#idk why i can't seem to get back into hall now

[hussyknee]

Something Fabulous is very very funny, but I honestly just want to take both Tarletons out into a wood and abandon them there. Valentine might have a stick up his ass but to be honest I'd be a lot less restrained if I had to deal with Arabella. I get why he might have the hots for Bonny but good lord no amount of cherubic dick could possibly be worth putting up with a persistent litany of everything that's wrong with you in service of an idiot who doesn't want you in the first place.

Edit: Valentine accidentally hurt Peggy trying to get free of the chair they tied him to and now they've all decided he's a monster, including Valentine himself. He's shamefully allowing himself to be locked in the cellar. Kids, this is straight up abuse apologia. Fuck my OCD, I'm DNFing and deleting it from my Kindle. I expected better of you, Alexis Hall.

[awrkive]

Idk I must have some problems I need to talk about with my therapist, but I NEED the #3 lmao

summary: jungkook is usually a nice guy from the way he interacts with other people – but the only exception comes to you. and you can't figure out why.

w/c: 3.5k

note: aurkayyyy general consensus says write part 3 and that post got 40 likes idk so here it is ig.. unedited cos its 3am but also i tried my very best awrkive nation 😞💔 under the cut cos its long asf for a drabble crying

People always gravitate to you. You have this sort of unbreakable and contagious energy around you that just pulls people right into your orb – your classmates in middle school through college, your cousins, even the cashiers at the cafes you like visiting downtown every here and there. 

And it is why Jeon Jungkook from your Environmental Science class baffles you. Because while everybody in the lecture hall – even prof Nam – likes to give you a smile or even just a nod of acknowledgement when you walk in, he does the total opposite and will just do about anything to avoid you. 

It had been during the first week of the term when you realized this fact. When Jungkook seemed to have abhorred the idea of sitting next to you because somebody had “stolen” his seat. 

Of course he knew the fact that you technically could not “steal” a seat in college – there are no such things as assigned seats in college, after all – so you had kindly offered the empty chair beside you, then, but he just looked at you with his knitted brows, like he couldn’t believe you had asked him that in the first place. 

In the end, he chose the free seat at the back of the hall – even though as far as you know him, he’s the type to like sitting in the front rows to engage with the class better. 

However, that did not deter you from trying to befriend him. In fact, it just made you want to get closer to him more. 

You like Jeon Jungkook. Not romantically, of course! You just like the fact that he is extremely smart and listen, he seems nice. The girls always have something good to say about him, and he’s friends with one of your closest friends, Namjoon – whose judgment you trust most of all. He’s acquainted with most of the people you know and you’ve seen him interact with others ��� he’s charming and doesn’t exactly look broody and uninterested when he’s with them. 

So when Prof Nam partnered you both in a presentation for your final requirement for the term, you were over the moon to have been given the opportunity. 

“__,” Jungkook calls, but you’re way too busy admiring the strands of his hair that had now been dyed to gold – a contrast to his previously dark brown locks. It’s mostly hidden from the beanie he’s wearing. Something you’ve noticed he’s been wearing a lot these days even though it’s not that cold. 

You think it’s because he’s not too keen on getting attention for his newly dyed hair.

Jungkook calls your name one more time, and this time it snaps you out of your trance. 

“Hm?” You look up, blinking at him – only to be met with his knitted brows again. At that all too familiar look by now, you frown slightly, knowing the tell-tale signs of his annoyance. 

“I’ve been asking you about biofuels for the past two minutes.” 

“Oh!” Your eyes widen for a bit, quickly looking at your iPad. “Uhm… it’s here…” you slide your device over to his direction and he’s quick to read over your work. With him seated beside you, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and you don’t even think it’s cologne in the first place. It just seems like his natural smell – like fresh laundry. Downy or something. 

Ever since you started working on the project, you’ve been going to cafes and the library to work on it – for at least an hour – and you’re starting to get accustomed to everything Jeon Jungkook. He’s smart – and that’s a given – but he also smells really good; that’s what you noted specifically.

But most importantly, he’s dyed his mid-length hair blonde. And he looks different but somehow… really handsome. With his prescription glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, you just can’t help but to look. 

“Where is your citation for this?” He says, pointing to a certain part of your work. 

At that, you grow anxious. Jungkook’s really serious about his academics. And even though he looks distracting with his blonde hair right now, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous. 

You’re not dumb or something! You’ve survived three years of college just fine – you’re just not the likes of him, or Namjoon, for that matter. But you do well for yourself. 

But Jungkook, reading over your work with furrowed brows, you can’t help but second-guess yourself.

Especially when the next thing you can say is just, “Oh, uhm… I thought citations would only be after every four sentences?” 

“Did you not read the instructions?” Jungkook says. It’s not harsh but there’s a certain lilt to it. A bit pointed that you visibly recoil. As if noticing you do that, Jungkook clears his throat and looks right back to your iPad. With a tone that considerably sounds gentler to you this time, he says, “You should put a citation every three sentences.” 

“Okay…” You say. You look at Jungkook and you give him a tight-lipped smile when he meets your gaze. “I’m sorry.” 

His gaze lasts longer than necessary – he almost always doesn’t really look at you but this time he does, and just when you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, he peels his eyes away from you and turns to his computer, not saying anything. 

You sulk in your seat, revising your paper while Jungkook acts like a stranger beside you again. 

“Kook…” you say after awhile. You watch as Jungkook visibly stills at the nickname. Nonetheless, he hums, but he doesn’t stray his eyes from his laptop. “I really like your hair.” 

Nothing. 

“Kookie…” This time, you poke at the material of his purple hoodie. “I said I like your hair.” 

He doesn’t budge. 

When you make a move to poke him again, he finally says, “I heard that.” 

You turn back to your google doc with a pout. 

You don’t know what you’re expecting from him. A thank you, maybe? But that would be unlikely for him to say to you. He’s just always so quiet around you. Annoyed, irritated—

“Thank you.” 

At first you don’t quite catch it, but you kind of got the gist. Unbelieving, you turn to him with a confused look. “What?” 

“Isaidthankyou.” 

But it was spoken so fast that you just grew more puzzled. 

“What…?” 

“Nevermind.” He says, hacking away on his laptop again. 

You pout the whole time writing your paper. 

———

You’re just about to approach Jungkook to talk about your recent development for your project when somebody beats you to it first. 

It’s Han Hyorin from the same class. You made friends with her from another minor you’ve had in the previous semester and she was a really nice woman – sort of similar to you. A big ball of sunshine, all smiles and cheerful and full of energy. It’s why you clicked instantly a few months ago. 

But that’s also why it surprises you when you see her talking animatedly with Jungkook and him listening to her attentively – smiling and laughing. 

Certainly not his vibe when you’re the one in conversation with him. 

Listen, you’ve been so accustomed to his behavior to you all this time that you just don’t mind it now. But for the record, you just thought that maybe – he just can’t quite level up to your energy. You’re too bubbly and he’s too… calm. And you get that! You certainly don’t hold it against him. 

But as he catches a glimpse of you his mood turns completely different, no longer smiling ear to ear. It makes Hyorin stop speaking, turning her body to look at your direction as well. 

“Oh, hi __!” She greets, grinning. “I was just talking to Jungkook here.” 

“Hi, Hyorin.” You wave at her, mirroring her smile. You walk towards them, hugging your iPad tight to your chest. “Hi, Jungkook.” 

He just sends you a timid smile. 

Weirdly enough, it makes your heart twinge. 

“Anyway, are you two gonna work on your project? Sorry for keeping him up, if that’s the case. I’ll be off then.” Hyorin says as she picks up her bag. She looks at Jungkook once again, saying, “I’ll send the link to you later, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook only nods before Hyorin walks out of the lecture hall.

You watch her disappearing back before you turn to Jungkook. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.” 

He shrugs. “We talk sometimes.” 

“Ah.” You nod. 

“Anyway, you got my text, right? Hoseok said it’s too crowded at 556 right now. And my laptop’s dead so I can’t use it either. Left my charger at my place,” he says, starting to put his stuff in his backpack. 

“Yeah, I got it,” you say, stepping out a bit to let him out of his row. You follow beside him when he begins to walk. “Well, where should we do the project?” 

You see Jungkook wince. “I have no choice but do you mind if I just suggest my place? I have a roommate but he’s not around this time. Or we can just call it off for today and resched.” 

You blink at him. “Your place?” 

He arches a brow. “Yeah. Is it okay? Do you have something else in mind?” 

Shaking your head, you look straight ahead. “It’s fine.” 

“It’s just a three minute walk from the campus. Do you mind?” 

“Nope.” 

“Alright, then.” 

——— 

Jungkook thinks you’re strange today. 

You’re usually so full of stories. Never ran out of things to say. His silence never deterred you from sharing something and even though Jungkook would deny it to you and to all his friends – he actually secretly enjoys your blabbering. Finds most of them funny.

But right now, you’re all quiet on your iPad and notes, focused on doing your work. The last thing he’s heard you say something was when you commented earlier, “This is a nice place,” when you stepped inside the threshold of his and Taehyung’s apartment.

No comment about his hair. Or his hoodie. Or the stupid occasional, “You look handsome today.” that makes his heart perform backflips against his ribcage and makes him all nervous that he can’t really look straight into your eyes for the rest of your interaction.

He finds it strange that he finds you strange today. He should be… happy about this right? He always tells his friends that you’re too… loud when they ask why he doesn’t seem to like you. For the record, he does not not like you. Jungkook just thinks you’re too much. 

Or that you make him feel too much it drives him insane.

“Are you alright?” He breaks the ice after a few minutes. He couldn’t help it. This isn’t like you at all. At this point, you should have already told him twenty different stories that includes your breakfast and the bird that keeps knocking on your window every 5am. By this time, you should have already asked him if he likes your outfit or some stupid shit like if he likes your nails. 

For the record, he likes all of them. Your blush pink nails and your pink skirt that stops above your thigh, exposing your smooth thighs that Jungkook always berates himself not to look at. You always wear skirts. He hates them. 

He hates that he doesn't really hate them. At all. 

“Huh?” You turn to look at him, blinking. Meek and pouty and puzzled. You look so cute it confuses the hell out of him. 

“I asked if you’re okay.” Jungkook says, leveling his voice. Lest he gives himself away. What would he give away, though? That he’s weirdly worried about your silence? That he’s starting to think maybe you’re getting fed up with his constant avoidance of you and you’re starting to realize he’s a shit person and he doesn’t deserve any of your time? 

That he’s putting way too much meaning into this? 

And what for? 

“Oh,” you utter. A bit taken aback. You nibble on your bottom lip and Jungkook tries hard not to focus too much on the way your gloss makes them look so plump. You had pretty lips. Jungkook’s not that prideful to admit that. Just to himself, though. “Yeah. I am fine. Why do you ask?” 

He clears his throat. “Nothing.” 

You look at him with furrowed brows but don’t really say anything further. “Okay.” 

When you go back to working in silence simultaneously again, Jungkook finds himself not being able to focus on the words of the journal article he’s reading. There’s a sentence to it he’s been going right over and over again. Everytime he reads it, it’s like the point just crosses right over his head and his efficacy in the language degrades every single time he repeats it internally.

All the while, you’re still quiet. 

And Jungkook’s had enough. 

Why weren't you saying anything? 

“__.” 

“Hm?” When you tilt your head to look at him, Jungkook nearly falls over his bed. You’re across the room on his computer desk while he’s on the mattress. 

God, you are so unbelievably beautiful without trying it makes his head ache. 

“Are you –uh. What’s with you today?” He finally asks. He watches as your face contorts into an expression of confusion once again, which he can’t really blame you for feeling the way. 

“What’s with me today?” 

“You’re just…” he tries to find the right words. “Quiet.” 

You don’t say anything for a while that Jungkook was about to take his words back. 

“Oh… I’m just not feeling well today, I think.” 

His brows furrowed. You looked perfectly fine today. You were your usual sunshine shelf when you stepped in class – all big grins and pretty laugh Seo Jihyun as usual was trying too hard to get your attention beside you all day. 

“Really?” He asks. “Do you need something?” 

It takes you by surprise. But you recover fast. “No, it’s fine.” 

“We don’t have to do this today if you’re feeling under the weather.” 

You laugh. And Jungkook thinks that’s a win. He thought he wasn’t getting any of that for today. 

“It’s fine, thank you, Jeon.”

Jeon?! Jeon, like his surname? 

He chooses to ignore that. But then a few minutes passed and he spoke again. God, he couldn’t stand any of this.

“How’s the bird?” 

“The bird?” You parrot back. 

“The bird at your window.” 

“Oh!” A flash of recognition goes through your face. “That. Well – as usual it knocked on my window again.” you giggle and it’s the first time Jungkook feels a little light ever since you entered his place. 

Good. This is good. 

“I didn’t know you’d remember that.” You say, giving him a small smile. 

Jungkook feels his cheeks burning so he had to look away. “You tell me about it everyday.” 

There’s a pout he can feel you’re sporting when you say, “But I thought you don’t care.” 

Jungkook frowns at that. 

But he realizes… he gets it. He doesn’t exactly show the opposite.

When he looks at you, your eyes are solemn and your downturned lips look so sad that it makes him feel like shit. 

See. This is why he’s always confused when he’s with you. You make him feel so much all at once and he can’t quite put it. 

“You tell me a lot of stuff everyday.” Is what he settles with. 

“Fair.” You say after awhile. “But uhm…” 

“Yes?” Jungkook immediately says, intrigued. You’re about to speak when his phone rings. You both look at the small device lying on his bed. When Jungkook picks it up, the caller ID says Han Hyorin. “Sorry, I’ll just pick this up.” 

Pressing on the green icon, he hears Hyorin’s voice at the end of the line. 

“Hey, Kook,” 

“Hi, Hyorin. What is it?” 

“What was your student email again? I can’t really find it on the roster.”

Jungkook recites it and then that’s the end of the conversation. He finds it strange because she could’ve just texted him but anyway, he turns to you again after the call ends. 

“Who was that?” You ask curiously. 

“Hyorin.” 

You still in your seat. Then nod. 

You don’t say anything again. 

And that stretches into another few minutes that Jungkook is once again confused. When he looks right over to you, you’re all up in your device. 

He stands up from the bed, leaves his laptop on the mattress, and then walks right over to your direction to stand behind the chair you’re seated on. Ducking down a bit, he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re doing. 

“You’re almost done?” 

When you turn back, your faces are so close to each other that his swivel chair creaks a little when you get taken aback. Jungkook steps back. 

“Yeah. I think so. You?” You say, looking up at him. 

Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair, inserting his hand on his pockets as he looks straight ahead on your screen. 

“I’ll finish up later.” 

You nod then turn back to your iPad. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows meet once again and he sighs. 

“__,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you mad at me?” 

You turn to him so quickly. “What?” 

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks because he can’t take any of this anymore. You’re so… distant. And it makes him feel like he’s on edge. “You’ve been so quiet since we got here. I want to apologize if I did something wrong. But even if I didn’t, then I’m still sorry.”

Jungkook watches as your lips part, surprised to hear the words coming out of his mouth. Jungkook’s not the one to shy away from apologies – if he’s done something wrong, then he makes sure to take accountability. 

It’s different when it’s with you, though. He knows he isn’t exactly his nicest and his best to you… but it’s his complicated feelings that get in the way. He doesn’t know how to handle them. He doesn’t know how to handle you. 

“N-no!” You say. “You didn’t do anything.” 

He sends an arched brow your way. 

You shake your head vigorously. “It’s just… uhm… I thought…” 

“You thought…?” 

You look away, and it’s the first time Jungkook sees you seemingly shy. 

“I thought you’d like my company more if I didn’t talk much.” 

Now Jungkook’s just perplexed. 

You. ibble on your bottom lip before you say your next words. “I know you don’t exactly like me that much – that you’re just putting up with me because of this project and all that, but I really like you. Uhm. As a friend. I’d like to be your friend but I’m realizing now that I’m probably just annoying you with all of my blabbering and it’s unfair to you that I just keep on imposing myself on you even though you make it very clear that you’re not keen on befriend—” 

“__?” 

“— hm?” 

“Stop that.” Jungkook says because he can’t bear to hear you say things that aren’t the least bit true at all. “It’s not true.” 

“Which part?” you pout.

Jungkook would like to wipe that off your face with something. Like his lips. And that thought sends him into overdrive. He needs to get a grip of himself, seriously. 

“Everything.” 

What he doesn’t expect is for you to just frown. 

“You’re a liar.” 

“What?” 

You burst. “Well, for one– you always avoid me! You don’t even greet me in the hallways. And even in the same class you don’t smile at me or anything and the only time you ever acknowledge me is when we do this stupid project and okay I get it, you only like bubbly girls when they’re Han Hyorin, but why not me?”

Jungkook, puzzled, asks, “How’d Hyorin get into this?” 

Your shoulders deflate. “I don’t know.” 

“Can you—” Jungkook inhales a sharp breath. He closes his eyes before opening them back again. “Can you listen to me?” 

You plop back down on the chair with an indignant huff. Jungkook lets out a low chuckles but you only glare at him. 

So goddarn cute, he thinks to himself. 

“You’re just… you’re just too much okay?” He sees the way your face falls and he nearly punches himself for how he worded it. “Wait no– that’s not right. I meant, you’re just – you make me feel a lot of things, __.” 

“Things?” 

“Yeah. You confuse me.” 

“Why?” You look so confused it melts Jungkook. 

“I don’t know how to explain it either. Just that… you need to know I don’t not like you. I like your little blabbering. I look forward to your breakfast stories. I like your nails. I like your skirt. And I like your new apple pencil case.” 

Jungkook watches as your face turns soft. And suddenly, you have that million dollar grin again on your face. 

“Really?” 

“Hm.” 

You squeal and the next thing he knows you’re onto him, arms wrapped around his neck, locking him into a hug. 

“We’re friends now?” 

Jungkook takes the opportunity to encircle your waist around his arms, noting the size difference. And how easy it was for him to snuggle his nose subtly into your hair to smell your sweet shampoo and perfume in that position. 

You always smell so good. 

“Friends.” 

Jungkook doesn’t really think he can take both of you as just being friends, though.

[viixenvi]

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 18+

Summary: You friend drags you to a celebrity house party since she's a famous influencer. You get very bad anxiety and hide in the master bedroom, unbeknownst to you, Mitch comes up to get away from his party and finds you in his room. And God, does he like the way you look on his bed.

Characters: Famous!Mitch Rapp x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Oral (fem receiving), makeouts, pet names (baby, love), Mitch is drunk, Reader is tipsy, Reader receives mostly, p in v penetration (no sex), cockwarming

A/N: Not proofread or edited! also I tried something different with cockwarming, idk if yall will like it but oh well. I'm trying a lot of new things with coming up fics! (possible pt 2 where we get rough Dom!Mitch?)

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈

As much as you loved your best friend, she never seemed to understand that you hated parties. Nevertheless, you always went with her when she invited you. Mostly just to look out for her.

Here you were, at a celebrity's house party in LA. Its funny, you don't recognize a single person you've seen so far. Leah, your best friend, took shots with you and you ended up losing her in the crowd.

As the party grew larger, you got more anxious. You'd much rather be home, in the comfort of your own home. You were now tipsy and made yourself upstairs carefully.

It was less crowded upstairs but still not quiet enough for you. You slowly made your way down the hall and to the only room that seemed to be closed.

You walk right in, shutting the door behind you and sitting down on the bed. Your clothes felt uncomfortable now, so you pulled off your shirt. You are left in a bralette and skirt.

"God, why do I say yes to her," you groan to yourself, laying back onto the bed. You stare at the ceiling, there is nothing there but it seems more interesting then the party outside of the room.

The music is so loud that you don't even hear the door open or close. Mitch is staring at you for a few seconds, soaking in your looks, before he says anything.

You are startled by the clearing of his throat and you jump up. He chuckles and sits on his bed, opposite of you. "What are you doing here?" You question.

"I can't come to my own room?" he jokes, you blush a little in embarrassment and look at the ground.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't know this was your house."

"I should ask you why you are here actually," he turns to look at you, smiling. You cant look away from his eyes. He's gorgeous.

"I just got anxiety out there. I'm not the party type, especially celebrity parties," you laugh, picking at your finger. Mitch nods and looks away from you for a moment.

"Yea, I didn't even want to host this party. My manager thought it would be good to announce my newest movie. I'm Mitch by the way."

"I'm Y/n, it's nice to meet you. Are you an actor?" you shake his hand. His look seems to linger on your chest and you almost forget you are in a bralette that is mostly see through.

"Yea, I guess I am," Mitch chuckles. You have no idea that he's one of the biggest actors currently and he seems to like that. It's refreshing to him.

You look down and only now realize how you look. You scramble to find your shirt and cover up your chest. "Oh I'm so sorry! It just got so hot in here!"

Mitch shakes his head and slowly pulls away the shirt. "Nothing to be ashamed of, you are beautiful," your shit is disregarded on the floor and Mitch is now close enough that you can smell the alcohol on him.

You can't even stop to think before you push your lips onto his. Suddenly you are on his lap and his hands are running down your body.

"Fuck. I can't believe im doing this," You whisper against his lips. He chuckles and flips you over so your back is on the bed. He kisses your neck, moving his hands to unclip your bralette.

You pull it off and he stops just to stare at you. "You're beautiful, baby." He continues kissing down your body. You almost shiver at the kisses he placed right at your hips.

His fingers hook at the top of your skirt and he taps your hips. "Up." You push your lower body up and he pulls the skirt off easily.

Your hands are on his hair the moment he starts kissing you again. He presses both hands to your thighs and pushes them open, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

He doesn't hesitate before pushing his face against your pussy. His tongue swirls against you and you bite back moans that ultimately make their way out.

He hums at your pleasure, enjoying all the noises you are making. You press his head down more and he doesn't seem to care.

"Fuck!!" you moan out, letting go of his hair and gripping the sheets instead. There's a hot feeling in your stomach and the pressure builds up heavily.

"Go ahead, cum for me baby." Your legs shake, pushing together on his head as you cum.

It feels so good you almost see white for a moment. Mitch continues to lick your clit after you cum and it may be the most heavenly think you have felt.

When he finally pulls away, his face is covered in your juices. He smiles at you, and you want to kiss him so badly for how sexy he looks.

You don't hesitate pulling him in for a kiss, making him climb on the bed. His hands run up your body, pinching your nipples. Pleasure courses through your body and you moan into the kiss.

"I need you," You whisper out, he pulls away from the kiss. He moves away for a moment, pulling the rest of his clothes off. You can't stop staring at his cock.

You reach over to give him a handjob but he pushes your hand away gently. "Shh. I want to fuck you when I'm sober." You nod, moving to grab your clothes but he stops you. "I never said I wanted you to leave, pretty girl," he says, pulling your back to his chest. He pulls the blanket over you two.

"What are you doing?" you ask when you feel his cock press against your hole. He chuckles and pushes himself into you, causing you to moan.

"Just gettin' warm. Go to sleep, baby."

[daddyfordaeddy]

⟣ pairing: cult! ateez x f! reader, cult leader! hongjoong x f! reader (focused), implied cultist! yunho x f! reader

⟣ genre: cult au, smut, e for explicit

⟣ warnings: consumption of alcohol (off of yn's body). !! yn is being inducted into a cult. why she decided to join the cult is up to you but while she's fully aware and accepting of it at this point in time, cults are cults. !! smut warnings under cut

⟣ word count: 1061

⟣ summary: it's the night of your initiation into the Hala Collective. the smell of crisp wine fills the air. you wonder what will happen.

⟣ written for @cultofdionysusnet's permevent (2nd submission). i do hope u all enjoy as this took me,,,,a little too long to write. <3

smut warning: licking (bear with me), food play (wine) (pls bear with me), fingering (f), marking, hongjoong makes yn taste her own release idk what to call it, implied oral (f)

-

A shiver runs up and down your spine, not from the chilly initiation hall, but from the stares on your body. But it’s all for the greater good, and so you shove down the shame and embarrassment building in your stomach and let the cloaked figures approach you slowly. You can’t help but feel nervous as the leader of the Hala Collective steps forward, letting his hood fall back and revealing his pretty face.

“YN LN, please welcome the Inner Circle of the Collective. I’m sure you remember them from your first introductions.” He smiles, all sharp angles. “Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the marble slab behind you, the size of it almost taking up half the room.

Without any words, you settle down on the edge of the marble, wincing a little at the chill you feel. Having to forgo clothes for this, you feel every stare on your naked form. “What will happen?” You can't help but to voice your curiosity.

Kim Hongjoong chuckles, stepping closer, his eyes wandering appreciatively over your chest. “We will pour our sacred wine on you, and swallow you whole. Then you will be reborn.”

You nod once, and that’s enough for Hongjoong as he reaches out and gently guides you to lay back on the marble. Your eyes squeeze shut at the cold stone against your back and you can hear soft chuckles from above you.

“If you must, you may keep your eyes shut. We will begin the pouring now.” That’s the only warning you get before you feel a cooling sensation on your sternum and you gasp, your eyes flying open.

All you see is a few faces hovering over you, their eyes covered by ornate swan masks. “Lay still,” one of them murmurs, his eyes soft but his smile wolfish. “It will be pleasurable, we’ll make sure of that.”

You nod almost imperceptibly before closing your eyes again, letting your mind be lost in the feeling of the wine dripping down your body. It doesn’t last for long before they fly open again, wet tongues pressing against your skin and lapping up the wine. An involuntary whine leaks its way out of your throat and your hands fly up to cover your mouth in embarrassment.

“Do not worry your pretty head about it,” Hongjoong’s warm voice floats in above you, his body far enough you cannot see him. He is not participating in the drinking of wine. “Like we said, the wine has been poured, and now we swallow you whole,” he repeats. His hand reaches out to stroke your head gently, and your eyes flutter shut once more.

With each swipe of their tongues, you can feel wetness pool beneath your legs, and then none of them make any move to dip lower than your hips, letting the stray streaks of wine drip down to mix with your slick. Their fingers dance over your skin, pressing your hips down and playing with your nipples when you keep still for them. You can’t decide whether to keep your eyes open or closed, whimpers and moans floating out of your mouth.

Hongjoong has moved closer to sit by your head, petting your hair, and every so often you turn your head to press your face against his warm and firm thigh. He doesn’t seem to mind, soft chuckles escaping his throat every time you mouth subconsciously against his clothed leg. You both hate and love how their touches are almost enough, your orgasm dancing just out of reach.

With one final kiss to your nipple, all the touches but Hongjoong’s quickly pull away and your eyes slowly open and you sit up to see them back to their original places in a circle around you. “What’s next?” Your question comes out breathily, a red flush on your cheeks from how worked up you are.

“You are,” Hongjoong answers easily, his voice dipping down into a low rumble as his hand shifts from your head down to your face, your neck, your torso, brushing against your breasts, and finally dipping down between your legs to your untouched core. “This is the last part of the ritual, and you will finally be one of the Collective. Do not fear, we will not hurt you.”

“I don’t fear,” you hum, eyelids fluttering as his fingers trace your folds and press against your clit.

“Good.”

It’s the last thing Hongjoong says before his fingers press into your waiting hole and you sigh through your nose, hips canting up at the pleasure finally searing through your bones. His fingers curl up, twisting as they pump in and out of you, bringing you slowly to the edge. The slick sounds of your cunt echo through the hall, your moans stilted.

Your teeth sink into the flesh of Hongjoong’s thigh, sure to leave marks despite the robe covering. The only reaction he provides is a delighted giggle, his fingers pistoning even faster into you, his other hand coming over to thumb at your clit, causing you to practically scream into his thigh. The pleasure is building at a much faster rate, and before you know it, your thighs clench and your pussy practically swallows Hongjoong’s fingers.

“Come for me, darling, and you will join us and live forever young,” Hongjoong whispers into your ear, and your back arches, his fingers pressing impossibly deeper into you until your thighs still and your breathing evens out. You can’t help the shudders racking through your body every so often, but Hongjoong’s fingers have stilled as he helps you ride through your high.

Once you finally come back down, Hongjoong withdraws his fingers, moving them up to your mouth. “Clean them,” he commands, and with no hesitation, you lean forward, licking him clean until only your saliva remains.

Hongjoong huffs out a pleased laugh. “Sit here, okay? You’ll be cleaned and shown to your new rooms, okay?” When you nod, he snaps his fingers, pointing to one of the Inner Circle. When they step forward, he pats the stone beside you. “Yunho, you’ll clean them up. Make sure to do a…thorough job.”

Yunho nods, and Hongjoong slips out of the room, the rest of the Inner Circle following silently. The lone member pulls down his hood, revealing his sharp features and matching grin. “Just relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, bending down to come face to face with your throbbing pussy. “We’ll be done shortly.”

[milaisreading]

HIIII i love ur posts!!

Can i request a tired or mentally drained and at one point she breaks down on front of the bllk boys and all of them start panicking or trying to comfort her? 😭😅

I've been tired cuz exam season ( >:p ) "and i wanna cry but i physically can't ( idk why? ) and i want some comfort sooooo.... yeah!

if u dont wanna its cool :)

byeeee❤️❤️

Author: I FEEL U! I have been feeling soo drained and useless ever since my exams finished. Literally can't even relax during this small break I got:// Anyways, I hope u like this! Thanks for the request🩷

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

On any normal day (Y/n) didn't mind the chaos the boys caused her, after all they were under a lot of pressure, so she let them unwind while cleaning up after them. But today was not one of those days. Ever since the preparations for the next Blue Lock phase started she felt like they were more and more chaotic, while she was losing herself more and more in all of her work. The whole week was just a whole mess for her, from running errands for Anri and Ego, to breaking up fights between the teammates, she just felt like giving up. Right now, she was enjoying some quiet time in the lunch hall, just drinking some tea while fighting back sleep.

"This morning was so tiring...." She winced while grabbing her stomach. This morning, Rin accidentally kicked the football past the goal, which ended up hitting (Y/n) in the stomach. This caused a loud argument between the captain, Isagi and Barou. (Y/n) tried to stop them, but the fussing coming from Aryu and Hiori stopped her. She was annoyed that they didn't let her handle the issue, instead Kurona and Yukimiya ended up dragging her toward the infirmary.

Next thing that happened was an hour after the first incident. Karasu and Otoya were practicing with Bachira and Aryu, (Y/n) was as usually sitting and taking down the stats of the 4. Nothing unusual. Until Bachira decided to goof around with the football and yell at (Y/n) to watch him do some tricks. She admitted, they were impressive, and she commented on how great they are. Her comments along with the impressed look on her face caused the other three to start doing the same. The problem was that there were 4 of them and (Y/n) would have to look every 2 seconds at a different player, which did make her dizzy. Ego had noticed the commotion and yelled at all 5 of them to get back to training.

The 3rd incident happened barely an hour ago at lunch time. (Y/n) was sitting with Gagamaru, Isagi and Chigiri during the time, and while talking with the 3, she didn't notice an argument between Kunigami and Nagi unfolding. Everyone knew that (Y/n) barely ever ate her dessert, it had too much protein, so she would always left it to one of the players to eat. The dessert was pretty much the highlight of their day and the team agreed on whoever got the most points for the day, will get the sweet treat. This arrangement worked for 2 months, but today was the first time that two players were tied in points.

Kunigami and Nagi were both known to be level headed and somewhat apathetic towards everything, except when it comes to their manager and her attention,  that's when both are pretty much irrational.

"I think you seem to misunderstood me, Nagi. I am getting it today." Kunigami said, sending a tight smile towards the albino.

"And you seemed to have misunderstood me, Kunigami. But that pudding is mine."

"Calm down, you two." Niko rolled his eyes, still mad that he lost this time.

(Y/n), blissfully unaware of that whole agreement, noticed Gagamaru staring at her dessert. Knowing she won't eat it anyways, she decided to give it to him.

"Here. I won't eat. Hope you like strawberry flavor." She said, handing the surprised Gagamaru her food.

Chigiri and Isagi gasped silently. They shortly sent the flustered goalie jealous glares before looking at Kunigami and Nagi, who were staring degers at Gagamaru.

"A-are you sure?" The boy asked as (Y/n) nodded her head, smiling warmly at the boy.

"Of course-"

"Gagamaru, you traitor!" The two flinched and looked in surprise at Nagi.

"Ha?" (Y/n) panicked a little as she saw Kunigami and Nagi glaring at the duo.

"Keep it down, you two." Reo rolled his eyes, earning a nod from Tokimitsu.

"M-maybe we should let Gagamaru have-"

"Shut it, Tokimitsu!" Kunigami and Nagi yelled and then started arguing with Gagamaru. It eventually spread across the whole lunch room, and (Y/n) started twitching a little. Nobody was listening to her as she tried to calm it down. Was it the exhaustion or pure desperation to shut everyone up, but (Y/n) eventually started crying silently. Lost in her own thoughts while crying, she wasn't paying attention to what the rest were saying.

"I am the fastest. The dessert is mine!" Chigiri earned a show from Aryu at that.

"You forget I was in the top3 and I am the one with the better hair."

"Oh, shut up you peasants! You all are beneath me and (Y/n), therefore the pudding is mine."

"Says who? You, Barou? You do not have the charm to be anywhere near (Y/n)."

"Otoya, you cheated on your girlfriends. What makes you think you are worthy?" Yukimiya sighed.

"And what about you, Yukimiya? You are so plain, there is no way she will fall for you. Now me on the other hand-"

"Oh, shut up Karasu. Your charms are below Antarctica's temperatures." Niko groaned.

"I think the cutest one of us should get the pudding. So me-"

"Bachira, that would be me. I am also the ace, so that's just a bonus." Isagi smiled, earning a glare from Rin

"Pipe it down, you two can barely pick up a 2nd language." The captain added in.

"English is hard." The two protested.

"I think the richest one should have a say in the dessert." Reo smirked, earning louder protests.

Tokimitsu shivered a little in fright and looked over at (Y/n), freezing for a moment as he saw her crying.

"What's up, Tokimitsu?" Hiori wondered, one of the few who decided not to argue. Kurona looked over to where Tokimitsu was looking, and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw her crying too. He nudged Hiori.

"Look." Kurona said and the cyan-haired boy looked at (Y/n). He wasted no time and ran to her side, followed by Tokimitsu and Kurona.

"He-hey, don't take it to heart. They are stupid like that." Tokimitsu said as he patted the sobbing girl's back. Kurona and Hiori moved closer, both trying to calm her down, all three felt their hearts breaking as they watched her cry. The room grew slowly quiet too, as the rest looked at (Y/n) in concern and guilt.

"(Y/n)...." Chigiri gulped.

"It's just hard to keep up with you all. You keep arguing and destroying things at times... and it's just hard to keep up... I can usually take it, but I guess today isn't my day." A wave of guilt hit the team as they quickly scrambled for the right words. The last thing they wanted was for their (Y/n) to cry, or worse, contemplate on leaving them.

"Tokimitsu, go and take (Y/n) somewhere quiet to calm down. The rest of you stay here." Rin said, quickly getting unto his captain mode. The rest said nothing, deciding not to make things worse, and they watched with guilt and sadness as (Y/n) got dragged out by Tokimitsu.

"Alright, listen up." Rin spoke up, causing the rest to look at him.

"We need to pull our shit together, unless we want (Y/n) to leave and for some other manager to replace her. The team pretty much shuddered at the idea, there was no way someone will replace her!

"So, what's your idea, captain?" Barou wondered.

"I will tell you, but first... Reo, I need you to do some calls." The billionaire heir raised his eyebrow and slowly nodded his head.

And soo, that was what had happened. (Y/n) ended up crying for about 30 minutes as Tokimitsu stayed around, just in case. The boy was collected and calm, no sign of his previous fidgety demeanor. After she calmed down, she apologized to Tokimitsu for inconveniencing him, but the boy didn't mind.

"If you feel down again, don't be afraid to tell us. We will listen." The boy said with a smile, which calmed her down a lot.

After lunch, she went back to her normal duties, helping the other staff members and the team out. To her surprise, they didn't cause any ruckus, they were calm and friendly. Even Rin, Isagi and Barou stayed away from arguing with each other. Unbeknownst to her, whenever a staff member tried to scold her, Karasu, Aryu and Nagi would send them warning glares. They alone caused them to back off quickly. All in all, the day went pretty well, and (Y/n) felt a lot lighter now. She slowly walked into her bedroom, and stopped at the entrance as she noticed a box on her bed. Slowly walking towards it, she looked at the note on the box and slowly started reading it. (Y/n)'s eyes widened a little as she read it through, realizing that the team sent her this, and her heart melted at the apology they wrote out.

'They are chaotic... but I love them like that.' She smiled and slowly opened the box, only to find various treats that she could only buy outside of Blue Lock's facility, she even got a small (f/c) bear.

'They probably made Reo get this...' She chuckled and plopped on the bed, hugging the bear close to herself.

'I will make it up to them... maybe Teieri-san can help me get them some small gift next week.' She thought, slowly falling asleep.

[xoxo-sarah]

Brother's Best Friend

Part 2

↝a/n: idk how to feel about this one. Feedback is appreciated! :)

↝pairing: robin buckley x Harrington!reader

↝Warning: arguing, a school fight, homophobic douchebag who says gross stuff, party, alcohol, pinning, kissing, not proofread

↝⎙ 6.15.23

She hated you. She hated how you dressed, how you acted, how you talked, how you smiled, how you laughed, how you walked, how you fixed your hair. How you applied lip gloss on your plump, kissable lips. Most importantly, she hated how you were Steve's sister. You and Steve were complete opposites, always having something small to argue about no matter who's around. But having each other's backs when needed.

She could recall a day where you wore a pink skirt along with a scowl on your face as a girl from school had been talking crap about your brother. The other girl hadn't been popular, but a shit talking bitch nonetheless, just listening to everything and gossiping when given the chance.

Robin had been at her locker when she heard everything, the caos and people talking about a fight as they ran down the hall. She followed the two younger highschoolers, coming around a corner to see you, ears a fire-y red and knuckles a ghost white as your nails dug into your palms. The other girl kept blabbering about the next bimbo to be in your brothers bed, which set you off. A small, humorless laugh had the cocky grin fall smooth off her face. Robin wasn't close enough to hear what you said before the girl had swung, hitting you but hurting herself more with how she had her fist, most likely jamming her thumb. A gasp echoed in Robin's head, watching as you only swung once, enough to say it was self defense- when in reality it just felt good to shut the girl up for a little bit.

She had just watched as the principal walked both of you down the hall, scolding you.

She hated how you made her promise not to tell Steve that you got suspended. "You can't tell Steve."

"And why not? You punched her!"

"For good reason!" You had countered, pleading her with your eyes. "Please, Robin." That might have been the first time you have been nice to her. There was always some snippy comments being spat at her when she was around, making Steve take up for his friend. "I'll do anything; He can't know."

So she kept your secret. You kept getting ready for school in the mornings, leaving with a small something for breakfast, and bidding Steve goodbye. She didn't know where you went after you left, or where you could spend 7 hours where Steve wouldn't catch you. But her mouth stayed shut. She honestly surprised herself, keeping a secret- especially from her best friend.

On a random Friday you had worn a blue skirt, accidentally matching Robin's blue shirt. Steve had pointed it out, laughing it off as you got a snack. Robin noticed the small smirk on your face ever since you came out of your room. She also noticed how it grew as you asked Robin to walk with you to school, since you were both going, of course.

"You're not going to murder her, right?" Steve joked, although seeming a little concerned. A little out of the ordinary.

Rolling your eyes, you slapped him upside the head. "I can't walk with a friend?"

"Yeah, but I didn't think Robin was a friend..."

"We're friends- right, Robin?" With a scoff, you turned to her, waiting for her to reply.

Slowly nodding, she couldn't help but notice the difference lip gloss you wore. Had you been wearing that one all week and she hadn't noticed? She had been over every morning to talk to Steve before school. No, she would have noticed. Why was she so worried about it?!

She stood up ubruptly, bidding goodbye to Steve before hauling herself through the house. She heard you running behind her. "Wait up!" Even now, she hated how she could smell your perfume when you finally caught up, walking beside her. "Thanks for not telling him."

Opting not to respond, she continued to walk, finding her shoes interesting.

"Sorry I've been rude to you in the past, I've just never been able to talk to people and the first time I met you I thought you were just one of his flings but then you stayed and I didn't really know how to feel and you were just so-"

For once it wasn't Robin rambling, she finally understood what her mother was talking about when she'd ramble on for what felt like hours. "Hey, Breathe."

"Sorry."

"I was so what?" Robin stopped walking, turning to you.

She noticed the small blush on your cheeks and ears, yet another pretty pink shade on you.

"What?"

"You said I 'was so'...what were you going to say?"

"Pretty. You were- are so pretty. Sorry." Any sign of the Harrington smirk and confidence was gone. You looked like a whole different person in front of her. Robin couldn't believe it.

"How can you go from a spoiled brat to a shy little thing?" She didn't notice how her voice darkened, usually not talking to you like this. But you had.

"What?" Your eyes widened, jaw droppimg before you glanced around.

Robin felt like she hadn't been in control of her body when those words slipped out. Sure, she had thought them but she didn't want to actually say them! "I didn't- that wasn't supposed to be said outloud. I didn't- I don't." Turning back around, she started walking again. "How about I accept your apology for being mean to me before and you forget about what I just said, deal?"

She could see your stupid grin from beside her, "deal."

"Give it back!" She hated how you would take things and run away with them, giggling as you did so. Like now, you took her sandwich and ran away through Family Video, giggling like a maniac. "C'mon, that was the last of the bread!"

"I'll give it back for a kiss." She hated how your words made her cheeks flush. You've joked about kissing her before, along with all your friends. But it was different for her. She didn't even know if you know about her being lesbian. Steve wasn't one to go around telling everyone her business so she doubted it. When she didn't reply, you slowly made your way back, handing her the sandwich back. "I was kidding."

"Yeah, yeah." She reached for her sandwich, putting it back in the ziplock, not feeling hungry anymore.

You noticed, of course you did. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"No." Your hand was suddenly on her arm, stopping her from moving. Your touch was like fire to her skin, despite how soft your skin was and how you've been whining about how cold it was recently. "What is going on with you lately?"

She opened her mouth to squash whatever you were thinking was wrong with her, but Steve came back from the back room, done with the new stock. "Y/n? I thought you were busy today."

When it hit you, Robin saw it in your face. Your hand fell from her arm, in search of your purse. "Oh shit! I gotta go-" Her eyes never left you as you stepped towards the door. "Robin, we gotta hang out sometime." Her eyebrows were practically over her head, like a surprised cartoon. Her brain felt as if she had forgotten how to talk, or even what word were.

She couldn't do that. She would not be in a room by yourselves ever again. "Date?" It slipped past Robin's lips before her brain fully went back from the frizzy state.

Steve gave a glance to his friend, not quite sure what had changed between you two- going from hating each other to wanting to hang out. He didn't question it. Not having to hear you take jabs at each other was heaven. "Maybe."

Robin heard your voice as soon as she entered the room, causing her feet to turn and try to quickly get out of the room and maybe even the country. "Buckley!"

Shit. Robin cursed herself, shutting her eyes as you giggled, making your way to her. She knew the party was a bad idea. She had been bored all day, with Steve having work and it being her off day, plus a Saturday. When she had heard some kids from school talking about a party, she didn't really think about who would be there. She now regretted that.

"Robin." She turned, seeing your smiling face, noticing your eyes creasing from how big you were grinning.

"Y/n." She acknowledged you. Your face fell a little when her face was straight, not sign of any emotion.

"I wouldn't expect to see you here."

Not knowing why that hit a nerve, she couldn't help to feel hurt. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! Uh," your smile fully fell, looking away from her. "Wanna come meet my friends?"

She had followed you through the house, weed and alcohol reeking through the room. Her eyes were set on your back, how the shirt tucked into the back of a pretty little white skirt. She wondered if that was all you had in your closet- it's not like she was complaining. More laughter echoed the little corner where a few people Robin had seen you hang around were sitting.

She stayed by your side most of the night, watching people around and you. She was never one for drinking, you however, wanted the buzz. You were even more giggly. Robin didn't know if she could handle it much longer.

"She just hasn't had this guy yet- I can't turn her back straight." Her eyes shot up to one of the guys who had interrupted your introduction to introduce himself. She could tell he had had way too much to drink, alcohol practically replaced the blood in his veins.

Her eyes followed where he and a few other people were looking and laughing. A girl who was openly lesbian was talking with her friends, laughing and enjoying the party, unknown of the cruel words being said.

The laughing pissed Robin off. Who did he think he was to say that? She couldn't believe you were friends with this guy. She half expecting you to laugh too, any second now. But as she turned slightly to look at you, you looked almost uncomfortable. "Mark, don't say stuff like that." The guy stopped laughing, his eyes traveling your body.

"What, Harrington?" He sat up, dragging his hand down his front to land on his crotch. Robin's nose crinkled in disgust. "You know what I can do to a woman." Your whole face broke out in disgust, almost as if all the alcohol would come up any second. "I'd have her straight as a board in no time."

As you stood up ubruptly, Robin's hands went out to catch you as you wobbled. "You're disgusting." You slurred, turning to walk away.

Robin was up and following you in a second, feeling as if getting away from that group was a breath of fresh air.

When the real fresh air hit her, she noticed you leaning against a tree in the front yard. She was quick to walk over. "Hey- you alright?"

"Yeah. He just makes me feel sick to my stomach."

"That might be the 10 gallons of alcohol you consumed." She joked, chuckling at herself, trying to lighten the situation.

"We should just leave." You got off the tree, wobbling on the sidewalk, towards your house. You didn't expect to feel her following you, thinking she would walk the other way, towards her own house. "What are you doing?"

"Walking you home." Her hands were in her pockets, the wind blowing her hair behind her.

"You don't have to."

"You shouldn't be walking home alone and drunk in the dark."

You didn't reply all the way back to your house. She walked you into the house, grabbing you a glass of water. The door opened with a push of her shoulder against it. "Here." She looked up, eyes growing wide with the lack of clothing you have. Her head shot to your door, closing it incase Steve came out of his room. Her eyes stayed on the ground as she quickly walked over to your dresser, almost slamming the glass down.

"Robin?" She hated how sweet your voice was. It almost didn't sound like you.

No one should ever sound that sweet, it's dangerous. "Ye-yeah?"

"Can you help me?" Her eyes looked up, going straight to your own, not daring to even look at your exposed collar bone.

"What?" Surely you didn't need help just throwing some clothes on.

Yet, you shamelessly stood in your underwear and bra, looking at her. "I can't undo my bra." You turned, your back exposed to her. She felt the air get stuck in her throat.

"Can't you just get in bed?"

"It pokes me." You whined, your hands trying to reach back but failing to fully find the clasp. Robin stepped forward, her hands becoming sweating as they met the cloth, slowly unclasping the three little metel pieces. Even after she was done, she couldn't help how soft your skin looked; how she wanted to lean forward and kiss until her lips felt numb.

"Thank you." She didn't moved as your turned, a tired smile on your face- her eyes stayed looking straight into your own.

The space between you was little, neither of you moving, for different reasons though, Robin had realized. She stepped back, letting you climb into your bed.

"You shouldn't go to bed with makeup on." Her voice was a little over a whisper. She had heard your complaint about how bad it was for your skin and your sheet and pillowcase.

You groaned, throwing your hand over the covers. Before you could voice your distaste for anything but sleep, she was walking towards your vanity, getting the makeup remover and walking over to the bed. You looked up at her as she kneeled beside the bed, bringing the cotton to your face, gently rubbing the makeup off. Your eyes raked over her face as if you haven't seen it before.

"There." She closed the bottle, throwing the cotton into your trash bin, going to stand up. Your hands stopped her movement, making her look at you in question.

She hated how soft your eyes looked up at her. "Thank you, Robin." Your fingers grazed her arm back and forth, an unknown pattern being made. "You're the best."

"I know."

"You can't go home."

"Why?"

"Because you shouldn't be out this late, all by yourself." She sighed, enjoying the patterns being drawn on her skin.

"I'll be fine."

"No." She looked at you with question in her eyes at how stern you were. "You can stay here." You patted the spot beside you on the bed. She felt the air get caught in her throat again, and her ear turn pink. As if on cue, rain hit your window, running down the glass as if it was taunting Robin and her emotions.

You don't lay in the same bed with people you hate. But she couldn't help it. It was late, cold, and raining. And your voice and face were so soft in emotion. She couldn't help herself.

Her eyes were glued to the ceiling, listening to the rain outside and your breathing beside her.

After a few minutes of silence in the dark room, she felt movement in the bed, and heard the blanket wrinkle with your movement. Suddenly, she felt your eyes on her, causing her to turn her head.

You were on your side, still having the same look in your eyes, as if she was the first person you had ever laid your eyes on. "You're pretty."

"You need to go to sleep, y/n." She dismissed you, seeing the sleep take over, noticing under your eyes and how your eyes were glossed over in sleep.

"Can I have a goodnight kiss?" She stared at you, not seeing the normal joking smirk, yet she nervously chuckled. She stopped when you sat up, a frown on your face. "I'm serious."

"You're drunk."

"Not enough." She followed your movement, sitting up and ignoring how the sheet fell from your exposed chest. "When I say I want to kiss you, I mean it."

"What?" You rolled your eyes, your hand going to grab hers.

"I like you. A lot, actually."

"It's just the alcohol talking- lay back down."

"No!" She flinched at your outburst. "I like you. I actually do. I have for a while. That's why I was mean to you when Steve brought you over. He's always managed to bring such beautiful girls over and you were way out of his league, truly. I was jealous, I guess." You were almost shy under her gaze, fiddling with your own hands now, letting her have her own back. "I kept being mean so I didn't have to ignore you completely - god, that would've killed me, Robin. I wasn't sure what to do- I certainly couldn't just go up to you and tell you I liked you. I wasn't sure, ya know? But when I saw the way you used to look at Vicky- I knew. I think I also brought my jealously out on you for that- sorry about that. She's a beautiful girl, I get it. But you're my 'Vicky'. I adore you more then I could ever physically express. And I probably wouldn't have even said anything if it weren't for the liquid courage, honestly. But I'm still thinking like I normally do. I know this isn't a mistake, no matter what happens between us next. And I am now realizing I'm blabbering. Sorry."

When you looked up, you were surprised to see her grinning.

"You're adorable." It was your turn to blush. "Can I kiss you?" Her quiet, raspy voice would have you doing anything she could ever ask.

"Of course. It's not like I've asked you 200 times-" her lips met yours, softly moving against each other and not coming up for air until your lungs screamed. She pulled back, her hand grazing the side of your neck.

You could feel her breath fan against your face, her forehead against your own. She whispered against your lips before going back into a kiss, not getting enough of you. "You talk too much."

Maybe she doesn't hate you.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

[im-poltergeist]

Towers and Thorns (Fanfic vers)

tags: bodyguard!Ghost x royal!reader, older Ghost, first fic, might be crappy idk, multiple parts, might be nsfw down the line, english is not my first language so feel free to correct me. 🌻

Part 1 🌻 Part 2 🌻 Part 3

"Do you have to keep bending the rules", he asks from the doorway to your room. You scoff at the question.

"This is hardly bending the rules. The skirt is just above knee length", you answer, glaring at the balaclava clad man stood before you.

"Not sure I agree with that, your highness", his cold eyes scanning your figure. You groan and shove him out the door. Whats the matter with him anyway.

You walk over to your closet and stare at the skirts. Apparently the light blue one you had on was "inappropriate". You pick out a white, patterned one instead and hope that it is acceptable. You roll your eyes. The bodyguard you had before him, before Ghost, wouldn't have batted an eye at that skirt. But at the same time he was off fucking a maid in some linnen closet while Marshall ambushed you in that corridor and kissed you. The memory makes you shudder.

Marshall seems to think that he is entitled to you. Just because your parents didn't say an outright no when his parents talked about marriage, he's disgusting.

You tried to tell your father that you didn't want the kiss and that Marshall kissed you without your consent but he wouldn't have it. "Think about how this could reflect on your mother reputation. Sneaking off, kissing boys." That's what he had to say about the matter. Speaking about you as if you were a young, rebellious teenager. You are, in fact, an adult. You had been for a good while now. You had gone through your teen years without any major scandals. The same couldn't be said for your cousins.

You open the door and are faced with arms crossed over a broad chest clad by a black t-shirt, tight enough to reveal strong shoulders and muscular arms, and cold eyes staring down at you from the gap in his balaclava.

"Better", you ask, eyes narrowing.

"Much", he replies and steps aside.

Ghost opens the door to the dining hall for you and you nod a thank you to him. Your father is sat near the end of the table,, reading a newspaper and drinking coffee. He looks up as you enter.

"Good morning Dad. Good morning Gaz", you say to the dark-skinned man stood behind him.

"Important day today", your father replies, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Im aware", you sit down at the chair opposite his. You scoop a spoonful of scrambled eggs and another of bacon down on to your plate.

"Make sure to behave. We don't need the President or the American press to get the wrong impression", he reminds you for what feels like the hundredth time this week.

"I know", you acknowledge, eyes fixed on your plate. Fork moving the eggs around aimlessly.

"Good. We can't afford a scandal", your father adds and rises from his chair. Hand nudging your shoulder as he walks past you and out of the door. Gaz a few steps behind him. The door shuts with a dull thud. You drop your fork on to your plate with a clink and put your head in your hands. Why does he always always talk about you like you're an accident waiting to happen. You feel Ghosts eyes burning in to your back.

"You don't have to just stand there, you know. You can sit down", you turn your head to look at him. His brown eyes meeting yours before walking slowly over towards the chair next to yours. Pulling it out and turning it so that he faces you. He sits down. Arms crossed over his chest and one of his leggs resting on his knee. You pour some water in to your glass and do the same to his. Ghosts eyes still boring in to yours. You sigh.

"Whats the matter", you ask him. Something clearly occupying his mind.

"Do you have a drinking problem or something, your highness", he questions you.

"What? No", you shriek. How could he think such a thing.

"A guy just kissed me at the last event and my dad thinks Im going to go into a late teenage rebellion. Besides, you would have notised if I had a drinking problem by now", you continue shaking your head.

"Guess you're right", he replies. His voice having and unreadable tone. Your eyes move towards the grandfather clock at the other end of the room. It reads half past ten. Shit. You stand up and the chair almost tips behind you. Ghost rises, eyes darting around the room to find the source of your sudden move.

"Im gonna be late", You clarify and hurry out the door. Ghost a few steps behind you.

You make it to the front door with less than a minute to spare. Your parents are stood talking and turn around when you approach with quick steps. You come to a halt behind them. Smiling at your mother. She smiles back and turns towards the men beside the door. Gaz and Price are on either side of the door. Ready to follow their queens order. Your mother nods to them and the doors open. You face the light erupting from the gap and put on a smile that you hope looks natural. The forgotten breakfast on your plate makes itself reminded as your stomach churns. You feel Ghosts eyes burn into the back of your head and you step outside into the light.

[bella-rose29]

Happy New Year - Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: barely proof read (I vaguely looked over it once) and mentions of alcohol consumption

felt like writing this (it's totally not to sweeten you all up for when I post deck the halls part 5 tomorrow whaaat that would be ridiculous I would never do that... 👀)

Tag list (i think this is everyone but idk anything anymore): @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @light-23, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

"Right, we've got just over an hour before midnight and George has got the telly all set up for the fireworks display. Holly said she'd be here in about ten minutes and Kipps is coming with her, I'm not entirely sure where Lucy and Norrie are which I should probably be more concerned about, and I think that's everything. Is Flo coming do you know? Because I know George said she hadn't decided yet but-"

"Lockwood?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you sit down? You seem very stressed," Y/n said, smiling at him from behind her mug of tea while she sat in the kitchen, watching Lockwood pace around the table. It was definitely way past her normal bedtime, but Lockwood had seemed so excited about seeing the New Year in with them all that she couldn't exactly say no to him, especially not when he'd given her a small smile filled with hope that she would say yes to spending the evening with him.

That and they'd tested out the speakers earlier, and she would never have been able to sleep with the music as loud as it currently was.

"I am hosting, Y/n/n. I'm meant to be stressed; it's part of the job."

"Well," she started, getting out of her chair and wincing when her bones clicked. She picked up the mug that Lockwood had abandoned on the table and moved over to where he had stopped his pacing. "I think you're meant to drink your tea and have a biscuit. Then everything will be better, yeah?"

"Alright, if that's what the doctor orders," he smiled as he took the mug out of her hand, and she felt her heart stutter in her chest at the sight. She'd had a crush on Anthony Lockwood since she first met him a few years ago in a café, both him and his company and her Fittes team winding down after their jobs and grabbing a cup of tea before heading out into the cold again. Then she'd quit her job at Fittes because they stopped giving her work and she couldn't afford the rent, and she'd noticed an ad in the paper for agents to join the psychical agency Lockwood and Co, and she'd been met with the pretty boy from the café again. He'd welcomed her instantly, made her feel at home and gave her a place to live, and over the next couple of years her feelings only grew.

Now they were 18 years old, soon to be celebrating the New Year in 35 Portland Row together, and he was smiling at her like she was the sun.

"Don't tell George about the biscuits though, yeah?" he whispered, leaning in as though it were the sort of secret that could never be told. She nodded, snorting at his mock seriousness.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good. Can't have you on your own, can we?"

"I wouldn't be alone, Lockwood. I'd have Lucy, and Holly, and George." She frowned a little, considering something. "Although maybe not George if he's killed you. I don't really want to be friends with murderers to be honest." Lockwood let out a laugh, and Y/n couldn't help but grin back at him when his joy was so infectious.

"No, I don't suppose that would be very good, would it?" He chuckled to himself for a moment or so, sipping his tea and munching on a biscuit. "I'm not much looking forward to being the only one not getting a kiss at midnight though."

It surprised her that he'd brought up the topic, since Lockwood had never really shown much interest in that sort of thing before. "Kipps'll probably be on his own too, although I'm not sure you'll be able to convince him to give you a smooch. I'm not kissing anyone either, if that helps."

"I think I'd rather kiss George's underwear than Kipps. You're not even going to kiss Lucy? I thought you two said you would," he asked, attempting to sound disinterested in the whole subject.

"Yeah, well now that she's got Norrie here they're gonna kiss instead, so I'm on my own. And I would also rather kiss George's pants than Kipps."

"Ah."

"Hmm." They drank the remainder of their tea in silence, the music from the speakers that George had set up streaming in despite being muffled through the closed kitchen door. "You know, I haven't even had my first kiss yet."

Lockwood looked at her, surprise all over his face. "What about that guy you went on a date with?"

"What? When did I go on a date?" And why did Lockwood sound... jealous?

"A few weeks ago. Oh, what was his name? Dave? Derek?"

"Daniel?"

"Yes! Daniel, that's the one. I knew it started with a 'd'."

"Dan's not... we're not dating, Lockwood. That wasn't a date," she said, feeling increasingly flustered.

"So he just bought you flowers and took you to dinner... as a friend?" Lockwood was definitely jealous, and Y/n had to bite back a laugh at the idea. Something was nagging at her in the back of her mind, telling her that it was strange for him to be jealous and wouldn't that mean something? but she wasn't paying much attention to it.

"Well I told him it wasn't a date. And we didn't kiss so I don't see how it's relevant."

"Right." A momentary pause. "But still, how come you haven't kissed anyone before?"

"It's not by choice. I've just never... had the opportunity I guess. You've probably kissed loads of people, what with how many of them you charm every day." Lockwood shrugged.

"Not really. There was one girl a few months ago, but she kissed me after pinning me against a taxi so that I physically couldn't get away from her, so I'm not entirely sure that counts."

"... What?"

"Yeah. After that job for Mrs. Hastings, her daughter followed us out and shoved me against the taxi. I have no idea how she was that strong but I feared for my life."

"You're ridiculous," she muttered as she looked at his face, no hint of anything other than utter seriousness displayed on his features.

"Ah, there you two are!" George said, pushing open the door and talking slightly louder than normal due to the blaring music. "I was wondering where you'd got to! Come on, the others are all here now, and they managed to convince Flo to come along somehow."

Y/n put down her empty tea mug and picked up her plastic cup that had had Lucy's punch in it (although what was in the punch itself she had no idea), and headed into the living room with Lockwood close behind to get comfy for the celebrations.

~~~

"Five minutes everyone!" Lucy shouted. She had since emerged from wherever it was that she'd been hiding (she and Norrie had appeared in giggles and with blushes on their faces, so Y/n felt sure in her assumption of what they'd been up to) and was now handing around a large bottle of some sort of cocktail that she'd mixed earlier.

Y/n and Lockwood were curled up next to each other on the sofa, somehow fitting the both of them on there without falling off. Lockwood was partially sat up, leaning his back against the armrest and holding Y/n close to him by wrapping an arm around her waist.

"You alright, love?" Lockwood murmured into her ear, and she nodded sleepily. Despite the loud music and alcohol Y/n was feeling worn out from the late hour, and Lockwood's hand stroking through her hair wasn't helping to keep her awake.

"I'm alright. Jus' tired."

"Not long now. Four minutes I think."

"I still don't have anyone to kiss," she said, a frown appearing on her face. The alcohol had made her tipsy, and she pushed herself up to look at Lockwood. "Neither do you. Oh!" she exclaimed, thinking up a brilliant idea that was helped by the drinks in her system. "We should jus' kiss each other, then all of our problems will be solved!"

"I'm not sure about all, love," Lockwood chuckled, and Y/n's frown reappeared.

"So you don't want to kiss me?"

"I didn't say that," he replied, voice growing quiet. "I mean, if you're happy to then... you know. If you don't mind then I don't... we can kiss. If you want."

"I want. I'm not going to lie I've wanted to kiss you for years now. You're so prettyyyy and kind and funny and lovely." She had no control over her words, all of them flying out before she could properly stop and think, and then she was registering them and slapping her hand over her mouth while her face turned red. Lockwood was just staring at her, his mouth slightly open and his face flushed from the alcohol he had drunk, and she buried her head in his chest.

"Why are you hiding, love? You're pretty too, so I don't know why you're not letting me look at you." He was still stroking his fingers through her hair, and when she brought her head back up to smile softly at him he pulled her closer (although she hadn't thought that was possible).

"You're drunk, Lockwood."

"I'm not-sober. There's a difference. Besides, you're not-sober too," he wagged a finger at her with a smile. "Wait, what does me being not-sober have to do with you being pretty?"

"'Cause you don't know what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying, love." It was almost too much, the fondness in his eyes, and if she wasn't so captivated she would have looked away. "I've wanted to kiss you for years too, I was just never brave enough."

"Ten seconds!" Lucy yelled, and Y/n wondered just how long she'd been staring into Lockwood's eyes for time to pass so quickly.

"Nine!" the others gathered in the room started chanting, not noticing Lockwood and Y/n cuddled up on the sofa. "Eight! Seven! Six!" Lockwood pushed a strand of hair back behind Y/n's ear, his hand lingering at the side of her face and cupping her cheek. "Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year, Lockwood," she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

"Happy New Year, Y/n/n," he whispered back, pressing his mouth to hers.

[onepiece-asl-lover]

Idk if your requests are open if not respond to the Privately but So idk if you actually feel comfortable writing for Luffy I am looki for one piece x reader writers who have the requests open and came across you anyway I request takes place after the time skip where reading I ask Luffy if next year they can celebrate Ace with Luffy aka next year on the day of his death instead of feeling sad they want me make sure Luffy is happy so they will spend the entire day doing things would love like eating us favorite foods and doing things he would love

I'm totally fine writing this! I'll try the best of my abilities to write what you requested. If you dont like it I can make another. Also I'll make it a Luffyxreader thing

First ever ask!!!!

"Changing a tragic into comfort" Luffy x Fm!reader

You knew this day exact day your lover Luffy brother died. It had traumatized him so much that on the next year he sat in his room and barely ate, concerning you and the straw hats.

This year was the day that Ace died and when you woke up to hopefully to find Luffy next to you, you find him at your desk his hat covering his face and when you realized it he was asleep as you brought a blanket and tucked him gently.

Your head was clouded as you went onto deck watching over the railing the ocean. How couldn't you helped your lover the time he needed it the most. Were you just a bad lover and spouse.

You didn't keep track of time that Sanji called for dinner and Nami had to call you over. You could tell everyone was quiet today aswell. The death of the Fire Fist Ace and the traumatic Luffy had effect them as you guys all ate silently.

You step slowly as an idea clicked into your mind. Why don't you guys make him a small party a supporting comfort party with his favourite food items. It was the best idea you ever thought of till now as you spoke up from the quiet dinner hall.

"Please excuse me but I have an idea on how we can help Luffy." You said as you wiped your hands with a towel.

"Help Luffy?" Chopper asked as his little hands ate a loli Robin gave him.

"How can we help Luffy, we can't just being Ace back" Zoro said as he kept eating he wasn't wrong so Nami didn't hit him.

"I've heard of these things for people who have went through a traumatic event and losing sombody, it's called a..-" you tried to remember the title of this party.

"An offer party, where people who have gone through grieving often remember that it is the person who offered reassuring hope, the certainty that things will get better, who helped them make the gradual passage from pain to a renewed sense of life." Robin offered as you nooded.

Everyone seemed to listen up as you continued talking of a party and probably it might be f everyone in the crew. You know everyone in the crew as lost a loved one from a trainer to a father figure ect.

"I hope we could make a kind of party self care I believe where we get our favorite food, items, games, drinks ect and get comfort from each other."

"..." it was silent in the room it made you sweat thinking of their opinion and thoughts about this party thing.

"Y/n your idea is....SUUUUUUUPERRR" Franky says as he does his iconic pose."also can we have cola and bugers there too" he adds as you all laugh.

"And cottoncandy!" Chopper says as he jumps off Robin laps.

"The great captain Usopp declares he will want a grilled fish!"

"Yohohohoho! I would be delightful to have some curry aswell too!"

"I can pick Mikans from my garden!"

"I would enjoy sandwhiches"

"Onigiris"

"Mozuku seaweed"

"Guess I should get onto cooking then if I'll have to make all this food" Sanji chuckles a he goes to start cooking.

The dining room was as loud as it usually was which is more comforting then that dead silence a few minutes ago.

Nami ordered around for decorations. Zoro messed up. Usopp getting some of his fairytails books. Brook being out his guitar and getting it ready to place with. Franky using his robot skills and Jinbei helping Nami with decor. Chopper grabs some small royes he holds in his bag to show. Robin using her devil fruit to help around.

You smiled as you saw everyone getting ready as it remind you, you had to get Luffy as you trolled into his room.

"Luffy?" You said as you peeked your head through the door.

You see him staring at the window as you went next to him.

"Everything's alright?" You asked as you rubbed his head.

"..."

You sighed as you kept looking at him and brushing away fallen tears of his and plopped his strawhat back on.

"You know Ace wouldn't want you crying over him, he called you a crybaby when we were younger remember? He wound want you to accomplish your dreams to be the pirate king not let an incident stop you" you say as you rubbed his head.

You hear him sniffle as he wobbly answers.

"You’re ri-right I should keep going no m-mattered what. Fo-far Ace"

"Yes, yes for Ace" you said as you slowly hugged him.

".....now how about we head outside? I think everyone wants you back as a captain? A crew can’t be a crew without a captain."

"Okay." Luffy said as he stood up as you stood up aswell grabbing a handkerchief wiping his tears as you lead him outside.

When you lead him outside onto the deck you could see his face light up at the celebrations with tables of food decor and the crew "helping" eachother.

"Luffy!" Chopper squeaked as he ran towards Luffy.

"Hey your back!" Usopp ran towards Luffy as well.

More and more people in the crew went to Luffy talking to him, showing him items they hold dear or giving him food

You could see him smile wide as he went around talking with his crew.

Usopp had a crafting stand and some childhood fairytale books

Choper has some little toys that Robin joined playing with him.

Sanji showed some childhood snacks he would make for his mother.

Nami opened her garden to anyone who could pluck a tangerine which was rare.

Franky shad a show to show off his robot abilities and skill.

Brook played songs for the crew.

Jinbei played around like a father being dragged to every station.

Robin teached some of an old language she used to know.

Zoro slept.

And Luffy laughed as he sprung around and also ate half the food.

You let out a breath as you saw Luffy happy again and enjoying the time with the crew.Everyone seemed so happy and joyous even when something tragic happened that turned into something joyus, and comforting.

Luffy wrapped his rubber arms around you thanking you for helping him and also letting him have party that is for everyone on the crew.

You loved this crew so much you would shake the world for them to be happy.

You couldn't hope for a better crew than this.

Shoutout to petalpetal for being my first ask I hope I did this the way you wanted this I really enjoyed writing this very much!

[george-weasleys-girl]

Fred Weasley being a complete ass because idk why I like it, but I do.

Enemy Mine - Part 1

I knew when I started writing that this wouldn't be a oneshot (most likely a trilogy.) I received this and another Fred request back-to-back, and they just went together so seamlessly.

~•~

Fred Weasley.

Just the sound of his name was like fingernails on a chalkboard to Y/N's ears. Every time she heard it, her blood pressure would skyrocket. He was the most arrogant, self-absorbed, irritating person she'd ever met.

She hated him with every fiber of her being and planned to continue hating him until she took her last breath.

~•~

Surprisingly, though, it hadn't always been that way. Y/N had once liked the twins and had even saved them from Filch's wrath by pulling them into a vacant classroom where she was practicing for her Charms test.

For a brief time, it seemed like they might become friends, but that all changed at the end of their second year. While she and her friends were walking to the train to head home for the summer, someone behind them yelled, "Oi, Y/N! Catch!"

Y/N turned to find a snake hurtling through the air toward her. Before she could react, it hit her square on, getting tangled in her hair. She screamed, frantically trying to shake it off. Then, several seconds later, it disappeared in a puff of orange smoke, and Y/N realized it wasn't real at all, but one of Fred's stupid pranks. All the same, the whole affair left her shaken and humiliated.

When she'd finally calmed down enough to confront him, all she got was an eye roll and a condescending comeback. "It wasn't even real, Y/N, I don't know why you're so upset," he'd said. "Go away and play with your little dollies or something."

'Well,' Y/N thought. 'If that's the way it's gonna be.'

~•~

By the time the next school year rolled around, Y/N had washed her hands of the whole matter, including Fred himself. However, Fred had other ideas. He followed her around, making hissing noises and joking about her "silly reaction to a fake snake," and once or twice stuck a rubber snake in her face, laughing when she screamed.

"Weasley, if you stick that in my face one more time," she'd threatened. "I'm gonna shove it somewhere you'll always know where to find it."

"You'll have to take it from me first, scaredy cat," he teased, dangling the toy serpent in her face. Failing to stamp down her panic, Y/N turned and stomped down the hall before she embarrassed herself yet again.

~•~

Fred finally let up on the snake nonsense the year the Chamber of Secrets opened. In fact, Fred hardly bothered her at all. Y/N figured it was more for his little sister's sake than hers. Which was fine. She respected that. To say that Ginny went through some things that year was a gross understatement.

So, for while, Y/N thought maybe he'd finally grown up a little.

Nope.

Fred was back to his irritating self the next year, except he'd moved on from scaring and pranking her to verbal sparring.

"Hey, look, it's Little Miss Can't Be Wrong!"

"Sorry ginger, I'm busy right now. Can I ignore you later?"

"You couldn't ignore me if you tried."

"Weasley, I'll ignore you so hard you'll start to question your existence."

~

"Must be hard not being able to laugh, Y/N."

"Weasley, I do have a sense of humor, you know."

"I’ve never heard you laugh before."

"I’ve never heard you say anything funny."

~

"Why do you always paint me as the bad guy, Weasley?"

"I don't know, why does everyone paint me as the pretty one? We all have our thing."

~

"Am I going too far?"

"No, no, no, Weasley. You went too far about three years ago."

And so it went. Day after day. Month after month. The two of them tossing insults and jibes back and forth. Then, halfway through their fifth year, Y/N started dating Lucas Collins.

That's when everything changed.

~•~

Fred couldn't stand Y/N Y/L/N. She was a stuck-up, humorless, straight-A student. The antithesis of everything he stood for.

And yet, like a moth to a flame, he couldn't seem to stay away from her.

Sure, it was true he'd developed a little crush on Y/N in their second year after she pulled him and George into a vacant classroom to hide them from Filch. But, that had nothing to do with it.

No, not at all. Most definitely not.

Besides, that silly little crush vanished as soon as he realized she couldn't take a joke.

So why, if he disliked Y/N so much, did he want to punch Lucas Collins in his stupid face every time he saw him?

~•~

@princess-paramour @milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley

[eri-pl]

Yay! I remembered to pick the right blog to post to!

So, I was thinking about Annatar,

probably because of all the gifs and stuff, I wish you all happy watching, but I was thinking about Anntar in the book. Anyway. There's one angle that seems underexplored to me. Long post below cut, no ships except those burned at Losgar. Sorry if you had hopes. ;)

He's more or less openly claiming to be an emissary of the Valar. And he is approaching various Noldor. Especially Celebrimbor (the last* living descendant of Feanor) and Galadriel (iirc banned from returning after War of Wrath per special exception for being an unrepentant jerk? Or am I misremembering?)

\* However, Annatar approaching Maglor on the beach and getting blast away with just a few notes and flying a few miles and landing in mud, is a wonderful image to ponder. Yes, I know, Sauron + duels of song = bad… but Finrod relied on skill, not on infrasound + centuries of repressed rage. :)

Anyway, back to Celebrimbor.

Imagine: Your grandfather rebelled against the Valar, swore a blasphemous oath and died. Your father did the same, but with more mass murders in the meantime. The Valar have rejected your family long, long ago. And now someone comes, an emissary.

How anxious Celebrimbor must have been. A lot depends on what exactly happenned with Celebrimbor at the War of Wrath, what Eonwë told him (probably nothing, he's not a HR guy, he's a warrior, he wouldn't think it necessary to talk indyvidually to that one Noldo, and Celebrimbor was afraid to ask), was he allowed to return (I assume yes, because why not, but he was either too insecure or... idk, hoping to find his uncle?) and so on.

Or maybe it's like with Galadriel: he didn't return after the WoW and believes that now it's too late?

I'm sure Annatar comforts him. (No, you can't return just yet, you have an important task to do here). I'm sure he assures Celebrimbor that the Valar still remember Middle Earth and still remember him. Or… maybe not?

Maybe it's more half-truths? Maybe it's more along the lines of "technically i shouldn't be here, but I pity the Elves who stayed here, and you especially and I chose to help regardless". Maybe it's more of "You have a lot of baggage, and I do have some things that I'm not proud of, but if we work together to fix the world, we both can be forgiven". Maybe a part of Sauron even believes in this.

One way or another, the topic of Feanorian legacy must be an important thread here, and not only in the aspect of "my grandfather was a great craftsman" but also, maybe even moreso, "my grandfather rejected the Valar and Annatar still wants to work with me regardless of that".

Also, I am absolutely certain that, after he opened up more and trusted Annatar a bit more, Celebrimbor at one point asked (probably very indirectly, because that is a really hard question for him to ask), "Is my father in the Halls, or—"

And I suppose that whatever story Sauron came up with, this very well may have been one of the reasons why Celebrimbor did not fully trust him. This is a perfect conversation topic to notice someone lacks empathy and, well, goodness.

But anyway, I really wish someone wrote a fic with those conversations. Especially with Celebrimbor daring to ask about the fate of the Feanorians. And what the Everlasting Darkness even is.

But also about others who stayed in aman or died. About his mother, whoever she was. His grandmother Nerdanel. There would be a lot of questions for Sauron to avoid and slither around.

Or maybe it was somwhat the other way around?

Maybe Annatar, in his kindness of course, asked a lot about Curufin, about Feanor. (Of course not at the start of their relationship, but as they get to know each other better… I assume Celebrimbor did open up enough to talk that). About how Celebrimbor feels, of course, how he is coping and so on, all the emotionally inteligent, helpful questions... What the Darkness is, where did Feanor get this idea, how was he able to craft an Oath so strong, so binding, where to find that power he called upon— How does it feel to be compared to Feanor all the time, how would it feel to finally be equal to him in greatness (Annatar of course can make this happen).

Darkness that binds. Darkness that calls, that never forgets. That gathers and never lets go. Darkness that binds.

Or (hmmm, this is starting to blend into crack territory) at some point of his cooperation with Annatar, among talks of his father and his terrible fate, there came into Celebrimbor's mind a thought of freing him, of freeing all the family. After all, who could invent a way to get someone back from the Void Everlasting Darkness, if not the heir of the House of Feanor?

This… could be an interesting starting point for a fic.

[lewkwoodnco]

Heyy:) I just wanted to request a George x fem!reader one shot :P I totally understand if you don't want to write it or if you don't like the idea or anything but I was thinking a fic inspired by "wildest dreams" by Taylor? Just some silly teen romance vibes you know🤭 (and please no Angst or anything, I can't take that shit atm😔)

Wildest Dreams - George Karim x Reader

A/N: going to be taking a break from the requests in my inbox to work on my 12 days of fics series! (but will get back to them after im done heheh) I might have completely butchered this ask im so sorry BUT I made it as fluffy as I think it gets (w George at least), just had to do the 77 thing i have no self-restraint, also this poem is soso beautiful one of my absolute favesss but idk whats up with the formatting :(((, wc 3.3k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Subtle Bridges

Walking with me, you'd once pointed to the fragility and ingenuity of a spider's web. Subtle bridges, you said, On bridges some men hang. A warning that has stayed While I read history traced in blood and tears of men. I was caught in the end with a nest of books. They burned anyway, and now I bend to build an emperor's endless wall. Like a thread of longing the border runs in loops and bends, and along it we root the gravestones of nameless men. A king's metaphor, This is, history raised from ash and bone -- a symbol Of its vast futility, or of eternity. Which it is I do not know, But since leaving home some things have come clear. No one literally breaks from loss, not even here. And some ties won't give. I sometimes dream of you, and walking, in gardens where love and knowledge hang.

By Yvonne Koh

She was at the Kensel Green Cemetery with the rest of her team from Fittes, after being called down by DEPRAC because of a robbery. They had spread out over the building, looking for any sign of the missing relic or the culprit, when she heard a slow, grinding noise from inside the hall. She quietly crept in to the silhouette of a shadowy figure bent over the casket.

"Can I help you?"

The boy's head snapped up immediately, painfully slamming against the stone shelf behind him. She let out an involuntary gasp, briefly wincing at the hollow thunk.

"Didn't do it," he groaned, steadying himself against the wall. "...whatever it was that...someone did."

She squinted at him using the little light spilling in from the corridor. He couldn't have been more than a year or two older than her. Against her better judgement, she kept her voice down.

"This is a crime scene!" she hissed at him.

"I - what?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm not a thief, or a relic man. I promise."

Her eyes swept his scruffy appearance critically. "Why would I think that?"

"Ms L/N?"

She turned, momentarily speechless, barely registering the rustle of the boy stealing away into the darkness. She blinked against the brightness of Inspector Barnes' torch, glancing back to check that he really was gone.

"Everything alright?"

She paused for a moment longer, as if willing him to rematerialise in the corner he had been crouching in just a moment ago. Nothing. Her eyes narrowed. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.

"Must have been the wind."

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

George was staring out the kitchen window glumly, lazily stirring his mug of tea. The weather was as pleasant as it got, and Lockwood had roused them all at the crack of dawn for a breakfast picnic, to 'boost morale.' Of course, George should have known better than to hold his breath, especially when loud angry voices had started to shake him awake when he had been halfway through groggily packing their picnic basket. Now, he sipped his cold tea through thin lips, listening to the slow, steady footsteps approaching the kitchen and the wan face belonging to them.

"Let me guess. You and Lucy are no longer in the mood for a picnic?"

Lockwood sombrely shook his head. George sighed, picking up the picnic basket. Seemed like a shame to let his slaving away go to waste. And he was still very much in the mood for the strawberries and cream he had packed inside. Which is why George had been heading out for a solo breakfast picnic with enough food for three when he heard a foreign voice stop him.

"George Casper Karim."

He looked up from the doorknob in alarm. It was the girl from Kensel Green Cemetery. He hesitated, trying to gauge her expression.

"Ex-employee of Fittes Agency, fired after six months for insubordination, currently a researcher at Lockwood & Co."

"Brilliant. Astonishing, really, how you've repeated my own job history back to me."

She frowned. He relished the stab of satisfaction. He'd had a shitty morning and was likely going to have a shitty day, so really, having a go at someone was probably going to be the highlight.

"There's no need to be rude."

"I think I'd know where I've been the past couple of years, thanks very much. Forgive me for not being more impressed."

Still looking a little disgruntled, she pressed on, firmly clutching the waist-high gate. "I've got a bone to pick with you, if you don't mind."

He eyed her warily, and decided against approaching her any further. "You can pick it just fine from over there."

She looked mildly peeved, but he didn't trust her as far as he could throw her. After a few long, tense seconds, she relented, not that she was happy about it..

"So...you were right. You're no relic man."

That was quick. "Thank you. Have a nice day." He closed the distance between him and the gate in a few quick strides, pushing against it, but she pushed right back with a steely look in her eye.

"Don't know about the other bit, though."

He didn't like the look in her eye; the look of someone knowing something he didn't. His mouth went dry.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Might be more convincing if your associate hadn't mentioned a talking skull. Awfully difficult to contain a visitor without a ghost jar, wouldn't you say?"

He swore under his breath. "Fucking Lockwood can't keep his mouth shut."

"I don't expect DEPRAC takes kindly to thieves or hooligans-"

He let out a bark of laughter. "Hooligan? Me?"

"-or strange boys who break into places they shouldn't be-"

"You can't prove it was me."

"Wanna bet?"

A challenge. A dare. His mouth was already open to call her bluff when the self-satisfied smirk curling at the corner of her lip gave him pause. Lockwood wouldn't be much pleased if he gave DEPRAC another reason to steer the agency dangerously close towards closing. He wasn't like Lockwood or Lucy - he was careful, very careful. Too late George wished he had been a little more careful all those years ago in covering his tracks - but, to be fair, he had no reason to think anyone at Fittes would have been capable enough to put two and two together.

Until now.

"Look, why don't we...talk about this, like civilised people? I've got strawb - you like strawberries and cream, don't you?"

She sneered again. George was beginning to think that was just how her face looked.

"You want to bribe me with...strawberries...and cream?"

"It's not bribery. Just...a friendly chat. Agent to agent."

Which was how they ended up on a grassy hill at one of the meadows at the outskirts of London. He had never been there before, but Lockwood had remembered it as a prime spot for cosy family picnics.

"So what else do you know about me?"

She chewed a bite of scrambled eggs thoughtfully before responding.

"You're obsessed with the Problem. An obsession that made you an asset, initially."

She had heard that he was the one who had identified the visitor, Edmund Bickerstaff, but what she had had difficulty wrapping her head around was how he had managed to do it with only the vast yet imprecise volumes of the Archives at his disposal. Imagine what he could do with the carefully curated library at Fittes. She stared at him, trying to figure him out. There was a gentle breeze blowing and the slight movement made him look marginally more affable but not any more comprehensible. She let out the breath she was holding.

"You must have really screwed up for Fittes to have let you go."

He shrugged. "It was a long time coming. Fittes never really was the type of company I was interested in working at, and I was never the type of employee Fittes was interested in keeping."

"What about now? Have you ever considered leaving?"

"Why would I?"

"I've taken a glance at Lockwood & Co's financial records. You can't be making much, if anything at all."

"And go from being broke to being broke and homeless?"

"Homeless? What about your parents?"

"I visit them, occasionally, but they're a right piece of work. Last time I saw them was my grandmother's 77th birthday. I think there was a row but I can't be completely sure because I was a little, er, sloshed. The party ended, and I expect the champagne went flat, and my aunt was the last to leave. She was sitting on the floor with a merlot in her hand, and her voice was ringing through the halls. The curtains were burnt, my parents didn't talk to each other for a week, and one of my brothers had broken his hand. But I could never forget sitting in that empty dining hall, holding those sodden, scorched curtains, listening to her saying nothing lasts forever, nothing lasts forever."

The sunlight had a diffused quality to it, at least the little of it that managed to pour through the layer of clouds blocking the sky. The ashy light threw a powdery glow on George's face, and for a moment she felt as though she was in that dining hall with him, listening to those same laments. He glanced at her, and she felt a sudden, foreign uncertainty grip her heart.

"Now I feel really bad about lying."

His hand slipped, missing his mouth by a good couple of inches, nearly sending the contents of his glass down his shirt.

"Lie? What lie?"

"I kind of haven't, not really...actually spoken to any of your associates."

He chokes on his laughter, and when he throws his head back she wonders if she's ever seen anyone laugh as freely as him. It's a ridiculously enticing sight.

"Touché. Touché."

He looks at her in the eye, unabashed, with an unnaturally casual intensity. It almost feels impolite.

"So...yeah. Maybe I was suited to be a Fittes agent, once upon a time, but not anymore."

"That's a pity."

He looks at her weird, and she hastily changes the subject.

"Do you do this often?"

"What, taking strangers out for breakfast?"

"No. Bring a girl out here, feed her some strawberries and cream, maybe a Shakespearean sonnet or two..."

"I don't set much store in Shakespearean sonnets. I'm not...I'm not much of a poetry person."

There's something reserved in his face that makes her feel terrible for asking.

"I've really only read one worth remembering. Subtle bridges, you said, on bridges some men hang. Some ties won't give. I sometimes dream of you, and walking, in gardens where love and knowledge hang."

He bites into a strawberry, which stains his lips a bright red. She looks away a second too late.

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

After reluctantly agreeing to keep the matter of the stolen ghost jar between the two of them, she never expected to see him again. And yet, as fate would have it, they crossed paths again roughly a week later. She and one of her teammates had been assigned to a Church to handle a relatively weak Type Two, when she heard a scuffling sound from one of the rooms whose door was ajar. Her teammate froze, and she didn't feel much braver either. They approached the room cautiously, rapiers at the ready.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

"Y/N?"

The glare from their flashlights blindly darted over the room before it settled on the floor, illuminating a bleeding George looking the worse for wear, hissing at the harsh florescent light.. She visibly relaxed.

"Oh. You again."

Lockwood and Lucy exchanged a look.

"Do you two know each other?"

A silence followed. George looked to be at a loss of words and she, too, couldn't quite find the right answer.

"We've...met."

They helped George up while Lockwood smoothly explained the situation, and how they would never dream of intentionally From the derisive eye rolls of his remaining, uninjured associate, there was clearly more to their presence than he was letting on, but she wasn't paid nearly enough to go through the trouble of finding that out. Apparently, they had already dealt with the Type Two, so she filled out her report as vague as she dared to be, while they wandered out to flag down a cab.

George lingered behind briefly, dabbing at his nose experimentally while she put the finishing touches to her file.

"We can't keep meeting like this, you know."

"Like what?"

She shook her head, surprisingly having to bite back a smile. "You're incorrigible. If you keep sneaking around for much longer I'll have to report you one of these days."

He pulled his face into an exaggerated sulk and ducked as she tried to smack him with her case report.

"Alright, alright!"

True to his word, their less-than-ideal meetings came to an end. Instead, they continued to occasionally meet at that serene, refreshingly Edenic sloping hill. She'd return from a client meeting or from scoping out a location and the front desk would have a message waiting for her, from one vaguely snippy anonymous man. Sometimes he'd be waiting at the hill with snacks, which she'd ravenously dig into, though he was less generous on the biscuit front. He tells her about the happenings of 35 Portland Row and his research and bounces his latest theory on the origins of the Problem off of her. She tells him about her week, and the bothersome, inept people she works with, and on their joint cases he's snarky towards all the right people. It makes her feel special.

On one such evening, they were lazing on a picnic blanket, and a pleasantly warm breeze was toying with their hair. George was looking at the severe, fragile branches encroaching on the powdery blue sky through heavily-lidded eyes. She was absent-mindedly fiddling with his surprisingly soft fingers, distractedly breathing in the faint, antiseptic smell of ammonia that clung to his clothes. She was thinking about how sharp he was and how quickly he picked up on details on their joint cases. No matter how many times she saw him pick apart a case with a carefully perfected elegance, she felt like a part of her would forever be in awe of his beautifully intricate mind.

"Sometimes I feel like your talents are so wasted here. Imagine what you could do with access to all of Fittes' resources."

"i don't need Fittes's resources to be a good researcher."

She watches the yellow daffodils tossing their heads back just inches in front of them through her eyelashes.

"i know you don't. It can't hurt, is all I'm saying."

"Why do you care?"

She paused. Why did she care? She cared about him, sure, but it was no different from how she cared about her teammates, her friends, but with George...it somehow felt more personal. She sighs irritably, releasing the bubble of frustration lodged in her throat all week. She just wanted what was best for him. It takes her a minute to come up with her hesitant response.

"I...don't know. I don't care. But sometimes I can't help but wonder...what if this was what you needed to uncover the root of the Problem?"

He half-laughs, but stops short at the sight of her face as she lifts her head off his chest. "You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"Y/N...statistically speaking -"

"All I'm saying is the answer could very well be in the Fittes library and you might be the only one who'd know where to look."

She lies down again, and whispers to the trees rather than George.

"Just...something to think about."

As time went on, their relationship began to bleed into more public spheres. She dropped by Portland Row occasionally, and they even had tea at her apartment once. On this particular afternoon, they were in George's room at Portland Row. She was looking through the titles on his alarmingly tall bookcases while he was at his desk, copying some runes from a book while telling her about his latest experiment with the skull. Her eyes roved over the titles restlessly, unseeingly, in a futile attempt to distract herself from her upcoming assignment. She let George's voice wash over her, pleasingly varied in tone and comfortingly familiar, soothing the itch in her brain. After a moment or two, she realises he's stopped talking, and looks up to see him staring at her with a frown on his face.

"Er, sorry. Drifted off there for a while."

"I guessed."

He studies her with an inscrutable expression and she's been caught too off-guard to come up with anything other than the letter burning a hole in her desk.

"You alright?"

She sits on a chair next to his and rests her chin on her knee, feeling oddly wooden. After getting to know George, she had taken the comfort of being able to somewhat predict his mannerisms for granted, and the thought of heading into this blind made her nervous.

"My team's been assigned a case outside of London."

"Oh. When?"

"We leave this weekend."

He looks too stunned to ask the question weighing on both their minds.

"It's for a month."

"A month," he echoes distantly, as if not quite sure what to make of that piece of information. His face remains impassive and she waits for a reaction which never comes. "What about that celebratory dinner?"

"We leave after it."

"Oh."

For someone who usually always had so much to say about anything and everything, his current conversational skills were desperately wanting. Say something. Be affected, she begs internally. She needs to hear him say it. She needs the sickness in her chest to be real, to be founded.

"It'll be...different without you." The careful look on his face makes her feel like he's picking out her emotions from her face and engineering an optimal response. "I'll miss you."

It doesn't comfort her in the way she expected it would. Suddenly, she can't even bear to look at him.

"You don't have to."

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

Either George had decided that she needed some space or he was just as pissed as she was, because she didn't see one sign of him over the next few days. Good. She hardly noticed. The thousand times a day he crossed her mind were only out of relief, and nothing else. But as much as she pretended otherwise, by the time the celebratory dinner rolled around, his absence had taken a toll on her. She couldn't tell if she was hoping or dreading seeing him again.

She was on a balcony on the upper floor, looking miserably into the radiant foliage of the gardens below, where unfamiliar faces flitted with a lightness of heart she envied. Their shadows are tall and intertwine ceaselessly, making her dizzy. Her bags were packed, her ticket was waiting on her mantle, and all loose ends were tied up. Even her one chance at happiness for the rest of her life.

There's a rustle behind her and she turns to see George standing a considerable distance away from her. He's only marginally closer than the first time they met, properly, when he was standing outside their front door and she was pacing behind the garden gate. She wants to cry in relief. Instead, she finds it in her not to look away. Maybe it's the confusing lighting, but there's a soft edge to his face.

"I thought I saw you come up here."

She doesn't say anything; she's too happy to. And yet, a part of her is still deeply unhappy with the sight in front of her.

"Have you...tried the food?"

"...it's not as good as yours."

"You must be leaving soon."

"Tomorrow." The thought makes her want to rip her face off.

"You'll be back in a month."

She drummed her fingernails against the marble railing, carefully choosing her words.

"What if things change in a month?" What if, she wanted to say, you meet someone else who loves you better than I can?

"It's only a month."

"A whole month."

"I don't understand. Why are you so afraid?"

"Because - because you'd forget me. You'd forget me, and our memories would sink six feet under, and you'd move on and my heart would break and...you wouldn't care."

She's never felt this way about anyone before, and she doesn't know how to express how badly she needs him to stay.

"I don't want to go back to not knowing you, George."

The setting sun burns into her neck and all of a sudden, she feels unbearably hot. Her hair is plastered to her forehead and her hands feel clammy. Her face is flushed and she feels ridiculous in her dress. But he's here, and she's said it, so she lets herself dream, if only for a moment.q

"I think about you every day. One month, two months, three months...I'll wait."

TAGLIST: @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @mitskiswift99 @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

CW: Divorce, addiction

It was a Friday, October 13th to be exact. Daniel and I are getting a divorce today. After weeks, he finally signed the divorce papers. I was devastated. It was so hard for me to take this step. But I had to finish it, for my Baby and also for myself, to finally forget Daniel. We met near the city hall, where we had an appointment with a divorce-case officer and judge.

Once there, I saw Daniel coming towards me. I honestly didn’t want to divorce him. I loved him, still, so much. 😥But... that's just the way life is. 😞... He looked at me... I wanted to hug him but instead I just said sadly, hi. Daniel seemed absent for a moment, staring at my belly. 🩵👶

He had this... empty look. Not sad or angry, rather.... emotionless.

With my eyes lowered, I just stood there. I struggled to hold back my tears. Exactly a year ago we moved together. I was so happy with him and now this. 😞

Me: I'm so sorry. I never wanted this! And I still don’t want it. I wish we could just go home together.

Daniel: Same, but...let's not get into that now. Relax and think about your Baby.

Me: What?

Daniel: It's gonna be okay. Trust me.... C'mon, let’s get this over with.

Me: Yea,,...whatever you say. 😞

Um.... well! Daniel and I didn’t get divorced today. The judge asked us why we wanted to divorce? D.'s & my statements left some question marks with the judge, I think? We have to wait six months, before we get divorced.... Daniel said that my jealousy (Tina, Irma...) & insecurity were the biggest probs for him in our relationship.😠... However, the real reason for postponing our divorce was bcs Daniel inherited Dominick’s plot & house. (division of property) Although I refused any claim to Daniel’s property!!

Me: Did you really, seriously mean what you said to them?

Daniel: I answered all questions honestly.

Me: Why didn’t you just give the real reason for our divorce? You took off!!! I didn't know where you were!! And my Baby isn't yours. This fact is the reason for our divorce! You can't handle that I'm pregnant. Or that we are both addicts, which would have been a good reason why we can’t stay together! 🤦‍♀️

Daniel: The juge asked me WHY, I left! You got it?.... You and my borther, your secrets drove me crazy. That fucking shit about Tina. I was overwhelmed with my shit, our drugs you and your delusions. I kept trying to make you happy! I only loved you and I only wanted you. But you just didn’t believe me. Be honest, it wasn’t my fault, just yours!! You don’t know what you want! And you can’t make decisions! But I’m not like N.! I don’t want to tell you what to do or how to live your life. You are responsible for yourself! Finally get it, or just stay with your soccer player and let him control you.

Me: What kind of shit are you talking?? Nico doesn’t do any of this to me.

Daniel: I talked to him! He said, you won’t be the same after he’s done with you. He told me this to my face!! And btw, I can’t stand Alex calling you Lexi!! 😠

Me: You must have misunderstood N. He isn't like that! He was just upset, bcs I confessed what I wanted from you the other day. Besides, you’re jealous too!!! Anyway.... I-.. I just can’t stand it around you anymore. And I’m sorry I was so jealous. I loved you so much. I wanted to do anything for you. I was terrified to lose you. I’m sorry. Sorry I was such a freak to you. But I didn’t do anything wrong with your brother, D.!! There was NOTHING between Alex and me!! IDK how many times I’ve had to say this damn sentence. Finally get it!....

Me: It hurts so much and it just doesn’t stop.... I don’t want to love you anymore. I wish you’d never married me. 😢

Daniel: Damn, I-... I'm sorry. I still struggle with that... stress disorder. Either I feel nothing-... or I boil with rage.🤦‍♂️

Me: It's ok.. I'm leaving.... See you in 6 moths. And.. stay off drugs, just... take care, Daniel. 😢

Daniel: Wait!

Me: I gotta go. Sorry. Bye!.... 😭

Daniel: I-...... love you.

I just wanted to get away from there. Far away from.... him.💔 Not really, but.... agh, you know what I mean. And I’ll see Daniel again sooner than I thought. Right after delivery. It was about that annoying name change. D. and I were officially still married, but I didn't want to give my Son his surname. D. is not his Dad, but N. Such a mess!!

Previous/Next

[lohotine]

https://www.tumblr.com/shmolish/747107246608138240/i-got-an-ideafor-a-bit-of-feelings-i-thought?source=share

Same anon here aaaand can't help but think of an idea for a part 2 if you want!

Maybe Prune juice finds y/n's diary and learns about y/n's plight behind y/n's back....

Aaaaaaaaaaand maybe to turn this intoba bit of a hurt comfort...Prune juice later reveals to y/n...he loves them back and that they ARE enough.

(Got idea from reading a bunch of hurt to comfort....also bonus if you want to add this in but if not I understand: he reveals that the reason he wants to get famous and live lavishly....is so he could make sure he could spoil y/n with his love and the lavish life ne wants to live with them! He wants to make sure y/n feels adored and never has to worry about a thing ever again!)

AN: T3$+S 4R3 C0M1NG UP. W9RK1NG H4RD. 1 2WE4R.

(Idk why I typed that, lol.)

Prune Juice x Reader

Oneshot (2/2)

Warnings: Angst (mild)

-Good Enough-

"Okay, what's up with you?"

Prune Juice had just walked in front of your desk, crossing his arms with a glare present on his face.

You titled your head in confusion. "What do you mean?" You'd ask.

He sighed. "You're acting.. weird. Like you keep avoiding me and zoning out all of the time," he explained.

Oh, so he noticed. You're trying to stay out of his life and yet you still end up troubling him. How disappointing.

"I'm not avoiding you," you would say to him

"Yes you are. Now what's bothering you?"

The world is being cruel again. Why does it always have to give you hope like this? Making you think that he cares..

"Nothing." You get up from your seat and walk outside of the classroom.

You just need to get away from everyone. You just need to get away from him.

You just need to get away from these emotions.

You wander through the rather empty hallways of the school. The taps of your shoes echo throughout these winding halls, soon being one of the only things occupying your thoughts.

The only other thing being Prune Juice, of course.

You just can't seem to stop thinking about him.

"Ah, wait!" A voice called out to you.

It was Prune Juice.

He quickly caught up to you and grabbed your hand.

"Is this about what you wrote in your journal..?" He'd ask with a solemn face.

Your eyes would widen a bit. "H- how do you know about that?"

He snickered. "You left it on your desk." He held it out and handed it you, to which you quickly snatched away from him.

"Hasn't anyone taught you to not look through people's stuff?" You'd huff.

"Haha, I didn't need that dumb book to realize how you felt about me," Prune Juice said.

"Why do you think it's dumb?"

"Because of what you write in it. You don't actually think your not good enough for me, right?"

You'd avert your gaze from him. "Well.."

Prune Juice abruptly leaves a kiss on you cheek, causing a dusty pink to cover your face.

"If I didn't think you were good enough for me, I wouldn't be talking to you now," he told you, a soft smile appearing on his face.

"I thought you just wanted to become rich and didn't want anyone else to bother you-!" You'd say in surprise, not at all expecting this outcome.

Prune Juice sighed. "You really don't get it?"

You shook your head.

"I want to become rich for you. I want to live alone with you. That way, I can spoil you and you won't have a thing to worry about!" He patted you head, looking at you with a grin.

"Wait, so you... like me?" You'd ask, blush still covering your face.

"I thought it was obvious."

"Why didn't you say anything sooner if you knew how I felt?"

"Well, it was supposed to be this whole thing. I wanted it to be grand, and worth remembering! ...But I guess the little secret came out prematurely..." he smiled awkwardly.

You smiled back. "I'm so glad.."

Prune Juice would cup your face, looking at you with longing. "Don't worry about not being enough, okay? I'll always love you."

《☆》 Fin

[always-sleeepy-headd]

Some sort of emo Cross shit idk what

Summary:

The Bad Guys were never very accepting of people, Cross however, they straight up didn't like. The bullying goes on and Cross can barely take it, he uses knives and lighters to ground himself but... he goes to far.And passes out, only for Killer to find him.Aka, the story of how Cross became the gang's favorite emo.

Notes:

I'm not sure if I like this story or not, I got a little lazy at the end.

Also I'm romantically in love with Cross if you can't tell with how much torture I put him through

________

Cross wasn't happy.

Far from it actually.

Not that it mattered, he only lived to serve now.

Cross wasn't treated well either.

Not that it bothered him, he deserved it for all he's done.

Every member of The Bad Sanses treated him horribly, or well, mostly.

He has seen kindness through their eyes, mostly directed at someone other than him but on occasion he's seen it towards him.

Nightmare, he was someone that could stand Cross.

Killer seemed not to have an opinion on Cross, maybe that was due to his soul but it made Cross's life a little easier.

Nightmare had touched Cross before, it startled him and he jumped backwards, almost throwing up then and there. That was a time Cross got a look of sympathy - dare he say a look of understanding.

Killer has engaged in conversations with him - that Cross with admit were in fact mostly one way, but he's not to blame for being too scared to speak to someone that if you gave any information to will immediately relay it back to Nightmare, he'd rather just talk to Nightmare if that was how it was.

Dust doesn't speak to him, the best he'll get is a glare or a shove. (Last time Dust shoved him he almost went into panic mode because Dust brushed his stomach and that was one of the especially bad places to touch him, too... Intimate.)

Cross doesn't have an opinion on Dust other than that.

Horror is so nice... to everyone except him, he always feeds him though so he can't be too bad.

Cross has a bad relationship with food, he goes out of his way to hide it though.

Horror clearly wants Cross away, he doesn't know why but will respect it he supposes.

Cross spends his days in the training room or avoiding everyone the best he can in the libraries scattered across the manor, never hiding in the main one because Nightmare spends most of his time there.

He's read hundreds of random books since he's arrived here, it's funny because back in his AU he never had time to realize his passion for books and surprisingly - science.

He's taken to reading books about random scientific ideas trying to explain the unexplainable, it's beginning harder and harder not to add something to that heater to keep it from breaking always.

Cross hates it when the heater breaks.

He recently has been going around and just fixing things if nobody's around, he refuses to anywhere near that kitchen in fear of Horror though.

He has fixed that damn heater about eleven times in the past three weeks, Nightmare has caught onto it by now, he fixes it so quickly that no one usually even notices it's out.

Cross hates the cold, he always can tell when the heater turns off because of even the slightest temperature drop, he's extremely sensitive to it.

Cross isn't the type to complain though.

Not now, not ever.

Which brings us to today, and Cross's newest, but at the same time, oldest problem.

Self harm.

He, per his usual routine, was walking through the halls of Nightmare's manor in his usual defeated way, headed right to the training room to overexert himself some more when he felt the strong urge of pain call to him.

His arms felt a little too cold.

He stopped dead in his tracks as the screeching for a lighter to cross over his bones felt more and more welcoming and kind.

It was so loud that it drowned out even Chara, the demon.

He needed to burn it all.

He turned around, he wouldn't deal with them today, he needs to cut and burn it all out.

And that he does, Cross walks back to his room, the feeling of icy death crawling up his bones again, the heater must have broken.

He'll deal with it later.

When he finally gets to his door, the castle is freezing, a cold Autumn's day upon them. He pushes his door open, not caring for the loud thunk it created as it slammed onto the wall opposite.

He almost falls over at the gust of wind, but that might have been an overstatement.

He closes his door with a slow unsteady hand, collapsing onto the back of the door as it closes. It was so cold, so, so, cold.

He wanted to stab himself right then and there.

Cross crawls to his box of... special things, it consisted of lighters galore, god forbid one stopped working and he didn't have another one. He also had knives of all shapes and sizes, as well as some products for if he went too far and was worried of an infection.

Hydrogen Peroxide, cleaning wipes, the high end stuff that doctors would use, and several bandages and bandaids.

He slips his knife out, pulling up the sleeves of his only protection to the freezing cold outside, he gasps as a breeze hits his bare bone. Staring

at his arm and the many healing wounds and scars, he pressed the knife into it, a sigh of relief escaped his lips, he was so tired; so, so tired of the bullying.

He presses it firmer and drops - little prickles of blood, began to form around the blade.

Cross looks at it and scowls, it's sad he cannot think of a way to handle this that would have him sustain less physical wounds, but he is yet to find something that helps the itch as this does.

He's pathetic.

Disgusting.

And a waste of space.

His father taught him that at least, if anything at all.

Ah, his father, the reason he has this brat Chara whispering insults and the occasional concern, which has been happening quite a little too often for Cross's liking.

The man who abused him through closed doors and behind the prying eyes of society.

The scars on his body - his body not theirs. The scars on his pelvis, not some normal scar that he would've gotten from being in the royal guard.

Purposeful.

Horrible.

Like him, he supposed.

He adds another to the collection.

He wants to vandalize himself, what's the point in not if he's already broken? His father already destroyed what was left of his fragile ego.

Cross suddenly feels the strong urge to burn himself, maybe cauterize his wound, so he takes the lighter and burns.

Tears fell down his face from the pain, he felt perverted in a way, the pain hurt so strangely, so lovely.

Suddenly, he stands up and is immediately hit by an extreme wave of nausea and dizziness. He's freezing cold yet burning hot at the same time, he stumbles.

He falls.

His head hits the corner of his desk and it all turns black.

...

Nightmare wasn't stupid, he knew how the others were treating Cross, yet he felt he couldn't - or more shouldn't interfere. Nightmare was however unaware of Cross's self harm, Nightmare didn't know everything.

He didn't know the extent of the bullying, he didn't know the effect it had on Cross, he didn't even know that Cross was capable of doing the things he does to himself.

But he sure noticed when Cross didn't come down for dinner.

The dinner table was silent, Horror glancing at his empty seat occasionally, Dust glaring at his seat believing Cross was being selfish for wasting such food that Horror poured his intent into making. And Killer? Killer was playing with his food with his fork, per usual. Nightmare knew of Killer's strange way of punishing himself when he knew Nightmare was keeping a close eye on him. He couldn't hurt himself in secret, maybe he could hurt himself plainly out in the open.

"I hate to be the party pooper," Killer says, looking bored. "But our newbie isn't exactly where he's supposed to be right now."

"We noticed." Dust grumbles and Nightmare sighs.

"I suppose someone should check on him." Nightmare says, because surely, that thump earlier was Killer doing something stupid and not him.

"I'll go." Killer says quickly, it was an excuse from the table, and he was nicer to Cross than Dust and Horror.

Again, Nightmare sighs, simply waving Killer off, planning to deal with him later.

Killer skips out of the room, humming a tune that was almost a mix of 'Frosty The Snowman' and 'Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer.' It was that time of year for him already.

The walk through the halls to the living quarters was a long one, not that Killer minded, he liked walking in the halls, they always seemed to twist in a new way each time he walked through them, as long as he had been here for.

When he reached Cross's room, he leaned over and knocked thrice, a smile on his face and deep despair in his soul that he couldn't quite reach.

When Cross didn't even make a noise, the smile fell. He was certainly in his room because that's what Nightmare had said, hadn't he? Killer couldn't remember, but he was almost sure Cross was in there, and he had heard a thump earlier...

"Cross?" Killer yells for him, keeping a light and playful voice despite his confusion. "It's dinnertime!"

Still no noise came from his room.

"I'm going to come in there if you don't answer." Killer says, pressing his ear up against the door to see if he could hear anything at all. Killer sighs when there's no noise, "Fine, I'm coming in!"

He opens the usually locked door, and walks a few paces in before gasping. "Fuck! What the hell happened?!" He says, shock spreading over his face before he rushes to Cross's side. "Cross?!" He yells, shaking him, "Can you hear me?!"

Cross didn't respond and a sinking feeling set deep in Killer's soul, "Jesus, you better not die on us randomly..." He says, frantically looking around for something to stop the bleeding in his head before noticing the box.

"... What the hell is this..." He mumbled, looking through the lighters and knives - all sharpened. He grabs some of the bandages but gives up in untangling them in a second. Then he notices Cross's arms.

"Holy shit..."

...

Everyone at the table was sitting in silence, Dust and Horror were whispering to each other when Nightmare gasps.

"Nightmare...?" Horror mumbles in question.

"Killer is... in extreme distress." He says standing up quickly, "The situation may be more serious than we thought."

"What do you mean?" Dust says, standing up as well.

"I'm not sure," Nightmare sighs, "But Killer is really screwed up over something, I must make sure they're okay."

"We're coming with you." Dust says, Horror standing up next to him with a nod.

"Hurry." Nightmare says, and the three rush out of the room and through the halls to Cross's room.

When they got there they found the door wide open with Killer mumbling a low curse. "Killer?" NIghtmare says, a sense of urgency deep in his voice.

"Fuck- Nightmare get in here!" Killer says, with the same urgency.

Walking in the sight they saw startled them all, Cross was on the floor with a large head wound, his arms covered in blood and healing wounds that seemed to all be cauterized.

"Holy crap..." Dust mumbles and Horror looks on in horror. (Whoops)

"Shit." Nightmare says, before running over to Cross and checking him over. "He's... fine, well, not fine but this isn't fatal if we stop the bleeding now."

Nightmare sighs and picks Cross up bridal style, Cross, who's still out cold, flinches and instinctively leans away from his touch. Suddenly, it hits everyone how fragile Cross is.

He looks so small in Nightmare's grip so... traumatized. Like he went through stuff even they haven't.

Honestly that's what made Dust not like him so much, he had even worse things going on for himself than Dust did. That scared him.

Horror never liked Cross because of him not finishing his food, he thought he must be ungrateful.

"What happened when you got here Killer?" Nightmare asks, trying to keep his composure although he begins to pull Cross closer which provided Cross no comfort and only to start to shake gently.

"He was on the ground just as you found him..." Killer says, his voice betraying his worry, which Nightmare found strange because Killer mostly pulled slightly mean pranks on Cross.

Actually Nightmare found everyone's reaction strange, Horror and Dust seemed to have a resentment of Cross yet they look as if Cross is their close friend.

"I- I did find that there was a box... it had the stuff that Cross had been using to do- do that to himself." He continues.

"Stars..." I grumble, "How didn't I notice, I should have known." I say mostly to myself.

"I'm sure it was our fault." Dust says plainly, he sounded really upset with himself for some reason, maybe it was the fact he made someone else go through the same problem he himself suffers with, maybe it was Papyrus tormenting him about doing it, maybe he was comparing himself to one of the girls in "Mean Girls" that Killer made them all watch.

Cross had laughed several times during that movie, he only laughed at the parts that were supposed to be serious too. Killer looked very proud.

"..." Nightmare can't bring himself to respond, to reassure him of something he doesn't know true. "I.. couldn't tell you. I noticed the bullying but I was unaware of the extent of it that he would bring himself to do this."

Horror suddenly looks ashamed, "I... should have been more open..." He mumbles and Dust puts his hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry big guy we all should have." Dust says, wincing slightly.

They stay quiet as they bring Cross to the medical room, regret heavy in the air.

...

Slowly, Cross blinks his eyes open, he can't remember how he got in the medical room, he supposes he failed at something again like the stupid monster he is.

That was, until he realized his arms were patched up. "Shit." He mumbles, realizing he's probably going to get punished for not controlling himself and jeopardizing whatever plans Nightmare could have had for him for the day.

"Oh? Cross you're awake." Nightmare says, keeping out the urgency he felt when he spoke. "You had everyone worried."

"Somehow I doubt that." Cross says under his breath but Nightmare can hear him loud and clear.

"I would too if I didn't experience it." Nightmare says with a sigh, "They all looked super remorseful..."

...

To be completely honest Cross didn't expect what happened to happen after this. Everyone began to be so much kinder to him, he expected it to not last but holy shit.

Eventually, Nightmare pulled the truth out of him of what was happening, and more, of his father's abuse of the past and of his... eating problem. Which was relayed to Horror and then Horror was so incredibly nice to him he cried.

Luckily it was only Horror who saw, and gave him the biggest bear hug.

He didn't know that would send Cross into panic mode, the poor guy. Nightmare felt his emotions and whisked him off immediately, having not seen Cross like this before. That's when Cross told Nightmare of his past with his father.

And the start of Nightmare's overprotectiveness.

I suppose that's the story of how Cross became the gang's favorite, and the one they feel they have to protect despite Cross being stronger than most of them.

[ink4blotches]

Pavitr x reader angst please 🙏🙏

Everyone Loves Heroes(Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader)

I gotchu anon ;))

Got a little confused halfway with this one, so it's a bit confusing to read but bear with me because it's 1am and I'm running on Coca Cola and sour straws :D

Synopsis/Feels: Basically Y/N is this worlds Gwen Stacey, famous for a bit at the end because idk, imagine that press scene from ITSV when MJ was talking to the city after Blond Peter died, reader dies(obv), angst y ag but that's what they wanted, reader is a girl, yeah yeah you get it.

Word Ct.: 885

••••••••••

It was just a normal day. Fighting thugs, feeding stray dogs, eating vada pav, hanging out with the rare, the elusive, the literally famous, singer Y/N Singh, yknow. The norm for Spider-Man: India.

Everything was going normally. A little boring, but normally. Nobody was in a huge amount of danger, and Y/N had worn a lovely outfit, which showed she was in a good mood.

He wanted to spend the entire day with her, to not leave her side. But alas, his duties as Spider-Man prevented him from doing so.

He should've been more careful. He should've stopped and wondered why his Spidey-Sense had been going crazy all day.

But no, he made what seemed to be a tiny mistake leaving her alone.

5 hours later, he's saving a bus from falling off the bridge connecting two cities, after it unfortunately collapsed. Struggling and he can only balance one thing, since even Spider-Man can't balance a bus with one hand.

He thought everyone had gotten away. That everyone on the bridge was safe.

"Hey, look out!"

That's when his heart absolutely shattered. He'd recognize that voice from a billion miles away. It was Y/N Singh. HIS Y/N Singh.

And she was there.

He could barely keep the bus up as he tried desperately to get a look at where his love was.

"It's okay...here, I'll carry you." He watched helplessly, his arms aching from holding a bus up alone, and his eyes stinging from the wind blowing through his cracked lens.

As Y/N grabbed the kid's hand, she seemed to notice the same thing Pav did.

She didn't have enough time to carry that kid away.

So she turned, giving Pavitr a quick glance. And despite not knowing the Spider hero, she put her faith in him to save the kid.

And so, a split second before the bridge collapsed, Y/N Singh tossed the kid, then falling the the streets below.

And Pav was helpless to do anything.

•

•

•

•

Pavitr tapped one of the microphones once, then a second time, causing the feedback to ring throughout the ginormous speakers set up around town hall.

"Sorry- I've never done anything like this before. And I don't have anything prepared to say..." Pav trails off, glancing at all of the cameras and eyes on him.

Mumbattan had just lost it's most beloved singer, who was well known to be dating Pavitr Prabhakar. It was an absolute bomb dropped on the poor city.

So right now, they needed someone to tell them it was gonna be okay. That, with time, everything would go back to normal. And they would rely on her boyfriend to tell them that.

But alas, Pavitr had also lost a piece of himself. He wanted to go home and cry, maybe even beat himself up for failing to save her.

The only reason he's here is because Gayatri and Inspector Singh expressly asked him to be. So he took a big breath before just...speaking his mind.

"I'll be honest. Y/N and I have been dating for 4 years, as most of you know. And in those 4 years, I found myself more than I had in my entire life before I knew her. I was lucky to know her on such a personal level, and it's...hard. Knowing she's gone. At times she would go on tour for months, but I knew she'd be back. Now...she's gone. Forever." Pavitr paused, sniffing in to stop his nose from running.

"Y/N was an amazing person. She was an inspiration to many, a light in the darkness to some, a friend to all, as well as a daughter to Mr.Singh, and sister to Gayatri Singh. And, at the end of her life, she was a hero.."

Pav thought for a moment. He shouldn't say the next part, he really shouldn't.

But he did.

"But she was also my girlfriend. And I hate that the world took her away from me so soon. As much as it pains me to say it, I can't lie. I hate that she had to be the hero that saved that boy. We all love heroes, and we're all sad when they pass away. And that sadness passes in a few weeks for most. But to me, Gayatri, and Inspector Singh, we can't just turn off the channel and pretend it didn't happen."

Pav knew he should've just stopped there, and everyone else did too.

But in a way he was talking to Y/N as well, hoping that his message would get to her no matter where she was.

"In the end, everyone loves heroes. Until they're the people close to them. Then it's a completely different story."

Pav knew he was condescending himself. He knew he wasn't making any sense. He saw poor Gayatri burst into tears less than 10 feet away from him.

But he had to keep going.

"I just wish Y/N could've been selfish for once in her life. Prioritized herself over a kid she didn't even know so she could stay with me. But she couldn't. It wasn't like her."

Pav took a deep breath, leaning closer into the microphone for his final word.

"And that's what I loved about her."