#gonna write my stupid little stories and try to find something to live for

[ghoopyghoo]

please i'm begging. give me the headcanons of the little gay army men. please distract me from all this bad just wanna read about the big masked one kissing the little mohawk one

[moonybug444]

(sorry for my bad english!) hii! I found your account and i want to tell you that your stories are, like, a GREAT comfort, the few you have are, it sounds weird but, in my opinion reading stories (or writing) about abusive relationships is an escape route to avoid falling into those relationships in real life, I mean, i read them and i get the adrenaline because of reading it instead of living them dhfjkshfsk so yes, they are also very, very well written <:

can i ask for a story where Connie is a little older thanreader, and constantly manipulates her with the excuse that he knows better and reader believes him, because, for a long time, he was the only older figure she had, something like that, I don't know. , bonus if reader cries hysterically in his arms (his fault, of course, he slapped her or something)

i really agree with your take on the whole writing about traumatic relationships because that’s how i feel. i’ve been thru so so much and i know it’s different but this is most definitely how i cope, im glad someone else can relate to me especially during these times i’ve felt so alone💗 you english is beautiful by the way, thank you 😊

tw: grooming - reader was 17 when she meant 24 year old connie / mental abuse / physical abuse - from connie and from readers dad / very mean and manipulative? connie / unestablished relationships / not proofread

such a baby

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“really thought you were over that stupid shit y’know, (name)?” he looks down at you, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed and spits, “you’re still just a fucking kid.”

he hates it when you cry. you know he does, he knows he does, so you don’t know why it feels like him making it happen is always his main goal.

you sit there silently looking up at him as he scrolls on his phone. after a couple minutes he puts it down and looks down at you.

“you’re gonna have to find a place to go.” your eyes widen all the more and you feel your heart beat quicken. it scares you when he says stuff like that. find a place to stay? where could you possibly go? you feel like you’ve been with connie so long, he’s taken care of you for so long…

“w-what?” you get up suddenly, trying to ease your way into his lap. you’re get even more nervous even harder when he meanly pushes you away, you pretty eyes water.

“c-connie..! hic wh-what— how will i—?” you can’t even finish your sentence you’re so shaken. you really can’t help it, you can’t imagine any life without connie. how could you? he’s the one that took you in, he’s the one that knows exactly what to do when you don’t, he tells you what to do when you’re just about to make the wrong choice. he’s shown you what love is when nobody else could.

while you’re breaking down crying you can tell connie’s losing his patience by the second, he’s getting up waving his hands all type of ways getting all in your face, yelling all types of nonsense.

“dammit (name), shut the fuck up, y’know i hate that crybaby shit, go fix yourself before i do it for you” when you don’t shut up he doesn’t give you a second warning, just slaps you clean across your face. you damn near fly across the room from the impact, connie’s just so much stronger than you.

“—oww ..!” your body shakes as you try to lift yourself up, your crying even harder now. “y-you’re a liar…! you said—you said hic you were d-done hitting me—!”

he stomps over to you, eyes wide and mad while he starts dragging you by your little arm to the front door, “who the fuck do you think your talking to?! i don’t owe you shit you know that, little girl?!”

connie goes to open the front door, “i’m fucking tired, (name) i’ll sleep like a fucking baby without your fucking crying tonight—”

when you don’t stop he freaks out a little more. he hates when you don’t listen.

“think i fucking won’t?” he gets louder, “think i won’t put you out this fucking house, right now?! i don’t give a fuck what time it is—!”

connie drags you back to your shared bedroom and starts ripping your clothes out wherever he can find them and putting them in so random bags, while you cry and hyperventilate. he doesn’t give one fuck, to him you deserve this shit. you’re always running your mouth.

“who got you all this shit, huh?!” he moves on to the vanity and starts packing all your cute little jewelry, breaking some in the process.

he stops for a second and just looks down at you. veins popping out of his neck as he screams, with the bag he’s stuffing all your belonging in tightly gripped in his hand and that mean look of sternness in his eyes, you realize just how how much older connie really is. just how scary he is. with him being 7 years older than you and all, you’ve always put connie on the high horse, always seen it as a flex. but you don’t think you’ve ever really seen it until now. how truly scary he can be.

“you wanna go back, (name)?” he takes a deep breath. “you wanna go back to that shit everyday? living in that fucking house, getting treated like some fucking shit?”

you sob when he finally lets go of your now bruised arm. he goes to sit on the bed.

you were 17 and connie had just turned 24. it was late out when you ran away from home. you were sick of it. your dad was terrible to you, all the yelling and screaming and the bruises—you couldn’t take it anymore. connie was one of your friends older cousin, you had meant him at her birthday party and you think you fell in love. he just seemed so…mature. at the end of the night when he saw you all alone, he went up to you and asked if you were alright. turns out your dad was pissed so he didn’t pick you up. connie couldn’t be more excited to hear that shit. cute little shy teenager, and she’s got daddy issues? he hit the jackpot. he ended up taking you home and giving you his number, in case you ever, “needed anything.”

you’d call connie whenever, no matter what. he always knew exactly what to say.

one night your dad blacked your eye and you called connie. connie showed up 8 minutes later and came barging in, beating the shit out of your dad. that was the last night you heard from your dad and the last night you ever weren’t by connie’s side. you’ve been living with him ever since. you’ll never forget that first night he held you in his bed. he whispered about how everything would be ok and how much he’d take care of you. and you believed it.

it’s been only 2 years since then and connie’s still that ever so cool senior that you look up to. you love connie to death and you don’t think you ever won’t. he knows you’re completely dependent on him now too, he thinks he'll always use it to his advantage.

“you’re such a baby.” you look up at him and he nearly melts, he wants to fucking ruin you. you eyes are all glossy and swollen from crying, your lips are stilly wobbly from the wailing, and your tears—don’t even get him started on the fucking tears.

connie thinks about how perfect you are.. you’re already as naive as you could possibly be, but the age gap just puts it more in his favor.

you look in his eyes to see if that gaze is still there…you know, the loving one even after everything, and it is.

“i love you….” you whisper it like it’s a curse, anxious for his answer.

connie smiles and kisses your forehead watching you light right back up just from the small gesture.

“i know you do.”

[cloveroctobers]

COMEDY — SYDNEY ADAMU [Summer Writings]

A/N: always imagined writing for Syd and I guess the time has finally arrived…only took three seasons but my girl deserves better and better is what she’s gonna get from me! This piece is set mostly in the final episode of season three as a heads up ❤️

S|N: there was a prompt list that I wanted to go off of to use for you the reader but now I can’t find it so I’m just going off the little I remember. Which is: you being a cyclist.

WARNINGS: language, self-doubt, neighbor trope, + mentions of sexual harassment.

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Having a new neighbor was interesting to say the least. You didn’t think she was fond of you after running into her twice, sneaking in the first time and nearly running your bike over her feet as she seemed to be in a rush herself. She looked as if she was the type of person that if she knew that she had to be somewhere by a certain time, she would be there much earlier than needed.

You on the other hand? Operated on your own time, not sticking to routines as much after your quest to turn into a pro cyclist fell through, and you were stuck working a shitty retail job down at the dollar general (shut out to your general studies degree, your mother did aways say you should have studied something more valuable although she didn’t go to college herself and felt like her money was wasted on you compared to your older sister who lived in South Africa as a zoologist)…where you basically came in when you wanted since the manager never knew how to schedule the four of you—yes—FOUR of you properly. You did what you needed to survive, just like anyone.

The second time you got her attention was when you buzzed her apartment, annoyingly on her day off, contemplating about the contract agreement in the emptiness of her living room.

“Uh…yeah?” She pressed.

“Oh good! You’re home. I thought I was going to have to bug Anita instead and she’s the last one I want to talk to.”

“Who’s Anita?” Sydney paused before asking although she had a feeling who, “And who am I speaking with?”

“She’s on our floor,” you shift from one leg to the other feeling the violent urge to pee, “with the big 80’s curly hair, she talks to herself and at times it is a little concerning and she’s a bit of a Karen. You’ll know once you see her when she’s constantly asking if you live here after seeing her a handful of times and as for me? I’m one of your best neighbors, Ms. Lady with the Colorful hair scarfs.”

“It’s Sydney.” She replies and you nod your head finding that name to be fitting, “Oh yeah, the other guy with the abnormally big octopus tattoo on his cheek told me about you. You always forget to bring your keys, right?”

Oscar.

You thought to yourself in irritation, “Oscar raw dog’s his crocs, so you shouldn’t take his word for anything.”

Sydney laughs, finding this apartment building much more entertaining (so far) than the one she left previously behind but never her dad. “Am I sensing a little tension there or…”

“That’s another story for another time! Can you please buzz me in or else I’m going to have to go right on this sidewalk and I really don’t need another public indecency charge.”

You were honest, Sydney could admit but she also didn’t want to be the one to let a stranger, if you were a stranger into the building if you weren’t really who you said you were you know?

“…how do I know you really live here and aren’t just stalking one of the other tenants?” Sydney quizzed, trying to remember just what you looked like in passing.

“Because stupid Oscar told you I like to forget my keys on purpose?” You remind while Sydney slowly realizes this, although you can’t see this revelation on her face you keep going, “I live at the end of the hall from you, I even used to date Oscar’s sister, but she cheated on me and tried to gaslight me and then took the dog—which honestly looked like a fucking dust bunny in the dark so I’m not really all that upset about it—

“What kind of dog?” She chortles, but the curiosity is also evident beneath it.

You started dancing to the beat of The Fresh Prince in your head, which somehow always worked when you were about to piss on yourself—apologies for being unladylike or unpersonlike but hey when you have to go you have to go, “some Asian breed that starts with a P…Pekingese? Yeah Pekingese!”

“…I don’t know what the hell that is?” Sydney pats at her scalp.

“It’s like a failed experiment of a pug and Pomeranian!” You inform, “It’s actually awful looking, and my know it all sister would scold me for being discriminatory to animals but whatever! Um, How else can I convince you person in the nice cold building while I’m out here at risk of getting a heat stroke?! The basement is horror level scary so if you have to go down there—make sure you have somebody with you or just don’t? There’s also a squeaky floorboard in the middle of our hallway, a weird stain on the wall that’s shaped like a top hat?” You ramble.

A buzzing noise sounds right after your last word and you deeply exhale, yanking the front door open to hold with your backside while you rolled your bike in. “Thanks neighbor! Hope to run into you soon.”

“Ah, dont mention it!” You hear Sydney call, “and maybe invest in a clip for your keys?”

“With the way my cobweb bank account is set up? Not likely, girl! Timmy the toilet is calling my name! Catch you later!”

Sydney shakes her head, letting go of the button to glance at her open laptop and sigh choosing to head into the kitchen instead for some frozen waffles for dinner.

Despite the fact that Sydney is hardly at her new apartment, she finds a paper bag with handles on her door knob when she gets in one night. Carefully she peeks in it while opening the door to her apartment, once inside she pulls out a new satin scarf. It’s a golden yellow with white polka dots on it with a note attached.

~Welcome to the building + thanks for letting me in the other day. I think you’ll like this? If not? I’d never know! —your neighbor ____at 84H.

Which started something between you two without really knowing each other. All you knew was each other’s names now, you had handwriting that honestly resembled calligraphy—something Sydney would have never guessed you were into but you also picked up that when you did see Sydney, she seemed to have a scarf covering her braids majority of the time. She wore them well so you thought why not? It wasn’t anything overly expensive but it was thought that counts?

~What’s your go to midnight snack? —your neighbor Syd @ 84D.

Was on a lime green post it on your door days later. It became your thing, leaving little notes every couple of days on each others door, in a way it became a silent message to let each other know that you both were still around even if you never had the chance to officially be face to face.

So you attempted to draw a horrible picture of what that may be and then drew an x right over it. You weren’t crafty in that way, writing a message beside the terrible picture saying: a struggle meal. A grilled cheese but jelly as the cheese and jalapeño chips. Are you a board game person or video gamer?

Days seemed to get hectic after that in the both of your lives that the post it game seemed to die down just a little. Summer hours seemed to increase since the two teenagers that you worked alongside of preferred to be outside rather than inside—you didn’t blame them. One of them ended up quitting, the other lied and said they sprained their ankle but their Instagram said they were really hanging out at the river, so it was down to you and your elderly coworker Janice, who was actually in chronic pain, and then your manager was “temporarily,” on leave after a customer complained of sexual harassment.

The look you and Janice shared said enough, you believed the customer.

So now you had a new manager from fucking North Dakota…you had no clue what was even out there and they had a whole different approach. They had a neighborly spirit that you wished the scarce people at your building had—except for Sydney of course. The new manager was actually out on the floor, greeting customers and asking if they needed any help! They even gave you and Janice a choice during your eight hour shift, you can alternate between the register and stocking or just pick your role for the shift. They also kept checking in making sure the both of you were well mentally (ha!) and if you needed to take a ten minute break before your actual lunch.

She was a dream but definitely wouldn’t last.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” The North Dakotan asked, already in her pick up truck as you fumbled around with the chains to your bike.

Janice already beeped her horn twice in her Volkswagen Beetle, speeding out of the parking lot with Fleetwood Mac flowing from the windows. You snickered, hand waving in the air as you turned back to the chains, finally getting it unlocked.

“Thanks for the offer but one thing about me, I love this bike more than anything and as long as I can still ride it? I’ll choose this over any car or train any day.”

The manager smiles, “alright then, you have a good night. Get home safe, will you?”

“I’ll try my best.”

You’re limping towards your apartment, it’s late and the sky had this milky fog to hide the sense of dread—or was it grief that sat in your heart? You’re just at your door, body sore, spokes ruined from your bike but as bad as you felt you heard the huffing and sniffing from your left.

Picking up on the braids right away, you know it’s Sydney and it doesn’t appear that she’s having a good night although she’s dressed as if the night was supposed to be. Leaving your bike against your door, you pause, debating if you wanted to get involved or if she would even want to bothered with you while she’s having a moment. You use the act of your post it’s as the okay to be neighborly and check on your neighbor at the end of the hall.

The hallway feels like forever to get to Sydney but her round eyes widen in bewilderment as she feels you groaning to plop down next to her.

“Oh my god,” she gasps as she scans over your features with damp under eyes, “…w-what happened to you?”

Lolling your head to meet her gaze, you grin at her, ignoring the sting of the scrape on your chin and say, “I might have saw hell not too long ago.”

Sydney shifts, using the back of her hand to wipe at her nose, “I—don’t know how to respond to that.”

You explain, “Well apparently we all have to go somewhere—if you believe in that kind of thing. And I guess the person upstairs said let me show you as I turned into a speed bump.”

“You were hit by a car?!” Sydney yells, although her own head felt like someone was letting the air out of a balloon and her heart felt like it pulsating in a way that was probably too slow, with her veins feeling like the whipping of traffic on the freeway.

You knew that look, even had some pill bottles that actually became decor pieces on your bedside table that were supposed to help calm the track runner fuzzies inside to relax…but the concern was evident on her face yet it wasn’t really about you tonight, this was your first time officially meeting and the both of you looked like shit. Well maybe you more so but Sydney definitely felt like it.

“Worse,” you say searching your back pocket for the rolled up pack of gummies, “A electric scooter, that looked a whole lot like my teenage little shit of a co-worker who’s been out on injury.”

You held out the gummy bears to Sydney, lifting your gaze to meet dark brown hues once more. There’s laughter that bubbles in her chest as she envisions it, her large front teeth poked out behind her lips.

“I don’t mean to laugh at you—

“Eh, I do it all the time! Glad I could be of service to you.” You tip your imaginary hat, “And you know what he had to nerve to say to me after we both skidded across the street? That I scuffed up his kicks, when he was on the wrong side of the road!”

Sydney cupped her mouth, other hand holding onto a green gummy bear, “No! That’s so wrong.”

“If he ever decides to come back to work…I’ve got something for him.”

“A hospital bill?”

“Oh no! Hospitals give me the ick. All medical people do.”

Sydney tilts her head to the side at this, unsure what to fully make of that but somehow understood, however felt like she should still be slightly concerned that you didn’t get yourself checked out! considering how scrapped up and how your hair was basically mangled. Also who knew what you looked like underneath your summer attire…Sydney was no doctor but you seemed kinda careless!

“I’m afraid to ask.” Sydney bites off the head of the candy.

“Stick him on the register and sneak out for the day once the lines start to pick up. I hate to do it to our new manager since she seems cool but…it’s what he deserves.” You tighten your eyes wickedly.

Sydney slowly nods her head at this and snorts, “where do you work?”

“Dollar general,” you say with a shrug, “you?”

Sydney deeply sighs, “I’m a chef.”

“Oh-ho! Chef Sydney. I knew there was something special about you, neighbor.” You state.

Sydney shakes her head, “No, it’s not anything really.”

“Are you kidding? That’s admirable! Unless…that’s what has you out here when the party is clearly inside?” You connected the dots, hearing some laughter beyond her door, quickly analyzing her face and kicking yourself for not keeping your inside thoughts to yourself in that moment.

Sydney pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and closes her eyes.

“You know…you never did get back to me on you being a board game person or a video gamer.” Your attempt to ease her anxieties was a nice gesture, really.

Sydney took her time (which you were patient to), sucking air in between her teeth and digging her palms into her eye sockets, “uh…board game. My favorite is: Sorry!”

Your eyes turn into slits at that and Sydney, slowly removes her hands from her eyes to look at you. “Really?”

“What? What’s wrong with sorry?”

You start to raise your hands in surrender but stop your movements as your everything aches, “Nothing. I would have thought clue, connect four, maybe even scrabble?”

“Scrabble?” Sydney scoffs, “I rather eat a block of blue cheese without a glass of water.”

Scrunching up your lips at that you quiz, “are you lactose intolerant?”

“Only the weak minded are.”

“Oh?! That’s not very empathic of you.”

You both match each other’s stares but you crack a smile first before Sydney follows through with a burst of laughter.

“You’re judging me? when you’re the one who isn’t empathic to your stomach and makes a grilled jelly sandwich stuffed with jalapeño chips of all things?” Sydney holds her stomach as she laughs.

You’re laughing with her while arguing, “I never specified if I stuffed it or not. It could have been on the side, thank you.”

Which only makes her laugh harder, the both of your shoulders touching as the sound echoes throughout the hall. There’s tears streaming down her cheeks again for different reasons while your stomach clenches with humor.

Of course that is broken up by someone clearing their throat. Both of you turn to Oscar who’s standing there holding his groceries.

“What’s so funny tonight ladies?”

You stop laughing so you can reply, “that outfit you thrifted.”

Oscar scowls, “now I see why my sister left you.”

“Fuck off! You’re probably the main one that supports her OnlyFans career.”

Sydney gasped at that while Oscar sent you a middle finger, leaving you two alone as he travels down the opposite hall to his apartment.

Glaring at him, he casts another glance in your direction and you do the honors of placing your own middle finger right against the lips you kissed at him. He quickly looks away, nearly throwing himself into his apartment with a slam of his door.

Leaning into Sydney again, you both laugh until it’s hard to breathe and that feeling is both familiar on both ends. Once you catch your breaths, you lean away to hold out your unscraped hand for her to shake, “Hey, Chef Sydney. It was nice talking to you and meeting you.”

“Likewise.” She gives a small smile while shaking your hand before you groan and moan getting back to your feet.

And she stays outside a little longer, mostly to collect herself and watch you make it back to your front door and battered bike. You send a peace sign as a goodnight, limping into your apartment after softly clicking your door shut.

Sydney sits, clasping her hands together thinking over that small moment, not realizing how important it would later be as the days continued on.

“There you are,” The British voice catches her attention and she takes his hand as he helps her to her feet.

Luca halts her movements, checking in with Sydney as she tries to brush away what that was from her face, although it clearly wasn’t something she could ignore as the problem was already on the surface.

She begins to follow Luca back into the party, stopping in the door way as she peeks back at your door, already thinking about what to say to you next on a lime green post it, while letting some laughter shine in her eyes.

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Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

[leilani-lily]

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 1)

... So this idea for an Alastor x reader (kinda?) story popped in my brain, and has refused to leave me no matter how hard I try.

Have I written fanfiction recently? Hell no.

Do I even know how to write for an AroAce character? No but I'm gonna do my damndest to represent him properly (and also relying on outer sources so I'm not offending anyone).

Do I feel like a complete fool for being sucked back into the fanfiction world and re-entering with a freakin Hazbin Hotel fic? ABSOOOO-FREAKIN-LUTELY.

But here we are. The writing gods have spoken. And they have declared that I write this story out so my poor brain can focus on other things like work.

Figured I'd share so it's just not on my computer all lonely. Will be a slow burn so fair warning. Let's be real, the deer boi needs love. But not overly romantic love. Just, someone he ends up really caring about and becoming his favourite.

SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. The hotel is looking to hire a chef to prepare meals for the staff/guests. Somehow you're hired and you begin your new life. And somehow end up becoming close to a certain Radio Demon. Word Count: 1.8 K

Chapter 1 under the cut. Enjoy I guess? ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ok, deep breaths y/n. Remember to smile.

You felt your lips curl up into a strained grin as if to fight off the nerves in your chest, your grip tightening on the flyer in your fist. This could go either two ways. One, you get the job and are able to live a life of somewhat normality. Or two, you get hung from the tippy top of the building by your own intestines. With your legs chopped off. And one of your arms sticking out of your ass.

Gotta love Hell and it’s creative subjects.

You shake your head out of those terrible thoughts, surely it wouldn’t be that bad?? When you saw the original broadcast on the 666 News, you couldn’t stop thinking how nice the Princess of Hell actually was. And building an entire hotel to help her subjects reform into something better was, perhaps a little optimistic in your opinion, but it made you admire her gumption and her love for her subjects.

So later when you found the flyer in search of a chef at the very same establishment the princess was hoping to fill… well, it somehow managed to get you all the way here. Standing at the doorsteps of the very lonely looking hotel on the hill. 

You had to admit it wasn’t the look you had imagined, but hey, this was Hell. You had seen worse. And everyone has to start somewhere. Including yourself, arm still poised ready to knock yet not yet making the motion.

You felt so stupid, you had been standing here for almost 10 minutes now just trying to get the courage to enter the damn building. You sigh to yourself and shake out the jitters. Alright, let’s just do this. Once again, you smile, puff out your chest and raise your arm high in the air, ready to strike with a newfound courage.

“Well folks, looks like the little lady is finally ready to take the leap! Will she follow through with her actions? Or will she choke and back out of the fight? Let’s tune in and find out~”

You felt your heart nearly leap out of your chest as you whip your head around to look behind you. A tall demon clad in red and ruby eyes stood behind you, a wickedly wide grin filling his face as he points what appears to be a microphone in your direction. You stare at it dumbly, then make eye contact with him again. He remains poised, half lidded eyes seeming to hold a sparkle of impish joy. His eyes flicker from you, to your raised arm, and back to you. After a embarrassingly long time of connecting the dots, you finally extend your arm closer to the door, never breaking focus on the demon behind you (you can't help but notice he raises his microphone even closer to you), and give the door a good solid knock.

“AND SHE’S DONE IT FOLKS, what a display!!” He pulls the microphone back to himself, as you continue to stare dumbfounded “The form, the elegance, it could almost make a grown Imp cry. Let's give her a hand people.” He begins to clap as a roar of applause plays from… somewhere.

You couldn’t tell if this guy was being sarcastic or genuine, but the whole absurdity of it all, plus the bundle of nerves you were feeling earlier, seemed to bubble up inside of you and you couldn't help a little snort escape. The red demon’s grin widened as he ceases his clapping, stepping closer to you as you continue to giggle.

“Ahhh now isn’t that better. A much nicer smile than the one you were faking earlier. Besides, there’s no need to be so shy my dear. This hotel is always happy to accept wayward demons looking for reformation!”

Upon hearing his words, you turn to face him and put your hands up “Oh nono, I’m not here to-”

“Ohoho~! and what’s this you have here?” Before you can finish your sentence, the tall demon ripped the flyer out of your hand and inspected it quickly, before turning back to you. His half-lidded gaze was now round with surprise, his grin becoming even wider (which you didn’t even think was possible).

“So THAT explains the nerves from before! And here I was just thinking you were a timid little thing. But a business woman! Now that I can admire.” He smiles at you almost impressed and leans in closer, your noses almost touching.

“Tell me my dear, can you make a good jambalaya? Or perhaps a hearty gumbo with cornbread on the side~?”

You were so flustered with the speed of everything happening (plus the close proximity of this demon you had just met certainly didn’t help). All you could manage was a jumbled “Uhh, well yes I-!”

“WONDERFULLLL~!" He straightens up again and you sigh with relief. “I’ll be sure to test you on such skills. But for now we should-”

The front doors of the hotel suddenly burst open and a short gray female stands before you, with long silvery hair and an eyepatch. She looks at you for a moment, before turning her gaze at the red demon and giving him a scowl.

“Alastor, what the HELL took you so long, you should’ve been back ages ago. And quit creeping out new potential clients.” Her gaze adverts back to you, expression softening ever so slightly, “Seriously, if he’s bothering you-” “Oh Vaggie my dear, no need to be so hostile. I was simply going over business with our newest chef!” he brings his long fingers up behind your shoulder and pulls you in close against his chest, making you yelp a moment before regaining composure. You could sense this so-called 'Vaggie' demon tense, eyes flickering between the two of you. You felt as if your brain was sputtering to catch up with the current conversation (he WORKS here??!)  before finally realizing what he had just called you. You sneak a look at him, and he gives you a quick wink before focusing back on the female before him. 

“Now be a doll and have Nifty tidy up one of the rooms, preferably one of a reasonable size and close to the kitchen. And call upon Charlie as well, she’ll DEFINITELY want to meet our newest addition!”

The female in front of you shot a glare at Alastor (you quickly noted these two did not seem to get along), but then flicked her gaze back at you. After a moment, she sighed and turned back into the building as she followed the male demon’s orders. You couldn’t help but notice how Alastor’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly as a chuckle escaped his lips, static humming ever so louder in amusement. He himself began to walk into the hotel, guiding you along with him.

"Now then. We’ll have to introduce you to everyone, as well as get you to fill in the proper paperwork, give you a proper tour of the place and-!”

“Wait wait,” you stop walking, causing him to halt. You notice a slight twitch in his eye and his hand squeezes you for a moment. He doesn’t like to be interrupted, duly noted. You take a breath.

“Sorry, uh for interrupting” That seemed to please him. “But does this mean… I got the job?? You don’t need a resume or a test or…?”

Alastor let out a guffaw of amusement “Why of course my dear! As long as you remain true to your word of being able to cook a good New Orleans dish, that’s all the proof I’ll need! There hasn’t been many a demon coming here interested in the job, so I say your timing couldn’t be more perfect!”

Well that was the easiest damn interview you’ve ever done. You felt yourself exhale a sigh of relief as you smile up to the tall demon. 

“Wow, that’s… that’s amazing, thank you so much.” He gave you a half lidded smirk, clearly enjoying being praised “So… does this make you my boss, Mr…?” 

You heard the sound of a record screech as his eyes widened in surprise. Hand finally leaving your shoulder and placing it on his own chest he began to laugh heartilly, a laugh track playing in the background. You stood there confused for a moment before he finally responded.

“Ohhh my goodness me, my mother would be rolling in her grave if she ever heard about this. How rude of me to be so forward without properly introducing myself!” One minute he was standing right beside you, and then the next he had sunken like a shadow into the floor, only to appear in front of you a few steps ahead. With grace and suave you didn’t realize he possessed, he gave a small hand flourish before bowing in front of you.

“I am Alastor, also known as the Radio Demon. I happen to be the Hotel’s Facility Manager, but you’ll find Miss Morningstar is the real ringleader around here,” You notice the corner of his lip twitch at that last remark, but you pay no mind to it. “If you ever have any questions or concerns, do not hesitate to reach out to me.” You smile and dip yourself in your own little curtsy as he straightens up.

“My name is y/n, and I’ll be sure to do my best to serve you and this hotel, sir.” Alastor seemed to hum with approval as he looks down at you. “I guess I just have one more question for you, if that’s alright.” 

“Why of course dear y/n, whatever would it be?”

“Well, I uh…” You feel yourself becoming flustered at the question, and the radio demon seemed to notice. Cocking a head to the side, he takes a step forward, opening his arms into a friendly gesture.

“Come now dearest, you can ask me anything! If we’re going to be working together, we have to be honest with each other~” You look up at him and sigh, knowing he was right. With a gulp you straighten your back and wear a serious expression.

“How long did you see me standing by the door?” 

Alastors face didn’t waver, it was hard to tell what was going on in his mind. Then his smile grew into what looked like an amused, smug expression before answering.

“The whole time.”

You groaned and felt your head slap against your hand, making Alastor burst into laughter yet again at your expense. He was there watching the entire time?? Satan’s Ass you felt like such an idiot. Was he waiting for you to move so he could get in the building?? The more you thought about it the more you wanted to sink into the floor and die, for a 2nd time. The radio demon wiped a stray tear from his eye.

“Ohhhh y/n, what a riot you are. I can already tell that this is going to be fun~”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

First chapter hoorayyy ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡ Not sure how often I'll be updating, hopefully soon as I'm currently inspired. Thanks for reading thus far!FIRST (You're here!) PREVIOUS (Doesn't exist ( • ᴗ - ) ✧) NEXT

[applejuicefruit]

can you write about kylian mbappé randomly finding out that you vape cause you were accidentally seen at the background of a insta story? like first he’s insanely mad when he found out but at the end he’s a little ok with it as long as you do a lung check every 6 months

kylian is my mom in this story 🥲

kylian mbappe x reader

Light it up

You were currently out with your best friends, having fun and taking pictures when suddenly you heard your telephone ring. Kylian, your boyfriend was texting you and you had no idea why so you decided to check very quickly.

“Where are you?” he texted you first.

“Are you safe?” he texted you second.

“Come home!” he texted you third.

“Are you in a gang or something?��� he texted you again and you got a bit worried, he never acted this strange so something was definitely going on.

“Girls I’m so sorry to leave you like this but something just came up and I have to go home, I think Kylian’s sick…” you said, unsure of what to tell them because you had no idea of what was going on.

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll catch up another day, go and take care of that big boy!” one of your best friend teased you and you thanked them.

The drive back home was slow due to the big traffic in Paris and anxiety was eating you inside, thinking of why Kylian was acting so weird around you.

Once you got home you looked for Kylian, finding him on the couch with his phone in his hands.

“Kyky are you okay? You scared me, I thought you were hurt or something…” you said going towards him but he stopped you and showed you his phone.

“What is this?” he asked, showing you the picture two of your friends took an hour earlier.

“My friends?” you asked him a bit confused. Why was he acting so weird?

“Yes. And who’s behind your friends?” he asked again and once you zoomed in you saw yourself in the picture too, doing absolutely nothing but vaping.

Shit. Kylian didn’t know about it and now you were completely fucked.

“Kylian…” you tried to speak again but he stopped you.

“You smoke? How can you smoke? You know how dangerous it is? What are you? Sixteen trying to live the sex drug and rock and roll life?” he said, the situation quickly escalating as he was making it a huge drama, bigger than what it was.

“Kylian, first of all calm down! I’m not smoking, I was vaping, it’s different…second of all, calm down! You’re acting like it’s the end of the world!” you said a bit irritated.

“Because it could be the end of the world! You could die! Smoking can cause cancer! It’s dangerous…” he said, making a big drama out of nothing.

“Kylian once again, I wasn’t smoking!” you corrected him again but he wouldn’t listen.

“It’s still dangerous! For how long have you been doing it?” he asked again.

“I started four years ago…” you whispered.

“You were only seventeen! Are you crazy? Why? You’ve been doing it for all these years? Next year what? You’re gonna buy a Harley and join a motorcycle gang?” he asked seriously but you couldn’t help but laugh. He was acting like a total drama queen, in Kylian’s style.

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious y/n…I thought you were more mature than this!” he scolded you.

“Kylian, first thing you’re not my mom, stop acting like her, second thing, it’s my life and I can do what I want okay? I don’t need your permission to vape if I want to and I don’t need your permission to drink if I want to okay? So stop acting like a drama queen…” you said getting mad.

He really got upset over this stupid thing?

“I’m not acting like a drama queen! It’s serious! Are you getting checked up?” he asked you again.

“Not really…listen, I’m alive and breathing and I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about it!” you got tired of this conversation.

“Of course I worry about it! I worry about you! I can’t lose you…” he said looking more apologetic.

“What? You won’t lose me Kylian…you really are a big baby you know that?” you teased him and he laughed.

“Promise me you’ll get checked! At least every three months!” he said looking more serious.

“Every three months? Are you crazy?” you laughed at him.

“Every six months or you won’t vape ever again!” he said looking like your mom, really.

“Fine…” you agreed only because you wanted this conversation to end.

“And you won’t vape in this home…nor when we’re out together or with friends, or my family, they would absolutely kill you…” he got worried again, acting like a drama queen again and you got tired of his diva behaviour.

“Fine. I promise. Now can you drop it?” you asked and he nodded.

“Thanks…” you said reaching up for your jacket and purse.

“Where are you going now?” he asked you.

“To vape!” you shouted when you were already outside the door.

“What! Not again!” he screamed at you but you only bursted out laughing at his childish and motherly behaviour.

You were definitely dating a big child.

[wafflerageface]

Alright since there’s now a horse loose in a hospital I’m gonna need to turn off my brain and enter survival mode again. Which means I’m about to find brain rot ways to disassociate through the nightmare hellscape I’m about to live in until I can get to a state safer for me to live in. That being said.

I’ve November. I always try to write this time of year and given how everything has just gone to shit I’m gonna pour the anxiety and depression into writing. At least, that’s what I want to do, but I never have the motivation. Anyone wanna be writing “pen pals”? Whether you need it as a way to vent, to keep going every day, to find comfort during this hell world scenario, I wanna be able to do that for someone, cause I sure as hell need it now. So if anyone wants to start sharing fanfic or original works let me know. I wanna have a little group or community where we just share for enjoyment or feedback our stories, head canons, discussions. Like a book club but we’re making the books? Idk it sounds stupid I’m sure, but I need something I can just throw myself into so I’ve got a way to keep my head up for the next four years

[lost-in-wond3rland]

Ima ask you to walk with me for a moment, okay?

—————————————

SO. Quarter Back Katsuki (like professional, NFL level) and water boy Izuku right?

But. BUT!

Season for Katsuki? Starting rough TM. They have two games left to the playoffs, and if they don’t win they’re out.

Cut to Katsuki staying late to practice, he walks into the locker room, and Izuku is fucking with the white board. Katsuki is (unsurprisingly-) PISSED. It’s do or die time, they have to win, or his season is over. Izuku, stammering and muttering as he does, is trying to explain the change in play. Katsuki yells at him to fuck off and be does. Katsuki takes his shower, looks at the board and ya know what? It’s not a bad play. But wtf does a little water boy know ANYWAY? He changes it back.

We make it to game day, they’re down by 1 touchdown and Katsuki feels himself being backed into a corner.

UNTILL! He looks over and catches Izuku. He (in his very Katsuki way) grabs a clipboard and stomps his way over to em.

“Write it down.”

“E-excuse me?!”

“The play from last night ya damn nerd. I ain’t gonna ask you again.”

And so, Izuku does. Katsuki looks it over, nods, and goes back over to the team with the clipboard.

And guess what? They run the play.

And they win.

Color Katsuki surprised, they live to see another game.

The stadium clears out, teams gone, and Katsuki finds himself in the locker room with one Izuku Midoriya who’s putting away bottles and things.

“Oi, nerd.”

Izuku starts, looking up at him.

“Nice play.” He says before stalking out of the locker room.

Next game comes, and it’s not much better. They’re tied, they’re best offensive player (prob Kiri or something idk-) is out, and they either make a touch down or get thrown into overtime exhausted. They’re lining up and Katsuki hears him.

“CALL A TIME OUT!!” Katsuki tries to ignore Izuku’s yells, but after eventually ends of calling it.

“The fuck do you want, you damn nerd!?”

“I have a play.”

“Excuse me?” (Coach Aizawa hi, nice to meet you-)

“What, you think cuz I used one play from you last time, im gonna do it again? Who’s to say it wasn’t a fluke?”

“Maybe it was. But you know without Kirishima, if you run the play you’re about to run, you’re going to lose this game.”

And Katsuki hates it, the fire and defiance that he finds in green eyes. Hates it as much as he kind of loves it.

“…give him a fucking clipboard.”

“Is this smart, Bakugou?”

“You got any better ideas old man?!”

“…”

“Give him the fucking clipboard. DUMB ASSES! Huddle up!”

(Guess who wins the game hehehe)

Cut to a season of Izuku and Katsuki becoming a WILD team, Izuku becoming a playmaker and officially moving on from water boy duties. He gets a headset and everything, working right along side Aizawa during the games.

And the tension grows.

“You know more than I’d expect, for a water boy.”

“I wasn’t always a water boy kaachan.”

“‘Tch. You’re really sticking with that name huh?”

“Depends.”

“On what.”

“Are you gonna stick with ‘Deku’ and ‘nerd’?”

“You can bet your ass I am.”

“Then I’m sticking with Kaachan!” He looks up at the blonde, smile blinding and playful.

AND THEN-

“You said you weren’t always a water boy.”

“I did.”

“What’s your story, Deku.”

“Win the next game, and I’ll tell you.”

And they do, making it to the Super Bowl.

The night before:

“You said you’d tell me.”

“I did…”

“…so? Come on nerd, don’t leave me hanging.”

“I played. In high school, and first two years of college. I was a pretty good running back, if I say so myself.”

Katsuki looks Izuku over, eyes trailing over his body. “Yeah, I can see it. Explains the build… always thought you were too fast and built for a water boy.” Izuku smiles at him, though it’s kind of sad. “What happened?”

“I was…stupid. That’s what happened.” He chuckles, though it’s self deprecating. “I was never the most…popular in school. Sophomore year of college, I started to get pretty popular on campus. Went to a few parties. One night, I was driving home and I… shouldn’t have been. Wrapped my car around a pole. Shattered my knee, broke my neck… was paralyzed for a little bit but thankfully that didn’t last. A lot of months of physical therapy later, and I could walk again. Started running even. But, I was never cleared to play again. If I suffered another neck injury well…the doctors said no amount of pt would bring me back again. So… that’s it. I haven’t played, and I haven’t drank, since.”

The realization slams into Katsuki, the look on Izuku’s face when Katsuki showed up at his apartment drunk, Izuku hysterically yelling at Katsuki about drinking and driving (spoiler: he didn’t drive, he called an Uber. Katsuki would never-). “Shit…”

Izuku just nods, offering a sad smile. “It’s not all bad…I like watching. And…this past season? Kaachan it’s… it’s meant everything to me,” he admits, eyes watering. “It feels like playing again, and…regardless of how it started, you gave this to me. You trusted me enough to let me do this and I…just. Thank you.”

Katsuki swallows the lump in his throat, heart aching for the man in front of him. “Honestly? I wouldn’t trust anyone else… Dek- Izuku. This season? Is as much yours as it is mine… you’re our playmaker, our morale. Shit, the entire mood of team hinges on you. Without you? We’re not a team.”

Izuku smiles, silent tears falling. “Thank you, Katsuki.”

And hearing his name, his real name, sends a shock through his system. Katsuki reaches out a hand, thumb catching falling falling tears. “Izuku, I-“ he starts to whisper.

Izuku grabs his wrist, and shakes his head. But there’s a spark in his eyes that soothes Katsuki’s nerves immediately. “Tell me tomorrow. Tell me tomorrow, after you win.”

Katsuki can’t help but match Izuku’s smile with his own. “After I win.” He says, like it’s an inevitable. And maybe it is.

(Ahem, cut to game day, sorry this brain rot is everywhere lol)

It’s a close game. A REALLY close game. The other team gets Katsuki with a hip tackle, and his knee is on fire from the fall.

“Kaachan, you can’t-“

“Oi,” he says, grabbing Izuku’s shoulder and forcing him to meet his eyes. “The doc cleared me, I’m wrapped, and Shoji isn’t gonna let anyone get close to me.”

“But-“

“Hey. I promised you a win didn’t I? You trust me?”

“More than anything.” Izuku says, without hesitation.

Katsuki smiles, dropping his head to place a chaste, barely there kiss on Izuku’s lips. “We got this nerd. You, and me.” He whispers, staring right into his eyes before heading back out onto the field.

(A few plays later and guesssss who has his first Super Bowl ring hehehe. In my head, it’s Katsuki rookie year. But he’s Katsuki so of course he’s the starting qb with something to prove all year. And boy did he PROVE)

“Katsuki! Katsuki! Now that you’ve won, and in your rookie year no less, what are you going to do?” Katsuki’s eyes go over the reports head and a smile splits his lips as he sees a cheering Izuku crying on the sidelines.

“What am I gonna do? I’m gonna go plan my fucking date-“ with those words, Katsuki weaves his way through the crowd, breaking out into a run and scooping Izuku up when he reaches him, placing a proper kiss on his lips this time.

(Alexa play the alchemy by Taylor Swift, specifically, “cheers chanted, cause they said tere was no chance. Trying to be the greatest in the league. Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me-“ section)

The team cheers as they’re QB and Playmaker finally make it official.

“Damn problem children.” Aizawa sighs, sitting down on the bench, soaked in Gatorade.

“I think it’s sweet,” Hizashi smiles down at his husband. “Reminds me of another young couple I knew.”

Aizawa hums, brushing his lips gently with his husbands. “We weren’t so bad, were we?”

“Oboro and Nemuri were about ready to lock us in a room and leave us there had we not figured it out when we did.”

Aizawa laughs, soft and genuine. “Fair.” He stands, walking over to his QB and playmaker. “You coming back next season?”

“No shit old man.”

Aizawa nods, before raising an eyebrow at Izuku.

“M-me?”

“We need our playmaker, right?”

“Damn straight we do.”

————————

Anyway the end- LOL. Thanks for taking this journey with me, ‘twas a nice walk, have a great day 😅

[backtothefanfiction]

All The Good Girls Go To Hell | TF!Boys Mafia AU~ Part ONE

Summary: When Phoenix comes home to find her fiancé banging some other girl, her whole life changes seemingly overnight. Forced to go back and live with her Dad, she's about to be dragged into a life with the men her Dad is indebted to.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY (Mature Content), Dark Mafia Romance Au, setting things on fire, swearing, dead parent, debt, mental health issues, brain tumour, broken family, anger issues (female rage), AFAB OFC, objectification of the female body, pyromania, little bit of theft (smut to come)

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: I didn't need to have yet another idea for a story. I also didn't need to write it straight away, but I recently read Den of Vipers and figured I could do something better featuring the Triple Frontier boys. I don't know how many parts of this there will be, or how regularly this will ultimately be updated, but I thought I'd share anyway. Smut will come, featuring all four guys this time. This will use an ofc but apart from the hair, there aren't too many descriptors. This will also be written from multiple characters points of view throughout to keep things interesting. Enjoy!

ONE

PHEONIX

My fingers itch as I grip the steering wheel tighter. I should have worn gloves, I say to myself as I drop one hand from the wheel and rub it vigorously against my torn jeans, hoping the friction from the denim will- at the very least- satiate the itch left behind from the lighter fluid long enough for me to get to the next gas station, so I can stop in and wash my hands properly.

It was reckless of me really- the whole damn thing. My brothers taught me better than this, but then again, everyone said I had a temper that was only second to Archie’s in my family- so I’m really not that surprised. People say my Dad used to be equally hot headed before he got remarried to Marina and took over the club, but I’ve still yet to see it- even after all the shit me and my brothers have pulled over the years. It’s like after our Mother died he just gave up. But I don’t blame him. I would too if I lost the love of my life to a fucking disease like that. I had barely known her anyway, so I didn’t really notice all that much when the brain tumor turned her into a “literal monster”, as my older brothers used to so fondly call her when she was on one of her rampages.

I’d always said that my only real memory of her was when she tried to burn down the house by settling alight to the curtains in their bedroom. I remember we all stood out on the front grass as the smoke billowed out of the windows and mixed with the night air. Archie stood on my right holding one of my hands, E.Z stood on my left holding the other. Maybe that’s why I’ve always had a thing for fire myself. Messing about with lighters, setting things on fire- all so I can try and understand that night… At least, that’s what a therapist would probably say.

My Dad tried to make me go to one once, after I ended up burning down the whole science block at my school at 16, but alas, that never happened. Which is why I’m probably still using fire as a coping method after all these years.

My phone is blowing up by the time I reach the nearest gas station. I scan the messages from my brothers over quickly as I pull into the lot.

Deano: Heard what you did, I’d say he fucking deserved it.

Archie: Dad is pissed. Gonna try to calm him down before he does something stupid.

E.Z: Seriously, Phe, again! Dad is gonna be so pissed.

Leo: Just heard about your latest work, props little sis, I think your balls might be even bigger than Dean’s.

Rolling my eyes, I shove my phone in the glove box as it begins to buzz again. Uhh, I really don’t want or need a lecture right now about how I should or should not have acted upon finding my fiance in bed with another woman. Did I over react… by some people’s standards- maybe. But did I also live out every woman’s fantasy of dousing the bed in lighter fluid and striking a match whilst they were still in the bed… yes- yes I did- and do I give two fucks about any repercussions? Absolutely- fucking- not. Because there won’t be. Never have been. My Dad works for some of the most powerful men in the city- and I’m not talking about the Governor or the Mayor. No- someone will send some money over to keep them sweet and in a couple days time, everything will go back to normal.

I scrub at my hands with the shitty cheap soap in the tiny cubicle inside the gas station to the point the giant rock, still on my finger, almost slips off and down the drain. It’s the first time I’ve thought about it. I’ve been wearing it so long, it’s just an extension of my hand at this point. What am I gonna do with it? I mean- it’s worth a fucking fortune. Freddie was fucking loaded after all. None of it fucking his mind you. His Dad was a close business partner for the same guys my Dad worked for. Let’s just say, crime pays and his Dad has made so much money over the years working for Santiago Garcia and his crew, Freddie has never had to lift a single finger, let alone do a days work, to get what he wants.

I grab a handful of shitty paper towels, drying off my hands and the ring, holding it up to the fluorescent bathroom light. Uhhh it wasn’t even my style. I hate diamonds, they’re so basic and boring. Give me a massive fuck off ruby or saphire anyday. 

Still unsure what to do with it, I tuck it into the back pocket of my jeans before assessing how I look in the mirror. It’s like waking up from the weirdest dream and not recognising yourself. I look at my blonde hair in the mirror, the plain white t-shirt covering my breasts. I look like one of those young Barbie, trophy wife wannabe types. Where did the color and fun go? He drained it all out of me.

In college, when I met Freddie, I had pink in my hair and always had on something bright. At least my ripped jeans still have some character. 

Exiting out back onto the shop floor, I grab myself a large bag of cheetos and a cherry icee- that's as big as my head- from the machine in the back. As I place the large bag of cheesy puffs on the counter, I take a large sip of my drink, before placing that too on the counter, reaching for a pair of bright yellow heart sunglasses on a display next to the cashier.

“What d’ya think?” I ask the portly man behind the counter, who’s polo shirt doesn’t look or smell like it’s been washed for at least two weeks with its armpit stains and ranch dressing smear on the front.

It’s obvious he’s trying to come across as if he’s not checking out my whole body as he looks at me, but his eyes scan lower than my face, falling on the V neck of my t-shirt and my breasts for a hint too long. I flash him a sickly sweet smile as I take the sunglasses off my face and hook them into my shirt where his eyes seem to linger instead. “How about now?” I ask.

He quickly clears his throat as he looks back to the register. “Uhhh, yes- Yes- I think they suit you, yes.” he rambles and I can’t help but laugh. Men like that were always so predictable.

I reach for the icee taking another sip and try to school my features when I get brain freeze. “With the sunglasses,” he says, “16 bucks.” I sigh, but fish a couple notes out my back pocket and hand them over, just as my eyes land on a lighter covered in black and white harlequin print. My fingers instantly reach for it.

I turn the lighter over and over again in my fingers before flipping the top of it open and striking up a flame, my eyes getting lost in its amber glow as it sways hypnotically back and forth. It instantly takes me back to not 20 minutes ago and Fred and the girl’s screams, as the bed covers went up in flames and they both shot out from underneath them as he screamed about how much of a psycho I was. 

The ding of the till draw brings me back to the present and I flick the lighter closed. “Oh, and I’m taking this as payment for you oggling me.” I smile at the balding cashier, as I pocket the lighter and grab my bits off the counter.

I can hear him calling after me, “HEY, COME BACK HERE! YOU NEED TO PAY FOR THAT!” but I just laugh and take another sip of the slush and place the sunglasses back on my head.

As I walk back to my car, I notice a bum, sitting in the shade of the wall at the back corner of the station. As I look at him, I can feel the weight of the ring in my back pocket, dragging me towards him. Hey, the ring might not have changed my life, but it doesn’t mean it can’t change someone else’s life.

“Hey.” I say, lifting the yellow sunglasses on top of my head so I can meet his eyes. “Catch.” I toss him the ring. It sparkles as it hits the afternoon sun and I know from the look on his eyes as it makes contact with his fingers, he feels like he just won the lottery. “Pawn it. Get whatever you want with it, I don’t care.” I say as I begin to turn away from him and back to my car.

“Uh-thank you.” he says at first in shock, “Thank you.” he says again, a little more confidently now.

“Don’t mention it.” I shout back to him as I unlock my car with a chirp and climb back inside. 

I open the bag of cheetos, taking one and popping it in my mouth, before dumping them on the passenger seat and reaching to open the glove box, taking my phone back out.

7 more texts from my brothers and 5 missed calls from my Dad; with a final text saying:

DAD: Get your ass home. NOW!

Well, that does it then. I guess I’m going back to the old family home.

I start the engine, shuffling through the radio stations until I find something I like. When I hear the opening riff for Britney Spears’ Toxic, I stop and whack the volume all the way up. My tires screech as I speed out of the forecourt. I sing at the top of my lungs all the way home.

☆

I’m not through the door five seconds when E.Z is trying to usher me back out again. He’s always been the softer one. Third born. The middle child. Always overlooked, but still always trying to appease everyone.

“Dad is pissed.” He says, when he meets me in the foyer. After Mom tried to burn the house down, the place got remodeled. My Dad had to sell his soul to the devil to do it, but it meant we got to stay in our family home. Well, sort of. 

The whole left side of the house needed rebuilding, which meant they got to extend it out a bit more. We lost the basketball court the boys liked to play on, but it meant they finally got their own rooms so they didn’t mind. 

“I know.” I say to E.Z, waving my phone in his face with one hand, while I take a sip of my icee with the other. 

“Give me that.” He says, snatching the drink from my hand, the contents within the straw almost going everywhere as he rips it straight from my mouth. “This is serious Phe, Andy,” Freddie’s dad, “has already been on the phone making threats. You know how important he is for the business. He’s threatening to cut off the club’s supplies.”

“And….” I shrug, before reaching to take back the large cup in his hands. He merely moves it further out of my reach. “Look, I’m sure the guys who own the place have other connections he can use.”

“You sure about that?” My brother presses, raising his eyebrows and looming over me.

“Oh come on, you telling me those four wannabe goodfellas bozos, haven’t got some other dipshit on their payroll to import and export shit for them off record to help keep club costs down.” 

E.Z’s face is a picture. Eyes wide, face serious. It’s clear from his expression and his mouth that keeps gaping like a fish as he tries to get a word in, that he thinks I should shut up. “What!?” I hiss at him, but as I’ve been ranting and raving, I haven’t heard the second set of feet that have made their way through the front door into the foyer. E.Z’s face turns pale as he looks behind me to the figure and back.

“Oh no, don’t stop on my account.” A forced casual voice comes from behind me.

I turn my head and follow the voice to one of the most gorgeous men I have ever laid eyes on. All tanned skin and dark curly hair, a smattering of grays mixed in- the only hint to his age. I frown as a familiarity falls over me, but I can’t quite place from where. “I’m sorry- do I know you?”

He slides his fingers into his trouser pockets, his foot tapping slightly as he looks me up and down. “Oh you know, I’m just one of those bozos who’s now having to help clear up your mess.”

Before I have a chance to respond, my Dad and Archie step out of his office at the end of the hall. “PHEONIX!” My Dad’s voice bellows and I blanche, maybe that anger isn’t as far away as I thought. 

I turn away from the stranger in his Armani suit by the front door, to my Dad, flashing him my sweetest smile. “Hi, Dadd-”

“Uh- No!” He says, holding up a hand to stop me, “Don’t you dare-” He stops as he spots the other gentleman in the foyer. “Pope.” He says, his demeanor growing lighter as he greets the man who actually owns his ass.

“What kind of name is Pope?” I hiss to E.Z under my breathe, but he just nudges me to shut up.

“David… Archie…” Pope nods his head to the two men. “Shall we talk in your office.” He says, nodding back down the hall behind him.

“Uh- yes. Yes.” My Dad says nervously, turning his body to indicate for him to follow him back, before shooting me a stern look, telling me to behave and that this was far from over.

“Pheonix.” Pope nods to me as he passes, a faint smirk in the corner of his mouth and a look in his eye that I could only describe as fascination. But it quickly disappears again as he turns back to my Dad.

As the door to my Father’s office closes, my brother begins to ferry me towards the stairs. “I’d get up there and stay out of trouble if I were you.” He warns. 

I roll my eyes at him before I slip the yellow, heart shaped sunglasses, down over them with annoyance, snatching back my icee, before I stomp upstairs- as usual, out of sight, out of mind.

~

POPE

“Mr Garcia, I am so sorry for my daughters behavior. I really had thought she’d grown out of this,” David Leacher says, as I sit myself down in one of the leather armchairs in his office. “And I never thought she would do something like this that would put your well balanced business in jeopardy.”

I fain disinterest about the subject, because really, it doesn’t actually bother me all that much at all. Sure Andy is a bit pissed now on behalf of his son, but from what I hear, if you’re gonna go sneaking around behind your soon to be Mrs' back and she finds out, you kinda get what your asking for. To be fair, I gotta give the little lady props; it takes real guts to dump lighter fluid on a guy and strike the match, regardless of the consequences. 

“… I just don’t know what to do with her.” David says, slumping back in his chair behind his desk with a large glass of bourbon in his hand. 

“And this is why I never got married and had kids.” I say, giving him a tight lipped smirk. There’s an awkward pause between us, the only sound in the room, the ice clinking in David’s glass as he takes another nervous sip, his hand shaking slightly in anticipation, waiting for the slap on the wrist he thinks is about to come. “Look David, I’ll get to the point, Andy wants compensation for the money he’s already forked out for the wedding.” David puts his drink down and begins rubbing his temples as if this whole ordeal is giving him a headache. 

He sighs, turning to me, an earnest look in his eye, “Pope,” he says softly- imploringly- “you know I don’t have the money for that-“

“I know.” I say, cutting him off. “That’s why, we’ve decided to franchise Medusa’s. We are going to acquire two more clubs, you’ll get a pay rise and oversee all three venues, to help cover the costs. We get more money coming in through the clubs, you get more money to pay off Andy- everyone’s a winner.” 

The look of relief on David’s face is a picture. “Oh thank you, Pope- uh Mr Garcia.” He says, as his whole body seems to let out a very long breath that he had been keeping tight in his body, probably since the first call he got this afternoon about his daughter’s antics. “Thank you, thank you.” He seemingly pants.

“Look Dave, you’re a good guy- a loyal guy-“ I say honestly, “you work hard, you run Medusa’s well. Profits have been up 30% since you took over. I’m not gonna jeopardize that over some silly tiff between a couple kids.”

“No, no… thank you.” He says quietly, acknowledging my words as I continue to speak.

“Whether this had happened or not, we were going to come to you with this proposal this week anyway. Help you pay off your debt to us quicker too- you know.”

“Yes… thank you, Pope. Thank you.”

“Very well then.” I nod to him. “I’ll call Andy, let him know everything is settled.”

“Thank you, Pope, thank you.” He says again. 

David is a good man- a loyal man. He runs our most popular club well, but it was a real shame how soft he had gone in his old age. Ever since he lost his wife, he’s never been the same. Then he married that wannabe wag Marina- who does nothing but spend the rest of what little money he has coming in after he repays some of his debt to us- and walks all over him. Back in the day he had really made a name for himself bare knuckle boxing. They used to call him The Reaper because he could knock a man out with a single blow that brought a man close to death; but nowadays he’d barely hit a fly. This was yet another reason I never settled down and did the whole wife and kids thing- it made you soft.

Still didn’t stop his little girl from being as tough as nails and crazy to boot- but when the only female role models you had growing up were a Mother with a brain tumor that made her- to be polite- unhinged; and then Marina, it's no wonder she’s ended up as she has. She bounced around three different boarding schools in her teens. By the third school- after she had burnt down the science block at the second school- we had to write a fairly hefty donation cheque, in order to get her in. Just another number added to David’s bill to be repaid.

Although he had initially approached us looking for work in order to pay off his wife’s medical bills and then to redo the house after she had burnt half of it down, most of the money he’s borrowed from us over the years has been for Phoenix. Frankie, Will and myself have spent many a night around the table with a drink in our hands speculating on why he continues to bail her out and put himself in more debt to protect her. We’ve long come to assume it’s probably because of guilt. That she was robbed of a proper Mother. Cursed to have a weak Father. If she had been my kid, I would have tossed her ass out on the curb a long time ago and told her to deal with her own shit if she wanted to keep behaving the way she has over the years.

To be fair though, after she met Freddie, we thought she’d finally straightened out- or at least she had become Fred’s problem and he was dealing with it. She stopped going to the clubs. Started wearing more grown up clothing that matched her age. Began running with Freddie and his older friends. But I guess it was only a matter of time and you know what they say- a leopard never changes their spots.

I’m halfway to the door, ready to leave, when David stops me. “Umm, Pope.” He says tentatively. I slowly turn myself back to him, ready to hear his request, even though he’s in no place to be making requests right now after I’ve just bailed his ass out for the fifteenth time. “I was just wondering…” he continues hesitantly, “seeing as Phoenix and Freddie are no longer together, she’ll probably need an actual job of her own now…” I can almost feel myself rubbing at my temples, knowing the question that was about to come out of his mouth. It’s the same question that had come when all of his son’s came of age and needed a job… but this time is different- and we both know it.

Phoenix isn’t like her brothers. Where they are able to be mature and step up and follow orders, she most definitely can not. I’ve seen enough of her school reports over the years to know what kind of employee she’d be. When David had asked about getting the boys jobs, it had been a no brainer. Each one of them had a build similar to their father in his hay day, perfect for a bit of muscle and extra protection in the club. But a job in Medusa’s for Phoenix would be behind the bar- and I know for a fact she’d sooner pour herself shots of liquor and dance on that bar than stand back and serve everyone else whilst they had a good time.

I already know I’m going to regret this when I finally climb into my bed at the end of the night, “She gets one chance.” I say. “One chance.” I hold up my index finger to him for emphasis.

“Thank you, Pope. I promise she won’t let you down.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I mutter to myself, my thumb and forefinger rubbing at my eyes in both irritation and exhaustion, as I finally leave the room. I give Archie a brief nod of acknowledgement as he sees me back out to my car.

I'm about to climb back in when he says, "I know you didn't have to do that, but he needed that, you know. He needs that hope that she'll be okay."

I only give him a nod as I look up to the row of upstairs windows and back to him, "We'll see." I say. "We'll see."

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

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[atierrorian]

| Have this Wish I Wish Tonight | — K.A & D.S

Based on this post

PARING: Starboy!Kalim Al Asim, Deuce Spade x READER (separately)

SYNOPSIS: Who would have thought wishing on the stars would change everything and bring you a boy from the heavens to help you out. And who knows, maybe your relationship will become more than friends?

˗ˏˋGENRE ´ˎ˗ — Romance, fluff, angst/comfort

˗ˏˋCW ´ˎ˗ — Slight mentions of sex, slight deaths, neglections

˗ˏˋNOTES ´ˎ˗ — Damn, took me awhile to actually get a plot because of writer's block unfortunately :(. But anyways, aside from that I do have more planned for this, I just wanted to post something after awhile since I am losing interest in Twisted Wonderland and have my eyes set on other fandoms. (Coughs like Danganronpa and other animes or games)

P.S: I did not mean to Make Deuce's part so LONG?? Whoops, guess I enjoyed writing his plot a little TOO much once writer's block disappeared.

✎| Masterlists|Navigation |

♡ "Will you stay with me?" ♡ "I've made that decision a long time ago"

✧— Kalim Al Asim 

You loved fairy tales and the bizarre stories your Grandma always told you back when you were younger. You'd always watch with starry eyes and full of anticipation whenever she told you the journeys of the characters and their overcoming of hardships and living happily ever after. You'd admire the characters and always thought to yourself before drifting to sleep what it would be like to be just like them, having to overcome the obstacles in your path and get your happy ending and tell the tales to others to inspire them just like how your Grandma did to you.

And even as you got older, you never got tired of hearing the stories from your Grandma, if anything, it inspired you even more to work hard towards your goals and always look on the bright side; no matter how horrible things escalated quickly. You'd always try to stay positive even if the tides were against you and the storm raging; you would survive them all.

But, it seems like this time, the tempest won. And while it mocked you with its continuous heavy rain and the thunderstorms, you could care less — you only cared for the dying lady in the bed who tried to comfort you despite her voice being hoarse and barely audible. Tears blinded your sight as you held her hands tightly and cried in her embrace — trying to find solace in her last warmth. And no matter how much she tried to tell you it was gonna be alright, you knew it wouldn't.

"Shh, don't cry my dear. Everything is gonna be alright…" She whispered and held you tightly whilst you continued crying and shaking your head at her words. It wasn't going to be okay, but you wanted to delude yourself and think everything is going to be fine.

"I wanted to spend more time with you…" Your Grandma gave you a pitied look before letting go of you and laid down on her bed, too weak to do anything now. But even then, she used all her strength to wipe your tears away. You leaned in her hand and the sobbing stopped, only sniffling was left echoing in the room.

Finally, after a few hours, you left her room to allow her to get some rest. The storm vanished after your outburst and you took this as an opportunity to go to your special spot where Grandma told you stories to reminisce and prepare yourself for the worst.

You sat on the branch and turned your head up to the cloudy night sky that slowly dissipated allowing you to see the starry nights that were hidden in the clouds. But despite all the stars, there was one that stood out to you the most; and it was the brightest one of them all that stood out the most. And even though others may call you childish or stupid, you wished on the brightest star of what you desired the most. And how long would he take notice of your wish despite having a King to wish to? By the time he did, it would already be too late.

You don't recall all of the details afterward, but, the star started to glow radiantly and blinded you for a minute. Now, a boy with white hair and garnet-red eyes is floating in front of you, a hint of curiosity within his eyes before smiling at you and introducing himself to you.

"Hi! My name is Kalim! It's nice to meet you!" He extended his hand to you for a handshake. Out of instinct, you backed up from him and glanced at the arm and back at him before hesitantly taking his hand and shaking his hands. You couldn't believe this was happening!!

"Oh! Uhm… Hello! My name is [Name]! It's uh... Nice to meet you too!"

And this was the beginning of your adventure with Sunshine Boy.

You sat on your bed, trying to think of the situation and how you got yourself into this predicament. You groaned and placed your head on your hands as Kalim Frequently glanced around in awe and excitement.

Sure hearing his amazement was kinda cute, but having someone nonetheless a boy in your room is considered scandalous, and you're not in the mood to hear the people talk about purity and marriage before sex. Gross.

You shuddered, no way would you do something like that! Lifting up your head, you saw the white haired boy continue looking at your belongings you have on your wooden drawer. Tilting his head every so often when he didn't know what it was and asked you about it.

"Hey [Name], what's this?" He questioned, pointing at a music box that stood in the middle amidst of all your possession.

"Oh, that? It's just a music box... My grandma gifted it to me..." Saying it in a hushed tone made you feel wistful. All the memories you made with your grandma, how she took care of you since you were young made you yearn to spend more time with her before it was too late.

But that was it, you said nothing more to the boy who looked at you with compassion. He didn't know you all too well, but he could tell you cared and love your grandma more than anything. Hence why you even made the wish in the first place.

Oh how he wish he could do more to help you, but he had rules of his own that restricted his magic from granting your wish. But seeing you disheartened made his heart ache.

You stood up from the bed despite your body begging you to just go to sleep and rest. You forced your legs to cooperate to go to your grandma's room to say good night to her.

Kalim watched as you wobbled, fatigue catching up to you but you were more stubborn to let such thing stopping you.

"[Name] wait! You should rest first! You might collapse..." You merely shook your head and walked out the door, leaving Kalim in your room with worry on his mind. Without thinking, Kalim followed you, he was worried something bad might happen to you in your awful state.

And he was glad he did. Before you could hit the floor he was already there and caught you before you could injure yourself. He couldn't believe it, you fell asleep mid way. He wonders just how long you haven't been sleeping...

He picked you up from his lap and took you back to your room where you could have proper rest.

After putting you to bed, he took the blanket that was tossed on the floor and carefully placed it on your figure. You looked so peaceful in your sleep with your tranquil expression. He wonders what you were dreaming about.

But for now, he'll continue exploring your abode and protect you while you doze. You may not know it but he's glad he made a new friend today. And Kalim couldn't help but smile widely at the thought of it.

 ✧— Deuce Spade

Most people would consider you lucky. You know; with all the luxuries in the world servants at your every beck and call, not having to worry what meal you can have for today or tomorrow, not having to fight strangers on the streets just for a few change, not having to steal and dealing with your concious later on.

Which sure, you also consider yourself lucky and you're grateful for the life you live. Not everyone can be adopted by the King and be the next heir once he abdicates the throne and give it to you once he deemed you were ready. And yet no matter the lavishness life you get to live, you still wished your father paid more attention to you and give you the love and affection you sought your entire life.

Even when you lived in the orphanage, you kept to yourself half of the time because you didn't know how to make friends. No one tried initiating a conversation with you so why should you? Besides, you were afraid you would have said something wrong. And because of how reclusive you were, it just made you even more touch-starved as much as you hate admitting it. The amount of times you spent fantasizing of a loving family coming through those doors, saw you, and thought you were the one and that was that.

But nope! Instead, the King or Crowley, adopted you. Chose you among the other children who were in the orphanage and took you back to his palace. At first, you enjoyed the palace maids, butlers, and other servants servicing you and finally people who you could talk to.

But overtime you slowly realized the only reason why they put up with you and spent time with you, was because not only was it their duties, but they saw it as a way to get closer to the King and hope for a higher paycheck. Not because it was voluntarily or wanting to become friends. And with that epiphany, you slowly distanced yourself from others once more.

And hell, three or four years, you never saw your father that often. Only in meals and when guests arrives for events your father hosted to the entire kingdom for the aristocrats. And if you had to be brutally honest, you never liked any of them. Always hearing gossip from one table to another, whispers about how you were using the king. The audacity they have for thinking you didn't have ears! But you sure as hell do. You always scoffed at those noble men and women who thinks everyone owes them something. Everyone who is below them must bow down and beg for them. It was a pathetic mindset truly.

But throughout all this, you stayed silent. Not wanting to cause anymore unnecessary drama you might cause were you to say something to your father. But... would he ever listen to you?

Most people would consider you lucky. You know; with all the luxuries in the world servants at your every beck and call, not having to worry what meal you can have for today or tomorrow, not having to fight strangers on the streets just for a few change, not having to steal and dealing with your concious later on.

Which sure, you also consider yourself lucky and you're grateful for the life you live. Not everyone can be adopted by the King and be the next heir once he abdicates the throne and give it to you once he deemed you were ready. And yet no matter the lavishness life you get to live, you still wished your father paid more attention to you and give you the love and affection you sought your entire life.

Even when you lived in the orphanage, you kept to yourself half of the time because you didn't know how to make friends. No one tried initiating a conversation with you so why should you? Besides, you were afraid you would have said something wrong. And because of how reclusive you were, it just made you even more touch-starved as much as you hate admitting it. The amount of times you spent fantasizing of a loving family coming through those doors, saw you, and thought you were the one and that was that.

But nope! Instead, the King or Crowley, adopted you. Chose you among the other children who were in the orphanage and took you back to his palace. At first, you enjoyed the palace maids, butlers, and other servants servicing you and finally people who you could talk to.

But overtime you slowly realized the only reason why they put up with you and spent time with you, was because not only was it their duties, but they saw it as a way to get closer to the King and hope for a higher paycheck. Not because it was voluntarily or wanting to become friends. And with that epiphany, you slowly distanced yourself from others once more.

And hell, three or four years, you never saw your father that often. Only in meals and when guests arrives for events your father hosted to the entire kingdom for the aristocrats. And if you had to be brutally honest, you never liked any of them. Always hearing gossip from one table to another, whispers about how you were using the king. The audacity they have for thinking you didn't have ears! But you sure as hell do. You always scoffed at those noble men and women who thinks everyone owes them something. Everyone who is below them must bow down and beg for them. It was a pathetic mindset truly.

But throughout all this, you stayed silent. Not wanting to cause anymore unnecessary drama you might cause were you to say something to your father. But... would he ever listen to a word you ever say to his special guests? Probably not.

You sighed and sat on top of your bed, the wind blowing over your skin, gently yet roughly kissing your skin. Looking out through the window, you noticed that the stars were more visible than usual. Your breath hitched, the sight was truly beautiful and breathtaking. And without even thinking, you made a wish.

The next thing you know, there was a boy with blue hair sitting beside you.

You were currently having a staring contest with the random boy who suddenly appeared in your room. Your mouth agape, not knowing what to do or what to say. You opted to scream for help thinking he might just be a kidnapper who was quite stealthy enough to get passed the guards.

However, before you could, he suddenly covered your mouth and made a motion with his other hand, his index on his lips trying to quietly shush you.

After a few minutes of silence, once he deemed it was okay to remove his hand on your mouth. To his surprise, you didn't look like you were gonna try anything like asking for help. Because trust him he does NOT want to get into any sorts of trouble.

...

"Who are you?" You were suspicious, no doubt about that. And that fact he was very very strange in terms of appearance. He had this sort of glowing aura around him that was faint but still visible, his clothing were something you were not familiar with your culture in the kingdom and you even noticed a few sparkles shining in the dark. His blue hair and cyan eyes were really pretty though.

"Oh! Right, my name is Deuce Spade, it's nice to meet you." Although Deuce tried hard to look stern and serious, you could somehow still tell he was nervous by the way his eyes flickered from time to time, trying to look anywhere but your gaze.

He awkwardly coughed noticing your stare towards him, "I know this may look bad but I promise I don't mean any harm!"

You furrowed your brows, still keeping your distance away from him at the edge of the bed. Even if he said he wasn't dangerous, you might never know and it was better to be safe than sorry. You held on tightly onto the bell you hid behind your back, ready to sound any of the guards that were near your room.

"Okay... sure but why are you here? And how did you even get in here?" You questioned, tone low and hesitance seeping from your lips. It was just too weird, you couldn't wrap your mind around it. You tried thinking of any openings he could have use but atlas, it was futile.

After all there wasn't much he could use to get in besides your door and the windows.

Deuce on the other hand didn't know how to explain the entirety of this situation. This was his first gig and he really didn't want to mess it up... yet looking at you made him nervous for some reason.

"I'll tell you... I'll explain everything to you but I might sound crazy... Just promise me you won't think I'm crazy..." He pleaded. You kinda felt sympathetic towards him with how he was acting, but still you kept your guard up and nodded, letting him explain everything.

FINALLY! I'm posting this after months of me benching this in my drafts. I apologize if Deuce's second part was short but currently I'm sleepy and I wanted to get this over with since I lost most of my motivation for Twisted Wonderland and plan on writing on other fandoms now.

And i'm not so sure if I can make a part two. I have ideas but idk how long my motivation will last for twst sadly.

[cowgurrrl]

Hello! Would it be possible to get some rockstar!joel and actrees!reader proposal/wedding stuff? Absolutely in loveee with the story!!

Yesssss!! I’m so excited to write this!! Thank you for the request 🫶

I Want To Marry You

Pairing: rockstar!joel x actress!reader

Author’s note: Dedicated to everyone who ever loved me enough to try again. Let’s get coffee sometime.

Summary: Joel asks you The Question [3.3k]

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, family fluff, things coming full circle, oh god I love them

Joel's been acting weird the past few days. You're not in a fight. You're between projects right now, and he's always plunking music in the home studio. Everybody's healthy and happy. You can't pinpoint exactly why he's being jumpy or disappearing into the garage to take phone calls, but you trust him to tell you if something's happening. Still, it throws you off.

When you tell Carolina about it, she reassures you it's probably nothing. "Maybe he's going to surprise you with a romantic getaway or something like that." She suggests, and you laugh as you fiddle with Daisy's collar. She also seemed to sense the shift in the house because she's gotten especially clingy recently. 

"You have kids. You know how hard it is to get away." You say, shaking your head. 

"Yeah, but my kids are seven and three. Not seventeen and twenty-one." 

"Still! Ellie's in school, and even though Sarah has her own apartment now, I don't like going super far in case she needs one of us. That's why we stagger our schedules like we do." 

"Did your mom worry about you this much when you were twenty-one?" She asks. You laugh because she knows the answer. She knew what you were like in your early twenties, and somebody definitely should've been worrying about you.

"My mom didn't even know what borough I lived in at twenty-one." You say. "It's not a bad thing to want to be close. Do you remember when I dropped a plate and cut my foot open on the broken glass and had to take a cab to the hospital?"

"God, don't remind me." She shudders. Carolina had come home to find your tiny apartment in Hell's Kitchen empty and covered in blood. For exactly twenty seconds, she believed you'd be axe-murdered and dragged away by the killer until you called her and told her what happened, resulting in a ten-minute-long conversation about how many people in Manhattan realistically own axes. 

"All I'm saying is I don't want Sarah to be bleeding out in the back of a stranger's car if Joel or I can be there instead."

"You worry too much." She says. "But, then again, all the best moms do."

"Not their mom." You say quickly as if she’d thrown you a ticking bomb and you’re trying to pass it right back to her.

"Yeah, but you're the closest thing they have to one."

"That's true, but I don't want to put that kind of pressure on the girls. They shouldn't have to call me anything they don't want to, and I'm not going to replace their moms."

"Of course not, honey, and nobody would accuse you of doing that, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't love those girls like they're your own."

"I know." You sigh. "I just worry."

"I know you do." She says. Carolina has been there for all your worrying over the years. Worrying about how you were gonna pay rent, when your next job would come in, and whatever stupid boy you were seeing at the moment. She knows how to calm you down and take your mind off things. "Why don't you get out of the little worry hole you've dug yourself into and come with me and the girls to get our nails done? It'll be fun, and you'll get to hang out with your goddaughters." 

"When?"

"Tomorrow?" She says, and you mentally flip through your calendar. 

"I think I can do tomorrow. Send me a time and place, and I'll be there." You say as the front door opens and closes. You furrow your brows and walk to the top of the stairs to see what's happening. A smiley face greets you with a wave, and you hurriedly hang up on Carolina.

"Sarah! What are you doing here, bug?" You ask as you rush down the stairs to hug her. Joel beams as he watches you embrace her for several long seconds, not pulling away until she does.

"Just missed y'all." She mumbles into your shoulder, and you kiss her temple. She's twenty minutes up the road, but it feels like a lifetime away. 

"Sarah!" Ellie yells and joins in on your hug without hesitation. The three of you dissolve into a fit of giggles, and Joel just stands there, watching the madness unfold. Joel has never been good at hiding his emotions, and you've always been good at reading him like a book. The look he gives you and the girls is full of love and pride and something deeper, something more meaningful. You raise an arm to pull him into the group hug, and he pretends to be annoyed, but he snuggles in with the three of you, kissing each of your foreheads. 

You spend the night making dinner and chocolate chip cookies with the girls and Joel (and Daisy ever so graciously cleaning up the remnants of a food fight Joel started) before curling up on the couch with them and watching a movie. It's just like every other time you've sat and watched whatever movie the girls have been dying to see, but as you rest against Joel's chest, something pricks in your brain. This feels different. He feels different. His hands run a nervous course from your shoulder to your wrist, and his head occasionally dips to kiss at the juncture of your neck. It's like he can't sit still. 

"You okay?" You whisper, glancing at him. He gives you a confused look but nods anyway.

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"I don't know. I'm probably just anxious for no reason." You shrug. He pulls you close and kisses your temple, keeping you close as the movie continues. At the end of the night, Joel carries both the girls to bed even though he's forty-three and could've let them sleep on the couch. You didn't tell him this, of course, because who are you to pull him back from Dad Mode? So, you cautiously walk in front of him, kicking stray clothes or backpacks out of the way so he doesn't trip. Once Sarah and Ellie are safely tucked into bed, Joel scoops you up by your waist and throws you over his shoulder to carry you into your shared bedroom. 

You laugh the whole way in, and when he plops you down on the bed, you wrap your legs around his waist and keep him close. Your fingers reach up to tug the necklace out from under his shirt collar and play with the pendant as he stares at you.

"What're you thinking about?" You ask.

"Thinking bout us." He says, and you raise your eyebrows at him.

"Oh, do tell."

"We've been together a long time." 

"Sick of me already?" You ask, making him laugh, but he shakes his head and kisses you, traces of chocolate and cinnamon lingering on his lips. 

"Never." He says. "I was just thinkin' bout it." Technically, it's true. You guys have been together for a while. This year, it'll almost be four years since you walked into that office in Beverly Hills and met him. You remember thinking you would finish out the contract and never see him again. Little did you know Joel Miller would become the man making you dinner most nights and carrying you off to bed. Or that he'd throw you the best thirtieth birthday party in the history of birthday parties. Or that you'd move in with him and his daughters. Or that you'd love him more than you've ever loved anyone. 

"It's weird to think I went so long without knowing you." You mumble, your hold on him tightening like you're scared he'll fade away if you don't cling to him. He rests his forehead against yours, sensing your anxiety spiking, and you're overwhelmed by him. Your legs are still locked around his waist, and your chests are touching, the points of contact sending little butterflies fluttering through your veins. You can't see, taste, feel, or smell anything that isn't Joel.

"'M not goin' anywhere." He says, and you nod. "Ever."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Miller." You joke, trying to ease your brain out of your spiraling and lighten the air between you two. He laughs, and the room brightens as he does. 

"Do your worst, darlin'." 

When you wake up the next morning, Joel isn't there. You reach for him and find a piece of paper on his cold pillow. How long has he been gone? How the fuck did you sleep through him rolling out of your arms? You squint in the early morning sun as you read the note.

You sigh and grumble into your pillow. What kind of psychopath runs errands at nine in the morning? The kind of psychopath you love, that's who. You lay in the too-big bed for a few more minutes before finally getting up and checking your phone. Carolina has texted you with the address of a nail salon and told you to meet her at eleven, but other than that, your phone is radio silent. Not that you're complaining, but normally you're bombarded with notifications from when you wake up to when you go to bed. It's nice, if not a little unnerving, to not have five million people to respond to the first thing in the morning.

When you walk downstairs, you expect to see Sarah and Ellie sitting at the table and eating, but no one's there. You call for the girls, but the only person who responds is Daisy, who dances in front of you. You crouch down to pet her and give her good morning kisses. "Just us today, huh?" You ask, a little sad, but nobody is more excited about one-on-one time quite like Daisy Mae. You give Daisy breakfast before letting her run around the backyard and making yourself something to eat.

You scroll aimlessly through your phone until it's time to leave and meet Carolina and the girls at the nail salon. Elizabeth and Victoria launch themselves at you the second they catch sight of you, and you spend the better half of your appointment with a child on your lap and listening to the latest drama from Elizabeth's first-grade classroom. You have the girls help pick out what color to paint your nails, and they each land on a pretty ballet slipper pink. "Good taste, guys," you praise as you show the nail technician what color you want. "Just like your mama, huh?"

"I mean, I wasn't gonna say it," Carolina says, and you laugh. Caro, like usual, is right about needing to take some time for yourself to stop worrying. You can actually relax in the big, plush chairs and talk to the girls like nothing could be more important than what they had for breakfast. Carolina hugs you tighter than normal at the end of your appointment and says she'll see you later before ushering the girls into their car seats. You barely have time to react before she's driving away like nothing happened. 

Did you make plans with her and forget about them? It's happened before, so you wouldn't be overly surprised if it happened again. But if that's the case, why didn't she say anything? You shake your head as if it'll shake out all your racing thoughts and get in your car to drive home. When you pull into the driveway, everyone's cars are back where they belong, and you selfishly get really excited about seeing them. Except, the exact second you step through the door, Joel is putting Daisy's harness on her and has his running shoes on.

"Where are you going?" You ask, your mood dropping at seeing him ready to leave again. He looks up and smiles despite the pout on your lips.

"There you are! We were waiting on you so we could take Daisy for a walk." He says, breathless as he wrestles with your pitbull. You look past Joel and see Sarah and Ellie standing there with shoes and sunglasses on. 

"We really need four people for a dog walk?" 

"I wanted to show the girls the new route along the beach we found." He says. "Is that okay?" You nod.

"We just might look crazy, but, of course! Let me change my shoes!" You call as you take the stairs two at a time to get up to your bedroom. You decide to wear the pink tennis shoes to match your cute pink nails before ambling back downstairs and walking out the door. When you first rescued Daisy, she didn't let anyone but you hold her leash. However, after years spent with Joel and the girls, she can be walked by just about anyone as long as you're there. She's as much of your comfort dog as you are her comfort person.

Taking your hand in his, Joel walks Daisy with the other and swings your hands through the air as Sarah and Ellie walk behind you. It's a little silly, but you'll take all the affection after waking up without anyone else in the house. Slowly, the five of you make your way toward the sound of the crashing waves and the smell of salt in the air. The cliffs hang ominously above the empty beach and boardwalks, but you love it. You once told Joel when you walk out this far, it feels like you're the only person around. Something about being near the water makes you feel even better. A pop of color near the sidewalk catches your attention, and you break off from your little ragtag group to see what it is.

"Joel, come look at this." You say, leaning over the rope to look down at the wildflowers dancing on the cliffside. It's gorgeous, and the wind perfectly balances the blistering hot day, but he doesn't immediately appear at your side like he normally would. You furrow your brows and turn to see him down on one knee with a ring in his hand. Your breath catches in your throat, and you immediately cover your mouth with your hand. Joel smiles with watery eyes as he reaches for the other and pulls you close to him. 

"Did you know about this?" You look past Joel to see Ellie and Sarah standing there, Daisy's leash wrapped around Ellie's wrist as Sarah records on her phone, and they laugh. Their smiles and teary eyes are all the confirmation you need, and you look back down at Joel. "Is this why you've been acting so weird?" You ask, and he laughs.

"Yeah, this is why I've been actin' so weird," he says. His Adam's apple bobs as he says your name and your legs shake under you. "I love you, and I fall more in love with you every single day. There's not a single moment I've spent with you where I've not wondered what the fuck you see in me." He's crying now, but you can't stop the laughter from bubbling out from your chest. He squeezes your hand and takes a deep breath before continuing. "And you don't just love me, but you love my girls. You make them feel safe and cared for. You've given them somethin' I've been tryin' and failin' to give them for years, and I will spend the rest of my days tryna repay you for that."  

"Will you marry me?" He finally asks, and you sniffle. Tears stain everyone's face, and even Daisy is crying next to Ellie, and you'd laugh if you could see past the tears in your eyes. You nod and drop to your knees with Joel.

"Yes." You say as you grab his face and kiss him. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Of course, I'll marry you." You repeat over and over again as his arms lock around your waist. Sarah and Ellie cheer, suddenly no longer annoyed at your PDA, and you smile against Joel's lips. He adjusts his hold on you to give you a good look at the ring for the first time, and all your breath leaves you in a huff. It's gorgeous. A simple oval-shaped diamond on a gold band with an engraving on the inside. 

"What does this say?" You ask, and he smiles as he holds it so you can read it. You immediately start crying when you read and realize what it means. He wrote inside your engagement ring, "And one day, we'll get coffee & try again." You said it to him before you left for Ireland when your heart was broken, and you didn't know the future could ever be this soft. He slips it onto your left ring finger and gathers you in his arms, both of you still on the ground and crying like crazy people. You don't care. You hold him so tight you almost miss him whispering into your skin.

"Thank you for trying again with me." He says. Ellie, Sarah, and Daisy join in on your crying in the middle of the sidewalk huddle, and you're completely surrounded by love. After a few minutes, you calm down enough to stand and kiss Joel again, making people cheer from the beach below. When you look over the rope, down to where the wildflowers are, you can see a group of your favorite people on the beach. They must've been hidden until Joel could propose, and now they're all making their joy well known with hoots and hollers. 

Joel holds your hand as the girls lead the way down to the beach, where there's a makeshift bar and picnic set up with a giant banner reading "CONGRATULATIONS" with a little ring in the middle. "This is what the errands were this morning," Joel tells you quietly, and you smile. 

"You're pretty good at keeping secrets, Miller."

"Not really. Everyone here knew I was proposing before you did," he says, and you laugh. "Besides, I'd watch it with the Miller thing considering you're becomin' one." 

"I guess that's true." You sigh happily as Ryan ambushes you, picking you up in his arms and spinning you around. You squeal until he puts you back down and immediately demands to see your ring. Carolina comes up behind him as you show him, her eyes popping out of her head at the sight.

"Damn, Joel!" She exclaims, and Joel laughs. 

"Only the best for my bride." He says. My bride. It rings in your head like a bell, echoing through your mind like gospel. You look around at the faces of everyone you've ever loved. Your manager, Sierra, and her partner, Bianca, are talking with Lili and Peter. Sarah and Ellie are running up and down the beach with Daisy, Elizabeth, and Victoria, struggling to keep up. Hank and Lucia patiently wait their turn at the bar next to Tommy and Maria. Your beauty team, Alexa and Jenna, laugh together as they talk to a handful of other costars they've also worked with. The beach is crawling with family, both of origin and found, and you wouldn't want it any other way. 

As you make your rounds with Joel on your arm, showing off your ring and trying not to cry as people tell you how happy they are for you, you wish you could show your past self this moment. The girl who packed up all her shit and moved across the world after breaking up with the love of her life. The girl who spent countless nights crying herself to sleep and going to therapy and trying to create a better life for herself. The girl who almost backed out of a coffee date three years ago because she was so scared the man on the other side of the table wouldn't like what he found. You wish she could see this and know she did the right thing. You wish she knew things ended up okay. You wish she knew she got to try again, and it changed her entire life. Wherever she is, you hope she knows she did good.

"What're you thinkin' bout?" Joel whispers in your ear as he hands you a glass of champagne. You smile and shake your head.

"Just… someone I used to know."

[13tinysocks]

hey dude! What's up :)) been just a little since l've said something

Initially, this is me saying thank you and goodbye

This isn't supposed to be a weird pity story, so l'm so unbelievably sorry if it comes off that way, lol.

When I began reading your work, I was enamoured with fiction because of personal issues (as many usually are, honestly, I know I'm one of god knows how many people trying to run away from life for just a second with fanfics or media in general). I don't know if I will ever be able to communicate this properly, hell, this will even be unbelievable funny or dramatic but I need to get this across because it's coming from a genuine place. Your stories and work thus far has brought me comfort, immense heaps of it, and even still when I deal with things that feel out of reach or too much to actually face head on I find myself wandering back to syg or just your blog in general

I mean this, from my entire heart, thank you and thank Bee. A million times thank you, for making that one silly silly stupid piece of fanfiction, because oh my god it got me through some major stressful hardships within my life for the past 3 years.

I am leaving tumblr, however I’m aware I have submitted asks with my actual accounts before, so you'll likely be able to see they're still gonna be up. I'm just deleting tumblr the app instead of my account, but for other social platforms they will be deleted properly (such as quotev) so I won’t be indulging in much reading anymore when it comes to fanfics and such lol

I don't know if I'll come back, if I do I likely will not be back for long or to be as active as l've been because of the toll social media’s taken. So even as ridiculous as this feels, to tell someone I’m simply a fan of and barely truly know, that their fanfic of murderers and their love story with my self insert kept me pushing through a lot of tough days, I genuinely just had to.

I needed to thank both you and your partner for the work you've both put out. I still have that smiley pin I’d made, and I will cherish what you made quotev have been for me ( I literally found out about the website during early or late 2020 I can barely remember, then later found your fic, I was DEEP DIVING into that shit LMAO )

I hope whatever happens for you and bee in the future is only good, and I only will wish nothing but the best of luck with everything man.

feel free to post this (idk what it’s called but when you publicly reply lol) or not, as long as you read this it’ll mean lots to me !! >:))

your coolest weirdest ticci toby fan whose also named toby, 🐚 annon

I always struggle to convey gratefulness for messages like this and readership- especially repeated readership. My life would be different if it were not for comments and messages egging us on to keep writing from syg to ho1c. While it's easy to say that writing is solely out of passion for the craft there is also the drive to share something with others. Hearing those others loud or quiet as a favorite- does push us forward when we have no motivation or desire to work. That drive has made us closer as a couple, better thinkers, and a halfway decent writing team. I thank you and all the others who send us stuff even if it's shit post asks I never answer because I like having them in my inbox like a personal horde of platonic Valentine's. I like keeping the pieces you give me to myself sometimes. I know it may seem like I'm ignoring you but I find genuine comfort in these messages. That there are so many. That they are so varied. That we have reached beyond our shut-in existence to touch the lives of others.

I find myself wondering where an anon has gone when I do not hear from them in awhile. I wish them well. I wish them better standards than us.

Maybe we'll meet again someday space cowboy. If you're ever back in town feel free to shoot me (a message).

Thank you for reaching out. Thank you for reading. I wish you peace and love and good books.

[ariariari-freehounreal]

Huhh so I’m like thinking of an au mostly to justify my chelley week stuff being mostly human Wheatley and like. Idk domestic au/survival au and? Wheatley is a human but like not always a human so maybeeee. Chell has been out of aperture for awhile…maybe like two years or something and she’s kinda just living like. She’s living in some abandoned cabin in the woods a couple miles from aperture because she’s too scared to be too close but feels too alone and alienated and scared to look for other people really.

But like maybe every now and then she goes and checks on the shed and makes sure nothing’s changed because she’s scared someone might get caught and dragged down there or something but no one ever does.

But like ONE DAY! She goes over and there’s just some fuckin guy in the wheat field and she’s like

Oh fuck. Is this guy dead.

And she pokes him with a stick and he’s like

Whuh?? Oh! Hi! oh.

And she’s like

I know that fucking voice WHAT THE FUCK

and he makes up some bullshit ass story GLaDOS told him to tell but ACTUALLY he’s not even really human and he’s an android or a weird hologram thing like in bluesky or some shit and. GLaDOS sent him up to try to get more test subjects! So they like. Idk there’s a whole story and shit where they try to find more humans and then something happens and Chells like

…you’re not even a person are you…

And he’s like UHHHH WELLL. I WAS GONNA TELL YUO BUT I DIDNT WANT YOU TO BE MAD BUT LIKE FUCK GLADOS RIGHT HAHAHAAHHH EUG….

Andchells like UHHH FUCK YOU?? LIAR. STUPID ASS LIAR .

But idk it’s resolved then it’s all okay and shit happy ending yeah. It’s actually 3am rn idk maybe one day I’ll write a fanfic.

Extra stuff:

Chell only wears a jumpsuit around him for a LONG TIME bc she has lots of scars from aperture and seeing them messes with her and also she doesn’t want him to know that he’s had any long term effect on her [physical and mental scars] even tho it’s obvious this bitch is traumatized she’s just in so much denial LOL

Chell has like. A little garden and maybe a couple geese or something like a mini farm idk . All makeshift crap

[instant-bull]

Do you have any favorite little headcanons for any of the founders that you kind of default use no matter the fic or setting

Great question! I have plenty of headcanons for these guys, but some of them are indeed too specific to be universal for every kind of setting, so taking out those that actually could be more universal is difficult. This is gonna be a pretty long one, so I'll be nice and put a divider up.

Tobirama:

Tobirama is on the autism spectrum, and since it's fantasy Edo period, it can be something incredibly hard for him to navigate. I believe representing his ASD can be a slippery slope, given how easy it would be to simplify him into "autistic boy genius with no social skills" stereotype, which I find very trite. He sure is a genius, given his excessive achievements in jutsus, and maybe his social skills aren't amazing, but he's definitely trying his best and I don't think he comes off as heartless. I would have to write a seperate post all about his autism, because this post could reach 10k words if I continue right now.

Tobirama's mother came from the Hatake clan. Pretty straightforward, it would explain why he looks so different and also creates drama around him for being different. Albino!Tobirama is not a bad concept either, but it doesn't bring me as much joy. @fashionredalert gave me a fantastic prompt of the Senju clan being far less obsessed with blood than the Uchiha, which also makes a very compelling story beat (hi Amy :) )

Tobirama's seals are tattooed, or carved into his face (depending on my mood teehee). The ones on his face help him see, since generally he'd be considered legally blind. Adds additional drama if he were to be captured or imprisoned.

Hashirama:

Hashirama is a very loving older brother. He's suffered so much loss in his life and now, left with only one baby brother, he makes sure to love and cherish him as much as possible. Sure, he was ready to give up Tobirama's right to the Hokage title for Madara, but I believe he had only the best of intentions and that decision didn't come from his distrust in Tobirama himself.

Mokuton kinda... does shit to Hashirama's brain. Not necessarily dark!Hashirama concept on its own, but definitely something that impacts his perception and his way of living. Trees talk to him and he talks to the trees. Does he listen to their instructions? What do the trees want?

Hashirama is taller than his canon height, because I said so. Oh... tall like a tree...

Madara:

I never really look to Kishimoto's art for body references, since he tends to draw all bodies in a very similar way. That being said I see Madara as a real rectangle of a man, 0 waist, big arms, big chest, big legs, sprinkle in a nice layer of fat on top and you have my man. I'd bite into him any day.

I'll eat rocks before I render Madara a pathetic meow meow. He's a complex man with layers of pride and shame (mmm... lasagna...), and making him pathetic or really dense in order to elevate Tobirama or Hashirama (I've seen it happen in both cases) just makes me sad. I let him be his smart, brash self.

Madara has horrible, horrible oral fixation and is generally a huge weirdo in bed<3

Izuna:

Izuna is kind of a blank slate and I love him to bits. I've enjoyed a lot of different characterisations people give him, but I think my most favourite of all are the ones where he's quite chill. His brother is always on some shit with Hashirama, and Tobirama has a stick so deep up his ass it must scratch his brain: of course Izuna wouldn't be able to take all of that seriously all the time. He cares deeply for his clan and maybe dies for its sake (depends on a fic you know), but he's not a stoic, nor a haughty warrior.

That being said, I quite enjoy making Izuna an obnoxious brat when interacting with Tobirama. I think pushing his buttons and seeing him react so viciously makes Izuna's day better. Torment that stupid bitch, yay!!

You can always make an argument that his happy-go-lucky attitude is a facade that protects him from pain. Let's not forget how much suffering this boy has experienced from a very young age. You can always put a sense of profound sadness into him and make me, as a reader or a writer, suffer from heartache.

Mito:

I love Mito and Mito erasure is frowned upon in this household. She's a strong person, a master of seals, and probably one of the only forces in this universe that could pull Hashirama down from whatever bullshit he'd go on. They love each other tremendously and have an incredibly strong bond. Their sex life must be insane...

Mito has a fierce Uzumaki attitude, and has a strong presence around the Senju clan, who generally treat her with respect (after all, she's the clan head's wife). Do not cross her, I cannot stress this enough.

She enjoys spending time with her brother-in-law, since they are both crazy about seals and could talk, speculate and experiment with them for hours on end. At first, when Hashirama was yet to be married, Tobirama had a huge anxiety about talking to her, because she felt like this idol of seal-craft and Tobirama felt silly</3

Phew? I think that's the main ones, which I think are pretty universal to any fic I write. Thank you for the ask, sorry for the longest possible answer!

[noffy96]

My first Afterdeath fic

So decided to try my hand at some afterdeath for a change. Had this idea a while ago, but it was slow going to get made. But i am very proud of the result. Hope you all enjoy as well.

also shortest story not made for a event in while, seems i can write under 6000 words XD

Take a break.

Word count: 3,833

Chapter 1/1

Summary:

He tried to move his wings, but his back felt so heavy. Then the scythe slid out of his hands and clattered loudly to the floor. He stumbled after it trying to catch it, but instead, he fell forward. He expected to hit the ground. But landed on something soft instead. What was that? He didn’t own any carpets…? It also didn’t feel like his bed.

He tried to move up but his head was screaming at him to stop. To just lay down in this warmth and take a rest. Something touched the back of his head, his hood had been blown back. It felt familiar.. and warm...

Or

Reaper overworks himself and collapses after accidentally teleporting to the save screen.

--link here to AO3--

or continue below the read more line

He came to a staggering stop and stared at the pulsing soul in front of him. The guy had been stubborn and strong. Types like him usually were. He reached for the soul, and could still feel it cry out. Even with no physical form left, it tried to fight. Strong for a simple monster soul. He wiped the blood off his face with his sleeve.

And did his best to send a calming presence, as well as sorrow and regret through his magic. He didn’t blame any soul for fighting, for trying to live that bit longer. No, but it didn’t make his job any easier. He summoned his scythe and cut through the white pulsing soul and it faded away. He hoped the young soul could find some rest.

He staggered forward, catching himself on the handle of his weapon. His wings dragged on the floor, at some point it had simply become too tiresome to keep them hidden in the ether. He was exhausted, he had to fight the last ten souls he had to reap. Each one fought back harder than the last, and before that, he had an entire universe full of souls that he had to reap after Error had gotten a hold of the universe and destroyed it. So many confused and lost souls, and not having enough time to give the full comfort he wanted to give. He hasn’t been home or visited his love for a long while.

That is what he gets for slacking off. He pushed himself uprighting with a flap of his wings. Summoning his clipboard from the ether, the ringing of the souls calling for him became louder in his skull the second he touched it. He didn’t know who decided to make that a good idea. To amplify the sound of souls calling for death the second he touched it. Like he couldn’t hear them on a daily basis. And it was making the headache he was having worse.

He bet it was Asgore’s idea, just to torture him. He tried to get it removed, for his brothers' sake. But none of the other gods were willing to help them…or shall he say, weren’t willing to go against Asgore, They were willing to help his baby brother any way they could. And he was thankful for that. He could care less what they thought of him. He got everything he wanted, in the form of an angry, grumpy little skeleton. If only he could get him out of that bleak dark world, and he be perfectly happy.

He leaned against his scythe and squinted at the list, trying to read the swirling words. Next stop…a Horrortale universe. That was probably gonna be another fight. He hoped he could catch this one unaware, but he doubted it. They are too alert for their own good sometimes.

He held his head as a shot of pain went through his head, clutching the clipboard to his front so it wouldn’t drop to the floor. The cries were getting louder, did that stupid destroyer kill another universe?!. He was never gonna see Geno again at this rate.

He grumbled and went to put away his list of names when he saw streaks of blue were now on the paper.

How did those get there? His free hand went to his chest. And felt that his robe was kinda wet, he looked down to see that his chest was a darker black than the rest, and the brown rope holding it together was stained as well.

Oh….he was bleeding…

Okay, he’d go home and change robes then, he doesn’t need another reason for those horror monsters to spot him. He rubbed at his tired face accidentally leaving blood streaks all over.

Great.

Fuck it, he was tired. He didn’t really have time to change. But if he doesn’t his next job may take longer with how many horror monsters would be able to sniff him, so Asgore can suck it. And hey, maybe he can spot his brother. This way he can find a way to apologize for all the times he made the younger cover for him.

With a sigh, he straightened himself and began to think of home. The place he wouldn’t be judged, where he and his brother could be themselves. Where he could relax, on a warm couch and not think about the ringing in his skull that signaled that his work would never be truly done. Warm hands massaging away the pain. The quiet of the darkness.

He teleported, and his whole vision swam. And his none existing eyelights went out, leaving the void sockets even darker. He summoned his scythe again, and the staff of it landed on the ground with a loud chunk, echoing loudly in the room, making his ears ring.

He was sure, he heard something else, but all he could focus on was to keep standing. Wait.. Why was he standing…? He could float?! That will take the weight off his back.

He tried to move his wings, but his back felt so heavy. Then the scythe slid out of his hands and clattered loudly to the floor. He stumbled after it trying to catch it, but instead, he fell forward. He expected to hit the ground. But landed on something soft instead. What was that? He didn’t own any carpets…? It also didn’t feel like his bed.

He tried to move up but his head was screaming at him to stop. To just lay down in this warmth and take a rest. Something touched the back of his head, his hood had been blown back. It felt familiar.. and warm..

“Don’t..move Reaps…”

“Geno?” he wasn’t sure if he spoke it, or only thought it, as darkness consumed him. Worried about his partner, how was he out of the save screen…that should kill him.

It felt like he was swimming in that worry for a while, darkness clinging to him, and trying to keep him under wraps. At some point early on, the ringing in his head got softer. And a warmth spread slowly through him, dragging him back to sleep.

When it finally spat him out at the other end, he was feeling better, but no less tired. But something was stroking his skull gently, and holding him in place. And he had to know what happened to Geno. So he opened his eyes, only to find that it was still dark, but this darkness was familiar.

“How did I…?” he murmured confusedly.

“Reaps..?”

He looked up to see the worried face of his boyfriend.

“You’re awake..”

The relief in the other's voice made something clench in his own chest. He had never meant, to make him worry in any way. He tried to lift his arm, it felt like lead, but he managed to cup his love's face anyway.

“Hey…Darling, “

He wanted to flirt, make the other fluster, maybe give a teasing wink. Geno would get huffy. But he’d know he was alright.

A kiss was placed on top of his head. He must look terrible if the other gave him affection so readily without making a fuss. Closing his eyes he leaned into the gesture, eyes fluttering open as the other pulled away.

“What happened Reaps?”

Fingers were stroking along his skull again, keeping the ringing in his head far away.

“Dunno was just trying to get home…”

Geno’s one good eye narrowed.

“Someone tried to attack you when you made a portal? Those cowards..”

He blinked up confused,

“What.?” He didn't use a portal? He only used that when bringing someone along. Otherwise, he just teleported.

“I’ll find whoever did this to you reaps, and then they wished they could have had death instead “

Geno continued to rant, and his soul got filled to the brim with affection for this small monster trying to defend a god. And he partly didn’t wanna correct him, but he also didn’t want the other to look for an attacker that wasn’t even there.

“No..no love..nobody attacked me…well no one, that I wasn’t reaping,”

Geno’s still frowned, apparently not satisfied.

“Then what?”

He closed his eyes, his head was still pounding. His ribs were also starting to ache terribly. There was probably a crack in them considering the bleeding. Now that he thought back to it it was a bit embarrassing what had happened. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Trying to think of a way to phrase it, without sounding like a total idiot and for Geno to throw him off.

“Reaper?”

“It’s nothing…”

He mumbled. He regretted it as soon as he said it. And he felt the hands around him tighten harshly.

“Nothing?! NOTHING?!. You suddenly appeared into the safe screen covered in blood, and just collapsing and you call it nothing?! “

He shrank back into his hood.

“I...I didn’t mean”

“You didn't mean what reaper?! Do you have any idea how fucking scared I was? You just…collapsed. You were walking for fucks sake! I just managed to catch you. You could have cracked your skull open, and then what? What was I supposed to do then? There is nothing here to help you!”

He didn’t answer, there was not much he could say that would make this okay. Then something wet his face and he looked back up into Geno’s eye to see he was crying

Tears falling from his eye onto his own face

“I was scared you big dumb bird brain. Stupid fucking asshole… really scared”

His love shoulders shook, and for a moment all he could do was stare wide-eyed up. As more tears fell onto his face. He scrambled to sit up and turn around. Softly holding onto Geno’s upper arms.

“Fuck..Geno..No..sorry. I am so sorry. I just…I knew you would get mad at me when I told you what happened..and..fuck I didn’t mean to scare you. I really had no idea it looked so bad. I never wanted to scare you like that. Ever my love. “

He rubbed Geno’s arms softly up and down. Even though all he wanted to do was warp his lover up in his arms. But Geno might just punch him in the gut for that move. Geno glared up at him. And he hangs his head

“Yeah…stupid I know. I’ll tell you what really happened. Promise!..Just..I am so sorry.”

They sat there for a while, Him slowly stroking Geno’s arms up and down. While Geno still glared at him. Tears flowed from his eye But slowly got a hold of himself.

Eventually, Geno pulled back, backing into the corner of the couch, wiping at his face

“Talk”

He nodded settling against the opposite corner, with a groan. Now that he wasn’t as worried about his love he could feel all the aches and pains coming back. Then hissed as his crooked wing got folded in between himself and the cushion on his side. Grubling as he had to tug it free, as it felt too heavy to move on its own.

He glanced back over to Geno. Who still looked quite put out, but seemed to have softened at watching him struggle. Eye glancing towards his front, he wondered if it was stained with blood still. He sighed deeply and decided to start talking.

“I think…I think I might have just passed out from overworking?” He felt a flush come over his face

“I just…I hadn't had any time to eat or drink in days. Much less rest, so…”

He trailed off as Geno had come closer looking worried again.

“What do you mean with?… You haven’t rested?”

He blinked his sockets a couple of times

“Like I said, I just haven’t really rested. I didn’t sleep at all since I last saw you. I think I had one snack..maybe? Just has been going from one soul to the next. I had such a backlog and I didn't wanna burden Grim with it, he has already done it so often and…”

He trailed off as Geno’s hands wrapped around his own again. A complicated look on his face.

“You had one snack…and no sleep…in the entire month that I haven't seen you?”

He blinked his sockets a couple of times, He knew that it had been a while since he had returned. But a month?! He was usually faster than that. But then again, normally he didn’t have such a backlog.

He really had been throwing things on the back burner for a while.

“I guess so” He gave a bit of a helpless shrug.

“You guess so?” Geno’s gaze and voice hardened. And he swallowed thickly having the feeling he messed up somehow. Even if he didn’t know why.

“....Yes…?” He said hesitantly

Geno let go of his hands suddenly to grab at his arms pulling him back across the couch. His wings flapped a couple of times in confusion. Having not expected the action at all, he was quickly maneuvered to lie down across the couch once more. His head was in Geno's lap and was feeling surprisingly soft... Staring up at his boyfriend with wide eyes. As Geno’s arms surrounded him. Essentially trapping him.

One of his wings was crookedly smushed between them, the other spread out to the floor. He tried, to sit up, but was stopped at every move

“G-geno? Love? “

“You are not going anywhere!”

Geno said quietly and angrily. Tears had sprung up in his eye once more.

“You are taking a break, you are gonna eat. And rest. Until you are at full strength again, and not a moment sooner do you hear me!”

He stared at his boyfriend for a couple of seconds. His love seemed to take that as consent. Geno pulled out his phone and started texting someone.

“Wait…Gen…As much as I want to…I can’t let Grimm do all the work. That’s not…”

His boyfriend shut him up by covering his mouth with his hand and pushing him back down. His eyesocket narrowed, and he swallowed thickly. Trying to fight the blush that was coming up at being manhandled.

“You don’t get a say in this after you stopped taking care of yourself for a month”

He gently took hold of his love wrist trying to pry his love hand off. He used more and more force until he could eventually do so.

“Geno..Honey, Babe. I love you, But I am immortal. Literal god of death. I can’t die. I don’t need to sleep or eat. You won’t get rid of me that easily”

He tried to give his boyfriend a reassuring smile. But Geno's look told him he was not impressed.

“I did believe you, if you didn’t just show up, bleeding all over, passing out, while trying to get home. Seriously how do you mess that up if no one attacked you”

And his face flushed for an entirely different reason. He remembered what he had been thinking about. And his face felt like it was on fire. Geno seemed surprised at his sudden shyness. his hand retracting further. A very light flush appeared on his own face.

“W-what’s that look for..”

Telling the truth would probably fluster his boyfriend to the point that he was probably getting shoved off his lap again. But lying….or at least withholding it. He shouldn’t do that twice. So averting his gaze he mumbled.

“Cause I started to think of you as my home…”

It was barely audible. But he could still hear Geno gasp. He did a quick glance upward. To see that Geno’s entire face was blushing red. He had the feeling his own was entirely flushed blue as well.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, to his surprise, he was not being shoved off. Normally even his serenest of compliments got a huff and a shove out of his prickly boyfriend. But not this time. He couldn’t tell why, maybe because he was hurt. But he would take this rare display. But what surprised him more was the moment he felt a kiss on his cheek. Making him turn his head to completely face his boyfriend again. To get a second kiss on his teeth.

A hand came to cradle his face. As their magic sparked gently, he let his eyes slip shut. His own arms came up to hold onto Geno’s hovering form above him. As he returned the soft kiss.

Slow kisses weren’t really either of their styles. But… This was nice, Really nice. He could stay like this for a long time he thought. In this gentle hold. He couldn’t help the gasp as Geno squeezed him a bit tighter.

Surprised to feel Geno’s tongue slip past his teeth. But it wasn’t hungry, or searching. Nor was it trying to send him over the edge. Or trying to overtake him. It was a gentle lazy, curious slide against his own formed tongue. As he was slowly pushed back further into couch cushions.

For several minutes they continued to kiss like that. Like nothing else mattered. It made him feel utterly loved. It was very nice. Not that he hadn’t known that Geno loved him. But…

Yeah…they should slow down more often.

The kiss came to an end, when eventually, in their slight shifting it felt like multiple feathers were gonna be pulled out of his wings. And he couldn’t help the sudden yelp as he pulled away with a flinch. Opening his eyes he only just noticed his other wing had come above them, hiding them both further away from any onlookers. Not that the save screen had any other occupants. They stared at each other. Both their faces still flushed, as they were panting softly. Geno shifted, and he opened his mouth. Probably gonna ask if he was okay.

But it made his already folded wing pull on more loose feathers, and he let out another hiss. And he muttered before his lover could ask.

“Can you free my wing please, my love?”

Geno’s eyes winded sitting back up.

“Shit, of course…”

And he let out a sigh of relief as with his boyfriend's help it was pulled free. His other wing fell back tiredly to the floor. As if it had been held up by strings and they were suddenly cut off.

Geno looked at them with concern

“You really… ain't letting me leave?…are you?”

Geno shook his head, still staring at the wing he had just freed. Fingertips tracing at the upper arch making him shiver slightly.

“Texted your brother already, you ain't getting your clipboard back for a while…So no reaping for you. He is gonna drop by later, to check on you”

He hummed, Guilt still churning in his chest. He didn’t like it. But he also knows when he has lost. There wasn’t much he could do against the combined forces of his brother and lover. Besides he scared the living daylights out of his love already. Maybe he should take some measures to ensure it won’t happen again.

And his brother coming to check on him, wouldn’t be the first. Man, he was gonna need to find some other way to repay him it seems.

“When was the last time you groomed them”

He blinked open his eyes. Now that he had decided there was nothing left for him to go to. All the fight had left his body. The exhausting catching up to him again, and he took a moment to parse the question.

“Dunno…” he mumbled, Eyes drooping again as Geno began to softly card his hands through his wings. Righting a few in the process. “Two months ago… I think…maybe longer..”

“You should take better care of them…”

“Was busy. “ He mumbled, his face turning towards his love nuzzling into the soft ecto body summoned below him. Was Geno trying to make him more comfortable so he wasn’t lying on bones? That was a sweet thought

“All that time grooming is time I can spend with you…my job calls me away far too often to worry too much about that”

Geno’s hands stilled, and he smiled. Pretty sure his lover was once again flushed that pretty red. He could open his eyes and check. But instead, he turned to his side, curling further into Geno.

Who spluttered a bit but didn’t push him off, so he warped his tired arms around his boyfriend's middle, burring further into him. Mumbling

“Can you keep touching them?”

Geno’s ministrations had stopped in his wiggling about. But the fingers quickly returned. Feeling them gently strike down the entire length. Sometimes fingers scratch a bit across the bones and ecto keeping the feathers in place. Making him let out a soft noise and leave a soft kiss…wherever his head was resting against his love's body.

Then the other went back to slowly fixing the strew feathers. Pulling away loose once that got stuck in the mess. Sometimes shaking them gently, and he heard and felt dirt and grime falling out of them.

“I’ll give you a proper grooming later…”

Geno’s voice was soft, and he might not have picked it up at all. If all he was focussed on was the feeling of those hands in his wings, and his lovers breathing. A blush crept back up his face. He hid his face further into what he realized now was Geno’s stomach.

“You don’t have to.”

He mumbled. He could do it on his own. He just didn’t like it.

The hands in his wings stilled, and he let out a confused hum, only to get a kiss on the side of his skull again. Where his love breathed

“I want to..”

It made him shiver.

“Just like you wanna pamper and love me. I want to do the same, so let me return the favor for once”

He squeezed Geno again and gave another nod. There was another kiss placed against his skull. Then his hood was tugged a bit further around him as if to protect him from the cold. Hand returning to their soft ministrations.

It made relaxing easy. Yeah, his ribs were probably busted, and still ached and hurt like hell. He might need Grimm to take him to Life to heal the crack. There was still a loud ringing in his head. Trying to call him to work. But with every stroke on his back. The sound drifted future and further away. He could close his eyes for a few minutes.

And within one deep breath and the next. He was asleep. Warped in a cocoon of his boyfriend's love. Feeling that for once, no one was about to get him. He was somewhere where he was, well and truly safe. He was home.

[relatableblorbopoll]

Round 1 of preliminaries, group 3

The first two places get a place on the bracket

Little reminder: there will be 2 more rounds of preliminaries, the losing blorbos of this poll still have 2 chances of getting in the official bracket

Propaganda under the cut

Conner Bailey (The Land of Stories)

"He falls asleep in class and never hands in his work and gets bad grades but has lots of friends and a big imagination. Likes to write fantasy and science fiction (and maybe other genres as well), and bases a lot of his stories on his own adventures with his sister."

Lucy Honeychurch (A Room With A View)

"trapped in a relationship they feel obligated to maintain ? meanwhile meeting this weirdo who makes question marks out of his dinner and stuff? yeah this was so me and one point and literally helped me break up with my shitty ex. i love lucy honeychurch so much, she just wants to play dumb games with her brother and not be suffocated and live"

Greg Heffley (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

"Let's be honest, most of us in middle school were a whiny self-centric bitches, and he's a prefect example of this. He will make snarky comments and wonder why a small child cired becuase of them, find his older brother annoying, be disgusted by his younger sib, make mean jokes towards his closest friend and just KNOW that one day he'll be rich and do nothing"

Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb)

"She's a cocky butch lesbian who can't pull, and I would bet real money she's adhd. Incredibly unreliable narrator, partially because she tunes out of anything uninteresting to her (like the plot), partially because she's not on speaking terms with her own feelings. Deep down she's angry, and lonely, and convinced she's not good enough, and she's terrified to look it all in the eye. She'll keep all her feelings right here and then someday she'll die joking about it."

Akaashi Keiji (Haikyuu!!)

"Outwardly chill 99% of the time but a serial overthinker. Once screamed into his hands when stressed and acted like nothing was wrong right after (see: Image link)."

Burgerpants (Undertale)

"My propaganda is his game dialogue: - "(WHY IS THIS PERSON TRYING TO SELL ME SOMETHING THIS IS A HAMBURGER RESTAURANT I'M JUST TRYING TO SURVIVE)" - "What? Why do you keep trying to talk to me? I'll get in trouble if I get chummy with the customers. Sorry. ... SO, I wanted to be an ACTOR-." - "You've still got time. Don't live like me. I'm 19 years old and I've already wasted my entire life." - "Listen. I like you, little buddy. So I'm gonna save you a lot of trouble. Never interact with attractive people." - "Future? WHAT future? Nothing down here EVER changes. I'll probably be trapped at this stupid job forever. - "Ah... my boss. I love that guy. And by that I mean I hate him so, so much." - "Here's a trick, little buddy: Lie to yourself all the time. It makes you feel better." - "Even if it was just working this awful job... I think I did something! I don't know if it's true, but I'll believe it anyway!" - "Huh? Everyone else is DEAD? ... Does that mean I don't have to work today? God. That it were true, little weirdo. That it were true." - "I can't go to hell. I'm all out of vacation days." "

[corvuscorona]

STATUS REPORT:

AFM sequel - had some fun w/ this one over the weekend. it's like:

[ ❚_❚__||||____|||❚||❚|❚|❚❚❚ ] ← it's this many done. p.s. why won't tumblr let me use red at all what ....... dude.

Long Thing - chunk 1 (small) and chunk 2 (medium-big) have a HEAVY-DUTY outline with almost no bullshit in it now. chunk 3 (BIG) might also have that; I just haven't actually manifested it into a document yet (ran out of sunday). chunk 4 (medium-big again) has the makings of Real Outlineability as well but it'll probably fight me more when I start actually trying to make it real. chunk 5 (medium?) is slowly orbiting closer and closer to me in my dreams. 6 (???) and 7 (small) are phantoms still; don't rush them. they're shy.

Highly E-Rated Thing - haven't worked on it because the 2 above projects are so Perfectly Balanced. it will choose its moment.

AFM chapter 5 - similarly it will choose its moment. for instance a moment when I am like way too full of beans & need something to put a lot of brain thoughts into.

I may not have anything specific to contribute to Jackstos June or most likely Jackstos July either but everyone else has been BRINGING IT so hey. *offers a gay little applause that pisses you off*.

next: I'm gonna talk to myself below the cut I'm thinking about THE PROCESS.

*elaborates on Long Fucking Thing some more because that's what I use like 3/4 of my brain for all the time now* it's interesting to see plot arcs shape up / to have a way to really consciously note "this part still might need This kind of thing," for reasons:

because both the story & the way I'm working on it are nonlinear, sometimes the note I'm making is "if you haven't established that Event A happened by this point, the scene that has to go here for thematic coherency reasons will not make. logical sense" (genuinely very funny thing to have to consider)

a LOT of the places where I currently have "uh think harder about this later" types of notes are like. have directly to do w/ Facts And Lore that are tangential to the story but critical to the worldbuilding (which REALLY makes them NOT tangential to the story. they're formative and important it's just that I have to Decide Them backwards to make sure they're forming the story elements in the direction I already want those to be going)

I'm realizing by thinking about the Process in this way that this is all very related to the Reasons the latter half of the fic is still pretty up in the air. It works like this okay bear with me:

I start with emotional beats I find compelling. Then I string together facts and events that make them important + create a compelling narrative arcs-and-themes-ways. Then I retroactively define the worldstate and LoreFacts based on "what would make this string of happenings happen in a way that isn't stupid". (I Am Currently Here). As the World Facts become more rigidly defined, I run into "things I should either address or change an existing Something to avoid addressing," and like this the places where there aren't currently things like "scenes" or "concrete events" gradually get filled in.

The concrete Things That Need To Happen in the final 3 chunks of this fic depend so heavily on the WORLDSTATE that it's been impossible to generate most of them up until now. I have to finish (~) defining Facts (based on the emotional beats I already know how I'll be covering in the first half of the story) before I can get my gay little fingers in there and start tying things into cute little bows. THIS MAKES A SHOCKING AMOUNT OF SENSE SOMEHOW I'M so used to writing smedium-length things where half the time I write the VERY end first because that's where ALL the emotional payoff lives.

NOT SO THIS TIME. THERE IS EMOTIONAL PAYOFF ALL OVER THE FIRST HALF OF THIS THING & it would probably be difficult and inadvisable to do a whole lot more with the second half before I make sure I know what shrimplications I'm shrimplying based on (checks my watch for some reason) like 3 entire Structural Plot Arcs of Gay BullShit. huh.