#i also agreed to get up extra early one of the days i'm watching the pair to feed them at like 6 and like 🧍🏻‍♀️ i'm actually just going

[liinos]

the way my head is spinning trying to plan out my fucking day today... i need to stop agreeing to things and also my neighbors need to stop having their dogs eat and go out and such at the same time

[megwritesriddles]

Redhanded ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 5 - Spanking. Reader is caught in the restricted section after curfew by none other than Head Boy Tom Riddle, notorious for his harsh punishments. But he has something else in mind, just for her.

Tags: Spanking, Impact play, Fingering, Dubious consent, Abuse of power, Head boy Riddle, Punishment, Under-negotiated kink, Degradation, Praise kink, Spit kink, Dom!Riddle, Sub!Reader, Teasing, Kinda fluffy right at the end.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 2.8k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: I went with my original idea for the plot of this one, meaning I'm still not sure what the plot for blackmail (day 15, also tom) will be!! I've had a few suggestions but I'm still open to more, send 'em in if you have them!! I personally found this one very hot, fingers crossed you agree!! Hope you like it mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The night felt darker than usual, the moon and stars covered by a thick blanket of clouds. An early October chill ran throughout the castle, nothing unbearable, just enough to make you shiver periodically. Your fingers traced the spines of various old tomes, your lips pursed as you searched intently. In an attempt to counter the oppressive darkness, you squint to try and read the titles. Call it academic curiosity, that had led you into the restricted section in the middle of the night, but there might have been a little more than that behind it. You rounded the end of a row of bookshelves, continuing your search on the other side. You couldn’t seem to find what you were looking for, but it had to be here, it seemed incredibly unlikely that it would have been taken out by another student. Passes to the restricted section were handed out incredibly scarcely, and permission to borrow a book, to take it elsewhere in the castle where a younger student might come across it, was even more rare. You were lucky, the enchanted rope guarding the section didn’t have a concept of time, which they really should have realised by now. Using the pass that Slughorn had given you for your extra credit project you were able to get in semi-legitimately. Sure, you weren’t supposed to be here after curfew, but at least you did technically have permission to be here, just some other time. 

Several other books pique your interest as you search, but you still can’t find exactly the book you came for. You sigh quietly in frustration, watching the puff of air that comes from your mouth displace some dust on the shelf in front of you, rattling a nearby cobweb. Drumming your fingers against the dusty shelf and staring out of the filthy window, you try to think if you’ve missed anything. You’ve searched every related section up and down, even checking the small fiction section for the author’s name, just in case it was somehow incorrectly categorised, then you had tried the history section, wondering if the book was so old that it had been put there. No such luck, of course. What bothered you the most was the lack of any noticeable gaps anywhere in the shelves, suggesting that it shouldn’t be missing either. Had they removed it from the library? Why would they have? You’d come across several books that were more controversial or more out of date during your search. Why would they–?

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the sudden voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Your blood runs cold, your whole body tenses painfully and you let out a little squeak. You whip around to find the owner of the voice, glaring. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you hiss, too high on adrenaline to assess if this was a good move. The owner of the voice, Tom Riddle, smirks ever so slightly at that before his face turns neutral again.

“My apologies, but you are breaking the rules quite callously, Miss,” he answers smoothly. He stands tall, hands clasped neatly behind his back, looking nothing short of unamused. In the dim lighting, he almost looks black and white, his Head Boy badge glinting on his chest. You frown at him.

“I’m allowed to be here,” you answer stupidly, because, no, you’re not actually and he knows it too. He raises a brow.

“You are, are you?” the corners of his lips twitch up. “And who, pray tell, gave you this permission?” he taunts, taking a measured step toward you. With a sigh, you present the permission slip from Slughorn to him. His hand comes from behind his back to take it from you, his fingers long and elegant. He inspects the pass. “There’s no stipulation here about nighttime visits,” he hums.

“Perhaps I misread,” you laugh anxiously. He gives you a look, telling you he isn’t buying this.

“We both know you’re too intelligent for that,” he drawls. You can’t help the slight smile that flashes over your face at the acknowledgement of your intelligence. He smiles too, but his smile feels predatory. The two of you don’t know each other well, never sharing classes or friendship circles. You’re peripherally aware of one another, having been in the same year group for the last seven years. Of course, these days, you’re more aware of him through his position as Head Boy. His patrols, his occasional speeches at dinners and his overall use as an example by many professors made it impossible to only be vaguely aware of him anymore. It flattered you slightly to realise he knew anything about you at all since he likely would have had to seek this information out on purpose. He hands you the slip back. “I’ll have to come to Slughorn about getting that slip taken from you, but as it is, I don’t have the authority to take it from you without his permission,” he talks slowly, you can tell he seems annoyed that he can not strip you of these privileges. “In the meantime, I can dish out punishment for being out after curfew, unless you have another permission slip you’d like to produce,”

“No,” you sigh and he smiles, nodding.

“Good girl,” he purrs. You glare at him for his condescending language, but neither of you misses the blush that blossoms on your cheeks. He just smiles. “Now, punishments…” he taps his chin mockingly. “Any suggestions?” you roll your eyes. Riddle was known among the student body for being fairly harsh in his punishments for those he didn’t wish to keep friendly with, usually only for networking reasons. You’d never been caught misbehaving by him before, you didn’t tend to misbehave much at all, just your luck that the one time you do, it’s him who catches you. You doubted strongly that he considered you a friend, and you didn’t have much to offer in the way of connections. You just purse your lips in annoyance, waiting for him to reveal how many hours you’d be doing in detention. He looks you up and down for a moment. “Do you like the idea of detention?” he asks, his voice low.

“No, obviously not,” you scoff. He inches closer. 

“What if I came up with an alternative punishment? A special one just for you…” He whispers, towering above you, you feel his breath fanning over your forehead. You wish you didn’t have to give him the satisfaction of tipping your head back to meet his eyes. You scrutinise him for a moment, taking in his subtle smirk. 

“Like what?”

“So many questions,” he tuts. “Yes or no? You can have your ten hours of detention if you really like,” he grins. Ten hours? That was just ridiculous, but you knew he wasn’t bluffing. He would find a way to write you up for that many hours if he really wanted to. You knew it was a trap, even as you walked right in.

“Yes, fine, alternative punishment,” you sigh in defeat. He takes ahold of one of your wrists, making you jolt slightly. He’s dragging you out of the library before your brain can catch up. He strides confidently through the halls, not a care in the world about being caught leading you around for whatever nefarious purposes he had. You discern after a little while that you’re being led to the Head’s dormitories. “Where are we going?” you try, but he ignores you, pulling you up to the portrait. He whispers something to it, too quiet for you to hear, and the portrait swings open. You don’t have much time to register your unfamiliar surroundings before he’s yanking you through the small common room down a hall and then into what you can only imagine is his bedroom. It’s quite large, especially for only one person. It’s about the size of the dorm that you have to share between five, with it’s own attached bathroom. You take a moment to take the room in when he lets go of your wrist, sitting himself on the edge of his bed and loosening his tie. There should have been loud alarm bells ringing in your mind, your feet should have been carrying you out of there, but your eyes are glued in awe on the crest carved into the wood of his door instead.

“Over my knee,” he commands lowly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“What?!” you gawk at him in shock. He grins.

“Over my knee, darling,” he repeats smoothly, eyes dark. You shake your head, your mouth opening and shutting in bewilderment. “Don’t make me drag you over here, this will be humiliating enough for you,”

“What- what about the Head Girl?” you squeak lamely, glancing back at the door. You feel a little tingle in your abdomen as his dark eyes remained fixed on you, promising to carry out this punishment.

“Hospital wing,” he answers simply, rubbing his thigh. You gawp again and he rolls his eyes. “Not my doing, honestly darling, what do you think I am?” he scoffs, although there's a discomforting glint in his eye. “Now, come here,” he growls. You don’t understand why you comply, walking over to him and hesitating before lowering yourself down over his thighs. You flush deeply at the realisation of what’s happening. He pushes your hair to the side, tilting your head so you’re looking up at him. “Aren’t you a good girl?” he coos, mockingly touching your overheated cheek. Your eyes are wide and worried, his thumb rubs your cheek just under your eye. “It’ll be over before you know it, darling,” His hand moves, wrapping around the back of your thigh, his thumb brushing the underside of your rear. You gasp. He chuckles, letting your head fall back down, your forehead hitting the mattress. He flips up your skirt and you squirm, blushing brightly. His fingertip traces the edge of your plain cotton underwear, light pink. “Cute, very like you,” he hums. You grumble shyly. His hand smooths over the swell of your ass, making you shiver. His other arm wraps around your shoulders to secure you. “Let’s do fifteen, shall we?” he doesn’t wait for an answer.

His hand collides with your rear with a loud smack, jolting you forward slightly. You whimper at the pain but find oddly that there’s a sensation blooming in the pit of your stomach, a pleasant incessant feeling as he delivers a couple more smacks. He pauses for a moment, rubbing his hand gently over you, feeling the warmth that blooms where he’s hit, gripping greedily at your flesh. You find yourself moaning softly. Thwack, thwack, thwack. He delivers a few more. With each one, the feeling is more pleasant, your skin tingling under his ministrations. He takes a moment, gently rubbing up and down your back, almost like he’s soothing you. He feels you rising and falling with your sharp breaths under his hand. He administers a few more spanks again, a little harder now, but you don’t mind much. You’re mortified at how much you’re liking this. This should be painful and humiliating, and it is, yet you’re loving it. His hand rests on your backside lightly for a moment and find yourself keening and pushing yourself back into his hand. He laughs in disbelief.

“Oh darling, you’re liking this aren’t you?” he taunts, smacking you once more. He shifts slightly and then chuckles deeper, noticing a dark wet patch on your underwear. “You’re really liking this,” his hand settles between your cheeks, rubbing at your clothed heat. You whimper and arch your back. “You’re soaking darling,” he coos. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re a whimpering mess,” he moves his hand up to pull down your underwear, it peels slowly away from your core, the cool air hitting your wetness and making you shiver. He uses both hands to grip you, spreading you gently open for his eyes. You whine and grip the sheets. “Naughty girl…” he purrs, watching as you twitch. “So needy,” he spits onto your cunt, making you shiver as the cool spit trickles down you. “I always had a feeling you’d like this, but darling, I could have never guessed what dirty girl you are,” you moan at his words, hating how true they are. His fingertip comes to gently tease against your folds. You push back against him desperately. He withdraws his hand and gives you another firm smack as a punishment. “Needy little whore can’t even wait a second, can she?” he chastises, gripping the flesh of your ass harshly. You sob in desperation, you’ve never felt so needy in your life. You’re willing to beg. You’ve never felt like this before.

“Please, please, need your fingers,” you pant like you’re in heat. For a moment, nothing happens, and you let out another sob. But then, like mercy from God, his middle finger laves through your folds once more. It simply strokes up and down for a little while, focusing fleetingly on your sensitive nub before tracing around your entrance, making you whimper desperately. After he’s satisfied that you’re about to tear up with desperation, he slowly eases his finger in. You mewl, arching your back, your entire face flushed. He drags the tip of his finger against your inner walls, mapping you out, getting to know all your favourite spots. His finger pumps slowly in and out, making soft squelches. He breathes raggedly above moving his free hand to press against your burning cheek, cupping your chin gently. You look up at him, your eyes glazed over with need and he looks pleased. 

“You’re beautiful, naughty girl,” he exhales, carefully pressing his ring finger into you as well, starting to pump a bit faster, watching as your lips part with soft wanton noises. “You’ve taken your punishment so well,” he soothes, the heel of his palm smacking against you as he fucks you on his fingers. You whine in response, eyes locked on his. The sight of him looking at you so lustfully drives you crazy, bringing your orgasm closer by the second. He rubs his thumb against your lips as you jolt back and forth with the force of his thrusts. He presses the pad of it against your bottom lip and you take the cue, drawing him into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, sucking on his thumb, moaning desperately around it. “Perfect obedient little slut,” he growls, his fingers moving faster inside you. Slick noises fill the room along with your muffled moans. Your eyes roll back. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Give in to me,”

“Tom!” you gasp around his thumb, your whole body shaking with the force of your orgasm, white-hot heat exploding in your belly. You pulse around his fingers and he grins, working you through it slowly. Your eyes slip shut and you lean heavily against his hand that cups your cheek, struggling for breath. He withdraws his fingers slowly, making you whine softly. He turns you over slightly, pressing his slick fingers into your mouth. You flush, accepting them onto your tongue and tasting yourself, looking up at him with big vulnerable eyes. He withdraws his fingers, pressing them into his own mouth, sucking them clean with a pop, smirking down at you. The shame is washing over you as you lie there, realising what you’ve done, how you’ve acted. You feel mortified, but Riddle is manoeuvring you to sit on his lap, bringing his lips to yours. Your rear stings as you settle onto his lap, but he kisses you affectionately, exchanging the taste of you between your mouths. 

“You’ll stay here tonight, you’re bound to get caught if you head out at this hour,” he mumbles between kisses. You pull back, tilting your head questioningly. “You don’t want another punishment, do you, naughty girl?” he teases, his hands settling onto your waist. “Other people’s punishments may not be as fun as mine,” you blush and scoff a small laugh, looking down at the ground. He brushes his knuckle against your still-flushed cheek. “Well… Did my punishment work? Are you going to be breaking the rules again?” he teases, pulling you down to lie on the bed with him. You’re surprised by this softer side of him, you’d caught a few glimpses of it as he’d been pleasuring you, but you’ve never seen him like this before. It’s like he likes you, and he never likes anyone.

“Only if I know it’ll be you catching me,” you whisper shyly, unsure how he’ll react. He just chuckles, pulling you into his embrace.

“Oh, I will make sure no one else ever catches you again, darling,”

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xoxoxo

Suggestions here! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

[tyquu]

Ah I remember my question now!! Since Ezra is a growing boy, how does that impact his prosthetic use? I'm assuming they can't just go get him refitted like normal... do they help him resize? Do they build new parts? Or help him find some?

Hiii!! :D) So I doodled out my thoughts as I pondered this question but my handwriting is ass so… I’m also gonna write a little summary too!

Ezra's first Prosthetic was given to him by the same people who performed the amputation on his leg in the first place. Some concerned Lothali citizens who couldn't bare to watch him hop around on his severely infected leg any longer. 12 year old Ezra was pretty pissed about it though (understandably). It didn't help that his first prosthetic was old as balls and awful to walk on.

Thankfully, using bits n bobs he'd collected out on the streets, Ezra was able to tighten the loose hinges at the joints and modify the top to fit better. Alas, he ended up loosing this leg after bopping Kallus over the head with it pretty early on into joining the spectres.

Hera set him up with a pair of crutches and then devoted herself to finding him a replacement. She was determined to find something that was better than his last prosthetic and thought she'd struck gold when she figured out Vizago had one sitting in storage. She haggled hard but eventually managed to pocket the rarity, and delivered it back to Ezra. Sabine helped modify it fit to properly, and to Ezra's delight he discovered that the hinges on this leg were motion activated, and could pack an even better punch (or kick) than his previous one.

Ezra hadn't really manage to curb his habit of using his leg as a weapon on occasion, and during such an incident ended up losing leg 2 (much to Hera's despair). Thankfully, Sabine had helped Ezra do enough maintenance on his last two legs that she was confident she could fix up some similar prototypes using her engineering skills. The spectres all contributed to a scrap box that would be used to build replacement legs whenever Ezra ended up losing or outgrowing one. All of them were very dedicated to scouting out parts for him and happy to help with maintenance.

At some point the rebellion had gotten large enough to start having a more organised healthcare system, and Ezra was offered a spot on the surgery waitlist for cybernetics. Ezra was initially hesitant, however, post the incident on Malachor he eventually agreed.

The cybernetic, although not the most advanced for it's time, is connected to his nerves giving him full mobility over the prosthetic. However, it came with it's own new quirks that took some getting used to. Detaching and Reattaching the cybernetic takes between 2-5 minutes to do, and often requires tools to help, rendering it no longer an option as a spontaneous mid battle weapon. As a result there was no longer need for him to cut holes in the left leg of his trousers either.

Ezra doesn't sleep with the cybernetic (same as one wouldn't with a prosthetic) cause it would be hella uncomfortable. On lazy days, he often goes without it, opting to use crutches around base instead. The cybernetic is waterproof, however, in both snow and sand it can sometimes become clogged and stiff, and may need extra maintenance after the mission is complete. The ghost crew is always willing to help pitch in with their engineering expertise (mainly Hera, Sabine and Chopper) or spare part gathering.

Anywho,,, yeah. I hope that sort of answers that question?? I'm not 100% familiar with how prosthetics and cybernetics work in the Star Wars universe so forgive me if some of this info doesn't check out. ( also if u see a spelling mistake,,, no u don't)

[reidreaders]

Your Insta If You Were Dating Spencer Reid Pt. 5!

MASTERLIST

Liked by chocthunder, jenniferj, and 192 others

y/n heading up to the mountains this weekend!

View all 37 comments

drreid I'm so excited to spend the weekend with you! Also, I'm very grateful that you agreed to drive 😊

-> y/n anything for you :)

davidrossi Have fun kids!

ssahotchner Enjoy the time off, I'm glad he's finally using some of his days.

-> y/n me too haha

babygirlpg I'M SO JEALOUS!! take lots of pics for me!!!

-> y/n sure thing penny

Liked by ssahotchner, emprentiss, and 149 others

y/n dragged him up here early this morning to see the sunrise. as you can see, he is not happy

View all 32 comments

drreid I'm always happy when I'm with you, just extra tired this morning.

-> y/n ik baby it's okay

-> y/n also ur so sweet 😘

chocthunder I just know he HATED that

-> emprentiss I KNOW

-> drreid As I have previously stated, I did not hate it, I was just tired.

Liked by davidrossi, babygirlpg, and 194 others

y/n found him outside like this when I woke up

View all 42 comments

drreid Why must you always post the most embarrassing photos you can find of me?

-> y/n it brings me joy :)

jenniferj he's just... standing there??

-> drreid I was admiring the mountains (not pictured).

chocthunder THE BOOTS

emprentiss I need one of those emergency eyewash things after seeing this

-> y/n he looks good and you know it

-> drreid Thank you!

Liked by ssahotchner, babygirlpg, and 198 others

y/n Is he proposing or did he just bring me up here to watch the sunset?

View all 65 comments

drreid I am not proposing right now, I swear.

-> y/n I don't know if I believe you...

chocthunder Is pretty boy about to close the deal???

-> jenniferj I hope so!!!!!

-> babygirlpg me too! I love weddings and I LOVE love!!!

davidrossi @/drreid I think we should talk before you make any big decisions

-> drreid Guys! There is nothing to talk about!

-> emprentiss sure bud

Liked by drreid, chocthunder, and 176 others

y/n update: he did not pop the question :(

drreid Maybe next time...

-> y/n don't even get me excitedddd

babygirlpg aww man I was excited

-> jenniferj me too :(

-> emprentiss me too tbh

-> chocthunder honestly yeah same

in my evil era lol hope you enjoyed this one!! requests are open so send me something to write!!

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - A Simulation

author note: ... so this got out of hand and ended up being over 6500 words x-x really curious to see how you guys like it and react to the twist. i'm so anxious if you guys will enjoy it that i can't even right my usual rambly A/N!!

characters: Idia Shroud x GN!Reader, Ortho Shroud (Platonic)

Thump. Thump. Thump. Slam.

You sighed.

The sound of quarrelling which, through Ramshackle’s thin walls, sounded like it could be happening right next door to you.

The sound of a quiet but stern lecture, a voice full of authority that would not stand being questioned.

You rolled over in bed and checked the time on your phone. 7:00 am. On a Saturday. You groaned and rolled onto your stomach and buried your face in your pillow – not the best quality but comfortable enough – as Grim snored, spread out at the foot of the bed. You were pretty sure he could sleep through a hurricane.

Just why had you agreed to allow the NRC Tribe to stay here, again? Perhaps it was masochism?

But that didn’t do Vil any justice. He had warned you that tenacity was Pomefiore’s thing.

The morning after Vil had grandly declared that he had moved in was… Something. The best way you could describe it was that it played out like a fever dream. You had hoped it was, actually. You kept pinching yourself, hoping you’d wake up any moment. Of course, you didn’t.

You had woken the next morning to Vil knocking on your door. He was rather insistent, as he didn’t leave even when you ignored his knockings in favour of burying yourself further into the warm comfort of your bed. Finally, you dragged yourself out of bed and ripped open the door, glaring bleary eyed at Vil, who stood looking annoyingly immaculate for so early in the morning.

“I’ve prepared us some breakfast. I see you need time to get ready, but please do hurry. I have a schedule to keep.” Vil informed you, not even waiting for your response as he turned on his heel and walked down the hall. You grumbled and slammed the door shut, reeling both from the early morning veiled insult and the fact that somehow Grim had slept through it all, still snoring away peacefully on your bed.

You readied yourself as quickly as you could but took an extra few moments to smooth out your appearance more than you usually would. You’d be sitting opposite Vil Schoenheit after all, and you could really do without his comments this early in the morning.

You walked down to the lounge to see that Vil had indeed set the table up for breakfast. Mismatched bowls filled with yoghurt, berries, and some sort of… Seeds? A jug of orange juice also sat on the table, just enough for one glass each, along with a heartier jug filled to the brim with water. You had to admit, you hadn’t had such a healthy, well put together breakfast since you got there. Most days you had to forgo your breakfast entirely in order to stop Grim terrorising the school population before first period began. If this was Vil’s charm offensive, you could get behind it.

“This was the best I could do with your dorm’s… Limited implements,” Vil sighed as he drizzled a modest serving of honey on his own bowl of yoghurt before pushing the honey container towards you, “I would have brought my blender but I wasn’t if Ramshackle had running electricity.” Vil commented dryly, “does Crowley not ensure you have the needed facilities to live adequately? That man is shameless.”

Now this was a conversation you could get behind.

“Crowley doesn’t ensure anything ever.” You grumbled as you drizzled some honey onto your own yoghurt bowl under the watchful eye of Vil. The amount you put must have been satisfactory because he didn’t say anything, only began to mix his spoon in his own bowl.

“The prize money from the SDC would help change that. You could get yourself better kitchenware, maybe some more soft furnishings…” Vil began, and you rolled your eyes as you munched on some berries. Nice segway.

“Not interested.” You responded bluntly, although Vil didn’t seem too surprised by that. He picked up the orange juice jug, pouring you a glass first before filling his own, as manners would dictate. “Why are you so against the NRC Tribe staying here? You only stand to gain from doing so. Whilst there may be a bit of disruption, I’ve assured you that I would keep disruption to your routine to a minimum. I must say… I do find your stalwart refusal a little odd.” Vil stared hard at you now, and you tried not to visibly squirm from the intensity that he was studying you.

It seemed that all your efforts to not bring attention to yourself were doing the exact opposite in this situation. Vil found your behaviour odd, and Ace and Deuce had also found your behaviour odd when you didn’t attend the Pomefiore ballroom when you were requested to do so. It was rather annoying, actually, how all your hard work to be as unnoticeable as possible was turning out to be fruitless.

But if there was one thing you could rely on for a believable defence, it was the inherent selfishness of the Night Raven College students (and arguably, staff).

“Why should I go out of my way to help you? Regardless of what you offer, it sounds like a pain. I have to accommodate seven extra students? On top of all the trouble I get from Grim anyway? Sounds like a drag. Plus I enjoy having my own space.” You quipped back, your expression indifferent.

“Hmph. It seems like you fit in here more than you think.” Vil shot back sassily, an elegant eyebrow raised at your open self-centeredness.

All throughout breakfast you and Vil had an unproductive back and forth where he tried to gain some ground on getting the training camp to go ahead in Ramshackle. It was exhausting, but you managed to hold out long enough that breakfast was over and there was no reason to stay at the table any longer, for either of you. You were just leaving the lounge when there was a energetic knock on Ramshackle’s main doors. You sighed, wondering why someone else was now knocking on your door, but for all you knew it could be Ace and Deuce, wanting to walk with you to class. That reminded you that you needed to get Grim up too. Reluctantly, you walked towards the entrance, pulling one of the creaky doors open.

“Bonjo—”

You slammed the door shut.

“That was rude. Rook is here to walk with me to class. He also is delivering my blender.” Vil scolded, having followed you partially to the entrance, obviously predicting that it was Rook. You groaned loudly regardless of this, bumping your forehead lightly against the entrance door’s old wood. You had to deal with Rook Hunt now too? This was getting out of hand.

Grudgingly, you pulled open the door again, not bothering to mask your expression of displeasure as you stared at Rook, who stood with his usual enigmatic smile on your doorstep, with a blender tucked carefully under his arm.

“Ahh Trickster! How delightful your disgruntled expression looks first thing in the morning! Magnifique! Like a raging storm cloud threatening the blue skies! And Roi de Poison, as radiant as ever! Like the brightest of suns in comparison! Oh, how I wish I could burn this image into my mind forevermore!” Rook enthusiastically sang, and it was as if you could feel your mood plummeting in real time.

“Oh give it a rest…” You muttered under your breath, having to duck out of the way as Vil breezed past you and grabbed the blender off of Rook. “Yes, that is quite enough of that, Rook. There is no cloud on this earth that could threaten my shine.” Vil commented, disappearing back into Ramshackle to no doubt deposit his blender in the kitchen. “Of course not, beautiful Vil!” Rook eagerly agreed.

Now why were you catching back handed insults from both Pomefiore housewardens?!

You grumbled under your breath about this, but Rook didn’t seem to mind or care. He continued to smile at you, watching you with those ever-observing eyes.

“You seem agitated, Trickster! But might I say, you do look beautiful this morning. A fine colour to your cheeks and a wicked glint in your eye! I see that your shared breakfast with Vil has done wonders for your complexion and spirit already.” Rook continued, managing to look harmless and sly at the same time. Quite the feat.

How exactly did he know that you had breakfast with Vil?! Had he been watching you? You cursed internally, swearing to yourself that you’d buy some thick curtains for Ramshackle out of your next allowance. But knowing Rook, that wouldn’t be enough.

Instead, you glare at Rook and point a finger at him, which he watches with glee, as if he is enjoying the situation. “Stop talking.” You say firmly, and he holds his hands up genially, not at all offended at your shortness. In your opinion, Rook Hunt was a whole valid reason on why you didn’t want the NRC Tribe to stay at Ramshackle.

“Rook, it’s time for us to go. I don’t want to be late.” Vil declared as he strode out of Ramshackle, and you had to agree with Rook in that the run down exterior of Ramshackle didn’t take away from Vil’s shine in the slightest. It was quite amazing, and also kind of irritating. “You should leave shortly too, being late would be unbecoming of a dorm Prefect.” Vil sniped over his shoulder at you as he began to leave with Rook. Rook gave you a hearty parting wave, “farewell, Trickster! I do hope to be sharing a dorm with you soon!”

Not at all ominous, thank you Rook.

“And don’t forget about Grim.” Vil called, not even bothering to turn towards you as he continued on in the direction of Night Raven’s main school building.

Oh, damn it. Grim! You rushed back upstairs, on a mission to get Grim out of bed and out of Ramshackle before you were late and Crewel chewed you both out again.

After that, Vil was a semi-permanent fixture at Ramshackle. He would return in the evenings, no doubt after running the NRC Tribe ragged during practice, and then he would put you through your paces. He’d critique most of the things you did, and it wasn’t like his words of advice were unhelpful, it just didn’t help that they were delivered with the trademark Schoenheit sass. More often than not you were left reeling because he delivered his flyby judgments with such poise and poison, you were suddenly gaining a new appreciation for poor Epel.

Eventually you relented and agreed to allow the NRC Tribe to stay at Ramshackle until the SDC, but under very strict conditions. You would be receiving Vil and Rook’s share of the prize money if they won. You were not to be disturbed under any circumstances by the members of the NRC Tribe, and they were strictly forbidden from entering your bedroom. Groceries would be provided for the duration of the training camp. You also made it clear that you would not be responsible for any shenanigans that Grim pulled off during their stay, so not to even bother pestering you about it. And lastly, you would not be attending the SDC.

It was a difficult decision for you to make, but you realised that with Vil hounding you about allowing the NRC Tribe to stay, you were perhaps interacting with Vil way more than you potentially would during book five’s story path. A foul thought crossed your mind, Vil overblotting because negotiating with you had eaten into his preparation time for the SDC. At least with these conditions, you effectively minimised your role in book five to pretty much nothing, and if book five’s story decided to run its course like normal, then it was nothing to do with you.

Vil had stared at you with a knowing look when you first came to him telling him that you would agree for the training camp to go ahead, but his face slowly fell into a judging frown once you got to the end of your conditions.

“You don’t want to see your friends perform at the SDC? You do realise this is one of the biggest events of the school calendar? There might not ever be another opportunity for you to witness such a spectacle, let alone one that your friends are performing in. Not to mention… They’ve been working so hard.” Vil questions you, his tone almost scolding, and his eyes wrought with curiosity as to why you’d be so callous to the two who you’d known the longest since arriving here.

You kept your expression indifferent, giving an excuse that loud spectacles weren’t your thing. You did feel bad that you would miss Ace and Deuce’s big moment, but there was no way you could allow yourself to get dragged into a potential overblot situation again.

Of course, all of that felt meaningless now, considering that they weren’t even complying with the conditions that you had set out.

You could vaguely hear Ace complaining to Deuce about having to be up so early despite Vil technically giving them the morning off, whatever that meant. You hoped that the voices would eventually die down and you could get a couple hours more sleep, but the banging, thumping and voices went on and on. You even attempted to pass sometime by playing around on some mobile games that you had downloaded, a guilty pleasure that was a temptation too hard to resist when Crowley gave you the phone. But the noise never abated, and with a disgruntled sigh you got out of bed and decided to get ready for the day.

It felt weird being on campus so early in the morning on the weekend. It was mostly empty, which you assumed had to do with most students forgoing breakfast to sleep in, although there were a few early risers milling around campus. Some were heading towards the gates, likely heading out to town, whilst others made their way to the many other facilities that Night Raven had to offer. You yourself had decided to visit the mystery shop on a whim, thinking you could pick up a snack or two for during your breaks at the library.

You were walking up the path towards the shop when some… Large boxes came floating out the door… You stopped in your tracks, blinking several times. Were you that tired that you were seeing things now?

“Sorry Prefect, I don’t want to accidentally bump you!” Said a chipper voice coming from behind the boxes, startling you and making you hop out of the way. Behind the boxes was one Ortho Shroud, and suddenly the floating made sense. Not so much the boxes, though.

“Ah, my brother got a little caught up yesterday and forgot to do his usual food order, so I came to the mystery shop to pick up a few supplies to tide us over!” Ortho told you as he saw you eyeing up the boxes in his arms in confusion. He floated towards you where you stood off the path, and gently placed the boxes down, and they were nearly as tall as you were! Just a few supplies?!

“What are you playing?” Ortho asked enthusiastically, and you belatedly realised that you had one of the mobile games you had downloaded open on your phone, and muscle memory made you want to close it down immediately, but Ortho’s big, excited eyes made you feel too guilty to do so.

“Oh, uh… It’s just a game I downloaded, I don’t know much about it…” You fielded awkwardly, hoping to brush the topic away but Ortho only floated closer to get a better look at the screen.

“My brother plays that one too!!” Ortho gushes with glee, the sudden burst of elation catching you a little off guard. Really? This didn’t seem like Idia’s type of game… You swear you vaguely remember him saying he wasn’t that into dating sims… Although, you did suppose this one wasn’t a conventional dating simulator at the very least.

“But what happened to your screen?” Ortho asked, ripping you out of your thoughts, his head tilting to the side curiously. Now that did make you lock your phone to attempt to hide your shamefully cracked phone screen. Kalim, that’s what happened, you thought dryly. “Oh it’s nothing,” you said quickly, “I just had a small accident with it. It still works just fine!”

“Let’s get my brother to fix it!”

Oh no.

Ortho was beaming at you, eyes sparkling at the idea. You could feel your heart sinking.

“Oh no, no. I wouldn’t want to bother him! It’s totally fine, I promise!” You said hurriedly, hoping to derail the idea and make a quick escape, but it seemed like the idea had already firmly taken root in Ortho’s brain.

“It wouldn’t be a bother! My brother is really good with machines, he’ll get it fixed in no time! Plus, you two can talk about that game together! I’m sure he’d love to know there was someone else on campus who likes the same game as him!” Ortho encouraged.

Ah. So that was what this was about.

Book six had Ortho really encouraging Idia to share his gaming interests with the other students at Night Raven. Considering that the Ignihyde chapter was the next in line after book five, it did make sense that Ortho was taking this coincidence and running with it, considering you had just made it a thousand times easier for him to do so by just happening to like the same game as his beloved brother.

… But how were you supposed to say no to those eyes?! How were humanoids allowed to have such heart wrenching eyes?! It wasn’t fair.

You chewed on your bottom lip in indecision. It would be useful to get your phone screen fixed, even to stop Vil’s sassy barbs that he kept firing at you whenever he caught sight of it (something something “your belongings are a reflection of you” something something, blah blah). And this was Idia you were talking about here. He would probably freak out as soon as Ortho brought you to his room, fix the phone as quickly as possible and kick you out. Win, win?

“Okay, sure.” You relented, watching as Ortho lit up even more at your positive response. You swear you saw his hair get brighter. “But I can’t stay for long, I have other things planned for today.” You stated firmly, giving yourself an escape plan if needed. Ortho still seemed delighted regardless, moving once again to pick up those ridiculously large boxes he had been carrying. You followed suit, picking up the box from the top of the pile, much to Ortho’s surprise.

“It’s okay, I can carry them!” Ortho assured, but you shook your head, adjusting your grip on the box. It was a little heavy, but nothing you couldn’t handle. “Nah, I can’t let you carry them all by yourself. Besides, this is the least I can do if you’re going to fix my phone for me.” You remarked casually, beginning to walk with Ortho towards the Hall of Mirrors.

“You’re very kind, Prefect.” Ortho hummed, seeming quite taken with your courteous gesture.

The walk to the Hall of Mirrors from the mystery shop wasn’t long, and as you stepped through the Ignihyde mirror, you realised that you’ve never actually really seen the inside of the Ignihyde dorm. Sure, the game lets you buy Ignihyde backgrounds such as the entrance and the lounge, and you can get Idia’s dorm room as a background on his birthday, but other than that, the Ignihyde dorm has largely been a mystery compared to the other dorms. You had no idea what to expect.

It was… Very white. And shiny. Kinda made you wish you had brought a pair of sunglasses. The hallways were deserted, and you felt like you stood out like a sore thumb. You suddenly started to feel uneasy about the whole thing.

You followed closely behind Ortho as he led you to Idia’s dorm room, not trusting yourself not to get lost. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, even with the boxes he was carrying partially obscuring his view.

“Ortho, are you sure this is okay?” You asked, unable to hide the unease in your voice. Ortho didn’t stop, continuing to float along the hallways and making turns where necessary. “Don’t worry, Prefect! It’ll be fun! We’re almost there!” He insisted, and you very much felt that you and Idia were about to be in for a very unfun time. Ortho suddenly turned and opened a door that you would have missed if it wasn’t for him, as it blended into the wall so well.

“Idia, I’m back!” Ortho announced, floating in nonchalantly. You followed awkwardly, managing to bump the door closed behind you and place the box you were carrying on top of the other ones that Ortho had left by the wardrobe.

You took a moment to glance around the room. It wasn’t… As messy as you thought it would be. Wow, the background you can buy in the game really doesn’t do it any justice. That or Ortho cleaned up.

“Ah Ortho! Come check this out! I finally beat the final boss in that boss rush and got some cool new— Gah!!”

Idia had swivelled in his chair to look at Ortho but saw you instead and almost tumbled straight out of it with the way he flinched backwards, face morphing into terror. You gave him a small smile and waved awkwardly, but that only seemed to make it worse.

“I invited someone over!” Ortho stated cheerfully as Idia ducked behind the high back of his chair to avoid being seen. Rather fruitlessly too, considering you could still see his characteristic flaming hair.

“I-I can see that, Ortho! W-w-why did you invite an extrovert into my room?!” Idia complained, trying to keep his voice low but not really succeeding. The interaction was so odd to watch that you wondered if you should leave but settled for looking away instead. Ortho didn’t seem bothered at all, smiling at Idia like nothing was wrong.

“This is the Prefect from Ramshackle! I ran into them at the mystery shop, and they helped me carry our shopping back! Wasn’t that kind of them?” Ortho rambled on, floating over to his brother. Idia seemed to pluck up the courage to peek over his chair to get a better look at you, prompted by Ortho’s words, but when you looked back towards him, he shot back down in his chair, the ends of his wispy hair turning bright pink.

Wait, was he blushing?

“B-but Ortho…” Idia stammered out, but it seemed that Ortho had no mercy for him today.

“The Prefect’s phone screen is broken, and I told them that you could help fix it!” Ortho piped up over Idia’s stammering, his smile taking no prisoners, “you can help them, right Idia? Something so simple won’t even take you ten minutes.” Ortho encouraged, beaming smile still on his face.

Talking tech seemed to kick Idia out of his fluster somewhat, and you could hear Idia’s back thump against his chair as he opened one of his desk drawers and started rifling through it. “Tch, typical normies with no protection on their device, then crying when it gets bodied. So noob coded…” Idia muttered under his breath like he’d forgotten you were right there as he finally found what he was looking for, pulling the kit he was looking for out of his drawer and placing it on his desk.

Ouch.

He pushed his keyboard back, assumedly making space to him to work. “Gimme. The quicker I fix it, the quicker they leave, right?”

“Prefect isn’t a normie! They play the same game as you!” Ortho retorted and you cringed, as you sincerely hoped that wouldn’t get brought up into conversation before you could leave. But apparently, Ortho had taken it upon himself to defend your honour from his brother. Lucky you.

“Show him, Prefect!” Ortho compelled you, and you would almost find it funny how he was basically strong-arming Idia to have an interaction if it didn’t involve you. You sighed internally, powerless to Ortho’s big eyes, and walked slowly towards Idia’s desk, loading the game up on your phone. You held it up, arm outstretched so you didn’t get too close and give the guy a heart attack.

“It’s this one. I don’t play much, but this is the game I play the most. I at least make sure to login every day to get the bonuses and stuff…” You mumbled awkwardly, not actually understanding why you felt so awkward either. It wasn’t like it was a big deal. But suddenly your phone was snatched from your hand, and you were startled to see that Idia had grabbed it.

“You play this too?! I’m so into this at the moment. How far are you in the story? What cards do you have? Who is your favourite? Ugh, this screen totally kills the vibe. Hang on, let me just…”

You blinked in surprise as Idia rapidly fired off multiple questions about the game at you before putting your phone on his desk and hunching over as he got to work. It was like he was a completely different person. You knew it was the case that he could become very lively when he got to talk about his hobbies and interests, but seeing it happen in person was… Truly something. You looked between him and Ortho, with Ortho looking absolutely delighted about the interaction, and gesturing for you to take a seat on Idia’s bed whilst he worked.

“Oh, uh… I’m not very far in the story, I cleared the prologue but that’s about it. I don’t get the chance to play often… I don’t get many chances to roll the gatcha either, I never have any currency…” You answered. You didn’t really know any of the characters well enough to say what cards you had or who your favourite was, so you kept quiet on that.

“Sounds like you’re still in noobville. I’ll teach you how to play, but first I have to… Whee hee hee…” Idia volunteered, his voice pittering out as he got more entranced on working with your phone. The room lulled into silence, and you began conversing with Ortho instead, random giggles and mumbles from Idia in the background as you and Ortho chatted. Midway through one of your conversations with Ortho you noticed that Idia had been working on your phone for way longer than ten minutes. Now, you had no idea how long it took to replace a phone screen, you were no engineer. You also factored in that Ortho could have just been bigging up his brother’s ego when he said it would only take him ten minutes, but did it really take that long to fix? It felt like you had been in here way over an hour…

Ortho was projecting some clips of his favourite video games when Idia finally swivelled around, brandishing your phone with a manic grin.

“The freshly refurbished Prefect Custom Gamer Deluxe! I replaced the screen and reinforced it so it won’t break again but still has high grade touch screen sensitivity. I upgraded the battery to a larger capacity model so that you can game for longer, and of course a 2TB memory card. The original memory was awful, where did you get it? Sam’s bargain basket? Kek.” Idia gushed about your newly juiced mobile, fully in his element, “I didn’t know what your preferred colours are, so I didn’t add any custom lights. Blue’s good, though.” He commented, and that is when he finally caught you blinking at him, staring rather blankly.

“… Did you get any of that? Sigh, noobs OTL…”

You didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you quickly snapped yourself out of vacant stare and quickly spoke, “I think so… It means I won’t have to delete anything to update my games anymore, right?”

That seemed to be enough, because he was smiling that startingly sharp toothed grin again. “Exactly.”

The room fell into silence again, with Idia seeming to realise that he’d burst out into a rave about his interests. He held out your phone towards you awkwardly for you to take, and you stepped forward quickly to take it, but Ortho was faster.

“Show the Prefect your cards on the game you both play!” Ortho insisted cheerfully but forcefully, clearly not willing to let this interaction between you and Idia ends just yet. You don’t know if it was because it was a game, or because he had been suitably warmed up from the tech talk, or Ortho’s wide, eager eyes. Maybe even a combination of all three, but either way, Idia agreed.

“So… Uh… Did you hear all the aggro online about what’s happened?” Idia muttered as he waited for his game to boot up. It booted up a lot faster than yours usually did. Is that what he did to your phone? If so, you weren’t going to complain.

 “Can’t say I have…” You answered honestly, and Idia scoffed lightly under his breath. “Oh right. I forgot you’re a casual.”

Why did it sting when he said it like that?!

Idia spent some time giving you some tips on free ways to get in game currency so you could roll on the gatcha more, and even recommended some social media accounts you could follow to get information on future events so that you could plan your resources and gatcha rolling accordingly. It was… Pretty helpful, actually. It was oddly nice to just chat innocently about a hobby for once, instead of constantly having to have your guard up in case someone tried to screw you over.

Idia made you boot up the game on your own phone (which you were pleasantly surprised to notice loaded up just as quickly as his own) and took a look through your card collection. He wasn’t impressed (“do you even statgrind?”) but gave you some advice regardless on who your best cards were and the more effective way to power them up, so you didn’t get locked out of the story when you progressed.

“Now show them your cards, Idia!” Ortho suggested yet again. You hadn’t missed his thrilled expression as you and Idia had been chatting, realising that he was likely delighted that Idia was talking to someone in person for once. But he was being awfully pushy about Idia showing you his card collection, even when the conversation didn’t need to be facilitated by him…

The tips of Idia’s hair went bright pink yet again, and you couldn’t resist raising a brow. What was he so embarrassed about? They were just cards, right? Idia tucked his chin in, turning his screen away suddenly. “I-I-I don’t know, my collection is pretty a-average…”

“No way! You have so many cards, show them!” Ortho tugged on Idia’s arm, with Idia trying to hide his phone in his lap, “or I’ll just project your cards for the Prefect to see!”

Idia sat up straight, looking very panicked at Ortho’s oddly specific threat. “O-okay, okay! Let me just…” He tapped away at his phone, and you had no idea what he was doing, but eventually he turned the screen back to you, showing you his card collection in all its glory.

Wow. He had tons of SSR cards. Even some UR cards… By the look of it, he seemed to only go for the ultra-rare cards of the same characters, so they must be his favourites. You looked at his card collection, nodding appreciatively and making a comment here and there, but otherwise you didn’t really have much to say. Idia’s hair was still tinged pink, and even his cheeks had an awkward half blush for reasons that escaped you.

Out the corner of your eye you saw Ortho staring at you rather insistently, as if he was urging you to keep the conversation going. Just why were you allowing yourself to be exhorted by this kid? Clearly, Ortho Shroud’s powers of compulsion know no bounds.

“Who is your favourite character?” You blurted out, hoping that would satisfy. To your surprise, Idia’s hair burned brighter, the pink flaring up at your question.

“O-oh, um… I-i… I can’t show you, because of… You know, all that aggro online…” Idia mumbled under his breath, looking down at his lap. What was up with him?

Either way, now your curiosity had been piqued.

“Tell me about the drama.” You asked, although you supposed it came out sounding more like a demand. Idia looked up at you suddenly, staring at you for a long moment, “… a-are you sure? It’s pretty long…” He mumbled, and you nodded anyway. Perhaps this would finally satisfy Ortho and then you could make your exit.

Idia’s demeanour entirely changed again, his elbows landing on his knees and he leaned towards you, his hands caging his phone. “This has been big news in the community. Like, God tier discourse. Everyone has come together to try to figure out what is going on, scrubs and tryhards alike. People have been mining the data files, I’ve tried hacking the serv—”

“Wait, wait, wait!” You stopped him, waving your hands to get him to slow down, “tell me what happened before you talk fandom dramatics.” Idia rolls his eyes but acquests.

“So a couple of months ago, something happened to the game. I’m not talking a limited time event or anything like that. I’m talking one day, every logged in for the next daily login period, and a character was missing.” Idia informed you, and you raised your eyebrows at this.

“Like, gone?” You questioned, and Idia nodded, frantically enough that his wispy hair bounced a little. You scratched your cheek, finding yourself slightly intrigued in this despite just doing it to get Ortho off your back. “I don’t think I follow what you mean…” You admitted, almost a little sheepishly, “how can a character just be gone? Wouldn’t you still have their cards?”

Idia, to his credit, didn’t seem to be bothered by you not following, only nodding along eagerly with your train of thought. “Right? But that is where it gets even weirder…” Idia begins to tap at his phone again, changing the filters on his card collection before turning the screen back towards you again, “because the cards are still there, but the character is missing.”

The sight was eerie, almost ominous. You deduced this character must be one of Idia’s favourites, considering how many cards he had, all maxed out. It made sense why he was so invested. But the cards themselves, they were…

Empty.

The cards were still there, in his collection. The background of the cards was still visible, even the other characters that appeared in the art were still there. But the character the card belonged to? Gone. Just an odd, inky smudge left in their place.

“That’s…” You couldn’t finish your thought, finding yourself at a loss for words at the bizarre, oddly chilling sight.

“Right?!” Idia hissed, really getting into the conversation now.

“Surely it must be some sort of event, right? Something to do with the story?” You tried to reason, and Idia shook his head wildly.

“That’s what we all thought, at first! Maybe they were springing some big event on us that none of the info trading accounts had managed to dig up. Sure it was a bit early for a Halloween event, GG developers, but it wasn’t like that hasn’t happened before.” You nodded along to Idia’s logic, this was exactly what you had assumed. The creepy feel of the cards definitely gave a Halloween vibe.

“But the official game pages never posted anything about it. And they weren’t responding to comments or messages about it either. So, we started to wonder if it was an update gone wrong, or a bug, and the devs were going to patch it. But still, we heard nothing from any official channels.”

You were staring at Idia, transfixed by this odd phenomenon. You’d never had anything of the sort happen in any of the games you had ever played, that’s for sure.

Idia’s cheeks flared a little pinker as he continued, “I-i have every one of that character’s cards, so I was able to check that it wasn’t just one card that had the issue, it was all of them. Other players reported the same issues, so that’s how we knew it was a game wide issue. The devs finally issued a statement, some vague BS about how they would be troubleshooting some issues with the game but not exactly what they were trying to fix. I personally think the devs have no clue what’s going on. Which is stupid, who doesn’t know what’s happening with their own software? Is it amateur hour over in that studio…” Idia finished, starting to mutter under his breath.

You mulled all this information over. Wow, clearly fandom drama in Twisted Wonderland was way more over the top than in your world.

“That’s really… Wow.” You hummed, which you thought summed up the situation quite well. You were pondering over it, eyes back on your own phone as you opened your card collection back up. You guessed you hadn’t noticed because you hadn’t rolled any of that specific character’s cards in the gatcha. You were kind of grateful, actually. It probably would have given you a fright.

“Uh…” You heard Idia hum, and you looked up at him, seeing him watching you with an apprehensive expression, “I have something to show you, if you want to… See… But you might find it weird…” He said slowly, his posture more hunched than before.

“Oh, okay?” You nodded, waiting for him to continue. You wondered if you were making him uncomfortable and had overstayed your welcome, considering Idia was starting to become more withdrawn again. His social battery was probably starting to go flat. You’d leave after this, you decided. Maybe quicker, if he was going to show you something really weird.

“The character is gone from the game’s cards, but they still appear in promotional materials that were posted online. Do you… Want to see?” Idia asked hesitantly, and whilst you found the way he asked the question a little odd, you had no reason to decline.

“Sure, why not? I feel like I’m invested now.” You smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back, only turned his gaze to Ortho. “Ortho, can you project the promotional art?”

“Easy! Searching promotional art… Loading… And, done!”

… … …

You felt your blood run cold instantly and you couldn’t stop the look of petrified horror that froze upon your face.

Projected onto the muted walls of Idia’s bedroom, in crystal clear clarity, was the promotional art of the character that Idia had been telling you about, just as he had asked Ortho to do. There was no inky smudge replacing their appearance, and they were posed rather dramatically, the norm for promo art. But something about it had your heart stopping in your chest and your hands trembling in your lap…

The promotional art…

The promotional art looked exactly like you.

[shinestarhwaa]

IT's You || JUNG WOOYOUNG

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Wooyoung X Fem Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Tags/Warnings: College AU, Debate team AU, Enemies to lovers, (sexual) tension, confusion, Dirty language, Namecalling, Unprotected sex, Doggy style, Blowjob, Fingering, Semi-public sex

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno

ENJOY!

You could not stand his smug face, knowing he completely drove you into a corner and there was no way out for you. "Fuck," you cursed underneath your breath. The timer beeped and his team cheered, knowing they have won. You stammered and tried to say something, anything, but his points were stronger and you agreed with him. It was too hard to come up with another argument. It was too late. "The winner is team TREASURE!"

He looked annoyingly happy while he cheered and jumped up and down with his team. Ugh. You stepped away from the stage and went back to your teammates who tried to comfort you, but you waved them off and sat down next to the table with sweet foods and sulked instead, looking at the winner with a pout.

You stuffed your face full with the chocolate muffins and red velvet macarons until he suddenly stood in front of you, his smug smile still irritating the shit out of you. "Hey, loser," he grinned sheepishly, "I'm just kidding. Good stuff out there, your points and remarks were quite good. Until I completely had you stuck." His laugh sounded like a fucking witch's, how annoying.

"Wooyoung," you sighed, "go back to your teammate's or something and celebrate your victory." "Oh come on Y/N, cheer up, there's more to come, isn't there? Tomorrow night we've got a big one coming again and maybe you'll kick my ass then. Unless you wanna tap it right now," he laughed, sticking out his ass. You rolled your eyes, grabbed the last chocolate muffin and walked off. What a jerk.

It wasn't a secret that you could not get along with Wooyoung, everyone knew it. He annoyed you everytime you were in the same room as him, it's in his nature. When you and him were up against each other everyone came to watch and to place bets on who would win.

Wooyoung was an interesting guy, to say the least. He wasn't too bad looking with his raven black hair, full lips and twinkling eyes. Only if he didn't have this astonishingly annoying personality. He was a know-it-all and he teased you for fun, because he knows just how to trigger you. The little fucker.

Literally little fucker, because the guy wasn't tall at all. He wasn't even that much taller than you and whenever he teased you, you just get him back with his height. But he never let it get him down because he knows he's good and he can wind anyone he wants around his finger. He knows he's wanted by a lot of people so he could not care less, and it kinda made him attractive. What an ass.

You were so glad he's not from your college because you couldn't imagine sitting with him every week, let alone practice with him for the debates. He's a big distraction and he always has been. You hate working with him.

But when you laid in bed that night you weren't just thinking about how to get back at Wooyoung, you also caught yourself thinking about what it would be like if you could corner him in a dark room and make out with him messily.

You looked around your room and bit your lip, anxious as if anyone could have heard your thoughts. God, that was wrong, wasn't it? You should not think of Wooyoung like that. He was the devil, to you. The enemy.

The next day you got up extra early to practice with your team and they were so uplifting. You were very happy with the people in your team because everyone had different aspects they excelled in. Your best friend of nearly 15 years - Seonghwa - was great when it came to empathy, feelings and humanity. Hongjoong could be very direct and Yunho knows a lot of stuff about all kinds of topics.

You put on your best shoes that day for the evening debate, and even dolled yourself up a little. "Flaunt it if you got it," Hongjoong had said with a shrug when he saw you unbutton an extra button of your white shirt. You laughed and rolled your eyes. But he was right, you were going to flaunt it.

Some people would say it's cheating to dress up a little more sexily, but you didn't care. You were subtle about it. You knew just how to define your features and you hoped it might just distract Wooyoung enough for him to fail his debate.

♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

"And the winner is... TEAM AURORA!" The judge cheered loudly, and you squeeled out of excitement, jumping into the arms of your teammates. This time Wooyoung was left stammering, defeated. He stared at you but it wasn't with disgust in his eyes, but as if he was gonna hunt you down. And eat you up.

"You did so well," Yunho said with a huge smile, "I'm so proud of you Y/N! You totally killed him!"

You laughed and buttoned your shirt up a little more again. "It worked, didn't it?" "It did, I think, but I'm sure you didn't need it, you were so strong up there! You're amazing even if you don't show off, Y/N," Seonghwa commented, placing a gentle kiss on your head.

Feeling overwhelmed you decided to walk into the library with the glass of alcohol free champagne to cool down. You sat on the large table in the middle of the room and closed your eyes for a second, only to open them again because the door opened loudly. Wooyoung.

"What do you want?" You sighed. "You think I didn't realize what you were doing up there?" He grunted as he came closer. "What? Winning? Being smarter than you? Don't we all know that, Jung?"

"You shut your mouth, Y/L/N. You only won the contest of who's the greatest whore." You gasped, wide eyed. "Excuse me?" "You heard me," he smirked. "The only whore here is you, Jung. I don't sleep around with everyone on my campus."

"But you're willing to use your body to win a contest, aren't you?" Your blood was boiling now. How dare he just say these things about you? "It's a little sad, Y/N, that you need to use your body in order to be good enough for this contest." Now you've had it.

You jumped off the table and pushed Wooyoung against the wall, hands pressed on his toned chest. "You keep my name out of your damn filthy mouth," you huffed before kissing him hard on the lips. You had no idea what you were doing, why you were doing this. Why were you doing this?

To your surprise he kissed you back, hands roaming over your back and then over your ass, sliding under your skirt a little and feeling the bare skin of your butt. The kiss was rough and messy, sloppy when his tongue entered your mouth.

Your skirt slid up the more you moved around and soon enough your whole ass was out. Wooyoung turned the two of you around, now pining you against the wall. He slid down the tiny thong you were wearing under your plaid skirt and he slid his hand between your thighs.

"You're so wet baby, you really are a whore, aren't you?" You gasped when his fingers touched your clit. "The fuck I'm not," you cursed, ripping his shirt off and undoing his tie. Wooyoung slid 2 fingers inside your cunt and pushed them in deep, making you moan out.

"Well you're taking my fingers like a whore," he commented before attacking your neck with little bites and messy, wet kisses. "You're a fucking dick, Wooyoung," you moaned. "Hm, you wish for my dick inside you, sweetpea."

His skillful fingers moved quickly and curled just right to hit the right spots inside of you. He covered your mouth to muffle your moans and your hands clawed at his back and his chest, digging your nails into the soft honey skin.

"That's it baby, I can feel you clenching, you must be close already hm? Are you so pent up? Pent up with all that stress? Is that why you act like such a bitch the whole time? Because no one's fucking you right? Is that why you're dressed like a whore, huh?"

Two of his fingers entered your mouth and you whined around them, slightly biting down on them to stop yourself from screaming as you came hard. Wooyoung removed his hand from your cunt and licked the cum off his fingers with a big smirk.

"Fuck," you breathed out as he unbuttoned your shirt, revealing the tiny bra you were wearing. "You're such a little slut, Y/N, look at yourself," he cursed before diving his face into your chest, licking a stripe up from the valley between your breasts to your neck and jawline.

"Fuck off, Jung, look at how hard you are for me. You keep shaming me for looking like this but you fucking love it don't you? Aren't you embarrassed you've gotten so hard for a little slut like me?"

You pushed him back onto the wall and you dropped to your knees. The cold tiles of the floor would definitely leave marks later but you didn't care. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and pulled them down. He wasn't wearing any underwear, which resulted in his cock immediately springing free against your face.

Wooyoung's cock was bigger than you expected and fuck, was it sexy. It was so thick and the head was so pretty and pink like his lips. Thick veins ran up the shaft like on his arms and his balls were big and heavy, waiting to release.

You took the tip of his cock in your mouth and swirled your tongue around it. Wooyoung threw his head back and moaned, eyes rolling back into his head when he felt you take more and more into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, saliva leaking out of your mouth and dripping down to his balls.

"Fuck, such a messy little whore, sloppy little slut. Bet your cunt will be so sloppy and slutty too when I fuck it. Bet it's so tight. Cause you're an uptight little bitch, Y/L/N, fuck, can't fucking stand you."

Wooyoung rambled on while you deepthroated his cock. You felt him twitch in your mouth, signaling you he was close to coming. You let go of his cock with a loud pop, and panted heavily. "If you hate me so much why are you letting me suck you off, hm"

"Stop being a stupid fucking brat. Fuck, I'm gonna fuck that tight little cunt of yours now. Get up and bend over," he ordered. His hands were rough on your body as he pulled you up and bend you over just as he said.

Your bare chest hit the cold wood of the table and the cold air breezed over your exposed ass. You whined when you felt Wooyoung push his cock into your tight hole. It had been so long someone's fucked it right and you definitely had never had a cock like his inside you. You hated to admit it but it felt like fucking heaven to you when he stretched you out.

"That's right, feel how your slutty little pussy is taking my dick so well? That's what you're good for Y/N, for taking cock. You should just let me do the debating and wait for me with your cunt on display so I can fuck it right after."

"God, Wooyoung just fuck me, fuck me hard, use my pussy, please," you begged. He didn't waste any more time, pounding into you like there was no tomorrow. He reaches spots inside you, you had never even touched before and soon enough you were crying out his name.

It felt so fucking right to have him inside you. Somewhere deep inside you wanted him to slow down and savor the moment because you didn't want it to end. But God, the way he used you just felt so good.

"Fuck, not gonna stop fucking you, baby girl, gonna rail you 'til the fucking break of dawn, understood?"

"Y-Yes! Yes, fuck me, use me all night long, please, I'm yours, make me see stars, use my pussy, I'm yours," you cried loudly. Wooyoung moaned in response. He wasn't a quiet guy and right in this moment you loved it. You loved that he wasn't shy about letting himself go and you wondered if anyone might be listening to you on the other side of the door.

"Baby, fuck, my good slut, gonna fuck you full with my cum, gonna fuck all my cum into your slutty pussy," he moaned. You felt his cock twitch inside you and you cried out a few please's before his thrusts got sloppy and he released inside of you.

He slid his cock out and tapped it on your cunt a few times, making you mewl and squirm beneath him. "This isn't fucking over, Y/L/N. Gonna play with you all night long. I might've lost that debate but I'll still fucking win."

[dailyadventureprompts]

Homebrew Mechanic: Bumpercar Combat

I'm going to keep most of my reasoning behind developing this system below the cut but I think we can all agree that D&D's combat can be painfully static. I love fight scenes but after going down a combined stage combat/ videogame boss design rabbit hole I've realized that one of the primary elements is missing from D&D's combat system, namely: Movement

From a mechanical perspective, D&D combat needs movement to break up the monotony of non-spellcater characters throwing punches at eachother until one of them drops, to introduce increased risk and randomness without damage-spike abilities.

From a narrative perspective, D&D combat needs movement to introduce tension and to help put character into day to day fighting beyond just flavor text. Likewise, fights that give different opportunities for movement will feel different from one another, making them stand out in the party's mind.

So without further ado I present my fun new system, which will have your party and their enemies bouncing around the battlefield like a demolition derby:

Press the attack: If you attack a creature and your initial attack roll is higher than their constitution score, you can force them to shift 5 ft into any of the tree squares opposite from your position. You then move to occupy the space they did.  

Back to a Wall:  Walls and other substantial barriers grant attackers the benefits of flanking as if they were a threatening creature. 

Give Ground: If you are attacked in melee and the initial roll is lower than your dexterity score you may shift into any adjacent square, forcing the opponent to move into the space you previously occupied. If you are attacked at a range, you may still shift, but the attacker loses any cover bonuses they might have till the start of their next turn rather than moving. 

Tripping Hazard: If you force an opponent into a square that could be considered rough terrain ( such as if it was occupied by a chair, or down a slippery slope) the target drops prone. 

First things first I want to say that this system is largely inspired by the dynamic combat movement rules by raventear productions, which I found over on reddit. It's a great system but the more I thought about it the more I realized that introducing extra rolls into combat was adding extra bloat to combat, and so I needed to retool the system to ensure that the party weren't having to roll any more dice than they normally would. My goal with homebrew is always to add more options, not bloat.

Also, go check out@jillbearup over on youtube, her series breaking down cinematic fights was one of the main drivers behind wanting to find a homebrew system like this in the first place.

Finally, long hours spent watching @ohnoitstbskyen 's in depth bloodborne playthough got me thinking about the design of fights, and the right combination of enemies and environment can truly elevate the player(s) experience. I'm also working on my own bloodborne game which gave me a reason to finalize this system.

Now lets get on to why I wanted to build this system in the first place: D&D combat is at risk of being painfully slow and boring, as it's aged the depths to which it can be slow and/or boring have only increased. While part of that is up to the skill of players at the table, I largely chalk it up to the fact that the base system of combat isn't much changed from the days of old tabletop wargaming....characters and monsters control like army units, clashing up against one another till one side drops or some spellcaster drops an AoE ( artillery). That rigidity is fine when one person is controling a whole army of units, but I think every melee character has been in a position where they're slugging away with the same old attack while the wizards get to do cool shit.

The system sort of worked back In the early days when characters and monsters could only take a couple of hits before dropping, but as the editions progressed and everything got more complex what might have first been a quick life or death clash turned into a slugfest. Attacks of opportunity and rigid flanking rules specifically encouraged this slowdown, and 4th edition, the only attempt outside of the battemaster to really play with positioning crashed and burned mainly due to WotC's incompetence.

So how do I use this?

If you're having trouble thinking of why this system might be fun to implement, here's a few ideas:

It makes groupfights more dangerous, encouraging tactical thinking. Getting advantage reliably is the deciding factor in most d&d combats, with the tide turning in favour of whichever side has the most bodies. If combatants are shifting around with every missed hit then that advantage is more up for grabs

It puts increased focus on hazards and terrain features. Ledges, pits, pillars, walls, furniture, dungeon-clutter. Make no mistake that if you use this system and then design your combat arenas with some kind of terrain feature, it's GOING to be used. Where previously players and enemies alike had to chose between engaging with the arena for a potential benefit or doing raw damage reliably, here they'll be able to do both.

It gives non burst-damage melee characters a new way to play. Rolling a barbarian or fighter is supposed to come with a scene of empowerment which can be undercut one folks realize their super-strong orc berserker is being outclassed for damage by the shifty guy with the knife. Telling that player "Yeah, that person gets to roll more dice, but you get to bounce badguys off the walls like pinballs" is more than a consolation, it's what they signed up to do in the first place.

It adds drama to the fight. There's only so many ways a dm can describe enemies taking non-lethal sword hits that only take up a portion of their hp, and they're liable to run out of those long before the campaign is through. Part of what sells the importance of those hits and keeps players engaged between the first and the last is the feeling that they've had SOME kind of effect. Moving folks around is a middle ground between doing nothing and dropping a foe, changing the battlefield in a myriad of small ways that can build up to something meaningful.

Art

[jewishvitya]

Hi, I stumbled upon your political posts (and then Yuri, you might get me to watch it now) and I find your perspective fascinating. Maybe it's because I grew up with rather a lot of exposure to Palestinians and various peace movements, but your experience is alien to me, and I am really thankful to be able to read it.

I would like to ask, what do you define as Zionism? As the last month taught me that no two people define this term the same. For me it is the ability for the Jewish people to control our own life in a land that we are bound to, and that has no contradiction with the Palestinian doing the same on this land, that they are bound to it as well. No pressure to answer, just pure curiosity.

And if I may offer some hope for our future? On the fourth day of the war, someone who helps in one of the donation centres for the displaced Israelis ask in the group chat if there is a way to pass the extra clothing and equipment to the people of Gaza. In the past two month I got invites for over a dozes or meeting between Israelis and Palestinians, meetings were both sides shared their sorrows and hopes. When an acquaintance was raising money to help a Bedouin family whose house was hit by a rocket, he has to tell people to stop donating. People in my surrounding have been talking about the day after, building plans so they could help build a better place for both people. A long-fought battle in the courts was won, and a group of settlers were ordered to evacuate Palestinian land. Activists have been going to assist in the olive harvests in the West Bank, despite it all.

There is hope for us here.

Hi! Thank you! If you do watch YOI I hope you enjoy it lol.

I know my experience is not very common. Even other Israelis get shocked by the depth of the hatred and the indoctrination sometimes. I try to emphasize that it comes from the most extremist community we have, because I have no idea what the schooling looks like in other areas.

And sure, I'll try to explain, and maybe also why I choose to label myself as anti-zionist.

I don't know that I can give you a dictionary definition, because I define zionism mainly by what it did in practice - the colonizing of Palestine. And when I say colonizing, I'm not making claims about indigeniety or lack of it. I'm defining it through our tactics and our actions. Especially because early in the movement they openly used colonialist frameworks.

Some of the softer definitions of zionism, things like our right to self determination, our right to seek safety - these aren't things I'm against. And I understand that within zionism there were other proposed ideas that weren't necessarily meant to end up with an ethnostate, resulting in ethnic cleansing. So I know zionism is more complicated than what we see in Israel. But what we see now is the reality people are living as the outcome.

If we came here and said "we've been longing to go back here for such a long time, we suffered so much abuse, we want to live alongside you in our shared homeland, can we find a way to ensure our safety and yours" - this would have been a different conversation. Still complicated, because mass immigration is complicated, but different.

In reality, we destroyed communities to manufacture an ethnic majority. Tore a whole society apart and shattered it, spread it all over the world. We killed and expelled and traumatized. I called it the cycle of abuse on the scale of nations - taking horrors we suffered and inflicting them on others. So given the practical results of the zionist movement, I can't treat those softer definitions as the "true" definitions that people should go by.

I keep thinking about Jewish refugees being given the homes of Palestinians with meals still on the table. Because of course we have a right to food and shelter, but not at their expense. And I know you agree with me on this.

When I say I oppose zionism, that's generally because I'm talking about the reality, the impact the movement had on human lives, not an idealized version we might imagine or a philosophy someone wrote about that never came to be.

For me, if I want to talk about our safety in our ancestral homeland and detach it from the horrors committed by Israel, zionism isn't the right framework. And after all the destruction we caused the land to conquer and colonize it, if I want to talk about our connection to it, I think zionism shouldn't be the word I'm using.

There's also an aspect of, by insisting on defining zionism through a nicer idea rather than harm done to real people, I see it as taking away a language that oppressed people are using to talk about their oppression.

I hope that makes sense.

I really want us to find a different way to work towards safety, without it being at the expense of another group of people.

And thank you for that last paragraph. I definitely have hope. It's hard, seeing videos of our soldiers being so gleeful about the destruction. I lost a friend of over ten years because of the callous and cruel things he said over the past couple of months, and I can't bring myself to repeat them. But I know that better things are possible, and I'm glad we're building towards them. I'm terrified that our government won't let us move in that direction, but we're going to push there anyway.

[multifandomfanfic]

could you do something where ronaldo is your ex and you broke up because he cheated but he saw you with another man at a party and he got really jealous??

Cold Air

Word Count: ~2.2k

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Sorry this took so long and sorry if any descriptions of Qatar are inaccurate. Just suspend reality for a bit :)) (also, I proof-read this, but it hasn’t had a second pair of eyes look at it)

The city lights passed by your car as you made your way to the club. The World Cup was in full swing and, today, Portugal had beaten Switzerland by five goals. You wrinkled your nose. Portugal. As good of a team they were, any mention of their team, and especially a certain player, left a foul taste on your tongue. 

It wasn't like you didn't love Ronaldo. You did.., well, you had loved him at one point. Months ago you had been positive your relationship was going to last forever; you were living together, you went with him to his events, and you were even certain you had spied an engagement ring in his bag once. All of that was squashed within seconds thanks to Ronaldo’s unlocked phone and a few Instagram DMs. 

Within days, you had moved out of your shared house and into an apartment far away from Manchester. Ronaldo agreed to pay the first year of your rent in return for you not going public about his infidelity, but you took the high road. You did not need his help and, after what he did to you, you decided that you did not want to have any connection to him any longer. Enough was enough.

But here you were, in Qatar, the day his team beat the Swiss.

Your phone vibrated and you dug it out of your purse. 

I'll have to leave a little early tonight, Emi texted you.

What? Why?

Coach wants us to get at least eight hours of sleep before some extra practice in the morning. He explained, I'm free to do whatever you want tomorrow night.

You groaned and slumped back into the car seat. Great. Just great. The only reason you were going to this club was to celebrate Emi’s friend’s birthday, whom you had never met. In fact, you hardly knew anybody on his team. You had spent so much time with Portugal and Manchester United that you hadn’t become acquainted with any of the other teams. Besides, you had only been seeing Emi for a couple of months. 

“Is this it?” your driver asked. 

“Yes, this is it,” you sighed. The cold night air raised goosebumps on your skin as soon as you pushed open the door. It was refreshing and briefly distracted your mind from the awkwardness awaiting you inside.

The bouncer opened the rope as you approached. The club’s exterior was lit by LED lights, beckoning people to venture inside. Quite a crowd had amounted outside, drawn by the possibility of seeing a world-class futball player in person. They watched you as you entered the building. Who were you? And why were you here?

The interior of the bar was as exuberant and bright as the exterior. The only difference was the number of people crammed within its walls. Bodies were pressed against each other, moving to the music blaring from the speakers. Two bartenders were hurriedly making drinks for the growing crowd. They had been instructed to prioritize the futball players and serve them first, but they were struggling to keep up with that demand.

You scanned the throngs of people. One or two of the men close to you looked familiar, but the lights were set just dim enough that you couldn’t distinguish people from a distance. Their forms blended into one, swaying mass.

Person after person bumped and shoved you (whether on accident or on purpose, you couldn’t tell) as you forged your way to the bar. Surely, there were too many people in the club to be safe, but nobody paid attention. They were all having fun. You were the walking embodiment of dread.

You tugged on the end of your dress. It wasn’t yours–one of the players’ girlfriends had lent it to you–and it wasn’t exactly your taste either. The color was off and it fell awkwardly on your thighs. Anyone who knew you would know the dress was not your first choice. 

“Excuse me?” you asked the bartender closest to you, “Can I get one of those?”

The mixture of alcohol he was making was taking all of his attention, and he made no effort to respond. You groaned, leaned against the bartop, and began people-watching. There was no sight of Ronaldo or Emi. You weren’t expecting Ronaldo to be there, but you could never be too sure. 

“Y/N!” a familiar voice called from behind you.

You turned around and smiled, “Emi!” 

He pushed his way through the crowd, nodding and grinning at his friends. You recognized none of them, despite going to many of Emi’s games. Maybe you were too stuck in the past.

Once he reached you, Emi grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him. 

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, leaning over slightly and began kissing your neck. Several people’s eyes landed on the two of you. 

“Babe, please,” you whispered, “Not in public.”

He stepped back, “Why not?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable with it, ok?” you replied. To be honest, you had no idea why it made you so uneasy. People looking at you was one thing, but something else was off.

Emi smirked and loosened his grip on your waist, “Fine. But I will be seeing you tomorrow night.”

“It’s a date,” you chuckled. He left you one more kiss on your lips as he started to back away. He smiled and nodded his head goodbye. Before you knew it, Emi had disappeared into the mass of people.

The bartender continued to pay attention to other patrons, leaving you drinkless and bored. There was a full-length mirror behind the back of the bar. You examined yourself in it, rubbing off the lipstick that had made its way off of your lips and adjusting your hair so it fell just right on your face. A figure began to form behind you. Someone was making their way to the spot to your left. The way the lights were positioned and flashing, you could not tell who it was.. that is, until they spoke.

He ordered two of your favorite drink and, like clockwork, the bartender had them finished within seconds.

“You look good,” he almost mumbled as he took the first sip from his drink. His eyes scanned your figure, soaking in every aspect of how the dress fell on your body. You could have slapped him, “Although, I wouldn’t peg you as the type of girl to wear something like that.”

“What do you want, Ronaldo?” you spat. His face changed for a moment at the use of his last name instead of Cristiano–what you used to call him–but, within seconds, it was back to his usual, sly look. On the other hand, you could feel your face turning red. Months of pent-up rage and regret flooded back into your head. Why had you come here? Why did he have to be here?

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he said as you picked up your drink. You slammed it back down on the counter. A little sloshed over the edge and the bartender immediately wiped it with his towel. He scowled at you but smiled at Ronaldo. You pushed the glass to the farthest point on the bar that you could reach. You refused to drink it. That would make it seem like you were diving in.

“I asked you what you wanted,” you seethed, arms crossed across your chest, “Can you answer my question?”

He rolled his eyes and looked around as if you were the only person in the room who did not know what he was going to say. He then leaned closer, “You could do much better than an Argentinian. That’s all I wanted to say.”

You froze. Your mouth hung agape, your mind was apparently empty of any good comebacks. After a moment you managed a “Are you kidding me?” and a small, all-too-exaggerated laugh. The audacity this man had. He cheated on you, not the other way around. 

“Do you think I’m joking? I’m just stating the obvious, darling,” Ronaldo smirked. He leaned against the bar, drink in hand. Triumph was written all over his face. 

You pulled out twenty dollars from your purse and slammed it onto the bar to cover your drink. You stood up straight, staring your adversary in the eyes. 

“I’m done with your bullshit, Ronaldo. Do I need to remind you whose fault it was that we broke up? It wasn’t me!,” you shouted just loud enough so the people closest to you could hear, “Have a good life.”

You stormed past him, purposely bumping into his shoulder on the way to the back. Your feet carried you past the mob of bodies. Instead of annoying you, they acted to your benefit, creating an almost impenetrable sea for Ronaldo to cross to get to you. You made it to the back exit swiftly and, without hesitating, escaped the room.

The chilly air greeted you like an old friend. Your dress was hardly enough to keep you warm, but it didn’t matter. Compared to the inside of the bar and its patrons, it felt more friendly and calm in the frigid night.

You pulled out your phone and started searching for an Uber to take you home. You began walking down the alleyway, enveloped in the screen in front of you rather than paying attention to your surroundings. That was why you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a cold hand grab a hold of your arm.

You whipped around and tried to strike the attacker with your bag but, after a moment, you saw that it was none other than Ronaldo. Despite recognizing him, you still managed to hit him with your purse. You ripped your arm from his grasp and backed up. You weren’t truly scared of him, not at all, but he repulsed you so much that you wanted to distance yourself from him as much as you possibly could.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed.

“Y/N, listen to m–”

“No, tell me what you think you’re doing!”

“I don’t know what I–” he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and shifting his weight.

“You don’t know what you’re do–”

“Y/N, would you just listen to me, please?!” Ronaldo finally begged. He stood with his arms extended to you, silently pleading with you to let him speak, “Please?”

You checked your phone and then crossed your arms, “You have two minutes, Ronaldo, then I never want to see you again.”

“That’s fine, that’s perfect,” he took a step back. He looked at the sky as he took a deep breath. The stars were shining down on the two of you, illuminating the alleyway just enough that you could see Ronaldo’s breath and the sweat dripping down his face. What was bothering him so much?

He sighed, exasperated with his own thoughts, “Y/N, I.. you know I love you right?”

You did not reply, nod, or shake your head. You kept your eyes glued on him but, on the inside, your stomach was turning. This conversation could lead nowhere good. In the months since your break-up, you had thought about getting back together plenty of times. Yet, in reality, you could never let yourself do that. He cheated on you once. He had broken your trust. That could not happen again.

“I know you do. And I know, I hope, that deep down you still love me,” Ronaldo continued, trying to get any reaction out of you, but none came, “I will never love another woman as much as I love you. You were the light of my life, the thing that made me smile every single day without fail. You enchant me, Y/N,  and I went and screwed everything up. Will you forgive me?”

You scoffed, your arms only crossing tighter in front of your chest, “Don’t give me this ‘I love you most ardently’-esque crap. You cheated on me, Ronaldo. I have proof!”

“And I regret it every day! Y/N, you don’t understand how much I’ve beat myself up over this. I love you! You make me happy!”

“Ronaldo, if I really made you happy, frankly, we would not be in this situation right now,” you said, pursing your lips. You shrugged, “I am sorry, but I can’t forgive you.”

With that, a grey sedan drove to the end of the alleyway behind you. You checked the description on your phone–it was your ride.

“That’s me,” you said. The amount of water vapor in front of Ronaldo’s mouth only increased as he grew angrier and more confused. His mind was running, trying to find some solution to have you back, or to get you to at least forgive him, but he could not find one.

“Can you at least call me Cristiano?” he finally called out as you started to walk away.

You turned around. After a moment, you nodded, and made eye contact with him once more, “Alright, Cristiano. As I said earlier, I hope you have a good life.”

[alpydk]

I had another one of the worst visits to the doctor today 😑

For one second I really had in my head "Where is Chase?" 😭

I was on the verge of making a House like fuss 😆😣

To my ask:

Do you have fluffy Chase headcanons in mind, where he is treating a patient good and comforting?

(Yeah I know who am I asking 😆🤣😋 But with Dr. Puppy eyes there has to be some comfort about him😁Just imagine I am a penitent nun, than he is extra nice 🤭😉 Sorry Daddy, punish me for I have sinned 😏 Wrong topic! Wrong topic! 😆🙈

But I am also always up for some angst...like having things in my head of Wilson seeing Amber in his final moments, greeting him, waiting for him...yeah...)

I'm sorry you had a rough appointment. I hope this brings you the smiles it brought me. I'm not the best at a headcanon, but I can do a short comfort fic 🫂 - My one thing is, Chase totally gets his hair back post divorce/s8. He still however pines from time to time.

Chase x You - Pure Fluff (like fucking candyfloss)

You’ve sat for some time in that small clinic room, your eyes strained from the florescent lighting, your head pounding from the many complaints outside the door. You knew the place would be busy, but you didn’t know to what extent when you sat down to see someone.

Now you waited for the doctor to come, the paper on the bed riding up under your jeans, your legs hanging off the edge as if you were some child. Doctors were never who you wanted to see, especially when they were like the last few. In their fifties, men whose education came from other men in their fifties. No understanding of what it was like to actually have struggles in either life or health. You sigh, expectantly.

The door is pushed open; you sit up straight ready to have your concerns ignored when he enters. Nowhere near the age you figured. Early thirties, you suspect, blonde, very good looking. Now your tension has become a furious blush in your cheeks as you explain your symptoms.

Robert Chase pulls up a chair and nestles himself in between your legs, placing warm hands under your chin and lifting your head slightly. He’s gentle, his hands soft. You notice he has no aftershave on, but the subtle aroma of saltwater drifts from his hair. His shampoo, or maybe a long-forgotten hobby, soaked into his pores? You don’t dare to ask, but the question doesn’t linger for long as you catch his gaze and realise the answer. The deep blue of his eyes glance into yours, endless seas you would happily swim out into. He gives the faintest smile, his hands brushing the skin of your neck as he pulls away. You suddenly feel cold.

He writes you a prescription, tells you to take it easy for a few days and call if you have any problems. His accent reminds of the old Steve Irwin videos you used to watch with your friends. It’s soothing in a way you don’t understand. You struggle to find your words to reply to him, but manage a whispered thank you.

Outside, the rain is coming down. You wait for your taxi, slowly becoming more and more drenched as the heavens open. You would stand under the portico, but it’s left clear for the emergency services. A gurney is rushed past, a young woman. You wonder what is wrong with her as the paramedics shield her from the rain.

“So, you come here often?”

The Australian accent draws you to your senses, a worthless pickup line that you’ve joked about but never had used on you before. You smirk. “Does that ever work?”

“First time for everything.”

He’s wrapped in a thin coat, his blonde hair becoming darker and sticking to his forehead with each raindrop that hits. You’re not sure when you agree to go to his apartment. It seems to happen so naturally as you find yourself walking to his car with him. He asks about you, what you do for a living, how long you’ve lived in New Jersey. Do you have any friends, family, a partner?

His apartment is what you expected of a young single doctor, more time spent at work than at home. There’s the odd creature comfort: a violin case stood against the wall, some aged video games in a stack by the TV. It’s not until you look closely that you see the hidden details: the photo frame face down on the cabinet, the medical journal under the leg of the coffee table keeping it stable. Rowan Chase? Any relation? You wonder.

“Got you a towel.” Robert brings it around your shoulders. Gone is his coat, leaving nothing but the wet shirt underneath. You know this is no longer professional care, but you don’t mind, swept up in whatever God’s plan is for the two of you.

“You have a nice apartment.”

“You should see the bedroom.”

He’s so quick to lure. How many of these lines have been used on others before you? How many others have there been? You’re drowning in those seas, but you don’t seem to care. Let the tide pull you away. Let him drag you down.

Suddenly he apologises, and you’re not sure why. Was it your silence at his remark? He offers you a drink, but you decline. The medication, you remind him. He nods, understanding, and places himself on the sofa, leaning his head back over the cushion. You sit next to him, seeing the façade of the strong doctor fade momentarily. You hesitate a moment, but place your hand on his knee, a warmth and comfort that you’ve both been seeking for so long.

He glances up, confused, a brief flash over his face where he considers rejecting the sensation, but then his arm comes around your shoulder, pulling you close. You lean into his body, taking in the seawater, letting it fill your lungs. You feel the warmth of his breath in your damp hair, the press of his lips on your forehead, on your nose, on your mouth, each softer and more meaningful than the last.

He doesn’t take it further. There is all the time in the world for that. Instead, he switches on a movie, holds you close in a way you’ve only ever dreamt of. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep until the next morning when you wake up, a cushion under your head, a blanket covering your shoulders. The scent of coffee fills the air, and you glance around, trying to catch your bearings.

Chase emerges from the kitchen, sweatpants shielding toned legs from your view, but a firm chest on display, skin you’ll run your fingers up, a scar you’ll learn about during lazy days in bed.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

He glows under the curious dawn that lazily comes through the window, his hair as golden as the coast you’ll surf with him one day, his eyes brighter than they ever were under chemical lighting. “Made you coffee.”

---

“These trials only test your faith to see whether or not it is strong and pure. Your faith is being tested, as fire tests gold and purifies it. ... And your faith is far more precious to the Lord than mere gold. So if your faith remains strong after being tested, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day of his return.” – Chase S1 E5

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Going on a Trip

Summary: Set in a Modern AU. Ever since that pregnancy test came back positive, Astrid's been a little overprotective.

Warnings: Pregnancy

Rating: General

Dead Dove: No

Words: 1 002

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Author's Notes: So fun fact: in Dutch/Flemish we have the saying "zoals een kip zonder kop!" Which basically means doing something without thinking and often in a nonsensical way.

Posting something a little lighter after the Dead Dove fic I just posted. 😇

I got the inspiration for this fic because I went to a zoo last Monday and there are always without fail families with very small children (literally ages 0 to 10, I saw two mothers with literal 1 to 3 month olds in slings) or a pregnant partner. And since I was taking requests for this Pregcup series, I had to write it, of course.

Also wondering just how many people are going to click on this fic thinking it's a Pregstrid fic despite the tags and the series I'm putting this in.

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

“And you’re sure you have everything you need?”

“Yep, 100%!”

“But you’re sure? You got a bottle of water? Bottle of coke to keep your sugar levels up? Made your sandwiches?”

“Well, no, you made them because you’re scared I’ll go hungry for an hour. But anyway, yes and yes and you stuffed my bag full with literally every sugary thing we have in the house. If our doctor knew, she would get a heart attack.”

“You got your pain killers for your leg? Your migraine meds? Are you sure we shouldn’t take an extra bottle of-”

“Astrid, please!”

Hiccup grabs her hands and puts a stop to her pacing. They’re in the kitchen and she’s holding onto the strap of his shoulder bag, running around with it like a headless chicken. They’re leaving for a trip today, a trip to the zoo because living amongst dragons doesn’t mean they don’t still appreciate or are even fascinated by the other countless of creatures they share their amazing planet with. The entire group is going, the dragons get a day off for once.

Much to Toothless’ dismay.

He would much rather come along, but zoos are going through the trouble of keeping dragons out. So if they were to bring one in, they wouldn’t exactly be welcome.

“We made a list yesterday, we got everything ready before bed and you woke up extra early to make sure I wouldn’t be going hungry today. We’re ready to leave,” he assures her and Astrid relieves herself with a sigh. Because he’s right, they’re ready.

She looks down at their joined hands and smiles, his thumbs stroking the back of her fingers. This is before her gaze falls further down and finds the reason why she’s so concerned. Her husband is about five months pregnant.

They knew from the start that they wanted to have kids and after some time spend talking about it in which they both agreed Hiccup would carry their first, they went ahead and found success rather quickly. But ever since that pregnancy test came back positive, she’s been a little bit overprotective. And Hiccup thought it was annoying at first, he has already spend his entire childhood with an overprotective father. But in his fifth month, he both understands it and even appreciates it.

Because while his morning sickness was at its worst, she, Toothless and Sharpshot made sure he didn’t need to leave the bed for anything other than to go to the bathroom. She muttered sweet nothings in his ear when his moodswings appeared. There is this one commercial about these doggy treats that are meant to be good for their dental hygiene and every single time he watches it, he cries without fail. Something about them having good dental hygiene just gets to him. This coming from a dragon and cat person.

The other side of this is that Snotlout is no longer allowed to eat at their place, Hiccup can no longer stand his eating habits. Then there were his cravings, which she gets up for in the middle of the night just to take care of. Astrid has been so understanding and supportive, he figured that the least he could do was return the favor.

“You’re right,” Astrid admits. “We’re ready.”

And if it turns out the five sandwiches she made for him aren’t enough, they can always buy an extra snack at the zoo.

-XOXOX-

They took a bus there and now they’re taking that same bus home. It’s from a private company with comfortable cushions, air conditioning and a bathroom. But that first one is the most important to Hiccup in particular, who sits next to Astrid and is just knocked out cold after the tiring day they’ve had. His seat leans back just enough for him without bothering Heather, who sits behind them along with her brother and reads a book.

As he sleeps, Astrid looks through the many pictures on her phone. Between her device and those of all her friends, they probably have hundreds of pictures. Of animals and monuments, some as a joke, of them as a group, split up in duos, selfies… or in her case; her pregnant partner.

Him looking at animals, reading a plaque, watching a family with small children, resting on a bench, taking a picture of something or someone else, in the souvenirship, she even has one of him eating. This man could do nothing without giving her some reason to take out her phone’s camera. Astrid is certain he has a picture of her taking one of him.

Because he’s tall and skinny, his bump isn’t all that big yet, which is a slight disappointment that Astrid will not share. Although it is probably better for his back, which already suffers from being a lower leg amputee. At the same time, he started showing a little earlier than normal, which she thought was a blessing. She loves his belly and she loves seeing it in pictures. He’s growing their first child!

Glancing at it now, she can’t help but smile and places a hand on it, her thumb stroking through the t-shirt he wears. He did end up eating all five of those sandwiches.

All of them are sunburned. Because while Astrid was so worried about Hiccup going hungry, she completely forgot about the dangers of the sun. They all did. From the corner of her eyes, she spots Ruffnut’s fight not to scratch the itchy redness of her skin, Snotlout looks as bright red as a tomato and the shape of Dagur’s sunglasses have been burned right into his face. Both of the redheads in their group are more sunburned than then rest.

When they finally get home in another hour or two, she is going to lotion hers up from head to toe. And they will probably both enjoy it.

But for the time being, Astrid puts on her music and closes her eyes, her hand still on her husband’s belly.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

What if I go full romcom on this Chick/Minnie (OFC) story and bring DB into it? Like, early on in knowing each other, Chick's suddenly just carrying gosling in his pocket like it's nothing, and Minnie does not know what to do with this information. I mean, yes, it's adorable. But also, what the fuck.

Okay, I actually love this enough I'm going to throw something together right this second:

Minnie sits at her desk and reviews reports, wishing one of the girls was sick so she could have an excuse to be on the floor more than once an hour. It's the day after another mission, and there's so many boys in the beds. She'd agreed to a Head Nurse position originally because her years of actual nursing gave her the option with the Red Cross. It'd seemed an easy decision back when she agreed, a way to test out if she wanted a job so high up the chain.

As she signs her name at the bottom of a patient report, she knows with certainty she never wants this job again. Too much paper, not enough patients.

There's a knock on her open office door, and she glances up. It's Colonel Harding, which means it's ten-thirty. He comes every day they've got boys in the beds to get a personal update. The first time she'd seen him, Minnie wouldn't have guessed him the type. But she's since learned he's got a big heart for these boys, same as she does. It's part of what makes them friends.

"Please, come in," she says, standing and smoothing her skirt. "Coffee?"

"If you've got extra," Harding says. "And could I get a bowl of water?"

Minnie pauses, coffee pot hefted halfway to pouring position. "A bowl of water?"

"I'm babysitting," Harding says and reaches into his leather jacket.

Minnie stares in mild shock as he pulls out his cupped hand and shows her a tiny gosling she already knows too well. "Oh, don't tell me the ground crew suckered you into letting them keep it."

"I thought you loved babies," Harding replies, bringing his other hand up so the gosling is fully cupped against his chest.

"Babies, yes," Minnie says, walking around her desk and sticking her head out the door. Charlotte is in the hallway sorting bandages. "Nurse Thorton," Minnie says, "Could you get me a large bowl of water? Lukewarm."

"Of course, Ma'am," Charlotte says, the question in her eyes very clear.

"Thank you," Minnie says rather than answer. It's been a long morning for all of them. Charlotte will appreciate the surprise of the little gosling. She turns back into her office, and Harding is sitting in the chair in front of her desk, still holding the gosling. She goes back to pouring them both coffee. Black for Harding, one sugar for herself, then sets the cups down on her desk before sitting herself.

"You were saying you love babies, but not this little man," Harding says, rubbing a finger across the gosling's head.

"I grew up with geese. They're monsters," Minnie answers. "They lived by our pond and would chase us all around. They bite. A lot."

"Here's the water," Charlotte says as she walks into the office. She stops short at the sight of the gosling and smiles. "Oh, is that the one Winks found?" She asks, then stiffens slightly. "Corporal Hermann, I mean."

Minnie lifts some folders to clear a space for the bowl. "It seems to be," she says. "You haven't been filching supplies to help with the bedding have you?"

Charlotte shakes her head. "No, Ma'am. I've only given them scraps from my own rag bag."

Minnie doesn't ask if the other nurses have been filching supplies. She knows the answer. She just signed the inventory sheets, and they're slightly low. She'll ignore it this once. "That's nice of you, Nurse Thorton. You may go."

Charlotte nods and gives Harding a quick smile, then leaves the office, closing the door behind her.

Minnie watches Harding place the gosling in the water with slow, easy movements. "Has he swum yet?" she can't help but ask.

"A few times, the boys tell me," Harding replies as he lifts his hands away. The gosling kicks its legs and makes a small circle, then nips at the water. "But only in bowls so far. I promised he'd get his exercise on my watch."

Minnie shakes her head, watching the gosling nip at the water and make a wider circle. "You're really going to let them keep it?"

"Winks looked for a nest, but he couldn't find one."

"If he'd gotten within ten feet, the angry mother would have gotten him first," Minnie says.

"And I figure, if he ends up being a problem, we'll take care of it right around Christmas dinner time."

"Colonel!" Minnie admonishes, though she has to cover her mouth to hide her smile.

"Well, Nurse Green, are you for or against the goose?" Harding asks, eyes bright with amusement. "First, you're disappointed I've got him, and now you're acting like it'd be bad to eat him."

Minnie gives in and laughs a little. She watches the way Harding's eyes crinkle at the edges as he picks up his coffee. The gosling makes a small noise and does another circle in the bowl.

"Perhaps your boys can teach him more manners than the geese at the farm ever had," Minnie says. "Something-something, the sins of the father and all that."

Harding leans back in his chair and sips his coffee. "We'll see. I heard them trying to pick a name today, and none of them were repeatable."

Minnie snorts and reaches for the reports Harding is here to discuss. "I'm sure I've heard all the words they're wanting to use," she says. "I've probably said a few myself."

"Haven't we all?" Harding agrees, and he leans forward again, elbows on his knees, a sign he's ready to get down to business. So, Minnie does.

[misc-obeyme]

okay okay I'm back with more self indulgent poly coffee au. Last time I said Lucifer fixed up the piano, and there's definitely another scene idea there, but I'm so excited about the Horror night one that I'm skipping the piano scene aksjdj. I even re-read the horror movie night devilgrams for research. Yeahhh, research,,,,(that one line from Mammon where he comments on MC's scared face lives rent free in my head). But I learned Mammon would have nightmares, and Solomon gets really into the plot.

okay so I think it'd be nice if the three of us meet on Wednesdays before I head to the record shop. Solomon brings his homework, but never gets much done, too happy to talk to us instead. Wednesday is the only day I wake up super early, all because I'm looking forward to hanging out for longer with the two of them. It gets me out of bed, but I have shown up looking groggy as hell some days. Record shop is open 11-7:30 Monday through Friday? And 11-9 on Saturday, but closed Sunday. The only reason it closes early is because I take the bus, and that's not something that's fun taking at night. Saturday night I stay at the shop (thinking of a mini storage/break room upstairs where I've set up a sleeping bag). Coffee shop I think is also closed Sunday, but Mon-Friday it's 7-3:30, with Saturday being 7-12 so he can get errands done. And then Sol has classes Mon/Tues/Thurs/Fri.

OKAY ANYWAY, WORLD BUILDING ASIDE, the three of us meeting on our usual Wednesday, and Solomon mentions this movie he wants to see. He says he has extra tickets because the people he planned on asking can't make it, it's a midnight showing on Friday. Says he understands if we can't since we both need to get up early the next day, but wanted to ask. I agree because I think it'd be nice to hang out outside of the coffee shop, and Mammon says he's not one to turn down a free outing. He can run on little sleep anyway, he's got espresso to help.

The three of us trying to figure out the logistics, Solomon saying he'll even pay for rides there and back home if needed. Mammon blurts out "Why don't y'all sleep over after?" and we both turn to look at him. He freezes and turns red, but he's already said it, he can't turn back now. "What? I-I got a car, I'll pick the two of you up, and y'all can stay at my place. T-That way, it's not too far from your shop, and your apartment, right?" "I could walk home from here, I wouldn't want to intrude-" "Yeah, I don't mind taking an uber-" "Walking at night can be dangerous, don't you know!? And you! Getting into a strangers car so late is even worse! I'll drive you both home if that's what ya want, but I don't mind having you two over." Solomon is fighting the urge to make a comment about it being like a date. I'm just happy to not have to wake up as early.

"Yo, why'd you want to go to the midnight showing anyway? Are ya that excited to see it?" "Haha, that's not the main reason. It's a horror movie! A midnight showing would be the most immersive." Cue me and Mammon freezing, giving each other terrified looks. Oh man.

Leading up to the outing date, Mammon and I are researching like crazy, only to find out it's the premiere. So there's no spoilers or ways to prepare. We're going in blind. I'm not one to watch many horror movies, the closest things being Saw, Final Destination (both of which I love), and I think a movie series called Paranormal Activity or something. But I always looked away during scary scenes during that. Yet I'm too stubborn to turn it off because I need to know the ending.

Friday comes, Mammon closes up and tries to take a nap to calm his nerves after stress cleaning to get everything neat for the sleepover. And no one planned it, but everyone has dressed up a little nicer than usual. Mammon's got a lucky watch that was gifted from Lucifer, and an open button up with the sleeves rolled up.

He gets in his car to go pick up Solomon, his heart hammering in his chest because Solomon is wearing a nice button up and maybe a sweater? And wearing cologne?? Please help Mammon, he is panicking, trying to reign it in as Solomon puts his overnight bag in the trunk. His voice cracks as he greets Solomon, and immediately begins driving to pick me up, turning up the music as a distraction.

Not sure what I'd wear, but I've got extra jewelry on because it makes me feel cool. Maybe a mesh shirt and a cardigan?? But I wear perfume, and I'm nervous without any clue why. I've got my wallet and my duffel bag, and snort when Solomon jumps out and opens the passenger door like a gentleman before climbing into the backseat. The drive is slightly tense, all of us nervous until I spot a car with a difference state plate. My friend introduced me to this game, and I instinctively bump Mammon's arm and call out the state, which breaks the tense atmosphere. The three of us fall into comfortable conversation until we reach the movie theater.

okay there's a really funny idea I have for the next part that happens during the actual movie. Solomon is going to be living his best life very soon OKAY BYEEE

- ✨ anon

AHHHH I wanna know about Solomon living his best life!! Lemme guess, he's sitting between you two and something especially scary happens so you're both clinging to him out of fear?!? LOL!

Oh man, both of you guys not liking horror is so cute! I totally get it, I'm not a horror fan at all. I can't watch horror movies because I get so freaked out, I can't sleep for months. Books seem to be no problem, but movies for some reason I can't handle lol.

ANYWAY I also love how Mammon is coming up with reasons why you should both sleep over, that is so sweet - of course he's getting all overprotective! Walking at night! Getting into a stranger's car!! You're gonna give him a conniption!

And ohh Solomon being the gentleman and opening the door for you, that's adorable, too!!

As always, I will be pleased to know what happens next, but of course no pressure & no rush! I'm just enjoying this cute lil love story~

[study-with-aura]

Friday, February 23, 2024

I am posting this on Saturday because H's mom needed to drop her off early since something came up on her end, so I never got the chance to post my Friday update. We had fun though. I still had my piano practice to do, so while I practiced, she worked on a few things that she needed to finish. On the other hand, she did say that my playing was beautiful, and I was elated to hear.

H also plays, but she goes back and forth between enjoying it and doing it because she wants to be done with it and her mom wants her to at least complete Level 10 and then if she wants to stop, she at least knows how to play extremely well in case she ever wants to come back to it in the future. I told H a while back when that was decided that I agreed with her Mom. It was good to at least have the knowledge as she didn't know what she would want in her future, so she plays often when she's in the mood and not often enough when she has no motivation. It works for her, so who am I to say anything?

I plan on doing ARCT and then I'll feel like I've mastered to where I want to be. I'm a completionist, and I actually do enjoy playing. It's why I'm trying to find more time. I want to finish by the time I finish my HS studies, but I also heard that I need ample time for the ARCT since it's a whole other level. If I pass my Level 9 exams, then I can start Level 10 and plan on completing that by the end 10th grade and then I would have two years to prepare for the ARCT exam. That's my plan anyway. My parents don't really care what I do as long I continue to enjoy playing. It's merely hard to find the time to practice! I can only do it by cutting short my supplemental study time, which I have done, but I don't really need a full 2-3 hours for that since I cut my reading down to only one extra book at a time instead of a supplemental book and a fun book along with assigned readings.

Am I doing too much? Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing enough at all.

It's time to practice again. I'll try to update about today (Saturday) a bit later.

Tasks Completed:

Geometry - Reviewed solving systems of equations graphically + reviewed equations of parallel and perpendicular lines + learned to find the distance between a point and a line + learned to find the shortest distance between two parallel lines + practice + honors work

Lit and Comp II - Reviewed Unit 16-18 vocabulary + read second part of chapter 26 of Emma by Jane Austen + read about understanding poetry + read about how to analyze poetry + read poems and marked figurative language identified + wrote a short poem using figurative language describing a scene from a photograph

Spanish 2 - Copied new vocabulary

Bible I - Read Joshua 17-18

World History - Watched lecture videos on what and why on the origins of WWI + started writing an essay describing how Balkan nationalism, entangling alliances, and militarism led to WWI (due Monday)

Biology with Lab - Finished my human impact presentation + presented to dad

PE/Health I - Read an article about resources for teen depression and stress

Foundations - Read the definition of resourcefulness + completed one minute creativity exercise + identified fallacies in stories and arguments

Piano - Practiced for two hours in one hour split sessions

Khan Academy - Completed World History Unit 6: Lesson 1 (parts 6-7) + completed High School Geometry Unit 6: Lesson 4 (parts 1-3) + Unit 6: Lesson 5 (some was assigned)

CLEP - None today

Duolingo - Studied for 15 minutes (Spanish, French, Chinese) + completed daily quests

Reading - Read pages 220-259 of My Dear Henry: A Jekyll & Hyde Remix by Kalynn Bayron and finished the book

Chores - Dusted my bedroom, my bathroom, and the study + laundered my bedding

Activities of the Day:

Personal Bible Study (Matthew 28)

Ballet

Pointe

Journal/Mindfulness

-

What I’m Grateful for Today:

I am grateful to have my friends over again tonight for a sleepover to get ready for our second to last cookie booth tomorrow.

Quote of the Day:

Never underestimate the power of dreams and the influence of the human spirit. We are all the same in this notion: The potential for greatness lives within each of us.

-Wilma Rudolph

🎧Symphony Op. 11 No. 1 in D major (Overture; 'L'amant anonyme') 1. Allegro - Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges

[thunderbunny24]

Second Chance at Love

I have to give credit to Billie Eilish for her song Ocean Eyes. I stole it for my OC. I also finally got the title of the whole story into the story.

Part 8

            It had felt like weeks since you had seen Matthew yet it was only 5 days.  You both had texted everyday and talked every night but your schedules made it impossible for you to get a babysitter and have a date.  You had decided to throw caution to the wind and invited him over for dinner with you and Violet for Thursday at 6pm.  He had agreed and promised to keep everything PG while Violet was awake.

            Violet was so excited about Matthew coming over that she decided to do her homework in the kitchen so she could listen for him and open the front door to see him first.  There was still about 30 minutes before he was supposed to get there so you went to your music room and worked.

            At 5:34pm there was a knock at your front door.  Violet jumped up and ran to the door.  She threw it open and squealed.  “Mr. Matt!”  She basically jumped into his arms.

            He laughed as he carried her in and shut the door.  “It’s good to see you again Miss Violet.”  He set her down.  “Where is your mom?”

            Violet pointed.  “She’s in her music room.  She tends to get a little extra inspired when she has writing times and studio times in the same week.  I can take you to her.”  She stuck her hand out and Matthew took it and followed the 8-year-old.  As they got closer to a room with the door shut and piano music coming from behind the door, Violet spoke softly.  “I’m not supposed to bother Mommy unless it’s an emergency.”

            Matthew nodded.  “Why don’t you go back and I’ll be the one who gets in trouble for bugging her.”  Violet nodded and skipped back down the hall.  He stood at the door listening to your voice singing along with the piano but didn’t recognize the song.

            You stopped and scribbled out a line on the piece of paper in front of you to rewrite it better.  You looked at the clock on your phone and thought, “He’ll be here soon.  One last time.”  You started playing the piano again.

I've been watching you for some time Can't stop staring at those ocean eyes Burning cities and napalm skies Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes Your ocean eyes

No fair You really know how to make me cry When you give me those ocean eyes I'm scared I've never fallen from quite this high Falling into your ocean eyes Those ocean eyes

            Matthew thought to himself, “Is that about me?  She said the other night my eyes were ocean blue.”  His cheeks flushed.  He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.  He heard the piano stool scoot back.  You opened the door and were shocked to see Matthew standing there.  Before you could even say anything, he pulled you into a big hug and kissed the top of your head.  “I’m early.”

            You smiled into his chest.  “You are.  How long have you been out here?”

            He released his hold so he could look into your eyes.  “Just a moment.  Violet told me you were in here.”  He leaned down and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

            You glanced over your shoulder to the piano then back at Matthew.  “Did you hear what I was working on?”  He nodded.  You turned bright red.  “It’s not done yet.  I just started working on it today.”

            Matthew leaned down and kissed your forehead.  “It sounded beautiful.  I look forward to hearing it completed one day.”

            You looked down at your feet and quietly said, “You have got to quit being early.”  You laughed then started walking towards the kitchen, Matthew a step behind you.  “I need to finish up dinner but it won’t take long if you want to hang out in the kitchen while I work.”

            “Violet seems to have already taken up residence in the kitchen so I’m glad to join in.  Is there anything I can help with?”  Matthew took a seat at the bar next to Violet when you pulled out a cutting board.

            Violet answered for you.  “Mommy is making her chicken enchiladas.  She’s a pro at them.  You just need to watch and enjoy.”  You laughed and rolled your eyes at your daughter.  “They are so good.  I wish Mommy would make them every week.  I even take them for lunch the next day and eat them cold.  You are going to be hooked.”

            “Violet!”  You lightly chastised your child.  “It’s just enchiladas.  Don’t build it up too much.”  You continued to chop up the chicken you had cooked earlier in the day.  “Are you almost done with your homework?”

            Violet nodded.  “Yes ma’am.  I just need to put it in my folder.”

            You took all the chicken you had cut up and placed it in a bowl.  “Why don’t you put it up then do all the stuff you need to get ready for school tomorrow?  Dinner will be ready in about 20 minutes.”  Violet reluctantly followed your instructions.  “Sorry if she is being a bit extra.  She is just really excited you are here.”

            Matthew shook his head as he watched you put more ingredients into the bowl.  “She is adorable.  I remember when my kids were that young and I would have friends over.”  Matthew laughed.  “Heck, I expect Addison to be like that when I have you over.”

            “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get anything together for earlier this week.  I don’t like Violet staying anywhere but home during the school week and her main sitter is in college and had a big test and two papers due this week.”  You started making the enchiladas.  “I do have her on standby for Saturday, if you are interested in getting together.”  You paused for a moment to look at Matthew to gauge his reaction.  “I’m not trying to force anything on you though.”

            “No, no.  I love it!”  Matthew smiled from ear to ear.  “Maybe you could come to my place and I can cook for you.  Maybe even have a bit of a sleepover.”  Matthew sounded so energetic and the idea made you blush.

            “Sounds like a plan.”  You popped the enchiladas in the oven and set the timer.

            “What sounds like a plan?”  Violet hopped back onto the stool at the bar she was sitting at earlier.

            You walked over and leaned on the counter.  “How would you like to have Caitlin babysit you again on Saturday after your playdate with Anna?”  Violet wiggled in her seat in excitement.  “You may know her, Matthew.  Caitlin is Breckin Meyers’s daughter.”

            Matthew laughed.  “I do.  He and I ran in the same circles in the 90s and early 2000s plus he did a stent on Good Girls.”

            You nod.  “I’ve just started watching Good Girls.  I’m only in the middle of season one.”

            Matthew raised an eyebrow.  “You’re watching my show?”

            You wink at him.  “Violet, why don’t you go set the table?”  You walked around the bar as Matthew rotated his stool so that your body was between his legs.  You leaned into Matthew’s ear.  “That scene in the first episode in your office was pretty hot.”  You ran your hands up his denim covered legs.

            Matthew put his hands on your hips and whispered into your ear.  “You can sit on my desk anytime you want and I will do way worse to you.”  He bit your earlobe making you let out a soft moan as you pressed your body closer to his.

            “Mommy, can you do drinks?”  Violet asked.

            You let out a sign and nod as you step back from Matthew.  “Yes ma’am I can.”  You gave Matthew a seductive look.  “We have water, sweet tea, some soft drinks and some adult beverages.  What would you like, sir?”

            “I want tea.”  Violet answered.

            Matthew looked at you and licked his lips.  “I’ll just take some water.”  He got up from the bar and walked into the kitchen to help.

            The three of you ate dinner together in the dining room, each chatting about your day and what you had going on the next day, with Matthew sitting at the head of the table.  After dinner Matthew helped you clean up the kitchen while Violet took her shower, then you all went to the living room and sat on the couch to watch a movie.  Violet used your lap as a pillow while Matthew played with your hair.  By the time the movie was over, you had fallen asleep on Matthew’s shoulder.  Violet whispered to him that she could put herself to bed and for him to stay still and let you sleep.  He shook his head and gently replaced his shoulder with a couch pillow and helped get Violet to bed.  After she was all tucked in, Matthew opened doors upstairs until he found which room he believed to be your bedroom then walked down the stairs to the living room to get you.  You hadn’t moved at all.  He scooped you up and brought you into the bedroom, placing you on the bed and covering you up with a blanket he saw on a chair in the room.

            Matthew leaned down to give you a kiss on the forehead goodbye when you reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt.  “Please don’t leave.” You sleepily said.  Matthew smiled then kicked off his shoes and went to sit on the other side of your bed.  You rolled over and grabbed his leg like it was your teddy bear.  It was obvious you were asleep but he decided to stay until you rolled over and let go of his leg.  Until then, he sat scrolling through his phone, playing with your hair and listening to you snore like a grown man.

            “You are the one.”  Matthew said, barely audible.  “You are my second chance at love.  My second chance at a complete family.  My second soulmate.”  Tears came to his eyes as he looked down at you and imagined your lives together.  “You may be my second but I will love you so hard, like you are my first.”

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

            Violet opened your bedroom door and was surprised to see both you and Matthew on the bed asleep.  She walked over to your side and lightly nudged you.  “Mommy, it’s 6 o’clock.  Time to wake up.”  You made a grumbling noise.  Violet nudged you again.  “Mommy, you need to wake up and get ready.”  You grumbled again but opened your eyes and saw your daughter standing just a few inches from your face.  “Good morning Mommy!  Do you want me to wake up Mr. Matt too?”

            You scrunched your eyebrows.  “Mr. Matt?”

            “Yeah.”  Violet pointed.  “He’s asleep too.”

            “What…Matt…What?”  Violet pointed at the arm around your waist.  “Shit!  No sweetheart.  I’ve got it.  You go get ready for school.”  Violet nodded and bounced out of your room.  You finally registered the weight of the arm around your waist and the leg laying over your legs.  You tried to slip out of the bed but there was no moving Matthew’s body.  You decided to start nudging his arm.  “Matthew…Matt.”

            He buried his face in your hair and sleepily said, “I like when you call me Matt.”

            You smiled and nudged him again.  “Matt, you need to wake up.”  He shook his head and pulled you closer to him.  You could feel his morning erection pressing against your butt.  “Matt, sweetheart, you have to get up because I have to get Violet to school.”  You hear him grumble then remove his arm and leg to stretch behind you, making him feel even taller than he already was.  “Good morning sleepyhead.”

            Matt sat up and smiled at you.  “Good morning to you.”  He started looking around for his glasses.  “I didn’t mean to stay here last night but you had a death grip on my leg.”  He leaned in to kiss you but you pulled back and covered your mouth.  Matt grabbed your wrists and pulled them down.  “I have morning breath too.  Come here.”  You gave in and leaned in for a kiss.

            “I don’t remember coming up here.  Last thing I remember was Ariel getting her human legs from Mellisa McCarthy.”  You got off the bed and started walking to your bathroom.  Matt followed.

            “You passed out and when the movie was over, I put you both to bed.”  Matt walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and making eye contact with your reflection.  “That was the best sleep I’ve had in years.”

            You smiled and nodded.  “Me too and without my CPAP.”

            Matt laughed.  “Yeah, you needed that.  You snore like a man.”  You blushed.  Matt kissed the top of your head.  “I could listen to it all night, though.  Hell, I did listen to it all night.”  You turned around and smacked him in the chest.  “Hey now!”  He laughed.  “I don’t want to do this but I better leave so you can do what you need to get Violet ready for school.  I’ll text you later.”  You pouted but gave him a hug and walked him down to the front door.

            “Matth…Matt, thank you for last night.  It kind of felt like what having a family should feel like.”

            Matt gave you a huge hug.  “I would love to always feel like a family with you.”  He leaned down to give you a quick kiss.  “I’ll text you, okay.”  You nod.  “Goodbye sweetheart.”

            You stood at the door and watched him walk to his car, waving when he made eye contact with you.  Once he started to drive off, you went inside to start getting ready for the day.

[write-feel-live-love]

Wednesday Wellness #1

Self-Esteem Edition...

So I bought this self-esteem work book in hopes it would help me feel better about myself. In it, it suggests journaling. My therapist agrees. I'm at the part where it suggests I review my day every night using basic questions. My therapist agrees. SO here goes...

If you could rate your day on a scale of one to ten (one being unhappy and ten being extremely happy), how would you rate it? 6/7

Briefly describe your day, what happened to make it a happy/ unhappy one? Include even the mundane stuff (you never know, there might be some hidden joy lurking in cleaning the toilet!). Woke up, got ready in peace (that was nice). Cuddles with hubby. Got my daughter up. Got my son ready. Went downstairs to make breakfast for us all. Didn't do my morning chores, because we had to get to an early doc appt for my son. Found parking easy. Checked in. Got in relatively on time. Children went crazy in the doctors office. Daughter threw a fit because I told her to get off the doctor's chair. Went to library for story time. Chasing both kids around. Story time. Home. Lunch. Nap. I played Sims 4 (working on creating a new save file). Kids got up. Made dinner. Husband took daughter to store so I had the boy child. Called my parents once they got back. Bath time for wee one with young Frankenstein musical on in the background. Got 15 minutes of alone time. Read to child. I've been searching for a way to find Big Brother online to watch it so I can engage with co-workers. Failed.

Try to keep some notes in a diary or journal every day for a week. Using your notes, try to identify any patterns. What were you doing on the days that you felt at your best? What didn't make you feel good? I'm pretty good at detecting patterns in my own behavior. I definitely get thrown off when my routine is off (like when I can't get my chores done in the morning). I get really overwhelmed by noise, so the kids being crazy at the doctor's office while I'm trying to listen and answer questions is frustrating. My daughter is in a rough time for listening right now, and that's hard to deal with. (I'm a teacher, I get triggered when I have to repeat myself or go through extra lengths to get attention.) My daughter is also insanely whiney lately and that's driving me nuts. I'm really dysregulated, so she's dysregulated. (Side note....dysregulated? disregulated? autocorrect might be wrong this time...)

What makes you feel amazing? When do you feel most like yourself? When do you laugh most? When do you feel peaceful? Shit man, get deep. Okay. I feel amazing when everything goes according to plan. I can follow my routines with relative ease and minimal disruptions. I feel amazing when my kids are happy and content (within reason). I feel like myself I've accomplished things on my to do list and feel successful in my day going the way I wanted it to go. I laugh when I'm relaxed enough to enjoy my kids being kids or when I'm out with friends. I feel peaceful when my kids are asleep or gone and I have time to myself.

How could you do more of these things? Can you do one of them every day? I get daily time to myself. My husband is amazing and sees me. He often offers to take one or both kids on quick trips at night so I can have time, or even just letting me go upstairs while he takes care of them. I get alone time. I'm making an effort to out with friends more, but my friends are teachers too and it makes it hard to get together when they're fitting in vacations and family time. I try really hard to follow my routines. I very much am working on accomplishing my routines and staying on track. I think a big piece of my issue this week has been sleep. I was up too late Sunday and Monday night. Last night I don't think I slept well. That always plays a big role in my ability to function. I'm going to work on making sure I'm getting enough sleep and peaceful routines in the morning.

Well, that wasn't too bad. This might be my routine for a few Wednesdays, but overall this seems easy. Might move on to different prompts. We'll find out.

Thanks for listening Void. You always make me feel heard.