe’s facial expression absolutely didn’t help. He seemed a little annoyed. 

There were people in the store. Two guys, men you didn’t know, sitting in the armchairs. Customers. They were in their jackets, backpacks on the floor, a bag of shopping in between them. One of them was sat back and calmly reading the back of a book he’d picked up from the display in the window. The other was perched up on the very edge of the seat, elbows on knees, headphones on with his full attention on the phone he was holding. 

Joe, as it so happened, was stood behind the till, pen in hand, writing things onto a sheet that, suspiciously, looked a lot like an inventory list. Like he worked there. Which, you know, he very much didn’t. 

When you’d walked in, the bell had rung loudly and Joe hadn’t looked up initially, too busy with… work? But when he did look up, you saw his eyes soften and you noticed the littlest twinge in his face that showed empathy. Anne must’ve said you weren’t there because of the funeral. Speaking of…

Just as you were about to wonder where Anne was exactly, she walked out of the breakroom. 

“You’re back.” She stated. No emotion, no smiles, no excitement. Just a fact. 

“Yep.” You said back, your face still wrinkled in confusion. Anne picked up on it. 

“His seat was taken,” Anne said, and you knew she was trying to explain to you why Joe was behind the till doing her job, but it didn’t feel like a seat being taken meant that Joe now had to work in the store. Sure, Anne was strange. But this seemed a little too far of a stretch. 

“I had to poop.” she then deadpanned.

Ah. 

“Got it.” 

--- part two read Like A Poem here ---

The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 - add yourself  

[fizzyxcustard]

Too Close.

Fandom: Stay Close

Pairings: Ray Levine x fem!reader friendship (with hints of feelings on her side)

Warnings: Slight pining, angst, upset, worry, anxiety, ghosting. SPOILERS. But the fic is below the 'keep reading' icon. Enter at your own risk of reading spoilers (which you certainly will)

Summary: You are very close friends with Ray, but you're slowly wishing for something that he can't give you.

Comments: So I've just finished Stay Close. The show itself wasn't really my cup of tea, but this fic was an excuse to use the character of luscious Ray and also get some unwanted feelings out of my system; most of this is kinda what I'm going through at the moment with a male friend. Little bits have been added in though, or magnified to add a bit of drama to the fic. Hope you enjoy, and as always, if you want to be added to my tag list or removed, let me know.

It was exhausting. All of it.

Ray still hadn't moved on entirely from Cassie. Even though their relationship had ended nineteen years ago, and he'd last seen her in person two years ago. You were only there to pick up the pieces of a dream that had been shattered, and it was all at the cost of your own wellbeing. How selfish could you be to walk away?

You and Ray had become friends through working together. He was the photographer for the local newspaper, and you worked in the editing room. However, you had since moved on and now worked in a higher paid role with less hassle.

Ray would message you through WhatsApp every day or two, offering the normal pleasantries, and always say how good a friend you were. Never anything more than that. It didn't matter how often you sat up with him on phone calls and text discussions, talking about his old flame, and a couple of other women in between, you knew you would never be good enough. Always the friend and never anything more.

Some conversations had even become sexual, the two of you relieving each other's frustrations a little through kinky jokes, memes and sexting.

Sometimes you would find yourself imagining what it would be like to walk hand in hand with him, be the apple of his eye and be the first choice you always wanted to be. A few times you had even asked him to promise you that he would never settle for just anyone. Ray deserved the love of a good woman, and maybe you wanted to be that love for him. You felt in your heart that you would always have enough love for anyone.

And, finally, one day you couldn't take it any more. He had been discussing sending a letter to Cassie, after finding out where she was now living with her husband, Dave, and their children. That morning and when you saw his usual kind greeting, you knew it would mean discussing Cassie again. Going through reams of conversation about a woman who had left him out of the blue, broke his heart and was now married. It was killing you inside.

You often felt like screaming, "Look at me Ray! Look at ME! Just see me for a second, not your ex who couldn't give a damn about you, but me...who cares. If you just allowed yourself to think of the possibility of something more happening between us, I'd show you I care and that I could be everything you want. You want kids, and often say how you feel you're past it. I'm not. I could give them you."

Ray had seemed put out by your response, and questioned if he'd upset you.

Yes, you have upset me, but in a way you could never understand. And in a way that I'm not ready to talk to you about. I might never be ready. I still haven't figured out in my head how I feel. Am I developing feelings? Or am I just trying to cling to a chance of something happening out of the want for love? I don't want to be alone anymore, Ray, and I know that you don't either. But you need to let go of what's bad for you. Have I gotten too close?

You knew that keeping the barriers up, keeping your heart away from him, was slowly damaging you little by little. Headaches had started. Palpitations. You kept imagining him pacing his house, mind ablaze for Cassie.

Would he ever see past all the hurt of his own and see yours? Would he ever recognise your similarities and the ways you would compliment each other? Even if you did get together, Cassie would always be his number one. Never you.

The New Year's Eve text from him had said that you meant the world to him. Was that enough? Would it ever be enough?

You sat on your bed, your phone in hand, staring at the conversation that had gone on between you. Your thumb scrolled up the screen, masses of text from him talking about her. Followed by your kind and neutral answers.

Walking away seemed the only choice now. To stop this hurt. To stop all the insecurity and all the deep seated rage that was keeping you up at night, restless and with the sensation of your heartbeat muffled in your chest and neck.

What kind of friend were you to do that? Ray had never expected anything from you, and you were selfish to ever think he should give you something. It made you feel like the 'nice guy' who is 'friend zoned' by the girl they like.

The pain and questioning was too much.

The phone was growing heavy, until suddenly you began to type a message to Ray.

It started with "I'm sorry" and ended with you blocking his number, whilst sobbing and trying so hard to catch breath you felt would never come.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @narniaandthenorth @i-did-not-mean-to @shalinizhara @lathalea @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @meganlpie

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[dodo-begone]

The Mistake has Arrived

Pairing: Yan!DSMP!Techno, Yan!Ranbob!, Yan!Ranbutler x Reader

Request: Do you do continuations? If so could you make a part 2 with for the "mistakes were made" (aka the pregnancy one)? Like how they would act when the child is like actually born and causing mischief?? Please and thank you!

Summary: It seems that, after the baby arrives, things seem to change. It's hard to describe because things didn't change much yet at the same time managed to be the complete opposite of what they were before. Or maybe you hadn't noticed these things before. Who knows.

Word count: 2.1k

Warning: yandere, nsfw joke at the end of Ranbob’s section

Part 1 | Mistakes were Made

If this ever looks wonky/glitched, I have this properly archived on Ao3

A/n: the first part was implied AFAB reader because of pregnancy- and it probably still is but pregnancy is barely mentioned in this.

Techno

So remember when this man was absolutely terrified for you and the baby? Yeah that doesn’t get alleviated. If anything, that fear gets worse.

You holding the child, the perfect combination of you two, makes him truly realize how fragile the baby is. Like hello? This thing is his? And so tiny? Like a potato, a large one at that but still a potato?

Potatoes are fragile. Babies are fragile. Baby is like a potato, which makes them ultra fragile- oh NO.

Let’s get this straight; Techno is the infamous blood god. This huge hulking piglin hybrid who can easily kill anyone in arm’s reach. And then you got this tiny defenceless baby that is related to him? Like he knows how this thing works but it just feels surreal.

This anxiety feeds his distaste for holding his own child. He’s a monster and that’s a sweet innocent baby. He is going to severely harm the baby by even holding it. You never know what could happen- plus you need some mother-child bonding. It’s very important. Yes you may have been carrying that baby for 9 months but some more physical touch goes a long way. It grounds it more into reality for you. Yeah, that’s totally the reason.

The behavior can only last so long though. Eventually Techno would have to bond with his kid, hold his kid. You were getting fed up with how long he was taking. His anxiety over the situation was obvious and you were giving him space. So you did, but it’s been months and he still refuses to even touch them. His avoidance is annoying and it has to come to an end. And you will make sure it will.

One day, while he was relaxing and reading, you gently plop the baby onto Techno and go do some household chores that are usually hard when you have to keep an eye and ear out for the kid at every second.

Techno and the kid have a shared moment of “wtf” because the baby saw this thing before but he never touched it before. And they were left on it? By mother? Techno is internally freaking out while this baby tries to crawl on him. Really they’re just pulling at his hair and clothing. Anything they can get their grubby little hands onto. And gum on whatever they can get into their mouth. Oh god, this is going to be a long… period of time. He doesn’t really know when you’ll come back for them but he hopes it’s soon.

It’s safe to say that you did not come to Techno’s rescue in a swift manner. You made sure to take your time doing everything that couldn’t be properly done. Like cleaning or cooking a proper meal. Cooking had been left up to Techno mostly, and you really appreciated that he took that up and made good food but someone can only handle potato based dishes for so long. It was about time that something else was made. The potatoes needed a break.

When you come back to Techno and the baby, you’re so pleased to see that they’re having a little bonding moment. The baby was calm and Techno was finally relaxed in what felt like a century. Everything was perfect.

Techno was reading Sun Tzu’s The Art of War and your sweet baby child had long dozed off in his arms. Techno either didn’t notice or didn’t care and kept reading aloud, though it was mostly likely that he wanted to start education young. Even in their sleep. He started the education process already, in a way, by reading The Art of War to your pregnant stomach for months on end. You’d long grown tired of it, but the sight and sound of Techno reading still warmed your heart.

Ranbob

Nothing changes on his knowledge of babies. Not much, anyways. Some of the information he knows on babies came directly from you. The rest came from books found around Mizu.

In theory, he knows what to do. He read up on everything he’d need to know, after all. But in practice, it’s a whole different story. Anxiety occasionally comes to haunt him but he easily waves it off. He knows what he’s doing.

When Mizu was still populated, he observed the lives of others. There wasn’t much to do besides that. Children weren’t an uncommon sight. But babies? Now that wasn’t a common sight. Not many people brought their babies out. Nor were there many.

It’s understandable for him to not know exactly how to raise a baby. Unless you raised or helped to raise a baby, you aren’t exactly well versed in baby and are therefore slightly unprepared for said baby.

Though compared to children, he’s actually more prepared to care for the baby since there were so many books about baby care and stuff they’d need. Children are a whole different beast.

With children, it’s a more individual case-to-case deal. There aren’t any parenting guides on children. Well, there are. Though they all differ from each other. Each book has its own descriptions on why a behavior is happening and how to handle or fix it. So many differing opinions that overlapped were overwhelming. Ranbob soon came to the conclusion that childcare is more interpretive. Based on the child’s personality.

That’s way in the future though. Now he has to deal with a baby. A fragile little thing. It’s perfect in every way.

Now his anxiety starts to get the better of him. He’s so much bigger than it, much stronger. The baby is completely at his mercy and he is anxious that something bad may happen to it. Realistically, though, nothing bad is going to happen to his little family.

Once he holds the baby for the first time, all previous anxiety is taken by the wind. All that remains is absolute adoration. This leads to him caring for the baby almost entirely. Or when it’s least convenient for you, that is.

Like when your babe cries late into the night. Witching hour cries. Everytime without fail, he’d awaken and swiftly make his way to the nursery. All in an attempt to allow you to sleep. You’ve already done so much work to make the child. The least he could do was wake up and care for them. Plus you still looked so tired.

Although Ranbob was tired when morning came, it didn’t matter when you came out well rested. Or much better than the day before. Each day was a slight victory in his books. He only wanted the best for you, anyways. If sacrificing a few hours of sleep meant that you’d sleep better, then so be it.

He views your child as a blessing from Dream himself. A symbol of the union between you two. Just absolute perfection. Oh how lucky he is to have you and especially fortunate to have a child with you. His god has seen his hard work and has gifted him with so much more than he deserved. But he’d take it all the same.

If you two “accidently” had another kid, he’d be more than happy. Yes, he’s content and happy with the child you two already have. His life is perfect now. But if another addition just happened to come along? Well who is he to deny his god’s will?

aka he wants to weaken his pullout game to have another kid with you. One kid is enough but two? Oh that’d be swell!

Ranbutler

Compared to the previous two, Ranbutler’s reaction to the baby’s arrival would be labeled as “different”. Techno feared for his child, Ranbob was anxious, but Ranbutler? This man is ecstatic! Oh my gosh you two finally have a kid. Isn’t this just great?

His excitement level is astronomical. Come on, this man literally acts like this baby is going to achieve world wide peace or something. Like Jesus Christ incarnated. That’s the level of excitement he’s at.

Right from the get-go, Ranbutler is almost desperate in his attempts to hold the baby. Please? Pretty please? Why can’t he hold your baby? Our baby? Though as… desperate as he is to hold his child, he doesn’t want to disturb important mother-child bonding. Even if you carried them for around nine months, it’s still vital that you actually bond to your baby. Skin-to-skin early on is important.

At the next available time, most likely when you’re asleep or on the verge of sleeping, he’ll gently remove the child from atop your chest. Of course he’d go to the next comfiest and secure place he can and allow for some skin-to-skin between him and the baby.

According to some studies, skin contact with a baby supposedly “awakens” maternal or paternal and he was more than happy to test that out. If it worked? Then that’s great! If it didn’t work? What was the harm? It’s all good in the end.

Because of the nature of his job, you often don’t see him during the day. Both a blessing and a curse. This leaves you alone to care for the baby until he comes back. Even then, it wasn’t a guarantee that he’d help. That’s what you thought, at least.

No matter how exhausted he was or how irate he was from Billiam, the sight of your and the baby always made everything right in the world. All problems just dissolved away, becoming unimportant whispers of responsibilities.

Responsibilities that seemed to come from a whole different reality. Here, at home, the mess that’s Billiam doesn’t exist. Won’t ever affect his lovely little world.

Sometimes he comes home extremely late. So late that you already went to sleep, along with the baby. Occasionally you would try to stay up for him to come home. You were laying on the couch with the baby on your chest, what else was he to presume? That was obviously what you were doing, right?

On those nights, he would sit by you and just watch. Basking in the calm energy you exude. Even without talking to him, you always had a way of calming him down. Of making him feel loved and appreciated.

He would also take care of the baby's needs at night. With his occupation as Billiam’s servant, it really wasn’t the best idea, but he assured you that he would be fine. After all, he couldn’t bond with the baby during the day, so that only left the night. Even if it was menial tasks, he found solace in the presence of the family he was creating,

A question that kept reappearing was how he managed to get such a wonderful partner. One so willing to have a child with him. Deep down, he knew the actual answer, but it was hidden under so many layers of delusions that it’d be better and easier not to deal with that mess.

Now that you had the baby to care for, he was much more willing to leave you alone while he went to work. Yes, sometimes he still brought you into the room with The Egg. But that was only because you seemed stressed the day, night, or morning before he left.

How could he just leave his precious to flounder around so helplessly? A baby can easily be overwhelming. The Egg was more than willing to help you.

The kid, although a beautiful culmination of the love between the two of you, also symbolized another thing. They were a shackle, keeping you tethered to him.

There was no way you’d be able or wish to escape in such a fragile condition. Especially with the baby. How could you risk the life of something so innocent? Of something that did absolutely nothing wrong besides existing. You wouldn’t be such a horrible monster, would you? No, he knows you. Knows that you wouldn’t do that.

Once he has a taste for parenthood, he’s practically addicted. He absolutely loves it. Loves you. Why not have another? And another? And another?

Let’s be honest, he might just want a small herd of kids. Not many, like four or five. A few more wouldn’t do too much harm, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. After all, you’d be around them the most, being the primary caretaker for them all.

The desire for a large family comes into direct conflict with his desire to not make you overwhelmed and overworked. It was a hard battle, but he convinced himself that maybe just one more wouldn’t hurt. Just one more, and that’ll be the last he’ll want.

He’ll say that for the next three he plans to have with you. Can men get baby fever? If they can, then this man definitely would have it, just saying.

[livingmydreams13]

Do i know you?

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Fem Reader

Rating: +18

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

AN: i only see Dieter scenes, so this comes to my mind last night.

You were called to get an interview with one of your partners, all this thing on being an actress was your mother's idea, you didn't want to but the last two movies give you more money than you expected so "This could work for me" you think.

Once you arrive you a man sit on one of the chairs they told you it was one of the actors who are going to work with you, but you didn't care too much, you didn't even want to be there, you hate the movie, but you have to it was a really good paid, you sit kinda in bad humor and only said hi to the interviewer, you feel his eyes on you but he didn't say hi to you either, once you stop feeling that he was looking at you, you look at him out of the corner of your eye and he was wearing what looked like pajamas with a wine glass and glasses, who the hell was this guy?.

The interview starts, the guy introduces you and after a few questions he goes with the pajama guy.

"So you may know mr. Bravo right?" He's asking you idiot, answer…. wait Bravo?

"Mmmm, no no" and you smile "no sorry, what is your name?"

"Dieter… Dieter Bravo" he lowers his glasses a little and winks at you, but you can't help but laugh, but you instantly cover your mouth with your hand when you see how everyone is looking at you.

"Oh... is that your real name... wow... that's the ugliest name I've ever heard in my life" you didn't expect that attack of sincerity and smiled looking at the camera, Dieter took off his glasses and looked at you amazed and with a smile.

"Be my wife" you looked at him with a frown.

"Ok cut, let's start again."

"So tell us, what made you agree to be in this movie?" oh shit he's talking to you again asshole, reply.

"Oh I'm doing it for the money" shit I said that too fast, time to fix it, you start laughing so they think it was a joke and they bought it.

"I'm kidding! obviously for my precious fans cheering to see me again and..." you look at Dieter for a second and pat his knee "of course to have the honor of working with such wonderful and talented people" you all smile and nod, well that was better you think, Dieter smiles at you and nods as he touches your hand and goes up your arm, but without removing your smile you give him a smack with your hand and he quickly pulls it out, you both smile like idiots.

"Just to be clear, even though you fired me in the most horrible way in the world and got yourself a manager...you'll still send me money right?"

"Only because I feel sorry for you, yes."

"That works for me."

You hated your mother, but you had no one else to talk to, it had already been weeks locked up in that hotel, you were just weeks away from grabbing a knife and stabbing yourself.

"This movie is a fiasco, and I hate it here."

"You'll see girl, it'll all happen fast, and in the blink of an eye... you'll finish filming and get out of there and..."

You don't let her finish and hang up on her, another thing that had you in a bad mood, you hadn't had sex in a month, and now that you're stuck here it was harder, you made a list with all the actors that were there, who could be the best choice.... Carol might be... but she seemed to be the kind of person who after fucking would burst into tears and tell you her problems, that wasn't what you needed right now, Dustin? mmm he seemed to have set his eyes on Lauren, damn bitch why did she have to be so hot, Dieter? he looked at you all the time, it seemed like he was following you, once you went to get something from the fridge and when you closed it he was behind the door, you had never been so scared in your life, you looked at him with wide eyes and he just looked at you seriously and started walking backwards until he walked away, weird, but to tell the truth he is sexy, he is like those sexy old guys, a dilf, how would he moan and scream his name? you thought, mmmm he still seemed weird, anyway it was still a "maybe".

You grab your things and go somewhere else, you were tired of being in your room, you decide to go somewhere else to listen to music, you pass by Carol's room and you hear screams, but you knew what it was about, it was either very good sex or she just like scream to much… You hear something like "now stick it up my ass" ok!!!! much information, you didn't want to know more and then tomorrow you see her in pain, you continued your way and you arrived at what seemed to be a kind of restaurant that the hotel had, there were Gunther and Pippa.

"Hi Pippa… would you like have a date with me and maybe have sex?"

Pippa looks at you not very surprised.

"I'm eating now!"

"Well... maybe later?"

"Sorry, I'm married, but when I split up I'll call you" you smile at her and walk past her.

"I'm counting on that! don't let me down!" you walk past Gunther.

"What about you?"

"Oh no, I'm fine thank you"

You just smiled at him, you always thought he was the kindest and most tender of all, you settled down at one of the empty tables and started listening to music while you painted your nails, and didn't pay attention to what was going on around you.

Dieter enters a little agitated.

"Hey Pippa, do you want to have sex with me?" Pippa just looked at him and sighed in frustration.

"Is no one going to let me eat in peace today? Everyone wants sex."

"Ok ok, sorry" she rests her eyes on Gunther.

"Gunther?"

"Oh no I just finished eating, I'm fine thanks" Dieter just nods and at that moment he looks at you, smiles mischievously and walks over, he calls your name several times but you don't respond so he taps you on the shoulder and there you see him.

"What do you want?"

"Do you want to have sex with me?" you smile at him and nod but your reply.

"Ahh no" Dieter sighs frustrated and puts his hands on the table.

"Why not? You know I had a dream about you last night and I think we'd make a really good hook up." Well, that surprised you... lie you already knew, you had walked by his door the other night and heard him moaning your name, but you didn't know if he was sleeping or just masturbating.

"Yeah you know... I've thought about it and I really don't know if I'd be too excited to scream your name, it's like really weird" Dieter frowns but instantly smiles.

"It's more like I made a list of everyone and I'm crossing a few off" you show him the list but he doesn't look at it.

"So you thought about it... you'd have sex with me" he makes an astonished face "You're in love with me".

You frown, "What? no... what the fuck?" you start to rewind why you didn't understand at what point he came to that conclusion.

"Hey my name is very sexy, and more if someone shouts it with excitement and pffff that stuff" he makes some weird gestures and you just look at him denying.

"Mmmm nah, I like other names, I don't know maybe? Frankie?" you close your eyes and groan touching your chest "Now that's a name I want to scream."

"Ew what an stupid name"

"No no no that's a great name."

"No, I have a cousin named Frankie and he's an idiot" you smile, you had pissed him off, he looked cute and angry, but his anger lasted two seconds and he smiled at you again, he started pointing his finger at you as he walked away.

"You and me... we're meant to be" you frown and look at Pippa who was looking at you laughing.

"And now what did I get myself into"

After weeks every day was the same, recordings, you would lock yourself in your room and Dieter would watch you all the time, and somehow you liked it, it was like he was chasing you and you loved that, but you never knew what was the ideal moment, until tonight, they recorded 10 videos for tik tok, clearly you were obliged to do it so you drank a whole bottle of wine to endure the moment, but that day you saw Dieter more glued to the other women than to you normally, but what the fuck? You thought, if he wanted to have sex with you he wouldn't get it by looking at other women, that maybe was a bad habit of yours, jealousy too much and they weren't even "something" to be angry about, anyway you were, and you looked at him with hate, after recording all those videos you left stomping your feet, you passed by Dieter's door and he suddenly opened it and wanted to grab you.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"You gave me bad looks all day!!!, I don't like bad vibes" you looked at him angrily and pushed him against his door.

"You say you want to have sex with me and that we are destined and then you go" you punch him in the arm "and look eagerly at other women" and hit him more.

"Hey hey ok, sorry" he raises his arms in surrender.

"God I get so hot for your jealousy" you poke him again and he smiles at you.

"If you're going to walk behind me, I don't want to see you hanging out under someone else's skirt here" you look at him serious and point your finger at him, he looks at you smiling like an idiot.

"I don't like those games"

Dieter catches you off guard and grabs you by the wrists to pull you towards him, ok this kind of games maybe if you liked it, your expression didn't change but inside you were about to explode.

"God you don't know how I love you" you try to free yourself.

"Let go of me, now" you try again to get out of his grip, you get him to let go of one of your wrists and you start giving him little punches on his arm and Dieter was trying to get you to stop until he pushes you against the door hard, you liked it, but you slapped him and suddenly without warning he slapped you too, it didn't take him two seconds to realize it and his horrified face trying to apologize, but you opened your eyes surprised by the energy he had given you and you climb on him and kiss him desperately.

Dieter moans into your mouth and with a kick he closes the door, he takes you to his bed but you stop kissing him and reluctantly he lets go, you sit on his bed with your arms propped up.

"Take off your clothes" he smiles at you and fearlessly removes each garment, when he takes off his t-shirt you see that little belly sticking out and you already love him, then the grey pants and his boxers and you see them already with his hard cock pointing at you.

"It was just a little short kiss and you're already... this hard?"

"I was thinking about you before, when I was watching you dancing with those mini shorts... and well I was going to touch myself before this" you smiled and stood up approaching him, you started kissing his chest and caressing him.

"Do you think about me everyday?" if breath is cut off when you grab without warning his cock.

"I-.. I yes i do" You smiled at him and kept kissing down and down, you kissed the tip and looked up at him from below but Dieter grabbed your shoulders and lifted you up.

"No please, I wouldn't hold on" you grab him, turn him around and throw him on the bed. Dieter looks at you smiling while taking off your clothes and he started touching himself.

"I dreamt about this… i-" Once naked you climb on top of him pressing yourself against his cock and kiss him, it was messy and desperate you wanted him inside you now, but Dieter lowers his hand and goes straight to your pussy feeling how wet you were.

"Oh honey you are ready for me..." he starts stroking his finger on your clit and that made you weak but Dieter grabbed you with his arm around your waist.

"I want you to cum on my fingers first honey" suddenly you felt his two fingers inside you while with another one he gently caressed your clit, the room was filled with your moans and the sound of his fingers moving in and out of your entrance.

"Oh… fu- please i- i'm close i-" Dieter started kissing and biting your tits while he did his job with his fingers, you could tell he had experience doing this, you screamed when he reached one of your nipples with his mouth and you sank your head into his hair, you couldn't hold it any longer and you cum on his fingers, you made him let go of your nipple so you could kiss it.

"Look...look at all this beautiful mess you made in my hand honey" you were exhausted but you wanted more.

"No... no more... no more fingers, I want something bigger" Dieter with a grunt lifts you up and throws you on the bed while looking for a condom in one of his drawers.

"Alright honey, spread those legs for me, I want to see what you have for me" you open wide enough for him to settle between your legs and he stares at you attentively and with a smile.

"God you are beautiful."

"Come on Dieter you wanted to fuck me? do it."

"Yes ma'am" you grab him by the neck to kiss him and he settles his cock at your entrance and goes slow.

"God... that... that feels good."

"Oh honey, look how you take me so good".

At first he moved slowly so he wasn't so rough and it felt good but you needed more movement or you would die.

"Please...please Dieter faster, don't hold back."

"No.. I don't want to finish too fast."

"I don't care just move" and you kiss him urging him to move and he starts with faster movements, again the room filled with moans and dirty sounds coming out of you and you really didn't give a shit if the others heard you. Dieter lowers his hand and starts stimulating you again.

"Come on honey, one more, I know you can" and you felt him close the first one was hard and almost left you limp but this one was more freeing and you ended up screaming his name.

"See honey? you look incredibly sexy screaming your name" you both laugh, and you end up admitting that you did like screaming it, but the laughs ended when Dieter started to feel that he was coming too, and he started to move harder and sank his face into your neck, biting, you moaned in his ear and moaned his name to instigate him and after two more thrusts he came, you could see his vein in his neck and how the back of his neck was sweating, he stayed there for a moment exhausted until he got up to take off the condom and throw it away, both of you were exhausted.

After cleaning up in the bathroom, you and Dieter lay in bed.

"Are we getting married?" Dieter looks at you with a frown but then smiles.

"Will you marry... me?"

"Yes why not...even though my mother will hate you" Dieter shrugs his shoulders.

"Never mind, I'll marry you, not her."

"She can do witchcraft to you or something" Dieter's eyes widen but in a moment he gets up and kneels next to you, grabs your hand and kisses it.

"This is too fast, but I don't care, I feel we are destined my love".

"Or did you just need to fuck because we've been cooped up here for weeks?"

"I don't care about the reasons, now that you've mentioned getting married.... My love... I'll be by your side forever and you won't be able to get rid of me" he lies down next to you and hugs you putting your head on his chest.

"God... and now what kind of trouble I got myself into".

[headinthestaticsky]

Jack Krauser x Female Reader, You Don't Always Have To Take Things So Seriously!

A/N: I hope you guys (and the amazing person who requested this) don't mind I used a picture of someone else... As I wrote this out I started to realize I wrote the reader to kinda act like Meg from Supernatural so you could get the mood I was going for if that makes sense. If you don't know who that is well... I failed today lol and if you all really want me to I will remove the picture. :) I want everyone to enjoy my writings.

I really hope the person who requested this liked it... if there are aspects you would like me to change, let me know! This was a bit more challenging than I thought so I hope I did your idea justice and sorry if it's too short!

"Y/L/N, you'll be working with Krauser... he's one of our elite forces, you'll learn quickly with him." I couldn't help but smirk at the request that was made. The stone-cold mercenary had always piqued my interest and now I was finally going to be able to work with him. The meeting was ended shortly and I slinked my way over to Krauser, the smirk hadn't left my face.

"So looks like you're stuck with me now huh?" I lightly punched his arm jokingly. "Ow," I whispered to myself, my knuckles felt as if they had begun to bruise.

"We'll start training tomorrow morning Y/L/N, don't expect me to take it easy on you just because you're new," Krauser stated gruffly.

"I've been here for six months... I'm not that new." I said rolling my eyes. "You sure do know how to make a girl feel special, don't you? Do you treat all girls like this or did you save that line just for me?"

He grumbled to himself before leaving completely ignoring my statement.

"We're off to a great start," I said to myself, my face was red with slight embarrassment... but I wasn't gonna give up that easy.

...

When he said he wasn't going to go easy on me, he wasn't kidding. Pre-workouts felt as if I had been running for 3 days. By the time the actual workout was finished I was like jelly on the floor.

"C'mon Y/L/N is that all you can handle?" He asked, I hoped he was just teasing me. The lack of oxygen was going to start getting to me.

"Oh, what can I say, Krauser, you take my breath away." I panted out and winked. He just stared down at me and rolled his eyes, his stone-cold face seemed even colder than usual.

"Oh don't be so grumpy," I replied, my breath had finally returned to its normal pace as I stood up. I stretched and winced as I felt my muscles tense.

...

We had been sent on a quick mission, or at least it should've been quick. We instead got lost on the way and we were currently scouring through a sketchy forest.

"Krauser I'm just gonna say it, I don't think we're meant to fucking be here."

"Dumbass must've given us the wrong coordinates." He replied a tinge of annoyance was in his voice.

"Hopefully they won't... leaf us behind." I joked badly. I could hear him groan in faux pain. It in return made me laugh.

"Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week." We continued stepping through the forest. Most of its leaves crunched beneath our feet.

We eventually did find our way to our location, it seemed to be a gigantic warehouse... but if this was anything like our other missions it was going to be completely abnormal.

...

We had separated from each other in hopes of finding a single sample quicker. It turned out to be a smart move after I had unlocked an electronically locked door I had located the sample almost immediately. I grabbed the radio strapped to my hip and made my way back to the agreed meeting point.

"Krauser, I've located the sample and I am heading back now."

I waited for a few seconds but got no response.

"Krauser? Do you copy?" Still nothing but dead air. I sighed and pulled out my gun again. I made way my back to the meeting point only to be met with Krauser being restrained by some strange man. I aimed my gun toward the man immediately but he just chuckled in response. He just pulled Krauser up and shielded himself from the laser point.

"Krauser, you literally lift a million pounds worth of weights how in the hell did you get trapped by..." I paused scanning the scrawny-looking man. "By him?" I asked, I could feel some panic arising within me.

"Sedative..." He mumbled in a tone that was unlike one I've heard from him.

"It's his own fault... snooping around here trying to steal my sample. It was quite foolish really, taking something that doesn't belong to you..."

An idea popped into my head. I reached into the hip pack I had and pulled out the sample.

"If you don't let him go your precious little sample will be nothing more than glass stuck in my boot," I said in a deadly tone. I could see the man grow nervous, he took a deep breath before replying.

"You wouldn't dare..." He hissed at me, his grip seemed to become shaky.

I dropped the vile down onto the ground.

"Try me hot shot..." I smirked

"Listen..." The man started. I moved my right foot over the sample.

"DON'T!" The man yelled, Krauser winced from the volume of his yell.

I just smirked back at him before lifting my foot up and stomping the vile into nothing more than dust.

"NO!" He yelled as he dropped Krauser onto the ground. He ran over to the pile of glass before looking furiously back up at me. He then charged toward me and shoved me against the wall. My gun fell out of my hand as he put his hands around my neck. I closed my eyes and struggled against the pressure. For a scrawny man, he sure had some strength to him. I tried to reach for my knife but It was barely out of reach.

I gasped out in relief as the pressure was ripped off of me. I collapsed down to the ground and started coughing. Krauser had seemed to finally get his strength back. He pulled out his gun and shot the man at once. I winced at the sickening sound of the metal reaching the man's chest.

"You okay Y/N?" Krauser asked.

I just nodded breathless, my hand still lightly on my throat.

"At a loss for words? I'm in shock." He replied teasingly. It was a rare moment for him to use my own banter against me.

I breathlessly laughed at him as I got up. I walked over to the small pile of glass and liquid and pulled out a cotton swab.

"Hopefully this will suffice... or the boss is gonna kill me," I said hoarsely. I raised up and put the swab back into my hip pouch. When I lifted my head I was met with a quick and shocking kiss. I stared at the culprit of it in shock. Krauser chuckled at me as he walked out of the warehouse leaving me behind.

"If all it took to get a kiss from you was to get choked I would've gotten myself choked months ago!" I yelled running after him.

Am I really sorry if this sucked... I feel really unsure about it lol.

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 19:

ℓιυ уαиgуαиg

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @whathamelon @curieouscapt @unknown5tar @mrcarbonatedmilk @silent-potato @ajhdr @gjheaaa

warnings: an extreme plot twist 😭, things escalate way too quickly, a bit of angst, this is so weird I’m sorry.

“Welcome.”

You heard your coworker greet someone as you finished giving the final touches to the tattoo you’d been working on for a few weeks.

“Dang, Sungchan. You’re gonna look hella fine with this.” You wiped off the remains of ink over his skin, getting up from your little stool to admire your job from afar. “Wanna take a look?”

“Hell yeah.” The tall boy straightened his back, walking towards the full-body mirror to look at the daisies decorating his bicep. “My girlfriend’s gonna love it, thanks y/n.”

“No prob.” You covered the tattoo before biding him goodbye.

As you ordered your materials, you heard the doorbell ring. Assuming it was Sungchan leaving the shop, you didn’t pay much attention to it.

“Y/n, come here!” Your coworker and friend, Xiaojun, shouted from the front desk.

“Coming!”

As you exited the room, an innocent looking boy invaded your vision. A big, black hoodie shielded his body from the winter cold, making his body look tiny inside of it.

“He wants a tattoo.” He lifted his pierced eyebrows, as if the boy’s request was some sort of joke.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You extended your hand, allowing him to shake it vigorously. “Do you have any idea of what you’d like to get done...?”

“Yangyang.” He completed your sentence, an oddly wide smile imprinted on his face. “I actually have a picture of what I want.” He pulled out his phone from his pocket, unlocking it to show you the image of a beautiful woman smiling.

“Are you sure about it? It’s gonna take a while to finish it and I’m sure it won’t be painless.”

He blinked a couple of times before giving you another wide smile.

“I’ll be alright.”

“So I’m booked for the rest of the week, but we can start next Monday if you’re available.” You murmured while taking a look at your agenda. “If you’d like, maybe we can book the rest of your appointments in advance. And you can also send me that image so I can get started on the sketch.”

“That’d be great.”

It wouldn’t be until the next week that you finally saw the languid boy again. He was wearing a black tank top with a leather jacket on top.

“Ready?” You asked while pulling out your gun, Yangyang getting comfortable in his seat. “You can pay now or when we finish, whatever feels best for you.”

“Thank you.” He removed the leather jacket covering his naked arms.

His limbs were slightly built up, but most surprisingly, filled with intricate ink designs. You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your mouth, your fingers unconsciously touching the patterns over his fair skin.

“This is amazing.”

He giggled at your excitement, curious eyes gazing at you. Suddenly, you snapped out of your daydreaming.

“Sorry.” You shook your head, pulling out a piece of paper from your desk. “Here’s the sketch, we can change it if you don’t like it.”

“This is perfect, you’re really talented.” His eyes scanned the detailed sketch, smiling back at the drawn woman.

“Thank you.” You rolled up your sleeves, your ink-filled arms on full display. “Let’s get started.”

You spent about an hour in complete silence, only the buzz of your machine filling the room. Yangyang seemed to be handling the pain just fine, which made your job much easier.

“How long have you been doing this?” He asked out of nowhere, trying to start a conversation.

“When I was seventeen maybe.” Your eyebrows were knitted together as you drew shadows over the woman’s eyes. “The guy at the front desk and I opened this shop after deciding neither of us were attending to college. Guess studying wasn’t really our thing.”

“What did your parents say about it?”

“You know, the usual, but they got used to it after a while. They even got a couple tattoo a few months ago.”

“It must be nice having supportive parents.”

“Yeah, it is.”

The room went silent once again. Xiaojun turned on some music, the beat faintly reaching your workspace.

“So who is this woman?”

“My mom. She died from cancer a year ago.” You weren’t expecting him to say something like that so abruptly. Before you could open your mouth, he was resuming his answer. “Please don’t say something like “I’m sorry”, why would you be? It’s not like you knew her.” There was irony in his tone, which made you quite confused.

“Well yeah, but it must be sad for you.”

“She lived her life well, and that’s all that matters.” You hummed. That was a nice way of seeing it. “She actually helped me out a lot when I hit rock bottom a few months after we found out about her disease, even when she was at her deathbed all she did worrying about others.”

‘Why is he telling me this?’

“She must’ve been one heck of a woman.” A breathy laugh erupted from him.

“She was.”

“Well, I think we’re done for today.”

Week after week, Yangyang came back to the shop. The tattoo was turning out amazing and you couldn’t be happier with the results. Yangyang and you grew closer after that small, deep talk during your first session together, even going as far as exchanging phone numbers.

A few late-night conversations later, you were having your first date, which was followed by three more, every single one of them unique in its own way. The last one had taken place at the amusement park, the Ferris wheel serving as the perfect spot to share the sweetest kiss you'd ever received. Maybe it wasn’t very professional of you, but who could resist such a charming guy?

“Hey, y/n.” He greeted you with a small peck on your cheek, his silly smile pressing against your skin. After a small pause, he proceeded to take a seat at his usual spot.

You’d decided to wear a small shirt since the weather was getting warmer. Yangyang’s eyes were uncomfortably glued to your lower abdomen, making your hands clumsy as you prepared your materials.

“You’ve got a scar there.” A pinkish line crossed the right side of your tummy. For a moment, you were scared he’d think it was gross, after all, it wasn’t precisely a small scar, nonetheless, you carried it with pride. You were surprised to see there was no disgust in his look, instead, something you couldn’t really name.

“Didn’t I tell you? I used to have chronic kidney disease. I would’ve died if it weren’t for the transplant I received.” His mouth twitched the slightest, as if he was about to cry. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sure, let’s continue with the tattoo.”

Halfway into your work, you felt a small drop of water staining your arm. It was Yangyang, he was desperately squeezing his eyes in an attempt to hold back the tears.

“Are you feeling any pain? I’ll try to be more careful, we’re almost done.” He shook his head. “What is it then, Yangyang?”

He pulled out his wallet, retrieving a pink card and placing it above your hand. As soon as you turned it around, you were met with a name you knew all too well, the name of the person who saved your life.

“How...?” Your words stopped as you realized that certain person and Yangyang shared their last name.

“I remembered your name from when my mom passed. One day, I googled you out of pure curiosity, what I didn’t expect was to actually find you, address and all.” A lonesome tear rolled down his cheek, staining his silver ring as it fell. “My mom would be glad to know her contribution is being used well.”

Your eyes watered at his words, giggling slightly at the odd turn things had taken.

“Thank you.” Your arms engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you so much.” Yanyang couldn't help but let more tears fall, he was finally getting the closure he needed. He could finally let his mom go.

Silently, he thanked his mom for having saved such a beautiful human as you, feeling as if her death hadn't been in vain.

“Crap.” You sniffled, nose adorably scrunching. “Alright, get up.”

You pushed him away from your body, grabbing your coat and swinging it above your shoulders.

“Huh?” Your hand was extended right in front of him, your pretty, pearly teeth on full display as you showed him the sweetest smile ever.

“I’m taking you out for ice cream.”

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Float Like A Butterfly... Chapter 5: So Last Season

Summary: Now that Adrien is no longer Chat Noir he doesn't have to get hit all the time. Unfortunately, his luck doesn't seem to have gotten the memo... Or has it?

------------------------------

"So, how're you holding up?"

"Please, Adrien, it's my mother! I'm positively ecstatic!"

"Exactly. It's your mother."

Chloe looked down for a second before her eyes snapped back up, any doubts she had hidden in an instant. "She's finally coming back! I'll finally be able to show her what she's been missing." Chloe tossed her ponytail back to emphasize the unspoken Me.��"Now, I've gotta go. Sabrina insisted we do an 'emotional support routine' or whatever beforehand. Ciao!"

Sighing, Adrien stared at his phone for a moment before putting it down. He knew Chloe was grateful for Sabrina's help but it was still a struggle getting her to admit it.

Or getting her to admit how much Audrey had hurt her.

It was one thing to travel halfway around the world for your career and leave your daughter behind. It was something else entirely to completely ignore her. In all the years since Audrey left Chloe hadn't received a single birthday gift, phone call or text message. Adrien would know. Chloe would've bragged about it endlessly if her mother had taken so much as two seconds to acknowledged her existence-

Adrien's foot jerked, striking the vanity table and making the connected mirror tremble. Heart suddenly pounding against his chest as tension built up in his forehead. Distressed expression reflecting back at him.

Breathe, Adrien. Breathe.

Slowly, he inhaled.

Then exhaled.

Again.

Good.

He was okay.

Adrien was okay.

Guilt pricked like a thorn for thinking of his own problems when Chloe needed him. Adrien crushed it with his anger and annoyance but it was still there. Like a splinter that wouldn't come out.

I hate you.

Swiping out of the video chat Adrien tapped on Nino's number. It rang... and rang... and rang...

He's annoyed with me. I did something wrong again and Nino doesn't want to-

Adrien smacked both sides of his face. No, dummy! Nino's just busy or something. Stop that!

It wasn't every day a teenage DJ provided the music for Paris Fashion Week, after all. Nino had to make sure all his equipment was working properly.

The door to his dressing room burst open.

"Adrien, your friend Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will be bringing the last article of the new Gabriel line," Nathalie announced. "Your father expects everything to be perfect for Audrey Bourgeois."

"Doesn't he always?" Adrien deadpanned.

Nathalie stared at his watery eyes before typing something into her tablet. "Your performance on catwalks only has a 99% success rate. He expects you'll do better."

Father thinks you're a failure just like everyone else. He-

Shut up! Adrien felt something heavy settle in his chest.

One of the makeup artists came rushing in and Nathalie gestured her towards Adrien. "Touch up his eyes," she instructed and then left.

Jaw clenching, Adrien sat perfectly still as the makeup artist did her job. He was never entirely sure what the staff thought about him. 'Professional' was a word that was tossed around a lot. That used to fill him with a little pride... Before all of this.

The last person to suggest that a thirteen year old mourning his mother wasn't 'professional' so much as he was 'depressed' had never come back to work... Oh. Adrien had forgotten about that.

Finishing quickly, the makeup artist left too. Leaving Adrien with his thoughts. He didn't want to be with his thoughts at the moment. They were distracting and Nathalie had not been subtle.

I hate-

His phone vibrated as it received someone's text.

Ni-Non: hey dude!

Ni-Non: it's crazy over here man

Ni-Non: break a leg! ;)

Adrien smiled as his unpleasant mood faded to the back of his mind... And if he saw similarities between his family and Chloe's, well, that's why he could empathize with her.

Adrien: That's theater but I guess there's not much difference.

Adrien: Thanks. ^_^

 ---------------

There was a knock at his door. Adrien stopped fidgeting in the awkward suit to go answer it.

"Hello, Marinette." Adrien smiled in greeting.

"Oh, uh, hello!" Marinette gave a small wave as she stepped up the short stairs and-

Adrien braced himself with one foot while his hands went to her shoulders. Steadying Marinette as she quickly removed her weight from him.

"Oh! Uh, sorry." Marinette looked away in embarrassment at having tripped into him.

"... No worries!" Adrien smiled as he shook his head. Marinette seemed... subdued. Reaching down to pick up the hat that had fallen. "Oh, no." The artificial feather Marinette made for his allergies had come loose. "I hope it's not too hard to fix it."

Marinette looked down. "Uh, y'know, it doesn't really matter. This hat is a complete failure anyway."

"What? No, it's not!" Adrien rose to his feet quickly in shock. "Why would you say that?"

"Because... the queen of fashion, Audrey Bourgeois, saw it and hated it!" Marinette's hands covered her face, voice breaking. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I really messed up. I'm a total no talent!" Her arms wrapped around herself in a hug. "Please, don't put it on," she pleaded.

Adrien's heart went out to Marinette as she laid her insecurities bare. "Marinette, everything's going to be fine." He searched for the proper spot to reattach the feather,  fiddling with it as Adrien reassured her. "Your hat looks great. I think it's awesome and so does... my father." Adrien cleared his throat as he managed to fix her hat. "Otherwise he wouldn't have picked it for me. Look!"

Putting Marinette's hat on Adrien walked across the dressing room like he was already performing. Striking a few poses to ease Marinette's anxiety. "See?"

It seemed to work as Marinette gave a small smile. "You got that catwalk down," she complimented.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "Really? Thank you."

"Ah-hem," Nathalie cleared her throat. "We have to go." Without waiting for Marinette she turned on her heel and started walking towards the viewing area.

Adrien rolled his eyes but smiled at Marinette's back as she hurried to catch up. Turning back to look at himself in the mirror Adrien scanned his outfit. The suit may have been generic and a few seams too close to last year's entry but Marinette's hat was fire.

"Okay!" Adrien was gonna go out there and make sure they recognized Marinette's talent!

---------------

Holding Marinette's hat to his chest Adrien stuck his head out in a decidedly 'unprofessional' manner. Spotting Marinette's family and a bunch of his friends in the first row. Adrien's blond head caught Nino's eye from across the catwalk and he gave him a thumbs up.

Adrien waved as he ducked back behind the corner before the photographers could take any pictures of the Agreste heir acting like a kid.

You got this, Adrien. Nino's DJ-ing, your classmates came -even though most of them don't care about fashion- with any luck Alix and Kim will tease you about it for the next month.

That would give Adrien the opportunity to dish out a bunch of jokes he never got the chance to use!

The music started; that was his cue.

You got this!

Adrien posed on the runway. Camera flashes already starting. Strutting down the catwalk Adrien smirked at Marinette. See? Stopping at the platform's end he posed in various angles for the photographers. Nino seemed to be enjoying himself too and that made Adrien's smile come much more naturally.

A small eruption boomed behind him and Adrien turned to see Hawkmoth's latest fashion disaster. Gasping, as his heart started hammering in his chest.

"A fashion show without the Queen of Style!? Glitter-ally unacceptable!" The akuma villain announced. "Where's that ungrateful Gabriel Agreste. I demand that he kneels before me!"

Ugh, what has he done now?

"My father isn't here," Adrien snapped in annoyance. Hearing people running for the exits.

"Well, then. If fashion disaster daddy isn't here I'll just have to settle for Agreste Junior! You're fired!"

Adrien's eyes widened as he stepped back. Golden glitter exploding everywhere as his body became numb and his senses dark-

-Glowing ladybugs swirled around him as Adrien had the disorienting feeling of laying  down when he could've sworn he'd been standing. Glancing around, Adrien realized he was now at the Eiffel Tower.

"Adrik- Adrien!" Chloe tackled him as he stood, throwing her arms around him. "I was so scared!"

Adrien blinked in surprise as Chloe set her head on his shoulder. Not letting him go... Adrien smiled as he hugged her back. Enjoying this genuine display of affection.

"Pound it!"

Head snapping towards the sound Adrien saw another Black Cat, this one a girl with long, reddish hair, fist bump Ladybug. They grinned at each other in post battle relief.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

A chill to rival Frozer's ice covered Adrien from head to toe. It was one thing to see Ladybug working with a different Black Cat on the news. Quite another to have his replacement. Three. Frickin. Meters. In front of him!

Chloe didn't notice... Or rather Adrien didn't notice when she'd let go to help her mother. Who tried to fire her own daughter as thanks.

Adrien jerked his eyes away from the superhero duo-

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

-Away from the Miraculous holders and forced himself to listen to whatever the Bourgeois were saying. Ears ringing as Ladybug and the Black Cat talked about something behind him...

"Oh, mom. If only you knew what a great team we made!" Chloe trailed after her mother as they walked down the tower's stairs; attempting to capture her attention. "We fired a bunch of incompetents. It was awesome. We should really spend more time together! What if I went back to New York with you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Casserole- Eh, Chloe!" Audrey dismissed. "First I have to get back to Gabriel Agreste's fashion show. And they better..."

Adrien's eyes narrowed as he looked down from the railing, his grip on it tightening. Heat from a growing indignation melting the ice he felt. What did she just call Chloe?

"Adrien Agreste, right? I can give you a lift back if you want."

His tensed body jerked in surprise as Adrien realized Ladybug was standing right behind him. Throat and chest constricting as his thoughts whirled. Spots darkened his vision as he felt lightheaded. Adrien's knuckles becoming white, the metal railing digging into his skin. A single thought rose above the ringing in his ears.

I don't wanna talk to her.

Giving his best model smile, Adrien schooled his features. "Ah, thanks but-" he pointed down, "-I should really check on them."

"O-oh! Of course!"

Ladybug's face was out of focus but Adrien could still feel the melancholy in her voice.

Powering past his queasy stomach Adrien made his way to the stairs. The sound of Ladybug's yo-yo whirring reached his ears; signaling her departure. Adrien took a shuddering gasp as he leaned against a metal pillar for support. Body suddenly limp.

Breath accelerating Adrien tried to calm himself. Why was he up here? Had- Had Audrey's blast mind controlled him? Again!? He couldn't breathe.

Adrien sank to his knees as he felt his skin crawl at the idea of that- that- asshole reaching into his mind and taking away his free will. He hated it! He HATED it!

Gasping as his rage broke him out of the panic, Adrien steadied his breathing... He wanted- no, needed to know what happened... Which meant getting up and moving forward... Forcing himself to his feet Adrien wiped the sweat from his brow and followed the others down.

---------------

"Remind me to tell your father to fire the person in charge of the Eiffel Tower elevators..." Audrie panted. "This is... unacceptable... utterly unacceptable!"

"Of course, mom. Oh!" Chloe glanced down to see what she'd stumbled on.

Adrien looked up as he fanned himself with Marinette's hat.

And dropped it.

He stared open mouthed at the small, black, octagonal box in Chloe's hands. Heartbeat leaping into his throat.

What the hell is THAT doing here!?

"Ooh! What's this?" Chloe turned the box around in her hands but didn't open it.

Adrien suddenly forgot his exhaustion and rushed to her side. The lie coming easily to his lips. "Oh, I recognize that! They sell them at antique shops."

"Ew, it's old! Get it away from me!" Chloe practically hurled it at Adrien.

Catching it easily. A thrill ran up Adrien's arms and down his spine as the box made contact with his skin. The hairs at the back of his neck standing on end.

Chloe dusted her hands and kept walking. Glancing nervously at her mother. Hoping Audrey hadn't seen her with something so outdated.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! The voice in his head said.

Shut up, Adrien told it as he stared at the unknown Miraculous in his hand. Heartbeat hammering in his chest. But it wasn't from fear. No, it was... anticipation.

The corners of Adrien's lips curled upwards.

------------------------------

Notes: Oh, would you look at that. I'm back! It only took... eight months!

[jaeminscoffee]

6:45 PM

Pairing- Lee Jeno x reader.

Genre- Angst, Fluff.

Word count- 1.91k

Warning- False accusation, Jeno seems a little thick headed but he was just caught up in the heat, mention of breaking up but not really :))

Summary- Not the ideal off day with your loved ones that you were looking for.

"You need to tell me what's wrong, Jeno."  you demand with a stern voice, having had enough of the way your boyfriend was acting. 

Earlier today Jaemin, a good friend of yours, a best friend of Jeno's had come over, reason being missing his two best hype mates and not getting much time to spend with you after having a hectic schedule. 

Jeno was fine the first two hours, interacting well, cracking stupid tacky jokes, sometimes even ganging up with Jaemin to make fun of you. But you noticed the gradual strip out of his patience, furrowing his eyebrows or gripping the pillow in a death grip. His subtle glares towards his friend was not given a blind eye, you noticed it all. Typical Jeno. He's always been a little jealous over your slightly curved affection for others. 

It was only when he did something he's never done throughout the years of one, your relationship, two Jaemins friendship that had you completely shocked. 

"I have nothing to tell you, Y/n" He replied with the same tone he held an hour ago after the guest left the house. You weren't going to buy his bullshit. 

"You screamed at Jaemin asking him to get out. Do you still have nothing to tell me?" you ask, walking up to where he sat by the edge of the bed. 

"I said i have nothing to tell you." Voice hoarse, the veins on his neck protruding prominently from how strained his jaws were. "Well you do." You spit out as soon as you stood in front of him, his gaze still fixated on the floor. 

"I. Don't." he repeated the words through gritted teeth. For a normal person, he'd be extremely intimidating and would've had the other weak in their knees from how threatening he sounded. Fights are normal for any couple but the last you'd heard him use this tone was when someone tried to touch you at a club you went to for the weekend.

"Then I do. Jaemin's your best friend for god's sake! He came in here, wanting to spend some quality time with us and he was an absolute sweetheart throughout even! And what do you do? Scream at him? For what? He seemed so hurt! What must he be thinking right no-!" 

"Enough!" Jeno stood up, towering over your much smaller figure with his as he narrowed his eyes down at you, nose flaring. You wouldn't be shocked if he started breathing out flames. 

You jump from the sudden raise of his voice, having to crane your neck to look up at him, hands shaking the slightest from the flinch you just experienced. 

"Jaemin this, Jaemin that. Who's your boyfriend, huh?" He started walking forward, almost stepping on your toes if you hadn't moved back, "Actually, he might as well be! You're always on about him and now you even want to go defend him" he poked at your right shoulder, pushing you back as you gaped at his words, completely taken aback by his assumption. 

"All i wanted was one fucking day to spend with you but nope! You want your dearest Jaemin with you. All the fucking time! Do you not love me anymore, Y/n?" Jeno let out an exhale, pushing you back with a single finger still on your shoulder, making you step back, "Jen-" "No you wanted me to tell you what's wrong right? Hear me out then!" 

"Is Jaemin all you think about, Y/n? Is that why you're getting so worked up over me shouting at my best friend?? Emphasize the word, my. My best friend, why is it affecting you? Huh?" He raised his voice once again, you turn your head to the side, crunching up the facials trying to make out why he's making this a big deal. It was his fault to begin with. 

"You want him that much then just go to him right! Or you want both of us because i won't be shocked at that, you're a sucker for anything remotely good looking anyways you won't hesitate to run your mouth all over town-!" Jeno stopped midway to completing his sentence, now noticing your glazed eyes and the heavy puffs of air you took. 

"are you done?" you ask with trembling voice, Jeno opened his mouth to speak but you held your hands up, stopping him, "If this is about Jaemin-" Jeno took in a sharp breathe, hands going from poking at your shoulder to holding your shoulder in a tight grip at the mention of his best friends name. Though the grip was bruising, you muster up all the strength you had, removing his hands from you, quickly stepping back to create some space between the two of you. 

"Then he's my friend too." you step back once again as Jeno stood his ground. "But if you heard yourself and actually think of me that way. You're more than welcome to just break things off." you grab the door knob as a tear slipped out, turning away to shield the weakness from your boyfriend who's head is stuck up his butt at the moment, and dashed out the room. 

"Y/n wait-" you hear him call out for you, footsteps shuffling close behind but you grabbed the car keys, wanting away from him to clear your mind the least. One of you should stay sane. 

Driving away to your safe space, the old library that took a journey of around 25 minutes, which is most likely to be 'anything living and breathing'-free as not many knew of that place, which made you love it even more. 

Whiffs of old bookcases are calming.

 You were pleased to find out your assumptions were correct, not a single soul other than a tired out cashier who seemed long passed out, given he failed to hear the ringing of the entrance opening. 

You make your way to the extreme back, not particularly wanting to read anything with your thoughts clouded, allowing yourself a seat you found at a secluded corner. 

You take your phone out, that had been vibrating since you left home after Jeno's sudden outburst, ignoring them, wanting him to feel bad for what he's done throughout the day, you scroll through your phone searching for Jaemin's contact, opening up messages to type in a quick apology for your boyfriend's behavior, explaining it must've been the the fatigue that got to him, but made sure to tell him not to wave off this behavior and screw him when they meet later. 

Getting a reply almost immediately, you were shocked to find out Jaemin was still as bubbly as ever, saying it's fine and that he didn't take anything to heart which just made you feel even guiltier than you already felt. 

Texting back and forth, Jaemin being more than ready to keep you company after you narrated what had happened back home, cracking jokes to make you feel better when you wantedly missed out on a few parts to tell him, you jolt when you feel a hand tear you away from the screen and the table in front of you, pulling you into a tight embrace. 

Warmth being familiar, you resist the urge to hug him back, not even bothering to ask him how he'd known where you'd be at as this is known to be the place you go to calm your mind, rather all those cliché places like the bridge or a cliff, or the beach, or taking a stroll in the twilight whatsoever. 

"Y/n I'm so so sorry, please don't run off like that again" he spoke, Jeno mimicked your voice from before, this time quivering with guilt. "Let go, Jen" you spoke with a voice void of all emotions, tables turning as you mirrored his voice from the time of the argument.

"No, I won't, I'm so sorry, I meant nothing of what I said! Trust me, I was just being unreasonable and petty, i would never want to let go of you. I'd be an idiot if i did so" he spoke against your hair, grip around you tight, yet delicate, soft enough for you to step out if you'd wished. 

"Yes you were." you reply, slowly raising your hands to feather over his elbows as he pressed you further against his chest, "I know. I'm really sorry, love. I was just jealous is all. And it had been a rough week at work and all that got to me but trust me when I say I'll do anything to repent just, please don't let my words get to you" he caressed your back. 

"Those were all words of spiked up anger, and i really want to throw myself off a cliff, I'm really sorry, i am" he pulled away enough to place a peck on your forehead. 

"you'll do anything?" you repeat his words for confirmation, finally allowing yourself to throw your hands around his torso. You look up at him, seeing a faint crimson at the white of his eye, the hue being really pale that you'd not make out if you stood a couple yards away. He must've shed some tears, just like you. 

"Anything." with a nod, he hesitantly placed a delicate kiss on your lips, scared you'd shatter if he'd pressed any harder. 

"house chores for a week." you narrow your eyes at him, not wanting to drag the fight for long as it'd only take a negative toll on your relationship. 

"Okay!" Jeno's face evidently lightened up, quick to think he's forgiven, "thank you for forgivin-"

"Don't be so sure on that, boy. You still have one thing left to do until I completely forgive you" you step back, turning to walk back towards the exit, fishing for the car keys from the back pocket of your jean, turning around and throwing the keys at him swiftly, his reflexes allow him to catch it. 

"You're driving to Jaemin's house and begging for an apology, right now." it was only the right thing to do even after the lad insisting on not being hurt. Jeno is his best friend, it's always sucky when you have your friend mad at you without knowing what you did. Worse if you didn't actually do anything. 

"You have it." Jeno exclaimed, walking towards you as the two of you made your way to the exit. "you're doing it the way i want you to, though", you turn your body towards him after both of you stood by the door of the passengers side. 

"And how do you want me to do it?" He inquired, leaning against the car. "First tell him exactly what you said to me" Jeno nodded, agreeing to do that, "Then give him a tight hug and repeat sorry until he swats you away" he contemplated for a moment, but eventually ended up agreeing to it too. "And then.. Give him a kiss on the cheek." Your boyfriend let out a sound of protest, leaning back further onto the surface. 

"Do i really have to??" he asked, whining. 

"Yes."

"Like, really? really?" 

"Mhm"

"for real? Real? Is it that important?" you let out a sigh at his constant poking at your side as he pushed further with the question. 

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?" you ask, voice demanding, a hint of teasing evident. "Yes!" he was fast to reply. 

"Then give him a kiss. "

[celestialevie]

Weddings and what could’ve been’s // F.W. x F! Reader

Hi! This is my first ever posted fic, I hope you’ll like it!

PAIRING: Fred Weasley x F! Reader

Genre: Angst 

Summary: You’ve been friends with Fred since forever. But what happens when the one you love is not feeling the same and now he’s getting married to the girl he loves. Based off of this song :))

Word count: 2.5k

It was supposed to be a good day. Waking up, getting ready for another day of writing her novel about picturing a certain red head as love interest of her novel. But it all flushed down when she saw a small envelope just sitting there on the table, almost as if it was mocking her. It's been sitting there ever since it arrived yesterday afternoon, not expecting to receive an invitation to the wedding of one person she didn't want to participate in. Fredrick Gideon Weasley. Her best friend since their second year of Hogwarts. It was almost ironic how a simple wedding invitation can break a heart that's already been on the verge of breaking, tears were rolling down her face, not a single sound could've been heard besides her sobs. Her best friend/roommate ran out of her room as soon as she heard her. Not expecting to see her best friend on the floor crying over a single paper, she realises what happened, the one thing she dreaded even though it was only a matter of time before it happened. The way Fred was talking about that girl, she knew that her best friend was in a wait of a permanent broken heart. But now a day later, she decided to throw the invitation in the rubbish, deciding no matter how much she cared about her best friend she knew she wouldn't be able to handle watching him promising himself to someone else for forever. Taking out a bottle of her favourite rose, she pours some of it in a glass and heads back to her room, deciding to forget about her heartbreak by throwing herself into her fictional world where she was the one Fred loved. 

 Soon, she'll realise that not even wine and her own fictional world would help cure her broken heart. Not when the one she's so in love with decided so pay her a visit, not hearing anything from her in over a week. He wondered if she got the invitation to the wedding, the day he couldn't wait for it to finally happen. The thing is, he's not going to be able to do it, if his soulmate in a form of his best friend isn't there by his side, making sure he doesn't panic like he often happens to do in stressful situations. 

Upon hearing knocking on her door, she slowly gets up from her desk, heading to open the door, not expecting to see the person she wanted to see the least, standing in front of her. 

Every day they were closer to the day that changes everything for forever. One of them was dreading that day, while the other one couldn't want for it to come any sooner. Soon it was the day of rehearsal dinner or also known as the day before it all goes shit show for her. Everything was ready, her outfit ready for tomorrow. Deciding she wasn't strong enough to make it through the wedding alone, she begged her best friend to go with her, helping her survive with alcohol. The wedding was in the backyard of The Burrow, but it wasn't anything special or near as big as it was Bill's, both Fred and Lillian agreeing it was best to have a smaller intimate wedding with their closest ones there. Apparating a minute away from The Burrow, she walks towards the door, knocking softly before entering the house. Everyone was on their feet, final preparations for tomorrow are being made. Ginny was the first one to notice her, running towards the girl. Brining her in the hug, she laughs. '' Hi Ginny '' they pull away from the hug, Ginny looking at the girl. '' You look gorgeous y/n. I'm still angry at my brother for not marrying you. '' y/n rolls her eyes playfully. '' Stop it, you know we would never work as a couple, plus Lillian is a lovely girl, I'm sure she'll be a good sister-in-law. '' they talked as they walked upstairs heading towards Ginny's room.  What no one knew is that the night of the Yule ball, Fred was ready to confess his dying crush on his best friend, that's why he brought her to the astronomy tower. He had it all planned out  until they were interrupted, and it was all ruined. Fred often wondered if they hadn't been interrupted would've it been her who he was marrying. Would it work out or would it fail and therefore ruin their friendship. George was the only one along with Lee who knew about it. That's why the night before the wedding he found himself sitting in front of the small lake they had behind their house, wondering if Lillian is truly the one he wants to marry. Y/n found him after a few minutes, joining him. '' I knew I'd find you here. '' he said nothing, just kept looking in front of him. '' What's bothering you, Freddie? '' she gently took his hand into hers, brushing her thumb gently across his hand. '' I'm just worried if I'm making a mistake or rushing this. Before tonight, I couldn't been happier waiting for this day to finally come, but now that it's here all my mind seems to do is make me wonder if I'm marrying the wrong girl. Maybe I should just marry you, we've been friends for forever, it wouldn't change much. '' he lets out a small laugh. Letting go off his hand, I grab his face with my hands on both sides of his face. '' Fred I need you to look at me. Do you love Lillian? '' he nods his head. '' I don't think I've ever loved anyone the way I love her. '' a small smile appears in the corner of his mouth. '' Do you see yourself being with her for the rest of your life? Is she the one you want to see growing old with you? '' y/n questions him. Fred waits for a few seconds before answering, with a big smile on his face. '' Yeah, I do. God, why was I even doubting this. This is why I need you by my side, you always know how to get me out of my head. Thank you, love. '' he pulls her into a strong hug. '' Hey, if you need a getaway car tomorrow, me and George will have one prepared and then we can get married. '' she joked, even though there was some half truth in it. '' it's late, I have to go get that beauty sleep for tomorrow so do you. Goodnight Freddie. '' she plants a small kiss on his cheek before apparating herself back to her flat, before crashing down in the middle of living room, bursting into tears of heartbreak. The pieces that weren't shatter from before, had shattered now. There were no pieces left of her heart. The rest of the night she spent in the arms of her best friend, crying herself to sleep. 

 It was funny really. The story of how they met, how they became inseparable and how she eventually fell in love with him. The latter didn't come to much of a surprise. How could someone not fall in love with him, when he's the most amazing person she's ever come across. It was their second year in Hogwarts, and she was heading towards the library, deciding to prepare herself for the upcoming Potions exam. Merlin knows how much she dreaded those. It wasn't her fault, most people on her mom's side of family never really knew how to do potions. As she was walking there, someone grabbed her by her arm and started dragging her away with them in a direction of the nearest broom closet. In a second she realised it was one of the Weasley twins. Not even needing to ask why he was in such a hurry, already knowing they caused another trouble. Quickly running inside the broom closet, one of the twins put a hand on her mouth, signalling for her to be quiet. Rolling her eyes, she did as told until we heard Filch and Mrs. Norris passing by. Another minute passed on until he removed his hand from her mouth. '' I'm Fred. '' he introduced himself. '' Y/n '' she shook his hand. '' Care to explain why you dragged me into this dusty broom closet with yourself? '' Fred laughed. '' Had to move you out of the way from Filch or else you'd be in the trouble along with me. '' nodding her head, she left the closet. And that was the beginning of their weird friendship. From participating in the pranks, to making excuses why they're not in the certain classes you shared with them to Fred asking her to go to the Yule Ball with him, leading us to the night they had almost kissed. Somewhere in between she slowly fell for her best friend without intending to. It all felt like a dream. Dancing with her best friend so closely, to sneaking off to the astronomy tower because that night, the stars were shining so bright. Slow dancing in the moonlight, it all felt almost to perfect. Both of them slowly leaning towards each other until they heard a crashing noise, interrupting their intimate moment. It made her realise that it was for the best for them to be just friends, their friendship being worth more than a relationship not knowing how it'll end. Almost as if it was a silent agreement between them, neither of the two brought it up ever again. She would never want to ruin his day, so yes she had agreed to be his second best man, no matter how much it'll hurt to be there so up close seeing it all unfold almost like in a film scene. 

Next morning when she woke up, she felt so exhausted while getting ready. She barely had any energy in her body and she was pretty sure she also had no tears left. Putting on her beautiful dress, she did her makeup and hair. She was ready to stand there next to her best friend, and watch him marry the love of his life, no matter how much the fact that it's not her hurted. It was a beautiful ceremony, he looked so beautiful in his dark blue suit, it really made his hair and eyes stand out a bit more, and don't her started on how beautiful the bride was. Her gown looked straight out of a fairytale. A few tears espaced during the ceremony but when George asked her why is she crying, she brushed it off as happy tears, even though she knew she didn't fool George with that lie. During the reception she mostly stayed at her table, trying to drown her sorrow in the wine and other alcoholic drinks. She watched as her roommate/best friend danced with George along with watching Fred and Lillian dance together like it was only two of them. Molly and Ginny often came and talked to me, but it wasn't long until I couldn't handle it anymore and just drowned the rest of my drink before saying goodbye to everyone, making an excuse saying she unfortunately had to go home and finish her book, her publisher gave her a deadline until tomorrow. The last person left to say goodbye to was Fred. Tapping him on the shoulder, she gives him a smile as he turns around. '' Congratulations Freddie boy once again. But I have to leave now unfortunately, I have a book to finish. '' Before she could even say anything he took her hands and put them around his neck, pulling her closer to him. '' Just this one dance and then I'm setting you free, okay? '' He begged her. Nodding her head, they start slow dancing. '' I'm really proud of you Freddie, you finally found the one you always talked about. Hopefully one day I'm gonna find my prince charming one day. '' she rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. '' I'm sorry I wasn't the one for you. '' he said, making the tears slowly start pooling in my eyes. '' That's not for you to apologise, we're too good friends for us to work in a relationship. Us not kissing that night of the yule ball was for the best. If we kissed who knows if you'd meet Lillian, your true love. Don''t you worry about me. '' and with that she pulled away from him, placing a small kiss on his cheek before apparating home. Letting him stand there alone, her words sinking in, making him wonder again if he had made a mistake by not letting her know of his feeling that night. But soon his thoughts were brushed away as he felt the lips of his wife on his.

'' Hello love '' he greets her after she moved aside, letting him in. Pulling her into a hug, he goes into the living room, while she still stands there shocked at her door. Quickly getting rid of her thoughts, she heads over to where he was. '' Hi Freddie, what are you doing here? I didn't expect you to visit. '' she sits down next to him. '' Well it's been over a week since I've last heard from you, so I decided to pay you a visit. She nods her head. '' Yeah, sorry about that. I started working on my novel again and that's all I've focusing on recently. Didn't mean to neglect your need for constant attention. '' she jokes, even though she knew he had his fiancée know to give him attention. Fred rolls his eyes. '' Yeah yeah whatever. Listen I have a question/favour to ask you. '' she furrows her eyebrows. '' Okay, I'm listening. '' taking a deep breath, he begins. '' So as you probably know I proposed to Liliana. Speaking of that, have you received my invitation to the wedding? '' it's been over a month since they got engaged, and yet she still couldn't bare the thought of losing Fred forever. '' Yes I have, it's very beautiful Freddie, I am very happy for the two of you. '' she gives him her best fake smile, not wanting to upset her best friend. '' Thank you, love. My question is, would you like to be my second best man? Along with George of course. I don't think that I would be able to do it without you by my side. Please say yes or at least think about it. It would really mean everything to me. '' This was definitely something she hadn't expect. There goes your plan on not going to the wedding, making an excuse of why she can't make it and get drunk in her room while watching her favourite romcoms. '' Of course Freddie, anything for you. '' those words came out before you even had a chance to think about them.