#before you try and go “but that's kinda cute!”

[p4ranormaluv]

DAYDREAM (s.jy)

♱ ; you’re hot boxing in your boyfriend’s car and struggling to ride his huge cock.

PAIRING: stoner bf!jake x gf!reader GENRE: smut CONTENTS: dom!jake, sub!reader, hotboxing & shotgunning (aka smoking weed), cowgirl position, starts out kinda slow and lazy, lil spanking, petnames (baby, princess), praise, spit kink, man handling, oddly loving at the end WC: 1.2k

NOTE: wrote this while listening to jake’s recent voice live (again). this was written very quickly and not proofread, keep that in mind

“that’s it. that’s it, baby.” jake croons in your ear, breath fanning against the sensitive skin of your neck. every sensation is heightened right now, thanks to the two of you hotboxing in jake’s car. the air has swirling tendrils of smoke, slightly foggy but definitely not as thick as it could be— it’s just that neither of you could keep your hands off of each other.

jake’s brown eyes are all gooey and sweet. when he looked over to you sitting in his passenger side with that look, you couldn’t help but crawl over into his lap. tasting the strawberry flavor of his chapstick from his plump lips, catching glimpses of the pink in his eyes while he sighed with satisfaction into the heat of your mouth— no one can really blame you for the position you’re in now, slowly sinking down on jake’s cock that you pulled out from his baggy jeans.

his voice is sugary yet slightly textured, that soft accent of his getting thicker as he feels you squeezing tighter around his dick, struggling to take him all due to his over-average size. but you want it so bad.

“y’can take all this dick inside you, right? not too big?” jake asks with a lazy smirk, noticing how your pussy is clenching uncontrollably around him, taking a while to adjust to his girth and length. if you weren’t so fucked up you’d probably notice the ego boost you’re giving him as your hands squeeze at his shoulders and you pant under your breath— but you don’t.

“yes, wan’ it so bad. been thinking about how good it’d feel inside me this whole time.” you confess quietly.

jake is in the middle of taking a drag when you finish your sentence, carelessly setting the blunt down to pull you against his lips. you moan into his mouth as you breath in his smoke, gray and white swirling around you as jake slips his eager tongue inside.

jake’s hips softly pushing deeper into your pussy reminds you how you were struggling to take all of him before, and now he’s completely sheathed inside. he groans as you simultaneously suck on his tongue and your cunt sucks him deeper.

“damn. yeah, baby? can feel how bad you want it, pussy’s so wet.”

your eyes zero in on how jake brushes his fingers through his hair, the softly curled ends immediately falling back over his brows, framing his face perfectly. you have no idea how he can be so cute and sexy at the same time, but he balances it effortlessly.

your hips start to slowly grind in his lap, jake returning the movement with lazy little thrusts. his hands move to grip tightly around your waist, you reacting with a small whine as you arch your back further, moving barely faster.

“fuck, atta girl.” jake murmurs, only motivating you to go harder, crying out as you start to full on bounce up and down his cock.

jake mutters a broken expletive under his breath, hands trailing lower to squeeze at your ass, feeling how it jiggles with each drop of your hips and wishing he could see it from the back. (next time, he’s fucking you in front of a mirror)

he feels his stomach tense, moaning in pleasure as his skull falls back against the head rest.

your pussy could be jake’s downfall, it could destroy him if you let it— and he really wishes you would. he might smoke weed a lot, but the only addiction he has is to you and your wet little cunt, always eager to take his fat cock— even when you try and play hard to get. and how gorgeous you look when you ride his face? fuck. nothing makes him feel as high as you do.

jake’s hand spanking your ass, the sting lighty burning into your skin as you gasp and take a deep breath of the foggy air— it’s like that’s enough to snap the last string of your boyfriend’s control.

there’s the sound of a drawn out ‘thunk’— then the driver’s seat is falling down, your barely covered tits that are suppressed in a tank top pressing against jake’s hard chest as you fall down with it.

“that’s it, princess. bounce that sexy ass on my fat cock.”

you can’t control the sounds that escape your lips anymore, whimpering and crying out as your wet pussy slamming against jake’s groin fills the car with the noise of slapping skin.

you sit up on your elbows, jake’s face practically in your tits with the new position. your thighs clench tightly around his body as he leans up to kiss at your neck, sucking marks into the skin with his hot mouth. he’s always messy— so whether it’s on purpose or accidental, his spit leaves a cold tingle against your skin. when you feel the faint tickle of a small droplet running down to your clavicle, you can’t help but whine out, opening your mouth to him while giving jake begging eyes.

jake obliges with a shaking exhale, face almost turning as desperate as yours when he sees your cute, fucked out face. his hand holds you still by the jaw, leaning up to spit in your mouth with a nasty, wet noise. your cunt squeezes so tight around him that jake can hardly keep from busting inside. he watches how you savor him on your tongue before swallowing, staring at him with your pretty eyes before opening your mouth and showing him how it’s all gone.

jake can’t help the growl he lets out, pulling you down somewhat roughly to passionately kiss you. he’s not even letting you move at this point, his hands controlling your hips and moving you up and down his cock like a fleshlight, fucking into you with complete unrestraint.

“that’s my girl, my dirty little princess. lettin’ this dick stretch out your messy cunt.”

“mmm, fuck— jakey.” you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as jake man handles you.

“i daydream about you all the time, y’know. missin’ you when i wake up without you, thinkin’ about your cute smile and cuddles.”

jake creeps one hand down to your pussy, starting to rub little circles against your clit. you swear you feel him trace a heart too.

“wanna— wanna wake up to you every morning, baby. wanna make you feel this good everyday. don’ wanna miss you no more.”

your ears pound, heart beating almost out of your chest as a spiral coils tighter in your belly, feeling like it’s about to burst. jake’s free hand is pressed on your back, making your pussy flutter with how large it is against your spine. your eyes sting from the smoke, but you force them open to gaze into jake’s pussy drunk eyes. the love that casts over the gorgeous brown with a glossy sheen has you hugging him closer to you.

“i’m— i’m close, jakey. please?”

“go ahead, princess.” you barely hear jake say over your moans and the blood rushing in your ears.

you cum with a cry, your release flooding over jake’s cock and dripping down between his balls. jake has a full body tremble, but he doesn’t let go— and he doesn’t stop his thrusts, still slowly fucking into you even after your high ends.

“wan’ more, baby? wan’ more of this cock?”

you wordlessly nod your head, delirious as jake fucks you stupid. all you know how to do is rock your little hips, taking the swollen, needy tip of jake’s dick deeper inside your creamy pussy.

“yeah, baby. use it like a toy, huh? use jakey’s big cock to make your little pussy feel good.”

REBLOG/COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED

[flemingology]

kitbag chronicles ─ alessia russo x reader

in which: you voice your love for alessia through the notes you put in her kitbag

warnings: none, tiniest bit suggestive if you squint

wc: 1.4k

a/n: finally got around to writing something for my number 1. this is so incredibly random and it's all over the place, but idk i lowkey kinda like it... i think? idk i probably shouldn't reread it because i might hate it if i do. hope you enjoy!

Ever since you and Alessia started dating, the England striker had made it very clear that she loved the little things you did for her. Memorising her coffee order, remembering her favourite flowers, new scented candles in her favourite scent on a bi-weekly basis. If you asked Alessia, she would say you were the most thoughtful person she’d ever met.

You’d grown to love the smile you put on your girlfriend’s face with those small displays of affection. You were forever seeking new ways to show your love for her, without stating the obvious over and over again. It kept both of you on your toes, always working on your relationship and making the other fall in love with you over and over again.

The last couple weeks, you'd found something new to do for Alessia. Her busy schedule keeping her away from you almost every single day of the week, you had to find ways to work around it and to remind Alessia that, even when she was at the club, you were thinking about her.

Since a couple months, it had become a little tradition that you prepared Alessia's kitbag. It wasn't much work at all, all she put in there were a shirt and a pair of trousers, or shorts – based on what the weather was like that day in London. You insisted that you did it for her, claiming that that way you felt like she had a little part of you with her during the day.

Today, though, you felt like trying something different. When you were younger, your mum always prepared your lunchbox for when you went to school. To make it a little extra special, she always added a little note for you to discover when you had lunch. It could be something funny, a drawing or simply a reminder how much she loved you – you didn't mind the teasing that came with it from your friends.

You figured it would be something Alessia loved, seen how much she usually liked it when you did little things like that for her. So this morning, after putting the blonde's training top and trousers in her kitbag, you grabbed a note and started writing something down. You decided to keep it simple for your first time of doing this, something you knew would just give Alessia a little spring in her step for the rest of the day. "Go get em, Lessi. Can't wait to have you home with me again tonight," is what you decided on, quickly putting away the pen and putting the piece of paper in her bag before she could see what you were up to.

When Alessia left later that morning, you pushed her kitbag in her hands, as you did every day. With a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips and a quick hug, she was out the door with the promise of cooking together later that night. Love goes through the stomach, or whatever they say.

It was no longer than 30 minutes later when your phone chimed with a message from your blonde lover.

From: Less 🤍 I got the note, baby. So cute. I love you so much :')

You smiled brightly at your phone screen, a warm, fuzzy feeling coursing through you at the idea of Alessia opening her kitbag and finding the note. You quickly typed a message back to her, wanting her to read it before she inevitably had to get her day going at the training centre.

To: Less 🤍 It's true, though. Counting down the hours until you're home, like every day. Go kick ass, my love. x

With you working from home, it had been quite the adjustment. Normally, when Alessia went to the training centre, you'd also leave the apartment and be on your way to your office. But with Alessia's recent transfer to Arsenal, swapping Manchester for London, it wasn't so straightforward anymore for you to go into the office everyday. 2 hours 30 on the train or easily 4 hours by car, it just wasn't doable anymore for a daily job. So you and your boss agreed that you could work from home in London, with one visit to the office a month. You were forever grateful for the opportunity, very glad that you didn't have to find a new job in London, but it brought its hardships too.

Quite frankly, you grew quite bored at home. You had your work, and you always managed to fill the best part of 8 hours with whatever you had to do that day, but the house felt empty without Alessia. A new city, new surroundings, new apartment, you hadn't quite accustomed to it all yet and you hadn't failed to make it known to Alessia that you missed her terribly whenever she was out at training.

Nonetheless, you would never stand in the way between her and her career, it was just another obstacle that you two would have to face and manoeuvre around, but you were certain that you would navigate it perfectly. You had a strong relationship, and everyone around you would probably say that you were made for each other.

With the knowledge gathered that Alessia enjoyed her little note, you took it upon yourself to give her some more frequently. Not every day, because you didn't want her to grow old of them, but you sprinkled some in throughout the week – keeping her on her toes.

It wasn't until one particular morning at the Arsenal training centre that Alessia realized that her notes wouldn't just always be you loving up on her. She'd left you high and dry that morning before leaving, feeling you up and kissing all over your body until her alarm went off. She was reluctant about finishing what she had started, despite your whining when she left you alone in bed and had started getting ready for her day. She didn't want to be late, understandably, but she also left you with a very uncomfortable throbbing between your legs. Her promise of continuing her ministrations later that night hadn't really convinced you, and you decided to tease her a little about it through a note.

This time, unlike all the other times you'd left a note in Alessia's kitbag, you didn't receive a message about. Not just that, the Arsenal striker hadn't texted you all day and you couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about what you did. You didn't want to push it too far, but you were starting to feel like you did. You texted her a little after lunch-time, wishing her a good gym session, but you got left on read.

Later that day, when Alessia came home, you were nervous to approach her. You were upstairs, finishing up on a couple of e-mails, before you went downstairs and joined the blonde who had plopped down on the couch and turned on the football. "Hi, baby," you said softly, pressing a kiss against her cheek. Alessia tried to put on a sour face, but her resolve weakened quickly when you pressed another few kisses all over her face.

"That was mean, you know?" cocking her head at you, eyebrow raised and index finger pointing at you. You couldn't hide the smile that crept on your face. "Don't give me that, Russo! If anyone was mean, it was you. This morning. Leaving me all worked up like that," you reasoned, pointing your index finger right back at her, poking her nose in the process causing a small smile to form on her lips.

"You know what, you're probably right," your girlfriend started, leaning closer towards you and trapping your body in between her arms, positioning the two of you so she was hovering over you on the couch. "That was so incredibly unfair of me and I think it's only right that I get the opportunity to make it up to you."

Alessia dipped her head towards your neck and started pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You hummed and tangled one of your hands into her hair, slightly tugging when you could feel the scrape of her teeth on your sensitive skin. "You're lucky I love you, Russo," you breathed.

"Oh, I know. Now let me show you just how much I appreciate you, please."

[yanmuffins]

I like to think Perry is friends with superman. And superman knows readers pet cause he's seen him at Wayne manor but out of respect for being one of the few to out smart lex says nothing about the pets escapades to the Wayne's. Like Clark is just like oh "hey Perry how are ya" and bruce is like "how do you know my kids pet?" "Uhhhhh Jon told me?"

On the other hand Clark has no idea why Perry likes to be treated as a pet despite being a full on super hero. Then he sees how sweetly reader treats Perry and understands that the secret agent just wants some love.

Also another funny thing that would be interesting is if reader had no idea thier family is a bunch of vigilantes. So then it seems like both have their secrets, but much like Phineas, reader isn't trying to hide anything meanwhile batfam is explaining every weird vigilante thing they do.

context &. context &. context.

this is so cute!!!!! ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

clark thinks it's such a happy coincidence. his platypus-secret-agent-also-league-member-coworker just so happens to live with batman's kid, same one whom jon is always going on and on about. the stories his son tells appear too fantastical to be true, but he witnessess it firsthand and is honestly impressed.

he's very natural about it, though. he sees reader, jon and damian building a tower to the moon he just waves at the three of them, telling them to be safe and for jon to be home before dinner. not really sure if he assumes batman knows of his kid's inventions or if he deliberately chooses not to tell him, though.

you are so right about reader not knowing about their family being vigilantes, btw. they kinda give up on making the family try to like them and become very much focused in their own little world, adapting to a new city, doing well in school, keeping in touch with their old friends in metropolis and making new ones in gotham, and ofc enjoying summer to the fullest. that, and with reader being a little oblivious, the little clues that could have made them realize they're living in batman's house go right over their head.

they're very confused when they come across something that is suspicious (in the bafam's eyes) but incospicuous to them, while one of the batfam tries to come up with an excuse. reader just shrugs and leaves. what they do know is that this house is full of weirdoes.

[j1yasworld]

12:34 am — toji ★. reblogs are very appreciated <3

cw: no pronouns used but there is a reference to 'girls', fluff, toji is a sweetheart here <3

“what is this?”

“a present. for you.” toji scratched the back of his head, averting his gaze from yours as your eyes traveled from his form to his outstretched hands that held a small open carton box.

“a kitten?” you say, looking at the small furball and sighing, trying not to let its cuteness steal your heart before having a talk with the man in front of you.

“someone told me girls like this... kinda stuff i guess,” he revealed with an embarrassed tone.

you sure were not used to this flustered version of toji, but of course you weren't going to complain.

you look at the cat again and almost melt at the sight of his big eyes studying you out.

the light grey short fur combined with a pair of blue eyes is just what you'd define with one word: cuteness.

you glance once again at your boyfriend and place your hands on his, looking him straight in the eye, “thank you,” as you take the box from him and just stride away so fast with your new companion.

toji follows up, mumbling something you don't quite grasp as you take a seat on the sofa and he does the same, next to you.

“what are you gonna call 'im?”

“how do you know it's a him?” toji raises his hands in the air, “the person ingot it from said it's a male, not sure how we can check for sure,” he reveals and you hum in response.

you gently take him in your arms, slowly and trying to be as cautious as possible, all the while toji's eyes follow your every movement with pride and love.

he admires how careful and gentle you can be. he just loves your empathetic side that you show to everyone.

“want to hold him?” you ask and he widens his eyes, streching his arms hesitantly as you place the little furball in his arms.

you feel a warmth spread across your chest at the sight before you. toji's big size frestly contrasts with the small kitten, yet it's such an adorable scene that you just can't comment sarcastically as you'd usually do.

you almost chuckle at how toji tries his best to be gentle as the little beast in his arms wiggles from his hold while he tries to keep it at bay.

and you just can't stop your thoughts from drifting away towards a future where the two of you have a child of your own, and you wonder if it'll feel similar to this.

© j1yasworld - 2024 / all rights reserved

[uvobreakmylegs]

favorite fic? of yours and in general

I don't feel like picking and choosing between my own fics so instead I wanna share some fics written by my fellow yandere writers (some of which I may have shared in similar asks in the past but idc I wanna share them again):

from @hypnoswrites:

Chrollo vs a blacklist Hunter (I really enjoy how fast and how easily Chrollo was able to handle that situation, from cleaning up the body to controlling reader)

Illumi uses a needle on reader (love the way poor reader's mind is addled in this one and how easily she disregards the violent scene due to Illumi's influence. love the ending as well, it's so chilling)

Uvogin x reader x Franklin (two big men - my greatest weakness❤️❤️❤️)

vampire Razor (idk how to summarize this one accurately there's so much going on and I love it all so much)

apocalypse AU with Pakunoda (Paku my beloved❤️❤️❤️)

from @ddarker-dreams:

Chrollo's birthday (love me some Greedy Chrollo)

third party recognizes reader while she's out with Chrollo (poor reader tried SO hard to keep the guy away AND keep Chrollo appeased😭)

aftermath of Chrollo's darling being kidnapped (all of the conversations that Lock's readers have with Chrollo are always great to read but this one in particular sticks out in my mind and I love it)

Feitan's darling runs away (THAT FUCKING ENDING OMG)

Scaramouche's darling distracts him (I know next to nothing about Genshin Impact but I really enjoyed this fic❤️❤️❤️)

from @cherrysha:

ABO Uvogin (this fic lives in my head rent free)

Uvo's darling has a nightmare (there's something scary about how Uvo is so violent in trying to find her and how it contrasts with how gentle he is after. the anxiety she feels from her nightmare which then turns into comfort when he has her in his arms)

reader tries to kill Hisoka (poor reader😭)

god AU with Franklin (I love love love the buildup to Franklin's true reveal in this fic. how Franklin's presence is there within the temple once reader visits, but it's only when she finally collects the proper materials that he appears for real before her. plus the addition of reader possibly being in danger if she fails at the task he's set for her. there's a lot of buildup and dread in this fic and I love it)

Meleoron x reader (this fic is just cute as hell and I need to share it)

from @after-witch:

Feitan saves reader after she's been kidnapped (I've definitely shared this one before but that isn't stopping me from sharing it again bc this fic is amazing from beginning to end❤️❤️❤️)

one night stand with Feitan (I just love the way reader and Feitan end up connecting and how reader being herself is enough to make Feitan decide that he wants to keep her)

vampire Chrollo x reader (this is another fic that has so much going on that it's hard to get all of my thoughts on it out. it's just such a fun read and I love The Lost Boys vibes)

Chrollo's patience runs out (just Bastard Chrollo at his finest)

Uvogin retrieves his darling (in these kind of fics you just KNOW that Uvo will be getting his darling after they run, but it's always a wonder as to how that happens and what Uvo's reaction will be)

from @absolute-flaming-trash:

Hisoka buys his darling a gift (using bungee gum as a LEASH omg)

Hisoka looking for his soulmate (I really liked this version of the 30 seconds soulmate au❤️❤️❤️ it was interesting plus it offered more opportunities for reader to annoy Hisoka lol)

Chrollo and kidnapped reader (poor reader😭)

Illumi punishes reader (😳😳😳)

Mahito asking about love (anything with Mahito is generally fucked up due to him being.... himself. but this one had some moments that were kinda cute. like the description of Mahito laying on the bed reading a magazine, or the way he's described looking at reader. but all it takes is for one word and the mood feels dangerous again. also it's currently raining rn so reading this fic feels appropriate)

[squinch-depraved]

ok. now we need the whole damn gang getting their virginity taken, ted but like he’s a little more experienced (knowledge wise) and understands the female body ⁉️

here you go my lovelies part 5 of the virgin college au (new dividers how do we like them)

so.

ted knocks on your door, only a little bit nervous

and you answer it, immediately rolling your eyes and letting him in just like you did with his friends

"let me fucking guess," you start, already knowing what he's here for

"i can do better than them," he cuts you off

"i've done research, i've talked to my friends that are girls, i know i could make you feel better than they did for my first time."

his refusal to beat around the bush takes you by surprise, and you wince as you look around to see if your roommate heard him

"a-alright, ted. follow me, just... shut up. my roommate hasn't left yet."

he nods, grinning, and trails behind you all the way down the hallway and into your room, setting his stuff down on the floor next to the doorway as you crawl onto your bed

jesus, schlatt wasn't wrong. there are so many stuffed animals, ted thinks to himself as he stands there awkwardly, awaiting your instructions

"he talked about my fucking plushies, didn't he," you chuckle, noticing his expression as he tried to count how many there were

"to be fair, he said it was really cute. and he wasn't wrong," ted replies smoothly, walking to sit on the edge of the mattress

"does he know about charlie?" you ask quietly, unable to look him in the eyes

"the text you sent him. he read it."

"fuck," you sigh, running one hand through your hair

"i hope it doesn't cause problems between you guys. schlatt and i have talked; we're not exclusive. i told him that. he can't be mad."

"i don't think he's mad at you," ted reassures you. "i think he's a little hurt that charlie went to you the first weekend he wasn't here, but he'll probably get over it pretty quickly. he's not the type to hold a grudge like that, especially against one of his best friends and the person who took his virginity."

you ponder his words, shaking your head to clear yourself of the knowledge and focus on the task at hand after a few moments

"what exactly makes you think you could fuck me better?" you ask, reclining onto the pile of stuffed animals and stretching your legs out in front of you

ted stammers for only a second, then swiftly responds with, "for starters, i've heard quite a bit about you from schlatt and charlie. kinda goin' into this with a head start, don't you think?"

"'head start' as in you'll finish first? no thanks," you banter

but ted's quick to quip back

"i don't plan on finishing first. but even if i do, i'll go until i make you cum. i'll use my mouth, fingers, whatever you want. hell, i'll keep going with my cock if that's what you need. probably get super overstimulated but i want to make you feel good. i need to do better than them."

you open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find the right response

"y-you're really competitive, huh?"

he laughs quietly and shakes his head

"i just think someone like you deserves to be treated well. more so than those two can do for you."

"you know, you're really lucky you're attractive? because if you weren't, this whole confident, never-been-touched-before-but-i-know-what-i'm-doing schtick would be incredibly annoying."

ted grins, a goofy smile that warms your heart slightly, and jokes, "it'll get annoying fast. just wait."

with a snort, you motion for him to crawl on top of you, and he does, staring down at you with his gorgeous hazel eyes for a few seconds before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips

"mmmfhhh," you moan against him as he gently bites down onto your bottom lip

ted smirks into the kiss and uses one hand to cup your face as he slides his tongue into your mouth, other hand reaching under your shirt to feel for your chest

once he takes your nipple between his fingers, you gasp and arch your back slightly, desperate for more contact

frustratedly, you withdraw from the kiss, a string of saliva leaving you connected

he watches with a hungry smile as you peel your top off, taking the strings of your sweatpants in one hand and tugging on them gently

"greedy!!" you tease him

but you indulge him, slipping out of the pants and tossing them off the side of the bed

his breath hitches in his throat at the sight of you nearly bare in front of him, clad in only a skimpy pair of panties that he so desperately wants to rip off with his teeth

"thought you said you know what you're doing," you snicker, amused by his vacant expression

your joke snaps him out of it, and he pulls his shirt over his head with one arm, reaching behind him to grab the fabric from the nape of his neck and paying no mind as it falls to the floor

"f-fuck," you stutter

he's thrown you off a bit with how smooth the motion is, not to even mention how good he looks just wearing jeans

ted notices your hesitation and grins, spreading your legs open and crawling in between them

"they weren't this forward, were they?"

you let out a shaky breath as he plants a sloppy kiss to your neck

"no," you sigh. "they weren't."

"mm. bet you had to tell them what to do."

"yeah, i did. schlatt was okay, he got the hang of it, but charlie was- agh! fuck!" you hiss when he takes your flesh between his teeth and bites down, sucking a dark mark into it

"ted!!"

"what?" he purrs, pulling away to look at you

usually you were the one that left the bruises

now, whenever you saw schlatt, you'd have even more explaining to do

when he realizes you're unable to come up with anything to say, he smirks down at you and moves to kiss your chest

"you were telling me about charlie?" he asks before taking one nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it

"yeah. um, fuck. uhh, he was... he was good," you stammer, rolling your eyes back into your head slightly

"he didn't give a lot of details. i'm guessing he's more of a gentleman than schlatt?"

your face heats up even more at his words uttered against your warm skin

"you could say that." you decide to not say anything else in case charlie was embarrassed

"fuck, you're so hot," he groans as he presses his face between your breasts and brings them to sandwich his head

a laugh escapes you, the melodic sound filling the air and causing ted to raise his head to look at you

"this isn't sexy, is it?"

you giggle again and smooth down a wild tuft of his hair

"not in the usual way, but your awkward eagerness to please is kind of turning me on."

he grins again and sits up, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off

you try not to, but you can't help but stare at his clothed bulge

he looks so sexy in his boxers, a small happy trail now complimenting his chest hair

"what?" he asks, smile faltering for just a moment when you can't do anything but admire him

"n-nothing. i just-"

"doesn't matter," he cuts you off by clambering on top of you again, leaning in to make out with you passionately

a surprised, yet aroused moan slips from your lips, and he uses one hand to tug off your panties in a seamless motion that you swear he has to have practiced before

"so wet for me already, damn."

you can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back and spreads your folds open with two fingers

"gonna taste you now."

"mhm," you answer absent-mindedly, too focused on the way his cock twitches through his boxers

ted stares up at you once he positions himself right in front of your cunt, giving you a look of pure desire

gingerly, he scoots closer and presses a wet kiss to your clit, eyes flicking between your dazed expression and your soaked pussy to make sure he's doing it right

eventually he starts dipping his tongue into your hole, savoring the taste and mirroring you by groaning softly into you

you're whining and moaning and bucking your hips in pure bliss, because, for once, you don't have to teach this fool how to make you feel good

he's incredible; better than schlatt was at first

"ted!! fuck, fuck me, oh my god," you babble, bringing your legs to wrap around his head

"mm, not yet. enjoying how sweet you are on my tongue," he coos into your dripping core

with an agonized wail, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him even closer against your cunt

"this isn't fair," you whine, yet you smile dreamily as you say it

"i think it is. you put up with so many guys that don't know what they're doing, and finally one comes along who did the research to know how to make you feel good, and you just wanna rush things. it's sad."

"research won't mean shit if i get you worked up enough," you chuckle breathlessly

"maybe. we'll have to see," he muses, shoving his face back between your thighs

the unexpectedness of the whole situation makes it surprisingly easy for you to cum

ted picks up on your signals, speeding up when you start arching your back, curling his fingers inside you when you begin to scream his name

a mess is made all over his face, along with your bedsheets, when you release; stars fleck your vision and pulse in time with your heartbeat, which you can hear clear as day in your ears

"see? now i can fuck you," he pants, immense pride obvious in his tone

"shut the fuck up and take those off," you growl, reaching to tug at the hem of his boxers

he laughs and obliges, pumping himself in one hand and absorbing the look of hunger in your eyes

"fuck, ted," you whisper, excited to take his length, but unsure of how much it would hurt

"oh! hold on," he exclaims, rising from the bed and going to dig into his bag by the door

it takes him a second, and you impatiently blow some hair out of your face as you wait, but he returns with a condom

just tears it open with his teeth and slides it on, with relative ease, considering he's never used one before

once he's wrapped, he slides between your legs again, kissing you one more time before pressing his tip to your entrance

"you ready?"

he sounds so loving, so patient

so it's a shock when you mumble a, "yes," and he pushes into you forcefully, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp and wince

"what's wrong??" he asks, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it to his lips to kiss

"nothing. big. hurts a bit. just go," you spit out rapidly

ted grins and proceeds to start pumping in and out of you, head falling forward as he processes the pleasure he's receiving as your walls envelop him

"fuck, baby!" he grunts once he establishes a brutal pace

"this good?"

"you like how i'm fuckin' you?"

unable to speak, you nod and dig your nails into his back, clawing him up and down

"not bad for my first time, right?" he chuckles

"you- fuck! have got the ego of a god," you gasp, locking your legs around him

"good thing i fuck like one, then, hmm?"

you let out a strangled growl, a bit mad that he actually is as good as he said he'd be, and dig your nails deeper into his back

"you're so fucking annoying," you manage to choke out

"hah! see, told you it'd get annoying fast," he laughs

"god, fuck, ted, i don't- i'm gonna cum again- i'm- fuck..." you ramble, squeezing your legs tighter and tighter around him

"you keep- ngh, clenching like that around me and i'm gonna cum too," he groans, more breathless than before

"fuuuck, teddy!!!" you wail, your whole body shuddering for a moment before going limp

ted just grunts and slams into you a bit harder a few more times, burying himself in you and collapsing onto you, chest heaving

"get off me, you loser," you tease in mock disgust, secretly enjoying the scent of his sweat as it drips down onto you

he rolls to the other side of the bed, smiling, and stares up at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath

you joke with each other for a few minutes before your phone starts ringing

a glance at the screen reveals it's schlatt calling

ted starts getting dressed as soon as he sees who it is

and good thing too, because as soon as you answer, schlatt's voice rings through the phone, audible to both of you even though he's not on speaker

"i'm on my way over right now. we need to fucking talk."

that's all he says before he hangs up

the terrified expression on your face is enough for ted to toss his bag over his shoulder and rest one hand on your bedroom dorknob

"i should probably leave, huh?"

"yeah."

"...cool. we should do this again, though, right?"

a small smile spreads across your face

"...yeah."

[dira333]

All tricks, one treat - Suna Rintarou x Reader

cupid - for @moochiwoochi for the Milestone Event Week 1

“So, uh, what’s your type?”

You lift your head to stare at the waiter. “What?”

“Your type,” he sends you a cheeky grin. “What is it?”

“Not you.”

His grin widens. “Kinda figured that out already but thank you. So, your type?”

“What’s this?” You eye him before leaning to the side to eye his twin at the counter, shaping Onigiri. “Does he know you’re doing this?”

“No, lean back, will you?”

You smirk, turning your head but not leaning back. “And what will that get me?”

“I’ll pay for your drinks, now lean back.”

You smile as you settle back in your chair. “In that case, I’ll take another one. You know what I’m drinking anyway.”

He sighs. “Listen,” he checks if his brother’s paying attention before turning around. “I have this friend that would be amazing for you, but he’s a little-”

“No.” 

“You haven’t even let me finish.”

“I’m not letting you set me up with anyone.”

“Fine,” he huffs, “Your loss.”

-

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

“No, Atsumu,” you cut him off this week before he can offer you the usual. “I don’t want to be set up.”

“But you’re single, right?”

You grumble under your breath but his grin is persistent and so is he.

“Fine,” you huff quietly. “I am single. But so are you, right?”

“Temporarily,” he tells you with confidence. “How about I invite him here, no pressure, and you can check if you even like him. He won’t even know we’ve talked about this before.”

“You’re as subtle as a Tiger trying to play Giraffe.”

“That’s an awful comparison.”

You shrug and take your usual seat, waving at Osamu to let him know you’re here.

You’re pretty sure Atsumu’s not going to give up just like that.

-

“He’s here,” Atsumu announces one week later. 

“Who? Your replacement? Why are you dressed as a waiter when you don’t even work here anymore?”

“I’m helping out,” Atsumu hisses, but he’s quick to get back on track. “My friend, the one I mentioned. He’s here.”

“Pease don’t tell me-”

“Oh, hi Bokkun.” Atsumu’s face is one big smile. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

Bokkun, or Bokuto, as he introduces himself, smiles just as big. “Good to see you too!”

You have to admit, he’s good-looking, though he almost upturns your table as he tries to pull Atsumu into a bone-crushing hug right in front of you.

You look around for a different table, locking eyes with a guy in the next booth over.

His eyes glow like yellow diamonds and he gives you a lazy smile that could mean absolutely everything and nothing at the same time.

Embarrassed, you turn back to the commotion in front of you.

“Bokkun, this is a friend of mine. Do you wanna sit with her while I get us something to eat?”

You watch helplessly as Bokuto takes that offer, grinning back at you from the other side of the table.

Sure he’s cute, but he reminds you of a Golden Retriever whereas you’ve always been more of a black cat type of girl.

He immediately begins to talk, telling you all about today’s training and the shenanigans he and Atsumu get into on the daily when all you’ve wanted was a quiet dinner after work.

Looking for help your eyes wander around the restaurant, soon finding yourself eye-to-eye with your booth neighbor again.

“Need help?” He mouths wordlessly. You nod.

He gets up and walks over. 

“I’m sorry,” he leans in, cutting Bokuto off and your thoughts as well. He’s even prettier this close. “I might be wrong, but don’t we know each other?”

“Yes,” you grasp that excuse with both hands. “Middle School, right? What was your name again? You sat in front of me, I think.”

“Suna. Suna Rintarō.” His handshake is firm and reassuring. “I’d love to catch up, but if you’re occupied-” He gestures at Bokuto who doesn’t seem to get the hint.

“Oh, Bokuto here is a friend of the waiter, I think. He was just sitting with me to keep me company, but I’m sure he won’t mind. Right, Bokuto-san?”

“Right?” He answers, a little confused.

“Well in that case,” Suna points at his booth and you take your escape as quick as your legs allow.

-

Suna, as it turns out, is just as fun as he’s helpful, making you giggle with comments about his own teammates - apparently you don’t have anything against volleyball players, you just have something against Atsumu Miya.

“I’m gonna be right back,” you tell him an hour into what feels like a date before heading to the bathroom.

When you return, Atsumu’s bright blond hair is shining like a beacon from the booth you just left.

Sighing inwardly you try your best to sneak up to him undetected.

“For the last time, Tsumu, I’m not interested in meeting the girl you want to set me up with. I came here tonight because I wanted to eat Onigiri and also I just met someone I like-”

“You’re not listening to me-”

“Atsumu Miya,” you interrupt him, satisfied when he jumps at the sound of his own name. “I do think you need to learn some boundaries. We don’t want your useless help!”

Atsumu gapes at the two of you for a whole second before he gathers himself, cackling. “You guys don’t understand. I was setting up the two of you and it looks like it worked.”

You blink. Suna groans.

“But what about Bokuto?”

“Distraction,” Atsumu grins. “You would have hated Suna if I had introduced him to you. But you like him now, am I right? Heh?”

You glare at him, unable to look over at Suna now who sighs.

“Tsumu, you have one chance to leave this booth right now or I’ll start sharing that one video from High School that you begged me to delete.”

Panic flashes over Atsumu’s face as he gets up. “I’m gone, I’m gone!”

But even as he seemingly vanishes into thin air, you can’t relax after this.

“I’m really sorry about this,” you tell Suna without really looking at him. You can see that he’s nodding.

“Me too. He’s going to hold this over our heads forever.”

“Mhm.”

“So… dessert?”

When you blink up at him now, he’s grinning, sly and lazy and very appealing.

“I do like you, you know. Atsumu be damned,” he mutters, sliding one hand over the table to take yours.

“Fine,” you say, more to yourself than to him, before you slide into the booth once more. “But I’ll pick the dessert.”

And from the way his knee knocks into yours under the table you know he knows you feel the same way about this.

A little conflicted, a little relieved, and a whole lotta interested.

[merakiui]

gidel deserves a little sibling of his own and after multiple failed attempts to steal a kid (apparently people take that kinda thing seriously? who knew!) fellow just throws up his hands and decides making one of his own is easier and carries way less legal threats

Fellow trying and failing at crime is so funny omg….. he’s really doing his best. Maybe you’re set to be shipped off as a puppet, but he thinks he could use you to be the mother for his child. One minute you’re certain you’re never going to be able to move again and that you’ll be cursed to be a wooden doll for the rest of your days, and the next you’re waking up in an unfamiliar bedroom, able to move in a body that is no longer wooden but very obviously restricted and restrained.

Fellow who, despite being silver-tongued and smooth with schemes, is actually very awkward. He’s never made a kid before!! T_T and you’re squirming so much. Just relax. You don’t want to be turned to wood and shipped off with the rest, do you? He’s giving you a chance to pick a significantly better (in his eyes) option. Don’t you want to keep a sliver of your freedom? He can give that to you; you just need to give him a child. Please. He’s not going to beg (he might), but do it for dear Gidel’s sake!!! It’s no fun for a child to grow up without a sibling. You understand and sympathize, don’t you? After all, he knows you’re a kind-hearted person who will agree. :) and kind-hearted soon-to-be mother… he’ll flatter you so much, saying you’re just made for this, you’re so soft and motherly, so sweet, an absolute dearie peach! <3

Knocking you up just like that (actually,,, it’s just Fellow’s luck that it doesn’t happen the first try and so now he’s coming back to you with his tail between his legs like,,, “my dear, you may not find this to be particularly good news, but we’re going to have to…try again!!!”) He’s handling it tactfully, though, but even then he’s starting to feel just a little impatient. >_< can’t you get pregnant any faster… orz please,,, he’s trying so hard… unexpectedly pathetic.

And of course he didn’t really factor in the fact that he’d grow attached to you and the child through the process. But he’s dedicated to this, to you, to the baby. He hopes you’ll let him hold them… 🥺 he’ll be good… unexpectedly soft yan (via Stockholm syndrome) and now he’s a father and you’re a mother and you have a family together with your kid and Gidel. The horrors from earlier in your one-sided relationship seem so faraway now that the little one is in your arms.

In my heart Fellow salivates over you when you’re pregnant. You’re just so pretty and it’s not empty flattery. He means every praise and compliment. <3 also also,,, it’s probably just so fascinating and amazing to him that the two of you made something special together. Throughout your pregnancy and even after if there’s anything you want, you just need to push him a little bit (puppy eyes, cute pout, saying his name sweetly, etc) and he’s folding for you. OTL he is not immune to his beloved pregnant wifey. <3 he’s an awkward first-time parent, but he has so much love in his heart and it fills him with so much joy when he makes the baby laugh and smile and gurgle happily. And when their little hand curls around his finger…… yeah, maybe this was the better route instead of kidnapping a child.

[hey-august]

Can you imagine Buggy trying to make it trough no nut November? Spurned on by a joke you made about how you’d literally have to confiscate his nuts and balls to keep him from fiddling himself, making him competitive. Now he’s in hell trying to prove you wrong but too competitive to just give up. The only time he can have his jewels back is when he needs to wash himself or go take a leak…. Maybe he can just hold it a tad longer and you won’t notice? Maybe he can squeeze out the last few drops just once more and- Knock knock! Alright alright he’s done! GEESH don’t hurry a guy.

Be aware that any teasing you will do during that time will be paid back tenfold by December first as soon as the clock strikes midnight. You have created a monster that will not stop at just nutting once.

You know what they say - Shake it once, that's fine. Shake it twice, that's okay. Shake it three times, you're playing with yourself (agaaaaiiinnn)

Buggy didn't think this through. Not entirely. He thought it would be pretty easy. He just needs to keep himself occupied the whole month, keep his mind out of the gutter, stay busy, don't think about how you're keeping his frank and beans safe.

Any little movement and he's wondering if it's you. Are you going to tease him? Play with him? A little stroke? A fondle? A lick? Stick it inside yo-

You're not. That's not the spirit of this agreement. Deal. Bet. Hostage situation.

That's the problem - you won't do those things, so it's all left to Buggy's imagination. How you're sleeping and his erection is just throbbing away somewhere nearby. What if you left the box open accidentally and he could just fuc-

Time for a cold shower.

Buggy's starting to get worried that he's going to have a wet dream at some point. That you'll wake up, check on your pet rock(hard dick), and find it marinating in some baby juice. And he LOSES. Because he came in his sleep like some uncontrollable horndog.

By the end of the month, Buggy is a mess. But also real clean, from all the showers. For the last few days, he had been drunk off his ass. Maybe giving himself whiskey dick was cheating, although there wasn't an explicit rule against it.

And, honestly, it was kinda cute listening to Buggy slur at midnight that he won! He's nawt a losher, he didn' cum at all. The whoooole month. No cum- no nut novembutt hehehe

He promises to give you the dicking of a lifetime. And he...falls asleep. Does he have a wet dream that night? Hm. Who knows. And maybe if he did, someone cleaned it up before Buggy woke up and noticed.

In the end, Buggy did win. And he's excited for his prize.

[azriona]

Coffee Thievery

Pre-Bucky/Reader, ~500 words, Rated Gen (it's a meet-cute, guys, keep your clothes on). Set in the Not a Fairy Tale Kiss 'verse but not necessary to read that to enjoy this very fluffy ficlet. Today is Election Day and I wanted to give you a little bit of fluff on what is sure to be a stressful day. Please remember to vote if you're eligible and take care of yourselves! No coffee was harmed or spilled in the making of this ficlet.

Summary: It is a perfectly normal morning in Avengers Tower, and you are on a perfectly normal mission to steal Clint’s coffee, when a complication turns up at the breakfast table.

Read it on AO3 or just read it here!

The op is going perfectly when you realize you’ve been made.

It’s not your fault. Everything had been going exactly to plan: Clint’s coffee is sitting on the table, exactly where he always puts it. He’s forgotten the sugar – again, it’s a very reliable failing – and it’s not on the table like it usually is because you made sure of that as soon as you’d gotten back from the mission the night before.

So Clint’s digging in the deep well that is the pantry, trying to find the sugar, and you’re sneaking around the side like Indiana Jones, and that’s when you realize that it’s not just Clint in the pantry and Natasha on the couches reading her book.

It’s also the guy sitting at the other end of the table, holding his own mug of something and frowning at you like he’s about to blow your cover.

He’s cute, especially with his nose wrinkled like that, all frowny-faced. His hair’s dark brown and tucked behind his ears, like he normally wears it short but has missed a haircut or three, and you can tell even from here that his eyes are the bluest blue to ever blue. He’s wearing layers of soft cotton shirts and a strange shiny glove on one hand and he’s so clean-shaven you can see the slightly reddened skin, as if it’s been a while and he couldn’t wait another minute.

A little disappointing; a bit of stubble would probably look good on him. Contemplating how he would look more disheveled is probably why you’re distracted from your goal long enough to let him open his mouth, like he’s about to announce your presence.

You quickly start motioning to him Stop stop stop! Shut up shut up shut up! Slashing at your throat, one finger over your mouth, mouthing no no no, the works.

He stares at you, still incredulous, mouth open, before turning to look at Natasha.

Natasha looks up, looks at you, looks at Mysterious But Adorable, shrugs, and turns a page in her book.

MBA just looks back at you, still incredulous, but you grin and ease forward to slowly remove your goal from the table.

You’re already at the door to the stairwell for your exit when you hear Clint talking.

“We need to order more—fuck. Barnes! I thought you were watching my coffee!”

“I was,” says MBA – Barnes, apparently.

Barnes. Oh. It clicks.

“You were.”

“Yeah, I watched it as someone came in here, took it, and left again.”

“You…” Clint’s sputtering now.

“She went to the elevators,” offers Barnes helpfully, “if you want to try to catch her.”

“That little minx, I’m gonna—”

The door to the stairwell (conveniently on the other side of the floor from the elevators) closes quietly behind you so you can’t hear the rest of the exchange.

Which is really kind of too bad, because if that was James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, fabled war hero, Captain America’s best friend, and just-returned-last-night-from-that-mission-no-one’s-telling-you-about, then he totally had your six and you kinda want to thank him.

(With your tongue. No no, bad thought, put that away, the guy was a brainwashed assassin for decades, you are absolutely Not Allowed to think about a teammate like that, nopity nope.)

(Well. Maybe once would be okay.)

It’s gonna be a great day, you think cheerfully, as you take a sip of Clint’s coffee and head down to Tony’s lab.

Read the rest of the series on AO3.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

heya i love ur writing and i'm a whore for blue jones (mostly just oscar isaac in eyeliner)

but i love the idea of like a really soft blue. like needy but not sexually just in a 'i have a need to be around you all the time' kinda way. pining maybe? cuddles for sure and just idk i love my slimy rat man sm-

also would work for nathan bateman, his grumpiness would make that hella cute. i am surviving off crumbs at this point i will love whatever you do, your writing makes my heart feel fluffy :D

xox love ya

PYGMI I LOOOOVVEEE YOUUUUUUU! <3 <3 <3

Pout

Blue Jones x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Blue's a grumpy baby.

Warnings: Fluff, cuddles, kisses, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 549

Blue had been sitting next to you for more than an hour. Well, sitting might be the incorrect word. His chair was next to yours. He was currently doing his best to sit all over you. 

“Blue,” you mutter, “I am meant to be going over these figures… like you wanted.” 

He grumbles lightly, shifting from where his face is pressed into your stomach, his body curled over and half hanging off his chair. 

You have your left arm resting on him a little awkwardly, in an effort to actually get to your desk to read over the numbers. 

“What was that?” You prod him lightly in the side and he wriggles. 

He mumbles something intelligible and then lifts his head up to look at you, half of his short hair sticks up comedically to the side. 

“Hmm?” 

“Fuck the figures.” He repeats a little groggily. 

“Did you fall asleep?” 

He gives you a soft glare. “Maybe.” 

You can’t stop your chuckle. 

“You’re comfortable and warm and you smell nice.” 

“You have a wonderful way of making compliments sound like insults, you know that?” 

He pouts slightly, but you can tell he’s amused by how he preens a little and stretches his neck. “Come and lay down with me on the sofa.” 

“No.” 

“With blankets.”

“No.” 

“I can rest on you and we both can nap.” 

“No.” 

“Why?” He stretches the word out, his voice petulant. 

“Because,” you lean a little closer, making him think you’re going in for a kiss and then pull back quickly and he scowls. “I am checking. The. Figures.” 

He gives you a frown, lifting his hand up to smooth over his moustache before he speaks. “Where’s my kiss?” 

“Up your ass.” 

He gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen and you giggle. 

“You like this? Like upsetting me?” 

“Very much.” You smile and kiss the tip of his nose. 

He grumbles nonsense and wraps his arms around you fully before snuffling into your chest. “Unfair, so unfair, how could you betray me like this?” 

You kiss the top of his head as you go back to looking over the ledger. 

It’s only a few seconds before he speaks again. “Where are my kisses?” 

“Nowhere, not with that language.” You tease.

He tuts and you can practically feel the eye roll. “May I have a kiss, please?” 

“Now you’re making good manners sounds like demands.” 

“Does nothing ever please you?” He scoffs.

“You please me.” You whisper and you feel him shiver and untense. 

“Don’t go trying to sweeten me with your words.” He shifts closer and kisses your neck softly. 

You smile. “Give me five minutes and I’ll come and lay down with you.

“Thank you,” he breathes deeply. “You do really like winding me up don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He leans back a little to see your face. 

“You poke out your bottom lip when you frown, it’s very cute.” 

He scoffs again, someone even more indigent this time. “I do not.”

“You’re doing it now.” You say, still looking at the book.

He sucks in his lips quickly and then gives you a firm stare when you smile at him. “You’re so mean to me.” 

“You love it.” 

He pauses for a moment, wriggling and then sighs. “Yes… I do.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[samandcolbyownme]

Y/N getting drunk on girls night and calling Zach and he (since he doesn’t drink) takes care of her. Pure fluff, lots of love confessions, lots of “i really want to, trust me I do but you are drunk which means you can’t consent sweetheart”

I’m in the mood to write some fluffity fluff 🖤

Warnings: mentions of drinking, alcohol, flirting, fluff

Word Count: 1.9k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

It started out as dinner and some drinks with the girls, then that quickly turned into everyone being convinced to go to the bar.

And then another bar.

Then finally, another bar.

You finished your last drink when you decided to call it a night, “You..” you laugh as you friend slowly turns around, everything was funny, “You guys have.. a.. fuck, what was I saying?”

She laughs, “I don’t know, but I love this song!” She dances around in place and you gasp, “Oh yeah! Do you guys have a ride.. home?”

“What?” She yells, leaning in, “A what?”

“A ride.. home!”

“Ohhhh!” She nods, “Yeah, Mikayla’s boyfriend is coming.”

“I think I’m gonna call Zach to come get me.” You look down to call him, but you see his face on the screen, “You did call Zach, like ten minutes ago.”

You smile, “Sorry! I’m kinda.. drunk.”

“Kinda?” He smirks, “I’m on my way. Can you meet me out front?”

“Yessir!” You reach out, grabbing your friend on the arm, “Zach is about here.” You lean in and peck her on the cheek, “I gotta go before I fall over.”

You laugh as you walk away and stumble towards the front door. You push it open, taking in a deep breath of the cool, not so stuffy air, “Where’s Zach?”

“I’m pulling up now, sweetheart.”

Your head snaps down, “Zach? When did you get here?”

He laughs and you look up to see a car come to a stop in front of you. You stare, watching as Zach gets out and walks around to you, “Come on.” He holds out his hand and you take it, allowing him to lead you to the passenger seat.

He leans down, pulling the seatbelt over your body and you rest your head back on the headrest as he clicks it into place.

He reaches up, gently brushing your chin with his fingers, “Hey, there’s no puking in my car, got it?”

“Uh huh.” You giggle slightly and furrow your brows as the car door shuts, “Zach?” You look around, pouting as you don’t see him next to you, “Zaaach!”

“Hey, hey. I’m right here, sweetheart. I had to walk around to get in.” He laughs slightly, “God you are so cute when you’re drunk.”

“Only when I’m drunk? Hmm.” You turn your head to look out the window and he reaches over to grab your hand, “No, I think you’re cute all the time.”

You interlace your fingers with his and look over at him, “I knew you liked me, too.”

“Too?!” Zach asks in a faux surprised tone, “What are you saying? That you like me as well?”

“I called you..” You scoff, “When I was drunk.”

“You’re still drunk.” Zach laughs and gives your hand a squeeze, “But you’re right, I’m very appreciative of that.”

You start to giggle and Zach looks over at you, “Did I miss.. the joke, or?”

“N-no, no. I just-“ you sigh, “Zachary Justice likes me.”

Zach smirks, “That he does, but why do you say it like it’s such a bad thing. Have you met yourself?” You furrow your brows as you try to think about how you would meet yourself.

“Alright, alright. That was-“ he laughs, “You don’t need to meet yourself to know you’re amazing. You’re just.. perfect to me in every single way.”

You bite your lip, fighting back a smile as his words replay in your mind, “People aren’t going to believe that Zach justice is nice.”

“What do you-“ he laughs as you cut him off, “Wait!”

“What!” Zach glances over at you and you look at him, “Does this mean I’m your girlfriend?” He shrugs, his thumb running over the back of your hand, “I mean, yeah, if you want to be.”

“Do you get to be my boyfriend?”

“Wow, you really are drunk.” Zach chuckles lightly as he shakes his head and brings your hand up to kiss it, “I’ll be yours forever, just tell me when to start.”

“Right now. Sold.” You pretend to hit an invisible gavel and Zach shakes his head with a smile, “As I said, perfect for me.”

You smile and he comes to a stop at a red light, “Are we going to your house?”

You nod, pointing with your eyes closed, “Yeah, it’s right over there.” Zach nods, “Okay, whatever you say.” He shakes his head and chuckles quietly.

The rest of the short drive was quiet.

“Are we home?” You lift your head and look around, “Hey, we are.” You look at Zach, “Are you walking me in?”

“Um, yeah.” He furrows his brows, “It would be rude of me not to make sure you were okay.”

You reach up, laying your hand against his cheek, “Such a gentleman. Can you carry me in?” He smiles, turning his head to press his lips to your palm, “Anything for you.”

“Wait.” You grab his arm and tilt your head, “We haven’t even had our first kiss yet.”

“Tomorrow, when you’re sober.” He reaches over and brushes your cheek with his thumb before he gets out and walks around to open your door, “Come here.”

He pulls you out of the car and you wrap your arms around his neck. He bends down, lifting you up and your legs go around his waist.

“Where is your key?”

“Purse.” You mumble back as you keep your head rested on his shoulder. He grabs your purse, sliding the strap down your arm and fishes out your key, “Did you steal a shot glass from the bar?”

“I sure did.” You giggle and he laughs, moving closer to the door to unlock it, “Where do you want to go?”

“I need to change.” You lift your head, “I can walk.”

“Up the steps? You sure?” He looks down at you and you hold onto his arm, “With help, yes.” You laugh and pull him towards the steps.

He pushes the door closed before you get too far ahead of him and next he’s right there with you. He holds you up as you walk up, one step at a time, “Alright Bambi on ice, here we go.”

“Last one, last step.” He turns you, “Your room is that way.”

“Oh yes, right.” You laugh and sigh as you walk down the hall to the room. You look up at Zach and smile, “You’re so cute.”

He smiles and shakes his head, “Are you going to remember any of this tomorrow?”

You scoff, “Baby, I’m drunk, not blacked out. Of course I’ll remember this, because this is the night you confessed your love to me.”

“I didn’t not co- you know what.” Zach laughs, “Maybe it is.” He sits down on the bed and pulls you into his lap, “I do infact love you. I’ve loved you silently for months now.”

You stare at him, a smile spreading onto your lips as you listen to him, “Y/n, I seriously don’t know where I’d be without you. Hell, it felt like we were practically dating for a while there, I didn’t question it because honestly, I was too scared of your rejection.”

“I love you.” You nod, “I have loved you, and I still do love you.” You giggle, laying your hand on his cheek, “Seriously, you’re the funniest, cutest, hottest, guy I’ve ever seen.”

“Now you’re just flattering me.” He smirks and shakes his head, “You’re so pretty, even when you smell like straight liquor.”

“Oh shit.” You cover your mouth with your hand and lean away, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. You’re fine.” Zach pulls you back in, wrapping his arms around you, “You do need to get out of this dress, because I think that’s where the source is coming from.” He looks down, “Did you spill something on it?”

“Probably.” You stand up and walk over to your dresser as you let out a sigh, humming to yourself as you pull out new clothes.

“Are you leaving at some point?” You glance back at him and he shrugs, “Not if you don’t want me to.” You nod, “Yeah, I would really like it if you stayed.”

“Then I’ll stay.” He smiles and stands up, “Here.” He walks over and unzips your dress, “Got it?”

You nod, dropping it to the floor and throwing on your tee, “Yeah.” You change into a pair of sweats and point to the bed, “I’ll get a shower in the morning.”

You walk over, plopping down and you hold your arms out, “cuddle me please.”

He smiles and kicks off his shoes before moving to lay next to you, “I will, but you come here.” He laughs as you roll over and lay on his chest, “There you go.”

He presses a kiss to your head, “Did you have fun?”

You nod, moving to lean up on your arm, “Yeah, but I know a way we can-“

“No, baby.” Zach reaches up and cups your cheek, “Trust me when I say that I want to.. I really, really want to, but you aren’t sober enough, okay?”

You pout, “I know, I just don’t want to be awkward about it later on.” You lay your head back on his chest and Zach runs his hand over your head, “We can take our time with that, okay?”

“Okay.” You slide your hand up and over to his, holding on to it, “I really do mean it when I say that I love you.”

“I know, baby.” Zach smiles, sliding his hand up and down your back, “Just.. get some rest, okay?”

“You’re going to be here when I wake up?” You mumble, already half asleep, and Zach nods, “I’ll be wherever you need me, whenever you need me. I’m yours.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

The next morning, you lifted your head from Zach’s chest and look up at him. He was silently sleeping, his arm still around you, his other still holding onto your hand.

You smiled as you nudged him, “Hey.”

“Hmm?” He slowly opens his eyes, blinking a few times, “How are you feeling?”

You tilt your head, “I’ll let you know after my shower.”

You get up, watching as he rolls over before making your way to the bathroom. You strip down, stepping into the hot stream of water and you let out a sigh.

Showering after coming home drunk is like a major reward.

Your sober mind goes back to replaying the moments that played out from last night, and you find yourself smiling like an idiot.

The truth was finally out, and all that needed to happen was some liquid courage.

After showering, you brush your teeth and make your way back into your room to quickly change into another shirt and sweats.

You crawled back onto the bed, lying neck to Zach, “Hey.” You whisper quietly, “Are you awake?”

He nods, “Yeah, yeah. Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” You bite down on your lip and smile as your press a kiss to his cheek, “I love you.”

His eyes snap open and he pulls you in closer to him, “Say it again, I like hearing it.” He smiles and you run your hand through his hair, “I love you, Zachary Justice.”

He reaches up, pulling you in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, “I love you, y/n y/l/n.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Sorry I haven’t posted in a few days. I think I need to write some fluff, I’ve been in a rut with smut, I think I need to take a day or two break from it and just push out fluff.

I love you all so much. Thank you for choosing to read my one shots. It means so much to me! I’ll catch you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[hmshermitcraft]

joel was famous, practically everyone and their mothers knew about him. he's won emmies and oscars and grammies, and even a scootball championship. any job you could get famous by, he'd already done it.

and that there was the problem too. he was too famous for his own good. which meant everyone and their mothers got a front ticket to criticize him after paparazzi caught wind of the time he threw away a banana he only half ate at a friend's house party. turns out said banana was specially grown in a plantation deep in the himalayas, and was very very costly. how was he supposed to know that! it didn't even taste that good! and now he was being critisized for flaunting his money.

before he could even say anything his manager was telling him to go away for a bit. so he packed up his things,and went to his old pal arian griande's house. only ariana griande had retired, and was now just plain ol grian. plain old grian taht was stuck in a dead end job at the local governemnt office and running a small plantation, full of...you geussed it bananas.

god he hated bananas.

this town was full of weirdos, joel learnt after a while.

he'd thought grian was. weirdest though. until he met the postman, or more specifically etho. who obviously recognized him and was a fan but was trying to hide it. joel didn't know why this guy acted like he wasn't obsessed with him, etho followed him everywhere for goodness sake.

when he was at the convenience store, etho was there, when he was at the soup shop, etho was there, when he was in the bloody public restroom at the town hall, etho was waiting outside.

even when he was at the swamp, etho was there.

although this time he actually seemed to notice joel. he was playing with the frogs. it was kinda cute. not that it was cute because etho was the one playing with the frogs, no it was just a cute thing in general. he'd have said the same if gem played with the frogs....

anyways. etho was obviously following him. and he supposed he could let etho hang out with him if he was that desperate

no he was not adjusting his hair because he has a date with etho, grian. shut up.

lately he's begun noticing etho's becoming even more shy with him. as if that were possible.. aboiding eye contact and stuttering.

did he do something?

(oh and there's also the matter of iskall, teh paparazzi guy that snuck on his ferry and followed him here. he's a bit weird, but he's fine joel supposes. he's sweet. although etho seems to not like the extra choclate in hsi fridge every weekend very much.)

Guess he's going to have to force Etho to like him again. That's the obvious solution, right? He can't have Etho not liking him, what's he gonna do without the guy following him around all day?! Actually do his job? Ew.

Now he's the one following Etho around. Oh for goodness-

[spotaus]

Okay-

Leaving this one as short as possible so I can write the Killer stuff before you clock out for the night- but!!!

Dude, absolutely canon that Killer had the idea first! He's such a goober and would absolutely be like, 'we gotta get you working on this!' but Killer and Nightmare both know Killer's got some obvious tells once you're around him long enough, and so it's only partially helpful. (killer's the kinda guy to do 2 lies in one round or smth just to throw Night off and give him a challenge). And!! night recognnizing that Ccino is probably the best bet for this sort of thing because of the whole Lied to Nim thing!! If he can parse out Ccino's lies, he can do it to any stranger!

(And yessss, Killer getting s better glimpse at Ccino through this too! And them all guessing with eachother- (Do you think Night participated as well? it's good 'team bonding', even if Ccino probably already knows all of Night's lies and truths lol-) Killer getting excited guessing for Ccino's rounds is so so cute and adorable-

he lil helmet for Error is So cute- And the idea that Night and Dust are just out horse-riding is such a nice idea. Cuz Nightmare would adore that, and Dust would have fun too!

(Good gods I forgot about Dream- But yeah, 3rd child, he can't be doing that again! The twins were already so much! And dang, him and Killer potentially having a kid? oh Ccino would be a wreck on SO many levels. I imagine that if that ever happened he would be a mess for the first time in a long time. Not because he has to raise another kid (though that is a worry) but because. What if something happens to him and Killer? What if what happened to him happens again? What if they die and leave their babybones all alone in the big wide world? Killer never fully recovered from the injury Dream dealt to him, and Ccino couldn't fight to save his life, should he start trying to train- Just this spiral of worry that something would go horribly wrong. I get the feeling if they ever had the conversation this is something Ccino would try to bring up non-chalantly but end up cradled and tucked in Killer's arms because. Well. he buried that childish fear when he was 7. he couldn't afford to really think on it until now, and it's all just crashing down on him- Sorry that got angsty quick- but yeah. i write Ccino as being so composed, but I think it's just because he doesn't ever give himself to really think about it until a long long long time after it happens, and then he goes weak in the knees and needs like 4 days straight of recovery <3)

Night's face was always going to be a big motif in the story! (masks and all) and ur right with Reaper too! Time crunch really puts that trust to the test!!!

Borrowed time.... exactly.... Yeah he had the most caring family in the whole story, (and I LOVE stubborn denial Phantom-) and to not endanger and burden them anymore he left!

Omg omg omg the bits about his final reuniting with them?? I'm gonna sob- Phantom always looking out, hoping for his brother to come back every single storm?? hello??? I'm losing it over here?? And his little look to the sound of horses only forit to be Dust, and Phantom rushes over and sees he's real and really there and??? AND- HELLO?????? Okay. Sorry. I'm normal. BUt yeah, his family is so so so happy to see him again and there are a bunch of tears and hugs and Dust gets smothered by his mom and brother for like a solid 20 minutes. And after a bit, it's the most relaxed Nightmare has EVER seen Dust. Like. Ever. Just chilling, maybe even letting his little (big) bro carry him like old-times while he prepares some lunch, and Nightmare is sitting there in their family room with Dust's parents, lowkey feeling like an intruder. The little soft introduction (Dust is one of his big brothers) and the family greeting him warmly and even pride coming from them for Dust having, like you said, been able to trust himself around people again!! And Night is kinda pulled into the family a bit, as they wind down there's smalltalk and discussions and only when the question comes up for how they met does Dust look to Night for approval to explain. And Night gives it.

And ough. The idea that his parents would ask, 'Well now Dust, where did you find this polite young man?' And Dust looking to Nightmare, getting a go-ahead, before debating how much he wants his parents to have a heart attack. Then he explains that Night actually broke him out of prison, to which Night sputters a quick 'Wait, wait that's not-' before Dust laughs and apologizes, and then explains the whole thing. How he managed his magic, how he ended up working in the market, how that bit of time where he didn't send anything he was in jail because the royal guard caught him during a raid, then how Nightmare was the King and hired him on straight out of prison and helped him turn his life around again and find a place to call his own. How he's a Knight, and an oath to protect Nightmare always. How he lives there and won't be moving home, but he'll visit as often as he can. he's sorry for being away so long. There are mixed responses, ranging from his dad's face going pale, to his Mother gasping, to his Brother joking 'MY lazy brother?' at the more wild parts? But by the end they all agree they're just happy to see him alive and well, and thriving. Dust knows the doors are always open to him (and any of his new brothers if they get the chance). Dust (with an Okay from Night) offers them the same. Come visit the palace anytime. Please, do. More friendly faces would be nice. (Though he fears what would happen if he put Error and Phantom into a room together. or Killer, for that matter. It'd be a chaotic interaction to say the least. Jealous younger sibling moments-)

Yesyesyes you get me. You understand! He thinks his soul is SO weird!!! The first time he saw it he panicked and he hates bringing it out, even when he's on his own! And!!! You picked up what I was putting down with Reaper and Geno, haha! I think it'd take like 15 billion years (exaggeration) for him to finally trust them enough to let them see his soul or even look at theirs, to be so intimate and vulnerable, but I think it'd kill him even more to hear Geno call it beautiful. Like. beautiful, of all things? it's weird and gross and unnatural- and Geno hushes him and says again that he thinks it's beautiful, and lively, and unique, just like Dust. (And Reaper has to call a time-out for them because Dust looks like he's deciding if he's going to murder Geno or make a run for the exit, purely out of embarressment and being overwhelmed by the compliments, and Geno looks like he wants to start making out w/ Dust and that would Not end well lmao-) Okay okay-

On this same topic, when Killer's soul is just. out there? In the open? Like. All the time? Dust is... weirded out. Big time. Because Killer's soul doesn't even look like a monster's, and there's just something about it that's freaking him out (internalized bias from his own soul methinks-) but he gets used to it over time, and in combats he's ironically usually the first to cover Killer if he needs it. Because that soul is just. There. Literally a giant target- He just gets protective-

Yeah!! I think I changed the context for the meeting aorund a bit lol, my apologies- I'm thinking the reuniting with Fresh might be slightly more interesting if it was semi-planned. Like, Error knows it's someone important to meet with (Geno planned it out with Nightmare, even though he's on thin ice) but not Who (Fresh doesn't cross his mind) but Dust being there was a crucial piece because. Well. Dust is magically strong, and he looks out for both Error and Night so of course he's there!

And yeah, The parasite learning its lesson and Quick is smth I think could be cool. Because it was such a random occurance at just the right time to fix the problem. Like. It's a moment where narratively such a big burden having such a quick fix is more fun and interesting, because then it lets the characters understand how to deal with it in the future, and lament that it didn't happen way sooner.

Fresh and Error are both so so ready for this hug. Error, despite being mad at Fresh, is much more willing to forgive him after Geno explained his end of the story. That Fresh didn't know he'd be getting back early. That Fresh tried desperately to hunt him down. That he tried to fix his mistake, so Geno didn't know until long after Error was already fully missing? He knows Fresh, and having any hope that Fresh was even half as torn up as Geno was enough for him to give that second chance. (Also I'm very wishy-washy on what activates Error's touch/magic pains so I apologize, but basically it's that when he's younger it's really bad. When he's older he makes himself compression gear to wear over his bones so the touch of another monster's magic resonates less, but he doesn't always wear it, so sometimes (like here) it still tries to act up and make him 'glitch' basically!)

Ehehehe--- I love these sillies- OKAY off to write about Killer! We'll see how long it ends up being!

New Age AU (Error's Wacky Wild Plan)

Hi guys. So. Crazy Story. The crisis that stopped me from working on my banner art actually catapulted me into writing this drabble finally! (Also the wonderful @ancha-aus was also a life-saver and helped me hammer out a few plot points for this installment <3)

Currently my only context for this drabble is that Error is tiny, and ran away from home because Geno moved to Reaper's kingdom to make money to send back home, and Fresh spent too long away on his trip. Error was expelled from his magic academy and came home to an empty house, so he left! Now he's been on the road for about a month? Nightmare has been ruling for about 6-ish years now, almost 7.

(Hello @mutzelputz and @papiliovolens hi guys!!!)

     The town was bustling. 

   Error had been through a lot of towns since he’d left. Big ones, small ones, ones he was convinced weren’t even towns at all, just a few barns in a general closeness to one another who decided they needed to call themselves something besides the outskirts. Those people had been particularly hostile to his passing through.

   And, lately, they’d been really weird. People staring at him when he’d walk on the streets, or pass by shops. When they saw he had money from a different kingdom (he didn’t even realize he’d left his own, but he figured it meant he was on the right path) they’d squeeze their faces like they bit a lemon and hastily take his coin. Like it was cursed, or something. They were lucky it wasn’t cursed, honestly. He could probably figure out how to do that.

    This town, though, was filled so full with people that he imagined they couldn’t look at him weird if they wanted to. 

   People were riding horses, chatting in the streets, all sorts of stalls and merchants were peddling goods, and he was almost positive he could hear music lifting down the street over the general drone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d run into a place so busy. He’d always been told to stick to the side, out of the way, out of danger. 

   He didn’t have to listen to that anymore. Though, he did skirt the crowds. The mass of people seemed all too willing to bump shoulders or elbows with each other in the early morning sun, and the last thing he wanted was to have his magic act up in a crowd. He’d done well so far. 

   Every booth, every merchant, every passerby seemed jubilant, ebbing and flowing. It was like some sort of party. 

   That was, until, Error spotted it.

   A big building, something that Error recognized only vaguely. 

   It was an amphitheatre. 

   Geno had taken him to see one once. Or, at least, the ruin of one. It hadn’t been too far from their home, and it was pretty abandoned and lonely. Plants had crawled up its walls, stones had fallen off in chunks, animals seemed to have deemed its high windows a perfect spot to build nests. It had been breathtaking, and ancient. 

   This one? Seemed perfectly in-use. 

   The walls were all in-tact, stones, an easy to look at grey, smooth and covered in little intricate carvings. Spells, he had to imagine, in some language he didn’t know. Curtains hung over the huge arched entrances, and heavy gates seemed to be lifted, the spikes at the base loomed over the heads of every passerby. 

   He couldn’t help but marvel. Was this a restoration, or maybe it was new. Some sort of imitation. Regardless, he found that his feet carried him to one of the entrances, which stood largely empty aside from some folks who looked strikingly like guards.

   Two of them stood, long spears in-hand. They both stood stock still as Error approached, and didn’t move a muscle as he passed them. They were strange, definitely different. Not at all the town guard he was familiar with. 

   The inside of the theatre was even more impressive. Rows and rows of stands seemed to line up either side. Huge tapestry hung from the high arches past those seats, and down the runways of the bleachers, all a bright teal and dark navy blue. They seemed fancy, and much newer than the curtains which had hung in the entrance. 

   Beyond the walkway where he stood, was a set of stairs which led down a level or so, before it leveled out into an open space. Sandy, and very flat. It seemed like there were people there, too. A much smaller crowd, but still a crowd nonetheless. 

   Error was almost amazed he’d not been stopped by someone yet. Whatever was going on seemed important, and so far in his experience, people did not like him sticking his nose into important business. 

   With that in mind, he decided he’d stick to the entryway for now. He leaned his bag up against the wall and watched from a position where the sun still shadowed his form. He was often grateful for his miscolored bones. It made hiding in the dark a whole lot easier. 

   It took a bit for him to really process what he was watching in the morning light. 

   There were four people sat on a sort of raised box toward the front of a stage. A huge stage, raised up off the sand with wood slats. They had a long-table before them, and quills and ink jars in-hand. Well, three were sitting. One was standing. But the point is, they were all watching the stage very attentively. 

   On-stage there was… basically nothing. Only a simple backdrop Error had to imagine was there at all times, because it looked like it was coated in sand, even from the distance where he stood.

   A person would enter the stage, the people sat on the box would speak to them, and then there was a flare of magic. Another. Another. And then they were dismissed. 

   It wasn’t until he really bothered to think about what magic was being cast that he realized those were extremely simple spells being used. Levitate, Create Water, Mimicry. Or Flame, Gust, Light. All just three easy spells, and then they were off-stage. That was taught magic. It gave him memories of his entrance exam to his school. He’d been way overqualified to get in, Geno taught him after all…

   But, no, this didn’t feel the same. There were plenty of people who seemed to stumble at spells they didn’t recognize, or who couldn’t muster a simple breeze. Then others who were very old and obviously skilled. Obviously they found the three spells to be child’s play. Like Error would. This was no entrance exam, so what-

   “Hey, pipsqueak, what are you doing there in the dark?” A voice startled him, and it took all of his willpower to avoid jumping away from its origin. 

   Error twisted rapidly, just in time to avoid the thrust of an elbow in his direction. 

   There was a monster there. Three, actually. Two lizards, both bright green and tropical, and one who looked more like a dragon. The green one closer to him must have spoken, because he laughed at Error’s flinch. 

   “Why are you bothering me?” Error shot back haughtily. 

   The lizard seemed to grin at the response.  

   “Oh, so we’ve got a feisty little small fry here? Thinks he’s scoping out the competition?” The dragonish one hissed, voice deep. 

   The other green one tittered a giggle, “So cute! I can’t believe the King really decided to let just anyone try out for Royal Mage.” 

   Oh…

   The lizard before him seemed to take this silence as a weakness, and reached out quicker than Error could react. A flick to the middle of his forehead. 

   Error winced and pulled away, back and into the arena. He grit his teeth and clutched his skull, where at the same moment the lizard jumped back and shook their hand in the air a bit. His magic had reacted poorly again, and while it was better than it used to be, it still stung like 5 wasps touching down and stinging the same point all at once. 

   “Little freak.” Was all the monster hissed, before he fled. His two friends moving on behind him in confusion. Approaching the line to the stage. 

   Error stood there in the sun for a moment, rubbing at his forehead until the pain was more of a numb static. 

   If anything, he appreciated the little run-in with those wanna-bes. Now he knew exactly what this was, and why it had felt so familiar to him. 

   The Mage Trials. 

   Geno had to go through them, and he’s been very thorough about his every single detail while doing it. Even though he was the best mage Error had ever known, he’d still stressed and wrote page after page of plans and spells and had placed them into a folder that felt thicker than an encyclopedia. Geno had always been the only one of them who bothered studying. Fresh couldn’t go to school anymore, and Error… Well, Error didn’t need to. 

   Thinking about it, Geno had been very quiet about it, but Error had looked into his folder a few times. Just out of curiosity. It’d been split into three rounds, something Geno had said was standardized. The first was a test of someone’s basic magic skills, the second were more complex spells which the mage has practice in, and the third, the one that had given Geno the most grief, was the personal spell round. In the last one, there were no restrictions to what someone could do, so long as they had done the work themselves, and that it mostly used magic. 

   If he was right, and he usually was, then this was the first round. Eliminating those with nothing but a hope and a prayer in their pocket before they got embarrassed before the one looking for the Mage in the first place. In this case, whoever this kingdom’s king even was. 

   In just a few moments, Error had decided. 

   This was how he’d prove himself. 

   The line was already starting to get longer, and he didn’t want to be here until nightfall in a queue. He dusted off his scarf, his shoes, his bag, and set off into the bright sun to secure his place in this contest. No prep. No warning. Just with his raw skill and what he’d learned so far. Nothing could possibly go wrong. 

.

   Finally. 

   Error felt like it had been hours in the warm sun before he was finally up next. 

   He’d been watching, of course. Watching as the people before him were passed or failed. It was just as he’d expected, and he couldn’t help but be a bit giddy as the two green lizard who’d bothered him earlier both failed. Though their dragonish friend had passed, it was still enough of a victory for him.

   Along with that, he noticed that the three people sat were all in robes of nobles. Something the wealthy and lofty would think to wear in a blazing hot arena all day. The one standing, though, was wearing all black. A hood was over his head, but Error thought he might be some sort of cat-monster. Very stone faced, very still. The only time Error had seen him move was seemingly to veto whatever choice the other three were making. He thought it was interesting. 

   That didn’t matter, though. 

   Based on what he’d seen, these people wouldn’t have any qualms with his magic. He was much better than half the people who’d already been passed, and knew he could keep him calm up on the stage. It’d be just like his entrance exam. 

   He watched as the monster who’d gone before him, a skeleton who was twice his height and twice as animal-ish, bowed gratefully to the people on the boxes, the evaluators, and exited. She’d passed fairly easily, Error thought. Though, her focus seemed elsewhere based on how shaky the hold on her last flame had been. 

   “Next!” 

   The call was shrill, and Error had heard it over a hundred times already today, but this time it bounced in his ears as he lifted himself up the steps and strode onstage. 

   If he’d thought about it, he would’ve tried to find a place to stache his bag, but it was too late for that, and frankly he didn’t trust it not to get stolen once it was out of his sight. Not with how busy the city seemed. 

   When he was stood in the center of the stage, he looked out across the way to the evaluators. They seemed closer up here than they did when he was on the ground. Interesting. 

   “First spell,” The person on the far left called, though Error could tell now that it was a voice projection spell. So they didn’t strain their vocal chords, “ Levitate.”

   That was simple. One of the first spells he’d been taught as a kid. 

   His eyes skimmed briefly, there had been a few props on stage that he only noticed once he was closer that were meant to be used with this sort of spell, but Error wasn’t for that. Instead, he muttered the words under his breath, outstretched a hand, and felt his magic reach out around him. Beyond the stage. 

   There… There was a barrier of some sorts, pushing back against his magic, between himself and the evaluators. He furrowed his brow and urged his magic forward. He didn’t have to break through it. He just. Had to- His magic felt like it was looping and wriggling like a worm through the dirt, but when it broke through on the other end, it felt so much more clear. He could feel a potent magic there, something raw and wet, like the air before a storm. 

   That didn’t matter, though. None of it did, because he was on a mission. His magic finally found its target, the stacks of ink bottles which the middle evaluator had just before their parchment. The magic latched on, and Error finally allowed himself a grin as he tugged his hand upwards. They floated calmly into the air, three of them, and did a quick spinning motion, before settling back down just where he’d found them.

   He didn’t catch the looks on the threes faces, but he had to imagine they were priceless. He was more focused on letting the spell dissipate and preparing for the next. 

   It took a moment, before, “Second Spell,” They said, “Create Water.” 

   Another easy one. 

   Error held his hand out again, though this time his palm faced the sky rather than the ground. At the mutter of his words, he could feel the water manifesting. Tiny droplets leaking from his fingers and into the air above his open palm, where he let it gather into a nice, easy sphere. 

   It hovered, and for this one he could see the nods from the three evaluators. The fourth, the cat monster, didn’t move an inch. A good sign. 

   Error, after a breath, moved the orb of water and simply set it on the stage floor. If he had to release it, he didn’t exactly want to get his clothes wet. That orb tended to shoot outwards when he released it, and the water would go everywhere. 

   “Third spell,” They must’ve been contented with his simply setting down the water, for they continued, “Flame.”

   Ah, one of his favorites. He was never very good at it, of course, but it was certainly very fun. If nothing else it’d be a taste of his raw power.

   He rolled up his hanging sleeves, quickly using strands of string to wrap them in place, before he picked back up the water orb in one hand. With the other, he faced his palm toward the side of it, and spoke the words for the flame spell. 

   The heat gathered in his wrist, and all at once shot out of his palm, like a cannon blast. The heat was intense, and Error laughed quietly to himself in pure elation as the fire did exactly what he was hoping. All at once, his glasses fogged, and a burst of steam blew past his face, off to the exiting side of the stage. He’d evaporated his orb, no longer needing to risk someone seeing him fumble with it and soak himself. 

   He let the fire die after a few second, and quickly grabbed the hem of his scarf to wipe down his glasses from the fog left behind on their surface. 

   The moment the red rims were back on the bridge of his nose, the voice spoke up again. 

   “Name?”

   Error cleared his throat, before calling back his name in response. Just the first one, the last one didn’t matter anymore. 

   There was another few breaths of quiet, before, 

   “Age?”

   Error hadn’t heard them ask anyone else for their age, but he figured they’d noticed. How strong and talented he was at such a young age. 

  He puffed up his chest when he announced, “Twelve!” to the arena. 

   There were a few muffled murmurs from the line, but Error was too busy grinning across the way at the evaluators as they seemed to talk amongst themselves. 

   He was ready to hear the word that would mark him to continue. The next part was tomorrow, after this round was concluded and the king arrived. He’d heard about it in the line while he was waiting. 

   One of the evaluators lifted their gaze back to him. Opened their mouth.

   “Disqualified.”

   That.

   Huh?

   Error must’ve visibly glitched at the response, because one of the evaluators seemed to flinch. Ever so slightly. 

   “How come?!” Error called back, reservations immediately fleeing his mind.

   How could they disqualify him? He hadn’t heard them do that to literally anyone else so far today. 

   The evaluator on the far right spoke up, “Too young. Now please move off the-”

   Error might’ve let his mouth speak before his mind, if he hadn’t seen the way the mysterious cat monster seemed to slink forward. A simple tap to the evaluator’s side and they stopped mid-sentence, attention drawing to the person. 

   He waited with balled fists. Hoping, against it all, that this person was using his mighty veto powers to get him his passing review. 

   “The Knight wishes to speak to you further.” They said, when the person, the Knight, took a step back. “Exit the stage.” 

   Mm. 

   This was his chance. This was his moment. He was being allowed to move on, he was sure of it. It had to be. 

   He practically scrambled off the stage and down the steps, and found that the Knight had closed the distance very quickly. He gestured silently for Error to follow him off to the side of the arena, seemingly outside of the voice spell’s range, as the noise of magic and calling for the next viewer seemed all muffled and contained. 

   Something Error noticed about the guy, now that he was right beside him walking along, was also that he wasn’t a cat monster. No, he had some sort of mask shaped like a cat. Black spots painted on black fur, with piercing white eyelights hidden in the darkness cast by his black hood. A cloth mask covered the lower half of his face, so Error would’ve had no idea what kind of monster he was, if he hadn’t left his hands uncovered. They were grey and grimy, but they were most certainly bones. 

   The other thing he noticed, was the magic. That damp, airy magic was no-doubt from this guy. It practically enveloped the both of them until they were stood in the shade of the wall separating bleachers from arena floor. 

   “You said you’re twelve?” He finally asked, shifting on his feet to look at Error. 

   The last thing he noticed, which only happened once he was able to look past the aura, was that. Well. He was a bit taller than this guy. Not by much, but there was certainly something stark about having to look a bit downwards to meet his eyelights. 

   “Yes, I am.” He claimed proudly, still convinced this was to be his ride to the top.

   The knight seemed to skim him with his eyes. Surely taking in Error’s clothes, his bag, his glasses, the weird bones. Though, it didn’t feel pervasive. 

   “Impressively strong for a kid,” He praised loosely, “And probably talented in spells if the nerds were any indication.” 

   His voice was quiet and raspy, but Error had no problem listening to it. This strong and very cool guy who was called a ‘knight’ was praising him. This was much better than getting yelled at by his professors. Much. 

   “Does that mean I passed?” He asked impatiently. 

   He needed this. He needed this. 

   The guy’s eyelights lingered on his face a bit, and it was then that Error finally noticed how virtually unreadable this guy was. Impossibly quiet, posture unmoving, all facial features shrouded in shadow and covered by masks?

   “I’m not sure what kingdom you’re from, but you’ve got to understand that the folks up there didn’t say no because you’re bad. They said no because the king made a new decree. “No soul under the age of 16 shall be put to work under the crown.” They’ve gotta take it seriously, just like everyone else has to follow the new rules about their own shops and businesses.” He said evenly, eyelights never leaving Error’s face. “You’re a couple years too early is all.” 

   It felt like he’d been shoved into a ditch, and he could already feel his right hand starting to tremble with the beginnings of a glitch. He was furious! How could they possibly say no to him because of some stupid rule about his age? 

   “No!” He exclaimed, trying to bite back the distortion on his voice, “I’m not going to just walk away. If I could just move on to the next round, they’d see I’m different! I’m not some weak little baby!” 

   He clenched his fists, driving his jittering one forcefully into his pocket. 

   The knight didn’t even flinch at his declaration. 

   “They’ve already seen that.” He said easily. “Listen to me. Error, right?” 

   Error hesitantly nodded. 

   “Error, ‘m sure that if my Lord saw you in action, he too would agree that you are very strong and resourceful.” The knight said, and Error hated that it sounded earnest. “But, he set that law into place for very good reason. If by any means those folks back there were to let you through, to pass you, and you made it before the king next round? They’d have committed treason, and I’d have their souls on the end of my bone in three seconds flat.” 

   His voice was hard and serious, and Error held strong as a loud crack echoed out beside the knight. A bone raised from the ground, sharp and jagged on the end, absolutely radiating magic. 

   “Do you really want their blood on your conscience, just so that you get sent away by the King anyways?” The knight offered. 

   Error hunched his shoulders a bit, and he felt his static worsen as he let his eyes linger on the bone. Yes. He muttered inside his head. He wanted to scream it at the man before him. Tell him that this was his one golden chance to prove himself. 

   But to who? He would ask, and Error wouldn’t be able to say it. It’d be a wasted sentiment and wasted time and wasted lives just for his temper tantrum. 

   “...No.” He bit out meekly. 

   He stood there, feeling a familiar shame creep up his spine. The knight made no move to leave, though he did let his bone disappear. The ground looked untouched from where it had split out of. Just more sand. Sand that was getting into Error’s bones. That he’d have to clean out later. Swinging in his hammock, lonely and moping. 

   “Heh,” The chuckle was almost inaudible, and Error was almost ready to let his distress turn back into rage, but, “Better kid than I was.” The Knight mused into the open air.

   He seemed to shift his stance again, and Error took a half step back. 

   “You’ve got your life ahead of you, kid. Don’t let this keep you down. Take the road less traveled by or whatever.” He said then, waving a hand loosely before him. 

   Error stared at him, trying to even his breath, before he had an idea. 

   “The other two rounds will be here, right?” He asked, voice still harshly stuttering and screeching. The Knight seemed unbothered.

   “Yeah. Planning on sticking around to watch?” The knight questioned, though it felt more like a warning. 

   Error nodded in agreement without hesitation. “If these geezers can get the job, I need to see what kind of tricks they have up their sleeves.” He agreed. 

   That earned another little chuckle, before the knight looked back to the stage. 

   Up in the center was a new mage, a human who seemed to be making a pretty wild wind that was whipping the sand around, bothering the people in line behind him. Error heard the knight make a scoffing noise, before turning back towards the stage.

   “Go hang around somewhere else for a while, why don’t you? I have to go make sure those nerds don’t pass that guy.” 

   Error didn’t even get to say a farewell before the Knight was off. 

   It seemed like every stride he teleported a bit further, building speed until he stopped cleanly up on the pedestal. Just in time for the sandstorm to die down. 

   Error didn’t want to walk away from this, he didn’t, but staying would only waste his time. It only took a few more seconds, to watch the knight nudge the evaluator and hear the muffled call of ‘fail’ ring out across the arena before he was turning tail and moving out of the sandy paradise, back into the bustle of the living city. 

.

.

.

   It was impossible to miss it. The sounds of celebration as the monarch entered the town. 

   Error could see the royal carriage from his perch, an old temple tower that had at some point lost its bell. It seemed untouched, birds nests and cobwebs, so he’d set up a hammock and a little makeshift shelter inside using his strings just before night fell. 

   He’d snatched some food from the town as dusk was setting in, and he’d been comfortably whittling away the dark hours, working hard on his plan. 

   With the King officially in town, that meant the second round would be starting up shortly, taking the numbers of who would be in the third round down by hundreds. He hoped the king was stingy about it. He hoped that dragonish monster would stumble on his spell and turn someone into a frog. 

   The thought humored him, and he cackled quietly to himself from his makeshift room. 

   The sun was high again, and he was only a part of the way through. His spells required a lot of his magic to be woven into them, and while it was much much faster than what he’d heard was the usual, it was still difficult to make. 

   Weaving the blue strings from his sockets, to his fingers, around his fingertips, and into the shapes he needed. It was monotonous, and boring by all accounts, but with every strand there was a new flow of power. A new pump of adrenaline into Error’s soul as he recognized his creation becoming more potent. Intent, intent, intent, every loop and knot was filled to the brim with it. His frustration sat at the core. Much more volatile and destructive than his usual intent, but it would serve him well if he wanted this plan to go well. Around it was his determination. The strings woven in with a sense of stubbornness which refused to let go, like a snake swallowing its prey whole. This would compress the first layer into a proper state. Let it coil and coil and coil until it burst. It’d be big, and loud, and send out that message he so desperately needed to be heard by the king. 

   Skipping the second round would probably hurt him in the long run, but… That knight had said he’d have to kill those people if he showed his face in round two. So, he’d just appear in round three instead, and make up for missing the second one. A final act, of sorts. 

   He’d have to be at this all day to make the time crunch. The orb was hardly as big as his palm, not nearly big enough. Though, he had wasted time making the shelter and finding food. He’d just have to skip a couple meals to make up for it. He didn’t really need to eat that much anyways, he’d known that for years. He just tried to make an effort when he smelled something tasty. 

   He knew he could manage. 

   It was late in the night when Error finally started on the outer layers. Those which would be filled with his patience, so that the potent insides would not be sensed as he moved with it among the many magic users. 

   The town had begun to line the streets with torches and party as the stars arrived. No doubt celebrating those who would be at the third and final round tomorrow. The ones who would be competing to become the new Royal Mage. 

   To Error? Every single moment down there was dedicated to him. They just didn’t know it yet. 

.

.

.

   The morning came, and Error only had a few more layers. 

   By the time the sun was almost in the center of the sky above, he had finished it, and carefully tucked it into his backpack. He unraveled the strings and carefully wrapped them, shaping them, changing them into a thin net with long ends. This was shoved into his jacket sleeve, the ends clutched tight in his hand. 

   It took him hardly any time at all to get to the arena, and he was early. 

   Good.

   He settled himself up in the stands, as close to the stage as he could get. Many people seemed to be staying outside the arena, sticking to the streets, but there was still enough of a crowd in the bleachers that Error had to be careful as he worked his way along the edges. He needed to be closer. Closer…

   There. 

   He stood at the railing behind the stage. 

   From here, he could see the line to the left, and he could see the people who had finished lingering on the other side. None of them spoke to each other, only standing about, icily, waiting for the rest to finish so they’d know which of them was chosen, and who was not. Error had to imagine that these folks were just as lame and boring as the seniors from his old academy. No fun at all. 

   He waited, so, so patiently, for the next few people. The last few. 

   Though he couldn’t see the spells themselves, he could certainly feel the pressure coming off of them. The control that they’d need to balance it. How much it might’ve drained their energy to do it just once. He was attuned to that sort of thing, he had to be. 

   His assessment was that all of these last few folks weren’t bad, but they were no match for Error’s raw talent. 

   Each spell cast seemed to tick away at Error’s patience, until it finally happened. The last mage went on-stage. It seemed there had been 15 of them. 

   He’d have to make 16, then. 

   It felt like a blur as he jumped the rails and let his strings carry him across the open space, much to the shock of the few who had been watching the competitors from around him. The blue lines snatched at the wooden supports of the stage, and he swung right over top, landing a bit messily in the center of the stage.

   He didn’t have time to look at everything. All he knew was the crowd was much larger than last time, that there was a shout of ‘Hey!’’ from somewhere to his left, and that the box across from the stage now held only three people. Monsters. One Error recognized, the knight in shadows who’d spoken to him. The other two he didn’t know, but he had to assume the one in the middle, tall and imposing, and dark, with an eyelight the same colors as the tapestries, was the King he was looking to impress. That was all he needed to know. 

   “M’lord, my name is Error!” He called out across the sand, and in one motion he shrugged the bag off his shoulders and used his strings to tug the orb out of its canvas body. “I want to prove that I’m more capable than any of the adults who just went before me! I could be your mage!” He would be the mage. 

   The orb sat cradled in Error’s hand for only the briefest moment, before it was inside the little net he’d made. He swung it in circles. Again. Again. Again. 

   He had to be fast. He had to do this quick.

   Error spent one last moment, extending his reach through his strings, muttering words and igniting an intangible spark. 

   For a brief moment, he watched as the King seemed to ease forward. A hand now raised, seemingly calling off his knights, who had been almost in motion. 

   He released the orb directly upwards, momentum carrying it up. 

   Up.

   Up.

   Into the blue sky. Practically into the sun. 

   Error watched it rise above him. 

   Only. 

   “Shit.” 

   His calculations must’ve been off. He must’ve added a layer too many, or maybe he released it a swing too soon. But he could tell that it wouldn’t clear the top of the arena. 

   Maybe if he had a few more seconds he could’ve used strings to boost it. He could’ve sent a magic gust to lift it further. 

   Not the case.

   He watched as the orb detonated, just like it was supposed to. 

   The wave moved horizontally through the air, and swept across the air above the arena so quickly that it sucked the sand from the top layer and threw it against the tall walls. Error’s footing slipped, and he stumbled to his knees on the stage as the wind whipped and tugged the heavy curtains into the air current as well. 

   It was an almost invisible force, Error had to imagine anyone without a solid grasp of magic would entirely miss it as it spread out. 

  He winced as it finally reached the edges of the arena, where he had just barely managed to fall short of clearing. 

   As the magic passed over the stone and mortar, he saw as it fell. Not in chunks, but crumbled like dust into fine particles. The upper half of every arch at the top of the grand amphitheatre, turned pitch black, then wasted away. 

   He hadn’t meant for it to come in contact with anything. It wasn’t supposed to do anything but harmlessly wave over everyone’s heads. As a show of his strength. That was all.

   Error could only think back to when this had happened before. When he’d accidentally exploded Geno’s favorite mug while metering the strength of his strings. When he’d broken the wheel of a carriage passing through the woods with a wayward slingshot blast. When he’d broken all ten of the large windows in the lecture hall of the academy when he failed to complete a spell the way it was written. When he’d done it too well.

   As he rose to his feet, he half expected the nagging voice of his older brother to be there, chastising him for not being more careful, before taking him home and making him dinner. 

   It wasn’t that, though. 

   He watched out across the sand. The king had his head tilted only slightly, looking up at Error’s lofty mistake. At the clean cut where stone now met unbothered air. His knight, the one in all black, was leaned ever so slightly towards him. They must’ve been speaking. Or, at least, the knight was. 

   About Error, he had no doubt. 

   He stayed in place, watching, swaying a bit with the residual force of his own spell lingering in his fingertips. Every instinct which told him to run and to hide were smothered and stamped out by the ligering fact that he had nowhere to go. Without his brothers, there was no one to help him. He knew it. 

   Even in front of this crowd. These mages. This King and his knights. He couldn’t bring himself to move offstage. Some part of him, deep down, childishly wanted the King to announce that he was impressed. To parade him offstage and let him experience what Geno had. Let him know why Geno left. 

   The King’s single eyelight swam back over to look at Error in the silence. 

   Error felt like the world had stopped. 

   It hadn’t.

   There was a clattering of armor and rustling of fabric, suddenly loud in his ears, and he had no time to react as everything came rushing in all at once. 

   Hands. Heavy, gloved hands. Two sets, two hands each wrapped one of his upper arms, and immediately lifted him off the ground. Into the air. 

   Pain flooded into his bones from his soul, like twin lightning strikes, trying to singe the bone and the magic in its core. The pressure wasn’t much, his mind knew that, but his body usually didn’t listen to him. He tried desperately to hold it in. The rampant part of his magic that had been hurting him since he could remember. That made it hard to touch anyone. To shake hands. To hug his brothers. 

   “Let go!” He pleaded, though he wasn’t sure if his voice made any sense. Fresh always told him they couldn’t tell what he was saying when his voice got too bad.

   More pain. He kicked his legs at the open air, and tried to muster control over his strings, just for a moment, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t focus. 

   And all at once it stopped. 

   Error’s feet were on the ground again, though that promptly became his knees again as he swayed and wavered in the sudden aftermath of his active magic dying down. Receding back into his soul. Because it didn’t need to ‘protect’ him anymore.

   He spotted then, as his vision returned to something aside from the gloves or the sky, that the King was no longer in his throne. In fact, there was a heavy, encompassing, magical weight behind him now. Somewhere very, very close-by.

   He took a deep breath, grounding himself. 

   “We are taking a recess.” Announced a booming voice. Very nearby. It was deep, and felt almost the same as the projection spell from two days prior. Then, more quietly, “You will leave the boy to me. Go ensure no one was injured, then manage the crowd. I’ll make my choice tomorrow at sunrise.” 

   The second bit felt quieter, an edge to the tone that Error didn’t quite like. Considering he must be the boy in question. 

   It was a moment, a few muddled ‘Yes, my king’ s, before Error found a pair of boots stepping before him. His head swam as he looked upwards. 

   The King, he figured that had to be him, was dark. Very dark. Like a living, dripping, shadow. Magic seemed to be all he was made of, an aura radiating from him. Dripping off his back into long slimy worms, twitching as they sat near the ground. He wore a fancy cape, too. One with huge gold clasps on his shoulders, one was shaped like the moon. 

   Error looked to his face last. In hindsight, something that could’ve been very, very bad. He was met with a dripping face. Skeletal. The place where his right socket should’ve sat was covered in that dark substance. The other hollow, with that bright cyan orb staring right back at him. 

   “Can you stand?” His voice came easily, and Error braced himself. 

   Could he?

   He had to, he didn’t want to be touched again. 

   Error took another breath, and managed to rise silently to his feet. 

   “Good,” the King said once he was standing, “Follow me.”

   It was an order he didn’t dare refuse. 

.

.

.

   Error found himself in an odd position. 

   He’d been given time to sit and recover from his magic’s outlash, and now he was sat in a room beneath the bleachers of the arena alongside the King and that knight he’d met before. The other one was guarding the door, he thought. 

   It’d been silent for a while, and it was almost expected when the silence was finally broken. 

   “You said your name is Error, correct?” The King asked, and Error gave a nod of yes. He forced himself to meet the King’s gaze.

   “Dust says that you’re only 12, and our people disqualified you in the first round. Is that right?” 

   Error nodded again. 

   “And Dust even explained to you why you were disqualified?” 

   Another nod. It seemed he’d at least made an impression on the knight. Dust. 

   The King tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, eyelight holding Error’s tightly. 

   “Then, I’ll ask, what brought you to think this was a good choice? To try and become Royal Mage above any cost it might bring?” The king asked, and Error was surprised to find it was a shockingly gentle tone. “Your home, your family, your life. You are so young, why put it all on the line like this?” 

   Oh. 

   It was almost funny. Was this whole thing because the king was some sort of charitycase? So disillusioned by his perfect life that he couldn’t even think of the hardships any random kid could go through? He almost grinned at that, barely keeping his mouth from twitching in a mix of frustration and humor.

   “I wanted to prove myself,” He muttered, “And besides, becoming the Royal Mage would be great.” 

   He waited, waited for the King to inhale, to say something, before, 

   “I’m an orphan.” He spat, finally. “Family abandoned me, house is left behind, expelled from school. I don’t want to keep wandering.” 

   It was basically the truth. This was his big break. His one last chance before he became a hated little vagabond. Maybe even a criminal. Maybe he’d have to go on the run for the rest of his life, live as a nomad. Join a caravan. Those people got stopped a lot though, kingdoms didn’t like them. He’d probably explode some city’s bakery by mistake and get put in jail for-

   “Wait!” Error suddenly exclaimed, breaking free of his thoughts, “Am I in trouble? Am I going to jail??” He asked then. 

   His worries slammed to a grinding halt and he stared wide-eyed at the two before him. Geno had always told him not to go making his big stuff near town, because if the guard caught him he wouldn’t be able to bail him out. He’d end up in jail. Of course, it’d never happened back then because he was always fast enough. Always smart enough to get out of dodge when he broke something or made poor decisions. Here? Here he hadn’t run when he had the chance. 

   The King stared at him, his one eyelight nearly mirroring Error’s in surprise at the question. 

   “I mean,” he started, “You’re young. If I wont let you work for me, I wouldn’t dare put you in prison either.” The King stated, “Though, you did do quite a bit of damage to the theatre.” 

   Error watched him break eye contact finally and look over his shoulder to the Knight stood there. He’d been silently watching Error too. 

   When he had no insight, The king seemed to heave a sigh, and the shadowy extra limbs which draped around him twitched. 

   “You’re sure you have no family? No home?” the King asked him again, and Error nodded.

   The king muttered something under his breath, and shot the Knight another look. The knight shrugged. 

   “I… Will not employ you. Though, I do see talent in you, Error.” the King said carefully, a bit slower in his words than he had been up until now. Almost… unsure. “I will, however, extend to you the title so that you may conduct…” He waved a hand before himself, as though searching for a word, “ You may conduct independent research. If you accept, of course.”

   “You would be free to resend your acceptance at any moment, no strings attached, and may take any work you complete along with you, and any pay you receive would be given to you after your 16th birthday, if you stay that long.” He added, “I’ll have to rewrite the contract, but-”

   “I accept!” 

   Error couldn’t help himself. He was so excited he could puke. The last thing he’d expected was to pull this off. This shitshow of a scheme actually got him the job? He could scream. He could jump up and down for joy. He didn’t, he sat eagerly and tense in his seat instead, but he could’ve. 

   The King seemed to hesitate, for a few breaths, before relaxing. He stood, and offered a hand out slowly to Error. 

   Error stood too, grinning. He could manage this one. He could do it. 

   It was brief, but he grasped the King’s hand and shook it firmly.

   “Dust, will you help Error locate his belongings, and escort him to wherever he is staying tonight? I’ll send Cross to swap with you a bit later. We’ll reconvene in the morning just before sunrise.” 

[smol-soop-spoon]

i literally look so so so pretty and for what? Not a single woman is looking at me longingly from across the room, fiddling with her pen because this is a boring meeting, and i look up at her and my heart skips a beat because oh, you just caught me stealing glances, and we start talking, and she makes me a little bit insane and I fall in love with every piece of you, and you for every piece of me, and we've been friends for a year now, and one day you're walking me back home and the sun is setting on this flamboyant backdrop of vivid pinks and oranges characteristic to Autumn, and I turn around, I want to say something, but I see you and the only think I can think of is how much I want to kiss you, and I die a little bit inside. But I think you do too, because you're just looking at me in that way, the way you've always had really, and we kiss, and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever done.

But nah all I get are catcalls and creepy dudes hitting on me fml

[deus-ex-mona]

favourite stupid relationship dynamic: idiots who would immediately protect and defend the other but never themself