#arden’s one shots

[weirdmixofweirdness]

Sing for Me (story for @iamvegorott ); Murdock and Noir story

Noir wasn’t surprised by his current situation. As an Investigative Engineer, he was used to being cornered by goons. This time, however, it seemed he was running this solo. No partner with him, no backup. He was alone.

“Not so big now, are ya, Dick?” The boss was inches away from his face, smiling devilishly. All around them were men holding guns, ready to fire.

“I don’t know,” Noir replied.

“Maybe I have something up my sleeve,” the IE forced a smug smirk on his face. The goons weren’t too bright. They just got lucky. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be able to read his bluff.

“Look at dis guy!” The leader laughed, gesturing in Noir’s direction.

“Too up his own ass to admit he lost,” he made a hand motion for the goons to come closer. The guys follow suit.

“Dat is, unless you sing fer us,” the kingpin threatened.

“Right. Now,” there was a pause between both words. This was it, Noir thought. He was done. All his guns were stolen by this group. His method of communication was destroyed. He was surrounded in a small alley, no room to escape. He was dead. The IE quickly thought over his life. He was the happiest he had been in years. He found a new family in the Ipliers. He had a loving boyfriend. Everything seemed to be going right. It figured that this would happen, then. Joy wasn’t meant for the likes of him. Hell, maybe he deserved—

A hummed melody suddenly echoed down the brick walls. A beautiful, haunting sound. The goons’ weapons were put down, all of them directing their gaze to the alley’s entrance. The humming figure slowly made his way down the alleyway. He continued humming as he went. Each of the men were yearning, burning to hold this man in their arms; to be the only source of the man’s attention. As he came closer, Noir could instantly tell who it was.

‘There’s my crow,’ he thought. Noir was as entranced as the others, if not more. Why were the others here? Why did they think they had a chance? Murdock was his and his alone. All hatred for possessiveness was numbed by pure, overwhelming adoration. Murdock was a treasure, a horde of gold in a dragon’s cave. He was meant to be kept for oneself, to be prized over all else. The murderer made his way to the head of the group. His eyes, covered by shades, were focused solely on this man. The others looked at their leader, enraged. They were ready to shoot him right in the head to win the killer’s heart. The tune faded out as when Murdock was in front of the boss.

“Hello,” Murdock drew out his words, voice smooth like silk.

“What brought you here, handsome?” He cooed.

“Uh,” all at once, the kingpin was at a loss for words.

“My-my boys and I are, uh…teachin’ a guy a lesson.”

“Well, well,” the killer let out a low rumble of a laugh.

“You certainly mean business,” the murderer cupped his hand against the other’s face.

“Yeah,” the boss replied as if he were drunk.

“You want to really prove it?” Murdock asked. The leader numbly nodded his head.

“Put that gun to your head,” his voice got lower, yet kept its soft tone.

“Wh-what?” The leader stuttered. His mind was gradually sobering up.

“Why would I—?”

“I said,” Murdock tore off his sunglasses, revealing swirling, purple eyes. His hand remained on the man’s face, keeping his eyes on him.

“Put the gun to your head,” he spoke slower. The boss was quickly pulled back under. He ripped his gun from the holster on his pants. The man then cocked the weapon, pressing it against his temple. His gaze remained on Murdock, glued to his purple spirals. The killer removed his hand from the man’s face. He knew what to do next.

“Now, pull the trigger,” he watched, a smirk on his face, as the leader’s gun went off. The man fell to the ground, blood splattering throughout the general area. The murderer put his glasses back on. He turned his attention to the goons. They were all shaking in their once perfectly shined shoes.

“Run,” he threatened. The men darted away from the scene. A smile grew on his face as he made his way to Noir. The IE was lightly swaying.

“Now that,” Noir slurred.

“Is some power I can respect.”

“Okay,” Murdock chuckled. He placed his arm around his partner’s shoulders.

“Let’s get out of here,” the murderer then guided him home. There, they would have time to…celebrate this victory. After Noir had sobered up, of course.

[ardentprose]

Candlelight Candor

A/N: This is the first public one shot I've written in a very long time so bear with me as I find my footing again.

Type: just sweet and simple fluff; Foggy Nelson x reader

Length: 4.8k~ | 20 min

Warnings: cursing; minor suggestive thoughts; fem!reader

Feel free to message me if a necessary warning isn't mentioned.

Summary: the worst storm of the decade, an unreliable old building, and being alone with your crush, Foggy Nelson

Hell hath no fury like a New York Nor’easter. It didn’t matter whether you had grown accustomed to the brutal winters in the city that never sleeps, because each summer lulled you into a false sense of serenity before winter struck again, the sky darkened, and ten inches of snow were threatening to bury the streets.

Any sane person would be hunkered down in their home, buried under an appropriate amount of blankets, and soundly sleeping away the precious hours gifted by the closing of the workplace.

Any sane person not in love, that is.

When you got the call that Karen was trapped north of the city, as the town she was investigating was hit with the storm first, you were tempted to hang up and go back to sleep. But how could you say no to:

“Good morning, sunshine!”

It took an embarrassingly small amount of convincing for Foggy Nelson to coax you from your haven and come to his law firm to lend an extra hand in the last day leading up to a case. The enigmatic lawyer had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it.

As you tugged on your heavy duty winter coat and forced your triple socked feet into your boots, you dearly wanted to curse the man for taking advantage of your infatuation. Of course, in his mind, he thought you were just a dedicated friend, and while that may be true, it would be more honest to say you were at his beck and call because you were in love with him.

Consequently, you find yourself hunched over a small desk in a small law firm with poor heating, hoping the feeling in your fingers returns.

And that was before the lights went out.

Precarious flames flicker among documents scattered across whatever surface area could be spared. Careful of the two candles flanking your papers - one cinnamon spice and another the supposed ‘scent of rain’ - you hunch lower and squint, trying to make connections between the paragraphs of legal precedents and other such jargon in the wavering light.

You don’t know how much longer you can strain your neck, scrounging every line of text for a loophole or mistype that will get this case thrown out. The ache in your neck grows insistent until you are forced to lift your head and roll your shoulders to appease the pain for a moment. Your eyes, sore from reading in dim light, fall on the lawyer across from you, taking in the welcome sight of him compared to dull printed texts.

Albeit, Foggy sits across from you in a similar position, muttering from down-turned lips as frustration pinches his expression. Occasionally, he heaves a sigh or grunt through clenched teeth as he hits another dead end. Even still, you allow yourself a small smile at how the orange flames cast warmth on his blond locks, causing them to shimmer like spun gold between the shadows.

A prick of alertness wakes you from your dreamy gaze and casting your eyes around you for the sixth sense of being watched, you find the other partner of the firm, Matt Murdock, smiling in your direction as if he could see you.

Your smile falls immediately, though the endeavor is fruitless as your remaining blush gives you away. Despite not having vision, you knew Matt caught you making heart eyes again at your ‘strictly professional legal friend’. It wasn’t the first time Matt sent you an impish smirk or raised his brows in question at your obvious pining. Especially when you laughed too loudly at Foggy’s quips. But what about it? You liked a sense of humor in a man and Foggy Nelson was a comedian in your enamored eyes.

The maddening thing was Matt doesn’t even pause his reading, skirting over lines of Braille with the same urgency as Foggy muttering out paragraphs of legalities.

You roll your eyes and Matt’s grin widens, but you choose to ignore him, checking your wrist watch for the time.

Your glance never makes it to your wrist, but diverges instead to the window when a sudden bang knocks the glass within it’s frame. The forceful wind rattles the glass with vengeance until it settles into an ominous vibrato. It wasn’t the first time that hour, but the three of you jump in your seats all the same.

“For Pete’s sake, this case better be able to fix that goddamn window.” Foggy curses, rubbing a palm over his heart from the abrupt break in silence.

“We have to win the case in the first place.” You lament, heaving a sigh to regain a normal heart rate.   

“We have less than an hour to find a reasonable cause to dismiss this case. But I’m pretty sure I’m reading algebra right now for all the good these candles are doing.”    Foggy groans, tussling his hair into a visible display of his perturbation. Your eyes follow the motion, happy to see something other than poorly lit paper stimulate your vision, though you sympathize with his annoyance.

“Justice never sleeps.” You quip and Foggy matches your wry smile.

“Of course the courthouse is open.” Foggy continues, flipping over another page. “Hell has frozen over but did the courthouse care? Did they reschedule? Of course not! Why indulge the safety of their tax-paying citizens when they could freeze them to death instead?”

“Whoa there, Foggy, is that the hangover talking or just you?” Matt teases, his fingers hesitating over some lines as conversation picks up.

“If anyone is hungover it’s you and your stupid smile that somehow thinks it’s appropriate to make an appearance right now.”

“I’m not the one who suggested shots last night.”

“I’m not the one who drank them all.”

“Hey, I’ve been quiet and well-behaved this entire time.”

“Guys…twenty minutes…” You interrupt, your own sense of justice dwindling by the hour.

You were more than accustomed to the bickering between the two law firm partners. Despite not being a lawyer yourself, your paralegal abilities were usually called into action since being acquainted with Nelson and Murdock over a previous case. You didn’t even work for them, yet you found yourself here more often than your own office. You also found yourself playing referee alongside legal assistance. At this point, you had helped Foggy and Matt win so many cases and stay friends while doing so, that you were an honorary member of the firm.

Foggy flips a page before him, chin resting on his fist. “I say we call the courthouse and tell them we were trapped inside. Couldn’t open the front door cause of all the…”

He squints.

His eyes go wide.

“Fuck! I found the damned thing!”

A groan of relief resounds from Matt and he throws himself back into his swivel chair, spinning to the side slightly. You break into a smile, watching the candlelight twinkle in Foggy’s eyes with his newfound ecstasy.

“Will it help win the case?” You ask, voice soft if only because of your overwhelming affection.

“This piece of evidence - or should I say lack thereof, will get this case thrown out into the nearest dumpster!” Foggy exclaims, meeting your eyes with his own mirth. Your smile grows larger at this revelation.

Matt tilts his head and once more you feel that devil grin, but you refuse to meet his invisible gaze. However, your up-tick in heart rate betrays your fear of a much bigger revelation being exposed by the brunet lawyer.

Matt seems to spare you from your fears, speaking instead of the case at hand.

“Foggy, I don’t know what we’d do without you. I don’t know how I missed such an obvious detail right in front of me.”

As he stands up, Matt compiles his own version of documents into his briefcase.

“What an oversight on my part.”

He grins expectantly.

You throw your head back and groan, then lift your head in order to glare at Matt.

“That’s the last one, Murdock! You’ve hit your ‘blind’ joke quota for today.”

Matt pouts, jerking on his winter pea coat.

“It’s my law firm, I can make as many jokes as I want. Who am I offending?”

“It’s our law firm, buddy.” Foggy comes to your defense. “And your jokes are in poor taste only because they’re not funny.”

“Hey,” Matt lifts the strap over his shoulder and slides out from behind his desk. “I’m funny.”

“Funny-looking.” You tease. Foggy snorts and points the tip of his pen at you in approval. You bite your lip to keep your grin from spreading into ‘infatuated’ lengths.

“Now, I can’t help that,” Matt gestures to the glasses in his hand before slipping them onto his nose, “given, you know, that I’m-“

“No more!” You point your finger at Matt in warning.

“Alright, jeez. Tough crowd.” Matt grins, still clearly proud of his sense of corny humor.

Before he makes his way to the door, he turns partway to explain his departure.

“I’ll head out first to meet the client early. It’s gonna be hell catching a cab in this storm. Plus the traffic will be worse…you get it.” Matt sighs and snatches his cane from where it rests beside the entryway. He lifts it as a form of dismissal.

“Good idea. I’ll revise our argument first then head over. It shouldn’t take more than a few quick amendments.” Foggy says.

Matt nods and turns to leave.

You turn back to clean up your work, but your head snaps up when you hear Matt fall against the door.

“Are you okay?” You blurt as Matt pushes himself upright on the door.

“I misjudged the space between myself and the door.” He chuckles. “Can’t see anything with the lights out.”

“Leave.”

You turn your back on Matt and his snickering.

“I don’t know how you put up with him.” You say once he’s gone and Foggy rolls his eyes in similar exasperation.

“I’ve learned to stop questioning my life choices when it comes to Matt.”

You laugh, humming in agreement. You lift your gaze to hand Foggy the collected papers across the desk and find his eyes already on you.

Before you can contemplate why his eyes take their time traveling down your face to your outstretched hand, the his easy smile lowers into contemplation once he accepts the papers. He licks his lips and begins scribbling down notes with fervor. Now that the essential information has been found, you’re left with nothing else to do but leave it in the capable hands of the brilliant lawyer before you.

Before you realize it, you’re in a candlelight-induced trance, watching Foggy’s eagle sharp gaze flit back and forth. A small, petty part of you wishes his eyes held the same concentration on you instead of the paperwork. You knew from experience how nice it was to have Foggy’s attention on you.

Meeting Foggy Nelson was like the sun breaking through the clouds after a rainstorm. He had come into your life with undeniable presence and charm, which mostly stemmed from how Foggy was unapologetically himself in all contexts. He didn’t put on the airs of the egotistical disposition that many lawyers were known to have.

That’s not to say he didn’t speak up whenever he found himself in an immoral situation,  but more often than not, Foggy reserved his speeches for retelling the repertoire of stories he loved to share with those who spared him an ear. You, always a listener at heart, and therefore his dedicated audience, were usually in hysterics by the end of his theatrics.

Foggy never just told a story. No, he incorporated gestures, voices and facial expressions that brought the characters - real or not - to life. Karen and Matt had heard every story ten times over, but being the newest addition to the friend group, you took in every detail as if there was going to be an exam.

It was his larger-than-life personality that drew you in, but it was his quiet observations that captivated you. Foggy never used his social prowess to embarrass others - Karen and Matt excluded - only ever making himself the butt of jokes. If he teased you, it was only to tease you out of your shell. His questions were genuine and his gaze, reading your body language and expressions, hung on to every answer you offered him.

The first real conversation you had with him, he asked you about your background.

“So what gods - sorry, Matt, God - above orchestrated for you to be doomed with us as friends?” He asked, curiosity making his sincerity clear.

You told him your abridged life story - including the small role you felt you played, despite it being your own life. Foggy’s smile had waned into a wrinkled line and when you finished he looked at you as if you had just admitted to being from another planet.

“You are the sweetest person I know, with a beautiful heart, and I don’t think you know it. But the rest of us sure do.” His eyes sought yours long enough to ensure you believed his sincerity, then he quickly moved on to throw a jibe at Matt,, and the conversation returned it’s levity. You, however, were left reeling from his compliment.

And absolutely in love.

Doomed, more like. You muse, halting the trip down memory lane before you fell down the well-trodden path of self-doubt and hatred. You have been around long enough to hear stories of the women Foggy had dated, slept with, or fantasized about being with. You didn’t think you made the cut. You had no reason to. Foggy was an extraordinary friend but that didn’t qualify you to wish he did more than friendly things to you.

You focus back in where your eyes had taken the opportunity to stare at Foggy fingering the edges of documents while twirling a pen in his other hand. He settles the pen between his soft, pink lips, tapping it before he bites the cap, completed focused on the phrasing of his task.

A hair falls between his eyes, causing him to wrinkle his nose into an unbearably cute expression.

You send the chair stumbling backwards when you stand, and that focused gaze flies to you.

“I…um..I am…What time is it? I think we should start to head over.” You attempt to clarify.

Foggy removes the writing utensil from his teeth as his eyes analyze your abrupt movement. You feel exposed the longer he stares and start to grow nervous he somehow could hear your wayward thoughts about the dexterity of his fingers.

“Yeah…good call.” Foggy clears his throat. He stands up to gather his things and you step forward to help him.

Handing him a file, his fingers brush the back of your knuckles and your eyes flutter in response.

Cheeks warm despite the cold, you turn from Foggy and set about blowing out all the candles until you’re both left in the dark.

You walk to the door and rest your hand on the doorknob. Turning your wrist, you pull the doorknob out the socket.

Wait.

What?

You glance down at your hand.

“What the hell?” A sense of dread fills you.

“What’s wrong?” Foggy asks, immediately reacting to your alarmed tone.

When you don’t respond, he navigates his way around the desk and chairs in the dark to come to your aid.

You turn back to the door and stare at the vacant hole with consternation until you feel Foggy’s chest brush your left shoulder.

“What happened?”

The weight of the doorknob feels condemning in your palm. Foggy leans down, squinting through the dark. His cheek is inches from yours, his height enshrouding you as he peers at your hands, and any other time your heart would be beating out of your chest.

Well, it was, but for the wrong reason.

“Oh.” He says. “Shit.”

“I have no idea!” You insist before he can even turn his grave expression on you and ask. “I guess the other side of it came loose and just fell off.”

“Well. That’s just fantastic.” Foggy hooks his index in the hole and tugs hard. The door jiggles with his attempts but holds fast.

“So we’re locked in our own office?” you conclude.

Foggy growls in frustration. He stalks back over to the desk, muttering curses to himself.

“Perfect. Just perfect. Of course…worst day of my life…”

Foggy pats his waist down, pulls out his phone, and then hits the first speed dial button.

“Hey, Matt.” He says sharply. “…Yeah, the fucking handle fell off the door.”   

Morose, you glance down at the knob still in your palm.

“No, I don’t- Y/N turned the knob and it just fell off!….Yeah, I already did that.”

Foggy sighs, hums in affirmation before his shoulders drop.

“You sure? Yeah…ugh…fine yeah, okay.”

Matt must have asked for the new evidence Foggy was supposed to bring, you assume, as Foggy proceeds to explain the needed information and confirm Matt understood it all.

“Good luck, buddy. Don’t lose.”

Foggy hangs up, ceasing his pacing. His hand runs through his now tangled locks then drops to his waist. He looks at you with resignation.

“Matt says he can handle the case by himself. It’s not a full blown hearing so…he’ll come back as soon as he can. The case has already started so he doesn’t have time to run back here.”

“Oh.” The prickling sensation of tears burns behind your eyes. The last thing you want is to ever be the cause of Foggy’s stress. Hell, you spend most of your time trying to be as valuable to him as possible.

Foggy searches around him until he finds matches. He lights the nearest candle and then sits down behind his desk.

He frowns once he sees you haven’t moved from your tense stance near the entrance.

“Hey.”

Your eyes flit to his face and find Foggy smiling at you with his recognizable optimism. The kind of smile that feels like he’s sharing a secret joke with you. He drags your previous chair around the desk, beside his.

“C’mere and sit back down. We have at least three hours before Matt returns.”

You hum in assent, still clutching the doorknob as you make your way over.

Coming around the desk, Foggy’s hand darts out, shielding your hip from the sharp corner when you almost don’t clear it.

You jump at his fingers against your waist. Foggy jerks back just as quickly, his grimace apparent.

“Sorry! I didn’t want you to run into it. That corner in particular bruises like a bitch.”

You laugh, hoping the airy chuckle doesn’t betray how his fingertips ignited a reaction far from displeased within you.

“I appreciate it. And I assume you’re speaking from experience?” You sit down. Your knee brushes his, tingling with proximity. You’ve never had a reason to sit so close to Foggy before, even in the booths at bars, and without the light, you sense more than see his presence within your personal space.

Foggy snorts. “Yeah, of course. Matt does it all the time.”

“Oh, so you have practice holding his waist too?” You don’t know where this brazen energy arises from, but you blame it on the intimacy of being secluded in the office with Foggy and your only light source being a small flame that smells of cinnamon.

Foggy’s lips split before curving into a smirk. He narrows his eyes.

“Are you accusing me of making a grab at you?”

You shake your head frantically.    “No! Sorry, that was stupid. I-“

Foggy laughs, waving your apology away.

“I would hope you think more highly of me to at least buy you dinner first.” He reasons, pursing his mouth into an easy smile.

You bite your lip, eyes widening at the suggestion. Was he serious? Or were you letting your feelings cloud an obvious joke?

“Of course I think highly of you, Foggy.” You say, settling into the chair. You set the doorknob on the desk. Your brow furrows as it reminds you of how Foggy was trapped here with you instead of at the courthouse winning the case he’s worked so hard on.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Seriously, don’t feel bad about the door. This whole shitty place is falling apart.” Foggy gestures vaguely around him. Foggy must have mistaken your silence as guilt. He’s correct in assuming so, but why did he have to read you so damn well?

“No, I know…I just feel bad for you because you deserve to be in that courtroom.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it. Matt’s got it handled. I’m sure they prefer the handsome lawyer down there anyways. Case will go in our favor that way.” He chuckles.

“Handsome?” You frown, not getting the punchline.

His eyes flicker over your face as if to gage how serious you are being.

Foggy shrugs. “Out of the two of us, Matt’s the better lawyer, both in the legal department and looks department.” His half-hearted laugh fails to win you over.

“That isn’t- that’s not true.” You stumble over your words, because it would be foolish to deny the attention the brunet lawyer garners on a consistent basis. However, you weren’t about to accept Matt’s good looks at the cost of denying Foggy’s attractive features either.

Foggy snorts. He shakes his head, hair brushing his shoulders as he does so and you’re overcome with an intense need to make him realize just how important he is to everyone. To you.

“Foggy, you’re incredible to watch in action.”

Foggy’s frown is near comical with his exaggerated pout. You lean in, determined to convince him.

“Foggy, you’re a hell of a good lawyer, too. If Matt is so talented then he wouldn’t partner with someone who wasn’t on his level. The two of you have your own firm. Matt’s not your boss. He’s your equal. That goes for the ‘looks’ department as well. You’re an attractive, generous, compassionate lawyer and it’s a privilege to work with you.”

Foggy’s expression is unreadable as he listens to you rant. His eyes search your face, flitting back and forth with thoughts known only to him. His brow falters slightly and you fear he’s uncomfortable with your impromptu speech.

But eventually, that full mouth of his turns upwards.

Unfortunately, the smile he wears accompanies a glimmer in his eye that makes you lean back into your own chair.

Foggy follows you, invading your breathing space with the heady scent of his aftershave and a hint of shampoo akin to vanilla.   

“What other traits do I possess?”

All at once you realize how revealing your compliments are. Blooming crimson, you attempt a verbal retreat that Foggy has no intention of allowing.

“Oh, um…I didn’t-I just mean…”

“C’mon, tell me! Attorney client privilege.” Foggy winks, his grin upheld and only growing bolder as he rests his cheek on his fist, full attention on you now.

Well, you did wish for that.

“Technically, to be your client I would need to pay you first.” You throw out, if only to prolong the inevitable corner of confession he was backing you into.

“Aha! So you do learn a thing or two around this office. I’ll only charge you five bucks.” Foggy retorts easily enough.

“I don’t have money on me, but since you’ve been known to accept fruit baskets, would you accept other forms of payment?”

“What do you have in mind?” Foggy’s grin is downright devious.

Your eyes widen as you effectively have backed yourself into the corner you were trying to avoid.

A nervous laugh bubbles from your racing heart as you shake your head, waving your hand too for good measure.

“Nothing! I’m kidding, Foggy.”

“Blood money? Was it blood money?”

“No?…No, it was a stupid joke.”

“Tell me.” Foggy sits up, his demeanor becoming serious.

“Please?” He whispers.

You chew on your lower lip, trying to swallow down the thundering of your heart as silence permeates the dimly lit atmosphere between you two.

Maybe it’s the influence of the warm fire painting Foggy’s gaze in such a soft, accepting light, as if he already knows what you’re thinking - or is even feeling it too. Maybe it’s the months of holding back the truth from someone you would tell anything to in a heartbeat. Maybe it’s the hope that ultimately outweighs the anxiety that causes you to admit it.

No longer do the candles, blizzard, or darkness feel like a hindrance. Now they feel intimate, cozy, and warm.

Romantic.

“I was gonna say…something super corny like, “just my undying affection.” You feel like an idiot, grimacing with the confession.

Your eyes dare to check Foggy’s expression, knowing he’s probably gonna reel back in aversion.

Instead, Foggy scoffs, shaking his head slightly. “You’re affection? Jeez, now that’s nowhere near corny.” He purses his lips and his hair brushes his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Earning your attention, let alone your affection - damn, I would win a hundred cases for you, guaranteed!”

You want to blame the playful words as an excuse to ignore the sincerity in his tone, but your body reacts before you can, heart leaping with a thrill of joy and your lips begging for more.

“Guaranteed?”

“Nothing drives a man like his unwavering passion for the woman he adores.”

You must look crazed, in the throes of shock as your brain tries to process the meaning behind his words. Foggy adores you? Really?

Your mouth continues to take the lead.

“You mean that?”

Foggy lifts his hand in the distance between you, which is scarce, and hesitates a second before placing his warm hand atop both your hands picking at each other’s fingertips. The weight of his palm and the comfort of his grip squeezes your fretting hands still. You release a soft exhale.

“Y/n, I’ve never been more serious.    I’ve adored every detail of yours since you graced my office.”

You don’t know what to say, so you nod.

You keep nodding until it dawns that your feelings are reciprocated, perhaps more than you dared hope for.

And then you’re smiling, beaming, and still nodding, as Foggy brings the hand up from your grasp and cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb over in a silent hello before he presses his lips to your mouth.

You press in, feeling him wholly as mint overwhelms your senses. Your lips move with his, chin lifting as you chase his mouth and he meets you once more, applying pressure before he withdraws, and releases your bottom lip from his teeth.

You can’t see much in the dark anyways, but right now you can’t see a thing. Only spots that accompany the ringing in your ears. You might be light-headed too.

Your dazed silence breaks when Foggy’s whisper begins to escalate.

“Before I have a heart attack…tell me I didn’t screw this up. If I read it wrong and you were just joking-“

“No, no! It’s just…I can’t believe you like me back.” Your laugh is a soft exhale before a sharp intake of breath.

“This isn’t some ‘lights go out and we’re vulnerable in the dark confession.” Foggy says as he cups your face once more.

“I mean every word I say in the dark.” He kisses you again and you welcome his eager affection before he pulls back. You open your eyes just in time for the lights flicker on with a stumbling hum as the building regains power.

“And the light.” Foggy tacks on to his previous statement.

You snort, biting your lip in vain to stop your giddy smile.

“That was pretty fucking cool timing if you ask me.” He says, the same elated grin on his flushed visage.

“That was, I’ll admit.” You laugh. You run your tongue across your lips, savoring the taste of his kiss.

“I wish someone could have witnessed it.” Foggy continues to rave, basking in your growing smile of amusement.

“I did.”

Matt stands in the doorway with a wicked grin.

“Missing something?” He asks. Your eyes flit down to his hand.

The other side of the doorknob.

Matt waltzes over to the desk, grabs the doorknob, then returns to the entry and slides it back into place.

Your frown deepens when he unpockets a screw. Within ten seconds the door is fixed with a good rattle to test it out.

“Lucky thing the case got canceled. You guys would have been stuck in this room all night.” Matt says, passing you both on his way to his office. Presumably to start the next caseload.

Foggy breaks first, swiveling in his chair to jab a finger at Matt’s retreating back.

“You bastard!”

Matt spins around once he’s behind the door of his office. He gives ample time to leave his smirk on display as he closes the door in a slow, dramatic fashion until it clicks with finality.

And with it, a realization of his strange behavior today.

You gasp.

Matt never left the building.

[soup-guts]

My character for a dee en dee one shot

[deezbignutz]

More Redacted hc bc why tf not, yknow :))))) (this is also to make up for not doing Brachium and Christian but u don't need to know that-)

One time during their early stages of dating, Angel found out about henna from Baaabe and wanted to surprise David with it some cool squiggles and flowers knowing damn well he would have a strong reaction to it. He did in fact have a strong reaction to it, and so did Angel when they realised they were highly allergic to one of the ingredients used in henna and was immediately brought to the hospital by a very worried David.

Asher has a knack for finding the most unsettling and disturbing facts and sending them to Milo because he doesn't need to know about it at all and gets pissed when Asher texts him in the middle of something important. (Also, fun fact! Camel's piss is as thick as syrup and it was thought to have medicinal properties, so people back then mixed it with camel milk and drink it. It did not have medicinal properties and didn't taste very good)

Gavin has a taser that is bedazzled in pink gems with text written on the front saying "Get tased, b*tch". He bought it for himself some time ago in case some perv got a little too comfortable without his consent.

Damien has a bad habit of chewing on his bottom lip when he's frustrated or zoning out, and he has done it so much that it old cuts bleed on its own even when he isn't biting it. This has led Huxley to buying lip ointments and lip balms for him and placing them in Damien's and his bags whenever they go out, he also has them littered around his home whenever he comes over, in the pockets of his clothes in case they don't bring their bags when going out, and one more he brings everywhere for back up.

Once Freelancer got Caelum a lego set for him to fiddle with while they were doing their coursework. The next day when he finally finished it, they watched in horror as Caelum destroyed the set so he could build it all over again, since he didn't understanding that once you build it, it's done.

Christian has a designer brand crescent cross body bag (it's not designer, he just likes saying it is because it's one of the only expensive things he owns), and because of this, Arden and Kelsey have lovingly named him an eshay (which is a stereotypically hypermasculine Australian man who are inclined to crime and violence, or basically just an annoying Aussie brat who's obsessed with masculinity/a chav) much to his chagrin.

Sweetheart has half empty cups and mugs scattered all over their room with most of the liquid in it drying up or turning into syrup from all the water evaporating. It hasn't gone so far as for mold to start appearing, but it's definitely getting there.

Porter has collected many little things that remind him of Treasure ever since he met them in that club, such as a surprisingly shiny penny from the ground, a cartoony key with a swirly heart on the end of it, a golden ring with hands on it that when worn looks like arms hugging your finger, and many other things that he keeps in his bedside table.

Darlin' and Sam write notes to each other and lay them around the house for each other to see when doing their normal routine. Like, Darlin' would be in the kitchen making their morning coffee and see a sticky note stuck on top of the coffee machine with some sappy shit like "Love you to bits, my Darlin'<3 P.S. Stop putting so many damn shots in your coffee, you're gonna get heart problems one of these days".

Hope y'all enjoy :)))))))

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk :D)))))

[bluerthanvelvet444]

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚𝓓𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚

Kit Walker x fem!reader

tags: smut!!

warnings: murder, blood, fingering, p in v.

summary: reader and kit get paired up in the kitchen. Kit comforts her anddddd...you can imagine what happens next.

character count: 11k. yes. 11k. lost track of length while writing the plot.

full fic under the cut ↓

➽───────────────❥

May 14th, 1964.

People always said you were meant to be a teacher, that it was your role in the world, since kindness and patience have always been your best qualities. This is how you ended up in that pre-school in Massachusetts full of little sunshines that were absolutely fond of you and saw you as their older sister. It was the best job in the world in your eyes, and you were sure you were going to spend most of your days doing it. If only you knew.

That fateful day you were wearing a trendy but simply cut canary dress, slightly accentuating your waist, perfect for the warm weather of spring. Birds’ faint singing could be heard through the open windows, The kids were sitting around small tables while doing their drawings, and you looked at them lovingly while leaning your back on the chest of drawers that kept the children’s bags.

“Teacher! Teach-!” one of the little boys exclaimed to get your attention, but you cut him off.

“Joseph, I'll be there for you in a second, let me change the song first, alright?” You turned around to put the other vinyl in the player, and the tunes of ‘Hit the road Jack’ started playing. You waited a few seconds before turning around…and that was probably the biggest mistake of your life.

Hit the road Jack-BANG!

You quickly turned around as you heard that loud noise. What you saw next permanently changed your life. A tall man, all dressed in black, was holding a gun in his hands and had just shot one of your little kids. Before you could process anything, the gun was pointed at you, and…BANG! You fell to the ground. The bullet missed you and instead carved a little hole in the wall. You couldn’t feel anything, none of your senses worked, except for hearing.

Don’t you come back, no more-BANG!

no more-BANG!

no more-BANG!

no more-BANG!

Hit the road Jack-BANG!

You woke up by the police violently shaking your body. You were confused, and all around you was red. Red blood everywhere.

➽────❥

At first, the police was doing a fantastic job by trying to identify the killer. You had to do so many interrogations, but you felt like with your descriptions and help, the searching for the murderer was close to an end. The case was on all the TV channels and news, the whole state was thirsty for truth. It was when the police started looking into your past that things started to go wrong. You had a previous “arrest” for gun possession. Nothing too crazy, your uncle gave you one when you first started living alone, you realized your mistake, and you were released after a few days anyways. Then the moms of the poor little angels started to spread rumors about how you were “mean” to kids. That of course wasn’t true, they have always been pretty jealous of a young woman who got along with their children better than them. And you tried to explain that to the police, but they just seemed to get more suspicious. They believed that you randomly went crazy and shot all the kids, that would’ve explained how you were the only one who survived too.

Before you could know it you were charged of murderer, and your life sentence was to spend your whole life in an asylum. As bad as the situation was, you were hopeful that you were going to be treated better in an asylum than jail.

You were wrong. Briarcliff Manor was just another way to say hell. Nuns treated you horribly-except Mary Eunice- god bless that poor soul- and Dr. Arden was a living nightmare. You tried to stay as far as possible from him once you heard all the stories of his victims. People were REALLY crazy there…except one. Her name was Pepper. Sister Jude had introduced you two, insisting that you could bond over “baby murder”. You thought she really did it at first, so you kept distance. Pepper insisted on interacting with you, repeating the word “friend”. You glared at her, spitting words harshly.

“I'm not a murderer like you.”

Pepper frowned and started crying. Now she was saying the word “baby.” It was weird but, you felt sorry for her…something in you told you that she may have been not guilty. She dragged you into the library, then she showed you a magazine with the face of the popular star “Elsa Mars.”

“Mom.” She said, you looked at her confused, then Pepper pointed at the sentence written in the magazine “Elsa used to own a Freakshow before…” it was clear to you then.

“Did she put you here?” You asked. Pepper shook her head and mumbled the word “Sister”.

After a few weeks of befriending her, it was clear to you that Pepper was the living representation of “never judge a book by its cover”.

➽────❥

Two months later.

You were playing-at least trying to play-chess with pepper in the common room.

“Pepper, you can't move two pawns together…only one.”

She laughed and moved another one. Your attention was now brought to a woman who seemed new in that place.

“Uhm…you know what, pepper? You win! Congratulations!” You said a little white lie so you could meet the mysterious woman. Pepper smiled and laughed happily, and started wandering around. You got up and walked towards the new presence. She looked lost, confused, angry but definitely not crazy. You sat in front of her and tried to put on a friendly smile.

“Hi… I noticed you from across the room. Who are you?”

The woman looked at you. You couldn’t help but feel judged and studied by those piercing eyes, in a quiet voice, she replied.

“Lana. Lana Winters.”

➽────❥

Time passed. Every day was the same as the one before, torturing and boring. You bonded with Lana too after you acknowledged her story, and she told you about the secret tunnel and how she planned to escape. The occasion came soon when unexpectedly, one random night, cells opened. You insisted on bringing Pepper with you in the escape attempt, and you three ran for your lives. While running, though, pepper decided to take another path. You stopped and whisper-yelled at her to come back, but she didn't listen to you. As soon as Lana noticed you stopping, she dragged you with her, telling you to not waste time, and while you were running, Kit walker caught up with you two. You didn’t know much about him, so you didn't really mind him trying to escape too, but apparently Lana did. You heard her yelling.

“HELP! He’s escaping! The killer is escaping!”

You tried to shush her, but before you knew it, you were captured.

You and kit were then bent over Sister Jude’s desk, while she praised Lana and allowed her to choose the cane you were going to be punished with. You were surprised when Kit took the blame on himself, letting you free and gaining more lashes for himself.

➽────❥

After a few days, you found yourself paired up with Kit on kitchen chores. You stood there in silence, lost in your thoughts while kit prepared the dough.

“You okay over there, suga’? You haven’t said a word.” You were brought back to reality at the sound of his deep voice and smooth accent. You gulped.

“Yeah… I-I’m fine. Just thinking…” You heard him sigh.

“It’s because of what they say about me…ain’t that right? I’m many things, darlin’, but I’m not a murderer. So, don’t be scared.”

You looked at him furrowing your brows and shook your head.

“No…it’s not because of that- I don’t think you’re a killer- I just… I’m just worried. Worried about Pepper. She’s nowhere to be found, a-and I feel guilty. So guilty. I should’ve followed her and brought her back.”

He chuckled lightheartedly.

“Oh, don’t say that, suga’. I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably out there livin’ her best life.”

You sighed and replied nervously.

“You and I both know that isn’t true. She’s wearing a fucking gown, and her looks don’t help either. If she actually managed to get out, she’s already got caught.” You looked down, fidgeting with your fingers. You jumped slightly when you felt his hands touching your shoulders. He gently caressed your arm from behind and spoke with a kind tone.

“Hey-hey- calm down, suga’. Whatever happened to Pepper, it’s not your fault. Don’t be so harsh with yourself. You tried to stop her, there was nothin’ else you could do.”

You sighed and leaned into his gentle touch.

“I just hope she’s fine. She’s an innocent soul…I could never live with it if something bad happened to her.”

He took your hands in his.

“You don’t belong here. In Briarcliff.”

You sighed and let yourself relax in his arms. He whispered in your ear.

“You need a distraction, suga’.”

you then felt his cold hand on your exposed inner thigh. You looked up at him, your cheeks slowly turning red.

“Shhh… Just relax. It’ll feel good, I promise.”

You nodded slowly and looked down as his fingers made their way to your exposed folds under your gown. He sighed as he ran a finger over your slit, and peppered gentle kisses on the side of your face. He started slowly circling your clit. His big hands felt like heaven on you and you couldn’t help but buckle your hips towards his hand, sweetly whining for more. He flashed you with a tender smile and pressed a sweet kiss on your lips. His fingers shifted position, so his thumb was now grazing your clit while one of his digits made its way to your entrance, gently pushing in. You gasped and let out a soft moan, muffled by his mouth making contact with yours. He inserted another finger in, stretching you and slowly thrusting inside.

“Ah… Faster Kit…please…” you whined softly.

“Whatever you say, suga’.”

He started moving his fingers faster, making your back arch as he hit that sweet spot perfectly. He kept going until he felt your whines grow louder, and right before you could cum, he suddenly stopped and pulled his fingers out.

“mhhhph….w-why did you stop?”

He chuckled and have you a loving kiss on your lips.

“I wanna be inside of you…suga’…is that okay, mh?”

You nodded eagerly, and he picked you up to set you on the counter. He grabbed your waist with his veiny hands and leaned in to crush your lips together. His tongue swirled around yours as you sloppily made out. You pulled your lips away from his and whispered.

“w-what if they catch us?”

“They won’t. I’ll be quick, love.”

He lifted your gown once again and settled between your legs. He groaned as he rushed to lift his gown, and he hissed while lining up your entrance with his needy cock. He immediately began pounding in your poor cunt. His thrusts were fast and sloppy. As you whined for the sudden roughness, he whispered right next to your ear in a hoarse voice.

“Sorry suga’. Been too long since I've touched a woman.”

You moaned as your legs clung to his body, and you had to adjust to the new position. Not long after, between dough and adrenaline for the fear of being caught, he sped up his thrusts until you came with a loud moan that he tried to muffle with his hand. At the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, he cummed inside you right away with a deep groan. You panted for a few seconds before getting off the counter and regaining your decency. He pressed a loving kiss on your lips and gently caressed your hair. You allowed yourself to melt in his embrace, and while thinking about everything that had happened so far, a sudden thought came to your mind.

“Kit…why did you stand up for me when Sister Jude wanted to punish us?”

He put his chin on your head, and with a sweet smile plastered on his face, he spoke.

“I followed your case on the TV before gettin’ locked up' here. I always thought ya were innocent…”

He chuckled and pressed gently his lips on your hair.

“…and cute.”

➽───────────────❥

a/n: aaaahhh!!! this is my first smut. I'm really proud of this one. lemme know if you like it!!!🧡🧡

join my taglist!!

all rights reserved!!

[beansprean]

Every Night's Like an Open Frame

A lil sequel to “Waiting on Mr. Right” ;)

Series also on AO3!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Aerial shot of a parking lot with one car and a single story building with a temporary sign strapped onto it that says ‘open all night’. A permanent sign on a pole out front says 'Arden Heights Dark Bowl' in purple LEDs, several letters burnt out. A speech bubble pops out of the building that says, 'Guillermo!' 1b. Inside, a medium shot of Nandor and Guillermo facing each other in profile, bowling lanes with LED striping in the background. A monitor is hung above them listing their scores up to the sixth frame, showing Nandor at 46 and Guillermo at 52 with two additional strikes in the last two frames. A little cartoon bowling pin appears on screen, saying 'strike!' The entire room is lit with neon green, purple, and red lights. Nandor sweeps his arm toward the scoreboard angrily and shouts, 'Why did you not tell me you were such a skilled bowler?!' Guillermo tosses his arms out and snaps back, 'Because that’s the first question you’ve asked me all night! You’ve only been talking about yourself!' 1c. Shot of Guillermo over Nandor’s shoulder, showing only one other occupied lane a ways behind him. Nandor throws his arms up, fingers curling in a strangling motion, and replies, 'You said asking questions was a first date activity! This is our second!' Guillermo slumps with a tired frown, pointing out, 'Only technically! The getting-to-know-eachother part is continuous, Nandor. You’re not getting to know me at all.' 1d. Reverse shot of Nandor, who crosses his arms and huffily asks, 'Oh, so you are not interested in hearing about my large penis and great vampiric powers?' 1e. Reverse shot of Guillermo, who purses his lips together and glares back, cheeks flushed. 1f. Repeat. Guillermo mumbles through gritted teeth, '…Not the point.' 1g. Medium shot of them both in profile. Nandor leans forward with a triumphant smile, poking his finger at Guillermo’s face, and crows, 'Aha! See? I am providing the necessary information to ensure you will agree to future dates!' Guillermo leans back away from his pointing finger, pouting in embarrassment and glaring to the side. He mumbles back, 'Shouldn’t I get to do that, too?' 1h. Shot from behind Nandor as he whips around to face the viewer, back to Guillermo, a triumphant grin still wide on his face. He says, 'No need!' Guillermo peers suspiciously at him from the background. 1i. Close up of Nandor’s hand as he sinks his fingers into a red 16-pound bowling ball on the return rack, Guillermo visible behind him clutching his own arm and looking mildly confused. Nandor continues, 'I have already decided how I feel about you.' 1j. Close up of Nandor in profile on a bubbly pink background as he holds up the ball in front of his face to inspect it with a serious expression. He says, 'I cannot imagine anything you could say that would make me want you more.' Close up of Guillermo staring at him, eyes wide and sparkling, cheeks flushed, as Nandor continues, 'Or anything that would keep me away.' 1k. Wide shot, bust of Guillermo small in the center, blushing and looking frustrated with himself as he thinks, 'Why is this working for me?' The background is full of dancing red flags. Offscreen, Nandor continues, 'But very well.' 1l. Shot over Guillermo’s shoulder as Nandor turns to face him with a grin, one hand on his hip and the other holding up a peace sign with the bowling ball held up on his fingers. He says, “Whomever hits the most little white men-“ Guillermo interrupts, correcting, 'Pins.' Nandor continues, '-on the next turn will have to answer a personal question.' 1m. Full body shot from the lane as Nandor turns toward it and dips to roll the ball with a confident smile and decent form. His bowling shoes do not match his outfit. Guillermo stands behind him in equally ugly shoes, watching.

2a. Close up of the bowling pins as Nandor's ball flies down the lane, knocking down some but not all. 2b. Close up at the scoreboard showing Nandor's score of 4 in frame 7. There are more bowling sounds from offscreen. 2c. Repeat, Nandor's score updates to show a spare as he knocks down the rest of the pins. A cartoon pin appears on screen with a wink and a thumbs up, announcing, 'Spare!' Offscreen, Nandor crows 'Ha!' 2c. Close up of Nandor looking very smug as he turns toward Guillermo and sweeps his arm toward the ball return behind him. He says, 'You're up, Guillermo.' 2d. Medium shot of Guillermo as he takes a green ball and readies it in his hands, squinting back at Nandor who stands behind him. Nandor is still holding his arm out and smiling, though the smugness has faded some in favor of affection as a little pink heart floats around his head. 2e. Close up on Guillermo in profile as he turns himself toward the bowling lane, bringing the ball up to balance in front of his face. His furrowed brow and the neon lightning strike in the background enhance his intense focus. 2f. Full body from below as Guillermo steps forward and takes his shot, form perfect and eyes forward. 2g. Shot of the lane from above as Guillermo's ball immediately veers sharply right and sinks into the gutter. 2h. Further shot of the ball rolling in the gutter down towards the pins. 2i. Close up of the ball falling off the end of the lane with a plunk, leaving all pins untouched. 2j. Close up of Guillermo looking calm and unsurprised, brows raised unconcernedly as the animated pin presses it's gloves hands to its face in shock and shouts 'Uh-oh! Gutterball!' Behind him, Nandor is a picture of shock, arms flying out beside him, eyes bugging, mouth dropped open. He shrieks, 'Wha- Guillermo!'

3a. Medium shot of Guillermo as he turns his back on the bowling lane to face Nandor, one hand on his hip and one eyebrow raised. Offscreen, Nandor stutters, 'That's not- You weren't supposed to-' Slightly pink in the face despite his confident veneer, Guillermo interrupts and asks, 'Now you have to answer a personal question, right?' 3b. Reverse shot of Nandor on a purplish pink background filled with question marks. Nandor frowns and tilts his head, baffled, but replies 'I- I suppose, but-' Guillermo interrupts from offscreen again and says 'Great.' 3c. Wide shot of them both in profile, the bowling alley stretching out behind them. Guillermo steps closer, still holding his confident and unbothered expression, and asks 'Do you wanna go make out in the parking lot?' Nandor's eyes bug out in shock, cheeks flushing purple. 3d. Repeat. Nandor rushes forward to take both of Guillermo's hands in his own and hold them up between them, leaning close and staring with a sweaty and flustered intensity. He replies, 'I was wrong. I am wanting you even more now. Tell me everything about you while we are doing the making out.' Guillermo's face breaks into a silly grin, amused but not uncharmed by this response. 3e. Exterior shot of the bowling alley from above, Guillermo now leaning against the building with Nandor pressed against him as they make out. Guillermo's right arm is around Nandor's waist and his left hand is pressed to the wall above by Nandor's. Dialogue drifts down the screen as they canoodle. Guillermo: 'Mmm, but I never went to art school or anything, it's just a hobby.' Nandor: 'I would love to see your work... Would you draw me, too?' Guillermo: 'Maybe...if you'd pose for me.' Nandor: 'However you want, Guillermo... Oh! You can roll your tongue? So can I!' Guillermo: 'Hahaha!' Nandor: 'You are full of surprises...' Guillermo: 'You have no idea...' The neon sign above them takes up most of the panel; more letters are now burnt out to spell 'The End.' /end ID

[deepinsideyourbeing]

holi, amé el drabble que le hiciste a pipe (en realidad me leí todos los drabbles pero ese UF) así que vengo a duplicar una segunda parte POR FAVOR

Preludio ♡

+18!

Felipe comienza a sospechar que tal vez, sólo tal vez, tenías razón al preocuparte por su tamaño. Apenas lleva dos dedos y tus paredes se contraen hasta casi impedir sus movimientos, por lo que no encuentra más alternativa que escupir sobre tu centro para humedecer aún más tu entrada y tu interior.

Tus mejillas arden de vergüenza para cuando sus dedos acarician tu punto dulce una y otra vez, tus gemidos mezclándose con los sonidos de tus fluidos y su saliva y tus piernas temblando contra el mármol frío sobre el cual te sentó.

Te mordés el labio cuando toma su miembro, su punta brilla demandando atención y él suspira temblorosamente cuando la delinea con su pulgar antes de guiarla hacia tu entrada. Toma tu cintura y acaricia tu piel en un gesto tranquilizador, pero eso no impide que los nervios se apoderen de tu cuerpo.

Un débil grito deja tus labios cuando comienza a introducirse en tu interior, el tamaño de su glande suficiente para abrumar tus sentidos y hacerte saborear el orgasmo. Besa tus labios con suavidad y cuando abrís los ojos estás a punto de perderte en el mar de tonos verdes y azules en los suyos, pero sus pequeños movimientos contra tu centro hacen que dirijas tu atención hacia el lugar donde su cuerpo se fusiona con el tuyo.

-Más...

-¿Sí? ¿Querés más?- besa tu mejilla y se desliza otro par de centímetros-. ¿Querés que te la meta toda...?

-Sí- un hilo de saliva cae de tus labios-, toda.

Cubre tu boca y se adentra por completo en tu interior de una sola estocada, tus gritos y gemidos desesperados ahogados por la palma de su mano. Tu pecho sube y baja con cada respiración agitada, pero Felipe elige centrarse en un detalle no tan pequeño.

Cada vez que mueve sus caderas puede apreciar un bulto en tu abdomen bajo, como si tu cuerpo no tuviera más opción que hacer lugar para él. Cuando coloca su mano y ejerce presión disfruta verte retorciéndote y oír tus quejidos entremezclados con tus gemidos y súplicas.

-Acá estoy- toma tu mano y la guía hacia tu abdomen-. ¿Viste...? Te dije.

Asentís e intentás contestarle, pero poca es la coherencia que queda en tu cuerpo y entre tantos gemidos Felipe sólo logra comprender las palabras profundo y más, por favor.

Mientras escribía esto tuve que ignorar mis hormonas (porque, como sospechaba, estoy ovulando 😔) para no escribir directamente un one-shot demasiado explícito. Perdón Pipe por tan impuros pensamientos (pero igual lo voy a escribir...).

[veneerslipstick]

⋆.ೃ࿔lights, camera...*:･

actor!veneer x GN!jealous!reader

• one shot

• fluff

at this point in yours and veneers relationship, you’ve been pretty used to his fame and how the life of dating a celebrity is a bit challenging than you imagined. until one day, veneer is casted on a new netflix movie airing worldwide ! but, of course, it had to be a romance.

you were super supportive ! showing up to rehearsals, meeting the cast members, helping him out with lines, you really enjoyed it. though, it being a romance plot, you had to witness every. kissing. scene, with his romantic interest, Arden. reminding yourself it was all just for a plot, you push past the fact of how much time they spend together and worrying if he was falling for them.

what will be your breaking point in order to prove he was unattainable?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

“if you want to be as famous as me, you gotta work, gotta work, gotta -“

in the middle of washing your dishes, you picked up

your phone and held it against your shoulder when

you answered it.

“hello?” you forgot to look at who was calling, so you

stuck with the automatic basic greeting.

“Y/N! hi, hi, uhm so i’m on my way over, i still really

can’t believe that, yknow… you know !!” veneer

exclaimed, not having to second guess that it was

him from the way he squealed your name at the

beginning. smiling to yourself, you rinsed off your

hands and turned around from the sink to look out

the living room window.

“i can’t believe it either! and it was only yesterday !

im so happy for you. are we going out to celebrate ?”

there was a pause.

“mm, not exactly. we’re going out, but it’s kind of like

a get together with the cast members, so we can all

get to really know eachother.” veneer explained, and

you furrowed your eyebrows slightly.

“oh, but didn’t we already do that? i met everyone.”

you took the phone in your hand.

“well that was different , like , a basic meet and greet

slash first rehearsal. this is a little more like a loose ,

flowy, have-a-drink-make-someone-laugh type of

deal.” he seemed to have trouble with his

description, but you just laughed, leaning against

your island.

“i like how you describe things.” you blurted

randomly, and you felt him smile on the other end.

that was odd, but you just knew.

“i’ll be there in a minute, love you flower.” he

responded. blushing, you dropped your head.

“i love you too ven.”

hanging up, you went to your room to throw

something on half decent to wear. you weren’t

trying to impress anyone but your own boyfriend,

but you were trying to prove a point to veneers

romantic interest in the movie, Arden, is their name,

that their relationship was strictly for the screen and

nothing else. when you had first met them, they were

actually sweet and funny — but that’s what scared

you. there was nothing that you feared more than

you ending up being just a test subject for veneer , as

he was just famous and hungry, and being pushed to

the side as soon as he tracks down another

person significantly better than you.

pulling on a nice dress shirt, you looked at yourself

in your full body mirror. you knew most of that

definitely— probably, wasn’t true. but that sickening

feeling in your gut pulled your heart closer to your

stomachs depth. you shook it off, swallowing the

lump in your throat. then you heard a horn honk.

rushing out of your room, you opened the front door

to veneer in his car, one hand on the steering wheel

and the other around the head rest. he grinned at you

from afar and you rolled your eyes, scurrying over to

the passenger side and getting in.

“veneer, you’re gonna give me a stroke one day and

it’ll be all your fault.” you shot at him and he laughed.

“mhm, sure, aaaaaaand i’m slowly building up your

fight or flight reactions so one day you can whoop

major ass when you need it.” he replied as he put

the gear in drive and started his way up your

neighbourhood. you shook your head with a smile.

once you two arrived to the actual set of the movie,

which was just a mansion as of right now, you both

exited the car and made your way inside. you were

slightly nervous, though you’ve met everyone before,

but having to see people after already meeting them

once is weirdly even more awkward. once inside,

your arm intertwined with veneers, you were blinded

by spotlights and a huge chandelier over your head.

you saw a tall, tan person, who you remembered as

Arden, wave at venner who he waved back at, and

that’s where he dragged you to go. you made sure to

keep my arm tight around his.

“arden! you remember y/n,” he started, gesturing his

head towards you. you smiled with a nod and they

did the same. “yes, of course. both of you look very

nice.” they looked specifically venner up and down

and you bit your cheek.

“oh well thank you! you also look great. where’s

Lucas?” veneer asked, who you knew as their

director.

you zoned out as they both talked, but keeping an

eye on Arden, making sure their expressions weren’t

too exaggerated or incase they tried to make a

move on veneer. you obviously weren’t worried of

veneer reciprocating, but it still icked you

nonetheless. you then noticed someone approached

the little group, who you recognized as Lucas.

“ven! it’s nice to see you. and y/n, i’m glad you

showed up. veneer always needs his number one

supporter.” Lucas laughed and so did the rest of

them. you smiled and nodded. “it’s nice to see

you as well.” you were quiet as you were just lost

in thought a moment ago.

“anyway, veneer and arden, i was thinking as a little

teaser for the gram..” you cringed at his abbreviation

of “Instagram.” veneer and arden smiled

simultaneously.

“we could post a snippet of your guys’ hot scene…”

you felt your heart beating quickly as you shot a

glance at veneer then back at Lucas. did he really

just suggest that in front of you?

Arden clapped their hands together once and looked

to veneer. “oh, yes! imagine the fame that would

flood because of it !” they exclaimed, but veneer

expressed a face of uncertainty, but plastering a

smile.

“oh, i..” trailing off for a quick moment he looked to

you and you intervened.

“he would love to.” you said monotonously but with

a slight grin spreading on your lips.

no, no he wouldn’t, you told yourself, but oh, yes he

did, your tease told you.

veneer shot you a look of surprise but also distress,

but Lucas has already walked away while whistling.

“get the cameras UP!” he yelled enthusiastically.

swiftly pulling you to the side , veneer stuck his head

out at you and gestured his hands in a “what is this”

expression. you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“i’m not going to stop you from having fun. just

go do it, it’ll be a core memory for all of you.”

you explained, him biting the inside of his lip.

“i don’t really get you. just a moment ago you were

clearly uncomfortable…” he trailed off and shook

his head, but shot a smile at you. he kissed you

gently as his right hand ran through your hair,

then ran off to the others.

you watched the whole scene happen. the tension

between veneer and arden’s characters , the slight

touching , and of course, the kiss. that rose

dangerous flames in the pit of your lungs. you had

been digging your nails into your palm without even

nothing , which turned your knuckles white.

once the shitshow was over, you let veneer mingle

amongst his peers before you gave him “the look”,

which signaled you wanted to go. without thinking

twice, he started ;

“this was fun, but me and y/n have to get going.

photoshoot tomorrow.” that was always the excuse,

a photoshoot. and it always worked.

“ah, of course. it was nice seeing you two.” Lucas

replied, and Arden looked straight at veneer.

“i’ll see you soon, ven.” they said quietly. your

teeth grit and veneer took your hand.

after all the goodbyes, you and veneer exited the

house and got into his car. without exchanging any

words, he started the engine and revered out of the

parking spot, looking over his shoulder whilst

putting his hand on your head rest. you watched

him in the corner of your eye and felt your body

tense at this simple yet effective sight , and you

swallowed with a dry throat.

on the highway back home, you still felt fury in

your chest.

“pull over,” you said out of nowhere , veneer

looking to you, back to the road then at you again.

“what, why? are you gonna be sick?” he sounded

panicked and you looked at him, that being all

it took for him to put on his signal light and pull over

onto the shoulder of the road. he parked the car.

throwing off your seatbelt and pushing the buckle of

his, you threw your legs over to the driver side and

climbed atop him, left hand on his shoulder as the

other reached down to recline the seat. this all

happened so suddenly, he didn’t have time to react

until the brief 5 seconds you gave for you two to look

at eachother. his hands that were in the air slowly

lowered down onto your waist as his eyes scanned

the view in front of him. looking back into your eyes,

you crashed your lips against his with your hands

gripping the collar of his dress shirt.

both of you had craved this all night — veneer

more than you, actually. having to touch someone

else that wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of

what you gave sort of drive him mad. you noticed

his hands grew tighter on your body and his kiss

moved from gentle to hungry, you inhaling his low

exhales felt like taking a drag of a much needed

cigarette.

the cold surrounded around you disappeared as his

hands started to disperse on your back, running

up to your hair so he could pull your head back and

press kisses to your neck and collarbone. your

throat managed a sound you couldn’t explain,

and you let your eyes fall closed as you felt his lips

dragging slowly on your skin.

you loved how patient he was with your body, how he

took his time to explore what made you gasp and

breath out his name , like it was his only purpose to

do so.

pulling away, he looked up at you and pulled you

close to him by your waist, simply just gazing into

your eyes.

“i will never get sick of you.” he whispered , his voice

seeming to travel in the wind around your head.

you felt a smile quickly spread on your lips and you

cupped his face in your hands.

“i’d like to see Arden try and get that from you.” you

joked and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“they could never. no one could ever.” a moment

of silence sat between you two.

“i love you , y/n,” he kissed you again, pulled away ,

“my flower,”

another quick kiss to your lips concluded the closure

you needed. he loved you, and you loved him, and it

wasn’t just for show. ♡

*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ ✧.* *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ ✧.*

a/n: FINALLY. i am so sorry. i’m so stressed out

but i love you guys pls eat my scraps 😞🩷

[cyanbugremix]

Reductive Audio #7 Spoilers

Uhh this is just a list of my favorite facts from the reductive audio

All d(a)emons are ambidextrous, and Ivan is left-handed, but the cool part is that Ivan became ambidextrous when Vega was controlling him (idk is that cool?? It's interesting for sure)

Brachium has only ever experienced vanilla extract through the memories of the dead.

Caelum on the other hand has made a "Vanilla Extract Tumblr Cake" (one of those polls where people "bake a cake" and it has too much vanilla extract voted for, i think) and it turned out horrible!

In Mario games, Elliot was forced to play as Luigi by Aaron, because of his at home nickname being "Ell/L" and Luigi starts with an L (you get the gist. It sounds the same)(Elliot wanted to be toad tho)(Aaron would play as Mario)

Gavin technically can and has pretended to read a book, he just has never actually committed to doing so

Lasko is scared of heights even though he knows that he could catch himself if he were to fall, so he thinks the fear is annoying

Damien peut parle français (Where did Damien learn french?? At home? School? As a hobby?)

Ash was taller than David, until David hit puberty and shot up (thus the big guy nickname came to be)(Seriously tho. So many boys would shoot up in like 3 months during summer break and be wayy tall when we'd get back to school and I was always amazed that someone could grow that tall that quick)

Oof T-T Sam was close with his Grandma Adeline (Adelene?), and when she passed he went back home to Mont Blanc to say goodbye to her grave (he snuck into the cemetery at night because he was a vampire by then)

Kody was gonna originally be involved with Closeknit, but then his character was taken in a different direction (makes lots of sense. He would be a closeknit guy)

Huxley was the fastest kid in his grade because he was obsessed with Bionicles (specifically pohatu with the mask of speed) (omg i forgot about bionicles until I looked them up again. I never did anything with them but I remember them)

Milo doesn't drink alcohol because he doesn't want to find out if he can get addicted to things as easily as his dad

Avior has HEARD of Gavin but never met him before

Oldest 3 d(a)emons in order: Polaris (Dead), Vega (dead for a bit but alive again), Ursa (elation daemon)

Camelopardalis has been in therapy for 2 years to work through the the bad memories that he had to keep of the whole Vega and Ivan problem (and he hasn't wiped his therapists memories yayy!!)

Arden took out the second most shades (David is the winner in taking out the most) during the Inversion, and Christian and her defended the VIP box through the whole night, even when Christian couldn't stay in wolf form

Kelsey started the Chrissy nickname! (Arden and Asher use it the most)

Aaron, when Elliot's powers first manifested, would imagine what it was like to be magical (He wanted to be a "Warder" and do force field stuff)

BLAKE WAS GOING TO ORIGINALLY BE CALLED CARVER OMG

Zeke (Member of Closeknit) drinks "Cactus Cooler" (orange and pineapple soda)

Xavier (contra-elemental) was originally supposed to survive the inversion

Bailey's mother is beta of the Keaton pack

DJ Anxiety (Hudson) still makes mixes, he just hasn't done live DJ-ing since the Inversion

Gregory Keaton doesn't exist in the Fooliverse (his parents never met in that AU)

Anton doesn't like gore, and bcuz of that he prefers black and white horror movies (modern ones often have too much gore in them) (Such a vibe for him)

Brachium was the last serenity daemon created by Min'Ara's own hands

E'Laetum has a grudge against Vega because Vega was specifically built to be the opposite of Polaris (even tho the dude didn't have a say in his creation)

Quinn sounded like he was interested in turning Darlin' (but they never could figure out if he was serious or not)

Hush was supposed to originally be apart of one of Echo's "deals"

Porter's maker was a dude named Felix, who got executed because Felix seemed to really like creating progeny (as well as being horrible to them)

Alexis resents Porter for becoming William's favorite when he wants someone to go out and do whatever, because Alexis does more "collateral damage" than Porter

(And there's cool Vampire lore from The Summit vampires from 26:18-27:36)

[pagesupinflames]

last night i blacked out in my car. and i woke up in my childhood bed. (pt.1)

(seven years on testosterone, an eternity of sibling love, and a million tears shed over someone that was once thought to be gone forever; someone who had changed completely).

— a sam and transmasc sweetheart sibling renunciation fic ft. my ver. of all the pack listeners (also maybe ooc sam ?? it’s been a while i miss my cunty southern man)

“repeat who’s all gon’ be there again?”

marcy sighed. was sam always this curious or did he just wanna piss her off today?

“david. his mate, willow. asher. mate, kato. milo. ray. amanda. christian. arden. bailey. kelsey. ansel. there’s too many of the fuckers to actually list off their names all at once, but those are the main guys. again. got it?” the wolf listed off in a stern voice laced with annoyance, counting with her fingers at every name said. of course, she wasn’t truly annoyed with sam— but she’d never admit that out loud.

after repeating the names in his head once more (as if he hadn’t done so thirty-three times in the past hour), sam raised an eyebrow at marcy.

“and ray is who again?”

“milo’s mate. are you good now?”

recalling the man, he nodded his head, cutting the engine as he made his way out of the car. he was only a couple steps out before he turned back around to open marceline’s door for her.

she scoffed at him, biting her lip in an attempt to keep her composure from faltering as she hopped out of her seat — unaware of the slightly smug grin sam shot behind her back as they both began trailing towards the cabins.

———————————

raymond sat on one of the coolers next to milo, red solo cup in hand as he quietly observed the atmosphere that surrounded him. voices. people. he’s already met all of them.

he knew he was going to meet someone new today. marceline’s mate. mate? boyfriend? friend she’s fucked? friend with benefits? milo didn’t really specify, possibly because he didn’t even know himself — but no matter the title, ray prepared for their arrival. partially because he wanted to see marcy again (friend crushes were weird), partially because he was curious about this new guy. vampire. his curiosity peaked.

his thoughts were interrupted by a gentle nudge on the shoulder from milo, who smiled at him and motioned towards a random direction in the giant cabin full of people. ray’s gaze followed the gesture, a familiar head of wild, wavy blond hair seen from afar bothering another set of blond hair, this one nearly styled and darker than the beta’s. ray ignored the pit growing deep in his stomach that triggered his gag reflex.

“ash ‘s shootin’ himself.” milo commented, jutting his thumb over at the (awkwardly conversing) blond pair with a sly grin, slightly easing the tension (keyword: slightly). “wanna go make fun o’ him?”

ray let out a chuckle at the straightforward question, standing with a mirroring smirk. “that’s all you. ‘m no instigator.”

milo playfully rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around ray’s waist before pulling him in to go embarrass asher even more than he was doing himself.

and with each step ray took side by side to milo’s, he felt himself growing weaker; sicker. like he had swallowed an apple seed and it just now started to grow into a sapling in his abdomen. each step was a new emotion. nostalgia. longing. betrayal. relief. anger. was it asher he was feeling this way about? but ash didn’t do anything. why were his knees starting to give out from underneath him?

“you stickin’ your foot in it already, ash?” the curly haired wolf questioned in a teasing tone as he approached, keeping ray close.

asher stammered at milo’s ask, already deep enough in eating shit. “u-uh.. mmaybe? ahah…”

the beta paused, exasperatingly gesturing back and forth between the other blond and the power couple. ray looked up with a friendly smile. then the smile dropped. the sapling grew into a full-grown tree, and he was back to being a kid again.

“sam, milo and ray. ray and milo, sam.”

his name was sam.

“sam.”

“sam.”

“sam.”

“sam?” sarah lynn called out, rubbing her tired eyes as she held her blanket close to her body. it was cold out. the heater was broken again. and her older brother was crawling out of his window.

“where’re you goin? are you leavin?”

samuel was frozen in place when her tiny voice hit his ears, his plans being thrown out of the window he was escaping out of at her questions. always curious, was what she was.

he didn’t look back at her. and that hurt him most. he didn’t look at her becuase if he did he would never be able to leave. leave her behind in this haunted house.

“i don’t want you worryin’ about that, lynn.”

“but i am worryin.”

his breath hitched in his throat. he had to physically grab his chin in order to not look at her. do not look at her. look now and you never leave.

with a shaky breath, sam held his tongue to simplify the words that would be an entire journal worth of paragraphs that he wanted to say to her.

“don’t. be a good girl, ‘kay? be good. i-i’ll.. i’ll come back. for you. i promise that. you gotta promise to be good, you swear? i’ll—“ the accent croaked, and sam sniffled into his inner sleeve.

“i’ll come back for you, sarah lynn, i promise. i’m comin’ back. i’ll love y.. you always, yeah? no matter what you do, i love you. a lot.”

his words didn’t make sense to her. so he was leaving. and he wasn’t taking her with him. why? she could pack quickly. she could fit all of her things in a grocery bag. she could go with him. they could stay close like the other brothers and sisters at school.

but she was like sam in that sense. sarah lynn bit her tongue.

“i.. love you too, sammy.”

he repeated his past words. “swear you’ll be good?”

the six year old girl let out a breathy sigh, heavy and thick from the tears swelling in her eyes. “mhm. i swear.”

at sarah lynn’s oath, sam pressed his lips together, pinching his eyes to wipe his sorrows away before nodding in response, dropping his belongings down the second floor window.

“good.”

and then he jumped out.

and he never came back for her.

“pleased to meetcha.”

“i’ll come back.”

“likewise.” milo smiled at sam, only to pause at his mate’s paled face in his peripheral vision.

springing to attention, he squeezed ray’s waist, his reaction immediately being to squirm away at his touch and curl in on himself. eyes dead set on sam. sam.

sam.

his tone came out worried, confused as he turned to face his mate with a frown of concern. “sweetheart? are.. you okay?”

“i..” ray swallowed, just now realizing the blond was staring right back at him. same look. different eyes. new face? new person?

old face. dead stories. dead brother. dead name.

“i have to go to the bathroom.”

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Daddy's Little Princess

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (One-Shot)

Description: You get home after a long day at the office to near silence. It warms your heart when you walk into your living room to see your husband Bradley Bradshaw playing with your eldest and making her laugh as she combs his mustache with a doll's comb.

Disclaimers: AFAB!Reader, Tooth-rotting fluff, Babies, Bronco, Bradley

Word Count: 1167

A/N: Hi, Star here! The Top Gun Brain-Rot still has me by the throat. This was inspired by this post which suggested, Play with his mustache use barbie hair brushes on it. Obviously, the minute I saw it, my brain immediately went yup, that's a Bradshaw and so this fic was born. This is un-beta'd and un-edited by anyone other than me, so forgive any glaring errors.

AO3: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

It's been a long, horrendous day. You'd had to go into the office for an important meeting and dress formally for it, too. The worst part was having to leave your husband and children at home alone. Thankfully, it had been one of his few days off-duty from NAS North Island. You'd kissed your babies on their foreheads as you left early in the morning and spent far too long pressed against your husband’s chest before leaving. Traffic in San Diego was no worse than it usually was, so all in all, your morning was typical. It was during your meeting that your day rattled off the rails. Your proposal was not well received. It had been ripped to shreds by every member of the C-Suite present in the boardroom that day. You'd spent the remainder of the day with your team reviewing every inch of the proposal with a fine-toothed comb and writing and re-writing pieces for the follow-up meeting in one week.

After your day, you were flagging as you got into your Jeep that evening to drive home. The one highlight of your day had been the giggle-filled voicemail you'd received during your lunch break. Your daughter's voice had been so sweet with the baby's babbling and your husband's deep tones in the background. It was apparent your mischievous little princess had stolen your husband's phone and called you accidentally. It brought much-needed energy to you and an impetus to finish work as soon as possible.

All the streetlights are coming to life and illuminating the road with a golden glow as you turn onto your street and finally breathe a sigh of relief. Your husband's bright blue Ford Bronco sits in your driveway as you pull in behind it. It's only a few minutes before you're unlocking the door and finally stepping out of your heels. Rather than the giggling stampede you expect, the house is nearly silent. Sure, there is the ever-present low hum of Bluey pouring out of your living room, but the undercurrent of chaos usually present in your home with a 3-year-old, an 8-month-old, and not one but two dogs isn't there at all. You place your bag on the side table and stretch your tense muscles before padding silently to the living room and peeking in. Your son, Arden, rocks in his swing seat on the floor, suckling happily on a pacifier. Surrounding him lies the residue of what looks to be a war zone of dinosaurs versus Barbies, your daughter Maria's favorite game at the moment. You can't see her yet, but boy, can you hear her now.

"Daddy, Daddy! The dinoswars won! I twout the Barbies were gonna win. You tolded me they would win!" Her little voice pipes on and on about how sad it was that the Barbies lost. Interspersed with her chatter, your husband hums inquisitively to keep the conversation going. Your grin grows at your husband's voice when the little miss runs out of steam.

"Baby, maybe the Barbies didn't win because you forgot something?"

"What, Daddy?"

"What magic spell did Daddy tell you the Barbies needed to beat the big bad dinosaurs so you could save Ardy?"

"I hadda brush all their hairs and kiss them."

"That's right, baby. But you forgot one thing." Maria makes a little confused hum, and your husband continues, "You forgot to comb your hair and Daddy's!"

"Oh!" Her little squeal of realization is too cute. "Daddy, help!"

"Gimme the comb, Princess. Gonna make you look all pretty so we can save Arden from the big bad dinosaurs." 

You step a little bit closer. The kids are entirely occupied with the game, and the dogs, Tramp and Falcon, are curled up in one of the dog beds. The only person to notice you is your husband, who winks at you from his spot in the war zone of toys your living room floor has become. 

"All done!" He proclaims, "Don't you look beautiful?!" He smacks a loud wet kiss against her cheek as she giggles loudly.

"Daddy, wait!" Maria's all bossy now, "We forgot one thing!"

"What's that?" Your husband is the best.

"Your moostach, Daddy!" She's smiling proudly at pronouncing the word mostly correctly. 

"Alright, baby girl. C'mere. Let's comb my mustache and defeat these dinosaurs before mama gets home."

He tugs Maria to stand in between his legs and hands her the bright pink doll's comb. He sits there with unerring patience as your baby carefully runs the comb through his mustache, wiggling his upper lip occasionally to make her laugh. It's absolutely adorable to see. Bradley Bradshaw had confided to you early on in your relationship that he was afraid to have children. As he’d lost his father at a young age, he didn't know what it meant to be a good dad. All that fear turned into uncontrollable love the minute he held Maria in his arms, and he'd proven what a fantastic father he was every day since. You’re unbelievably in love with this man. That love only swells in your chest when you see the glittery butterfly clips nestled in his curls and the love in his eyes as he devotes all of his attention to your little princess. 

Unsurprisingly, of your two kids, Arden sees you first, giving you a gummy smile and squealing as he wiggles his little body to catch your attention. You step into the warzone willingly, carefully avoiding stepping on any of the toys, and heft your youngest into your arms. He’s warm and baby-soft in your arms as you snuggle him close, breathing in the scent of his baby shampoo and the special detergent you use on his clothes. Hurricane Maria is not to be deterred, though, as she wraps herself around your leg and kisses your thigh.

“Princess, princess, c’mere.” Bradley sounds so fond as he tries to free your daughter from her limpet-like grasp of your leg. “Let Mama and Ardy sit down, baby girl. Then you can cuddle her all you want!” He coaxes her away and pulls her into his lap as he sits on the sofa. You join them, letting the soft cushions conform to your body. Maria joins Arden in your arms, and you finally let yourself decompress.

"Hey, Mama," Bradley murmurs.

"Hi, B," Your voice is soft as you turn your head to kiss him. 

"How was your day?"

"Terrible. But it's better now. It’s always better when I have you and our babies in it."

You smile into the kiss he gives you, relishing in your husband's taste before focusing all of your attention on your children in your arms. Maria chatters about everything she'd done during the day, and you converse happily with her. Arden babbles at breaks in the conversation, and you love seeing Maria interact with him. It'll soon be time for dinner, baths, and bed, but for the next few moments, you can rejoice at the feeling of having everything you love at your fingertips.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[weirdmixofweirdness]

The New Assistant

 Ever since they arrived, Nobody had felt like they had no use in the Iplier Manor. All the egos seemed to have a purpose. The Googles maintained the house’s technology. Wilford, Bim, and the Jims worked in the TV department. Hell, E-boy Mark kept track of Mark’s social media. Nobody appeared to be the only person without a job. For whatever reason, they had an innate, constant desire to help however possible. That is what led them to Darkiplier’s office. 

They knocked on the wood door, tapping on it three times. Within seconds, the polished silver knob turned, the door inviting them in. Behind it was Dark, sitting at his desk. The room was painted black, aside from white decor on white shelves. The soft floor was also a flawless tint of white. 

“Heya, Dark!” Nobody greeted, a smile plastered on their face.

“Hello, Y/N–”

“Actually,” They interjected, letting out a breath of a humorless laugh. 

“I like to be called, uh, Nobody.” The creaking of wood reverberated through the air as the creature inhaled deeply. It faded out within seconds of his exhale.

“Very well…Nobody,” their name was emphasized by a glitch in his aura and voice.

“What brings you here?” His voice quickly returned to its numb tone. He held a pen, its tip facing upwards. If one looked closer, they would see him grasping the utensil tighter upon Nobody’s appearance.

  “Well, I was wondering if,” they paused.

“Uh, there was something I could do around here?”

“Whatever do you mean?” the creature asked, brows lightly furrowed.

“There are ways for you to entertain yourself,” he stated.

“I mean, as in a…job?” Nobody’s folded hands began to sporadically switch positions each second. They heard several horror stories from the egos about his outbursts. Hearing it, they thought nothing of it. But being there in front of him, his seemingly black eyes staring daggers into their soul… Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Oh, I understand.” For a moment, there was a curve on the side of his lips, but it was gone as fast as it appeared.

“I am always looking for a personal assistant,” the being said. All at once, Nobody’s face lit up.

“Someone to organize our schedule,” Dark explained.

“Keep track of events,” he could already see their fingers wiggling in excitement. “Deliver messages to the others–”

“I’ll do it,” Nobody interrupted. Their mouth clamped shut immediately afterwards. The egos said Dark absolutely detested being interrupted, so they were likely about to be cooked alive.

 ‘Some things never change.’

“Good to hear,” the creature made every attempt to keep any trace of emotion out of his face. However, upon looking closer, Nobody saw a blue shimmer in his once void-looking eyes.

“Would you like to begin now?” he asked. Of course, there was no point to it. He already knew the answer.

 “Yes, that would be great,” for the first time in that conversation, their smile was genuine. They could barely contain an excited squeal. Dark pressed a few keys on his keyboard, before returning his focus to Nobody.

 “A copy of our rules and schedule will be in the Googles’ office,” Dark instructed.

“Okie dokie, I’ll go right over,” they left with a skip in their step. As the door clicked shut, the creature closed his eyes, retreating into a mental void. There, a mass of nothingness “stood” across from a man doused in cyan light.

‘They don’t remember, you know,’ the entity stated, its voice a cacophony of whispers.

‘I’m perfectly aware of that,’ the blue soul responded.

‘But they don’t deserve to mope about like a prisoner.’

‘They weren’t moping.’

‘Not on the outside, at least,’ he mumbled. This entity didn’t know what made the little monster tick. Not like he could.

‘The more of a purpose you give them,’ the blue soul began.

‘The more they will trust you.’ This was one way he could appeal to the being: manipulation.

‘And the more they trust us…’ it started.

 ‘The more likely they are to help our cause.’ he explained.

‘Clever,’ the entity replied flatly, though the blue soul could tell it was somewhat impressed.

‘But if they become a distraction–’

‘They won’t,’ he insisted. However, the spirit already knew it would prove difficult.

‘I will hold you to that.’ The two exited the void, returning to reality; back into one being. 

[ardentprose]

the day matt murdock became devout

Type: angst, no relationships, young!matt murdock

Length: 1.5k~ | 6 min

Warnings: grief; mourning; mention of bullying; religious subjects; mention of blood and injuries; depression

Feel free to message me if a necessary warning isn’t mentioned.

Summary: A short scene exploring the time shortly after nine-year-old Matt Murdock loses his father.

Read on AO3

A/N: (I am still figuring out how to format these...) So this one was written after a downward spiral of emotion. I wrote it in one sitting and lightly edited it, but it's not beta read. I'm not Catholic, so forgive me if anything is amiss. However, I was raised in a religious background and this draws inspiration from that.

This is the song that inspired the work and which I kept on repeat while writing, if any are interested.

__________

Nine years old is too young to know the taste of blood.

It smells like acrid dust that burns the throat.

It smells of rain and rotting wood and moth balls.

It smells of claustrophobic velvet.

Matt doesn’t know where he is. All he knows is he ran with hands outstretched, stumbling into walls and corners until he found a closet deep in the recesses of the church.

It’s dark. It’s quiet. It’s safe. For now.

Sobbing until he chokes on the blood running into his mouth and spewing from his lips. Salt and iron.

Dust. Cobwebs. He knows there are spiders in the corner above his head. He doesn’t know why but he knows they are there, on webs that thrum like pricked violin strings.

Loneliness, like a dagger, tears with every inhale. It deepens the black gash of loss that has bled into the cavity of his chest for weeks now. His ribcage thunders against his heartbeat. His veins strain with agony.

Matt falls to his knees in scuffed jeans. He swallows, grasping at oxygen before the next round of grief wracks his body.

He’s scared.

He’s alone.

Alone.

So very al-

May we sing.

Together.

Always.

Matt huffs, trying to stop the momentum of soft cries tumbling from his lips. His panic stops only because his curiosity outweighs it. He tilts his head, his ears ringing with voices.

May our voice be soft.

Soprano. Alto. Tenor. Bass.

A choir.

Angels.

May our singing be music for others

And may it keep others aloft.

Matt sucks in a sharp breath, determined to stop crying so loud so he could hear. It wasn’t that the choir was distant, it was that his body was too close. He could hear everything, from his heart, to his blood, to his organs convulsing and squelching and it was scary. He was so scared.

He wanted a hug. But his father was gone.

He has no mother.

He has no one.

A wail tempers at his mouth, threatening to spill, but he bites his lip until it stings. Matt bows his head, screwing his eyes shut and holding his breath so he could hear better.

Sing,

Sing gently,

Always.

Sing,

Sing as one.

He releases his breath slowly. His body shudders.

May we stand together,

Always.

May our voice be strong.

The voices blend together as they carry to the ceilings of the cathedral and echo throughout the church. Matt can picture it. He can sense it. His eyes flit back and forth, chasing fiery impressions behind his eyelids as they continually morph into different shapes.

He rests his forehead on his crossed forearms, bowed into a shivering ball on the ground. His cries become ragged whispers.

The voices rise once more and caress his senses. They lull him into a state of temporary stability. Nowhere near alright, but just enough to be fascinated.

To be transfixed. To have a shred of comfort.

Guilt flashes across Matt’s chest. Maybe he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. He shouldn’t be here, hiding from Sister Maggie and the other nuns. He’s going to get in so much trouble if he doesn’t show up for dinner.

But he can’t bear to leave the four walls he’s cowered in, listening to the choral melodies reverberate around him. It feels like a cocoon. Like a safe haven.

May we hear the singing and

May we always sing along.

Fresh, hot tears pour from Matt’s obscured eyes. Peace, or at least a semblance of it, takes the tension from his shoulders. He presses into the floor, now sobbing for a completely different reason.

Now he cries for the beautiful music soothing his heart. He cries for the comfort he’s longed for since everything changed for the worst. He cries for the choir with their sacred voices singing for a divine love towards heaven and one another.

How badly he wants to be apart of it all. To not be alone anymore.

He hugs himself tighter and tries to remember his father’s scarred hands on his stomach and back.

No one hugs here. Not law enforcement, social services, or reporters. He’s too old for the nuns to give him more than a reluctant pat on the back, pushing him towards his next activity on the itinerary.

For one sacred second, here in this closet, Matt Murdock feels comforted, held, and loved. Through their voices alone, Matt feels the presence of God wrapped around him.

If the church was the bride of Christ, then maybe it could be his mother as well. Embrace him with the maternal affection he will never experience in the flesh.

_____

Matt jolts awake, startled at first.

Why is it so dark? Where is he? Where did the voices go? Did he fall asleep and for how long because it’s so dark and- oh.

Right.

His heartbeat settles as he remembers everything. Then his brow crumbles, threatening to repeat the entire process of the previous moment.

A firm hand squeezes his shoulder.

“Matthew? Matthew Murdock?”

A low, soft voice. Father Lantom. He recognizes that quiet authority from mass.

Matt is half asleep, eyes swollen and aggravated. His temples pulse with the start of a migraine. His lips are puffy from being chewed on, drool and spit and blood crusting on his round cheeks. He flushes with embarrassment at how he must look in front of the priest.

“Son, what are you doing in here?” He’s in huge trouble now.

How can he explain to the priest that he wasn’t trying to disobey? He just needed to-

He only wanted to…

Hide.

He doesn’t remember how it started. Only that the other boys made fun of his father for losing a match and that he must not have been that good. Jack Murdock was probably so embarrassed he killed himself and then, Matt’s hands were flying out in wild directions until they struck someone. Then he was shoved. Kicked. And a fist flew into his nose.

The sound of his cartilage crunching and the blood bursting from between his skin cells terrified him more than the pain of being beat up by three other boys. Somehow he crawled far enough away to scramble to his feet.

Their laughter and feet were loud and so he ran. He ran, collecting more bruises on his knees, face and feet as he kept slamming into things, unaware of his surroundings and too terrified to orient himself.

Then he found the closet. The choir. God’s divine bride cradling him in heavenly voices.

“I…” Matt shuffles into a sitting position, still half-coherent. He felt drunk on the music and now that it had stopped, he felt the stark emptiness that was quickly taking over his whole life and becoming a constant companion.

Father Lantom hums and Matt can feel he’s being stared at.

“Never mind it. You’ve made quite the mess. Let’s get you outta here and cleaned up. We’ll have you back to the nuns before anyone’s the wiser.”

“Sir? I-I mean Father…” Matt is confused by the lack of punishment. He’s trying to sort through why he can hear Father Lantom’s skin stretch into a smile and further away, hear the sound of churchgoers arriving in the sanctuary. Footsteps and coats and soft greetings.

“Unless you have something to confess?”

“What?” Now, Matt’s truly confused. Did the boys lie to the nuns? Well, Matt did instigate it…but it was in self-defense so technically speaking-

“Matthew, you’re sitting on the floor of the confessional and by the look of that guilty face, something awful is weighing on your conscience. It’s enough that you’ve made quite the mess in here and those blood stains won’t come out that carpet for a good while. Now, either tell me what’s on your mind or let’s clean you up.”

“Oh…sorry.” Matt sniffs. He runs the back of his arm across his face, unbeknownst to him, smearing the snot and blood garishly across his young face.

Father Lantom sighs. He stands up, then offers his hand. “Up you go, Matthew.”

Matt accepts the hand that pulls him to his feet as if he weighs nothing.

Father Lantom clamps down on Matt’s shoulder and Matt expects him to turn his small body in the direction of the nearest bathroom to clean up.

Matt nearly twists his ankle as Father Lantom pulls Matt into his chest instead. Matt finds his face buried in the priest’s shirt, buttons pressing into his cheek. The priest hunches slightly to wrap both arms around the young boy.   

Hugging him.

Matt’s lips tremble, but he couldn’t face anyone if he cried again. Besides, he was too exhausted. Everything hurt.

Father Lantom pulls back, keeping his arm across the young boy’s shoulders. Matt turns his face up at him, waiting for some explanation.

“You just looked like you could use it.” Father Lantom smiles. Then, satisfied with his appraisal, Father Lantom turns Matt’s stance the opposite direction and begins to walk with him towards the back exit, towards the orphanage.

“Now, we’ll keep this a secret between us. Priestly confidentiality and all that. I’ll tell Sister Susan a wild rat got into the booth and I had to do what I had to do.”

Matt snorts. Pain flares up his nose, across his face and to his temples.

But he keeps smiling. Bloody face and all.

[m3rricat]

Advocatus Ardens - Ch. 1

>>Read on AO3<<

Pairing: Wyll/Astarion

Rating: M

Wyllstarion slowburn set in a modern-with-magic-lurking-there AU Baldur's Gate and eventually other settings; public defender attorney!Wyll and client!Astarion

A/N: Welp starting to post this earlier than expected but I got a 25k buffer and enough of an idea where this is going so let's do this! Will not be posting the whole thing on tumblr, just linking to AO3 above. I'm hoping to update every Sunday.

Tag list (you guys said you wanted to be notified on that first post I made about this fic, just let me know if you want me to take you off. Thanks!): @tea-time221 @kringle-c

Story summary:

In the modern world of Toril, the existence of magic and devils and the like are believed to be relics of the distant past. But Wyll Ravengard knows all too well that these things still lurk in the corners of his own city, Baldur’s Gate, where he fights every day in the arena of the courtroom for his clients who have no one else by their side. One mundane morning, he meets one of his semi-regulars in lockup, Astarion Ancunín, a rare elf remaining in this world. What seems like one of Astarion’s usual street-level run-ins with the law explodes into something much more—something touching the highest levels of the city-state’s government and infernal planes beyond. Wyll struggles against the forces in and out of the system that wish to use Astarion, and at the same time contends with his own long-sleeping pact with a higher power which will lead him and Astarion on a journey far beyond the familiar confines of the Gate.

Chapter preview:

Her voice rang out clear as a bell that morning in his head, as if she was snuggled under the rumpled sheets right next to him.

Good morning, pet.

Wyll Ravengard’s eyes shot open, cold sweat beading all over, his bedside clock blaring bright-red 6:19AM like a dire warning.

Gods. It had been years, literal years, since her words had slithered through his brain, dripping as they always did in self-satisfaction. And, just like when he had been seventeen and scared shitless, wandering that psych unit like ghost, Wyll forced himself to not respond against the rising tide of panic. He lay unmoving in his bed, both numb and painfully sharp as fear crackled through his nerves.

[bikinibottomdayz]

OCTOBER 25, 2024 RELEASE

All my videos can be found here, full release under the read more! I am also offering the two Great Gatsby videos as a bundle for 30 USD! If interested, please contact me at bikinibottomtrading@gmail.com!

This release includes: Maybe Happy Ending, Moulin Rouge! (John/Solea), The Roommate, Empire Records, Great Gatsby (Alex Prakken)

EMPIRE RECORDS September 25, 2024 | McCarter Theatre | 4K MP4 (8.32GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Lorna Courtney (Corey), Samantha Williams (Gina), Liam Pearce (AJ), Analise Scarpaci (Debra), Tyler McCall (Lucas), Eric Wiegand (Mark), Michael Luwoye (Joe), Damon Daunno (Rex Manning), Taylor Iman Jones (Max), Alex Lugo (Ensemble), Hoke Faser (Ensemble), Sam Poon (Ensemble), Leah Read (Ensemble), Maximilian Sangerman (Ensemble) Notes: Great 4K capture of this world premiere musical! One head obstruction that blocks the center-right, mostly when characters sit / lay on the floor, worked around fairly well but still some missed action. Some moments of wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBJWDh | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL APRIL 17, 2025

MOULIN ROUGE! October 15, 2024 | Broadway | 4K MP4 (10.4GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: John Cardoza (Christian), Solea Pfeiffer (Satine), Frank Viveros (u/s Harold Zidler), David Harris (The Duke of Monroth), André Ward (Toulouse Laurtrec), Pepe Muñoz (Santiago), Sophie Carmen Jones (Nini), Jacqueline B. Arnold (La Chocolat), Nicci Claspell (Arabia), Jeigh Markus (Baby Doll), Cameron Burke (s/w), Olivia Cece (s/w), Aaron C. Finley, Bahiyah Hibah, Kamal Lado, Heather Makalani, Nick Martinez (Pierre), Dylan Paul (s/w), Brandon Stonestreet (s/w), Brooke Taylor, Alec Varcas, Cole Joseph Wachman, Shaun-Avery Williams, Jordan Wynn, Jenn Stafford Yip Notes: Excellent 4K capture of John, Solea, and Pepe’s (scheduled) first performances on Broadway! Roughly one minute total of blackouts due to people walking in the aisles. Action on the far left and on the walkway is obstructed. Some washout on the wider shots. Some wandering and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call and encore, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBNmyU | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL APRIL 17, 2025

MAYBE HAPPY ENDING October 16, 2024 | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (8.96GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Darren Criss (Oliver), Helen J. Shen (Claire), Dez Duron (Gil Brentley), Marcus Choi (James & others) Notes: Great 4K capture of this show’s first preview! There is a tech hold an hour in, it is edited out and the video resumes after the show starts up again. A few brief black outs due to late seating, people leaving etc. Video starts about two minutes into the first song. Some wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes audio of pre-show speech by Michael Arden and curtain call, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBNwwK | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL APRIL 17, 2025

THE GREAT GATSBY June 2, 2024 (M) | Broadway | 4K MP4 (10.28GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Jeremy Jordan (Jay Gatsby), Eva Noblezada (Daisy Buchanan), Alex Prakken (u/s Nick Carraway), Samantha Pauly (Jordan Baker), John Zdrojeski (Tom Buchanan), Eric Anderson (Meyer Wolfsheim), Ryah Nixon (u/s Myrtle Wilson), Paul Witty (George Wilson) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of Alex’s debut as Nick! Minor head obstruction on the bottom, no action is missed. Some moments of wandering and unfocusing. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBtnQs | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL APRIL 17, 2025

THE GREAT GATSBY August 28, 2024 | Broadway | 4K MP4 (10.37GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Alex Prakken (u/s Jay Gatsby), Eva Noblezada (Daisy Buchanan), Noah J. Ricketts (Nick Carraway), Samantha Pauly (Jordan Baker), John Zdrojeski (Tom Buchanan), Eric Anderson (Meyer Wolfsheim), Chilina Kennedy (t/r Myrtle Wilson), Paul Witty (George Wilson). Samantha Pollino (s/w Gilda Grey) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of Alex as Gatsby (on his birthday)! Act One is a bit more wideshot, and in general the filming is slightly worse, but still a very good capture! Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBFdB9 | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL APRIL 17, 2025

THE ROOMMATE August 29, 2024 | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (7.89GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Mia Farrow (Sharon), Patti LuPone (Robyn) Notes: Good 4K capture of this show’s first preview. The first half is wideshot and doesn't have any zooms, but all action is visible. Second half is filmed like normal. Some moments of wandering and unfocusing. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBFqxr | ASKING $16 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL APRIL 17, 2025

I am also offering the two Great Gatsby videos as a bundle for 30 USD! If interested, please contact me at bikinibottomtrading@gmail.com!

[hoardseekers]

Playing a One shot tonight, haven't been a player in a looong time

let me introduce you to the gang

Arden Flinthart - College of Swords Bard

My first character ever, got a revamp. Played by me @trancedraws

Hisvert Thinkerback - Eldritch Knight Fighter

My bestie and protege, obviously. Played by @just-a-newguy

Hilmina Cinnamonstick - Totem Warrior Barbarian

She was raised as a strongwoman in a circus, played by @yes-maam-i-am-not-a-pigeon-spy

Malna Cloudberry - Circle of Wildfire Druid

Arden's feisty niece!

And lastly, For now. Mag the goblinbreaker - Order of the Ghostslayer Bloodhunter

we are trying the Critical role class, wish us luck

i will update as soon as i make the other characters art