#featuring library support if youre like me and like keeping it open

[prod-ddeonu]

UNDER THE COVER | s.jy

MDNI! MDNI! MDNI!

pairing: librarian!Jake x fem!reader

cw/tw: librarian!Jake, badboy!Jake, smut, fluff, mentions of assault and sa, drugs, sex in a public building, pet names, praise, face fucking, masturbation, kissing, mentions of murder (one line)

synopsis: Love was never your goal, preferring to keep your nose in a book while sitting in an isolated corner of your favorite library. But then you met Jake Sim: the quiet librarian who wore sweaters and button downs, the man who treated every book like a treasure, the man that you felt was perfect for you. You knew better than to judge a book by its cover, but who would have known your quiet library crush was the exact opposite of what you'd expected?

featuring: jay and sunghoon (iconic bffs!)

wc: ~6.9k

PART 2

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“Finals are kicking my ass, man,” Sunghoon stretched his arms above his head as he dramatically groaned.

Jay nodded, his notes every shade of the rainbow from his color coded highlighting method of studying. “You can say that again,” he capped the red highlighter and put it behind his ear.

“Finals are kicking my ass, man,” Sunghoon repeated, laughing when Jay threw the yellow highlighter at him.

The two turned to you, your head falling as your eyes began to shut. “Y/N!” Jay shouted. Sunghoon pressed his finger against his mouth and shushed him. “Piss off, Hoon. We're in a soundproofed study room,” Jay sneered.

Your head shot up, hands flying into the table to catch yourself. “The proper function is forty-four,” you mumbled as your eyes opened. “Oh, sorry. I had a dream I had already taken the final,” you rubbed your eye with your wrist.

Sunghoon put his hand over your forehead. “Y/N, if you don't sleep enough, your score’s gonna be a forty-four,” he said, his tone laced with worry.

You smiled, pinching the bridge of your nose. Sunghoon ran his hand over the ponytail you held your hair in, bringing the hair over his head. “Jay, you think I could work long hair?”

“I don't even think you can work basic algebraic equations,” he scoffed. Sunghoon frowned, sitting back upright.

He looked at his notes before groaning in agony. “I'm done for the night, guys. It's, like, seven at night and I'm tired,” he whined.

“Yeah, I think I'm gonna head home, too. You coming, Y/N?” Jay asked as the two stood, packing their notes and pencils.

You shook your head. “No, I'm gonna get a little bit of reading therapy in,” you smiled, thinking of your favorite character.

The two boys looked at each other with a raised brow. Sunghoon wiggled his at Jay, the other returning the action to create some sort of impromptu language. “Are you sure it's therapeutic reading?” Jay asked tenderly.

“Or is it ‘I wanna fuck that hot librarian’?” Sunghoon finished the point, sliding onto the table in front of you.

Your ears turned red, the mental image Sunghoon painted making you sweat. The two burst into laughter, clapping loudly and pointing at you. “She totally does! Y/N has a crush!” Jay shouted.

You slapped your hand over his mouth. “It's soundproof in here, not a solitary confinement cell! They can definitely hear your walrus laughter!”

Jay faked shock, slapping his hand against his chest and holding the table for support.

Ignoring him, Sunghoon leaned his elbows against the table next to you. “So, whatcha likin’ about this dude?”

You squeaked. “I- um-”

Jay returned to his position on the other side of you, his hand on your shoulder. “Is he loud, badass, smokes a lot of weed and parties all night, muscle tees and ripped jeans, maybe a print-”

“Alright, alright!” You shouted. “Remind me to put some soap in your mouth, Jay,” you wagged your finger in his face. He snapped his jaw at you, following your finger. “He's the exact opposite, actually. He's quiet, really kind, he’s not into the party scene, he doesn't wear anything too showy-”

“So he's just like you?” Sunghoon interrupted, pulling the edge of his sweater onto his shoulder.

You nodded, a cheesy grin coming over your lips. “And how do you know all this?” Jay raised his brow. “I doubt you've hung out with him.”

“I can just tell,” you sighed dreamily. You kicked your feet underneath you in excitement.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes. Because you read minds.”

Jay clicked his tongue at you, crossing his arms. “Y/N, did nobody ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover?” He asked. “What if you get your hopes up, and then you find out that he's some rager that breaks your heart?”

You shook your head. “I don't think so, he seems pretty genuine from the way he looks.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes playfully again, “Delusion is one of your few flaws, Y/N. Your other one is reading for fun.”

You sat with your knees against your chest in a small corner of the library. The seating arrangement in that corner was a long, wooden bench that wrapped around the corner of the room. You liked to sit against the corner, your back to the wall and feet facing the shelves in front of you.

In the book you were reading, the main character had gone out with her boss in order to escape her manipulative boyfriend and catch him cheating. Her boss was icy, tall, and young. You'd barely managed to catch it, but it seemed that he was younger than her. The main character was a happy woman who let her naïvety get the best of her, which her boss had helped her get past.

You were in the scene where her boss confesses to her, but you weren't sure where the story was going. He told her he was falling in love with her, which she reciprocated, but he was holding her so close, and the word “heat” and “member” kept appearing in sentences.

You saw a shadow loom over you, shading your book from the light. A large hand rested on top of the book, tilting it back. “Are you enjoying the book so far?” A deep voice with a thick accent asked.

You nodded, not looking up. “It's really good, I'm just a little confused as to what's happening. I don't know who this member is and why they're so hot, but it doesn't make sense for her to be kissing them and not the main guy,” you rambled.

The person let out a deep chuckle. “Cute,” he said under his breath. “This is my favorite part, actually. If you don't know what all of that means, though, maybe you should skip that scene. It's not really important to the plot, anyways,” he continued.

The dim light above you bounced off of his rings, his long finger tapping on the spine of the book lightly in a fidgeting manner.

“I want to know what it means,” you sighed. “Can you explain it to me?”

When the person didn't respond, you looked upwards. Your breath caught in your throat as you squeaked.

The librarian you'd been harboring a secret crush on stood above you, his mouth slightly agape and his cheeks pink. His eyes grew wider with shock the longer you looked into them.

You turned back to the book, your eyes not really reading any words. “I can figure it out myself, sorry,” you whispered.

The man scratched the nape of his neck, a shy laugh leaving his lips. “No, it's okay, that scene is just…”

“Just what? Confusing?”

“Just not something you'd want a stranger to explain.”

“If you love the book, though, wouldn't you be good at explaining it?” You asked, curiosity bubbling up inside you.

He took the book from your hands, folding the corner of the page you were on and closing it. “Let me go check this out for you. I'll tell you at the counter, then you can read the rest at home, ‘kay?”

You nodded, willing to do anything he suggested. He walked you to his counter, scanning the book. “That scene you were reading is probably one of the most well-written sex scenes a reader could ask for,” he casually commented, smirking when you covered your mouth. “You can Google the words you don't know, but tell me if you still enjoyed the book when you return it!”

He placed the book in your bag, waving to you and leaning against the counter.

You sound around, mouth open to speak. “Name’s Jake, by the way,” he smiled handsomely at you, nodding his head up once. “I was gonna introduce myself to you properly, but you kinda jumped the gun on that one, miss sex book girl.”

You blushed, looking away in embarrassment. “You don't have to call me that,” you barely whispered.

“Yeah?” He poked his tongue at his lip with a teasing smile. “What can I call you, then?”

“Y/N,” you looked at the floor before spinning around and walking to the door.

Jake waved behind you, a smile still prevalent on his face. “Have a safe night, Y/N,” he called out behind you. “Hope you enjoy your book!”

Oh, you enjoyed that book alright. With Jake’s words looming in your head, and a trusty Google search (turned out, member did not mean another character), you finished the book with a foggy mind and a whole lot of nervous swallows.

Jay and Sunghoon sat across from you at your local cafe, your bag on the table and notes strewn about. “Hoon, I think you should change majors,” Jay sighed, his palm against his forehead.

Sunghoon chewed his straw nervously while the other reviewed his notes and practice exam. “Why? I thought I was good with my pre-med stuff,” he grabbed the paper from Jay’s hands.

“‘What do you call a row of stitches holding together the edges of an incision?’ was the question, Hoon.”

He looked it over. “I don't see what I did wrong.”

You peeked your head up from your notes, reading the question. “You wrote ‘satire,’” Jay deadpanned. Sunghoon cursed under his breath and erased the answer, writing suture in its place.

“Could've sworn I put suture for that,” Sunghoon mumbled. You pat his back reassuringly, a small frown on his face. “I think I'm just burning out, I've been studying all of this for so long. Jay, gimme your card, I'm gonna go buy us a round of espresso.”

Jay swatted Sunghoon’s reaching arm away. “Dude, no! Use your card, I'm not rich,” he scoffed.

“Oh my gosh, Jay, please,” you whined. “I'm so tired, I barely slept last night.”

Jay’s brow flew to the top of his forehead, the corner of his lip lifting. “Is it because of a certain librarian you stayed late to see?” He lightly punched your shoulder jokingly.

You held your shoulder and cried out in pain dramatically. “C’mon, Jay, you owe her now,” Sunghoon waved his fingers at Jay to make a grabbing motion. Jay sighed, rolling his eyes and giving the card to him. “First round’s on Jay!”

Sunghoon skittered off to the counter to order the drinks, leaving Jay to interrogate you further.

He scooted his chair closer to yours, his arms folded over his chest. “So,” he started, “what's the reason you were up all night?”

You squeaked nervously. He laughed, placing his hand over yours softly. “I was reading a book Jake said was good,” you almost whispered.

Jay shot backwards into his seat, letting out a loud gasp of shock and earning concerned stares from the rest of the customers. You shushed him, to no avail. He spun in his chair, calling out to his friend. “Hoon! Hoon!”

Sunghoon turned to face him with a scowl. “What?” He mouthed.

“She got the hot librarian’s name!” He shouted, not caring whose morning he disturbed.

Sunghoon ran out of line, sliding back into the chair across from you and resting his hand against his chin. “Soooo,” Sunghoon dragged out, “what's his naaaame?”

You shrunk into your seat. “It’s, um-”

“It's Jake!” Jay shouted, leaning over the table.

Sunghoon and Jay brought their hands together, ooh-ing in a high pitched tone as they wiggle their fingers. “Anything else happen? Did he hold the door open for you?” Sunghoon swooned at you.

You shyly laughed. “No, he just told me to read this book,” you blushed, pulling it out of your bag. “He told me what some of it meant, and it really helped!”

Jay flipped the book open to the folded corner, reading a paragraph quickly. He closed the book, furrowed his brows, reopened the book, re-read the paragraph, and turned to you, pointing at the pages as he let his mouth hang open. “He told you what this meant?”

You nodded, blushing. “I was a little embarrassed, but he was super nice about it,” you crossed your ankles and swayed slowly.

Jay shut the book and slid it into your bag, Sunghoon reaching in and pulling it out as he turned.

“Y/N, my dearest, sweetest, bestest friend,” he placed his hand on your shoulder with a smile. Suddenly, his grip turned hard, squeezing into your collarbone. “HE IS FLIRTING WITH YOU!” He seethed.

You swatted his hand away. “Then what do– ow, that actually hurts still– I do?”

Jay peacefully made a tent with his hands against the table. He blew his bangs out of his face, the brunette pieces flying upwards. “You go back there, and you ask him out,” Jay smirked evilly. “And then, you come back and relay everything to us.”

You nodded, saluting and grunting in comprehension.

Sunghoon gasped loudly, causing you and Jay to whip your heads to him.

He slammed the book against the table, scattering Jay’s highlighters and your pencils. “THIS IS A SEX BOOK?!” He shouted.

You blushed while Jay put his hand to his mouth in order to stifle his laughter. Sunghoon slowly turned to you, disgust apparent on his face. “You're such a nerd you read porn?”

“Hey, man. She reads it for the plot,” Jay snickered.

After your embarrassing exchange with your friends, you went back to the library to return the book (and stare at Jake). You held the book in front of you, sad to part with it. Jake had opened a door to a new world that you'd never heard of: the world of erotic romance books.

You blushed at the thought of the genre being his favorite. Swinging the door open, you took in the scent of paper, dust, and the slight hint of lavender you always caught when you walked in. Your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.

Jake scanned a book at the counter for a woman, his long, black hair being accessorized by his usual pair of round, metal-rimmed glasses.

You watched silently from in front of the door as he performed such a melancholy task in such a charming way. The sleeves of his blue pullover came to the edges of his palm, his white turtleneck beneath covering his skin. You watched his pouty lips curve into your favorite smile, a slight wink being thrown to the older woman.

The woman slipped the book into her bag, giggling and walking towards the door. Jake’s eyes met your own, a happy wave being sent your way.

You felt yourself begin to melt at the sight.

You waved back, walking towards where he was standing. You placed the book into the counter as he smiled at you. He laughed lightly. “Guess it wasn't your cup of tea, seeing as you're bringing it back the next morning?”

You shook your head, “The opposite, actually. I finished it all last night, I just couldn't put it down!” You smiled.

Jake raised a brow, putting his elbow onto the countertop and resting his chin in his palm. “Yeah?” He asked with a thick accent. “What made it so enjoyable?”

This is the flirting Jay was talking about, you thought to yourself.

You bit the tip of your tongue, looking around the room in thought. What could you say to add to the flirting? You hadn't been in a serious relationship in years, you had little to no current experience.

“I guess I really liked the main character's chemistry with her boss,” you smiled at him, “and how he had a different side to his character that he only showed her.”

Jake nodded, leaning back and rocking onto the heels of his feet. He slid the book across the counter with a low whistle escaping his lips. “You're the first person I've met that tried to find something romantic in this book.”

You mentally facepalmed yourself. “Is that not what I was supposed to do? The writing was really good, I just-”

“Hey, hey,” he laughed. “Don't worry your pretty self over that, I think it's cool that you didn't just admire the smut aspect of the book,” he scanned the barcode on the back cover and placed the book onto a cart.

“I did enjoy that part a little, it just felt awkward to read,” you lied. You actually re-read that section of the book three times after finishing the book.

Jake’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip to wet it with a smile. He walked around the counter, pushing his book cart in the direction of the young adult section of the library.

You turned to walk to your usual corner of the library, ready to surrender this golden opportunity to your awkwardness. You took a step forward, spinning back around quickly as Jake coughed.

You made eye contact as his mouth opened to speak. “Can I have your number?” You blurted out.

Jake’s mouth shut with squinted eyes. Rejection.

“Can you read my mind or something?” He asked.

You shot him a confused look, a toothy grin splayed across his face. “I was-” He cleared his throat nervously, “I was just thinking about how I wanted to ask you to hang out after I close up, sorry if it came out weird.”

You felt clouds lift your feet, making them take even steps before landing in front of him with your phone out. He chuckled as he put his number into your phone. “Doesn't this place close late, though?” You asked.

He nodded. “It closes at nine, but if I'm being honest, fun never really happens until after dark.”

You laughed, thinking he was joking. He was not.

He shrugged, continuing to push the cart. “Just text me your address, I'll pick you up. I'll make sure it's a date that you'll never forget,” he smiled.

Your heart soared. It raced. It pounded. More importantly, it stopped. Time stopped. “Date?” You squeaked out.

He laughed, his ears turning red. “Yeah, I figured it should be a date. Don't wanna waste a good time with a pretty girl like you, y'know?” He scratched the back of his neck.

You nodded eagerly. “It's a date! What do I wear?”

“Just some comfortable clothes, you don't have to do much to impress me. I'll be wearing what I usually do, anyways,” he placed a book onto the shelf, examining the next book.

You walked to the cart, grabbing a book from the other side. “I know it's not very romantic, but can I help you put away the books? It might help you close faster,” you smiled.

He pulled the cuffs of his pull-over off of his hands. “I find it very romantic that you want to do the most boring part of my job with me, actually,” he joked.

That same lavender scent you would get hints of came flooding your senses as the two of you worked closely. You closed your eyes, taking a long breath. Jake smelled like lavender, and god, it made your knees weak.

Jay and Sunghoon, although strongly against the date, showed up to your place at seven sharp to help you get ready for it. “I mean, what kind of guy asks a kind and unsuspecting girl to go out after nine?” Sunghoon asked as he curled your hair.

He looked up into the mirror, eyes locking on yours. “A sex offender,” He released your hair from the contraption, waving the wand in the air as he spoke.

Jay groaned as he laid different outfit combinations across your bed. “For the tenth time, Sunghoon, he wouldn't be able to work at a public library if he was a registered sex offender!” Jay tapped his toes in thought before throwing a red shirt of yours onto the growing pile of clothes on your floor.

“Maybe he's not a sex offender yet,” Sunghoon replied, “but our little Y/N could end up being the body they find in the ditch.”

You sighed as Jay struggled to not throw a hard object at his friend. Sunghoon and Jay had been going at it since they arrived, Sunghoon erring more on the “worried mother” end of the argument.

“Sunghoon, stop worrying so much. He's super cute and sweet, he probably just wants to watch a movie or something,” you smiled.

Sunghoon clicked his tongue. “Let's recall what he said. ‘Wear something comfortable’, because tight clothes cause you to bleed out slower. ‘A date you'll never forget’, because you'll be dead by eleven.”

“‘I just want to have sex with you and then send you home at four in the morning,’” Jay commented. “You make it sound like she's going out with Michael Myers. Don't forget, Hoon, she already agreed to share her location with us in the groupchat.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, running his fingers through your curls. “So we'll know what corner of the road her body ends up on, but what about her head?”

“Oh, God, you're going off the deep end,” you pressed your hand to your forehead.

You stood from the chair, doing a small twirl for the two. You had already done your makeup before the two arrived, but you were a lost cause with fashion and hair.

Jay clapped, his lower lip jutting out in an impressed expression. “Wow, Hoon. Maybe you should drop out of college and become a hairdresser,” he commented, earning a threatening jab with the hot iron from Sunghoon.

You unplugged the appliance, taking it from his hands and carefully placing it down. Jay held a shirt and skirt to your body, nodding for the other man to look at the combination.

Sunghoon patted the man on his back, a smile on his face. “See, if I had to send my only daughter off to possibly go missing, this is the outfit I think she'd want to go in.”

You walked out of your door at exactly a quarter past nine, Jake’s text message reminding you of a drunk message from Jay.

Hey um he uh, um out sigh in the blocker period sore we eve this cumster you we're, um using speech to text period

You figured it translated roughly to, “Hey, I'm here, I'm outside in the black car. Sorry if this comes to you weird, I'm using text to speech.” You just couldn't figure out where cumster could've come from.

You giggled as you sat in the car. Your purse clinked loudly with the pepper spray, pocket knife, seatbelt cutter, lockpick, whistle, and body reflectors Sunghoon wouldn't let you leave without.

You closed the door, turning to Jake. You audibly screamed when you saw the man in the front seat. He jumped, looking into the backseat and out of every window. “Shit, Y/N, what's wrong?!” He shouted, equally as scared as you.

You looked at him in disbelief. “Jake? Is that really you?”

The man who was sitting next to you was wearing a black wife-beater and baggy jeans with large tears at the knees, a small book pendant hanging off a gold chain. His body, now uncovered by layers of clothing, was covered by layers of ink. He had a paw print on his inner arm, the name Layla written inside of it, along with many music tattoos and smaller symbols across his arms and chest.

You looked down, noting that it seemed even his legs had art on them. His eyes followed yours, a small gasp leaving his mouth. “Oh, yeah. Guess I forgot to mention all that,” he smiled. “They're everywhere, but they all mean something.”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide. You may have painted him as a modest man, but you'd be lying if you said the Jake in front of you didn't make you feel butterflies. “They're pretty,” you commented, reading the tattoo on the side of his neck.

“Love is a great beautifier.”

Jake self-consciously ran his hand over it. “It's from Little Women,” Jake smiled softly.

“I love that book,” you commented, continuing to admire his look. His hair had fallen messily over his forehead, his glasses seeming to have disappeared.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Me too, actually. It's what got me into reading,” he looked forward as he put his seatbelt back on. “Look, if you find that I look too weird like this, I can put a jacket on or something-”

“No! I like it, actually. You look… good,” you blushed as you put your seatbelt on.

Jake reached his hand under your chin, lifting your head to look at him. “Look me in my eyes and say it again,” the corner of his lip lifted. “I want to see you say it, don't hide your face from me.”

You mumbled, “You look good.”

“I'll take it,” he smiled fully, throwing the car into drive and pulling into the road. “Just know, I don't let pretty girls hold their tongue around me.”

You looked out the window in an effort to hide your nervousness. Jake turned his radio on, playing a band you didn't know.

He started humming along to the song as it got closer to the chorus. He had a beautiful voice, which only added to your nervousness.

“Where are we going?” You asked, noticing a familiarity in the direction he was driving in.

He tested his elbow against his center console as he drove with one hand. “I figured I could take you to the library after hours, y'know? We'd be alone but it wouldn't be like you didn't know the place. I can show you my favorite spot, too.”

You shot a glance in his direction. “Jake, isn't it closed?”

“Yeah, and?”

“As in, we can't be there?”

“Yes we can,” he smiled.

You rolled your eyes. “If you're trying to break into a building, I think we should call this off.”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he laughed, his accent shining through, “it's not breaking in.”

“Entering with a key doesn't count.”

“It does when you own the place,” Jake pulled up to a stop light, wiggling his eyebrows at you before laughing loudly. Your jaw was to the floor, an unreadable expression in your eyes. “I've never made it obvious that I owned it, because it was given to me by my grandmother when she retired, but I've owned it since I moved here. My cousin opens the place on weekdays while I go to college, but I close every night and spend the whole weekend there.”

“You'd have to live there to pull that off,” you rolled your eyes.

“I do,” he responded. “My place is right next to it.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Of course you're handsome, funny, good at singing, and you own a business.”

You felt his hand land on your leg, his fingers tapping rhythmically to the music. You turned to him, your eyes trailing up his arm. “You can continue,” he said with a shit-eating grin.

You lightly hit his arm, pointing to the road. “Light's green,” you turned to hide your blush.

Jake walked you into the familiar building, a small smile on his face as he pulled a projector from the office room. “Come and sit down, pretty girl,” he plugged a handful of cords into the device and turned it on.

You walked past the nonfiction shelves to see pillows forming small seats on the floor, a basket of movie snacks and drinks in the middle. Jake had thrown some last minute fairy lights into the mix, wrapping them around the seating area and putting some candles on the ground. “Jake, this looks amazing.”

He sat on a pillow before laughing and motioning to the other. You ran over, sitting down and immediately putting on a movie.

You didn't watch a single moment of the movie. Although Jake seemed immersed, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. Your eyes took in the slight shine against his skin from the movie, the light in his eyes looking like stars. You didn't miss the way he chewed his tongue when he got focused, or when his hair was blown awry by the air conditioner.

Your brain took a turn for the worse as a more romantic scene in the movie arrived. Your eyes raked over his exposed skin, feeling like a Victorian man who had just been introduced to short sleeves.

You looked at his tattoos, really looked at them, and saw countless music notes with small letters in them, a guitar, small pictures or animals, and a lot of book references. You never expected Jake to have been fully inked up, but you also never expected to find that as a huge turn-on.

You squeezed your thighs together to hide the fact that a simple doodle in perfectly smooth skin had put you in such a predicament. Jake turned to you, wrapping his arm around you and pointing to the screen. “See that actor?”

“Yeah, what about him?” You asked.

Jake let his hand fall onto your lap, turning to you. “Even he can tell you're not paying attention,” he pushed your hair behind your ear. “Wanna tell me what you like so much that you've been staring at me the whole time?”

You gawked. You geeked. You'd fumbled.

Jake slid his hand onto your back, and in a moment he was above you. “Tell me, sweetheart, what's so attractive that it's got you squeezing those pretty thighs so tight?”

You gulped, your thoughts having gone anywhere but where they should. He tapped his finger against your lip, a sinful smile on his face. “Your tattoos,” you whispered.

Jake leaned back, messily pushing his hair out of his face and laughing darkly. “You like my tattoos so much that you're getting wet over them?” He asked, looking down at you.

You nodded. “I like how cool you look, wanna see the rest.”

“You want to see the rest of the ones on me, sweetheart?” He asked in that thick Aussie accent you couldn't get enough of.

With a small squeak, you nodded again, feeling smaller than usual in his gaze. He looked at you the same way you'd assume a predator stared at its prey in its final moments, but you felt a strange sense of safety with him.

He slowly leaned in, his arms caging you in as he pressed his lips to yours. He held your hip with his large hand, his fingers gripping your ass while his palm held you down. He slid his thigh over your core, pressing into where you needed him most.

Your lips parted, letting out a moan. Jake swallowed it whole, sliding his tongue against your own slowly and sucking on your bottom lip. The two of you built a slow rhythm, his thigh grinding into you as you arched your back like clockwork.

His hand never left your hip, holding you in place to keep you victim to his torturously slow lips and thrusts. He loved every noise that left your mouth. Jake pulled away from you, his eyes taking in your wet, puffy lips. The two of you were breathlessly panting to catch your breaths.

His lips parted in thought. “Didn't think you'd be such a good kisser,” he mused. “Almost like you were made for my lips.”

You giggled, pushing him off you as he went to press more kisses to your lips. “Jake, I want to know more about you,” you whined.

“For one, I'm a really good kisser,” he wiggled his eyebrows jokingly as he settled back into his seat. His arms came behind him for support. He seemed to not worry about covering his obvious boner, leaning back and looking at the ceiling.

You hit his arm. “I know that already,” you fussed. “But, like, what are some hobbies of yours?”

He jut his bottom lip out in thought. “I play guitar,” he shrugged, “and there's nothing I love more than getting high and reading a good book.”

You blinked slowly, his eyes coming to yours with a smile. “What does being high even have to do with reading?”

“Makes the experience more realistic. Feels like you're there, you start feeling what the character feels and all,” he sighed. “I like to read romance books, though.”

You bit the back of your lip. “Does that really work?”

“Wanna try it?"

Jake had lit a joint for you, showing you how to hold it and even going so far as to hold it for you while he played with your hair.

The world started to move slower, certain colors waving in your vision. “Do you feel it?” Jake asked, running his hands through your hair. You nodded, looking around the room. “The rest’ll hit soon, just know I'm right here if you need me.”

He put his arm around your shoulders as he took his own hits, resting his head against your own.

He put the joint into a small ashtray, standing with you and grabbing one of the many books he'd brought into the soundproofed study room off a table.

The two of you read through it, laughing when one of you wouldn't be done with the page as fast as the other. Suddenly, the book began to describe a racier scene, one with hands all over the main character's body and kisses being pressed over her.

Jake watched you closely, taking note of how you squirmed in your seat every time the girl felt a new sensation. “What's wrong, Y/N?” Jake asked in a low voice, leaning into you. “You seem… worked up.”

You swallowed hard. “N-No! I’m just cold,” you lied. Jake clicked his tongue, closing the book and holding you by your thigh.

He used his hand to pull you closer, his lips connecting to your own. “Sure, sweetheart. I believe you,” he lied with a smirk. He glanced at your lips again before wrapping his fingers around your throat, pulling you in to continue his rough kiss.

A groan slipped from Jake's own throat, his body reacting before he could. He pulled away, his hand sliding up your closed thighs. “Not,” he continued, connecting your lips again. You opened your legs slightly, giving Jake the ability to use his hand and pry them open.

He ran his fingers up and down your clothed slit, just barely giving you the friction you craved. You felt how hard he was through his jeans, his crotch subtly grinding against your leg. He continued his assault against your lips, never once stopping for air.

You hit his chest, moaning into his mouth as he pulled away. “Jake, stop teasing me.”

“Oh, I'd never tease you, darling,” he responded with a mischievous grin. “Just wanted you to feel how good you're gonna feel with me.”

Jake took his hand off your skirt and brought it into your other hand. He brought his lips to your neck, biting down and tracing the marks with his tongue. You moaned out his name, making him groan lowly into your neck.

“I can't wait anymore,” he said as he stepped back and began unbuckling his belt. “I need to feel your throat around me.”

You stood, walking to be in front of him and pushing his back to the table. His breath caught in his throat as you sank to your knees in front of him. He hurriedly finished unbuckling his belt, reaching his hands to his waistband to pull down the rest of his clothing as you held his hand to stop him.

“Wait, Jake, are you sure about this? We're both high and in a study room in the library, what if the cameras pick up the noise?”

Jake leaned against the table behind him, his hands holding onto the edge of it at his sides. He looked at you with such an intense heat behind his gaze, you could feel the lust of it gathering into your underwear.

He slid a hand into your hair, pulling you to him and smashing his lips to yours. He brought his thigh outwards to catch your body between your legs. Your eyes shut at the feeling, the messy kiss fogging your brain.

“These rooms are sound-proof for two reasons. One, for studying or reading. And two, so I can fuck your throat as hard as I want.”

He released your hair, making you fall back to your knees. He pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees, giving you a grand view of his cock.

It was veiny, thick, and the tip was such an angry red that the precum leaking from it almost screamed for you to lick it all up. Without warning, you grabbed it and took it between your lips.

Jake threw his head back, a moan bouncing off the walls of the room. You heard him suck a breath in through his teeth as you sucked on the tip. You let your tongue glide over his slit, collecting his precum and swallowing it.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're so good at this,” he moaned. Your wetness was dripping down your legs, you felt it. You moaned around him as you took more of him in with hollowed cheeks.

He held the sides of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Remember what I said, sweetheart. Wanna fuck your face, if that's okay.”

You hummed on his dick, giving him the go-ahead. He slowly began to thrust into your mouth, not pushing in all the way. When you began to bob your head further, Jake took it as his sign to go deeper.

He added more force and speed to his thrusts until you were taking him whole, each thrust hitting the bottom of your throat and making you gag around him. Your saliva was dripping down his balls and onto his legs as you used one hand to rub your own clit.

You were so close, but you wanted to wait until his cum was pouring down your throat to finish. “Such a good girl for me, so sweet for taking my dick down her throat,” Jake hummed, his eyes never leaving the sight. It all felt so good.

Jake’s legs began to shake as he let out more moans. Jake was not afraid to be loud, nor was he afraid to speak his mind. He constantly praised you between his little moans.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “‘M so close.”

You moaned against him again, his hips jolting forward. “Gonna make me cum down your throat like that, bet you want that don't you?”

His tip slammed into the back of your throat, his thrusts growing erratic. With each thrust he gave to the back of your throat, you circled your clit faster. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he groaned.

His hips stuttered to a halt, warm liquid spilling into your stomach. “Taking it so, so good,” he sighed, his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. “Atta girl, my girl, so beautiful with my cock down her throat.”

You moaned as you felt your orgasm take over you, moans spilling around Jake’s cock and slightly overstimulating him. He thrusted one more time into you, a lazy smile on his face. He pulled out of you, watching bits of spit and cum dribble down your chin.

You looked like an absolute wreck, your hair messy and your mascara running with spit down your chin. Jake loved it. You looked stunning to him.

“Y/N, that was amazing. Thank you,” he pulled you up to sit you in a chair. He ran out of the room to get water for you, as he'd told you when he walked out.

Your eyes darted around the room. You opened your phone to see four missed calls from both Sunghoon and Jay.

You dialed Jay’s phone number, a groggy smile on your face. “Hey, what's up?”

“Y/N, are you still with Jake?”

“Yes, why?” You asked, stretching in the chair.

He sighed over the phone. “We've been waiting outside the library for half an hour, get the fuck in the car.”

“Jay, I'm capable of bringing myself home-”

“Y/N. Get out of there, now,” Jay said, his tone cold. “I don't know how to say this, but-”

“Jay, you can't control me. I'm an adult,” you rolled your eyes, pacing around the room. “If you're so uncomfortable with me dating someone-”

Jay interrupted you, saying a sentence you'd never think to hear about anyone, much less the guy you sucked off less than three minutes ago. His words had you quickly grabbing your belongings and running out of the building, hoping Jake didn't see you go.

“He’s wanted for murder, Y/N.”

notes: MURDER?? oh boy.. didn't see that one coming ;) expect the next part to be... Eventful. Originally, Jake was supposed to be a camboy, but I figured that possible criminal Jake would be better LMFAO. I reccomend listening to Arctic monkeys or chase Atlantic when you read this series.

tags: @heesitation @vizstars

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, and thank you for reading! stick around for part 2!!

[samwinchesterswifu]

You Shook Me All Night Long (Dean Winchester x Reader) Smut

Bunker seasons era

Song Inspo: "You Shook Me All Night Long" by ACDC

Warnings: literally the whole thing is just smut lmfao

MINORS DNI

A/N: ive been having TERRIBLE writers block. I dunno how happy i am with this one, so PLEASE let me know if this good smutty shit yall, thnxs for your endless support <3

Word Count: 1103

Summary: He surprises her with coming home early...but that's not the only thing he surprises her with.

The boys were away on a week long hunt. Since injuring her knee a few months ago during a Ghoul hunt, she’s decided to take a break from hunting to allow her body full time to heal. This allowed her a lot of time to make the Bunker a proper home for them. She would spend her weekends keep housing if the boys were still gone, then during the week she would spend time in the library cataloging or helping with research. Then, whenever Dean came home, she was hands on with focus. Her and Dean had been a thing for a little while. The stress of the job eventually breaking down the tough looking hunter asking her to be his life partner. She had happily agreed. There was no real label on their relationship, just two people who understood each other more than any other human.

It was a Sunday morning. Dean had called her the night before, informing her that they would probably be home Sunday night, or possibly into Monday. She was excited to see Dean. Since taking her leave, Dean coming home from these longer hunts added an extra excitement to their relationship. But knowing he won’t be home until as late as tomorrow, she treated it like any other Sunday.

Dressed in little shorts, a cute tank top that showed off her features she began her cleaning routine. Starting in the war room, making her way through the kitchen and then finally to the library. Music blasted throughout the speaker system of the bunker. Charlie had helped set her up with a Bluetooth connection to the old raggedy speakers one weekend while the boys were gone and they had a girls date. It was her little incentive to stay motivated.

One of her favorite 80’s song began on a new rotation of shuffle and she began swagging her hips to the beat of the song while spraying cleaner on the library tables, bending over to get all the way across. She was so distracted by the beat that she didn’t even hear the bunker door open. Dean had arrived home early as a surprise. Dancing around the tables, doing small spins or dance moves, Dean just admired her from a distance. He never got to see her like this. He dropped his bag down and with a thud she turned around to see him. Completely flustered that she was caught. The two of them just starred, Dean was practically undressing her with his eye making her squirm under his gaze.

Neither of them said anything as Dean strode towards her. Grabbing onto her hips, and pulling her tight to his chest. Breathing in the cheap cologne Dean always loved to wear, practically getting drunk off his sent alone. A grin creeps on Dean’s face and he sways the two to the beat. Eyes were locked on one another as he gave her a little spin before bringing her back into sway. A deep blush forms across her cheeks. She hardly ever saw Dean this way, usually this was after a good hunt and no one got hurt. Towards the end of the song, Dean crashes his lips to hers. This was a new hunger she hasn’t experienced. Sure, they’ve had make-up sex, ‘I thought I lost you back there’ sex, and so forth. But this was different, it was ravenous. Dean’s kisses grew heavier, teeth clashing as he drove his hands all over her curves.

At this point, her hips were pinned against one of the library tables. Dean broke away from her lips, kissing along her cheek and down towards the nape of her neck. Nibbling away at different spots along her collar bone. Small mewls and moans of pleasure leave her lips, earning a tighter grip of his hands on her. Dean leans down for a brief moment, hoisting her up by her legs to sit her on the table. He gently pushes her shoulders back on the hardwood, and continues to trail kisses down her clothed body. As he gets closer to her stomach, Dean shifts to be on his knees. Which was surprising. He places tiny kisses across her hips as he uses his hands to push open her legs. Dean yanks off her shorts underwear in a swift movement. Both pieces coming off together. This man was starving for her.

“Fuck,” Dean whispers looking at her pussy. His eyes drift back up to hers as he licked his lips.

In a split second, Dean was diving in. Lapping away at her folds like it was the most delectable fruit Dean has ever tasted in his time on earth. An orgasm was ripping through her body with moments. She tugs on his hair as he continues to coach her through the orgasm. But Dean wasn’t done, he was still at it. Moans echoed through the library and she felt so unholy. This is where men of generations came to learn about the monsters of her world, and yet her she was, bare ass on the same table as her man ate her out alive.

Another orgasm was on the horizon, and like the quick man that Dean Winchester is, two of his broad fingers are inserted into her folds. A shocked and rattled moan escapes her at the shock of surprise and pleasure. His fingers are going in and out like a jack rabbit. Dean occasionally curling them to reach her g-spot.

“Come on baby,” Dean whispers from his spot. This man was fucking edging her on.

Another finger inserted.

“If you want my cock, I’ll need another one from you,” his voice was demanding. And she was prepared to meet those demands.

His attack on her just sped up more, and more. While simultaneously sucking on her clit. But finally, she was close.

“Fuck, Dean,” she gasps. Tugging again at his strands.

“Don’t..stop,” breathing was labored and felt like she was about to see stars. She was there…she was right there…

Then there was nothing. The area Dean was just in was cold. Looking up in utter confusion, she sees her man pulled away. His chin shining with her cum and a shit eating grin plaster on his damn face.

She stutters.

“Y-you, you cant do that, please Dean.” The unpleasant feeling of an orgasm left unfinished pulsated through her.

“I’m gunna need you to last all day sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet,” He says as he gets up from his position.

Giving her a wink, he simply walks away leaving her baffled.

What the hell am I getting myself into.

[delicatebarness]

winters widow | chapter ii

Summary: A small gesture of concern from Lord James suggests a possible change in the dynamic.

Warning: Arranged Marriage. Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 1390

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A/N: I was going to post this earlier but everyone asked for Cry Baby so you're getting both. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Winter’s Widow: @lanabuckybarnes | @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

The following days were as cold and unforgiving as the walls of Winter’s Reach. Every morning, you’d wake early, hoping to catch a slight glimpse of Bucky and perhaps try to engage in conversation. He remained elusive, seen only from a distance. His stern demeanor and closed-off nature seemed impenetrable as he trained in the yard or discussed with his men. 

Soughting ways to familiarize yourself with your new home, you were determined not to be deterred. The Reach staff had initially been distant, yet they gradually warmed to your kind and gentle nature. Taking it upon yourself to learn the names of the servants, you wanted to understand the daily workings of the House. And, bring a touch of warmth to the cold stone. 

Wandering through the dimly lit corridors, one evening, you found yourself drawn to the library. Towering shelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls in the vast room, a fire crackled in the hearth which cast warm glows over the worn furniture. You marveled at the wealth of knowledge contained within these walls as your fingers ran along the spines of the books.

Lost in thought, you didn’t hear the heavy door open behind you. It wasn’t until a shadow fell across the floor, startling you, that you turned. Bucky stood in the doorway, his expression was hard, annoyance etched in his features. 

“My Lord–” 

“What are you doing in here?” his sharp tone cut you off as he demanded.

You took a step back, his hostility wasn’t surprising. “I was admiring the collection. It’s a beautiful room.” 

His gaze trailed down to your hands as a particular old book lays in them. “This isn’t a tour you're on,” he snapped. “You don’t belong here, meddling with things you don’t understand.” 

“I’m sorry,” your voice was soft as you tried to keep it steady. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought–”

“You thought wrong,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “This place is filled with history you know nothing about. It is not your place.” 

You swallowed hard, trying not to look up at his looming figure. “I’m just trying to understand, connect with you in some way.” 

Bucky scoffed, tension evident in his posture. “This isn’t some fairy tale, Lady Romanoff. You’re here because of duty, nothing more, no happily ever after.” 

His words cut deep, a dagger twisting in the pit of your stomach. Yet, you refused to back down. “Fairy tales are all I know, Lord James. I know this isn’t one of them. Yet, we’re both here, and we have to make the best of it. I am willing to try, even if you are not.” 

For a moment, you could have sworn his expression softened as you finally met his gaze. A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. But his walls built back up just as quickly. “Do what you want,” he said curtly. “But don’t expect any warmth from me.”

The chill that settled in your bones as he turned and left, leaving you standing alone in the library, made the fire suddenly feel insufficient. Sighing, you gently placed the book back on the shelf. 

You resolved to continue your efforts to make Winter’s Reach feel like home. Focus on exploring the grounds once more, familiarizing yourself with lands that now surround you, covered in frost and snow. 

Walking through the courtyard, you saw Bucky training with his men. His movements, precise and powerful, halted you. They reflected his years of discipline and experience. You admired him, and his skill. 

Granting him space, you turned your attention to the stables, where your horse was being kept along with the Reach’s. 

The stable master greeted you warmly. “Lady Romanoff, it’s a pleasure to see you here,” he said with a genuine smile weathering his face. 

“Thank you,” you replied, returning his smile. “I thought I might get to see Honeybreeze, it could do her good to ride around the Reach.” 

The man nodded, gesturing toward your beautiful, chestnut mere. “Here she is, gentle and sure-footed, perfect for riding.” 

As you patted Honeybreeze’s neck, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. Another unreadable expression greeted you as you turned, coming face to face with Bucky. He paused when he saw your smaller frame, irritation etched his face in an instant. 

“Taking up riding now, are we?” he asked, his tone clipped. 

You met his gaze, refusing to let his hostility deter you. “I’ve always rode, my lord. I thought it would be a good way for us both,” you gestured toward your horse, stroking your hand down her mane. “To familiarize ourselves with Winter’s Reach.” 

His eyes narrowed, however, they weren’t aimed at you. His gaze moved toward the stable master. “Make sure the lady is properly equipped for her ride,” he ordered the man before turning back to you. “The terrain can be treacherous, especially for outsiders. Be careful.” 

“I will,” you replied softly, you tried to keep your voice steady, not to show the pain his words caused. “Thank you for your concern.” 

“It’s not concern,” he scoffed, once more. The sound filled the air between you with bitterness. “Just practicality. We don’t need any unnecessary accidents.”

With that, he left you again. The stable master gave you a sympathetic look as he handed you the reins. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said quietly. “But, my lord wasn’t always like this. The war changed him.” 

You nodded, “I understand, thank you.” 

Mounting Honeybreeze, you guided her out of the stables, making your way toward the open fields surrounding Winter’s Reach. The air was crisp, and the expansive landscapes offered a sense of freedom. A brief moment of peace, away from the tension within Reach’s walls. 

Thoughts of your future husband returned to your mind as you rode. Despite his harsh exterior, you couldn’t help but wonder who the man was beneath the black and gold armor. 

Hours passed as you explored, and the cold air bit at your cheeks. Finally returning to the stables, dusk had almost settled over Winter’s Reach. Dismounting the horse, you handed her reins back to the waiting stable master. Thanking him, he nodded appreciatively and led your horse away, leaving you standing alone. 

Your mind reflected on the day's events as you made your way back toward the Reach. The hostility and bitterness from Bucky had been palpable, but you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. It was clear the way had left its mark on him, you wondered what had happened to transform him into the hardened man you were to marry. 

As you approached the entrance, you were surprised by Bucky standing there, waiting. His usual stern expression across his face. However, there was a hint of something softer in his eyes. 

“Did you enjoy your ride?” his voice gruff. 

You nodded, taken aback by his question. “I did, my lord. The land around your home is beautiful.” 

Looking away, his jaw tightened. “The Reach has its own kind of beauty,” he admitted.

“I would love to understand more of it,” you spoke softly. “And, to understand my future husband.” 

Bucky’s expression hardened again, his gaze meeting yours as a flicker of something else– perhaps vulnerability passed over his eyes. “There’s not much to understand. I’m a soldier, nothing more.” 

“I don’t believe that,” you replied gently, offering a small smile. “I think there’s more to you, more than you want to show.” 

For a second, he looked as though he might argue. Then, he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Maybe… if so, it’s buried deep.” 

You took a small step closer, daring to place your hand gently on his arm. “I’m willing to find it if you’ll let me.” 

He glanced down at your hand on his arm, another unreadable look passed through his eyes. Then, he stepped back, offering you a small nod. “Just… be careful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I will, my lord,” you promised, watching him walk away. For the first time, you felt like you had hope as you saw a glimpse of the man beneath the armor. 

Taking a deep breath, you continued on your way through The Reach, feeling a renewed sense of determination. You silently vowed to break through his defenses and uncover a heart worth loving and understanding. 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[racergirl-112]

Push Me Over - Hugh Jackman and OG Reader

Since I get into writing these fan fics based on who I'm obsessed with at that time, then my library is all over the place. Like a lot of people, I have rekindled my 10 year old crush on Hugh Jackman.

Here is a taste of my original story featuring the man, the legend, the man who makes my daddy issues ok, Hugh Jackman and my original character.

Let me know if you want more!

**********************************************************************

WARNINGS:::::::::MDNI (Future chapters) Angst; love; loss; so much smut. Fingering, unprotected pinv (wrap it up); creampie, orgasm, mention of death; age gap. Reader is in her 30s and Hugh is 55.

Synopsis:

Up and coming actress Danielle (Dani) James Levy just got the opportunity of a lifetime, a supporting role in her Uncle Shawn Levy's new film with his best friends, a little film called Deadpool and Wolverine. She has all intentions of being professional and getting her first big break, but little does she know all her plans are about to be derailed by her co-star and her uncle's friend. None other than Wolverine himself, Hugh Jackman.

Once they meet and test the limits of their chemistry, along with their 23 year age gap, more than fireworks begin to erupt.

With Hugh coming off his divorce and Dani trying to stay professional, will that keep them from their happy ending?

******************************************************************* Chapter 1: At First Glance

May 2023

There was a knock on her trailer door as Dani Levy scrolled her phone. “Come in,” she answered. The door swung open and her Uncle Shawn walked in. She set her phone down because she knew if he was here, then it was something important. After a few small parts and background acting, her Uncle Shawn had gotten her a big audition for a supporting role in the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie. Being a fan of Marvel and her Uncle, she jumped at the opportunity. 

“Dani, are you ready for your big debut?” her Uncle Shawn asked. 

“Absolutely, just really nervous. I mean Ryan is cool, but I get to work with everyone else and haven’t even met them yet.” 

“Well, that’s why I’m here. I wanted to do a little team dinner tonight to welcome everyone to filming. It’ll help introduce everyone before filming and hopefully break the ice.” 

“Wasn’t that what you do at a table read?” Dani asked. 

“Usually, yes. This project has been so locked down though, we didn’t have a chance to do one with everyone’s schedules and plus half the script would have had to have been redacted.” 

“Sorry, you know the stuff I’ve done. I haven’t had to do these types of things before. I’m just nervous,” Dani replied. 

“It’s all good kid, you know Uncle Shawn has your back. Who knows, this might open you up to new adventures and opportunities,” he said, getting up to leave. Dani followed her Uncle to the door as she watched him leave.  New adventures and opportunities. Yeah right. Boy, was she in for a big surprise. 

Later that night, Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds pulled up to the restaurant the team had rented out for the cast and crew to get to know each other. 

“Are you sure you’re still on board, man?” Ryan asked. 

“Yeah mate, I’m still committed. I wouldn’t grow my facial hair like this for nothing,” Hugh answered. 

Ryan let out a laugh. “How are things going at home?”

“Well, Deb and I went to the lawyer last week to officially finalize the divorce paperwork. It just feels weird.” Ryan put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“Look man, if you need anything, you know I’m here and so is Blake. If Shawn knows too, you know he’ll help you out too.” 

“Thanks Mate,” Hugh replied as they walked into the restaurant and to the bar. 

Dani decided to not make it look like she was one of those nepo Hollywood kids, so she decided that she would arrive separately from her uncle. She pulled on the hem of her short black long-sleeve dress she had decided to wear, feeling self-conscious in her decision. She stood at the door of the party and took a big breath before walking in. People mingled around the large room, then she spotted her Uncle at the bar next to Ryan. 

“Ah, look who finally got here,” her Uncle Shawn said. 

“I’m not late,” Dani said, looking at her watch with a panicked look. 

“What’s up kid?” Ryan asked, pulling her in for a hug.

“Hi Ryan! Kid really?,” Dani replied with a laugh. She glanced at the man standing beside Ryan. He looked familiar, but also super hot. The way his arm muscles filled out his collared shirt, to the stubble beard that peppered his jawline was making Dani feel some sort of way. 

“Ryan, you already know my niece, but Dani, I’d like you to meet Hugh Jackman or as everyone knows him, wolverine.” 

“Nice to meet you, Dani,” he said, his hand reaching out to shake hers. The smile he gave her, adding to the list of things she was finding attractive about this man. 

“Nice to meet you too, Hugh. My Uncle has told me alot about you,” she replied with a smile. 

“I hope all good things,” he replied with a smile. “Shawn, I didn’t know your niece was an actress.” 

“Well, she is and she is super talented. When we got the script finalized and talked to Ryan and Kevin about who would fit the part, I suggested Dani to audition.”

“She’s not so bad,” Ryan replied, putting his arm around her shoulder, acting like another uncle or older brother. 

“You two are embarrassing. I’m trying not to look like I got the part because I’m related to the director,” Dani replied. 

“I think you’ll be just fine,” Hugh answered, giving her a wink. Dani nodded, downing her drink before excusing herself to talk to someone else on the cast. Little did she know, she had captured the one person’s attention that had put her in a way and now he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

Insert the beginning of all the problems. 

[deliciousangelfestival]

Let Me Love You | 2 - B. Barnes

Character: college!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: On a mysterious, rainy night, Bucky witnesses a distressing encounter involving his crush.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Bucky invited you in and gestured for you to sit down. "I want to show you something," he said nervously.

You gave a slight nod, curiosity piqued.

As Bucky went to his room, his heart raced. He couldn't believe you were in his place right now.

His eyes lingered on the photo, torn about whether to show it to you. Ultimately, he shook his head, thinking you deserved better.

You watched as he approached, noticing the tremble in his hand as he held out the photo.

"Um, you need to see this," Bucky said, his voice shaky as he handed it to you.

Confused, you accepted it, but something caught your eye as you looked at the image of Bucky and the chess club celebrating their victory. Behind the group, you saw a familiar figure—Lloyd and Nicky walking together, his arm around her shoulders, their faces close.

Your heart sank as the realization hit you like a thunderbolt. You didn't realize you had dropped the photo to the ground.

Bucky quickly retrieved it, concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?" he asked, his own guilt deepening at your shocked expression.

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, laden with frustration and heartache. "Haaa..."

Bucky's expression twisted with regret, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice filled with remorse. "I just... I didn't want you to be lied to."

He had noticed Lloyd and Nicky's closeness since the gym and library were close. What Lloyd does is unacceptable while you're still his girlfriend.

The room felt suffocatingly silent, the air thick with unspoken pain. Each passing second only intensified the ache in your chest, the bitter realization settling like a stone in the pit of your stomach. How could you have been so blind?

You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling, a wave of resignation washing over you. "You didn't do anything wrong, Bucky. I should've seen it coming a long time ago."

Bucky's eyes widened in concern. "What do you mean?"

You tilted your head and looked at him, your expression heavy with sadness, causing Bucky's heart to ache.

"When Lloyd and I went back home for summer break, I met his parents," you began, the flashback starting to unfold.

You recalled visiting Lloyd's house and meeting his father, who offered some advice, "Both of you are still young. Many things to explore. Don't take anything too seriously and focus on one thing, alright?"

What his father meant was not to take the relationship seriously and not to interfere with Lloyd's football career.

Then you heard Lloyd's mother add, "Actually, Lloyd has had many offers, but because many people knew he's not single, the offers went away."

What his mother meant was clear: because you were Lloyd's girlfriend, he didn't receive many job offers.

Their words felt like blame directed at you, and since then, you had been tirelessly trying to make your relationship with Lloyd work.

But now, everything you had worked for felt shattered. You realized it was only you who had been keeping this relationship afloat.

Bucky's gaze softened with understanding, his heart breaking for the pain etched across your features. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, reaching out to offer what little comfort he could.

You wiped away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes before they had a chance to betray your pain. "I should go," you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. Glancing at your watch, you added, "It's my shift soon."

Bucky hesitated, his gaze lingering on you with a mixture of concern and regret. "Ehm..."

As you stood by the door, ready to leave, you turned to look at Bucky, offering him a small, weary smile. "By the way," you said softly, "I won't blame you, Bucky. I just... I need some time to sort my feelings out."

Bucky nodded, a sense of relief washing over him at your words. He knew you were a strong woman, capable of weathering even the toughest storms. But seeing you in pain tore at his heart, leaving him with a profound sense of helplessness.

*************

The next day, Bucky was feeling better. As he drove to the university with Steve and Sam like usual, Steve piped up from the backseat, "Did you hear the news?"

Sam leaned forward, intrigued. "Oh, is it true?"

Bucky, focusing on the road, asked, "What?"

Steve leaned closer, his voice filled with gossip, "Lloyd Hansen just got dumped, and yesterday he almost ruined the changing room."

Bucky's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his brows furrowing in surprise. "What?" He glanced at Steve in disbelief.

Sam chimed in, adding to the commotion, "Woah, dude, look in front of you."

Bucky hurriedly turned his gaze back to the road ahead, his mind racing with a mixture of shock and curiosity.

As Bucky drove, his mind churned with a whirlwind of thoughts. Was it because of him that you broke up with Lloyd?

When Bucky entered the class, he saw you sitting alone, staring out the window with headphones on, seemingly oblivious to the glances and gossip swirling around you. He wanted to talk to you, but he could sense the invisible barrier you had erected, a silent plea that seemed to say, "Don't bother me."

And it was true. You didn't want to talk to anyone. Since seeing the photo yesterday, you had been grappling with a turmoil of emotions. Perhaps it was the devil inside you that had driven you to confront Lloyd.

When you confronted him, Lloyd was caught off guard. He didn't deny it, only offering the feeble excuse, "It meant nothing."

The words struck you like a physical blow, leaving you feeling sick to your stomach. If he could treat Nicky like that, then what about you?

Realization dawned like a bitter truth: he didn't put you first, and he didn't respect you in his heart. All those years spent together now felt like a cruel illusion, shattered in an instant.

You never imagined yourself saying those words to Lloyd, but in that moment of clarity, you knew it was the only choice. "We should break up," you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.

Lloyd's refusal to accept it only fueled his rage. You had always known he had a temper, but this was beyond anything you had seen before.

As the confrontation escalated, you couldn't help but see his true colors shining through. The breakup had revealed a side of him you had never known, and it terrified you to your core.

*********

After class, you noticed Lloyd waiting for you, his appearance markedly different from his usual polished self. Ignoring him, you tried to make a quick exit, but he hurried to catch up with you.

As the popular guy in the university, Lloyd's presence waiting for his ex-girlfriend caught everyone's attention. It seemed like the news of your breakup had spread all over the university, prompting second looks from passersby as they witnessed the unexpected encounter.

As you attempted to walk away, Lloyd's desperation escalated, and he grabbed your arm, pulling you towards a secluded spot away from prying eyes.

You resisted, heart pounding with a mixture of fear and frustration, but his grip was firm, and you found yourself reluctantly following him to the quiet corner he had chosen.

Once there, surrounded by the stillness of the secluded spot, the weight of the moment pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket. You stood facing him, the tension between you thick and palpable, each breath heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

"Babe, please," he pleaded, his voice strained with emotion.

You stopped reluctantly, turning to face him as he offered another apology. His words were a jumble of regret and desperation, each syllable tinged with a hint of sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he said, his gaze pleading for forgiveness. "I know I messed up, but please, give me another chance."

Your heart wavered at his words, torn between the pain of betrayal and the lingering affection you still held for him. But before you could respond, he uttered a statement that sent a chill down your spine.

"I will pretend I didn't hear the 'break up' words," he said, his tone a mixture of defiance and desperation.

The implication of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the toxic cycle you had found yourself trapped in. With a heavy sigh, you shook your head, steeling yourself against the pull of his pleading gaze.

"I can't do this anymore, Lloyd," you said softly, your voice tinged with resignation. "It's over."

You pulled away from Lloyd's grip, a surge of defiance coursing through you as you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the secluded spot.

Lloyd's fists clenched in frustration, his anger boiling over as he screamed after you, "You will regret this! You'll never find a better man than me!"

His words echoed in the empty space, a hollow threat that only served to strengthen your resolve. With each step you took away from him, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, a sense of liberation washing over you as you left him and his toxic influence behind.

Your feet moved faster, propelled by a surge of fear as Lloyd's threatening tone sent shivers down your spine. Desperate to escape, you scanned the surroundings until you spotted a familiar silhouette—it was Bucky.

"Bucky!" you called out, relief flooding your voice as you ran towards him. Was this a dream?

Bucky, noticing your distress, had gone in search of you. He turned to see you approaching, his expression a mix of concern and confusion.

As you reached him, you grabbed his hand, and together you ran, the warmth of his touch offering a sense of safety and reassurance. In that moment, Bucky felt a flutter in his chest, his heart racing as if trying to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him.

Lost in his own reverie, Bucky was jolted back to reality by Lloyd's accusing voice. "You chose him over me?!" Lloyd's words pierced through the air like a knife, his anger palpable as he lashed out at you both.

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[mangekyuou]

hi zuko !!! may i have familial headcanons for the monster trio with a little brother figure that wants to follow in their footsteps (wants to be a pirate, a swordsman, a chef) ? like how they'd treat him, what they feel about him, et cetera... ! thank u if u do take on this request n i hope u have a good day <3

★ WITH A LITTLE BROTHER FIGURE WHO WANTS TO BE LIKE THEM! headcanons ★

── featuring. luffy. zoro. sanji.

── cw. m!reader. no pronouns used. familial pairings. implied younger reader. slight marineford and whole cake island spoilers. mentions of getting injured. me rambling again. not proofread.

── notepad. i just think each of them would make such great older brothers, even though some are more reckless than others.

★ MONKEY D. LUFFY ★

── now the idea of having a younger brother has never really crossed his mind. he has always been among the youngest in his family

── but when you come along, seemingly out of nowhere, he’s so excited. but when you express that you too want to be a pirate, he’s ecstatic, he’s quite literally over the moon

── since you want to be a pirate like him he’s going to take you along with him and you’re going to be the first straw hat. how did the two of you even manage to make it out alive, no one knows

── luffy is the bad influence brother. he’s going to have you jumping right into the face of danger with no regard for safety whatsoever

── safety is not in his vocabulary

── luffy feels the need to be the cooler older brother to you in the way that ace and sabo were to him so that you can keep respecting him and thinking he’s the coolest big brother ever

── your opinion of him matters much more than you would think. if he ever found out you didn’t think he was cool anymore, he would burst into tears

── he knows you can handle your own and he would never get in your way. however, he can be a bit protective of you and is prone to worrying about you. if you disappear for even more than five seconds in a battle, he starts to get anxious

── he’s already lost one brother, and he is terrified to lose another one

★ RORONOA ZORO ★

── zoro doesn’t have any siblings [ that we know of ] so he didn’t really have someone to show him how to be a brother. there are a million other people out there he could easily be your older brother figure, why in the world would even consider him, he thinks to himself

── when you approach him and say that you want to follow in his footsteps and be a swordsman, he supports you

── he saw a bit of himself in you. it was like looking in a mirror at his younger self

── he becomes your first teacher and a very harsh one at that. maybe a bit too harsh sometimes

── he struggles at being soft with his words and comforting you. he gives you his critiques and they end up sounding just like insults. you were starting to lose not only your confidence but also your interest. could you really even be a swordsman if you couldn’t even do this simple move without falling over and almost hurting yourself?

── your insecurities become too much when you almost get yourself killed trying to use a sword in battle after zoro told you that you weren’t ready.

── he never lost his cool with you. but that day, he did. as he was yelling at you, it was all too much and you just ran and hid in the library on the sunny. while talking with robin, he realized that he shouldn’t have yelled at you, that you were just trying to help out.

── when he found you crying, he felt awful. watching you try to hide your face and wipe away your tears because it was weakness and swordsmen weren’t weak, cut deep. that’s not what he wanted to teach you at all :(

── he apologizes to you and confesses that, he was just scared of losing you. he opens up to you about his past, showing you wado ichimonji, and just how much this sword meant to him. never did he ever want to lose someone close to him again.

── with time and very intense training of his own [ training meaning being threatened by nami that if he ever made you cry again, she’d throw him overboard ], he became a better instructor and older brother to you

★ VINSMOKE SANJI ★

── with his complicated relationship with his brothers, sanji isn’t exactly looking to be someone’s big brother. even when you show up with those curious sparkles in your eyes

── though when you express interest in cooking, he’s more than happy to teach you the ropes to impress the ladies. ladies love a man who cares about their family, don’t they?

── he first teaches you the basics, the essentials, everything you need to know as a beginner, and simple but delicious recipes that you can cook for yourself. when he feels that you’re ready, he will slowly move on to more difficult techniques and recipes

── such as using a knife and cutting things correctly. you may have ended up cutting yourself a few times, it’s a painful part of the process, he tells you as he tends to your cuts and scrapes.

── sometimes the dishes that you worked hard on end up all weird and not at all how you imagined them. or sometimes they just end up burnt, leaving the kitchen with an awful smell

── sanji is just proud of you for not giving up. he admired your determination and independence…though he wishes you would let him help you sometimes. as your big brother that’s part of his job description. and so you wouldn’t dirty up so many dishes

── and as his younger brother, it’s in your job description to help him pick up ladies by making him look like the best older brother ever

── but it never works in the way that he hopes it will. so you just end up getting all the attention for the pretty women while he just sulks because that was supposed to be him

© MANGEKYUOU — do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[dantesunbreaker]

Hey hey hey. I noticed your requests were open and am taking this chance to ask for some Dad Secondo content. I crave soft Secondo and I am currently starved.

A Calming Embrace

Secondo x Reader(Platonic)

Sorry this took so long! Been so busy with planning and preparing for Christmas! But here is a small little piece of supportive Secondo!

An almost buzzing hum vibrates through your mind with a near echo as you try to pull your habit even tighter around your body, praying that it could simply make you disappear. Tears sting your eyes, cheeks flushed and dripping. You feel small. Pitiful. The crushing weight of responsibility weighing heavy down on your consequently not so steady shoulders. 

This was so unlike you..or at least that is what you would like to tell yourself. Normally you were much stronger than this. But times like this were becoming far too regular of an occurrence ever since the start of the latter quarter of the year. Ever since your decision to take on extra studies on top of your already busy schedule in service of the Clergy. 

Sleep has been far from your concerns for many nights, trying instead to cram in as much researching and reading as you could in the quiet solitude of the library. Which is exactly where you find yourself now, tucked away in one of the library reading nooks, wishing that the world could just fall away if even for just a few moments so you could get yourself back together. At least you are alone, without worrying about someone seeing you in the pits. Or at least that is what you think, up until you hear the familiar click of dress shoes walking on the stone tile floor.

Your heart jumps in your chest, but by the time you hear the sound, it is already too late to make an escape or even try to hide your tears. Eyes remaining fixed in place, you try to keep your composure as the bottom of elegant black robes suddenly block out your field of view. No, please anyone but him.

“Piccolo,” you flinch at the timbre of Secondo's voice, focused on his shoes as you nervously wipe away a few more tears. “What are you doing in the library at this hour? Siblings of Sin should be in bed at this time.”

Instead of a verbal response, you are cut off by your own choked hiccup that poorly conceals what could have been a sob. Another crashing wave of embarrassment hits you. Letting out a small whimper, you drop your head and try to curl in upon yourself. How could you let a Papa see you this way? How lowly would Secondo think of you now that he is seeing you at your worst? 

But instead of harsh words or a lecture, you feel a soft touch on your shoulder. Gasping softly, your eyes lift up to meet mismatched ones that are unexpectedly at your level. Secondo rests crouched down to your level, features soft despite the stern look painted onto his face. You think that perhaps this is the first time you have ever seen such genuine concern glimmering through his gaze, and it strikes a chord in your heart that has you trembling as you lean into his touch.

“Tell me, what is troubling you?” There is no malice in his voice, no harsh criticism, or judgment. No, all that you hear is the softness a father would use to speak with his own child. “Are you hurt?”

Sniffling, you furiously wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve as you drop your gaze and shake your head. As more of your weight pushes into the hand at your shoulder, Secondo shifts to allow you to rest against his chest, one arm wrapped securely around the back of your shoulders. It hits you with a wave of safety and warmth. 

“No, I am not hurt Papa,” you finally manage to gather the strength to mumble out, bottom lip still wobbling but your tears finally beginning to dry. You tilt your head up to look him in the eyes once more. “I’ve just been so overwhelmed lately. Trying to squeeze in extra studies on top of all my duties for the Clergy...it has been becoming too much for me. I feel like I barely have time to even think, let alone sleep. I feel weak, like I am a failure, and a let down to the Clergy.”

Secondo gives an understanding hum in response as a hand at the back of your head encourages you to rest your cheek against his collarbone. It soothes you in a way you haven’t felt for a long time. Feeling the support from such an influential figure in your life.

“It can be easy to feel overwhelmed by work,” Secondo keeps his voice soft as he cards his fingers through your hair. Words of comfort haven’t always been his strong suit, but damn if he did not try. “Even as Papa, I sometimes feel the same. Always so much to do but never enough time to finish it all.”

Another sniffle leaves you, but you remain silent otherwise, waiting for Secondo to continue. The hand at your shoulders rubbing firm circles into your tense muscles. 

“But that does not make you weak. It only means that you are human,” Secondo leans you back just enough to catch his eye, making sure you can feel the intensity and truth behind his words. “There is no shame in admitting that things are too much, and in fact, I am incredibly proud of you for being able to share with me.”

Tears once more sting your eyes, but from an overwhelming sense of love and affection, from finally feeling seen. Secondo gives a soft smile before he tucks you back against his chest, giving no complaints even as he feels the tears soaking through his robes. For the longest time, he simply holds you until you are quiet once more. Even then, he stays with you up until you finally shift around, feeling restless from staying in place for so long.

“Come tesorino,” Secondo breaks the silence with a soft voice, yet firm confidence that made it clear there was not much room for argument. He stands first, hands upturned in offerance to help lift you back onto your feet. “Let’s get you back to your quarters for some much needed sleep. I will meet with Sister Imperator in the morning to discuss reassigning some of your duties.”

[givemea-dam-break]

a/n: absolutely baffled that this series is doing so well, but here is the part 6 of Out the Window (lockwood x reader enemies to lovers) that a bunch of you wanted! i love you all so much thank you for your support <3 and thank you @nessa-stark for the inspiration :)

warnings: injury, language gn reader

full series collection: here

35 Portland Row is beginning to feel like a home.

You've fallen into its strange ways easily, finding comfort in hearing Lucy and George bicker over little things, and slipping into an easy morning after having a lie-in. A mug has been assigned to you, courtesy of George, and you even have a space in one of the cupboards for your own snacks, although they seem to be disappearing.

There's enough to keep you occupied: a library full of interesting-looking books, an area to practice with your rapier with two haphazardly made dummies, but you find yourself most often in the back room in the basement, filled with sources in silver boxes.

In one sits a small pen-covered box, completely unassuming, yet so, so heavy with memories. Even after a week since digging it up, you haven't had the nerve to look at the contents. Looking at it from beyond silverglass is enough to fill you with guilt. You don't think you could handle actually opening it.

Though you appreciate Lockwood keeping it in the display stand rather than taking it to the furnaces, there's a heavy weight attached to it. It's hard knowing the memory of someone you loved is in the same home as you, taunting you with the guilt of death you've been assured wasn't your fault.

You're standing in front of it when Lockwood finds you early in the afternoon, exactly a week since that case.

He holds a mug of steaming tea and a chipped plate with a couple of doughnuts in his hands. The sight makes you smile - he's becoming well-versed in learning to bribe you into helping him out.

"New case?" you ask.

His grin has something in your stomach doing gymnastics. "How'd you know?"

"You're bringing me my favourite doughnuts and a cup of tea, so it's pretty clear you're here to bribe me into coming along with you."

"Damn, you've caught me." He places the mug and plate down on a nearby table. "I had a call this morning from a new client - couldn't meet because he's out of the city at the moment, but he was hoping we could get rid of it while he's gone."

You pluck one of the doughnuts off the plate and take a bite out of it. "Any details? Are George and Lucy coming?"

"They've got their own case," he says, leaning against the wall. Something about the fluorescent lighting mixed with the glow of the sources makes his features seem that much sharper. "I was hoping you'd come with me to the Archives, get some background knowledge, and then we could head off. The house is in the area."

"If I didn't know any better," you say, "I'd think you just want to spend time with me, Lockwood."

He's silent for a minute, eyes flickering across your face as if trying to discern the nature of your comment but replies not too long after. "I'll give you time to have your tea, then we'll go."

And then he's gone.

You can't help the little flutter in your chest, despite its unfamiliarity, at the fact that Lockwood didn't outright deny wanting to spend time with you. Over the course of the past couple of months, you've grown closer, and it's been easy to forgive him for what happened a year ago, but you never expected to feel anything more than a platonic friendship between the two of you. But your heart speeds up a little at the sight of him, and the mere skim of fingers when he passes you things, whether it's a cup of tea or a rapier, has your skin tingling.

Until last week, you've been used to bottling up your feelings and keeping them hidden. Getting close to people means losing them and having to deal with the grief that follows, and that isn't a pain you think you could handle again. But, after that case, after being held so tenderly in Lockwood's arms as you sobbed, it's become very hard to manage your emotions.

With a sigh, still staring at the spot he had just been standing in, you finish your tea and snacks before hurrying up the basement steps.

--

"I think I've found something."

Lockwood leans over your shoulder, looking down at the newspaper you have splayed across the table. You can feel his breath on your neck, and it sends a shiver down your spine. If this was even a month ago, you would've pushed him away and scoffed, but now it's like you can't move. The memory of a soft kiss on your head has you rooted in place.

"What is it?"

"Newspaper from the nineteen-twenties." You flip back to the front page. "There was a murder, see, and if we go back to this page... Look, that's the address we're going to later, right? It says here that some lady, Maria Broome, was found dead, stabbed eighteen times."

"Eighteen? That's a bit overboard, isn't it?"

You elbow him. "That's not the point! The point is, I think she's our ghost."

"And what about her murderer?"

"Well, I believe her husband was having an affair, and when she confronted him, some shit went down and he killed her. He was the one arrested. God, she was barely twenty."

He leans slightly closer. "Great work. Any idea what her source could be?"

If you turned your head even slightly, your face would be mere millimetres from his. The realisation has your heart pounding in your chest.

"Um, not really. I mean, it could be her wedding ring or something. Maybe it fell through the floorboards. In reality, it could be anything. I'll have to listen out for it."

"Well, I have full confidence that you'll find it."

His hand closes over your shoulder, and you can feel its warmth through your jacket. It feels like sparks are coursing through your bones at the touch. Too soon, he pulls his hand away, but it lingers much longer than it should, though you aren't complaining. His touch had become a welcome thing in the past week.

"Let's go," Lockwood says, standing straight and pulling on his jacket. "We've got a job to do."

--

With iron circles set up in the hallway and the lounge, and still half an hour until any ghosts might start appearing, you and Lockwood share a flask of hot tea in the kitchen, watching the clock tick. The tea is a little bitter, but you don't mind all that much.

The kitchen light is off, but you have a small lantern sitting on the dining table, illuminating the space and casting everything in a golden glow. Shadows, created by tall, fake plants or decorations, loom, looking like monsters from fairytales.

Beside you, Lockwood chews on a biscuit. In the light, his cheekbones look more dramatic, and his eyes seem so much brighter. You can't help but admire the effect it has on him, making him seem otherworldly, in some strange but fascinating way.

"Have I got something on my face?" Lockwood asks, reading a magazine he'd stuffed in his bag.

"Hmm?" you say.

"You're staring."

Shit. "Think you need your eyes checked. I've been watching the door for any sign of danger."

"Mm-hm."

His sarcasm irks you but it feels oddly nice. Though you want to elbow him in the ribs, you also want to fall into the humour it holds.

"So," he says, "judging from the deathglow I spotted when we first scouted the house, I'd say our dear Mrs Broome was murdered in the lounge."

"I could've told you that. Found it in the newspapers earlier."

"Oh, you did?" He laughs softly. "Fair enough. Either way, the source will most likely be in there somewhere."

You take another sip of tea. "There was an heirloom cabinet in the corner of the lounge, filled with all sorts. I can go check it out just now."

"Let me come with you."

"I'll be fine, Lockwood," you say. "It's just the next room over, and the sun hasn't even completely set yet. It gets hard to concentrate when all I can hear is you pacing around."

He grins and nods. Although what you said wasn't necessarily a lie, it wasn't the whole truth either. It gets hard to focus, yes, partly because he's a fidgety guy and can't seem to stand still lest the world keep moving without him, but also because his presence alone is distracting. The sound of his quiet mumbling, or the faint scent of tea and cheap shampoo - it all blurs your thought process a little.

The lounge is cool, ten degrees, but it's no colder than it was when you first checked out the rooms. You can't see deathglows, not like Lockwood, but you know the iron circle is just beside it, right in front of the sofa. A lantern lights up the room, but you turn down the flaps, dimming it as much as possible.

In the far corner of the room, an heirloom cabinet made of dark wood and glass stands in opposition to the muted colours of the lounge. Inside it are a number of things: a photo of two men, a fancy box holding a beautiful bracelet, and an old-looking vase covered in brightly-coloured painted flowers, among other things.

What catches your eye, though, is a ring set upon a small green velvet cushion. It's a simple gold band with a small emerald inlaid. An engagement ring, maybe.

Cautiously, you open the cabinet.

"I'm about to listen," you shout to Lockwood.

"Got it!"

With careful fingers, you pluck the ring off its cushioned display, holding it in the palm of your hand. The metal is cold, but not alarmingly so.

It takes only a moment to open your senses. All sound disappears and, for a moment, there is no sound, but, then, there's a faint voice. Frightened and young, calling for help. A stronger, angry voice follows, shouting incoherently. You can't make out the words, but you can hear the tinkling sound of the ring falling onto the floor as if thrown, followed by even more shouting. There's a scream, piercing and terrified, then a loud thump, more angry shouting, and then silence.

You stare at the ring, breathing heavily. It feels colder in your hand now, and it's too late when you notice the thin layer of frost covering the surrounding area of your palm.

"Help me," a quiet, croaky voice begs. "Help me."

Slowly, you turn, coming face-to-face with the ghost of Maria Broome.

A Wraith, you realise immediately. She was once beautiful, as you know from the photographs produced in the old newspapers, but the wounds that caused her death have mutilated her. Eighteen stab wounds, you remember, and a good portion of them are on her chest and face. The sight makes you feel sick.

"Everything alright in there?" Lockwood shouts, but you can't answer.

Ghost lock, you think. You've been trained in how to pull yourself from it, but seeing her so close, so brutalised, you can't bring yourself to move. How many women have ended up dead at the hands of their husbands? Will you end up like that? Or will you let her save you from that fate sooner...?

"Help me," she repeats, and you can feel the emotion in her voice.

It's a struggle to speak. Your arms feel so heavy. "How?"

"Help me."

"(name)?"

Lockwood appears in the doorway and immediately draws his rapier. The sound alerts the ghost, and she screeches with fury.

"Help me!"

Her voice is deafening and, under the effect of ghost lock, you don't have time to move before her hand, covered in her own dark blood, touches your arm.

You can do nothing but cry out in pain, finally able to stumble backwards, as Lockwood launches himself at the ghost, striking straight through her with his rapier. You fall back into the glass-and-wood cabinet, sending it toppling to the ground. Shards of glass dig into your skin, and blood pours easily from the wounds.

Even now, you can see your elbow swelling and turning blue. It's getting a little harder to breathe, and your heart is beating strangely in your chest.

The sound of salt bombs hurts your ears, still ringing from the sound of the Visitor's wail. Lockwood's feet move swiftly on the ground, holding off any attacks from the ghost, but, even injured and ghost-touched, you can see that he's fighting a losing battle. The silver box you brought is still in the kitchen.

Pain flares in your arms as you stand, pickled with glass, and you've already lost the use of the lower part of your arm. Without an adrenaline injection soon, the effect will spread further, and you'll be dead before the night is even over.

Your lungs are burning but, ring in hand, you sprint out of the lounge and into the kitchen.

"Help me!" Maria Broome screams, her voice malicious.

With your good arm, you scavenge around in your bag, acutely aware of the sound of salt bombs exploding in the other room. It takes a few minutes, but, soon enough, you find the silver box and hurry to shove the ring inside.

All sounds cease.

Once more, Lockwood appears, out of breath and red-faced. "(name)! Are you alright? Did she -"

Weakly, you hold out your arm. The whole of your forearm is now blue and swollen, and everything - your organs, your blood flow - seems to be functioning much slower than it should. It's hard to breathe or see, and your voice feels like nothing but a strong block in your throat. Nothing will come out.

"Shit."

He runs over just in time to catch you as your legs give out. Collapsing to the ground with you, he clutches you tightly, careful to avoid any of the glass shards piercing your skin, or the area affected by ghost touch.

"Shit. Oh, god, you're okay, okay? You're perfectly fine." His voice wavers and his hands are trembling as he brushes hair out of your face. You can only look up at him, vision spotted with black. "Hang on, okay? I'll call an ambulance, just hang on. No, don't close your eyes. Stay awake for me, can you do that?"

It's hard, but you nod, vaguely aware of the cold tile floor on your back and the sound of him scampering away. His voice is distant, and it's hard to hear anything but the slow, fading pounding of your heart.

By the time Lockwood returns, the world has faded to black, and you can hear nothing.

--

Beeping. Incessant beeping that's pissing you off.

"Turn it off," you grumble. Who let you take a nap in the same room as the washing machine again?

A hand closes around yours almost instantly, and, with a struggle, you open your eyes. The room you find yourself in is blindingly white, the only colour being brought by a vase of pretty tulips, the strangely patterned gown you wear beneath a thin white blanket, and the tie and socks of the boy sitting beside your bed.

Lockwood sits in a chair beside the bed, dressed in his usual attire, but he looks much more dishevelled than usual. His hair is mussed, slightly, and his clothes slightly wrinkled.

Still, he smiles. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

You scowl. "Pissed off. What's that beeping?"

"Your heart rate. So, if anyone's to blame for it, it's you."

"Why -" You look around the room again, properly taking note of your surroundings. "Am I in a hospital?"

His hand squeezes yours softly. It's covered in little plasters. "Back at the house, you were ghost touched. The ambulance barely got to you in time. Another minute and you'd have been dead."

It's almost unnoticeable, but his voice breaks on the last word. Only now do you notice the salt flakes in his hair or the fact that his tie is the same one he wore to the case. There are bags under his eyes, made that much more dramatic by the bright white lighting of the room. There's a cannula in your right hand, and your whole right arm is tinted blue and slightly more swollen than your left.

"I -" You struggle with your words. Your throat feels dry, and you're grateful for the glass of water Lockwood hands you. "How long have I been here?"

"You've been in and out of sleep consistently for the past two days," he says. "The ghost touch was bad, and doctors wanted you to wake up fully before you came home. I was worried -" His voice catches, and your heart squeezes in your chest painfully. "I was worried you wouldn't wake up, and the thought of that... I wouldn't be able to handle it if you died, (name)."

He struggles to even say the word died, and it's heartbreaking. Two days he's had to fight those feelings, two days spent solely by your side if his appearance is anything to go by.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I couldn't get out of the ghost lock. If I'd tried harder..."

His eyes meet yours, holding you in place. "No, I'm sorry. I should've gotten there sooner. No, in fact, I should've come in there with you to begin with. If I had, I could've stopped her before she -"

"Hey," you say, softly grazing your thumb over the skin of his hand, "it wasn't your fault, okay? I'm alive. I'm okay, thanks to you."

There's a red tinge to his eyes now, and they've taken on a glassy look. "If I lost you, it would be like losing everything."

"Lockwood -"

"My life is better because you're in it, (name), and without you..." He looks away. "When you hated me, I could cope, because having you hate me was better than not having you in my life at all, but, now, after being able to have a friendship with you, after being able to love you, I wouldn't be able to handle it if you had died."

Your heart has stopped, or, at least, you'd think it has if not for the beeping of the heart monitor. His words have you in a chokehold, and you're unable to do anything but repeat them over and over in your head until it's all you can hear.

Lockwood's face is full of anguish. "I know you don't feel the same, and that's okay, but I couldn't live unless I'd told you."

Your throat feels thick with emotion. "You're wrong."

"What?"

If there's one thing that bugs Anthony Lockwood, it's being wrong, and the look of confusion makes you laugh softly.

"You heard me, you're wrong." With great effort, you move your right arm until you can place your hand atop his. "I do feel the same. It's actually quite rude of you to assume I don't. Quite a dick move, Mr Lockwood."

It takes a moment for your words to register but when they do, the grin that splits his face is dazzling. You've never seen anything so vibrant, so entrancing, as this.

"You do?"

"Mm-hm. You see, the way to my heart is through doughnuts from Arif's, and you've done just that."

Your palms are sweaty, but you don't think he minds as he squeezes your hand again. You can feel his pulse thundering just as fast as yours.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I think a hospital perhaps isn't the ideal place for a first kiss, but I suppose so."

Slowly, as if you'll tell him to stop, Lockwood leans forward, eyes flickering over your face. Your eyes flutter shut just before his lips brush yours, tasting like shitty hospital tea.

The kiss opens up parts of you that have been closed off for so long. Grief had buried them so long ago, but it's as if the kiss is slowly healing your hurt, patching them up with badly cut plasters and an overload of Savlon - the Doctor Lockwood method of first aid. It's gentle, tender, cautious, and it's clear he's worried he'll hurt you.

But he won't, he can't. So long as his hand is in yours, or your lips are together, he can't hurt you.

It feels like forever before you both pull away, but his forehead rests softly on yours. His eyes look so bright and happy.

"Do I get a pay raise for being the boss's partner?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh, so we're already in a relationship?"

"Yes, you knob, we are because I say so."

"Well, whatever you say goes."

"Damn right it does."

He laughs, and the sound is enough to be a catalyst for your inner healing.

It's been a while since you've loved anyone, and you know the same goes for Lockwood. The last people you both loved died, and it's been hard recovering from that, but you'll take things slowly and carefully. Over time, you'll both heal, and you'll be there for one another the whole time.

With a smile and some urging from Lockwood, you drift off back to sleep again, comforted by the feeling of his hand in yours and the knowledge that he loves you, too.

[knjbrin]

Introduce your ocs to me, im new :3

Oh HIIIII omg Let me start okay so These are all Ocs for my Comic Broken Bottlez;

*This is Willow they go by She/They Pronouns and is the main character and lead singer and guitarist of the band

Her interests consist of reading Books on The history of rock music and Practicing guitar. She takes writing music and keeping the band together very seriously. When she’s not doing any of that she’s Exercising or working part time at Vera’s Bar.

*Then there’s Keeoni She’s 24 and goes by She/Her pronouns and is the second main character. She’s a Journalist for a Magazine that features Rock bands and all things Alternative.

A social Butterfly Keeoni loves to be on the scene whenever there’s a concert, a party, or an event that needs her she’ll be there.

Her interests consist of Learning about bands and the history of Alternative music because her father used to be the lead singer of a Famous band. When she’s not doing that she’s Volunteering at Libraries reading to children or tutoring students. She loves Fashion and Wants to start a blog about Fashion trends in the scene. She’s new to town and Finds herself Getting much more personal with Lead singer of Broken Bottlez

*Then there’s Elizabelle who’s sort of the main Antagonist of the comic. She’s 25 and goes by She/Her pronouns and is an Ex member of Broken Bottlez along with Being Willows Ex.

An Upcoming Model and Fashion Influencer Elizabelle is A Social Butterfly she thrives in the Social Scene and will do anything to Stay in it.

Her interests consist of Shopping, Blogging, and Socializing with People of her Social Status and going to Parties to mingle with the VIP there. Outside of that Eliza struggles with her self image of being Apart of a society that looks at her like another Bimbo Woman who just wants to be Famous.

*Then there’s Vera The best friend of Willow and sort of the older sister of the bandShes 25 and goes by She/Her pronouns and takes on more of a Manager role for the band By finding gigs, writing songs, managing tours and interviews etc.

She owns a Goth Bar and Considers herself an Ambivert. Blunt and Straightforward when it comes to the greater good of her friends and the band she’s taken on a Sisterly role to Willow, Ash, and Karissa.

Her interests consist of supporting her community and giving her people a space where they can be themselves and still feel safe and comfortable. She can be sarcastic at times and a little harsh with her honesty but has the greater good of her friends in her heart.

*Then there’s Karissa Lead Bassist and Sub Vocalist of Broken Bottlez She’s 22 and goes by She/Her pronouns and is Willows younger Cousin Karissa is the heart of the band She always knows how to lift everyone’s spirits whenever things seem to be going wrong.

She’s an Extrovert and loves to be around like minded people. She’s very protective of her friends Especially Ash and Willow. She can tell what a persons feeling just off of one look and tends to be the shoulder her friends can lean on.

Her interests consist of making her own Clothes and designing outfits for the band to wear. When she’s not doing that she’s Practicing Bass and helping out at her mother’s Bakery or Helping Vera manage the Band. She also may or may not have a teeeeny tiny crush on Ash.

*And finally There’s Ashton “Ash” for short. Lead Drummer of the bandThey’re 23 and go by They/Them pronouns and is Willows Best Friend

Introverted by choice Ash likes to keep their public image simple: Cold and Mysterious. Buuut in reality they’re actually An open book and a very loyal and kindhearted Individual to those they are close to. They just really prioritize privacy. Tends to get overwhelmed when at the center of social scenes so Prefers Observing and listening.

Their interests consist of Playing and Practicing The drums. Are they never not playing the drums? Outside of that They Help run their family’s Record store With their Oldest brother and going to quiet places like parks, libraries, and Art galleries. Loves to hangout at Vera’s Bar tends to be the one Social setting they thrive in.

And that’s it pretty much! I’m still working on some things and getting character sheets out but Welcome to my Weird little Sapphic Comicverse 😭❤️❤️❤️

[bangtanloverboys]

life support // knj

summary - namjoon likes to think he’s the embodiment of the perfect example of a theurgists: positive and enthusiastic. however when his professor asks him to help tutor one of her secondary students, only then is that pushed to the limit

pairing - tutor!namjoon x neurodivergent!reader

genre - fluff; wizard 101 au

word count - 4.0k

warnings - dip’s made up lore, namjoon says one mean thing, thoughts of fraternization 

guide - theurgy = life magic, divination = storm magic; marlybonian = british dog people; pigswick = another wizarding academy; 

author’s note - last names for reasons. and this was a bit personal for me as i do have adhd and i struggled a lot with theoretical teachings. this is based off my own personal experience with school and having adhd, not everyone’s is the same

the seven schools of ravenwood

Best in class. That is how Namjoon has always been described ever since he was a novice theurgist. It came easy to him, with a glance at a textbook he could perform the spell in an instant. Life magic was simply in his blood. So when Professor Wu asked him to tutor some of her less than stellar students, he wasn’t surprised. It took a while for each of the other students to catch on, but one by one, he helped them understand the material and soon enough, they raised their grades. Namjoon’s track record was stunning, there wasn’t any student he couldn’t help.

That was until he met you.

Normally Professor Wu only offered tutoring for her novice primary school students; young theurgists that either did not grow up where magic was practiced or simply fell behind a few lessons and needed a bit of help to get back on their feet. Never before had he had to tutor a secondary school theurgist. But he was willing to step up to the challenge. 

Pushing open the heavy oak doors of the Life School, he was greeted with the familiar sight of Professor Wu standing at the top of the platform. Standing right at the bottom of the stairs before her, was you, dressed in purple and gold. A diviner, Namjoon thought to himself. Life magic sat in between Storm and Fire, so one normally would expect a student of those primary schools would easily understand and excel at theurgy. He wondered what could be the problem. 

“Ah, Namjoon!” She smiled as he approached you both. “Y/N, this will be your tutor; Namjoon Jadeshield. Namjoon, this is Y/N Raindreamer,” she introduced.

“Pleasure,” he greeted, holding out his hand for you to shake. You don’t shake his hand, only giving him a tight lipped smile. “Okay. . .” he dropped his hand. “What exactly are you struggling with so that I can help?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Professor Wu cut you off. “Everything, really. They’re supposed to start their initiate program, but unfortunately they must repeat their apprenticeship.”

Namjoon tried to hold back his shock. Failing the apprenticeship class?  You’d have to repeat the whole two year process, probably never catch back up to your primary school level. “Okay. So how often shall we hold tutoring sessions?” He glanced between you and Professor Wu.

“Ideally every day after class,” the professor answered.

Your head snapped in the direction of her. “No!” Turning to Namjoon, you began to plead with him. “Monday, Tuesday, Thursday. I need Wednesday and Friday free. I have-“

“You know very well that any or all after school activities are suspended until your grades rise, Raindreamer,” Professor Wu tisked.

But you didn’t acknowledge her, only keeping your eyes trained on Namjoon. “I’m sorry, but Professor Wu is right. Until you have sufficient grades to prove it, no after school activities.”

As the words left his mouth, Namjoon watched in slow motion as your face fell. Like the world had crashed around you. Quickly, your face steeled and a frown was etched onto your features. “Fine.”

“Alright,” Namjoon nodded, wanting this meeting to be over and done with. “We’ll start tomorrow. Meet me outside the Commons Library? Sound good with you?”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever,” you huffed as you shouldered your book bag and left the school building, leaving Namjoon and Professor Wu alone. 

“I swear, with a name like Raindreamer, it’s no wonder they have grades like this,” she sighed. “But thank you again, Namjoon. I know you’ll be a great help.”

“I’ll do my best.” 

The following day, Namjoon waited for you just outside the Commons Library. He was there a full 10 minutes before you finally arrived. He opened his mouth to berate you for being late but words failed to come out at the sight of you; fresh scrapes and bandages covering any exposed skin. 

“What?” You raised a brow at him.

“Are you- what happened?”

You looked down at the bandages before shrugging. “Fell.”

Whilst that didn’t feel like the full reason, Namjoon didn’t push any further, simply wanting to get the tutoring session along. You trailed behind him as he climbed up the final steps to the library, pushing open the doors. Namjoon waved hello to Harold, the old Marleybonian that served as the librarian, as he scribbled away in his ledger. 

“This way,” Namjoon said to you as he walked down the theurgy wing. Other life students, dressed in robes of greens and browns, were seated at the tables that were strategically placed alongside the tall bookshelves. He made his way over to his usual table, it sat right between the initiate and journeyman textbooks. Granted those might be a bit out of your range, but perhaps it could serve as a bit of motivation to help you move forward. 

Placing his book bag down, he looked at you, straggling along still. A bit further than he would’ve liked, but you were soon catching up. Your eyes were trained on the books as they flew across the shelves, rearranging and reorganizing themselves. There was a small smile etched into your face as you watched the books and scrolls float about, reminding Namjoon of a child on Christmas. Clearing his throat to gain your attention, he watched as that smile faded away, back into a look of displeasure. You picked up the pace, taking the seat beside him.

“Professor Wu didn’t give me any specifics as to what you need help with. So are there any particular parts that you need help with?” Namjoon asked as you pulled out your scrolls and text books. 

“Everything, I guess. It just. . . doesn’t make sense. I can’t figure out how to get from Point A to Point B,” you explained. 

“So conceptualizing it?”

You blinked at him. “I- uh, I guess that is one way to put it.”

“Okay, that gives us a starting point then.” He smiled at you. “So let’s go to basics. See if that can help.” 

“Alright,” you muttered, learning forward as he began writing.

“So theurgy is a bit different than the other schools, when using magic we don’t summon or coerce the creatures into appearing. We breathe life into them through the Song of Creation. Are you familiar with that?” When he turned to look at you, you were staring blankly at the paper. He waited a few moments for you to respond, but you didn’t. Namjoon snapped his fingers twice, you jerked back to attention.

“Sorry, I- uh. . . what did you say?”

It was then when Namjoon realized how you were able to fail your apprenticeship so miserably and how you earned your last name. 

You could not focus at all.

Every time Namjoon was going over spell casting and or creation, he would turn to you to check to see if you were following, only for you to have a blank look on your face or your eyes to be trained on the floating books again. Every time he would have to snap his fingers to regain your attention. On some occasions, he saw you scribbling away into a notebook. At first he thought you were actually taking notes, but anytime he tried to take a look at it, you shut the book in his face.

By the end of the second hour, when your session was coming to a close, you had finally managed to understand one spell. It was just a shield spell, so it wasn’t too complicated, but not enough for Namjoon to be satisfied with your progress. 

As the two of you left the library, you were about to make a break for the right, no doubt returning to your dorm room in Ravenwood, but he quickly grabbed onto your wrist. 

“What?”

“I want you to read over the History of Life Magic, chapters one through four. Just the basics, that should help at least a tiny bit.”

“You’re giving me homework?” 

He blinked at you, caught off guard by the question. He’s always asked the students he tutored to reread certain materials, and they did so without question. “It’s not really homework, just helps to go over the material again,” he sputtered out in response. “I want to see you succeed and catch up in your secondary school. And reading helps.”

“Yeah, sure,” you huffed with a roll of your eyes, then walked down the pathway through the Commons.

Over the next two weeks, the two of you had fallen into a routine; every few days you’d be late by no more than 10 minutes to each session (how he had no idea, considering the initiate divination class would get out around your scheduled time) with fresh bandages, he’d try his damndest to help you understand the material, and then you’d part ways, heading off towards the right. And it was agonizing for Namjoon. You read at a snail's pace, mixing up the pixie and fairy spells, scrambling words and wand motions together. It wasn’t by lack of effort either, Namjoon could see you were trying, genuinely, but no matter how much reading he assigned you, nothing seemed to stick. You got one spell for every ten he went over with you. He simply could not believe how you managed to even get enrolled into Ravenwood in the first place.

When he expressed his frustrations towards Professor Wu when it was time for a follow up, she finally told him that you were a new student, only coming in within the past 6 months, after being kicked out of Pigswick for poor performance. He was shocked at the information, but it made sense. You were a troubled student and needed a firm hand. So he went to work, putting together another lesson plan that was more strict to try and see if that would help you at all.

It didn’t.

Barely a full session in, he watched as you failed to recite the proper incantations to summon a leprechaun, something you nearly had the day previous. 

“What isn’t clicking for you?” He found himself asking you at the end of the session.

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean, why can’t you do this? This is basic theurgy, and you’re a storm student! This should come easy to you, right? So why are you struggling so much?” He felt like he was at the end of his rope. If he couldn’t teach you, then what hopes could he ever have about being a professor?

“I mean, it just. . . doesn’t. It’s hard to explain. . .”

“Well if you don’t figure it out, you’re gonna get kicked out from another school,” Namjoon muttered under his breath.

“What?”

He froze. He cringed to himself as he turned around to look at you, regretting even thinking the words. Once he laid eyes on you, he saw that same broken look he saw when Professor Wu said you couldn’t continue with your afterschool activities, only worse. Your shoulders sagged, and Namjoon swore he could’ve heard your heart break, shattered by him. Then your face hardened as you tightened your grip on your bookbag.

“Then I guess there’s no reason for us to really continue these sessions, considering I’m just gonna get kicked out anyways.” Then you turned on your heel and stormed off.

“Y/N, wait- I’m sorry!”

He wanted to follow after you, but he couldn’t find it in him to. He watched as you disappeared into the crowded Commons area, wishing he never even opened his mouth. 

The following day after class, Namjoon made his way over towards the Storm School. You deserved an apology, Namjoon knew that. What he said was mean, and something he never should’ve said as your tutor. It was just his luck that his mastery class ended at the same time the Storm initiate class ended, giving him the perfect opportunity to find you and apologize. He eyed through the students as they made their way past him, on their own way towards their next class or any after school club. But he could not find out. He knew he had the right year, you were supposed to go into the initiate class this year, you were the proper age for it. Where were you?

Perhaps you stayed inside to talk to the professor, he thought to himself as he approached the heavy oak doors. Thunder boomed overhead from the gathering storm cloud that resided inside the classroom. It had been years since he’d ever stepped foot in the school of storm, the first and only time being from when he was trying to find a secondary school, all those years before he finally landed on balance. 

Namjoon glanced around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of you but you weren’t in the room. Only Professor Balestrom resided in the classroom, standing on top of his desk as he gathered papers.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the school, clearing his throat to gain the frog professor’s attention. He turned on his flipper as the sound of Namjoon and bounced up to his full height of three feet. 

“Ah! How can I be of service to you?”

“Hi, I’m tutoring one of your students. Y/N Raindreamer? They would be in your initiate class.”

A frown etched itself onto Professor Balestrom’s face. “Raindreamer is my student yes, but they’re not in my initiate class.”

“What?” 

“Raindreamer advanced into the adept class about 3 months ago! They’re a brilliant student, one of the best diviners I’ve seen in a while,” he explained.

The information shook Namjoon to his core. You were an advanced student? But how could that be, considering your grades in theurgy? It didn’t make any sense. “I-I didn’t know that.”

“First time in my class, they struggled though. Came in on a reading day, which is everyone’s least favorite part of the curriculum. But as soon as we got to spell casting, they nearly blew the roof off this place!” The professor continued, leaping up in the air for dramatic effect. “They weren’t even here a week before I took them to the headmaster and demanded they advance to the journeyman course, only that was also too easy! They’re getting a real challenge in adept, I’ll tell you that.”

Namjoon couldn’t believe his ears. Here he was, thinking you were a walking failure, doomed to be kicked out of a second school. Only to learn that you were nearly two years advanced in your studies! “Oh. . . well, do you know where they might be? I do need to talk to them.”

Professor Balestrom looked at the clock on the wall. “Should be in the arena by now.”

“The arena?”

“Yes. The arena! They’re a duelist, did you not know that?”

Only then did it dawn on him that he never did ask what you wanted to do so badly that you wanted to schedule your tutoring sessions around it. Then he remembered what days you were late on, the fresh bandages you always had on. . . You were still dueling. Under the school’s nose too.

“Thank you, Professor Balestrom. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, of course!” The frog man called out to Namjoon as he all but ran out the door. As fast as he could, he made his way through the tunnels to the Commons and then to Unicorn Way. He pushed open the doors of the arena, the snapping of puppets and growls of different summoned monsters filled his ears as he approached Diego, the dueling master.

“A newcomer? Are you interested in learning the art of the duel?” The unicorn asked, raising a brow at him.

Namjoon shook his head no. “Sorry, I’m actually looking for someone. Y/N Raindreamer?”

“Ah, yes! They’ve been short on their dueling practice lately, but they’re in the next dueling chamber over. Come, I shall show you.” Diego led Namjoon down a hall towards an empty arena, where sure enough you were, dueling against a puppet. 

He was blown away with the sight before him. You waved your wand with practiced ease and the creatures you summoned did your bidding with little to no struggle at all. It wasn’t at all how you were when he was tutoring you. How could you manage to do so good in one class that you advance two classes, but struggle to advance in your secondary?

“Pretty good, eh? Came in from Pigswick, good school and all but they don’t actually teach magic there. It’s all theoretical. But as soon as Raindreamer was enrolled here, and with a little help from your’s truly, they advanced in no time!” Diego explained as he and Namjoon watched you battle the puppet. “They come in here as often as they can, practicing all the spells they learn in class. See the scrolls?” He pointed off to the side of the dueling sigil where sure enough, were piles of spell books and scrolls, mainly of storm magic, judging from the purple lining. But Namjoon could see some greens in there. 

You weren’t just practicing.

You were studying.

Raising your wand again, this time the life symbol appeared. Up until the last wave of your wand, it was perfect. You had twisted your wrist in the wrong direction, causing the spell to fizzle completely. You let out a curse as you stepped away from the sigil, the puppet standing still. You pulled open the life scroll, reading over it again, no doubt trying to find your mistake.

“You’re supposed to twist your wrist towards the right, not the left!” Namjoon called out to you. Your head snapped up in his direction, mouth open to probably yell at him. But you didn’t say anything, your eyes focusing on Diego behind him. 

“He’s right, you were perfect up until that last move,” Diego confirmed as he trotted down the stairs towards you, Namjoon following after. “He was looking for you, I hope you do not mind I brought him here.”

“It’s alright, thank you, Diego.” You gave the unicorn a slight smile, who nodded before stepping away, giving the two of you some privacy. Once your attention was fully towards Namjoon, your lips pressed into a thin line. “What is it, Namjoon?”

“I wanted to apologize, what I said was out of line. As your tutor, it should’ve been my priority to build you up, not to tear you down.”

You regarded him cautiously. “Doesn’t change the fact that what you said really hurt. I did try, but studying like that just. . . it doesn’t work for me. Sitting there and telling me how to cast spells, I have to see and do it to fully understand. Do you get that?”

“Yes, I can see that now.” Namjoon stepped toward the pile of scrolls and books that you had at the side of the arena. Picking up the one that was open, he flipped through it. There were a bunch of notes and scribbles in the margins, he recognized the chicken scratch as yours but what you wrote were what he would go over and teach you in your tutoring sessions. “This is why you wanted those days off, so you could practice your spellwork and could try to actually grasp what you were learning?”

Slowly, you nodded. “I will admit, I did continue dueling, but without the proper amount of dedication to practice and study, it just. . . I couldn’t do it.”

“Then we’ll hold our tutoring sessions here.”

You looked at him in shock. “What?”

“If this is what helps you learn, then this is what we’ll do to help you,” Namjoon started, “I’ll tell Professor Wu about the change and reserve an arena with Diego. We can meet here instead of the library, does that sound good to you?”

“I- yeah! That’s- that’s perfect, thank you!” You said, beaming widely at him. It was the first time you actually smiled at him, and he was going to deny the little flutter he felt in his chest. 

“Okay, so I’ll see you here tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow!”

Just as he said, Namjoon talked with Moolinda about having you study via dueling.

“I don’t know, Jadeshield. . . they’re failing, and the rules are no extracurriculars unless a student is of a passing grade.”

“I know, but this is how they learn! I didn’t understand it at first, and that’s my fault. But they’re actually really smart! Did you know they’re two classes advanced in divination?” Namjoon countered. 

Professor Wu was taken back by that knowledge, judging by the way her eyes narrowed down and focused on him. 

“Please, just give them a chance.”

She was quiet, before placing her hooves together and nodding. “Very well. You may hold your tutoring lessons in the arena.”

Namjoon was so ecstatic, he would have jumped for joy. But there was one more thing that he had to ask. . .

 Due to his meeting with the professor, Namjoon was running late to meet you at the Arena. He saw you were sitting on the grass outside the building, looking down at that book you would scribble in during your tutoring sessions, flipping through the pages. 

“Hey!” He caught your attention as he approached you. “I have great news!”

Looking up from your book, you furrowed your brows together. “What?”

“I talked to Professor Wu and she gave the green light for us to do dueling tutoring sessions and she agreed!”

You jumped to your feet. “Really?!”

“Yes, and she agreed to something even better.” 

“Spit it out then! Don’t leave me here in all this suspense!”

“If you test well enough on the next exam that’s in a few weeks, you can join the initiate program!” It took a lot of convincing on his part, and staking his whole career as a tutor on the line, but he was wrong to ever doubt you in the first place. He knew you could do it.

“You-oh my stars! Thank you!” Dropping your book, you threw yourself onto Namjoon, wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly.

He stilled at the sudden contact, feeling heat rush to his cheeks. “You’re- you’re welcome,” he said, patting your back gently. He’d never been thanked in such a way before, usually a quick handshake or a smile. Never a hug. 

As quick as you hugged him, you released your hold on him, smiling brightly at him. “Come on! Exam may be a few weeks away, but I wanna be sure I have everything right so I can ace this test!” You said, before racing inside the arena. 

Namjoon stood back for a second, still feeling the heat on his cheeks. He took a step forward to join you, only to accidentally step on your book that you’d dropped. Kneeling down, he picked it up. Curiosity gaining the best of him, he took a peek inside. It was doodles and drawings of different creatures and spells, with little notes dotted along the sides. Still flipping through the book, he began walking towards the arena, but he stopped as he turned to a page that took him by surprise. It was a drawing of him, incompleted, but was very obviously Namjoon. He felt the heat on his face return, crawling up his ears too. Reading along the sides of the page, were your own personal anecdotes about him. Calling him all sorts of names, but also things he had said; Stuff from his lessons. You had remembered, you were trying. He just couldn’t see it.

“Ahem.” 

Namjoon’s eyes broke away from the sketchbook, meeting Diego’s gaze. The unicorn said nothing, only winking at him as he tossed his head in the direction of the arena doors. 

Breaking eye contact, Namjoon pushed open the doors, hoping you wouldn’t see the embarrassment on his cheeks. He spotted you almost immediately, talking with some other students he could only presume were your friends. Taking notice of him, you smiled at him again, and he swore he could see a twinkle in your eye-

No. No. No.

You had an exam to study for and he was your tutor. He couldn’t fraternize with you like that. However, he wouldn’t be for long if you ace that exam. . . 

“Raindreamer, let’s go!” 

[ticklygiggles]

The quietness of a library | Lisa x Jean

A/N: One commission left for @thornoisdono ! Thank you so much for your kind support! I hope you enjoy these beautiful girls being cute together, as always, I apologize if they're too ooc!

Summary: It's a quiet day at the library and Lisa is taking advantage of the moment to do a bit of her own studying, but she hadn't thought that a certain honorary knight would be keeping her company.

Words: +2k

Usually, there was always a scholar making that delicious sound every time they turned a page in one of the thick books in the library, or someone scribbling on their notebooks, taking notes about some flowers and remedies, but today was awfully quiet and it was already afternoon. Lisa thought that she would have an empty library for the rest of the day and that wasn't a bad thing for her.

During those quiet days, Lisa enjoyed doing her own reading and studies, even paying a visit to those prohibited books she enjoyed so much and that, perhaps, she had read more than once. And that was exactly what she was doing, getting lost among the letters of mountains of books, so much so that she didn't notice a certain beautiful lady entering the library until she felt an icy finger sliding down her spine.

Lisa gasped heavily and her back arched away from the touch as purple sparks accumulated on her hands. Turning around, her racing heart stopped at once as she was met by a smiling Honorary Knight.

"J-Jean?" The sparkles subsided and the buzzing of her vision died down as she relaxed again, the hairs on her arms freed from the static and returning to their usual position against Lisa's skin. "Dear archons, you startled me, dearest."

Jean grinned and she let out a playful chuckle. "I apologize, Lisa. I called your name several times, but you didn't seem to hear me. I couldn't help myself."

Lisa smiled and she shook her head fondly before placing a gentle hand against Jean's lower back to guide her to the table where she had gathered whole two piles of books.

"Today is very slow," Lisa said gently and she giggled when Jean pulled a chair back for Lisa to sit down. "Fufu, thank you, Honorary Knight- so, I just decided to do some reading on my own, but now that you're here," she said, lending Jean a book, "perhaps you could keep me some company, hmm?"

Jean took the book gladly and Lisa smiled warmly. It wasn't a secret that Jean enjoyed reading, but Lisa was sure the only things she could read were bunches of boring reports about Mondstadt's affairs, and that was not fun at all, so everytime Lisa got to lend Jean a book, (making her promise that she would return it in time to the library), Jean just greedily took it and immersed herself into the story.

Lisa saw Jean opening the book and she was absorbed into it right away, her eyes moving from side to side, her features calm. Only then, Lisa decided to also get herself busy with her own studying and both were soon in their own world, wordlessly enjoying each other's company, knees gently touching under the table.

Lisa wasn’t sure how much time had passed, in fact, it felt like she wasn’t even existing in that timeline. She was lost between yellowish pages, excitement and hunger of knowledge rushing through her body, making her skin prickle pleasantly as she scribbled rapidly and muttered words that caught her attention the most. She was not there, with Jean, she was somewhere else between prohibited pages and black magic, and flowers and elemental theories so, when she felt fingers caressing her knee, it was only natural that she let out that inhuman squeak, kicking her leg out under the table. 

“Jean!” She gasped, squealing again when Jean’s fingernails lightly scribbled against the sensitive skin, a big grin adorning her features. “J-Jean! Stop that, what are you doing?!” Lisa was shocked, her brain just couldn’t get used to the sensation, making her whine and kick her leg unceremoniously.

Jean giggled, easily following Jean’s knee with tickly fingers. “Now, now, Lisa. Is that the behavior someone should have in a library?” 

Lisa quickly looked up, her cheeks already feeling a little hot just at the thought that someone might have heard that horrendous noise escaping from between her lips, but thankfully, Jean was still the only intruder- ahem, the only guest inside the library. She sighed, but her relief barely lasted a few seconds before she giggled, feeling Jean’s fingernails climbing up her thigh, lightly skittering across her warm and smooth skin. 

“Stohop that! It tick-

“It tickles?”Jean asked, tracing circles around the skin. “I didn’t know our librarian was this sensitive?” 

Lisa groaned, shaking her leg under the table, “thahahat’s none of yohohour buhuhusinehess! Stohop! Je-

“Shh.” Jean stopped her fingers and placed her hand flat against Lisa’s upper thigh, her fingertips sneaking a bit under her lace stockings, making her feel a little breathless. “Lisa,” she whispered, leaning in close to Lisa’s face, their noses almost touching. “You’re being incredibly loud right now, you know? Why don’t you come back to your reading, hmm? I’m just gonna have my fun right now.”

Lisa felt her heart jumping and a soft blush blooming on her cheeks. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the book Jean was just reading, forgotten in one corner on the table. Was the book too boring? Or was Jean just in the mood to be… annoyingly playful? Lisa couldn’t resist Jean when she acted like this, it was rare, but on the few occasions it occurred, Jean was just eager to let go of his obligations as the Honorary Knight and act… like any other person would. Like a lover, like a little girl, like any other citizen in Mondstadt. 

Lisa couldn’t tell her no during these times, no matter what it cost, and today wasn’t going to be the first time either. Not when Jean’s beautiful eyes were gleaming with playful excitement and her grin was way too bright and mischievous.

Lisa’s skin was already tingling in anticipation, but she nodded, chuckling and giving Jean a little smile. “Fine,” she said, readjusting in her seat and hyper aware of the fingers brushing her thigh gently. “Just don’t do anything funny, Honorary Knight.”

Jean giggled and Lisa couldn’t deny that was a wonderful sound she rarely got to hear. She cleared her throat and tried to focus on her book one more time. Minutes passed by and at first Lisa was on edge, twitching every time Jean moved her fingers slightly, but after a few minutes she seemed to forget Jean’s evil plan as she was absorbed into her studies again - that was her mistake. 

“Ah!” Her hand quickly covered her mouth and she turned her head away from Jean, her shoulders trembling slightly with held-in-giggles as the tracing against her thigh started all over again. 

“That was quite loud, Lisa,” Jean playfully chided her. “You should be more careful.”

“I- I w-wihill.”

Jean could have her fun, that was something Lisa wouldn’t even dare to take away from her, but Lisa could also have her own, and it consisted in not giving Jean the satisfaction to see her react to those fingers eager to draw out a laugh from the librarian, but goodness was it difficult. Jean’s light touches were enough to make Lisa get the shivers all over her body. Gentle fingernails tracing up and down that bare patch of skin on Lisa’s thigh, drawing circles that zoomed out from the very center of her thigh to the sensitive inner part of it, forcing Lisa to close her legs tighter with a soft snort that she quickly covered with a cough. 

But certainly, the worst part was when her little skittery fingers moved to tickle over her stockings, the sensations growing a bit harder to bear as Jean’s fingernails easily wriggled against the soft fabric; she would slso spread her fingers out against Lisa’s knee and she couldn’t stop little giggles filtering through gritted teeth. 

“Is your knee ticklish?” Jean teased, doing it again and again until Lisa was covering her mouth again, giggling into it as her other hand reached under the table to gently bat at the offending hand.

Jean giggled too, her cheeks blushing. “Should I move somewhere else?”

Lisa didn’t say anything, but she let out a shaky breath when Jean’s hand was off her. She readjusted herself again and tried to focus back on her reading again. Was there any spell to stop one’s ticklishness? if there were none, Lisa was sure she would be the first one to create it, there must be some other poor person out there with a lover who wanted to tickle them to death. It was only right to help someone in need and-

“Eek!” Lisa squeaked, her shoulders quickly shooting up, wanting to protect her neck when she felt the soft touches there. 

“Oh no, Lisa has a ticklish neck too,” Jean taunted, finger skittering across Lisa’s neck. From side to side, against her nape and under her chin and even behind her ears. 

Lisa wanted to scream. Soft tickling was too much for her. She tried shaking her head from side to side, faking that she was stretching her neck, but no matter what, Jean would always find a way too sensitive spot to target, making Lisa almost break into laughter, but she was stronger than this, oh she was sure of it. 

“Our librarian is such a tough cookie,” Jean said with laughter in her voice as she found some terrible spots at the backsides of Lisa’s neck that had her tilting her head back. “Are you liking it so much you don’t want me to stop?”

Lisa quickly shook her head, lips pressed together and Jean simply giggled. 

Lisa felt like she was sweating. Her face was beet red and she was trembling, desperately wanting to laugh, but she. Could. Do. This. 

The tickling soon moved to her shoulders and Lisa fought a sigh of relief. More than ticklish, it felt a bit relaxing. The light touches felt still rather tingly, enough to make Lisa twitch from time to time, but otherwise it just felt exceptionally nice and Lisa kind of hoped Jean would also tickle her back like she used to do during bedtime, but Jean was in a mission and that was making Lisa lose her composure, of course. 

“Hmm,” Jean pouted. “You’re not too ticklish here,” she said, perhaps noticing Lisa’s eyes getting a bit droopy with sleep. “Does it feel nice, though?”

Lisa nodded, smiling as she took the chance to continue her reading. “It does. Would you do my back too?”

Jean giggled, but shook her head and Lisa braced herself when the tickling to her shoulders stopped, seconds passed and then a couple of minutes and Jean hadn’t done her next move. Lisa refused to look at her companion, sure that she was just trying to make Lisa feel nervous with anticipation, but it was getting too much.

“Jean,” she whined, finally looking at her. “Are you done with your little game or- AH! Wahahahait!”

“Aha! You laughed! Oops,” Jean chuckled. “I was too loud… but not as much as you.”

Lisa covered his mouth with both hands now that she was giggling and laughing as Jean’s fingers tickled her ribs. She was still doing those light tickles, fingernails scratching at the sensitive sides of her ribs and poking here and there, but that was one of Lisa’s worst spots and she couldn’t stop those embarrassing sounds as she tried to fight back Jean’s hands and also tried to muffle her laughter. 

"Jehehehahan!" Lisa laughed, twisting in her seat and sneaking glances to the library's door. "Oh, plehehease, sweehehetie! Stohohop beheing mehehean!"

“Do you give up, Lis-

“I do! Ihihi dohoho! Plehehase, stohop embahaharrassing mehehe!”

Jean laughed, apologizing right away, but her fingers kept tickling Lisa for a few more seconds, making Lisa squeak and finally uncover her mouth to properly grab at Jean’s hands and push them away from her body. 

“Y- Yohohou,” she said, trying to catch her breath, her hands holding Jean’s wrists as she looked straight at her eyes. “You are exiled from this library. For all eternity.”

Jean grinned. “It’s not my fault Lisa can’t take some tickling to her ticklish ribs- a-ah, no. W-Wahahahait!”

“This is also your punishment for making such a fuss in my precious library, Honorary Knight, I hope you’re happy.”

Jean’s laughter filled the empty library, echoing against all the walls and ringing into Lisa’s ear, making her smile tenderly at her blushy face as Jean giggled and giggled happily, barely pushing Lisa’s hands away. How dare she act so cute when-

“Ah, there you are, Jean,” Kaeya said, entering the library. “I was looking for you. I need you to sign some paper, it won’t take lo- oh… am I interrupting something?”

Both ladies looked up at him from the books they were reading. Acting as if they hadn’t been tickling each other and stopping as soon as they heard Kaeya opening the door. They tried to calm their breathing and they would blame the suffocating air in the library for their flushed cheeks if asked, but Jean didn’t give Kaeya the chance as she stood up, closing the book and placing it neatly on the table. 

“You were not. I was just doing some reading with Lisa,” she said gently, her business smile on, nothing compared to that mischievous little grin she had on while tickling Lisa. “Let’s go. I’ll be back later, Lisa, to continue… reading that book.”

“Fufu, of course, Jean. Take your time. Please close the door properly on your way out, you two.”

Both knights nodded and promptly left and Lisa let out a long sigh, feeling exhausted but happy. Her heart jumping with excitement at the promise of Jean coming back. Now she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on her studies, her head too busy thinking about Jean’s happy true smiles, the ones only Lisa could enjoy, even if she had to be tickled until she was laughing out loud in the library.

Ah, how much longer will it take for Jean to come back?

[kwanisms]

I'm back bitches

We have 12 days left of September, which means Spooky Month officially starts soon & you know what that means.

🌕 Kinktober 2023 Creature Feature 🌕

But it also means that the long overdue sequel to Did You Hear That? is coming! She's a hefty girl with just over 18k words so desktop may be the best option to read and reblog as mobile has issues with anything over 10k.

It also means, the three spin-off pieces for the Library of Illusion are coming as well as a little piece I've written for Joshua. All in time for Spooky Month!

Along with Kinktober I have a few announcements. See more under the cut!

First, I have made the decision to add NCT (all sub-units), Day6, Super Junior, & Wonho to my archive. I no longer feel inspiration to write for them and do not want anyone waiting for content for them. I hate to leave Day6's Creature Feature unfinished but, sometimes that's the way things happen. This decision is final but I reserve the right to change my mind at any time.

From now on, I will be writing exclusively for Seventeen, Stray Kids, Ateez, & TXT. My rules for Kai (TXT) remain the same: absolutely no smut. That is my son. My child. I will also only write for Yesung and Z.Tao when the inspiration comes. My brainrot for both of those men is insane.

In addition, as my masterlists for these groups continue to grow, I will be creating masterlists for individual members.

That being said, I obviously won't take down any of my posts for these new archived groups, but I will change the masterlists just a bit so navigation is a tad easier.

Second, I will start using my other blogs effective immediately. I have a lot of sideblogs.

I will be using my main to reblog everything but my writing. All pictures, gifsets, etc will be posted there from now on.

I will also be using my recs blog, which I plan to redo entirely with a new tag system.

Third, I want to remind you all that my inbox here is always open. I love receiving mail. I love talking & interacting with you.

The anon feature is on so feel free to use it however, if you use it for hate, I will turn it off again. Don't be a coward. If you're gonna be mean, don't hide behind the anon feature. Face me instead.

Fourth, I will be reviving ask games and I encourage you to participate! It can be a lot of fun.

On the topic of asks, all asks not related to ask games will be answered every Monday and tagged as ' mailbox monday 💌'

Lastly, a friendly (and not so friendly reminder respectively) that empty blogs, meaning blogs without headers, pfp, posts, etc will be soft-blocked.

Soft-blocking is blocking and unblocking a blog so it forces them to unfollow you. I will be keeping track of the blogs I soft-block in a Google Sheet and if you follow me again without at least changing your pic and reblogging a few posts, you will be hard blocked.

Hard blocking means you will not be able to interact with my content (liking or reblogging).

Now for the not so friendly reminder;

if your blog does not have an age indicator on it (i.e the year you were born, your age, etc) YOU WILL BE SOFT-BLOCKED AS WELL. IF YOU DO NOT ADD AN AGE AFTER THAT, YOU WILL BE HARD BLOCKED. I will also be keeping track of these blogs. Ageless blogs and minors are not welcome on my blog. If you have turned 18 this year, PLEASE CHANGE YOUR AGE INDICATORS ON YOUR BLOG TO AVOID BEING BLOCKED.

If I find out a follower has lied about their age, I will be adding you to a blacklist I share with Cult of Dionysus. Keep in mind, we do not seek out minors to add them to the list, we only add minors that have interacted with our nsfw content. MINORS: PLEASE DONT IGNORE OUR BOUNDARIES. If we say do not interact with our content, we mean it. We have these boundaries for a reason.

I hope you look forward to what I have planned this month and please enjoy the spooks, the thrills, and of course, the smut. Thank you for your continued support as always. See you soon~ ʕ ◦`꒳´◦ʔ — booki。

[blackwomeninrock]

Interview w/ Lynx from Old Blood

It's not often that I get to sit down and chat with the women featured on this blog, but I was fortunate enough to grab LYNX from Old Blood and ask her a few questions.

Old Blood is a metal band out of Southern California. Their most recent release is Acid Doom, which you can check out here.

And now, on to the questions!

One of the things I’m always curious about is how other black women found themselves entangled with rock music. Can you tell me a bit about how you discovered rock music and what made you want to perform rock music?

I've always been a performer - I started acting when I was 2 and music has always been my favorite medium and as I started finding my favorite kinds of music, I always enjoyed the "strong stuff" more than other sounds. But when I discovered metal, the similarities with classical music really spoke to me. As a violinist, I was drawn to the guitar solos. As a vocalist, I was drawn to the power - all this around the ages of 9 and 10. When my neighbor lent me some Metallica tapes (yeah, this was in the 80's!), I knew what musical direction I'd be taking.

How has your experience been as the frontwoman for Old Blood? Anything memorable happen while performing with this band?

Joining OLD BLOOD has been an incredible experience. The guys are great to work with. Whether we're hammering out new parts of a song in rehearsal, cris-crossing the nation in Macho Van Bandy Savage (our band van) or hitting that tricky part of that one song at that one bar - it's always fun. Some shows really stand out in my mind - ones where other women, often black women, approached me in gratitude for being who I am and doing what I do. Truly heartening moments.

What is your creative process when it comes to making albums and performing?

I'm always making notes, as I hear or "find" lyrics in my daily comings and goings. I keep these notes in a binder that comes out when we start composing the music for new songs. I leaf through these pages and listen for melodic cues that draw these lyrics off the page. The song builds from there. Before a gig, I like to do some Pilates along with some focused breathwork and vocalizations to prepare myself for the athleticism of an OLD BLOOD show.

Who are some of your favorite bands to listen to right now?

I've been deep in a Mark Lanegan phase for the last 5 years or so, much more after reading Sing Backwards and Weep, his autobiography. When we went on tour in 2021, I got it as an audiobook and his voice became an essential companion for those hours of seemingly endless travel. He passed away shortly before our 2022 tour and once more, his music, written and spoken words served as a tobacco and whisky-stained security blanket in my ear. 

Of course, LYNX can't live by Lanegan alone. Unto Others (formerly Idle Hands), out of Portland is another constant in my auditory library. The 1st 4 cds in my car's player are all theirs.

Otherwise, I love supporting the local scene and LA has an abundance of mad-talented acts that keep me out late. I saw my buddies in Formula 400 last night with Freedom Hawk, from Virginia Beach and the night before, my friend Margarita Monet and her band Edge of Paradise opened a stellar jam night in the heart of Hollywood. There's so much good stuff out there!!

What word of advice would you give to anyone thinking about joining a band or getting involved in the music industry?

Give it a go. If it's something you truly desire, that need will never leave you. It won't be ignored nor will it die. Learn as much as you can about the industry and what it takes to reach your definition of success. It's different for everyone, but just don't let that call go unanswered.

----------

You can follow LYNX on Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/lynxoldblood/

Old Blood Socials: Facebook - Instagram - TikTok - Bandcamp

[reidak-artcreature]

I made an UnVale account. It's not what I expected

UnVale is relatively new, and they sure are having a huge campaing to promote themselves recently, at least on youtube. A lot of the artist I follow there have been promoting them.

It's basically like Toyhouse or other sites to upload your characters, and it's advertised as such. But better and easier! (I'll get back to this later). It is completely free to use, and the only charges they say they will make will be on transactions made on the platform.

Creating an account is pretty easy, they just ask for usename, email and password. But oh boy, did that password give me trouble. Kept saying it needed a "special character". It took me a while to find out what was going on, because I did have special characters in there. Turns out that it doesn't consider dashes as special characters. Don't know why, it's just weird.

How is UnVale different from other character websites? UnVale is the best OC site if you're looking for a simple, easy-to-use platform. We think other sites already do a great job at in-depth customization of character profiles, so that's not what we're going after. We want you to be able to focus on creating OCs, not figuring out HTML and CSS.

Oh, it's sure is simple to use. It's really straightforward to learn, no need to figure out anything, everything is on a button in front of you. Which I agree, it's nice not to have to do a dark ritual to find where or how stuff is or works. But it also means there is absolutely no customization. There are designated places where you can add images to make it look more like you, and you can change the background color for the characters' pages. And that is all. You can't change the general color theme, nor do fancy stuff on your characters pages like adding links.

Everything is completely public. There are absolutely no privacy settings. Everyone, wether they are logged in or not, can see every user profile, every character, every world and every image.

This is everything there is on the account settings:

Absolutely nothing about privacy settings. None. Nothing. Nada. Characters, images nor worlds can be hidden, only fully deleted. Likes or favorites and comments also can't be hidden or dissabled.

How will UnVale help to protect my OCs? We take reports of art theft very seriously, and any accounts caught stealing OC art will be closed. If you suspect someone is using stolen art on their profile, please submit a Support Ticket. Outside of this, our team is brainstorming ways to keep OCs protected and is open to community feedback or suggestions.

This doesn't reassure me at all. What do you mean the only measure against theft is closing accounts? That doesn't block their access from your art and characters.

The shop, transfers, and overall marketing yourself are really highlighted. That combined with that everything has to be public makes me belive that it's not a character library for yourself and friends, but a marketplace to display your characters adopts and commissions and get bussiness and connections. Nothing wrong with that, by the way. It just wasn't what I was expecting from what I had seen and heard. There are probably a lot of people who will find it really helpful and useful. But it's not for me.

I won't be using it for now. Maybe is the future I change my mind, or they change or add features for privacy, but I don't see any reason to use it right now. It has tons of stuff I don't want, and almost none that I like or want.

[montcumbry-gaytor]

A Bullet with Butterfly wings p6

A/N : new chapter baybee ily so much ty for reading I might make a chapter index so I don't have to keep linking all my chapters individually 💔

A/N : Pronouns are He/Him

A/N : FEM ALIGNED DNI

WARNINGS : TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF THIS SHITS ADORABLE

You felt groggy, your hips aching, your hair a mess and your body littered in bruises and hickey's, the most distinguishable from your point of view being two very reddish-purple handprints on either of your hips.

You moved to sit up, using your hands to carry your weight, back hurting as you sat yourself up, recollecting memories of the night, your face flushing.

You eyed around your bedroom, frowning as your room felt empty without Eric, but all of the clothes in your floor had been picked up, and you heard the faint sound of your washer running.

"Oh- lay back down, you'll hurt yourself." You heard, watching as Eric came through your bedroom door with a bag, and for the first time, you saw his unpainted face.

"Wow.." you hummed, adoring his features, he looked cuter than you thought.

"Hm?"

"Nothing, you just look even sexier without your makeup."

He chuckled at your comment, setting the plastic bag on the counter as he guided you back to lay down on your bed.

"I left a lot of bruises, I'm sorry." He sighed, looking almost upset with himself.

"It's alright, I liked it"

You hummed, cupping his face and bringing it down to peck his lips.

"what's in the bag?"

You asked, nodding over to the prophesized bag that lay in all it's glory on your table.

"A few things, don't ask me how I got it though."

He laughed out, walking back over to the bag and digging through it, grabbing a orange juice bottle and bringing it to you.

"If you rarely come outside you have to get vitamin D somehow."

"I got your Vitamin D last night, but thank you."

Taking a sip of your new drink as you eyed over at him, who rolled his eyes at the joke, but smiling nonetheless.

"I don't think I'll be able to open the library after last night, it hurts to even sit down."

You sighed, closing your bottle and sitting it on your nightstand, eyeing your balcony, you had realized how long it's been since you'd smoked, but you decided not to think of it as to not provoke the habit again.

"Eric?"

You called out, gesturing for him to come sit on the bed, watching him comply as he sat down.

"I hate to spring this on you but I want to know.."

You felt your heart waver, feeling bad to even say this.

"I want to make sure that what we did wasn't something one time before you ditch me like you never existed."

Eric shook his head at the thought, leaning over to press a chaste kiss to me your forehead.

"It's different, I never thought I'd exist like this, not only, dead but, I thought I'd spend my life with Shelly until I was old and saggy, but I like the thought of spending my death with you."

You teared up a little at his words, trying so hard not to show it.

"oh fuck you."

You huffed, pushing yourself up, pressing your lips to his, tanging your hands in his hair.

"you are the cheesiest man I've ever met."

You sighed as you pulled away, pressing your forehead to his, eyes fluttering shut as he took the pads of his thumbs and wiping tears from your tired eyes.

"As much as I appreciated you cleaning me up last night, I need a shower."

Slumping onto Eric's figure, he took it upon himself to pick you up, cradling you in his arms and bringing you to your bathroom and sitting you on your counter.

He made quick work of making a bath, rolling up his sleeves and tying his wavy hair into a ponytail as he picked you back up and sat you in the bath, warm water attacking your bruises, soothing the ache.

You two kept the silence, you appreciated his works as he washed your hair, body, taking care of you, leaving little kisses on your shoulder as he wrinsed your hair off.

He made quick work of washing your body, wrinsing it off and leaving you for a quick second to grab a towel and pulling you out of your bath, supporting you as you stood on the bath mat.

He took his time to dry your body and hair, wrapping the towel around your body, leaving you once more to retrieve clean clothes, coming back with breifs, basketball shorts you'd used as pajamas, and a very large band t-shirt.

He dressed you, brushed your hair, everything he could to take care of you, you felt like a porcelain doll in gentle hands.

Soon you found yourself cuddling Eric on your bed, chatting about simple things as it came later and later in the day, sharing more things about your life.

You felt open, cared for, warm in the cold of the city.

"Fun little fact, I was in a band."

Eric tipped, explaining he was the guitarist and lead singer for the group, talking about his friends in the band aswell.

"I expect to have merch at some point."

"That is very doable."

"Better be."

You spent the night in each others arms, the bruises already fading away with the much needed rest.

The sky turned dark quicker than you expected, exhaustion hitting you.

"Just go to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up."

Eric said, kissing your forehead, you leaned into his touch, nodding with a whisper of an 'ok' curling into him, he oddly smelled of nature and gasoline.

'a fucking wildfire.'

A/N : this one was a little short but I felt it was necessary </3 Eric and Salem don't need to be attacked or have smex this time

[poisonsage808]

alrightie, alrightie, here I come with my ship request:

can I please get a romantic ship for myself, pretty please? thank you!

I go by she/her and I am bisexual

for fandoms I am fine with either HOTD or GOT, whoever you think will fit better.

I am average height and with an average body (and a feature on myself that I don't really like are my hips dips). I wear glasses (as I tend to see all the world blurred without them) and I do look every inch the Clark Kent aesthetic of the good-hearted nerd. I have brown eyes and I dyed my hair to be a more orange-y brown (does that make sense? but it's a middle way between straight up red hair and brown). I also tan a lot in the summer (except my face, since I am always holding a book over it, whenever I got to he beach).

when I am not writing, cursing Tumblr or having exam, I enjoy reading, watching TV series and crafting beads necklaces and bracelets since I can't stay still unless I am doing something with my hands; I enjoy putting on makeup and find it quite relaxing and for the sake of my own health I need to start every morning with my four steps skincare routine.

I'd describe myself as the anxious girlie that has this scary aura but really hasn't tried to communicate with anybody because she is scared of making a fool of herself. I am a perfectionist with a pendant for rules and routines, although I can be quite clumsy and totally forgetful as I am always stuck into my own reality. I enjoy creating, whether it is in writing, crafting or using my bullet journal. I am an INFP and a scorpio sun, pisces moon and libra rising (and I live by that religiously)

I enjoy: the color purple, being on time, academic validation, new books, old vintage stores in the open air and nice overpriced cafes (although I shouldn't drink it because 1) I don't like the taste, 2) it's bad for the anxiety), and one day I'll just make good on my promise to either buy a bookstore and sell books while I appear as the mysterious and edgy shop clerk or disappear in the woods to write my own novels and support myself economically.

I dislike: pushy people, late people, and I can tell from a mile whether somebody is fake or not; I also don't forgive and forget easily, although I am extremely non-confrontational (to the point of discomfort). I dislike also ignorance and arrogance (although I think that to be confident is a good thing, putting others off for the sake of making yourself better is a red flag to me).

aesthetically my friends would describe me as either the pastel Taylor Swift girl or the light academia overworked student.

fun facts about me:

everybody finds it strange that I am a girly girl who likes also sports (such as Motorsport and F1), but I enjoy watching sports either alone or with my family and it's a bonding thing among me and my sister.

I had and still have an obsession with anything mythological and it influenced greatly the career path that I took (not me on Saturday wandering in the children's section of a bookstore and considering buying this whole cute book about myths across the world) (the only reason why I didn't was because I didn't know where to put it).

I was born on the 31st of October and I am still convinced that one day I'll pull a YA main character move and reveal secret magical powers (I am joking, I am joking but being a telepath sounds cool, although my only superpower right now is overthinking everything)

alright, so I think that this is enough and I can't wait to see ho I get!

thank you again for this chance and have a lovely day!

-𝒜𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉𝒾

i see you as a sheltered highborn lady (in a good way!) you have an ability, let’s call it, you’re all too aware of the bad in people. you can see the scales being tipped on one direction or the other. it might make you a tad pessimistic at times. it’s exhausting for sure. but your houses keep has a library with all the books you could want, all the spare time and all the material for your crafts. you’re spotted from afar. from your auburn hair to the way you observe people has a certain someone thinking you’re too special to stay hidden away here. you’re stolen;

♡ i ship you with…! ♡

♡ Tormund Giantsbane ♡

• At first you’re only a good contribution to the Freefolk. That is to say literate, Tormund brings you scrolls to read before deciding if it’s worth passing them forward to Mance

• He was right to think you were special, you’re a mediator and gods know they need one from time to time. From orphaned children, full grown adults to even taller giants your presence alone starts to cease arguments

• He’s also the one to pick up on your ability, deciding whether or not they’re trustworthy on the spot, searching them for darkened auras and such. A handful of these newcomers that you’ve dismissed (re: put very little effort into getting to know), ended up being killed for one treason or the other

• Tormund’s the first to notice how weary you become afterwards and how it worsens upon meeting new faces. He may not know why, at the beginning, but he knows that you look tired and require extra energy and that means warmer blankets, less time around people, more food, MANY attempts to slip you giantsmilk. He’s very concerned, he just wants you healthy

• And happy. This man absolutely loves making you laugh! His stories aren’t particularly funny but the way he describes things and talks force you into a fit of giggles. The sound has him grinning for the rest of the day

• It doesn’t take long for Tormund to decide he likes you. He wants to steal you as his this time. He appreciates you communicate like a wildling even if you don’t see it as such. The ginger doesn’t mind standing up for you when you can’t— he really likes taking care of you but has this respect that you don’t need him to do any of it

• Tormund is whipped though, you can ask him just about anything and consider it done before the request completely leaves your mouth (The exception being he won’t do anything that would jeopardize Mance’s cause)

• For example Tormund, at your request, pitched up a tent. You have big plans for this area apparently. The Freefolk can come and borrow or swap books, you plan on offering to teach them to read— you went on and on about this… library. He may not understand why it’s important to you but he doesn’t really need to know more than that. “You want this? You’ll have it.”

• Tormund may not be able to give you that noble life you’ve been accustomed to but he desperately tries to keep you happy. He’ll fight to get you a sliver of normalcy on the other side of that fucking wall