#local student freaks out in the corner

[studentbyday]

i just counted... it's 15 days before my first chem final since high school... gaahhh

[ferigrievous]

ISSEI MATSUKAWA HCS ⋆˚࿔

has such a terrible poker face but still somehow wins every bluffing game 

second generation guatemalan. speaks spanish, but not very often because he’s embarrassed of his accent and mispronunciations

metalhead in my heart and soul

freak who puts on his vinyls/cds then plays them on spotify so that his airbuds is accurate

eats the crust first on pizza and if anyone asks about it he’ll act like they’re overreacting

the kind of guy who ties his shoelaces a little loose so he can just slip them on and off

fell asleep at a show once

sleeps like a corpse. completely still, on his back, arms either crossed or at his sides.

worked at the college radio station while he was there

100% sends voice memos instead of texts if he’s too lazy to type, but 9 times out of 10 wont pick up if that person calls him

his hands are fucking freezing alllll the time

enjoys the meal, hates the cooking process, and hates doing the dishes and cleaning up even more.

ends up doing all his cooking on sunday so that he just does one deep clean and never has to think about it until the next week

starts a project, hyperfocuses on it, then forgets about it for months

that mf you ask for venues to local shows

loves the rain, especially when its heavy enough to rattle the windows. will go to sleep right then and there once he hears it, but will refuse to turn on a youtube video of the same thing

has a surprisingly gentle touch, despite how rough and calloused his hands are

played in a local band when he was younger but he doesnt talk about it because he almost got arrested for climbing the poles/pipes in the venue

type of guy to know how to do everything but will never tell anyone until they ask

never takes notes, never studies, never does anything academic outside of classtime, but is somehow a straight A student

the only one in the workplace post timeskip who can handle funeral flowers without sneezing. he doesnt tell anyone they give him rashes, though.

has that ability to tell when hes going to rain just by sniffing the air

keeps a notebook full of thoughts and ideas to not forget. he forgets.

doesnt trust people who doesnt like animals

he considered going into animal welfare but opted out because he didnt want to have an animal dying on him. became a funeral service worker instead.

sits in the corner of a restaurant so he can see the whole room, but then will sit on the inside of the booth instead of the outside

probably has a sleeper build

loves movies with practical effects more than CGI, even if theyre ass

[t1ts-4-donaldson]

Bones and all Art Donaldson

NSFW: murder, blood, gore, sex

it had been 3 days since your last meal, and he was getting antsy unable to ignore the pain in his stomach or the growling of yours.

You always were too spineless to do the killing it’s not your fault you were new to this lifestyle, and he never holds it against you. Only positive thing about starving was your desperation. Sucking him off while he's driving, pulling him into gas station bathrooms to fuck you over the sink and grabbing the steering wheel forcing him to pull over and pummel his dick into you on the side of the road, you were relentless and he was exhausted. Art was blessed man though he never thought he'd meet someone as depraved as him

It's late at night when he spots her at the local amusement park stood next to the ferris wheel, cute thing was fresh faced out of high school all sunshine and excitement sometimes he felt bad for his victims most times he barely gave a damn too hungry to care.

He plays up his compliments as he flirts with her tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "you're beautiful you know, sweet as pie." He hides his sinister intentions behind a grin. She prattles on about her best friend, new puppy she got and shitty ex she has to deal with but he's fixated on her neck the expanse of her breasts, tits almost slipping out of her little dress, he wipes the drool off the corner of his lips when his eyes latch onto her throat, he could almost see the blood pulsing through her skin.

It pissed you off the way he was talking to her like he liked her, you knew the routine it was what he had to do but ripping her to pieces made the jealously subside.

So half an hour later you’re on him half naked completely bloody her limp body discarded next to his truck. Swapping spit as your hand leaves red handprints over his milky white chest body almost glowing in contrast.

“She tastes better than the other one” you moan against his open mouth.

“horny college students are always are the best.” He impatiently shimmies your shorts down your legs tearing your pink underwear in half with balled up fists

“they were my last pair” you glower at the unsalvageable pieces

“just use hers” he peers over wipes his hand over the bite he ripped out of her chest cavity lubricating his member with blood pumping it in his hand, he reaches out for more smearing your pussy with the rest

"So fucking tight" he moans as he stretches your cunt splitting you open. Your eyes clench shut at the abrasion "never get used to it." You wince hands digging into the dirt beneath him

he pecks your forehead as an apology before driving his cock into you at a brutal speed it's almost painful. He grabs your head and yanks it back watching your tits bounce leaning up and licking the slimy residue off your skin "I'm the luckiest guy in the world you know that?" He grunts "couldn't ever find a better fuck than you."

the sounds of his balls slapping against your soaked pussy radiate through the humid midnight air "so fucking close-" you whine tightening your walls around his dick

his fingers dig into your hips tearing the skin trying to stave off his orgasm "you're a fucking freak-" he slaps your ass "my favorite whore" he plants his feet on the ground pounding your swollen pussy as you cry out for more.

"Come in me" you drag your hands up tighten them around the column of his throat rolling your hips down his length. "Let me be yours." "Fucking, shit" he gasps eyes roll back as he circles your clit with his thumb helping you chase your high, a blinding rush of pleasure runs through your body your juices coat his pelvis and thighs he continues rubbing your clit harder spurts of clear release spew on his abs until you slap his hand away.

You're dizzy almost collapsing when you begin riding him again "you need to cum" you whimper pussy throbbing from your orgasm. He shakes his head "not if it hurts you"

you shove your fingers into his mouth shutting him up. Wincing in discomfort as you bounce on his cock until ropes of cum spill into your pussy loud moans rip through his chest hips bucking until he finishes

A minute passes both of you trying to breathe when Art cups your cheek blue eyes searching for any hesitation, he only finds love.

“You good?" he asks, you nod

“promise?” He mumbles tracing your bottom lip

“yes”you heave collapsing onto his frame saccharine red remains dried up on your skin.

He grips your jaw shoves your face back and pries your mouth open with his tongue then spits down your throat, you groan as thick glob tastes sickly sweet like ice cream or chocolate cake a little more rotten.

He hums your favorite song tracing smiley faces on your belly with your release smeared watery red you shift to straddle him glimpsing down between your connected cores satisfied at the pink spunk spilling out of you coating his pubes. He reaches down cups it in his fingers and drips it inside his open mouth

“tasty”

@rottenk1sses I hope I did it justice omg

[quokkaholic]

Locked In h.j

Warnings: Suggestive fluff, cussing duh, alcohol consumption, kissing and touching(tehe), claustrophobia maybe. Lightly edited

Synopsis: y/n is a student by day and flirty/sassy bartender by night. On a busy night, Han comes in and matches her freak. Han referred to as sexy man before y/n knows his name.  They may or may not get stuck in the fridge. 

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

It's going to be a rough night tonight. Even though the dive bar you work at is on the smaller, more local side, you get pretty busy on Thursday nights. Busy enough that you typically have two bartenders, but tonight your literal other half and best friend, Janie, got a call about her boyfriend having a family issue in the middle of her restocking the cooler. You know she doesn’t want to  leave you high and dry, but he needed her, and you aren’t soulless. You tell her to go to him; its already 1am, so you just have 3 more hours till close. It’s not like she hasn’t covered for you on many different occasions. She gives you a tight squeeze before grabbing her stuff and jogging out the door. While you’d like to sit and relish in the feeling of being the greatest friend of all time, you now have so much more shit to do. 

You’re so busy trying to catch up on dishes, you can’t check who walks in when the bell that hangs on the door rings. You shout to the front, that you’ll be right there as you grab the rag that's hanging through one of the belt loops on your jeans. 

As you speed walk to the front, you see the man that just came in is not a regular; you would remember if you had seen him before. He’s fucking stunning, and if you weren’t working, it would take some serious courage to go up and talk to him. Thankfully, you’ve been working on your bartender persona.

“Hey love, what can I get you?” you say to the patron as you lean over the bar to grab some empty bottles nearby.

“Oh hi baby. I uh…” he says as he squints at the torn and marked up beer and liquor list trying to read it under the dim neon lights.

“If you say “surprise me” it’ll be a bud light” you warn as you pour some pints for the couple at the other end of the bar. Sending you a playful glance over the paper, he slowly lowers it.

“Well what do you recommend?” He raises his voice just loud enough for you to hear him as you're running around doing little tasks but not loud enough to disrupt the others. 

“I go for a paloma, personally. Its fresh, and bubbly, and not too sweet, but I'm warning you, the grapefruit soda we keep is pretty sour.”

“That sounds lovely” he gives you a soft smile kinda relieved he didn’t have to make a decision. 

“I gotcha”

You pour some more shots for the group at the pool tables before mixing up the sexy man’s drink and pouring it into a sugar rimmed highball glass. 

“For you, my dear” you say as you hand him the finished drink. He grabs it with both hands allowing his fingers to graze yours; his touch is warm and tender and dreamy, nothing like the usual snatching of other customers. Before you walk away, you pour him a little bowl of snack mix.

“Hey y/n! Why is he getting so much attention” a crotchety old man and regular of yours shouts to you as you make your way to the back. 

“Come on. If you want snacks, use your words and ask next time, asshat” biting back, as you walk right past him. 

You are shuffling around clearing off tables, tabbing people out, and wiping up spills. It takes a minute before you realize sexy man has not made much progress with his drink. Going back to him, you try to figure out the cause,

“How does it taste, babe?” striking up a conversation again. He gives only an innocent and sorry look in response, you can't stop the corner of your mouth from raising to a smirk.

“I swear to god, if you say its too sour”

“I'm sorry miss y/n” he says after sucking a breath through his teeth. 

“You motherfucker” insulting him between laughs.

“I tried to warn you! I can add some simple syrup to it, but I think you’d rather have a beer, it’ll be on me”

Before sexy man can reject your offer, you reach into one of the beer ice chests, but are once again heckled by the wrinkly regular.

“Why does he get special treatment, huh? I’m supposed to be your favorite”

“I don't remember saying that” responding while opening the beer (idk but i feel like if han had to pick a beer found at your average US bar it would be modelo)

“You literally told me last week!” He’s probably right, you’ll say quite a lot to get a bigger tip.

“Well..” muttering as you wipe off the bottle. You lean to sexy man close enough so that when hold your hands up, it blocks both of your faces.

“What's your name, babe?” you whisper after you place the beer in front of him and he whispers his answer back to you.

“Han, is my favorite now. He's cuter, and nicer, and I bet he tips better too.” You and Han snicker together about it for a minute before you have to get back to running the damn bar.

You keep cleaning, and serving drinks, and running tabs; its nearing 2:30am before you can stop and talk to Han again.

“Han my sweet, you want some company?”

“That would be amazing, actually”

“So, what brings you here, at this hour I might add?”

“Honestly, jet lag. I just needed to get out of the hotel room, and I’ve been living the dream ever since. And you?” such a smooth talker, and he keeps eye contact with you the whole time. Not in an intimidating way but in the way where he is genuinely engrossed in your conversation, and it makes your heart pound. 

“I’m a student so working nights works best with my schedule”

“Oh, an educated woman! Sexy”

“Yeah it would be, if I could get a good job with my four year degree, but alas, I make more as a bartender than I did as a lab tech. So, here I am, grad student by day, bartender by night.”

“Sexy and driven” He mumbles against the mouth of his bottle before he tips it back to finish it off. You and Han chat consistently while you take care of the handful of other patrons. You try to get him another beer, but he declines. 

“You ready for the check, HANdsome? Sorry, that wasn’t good.” Its starting to get late in the night, and your charm is starting to wear off.

“No…uhh. What time do you get off?” Han seems to be infected by your shyness.

“Oh um. We close at 4, but i won’t leave until 5 or 5:30”

“Is it cool if I just wait till then? Maybe, I could take you to breakfast? I’m just not tired at all, and I…I’m really…”

“That would be amazing actually. I’d love to. Could I get you a soda at least?”

You and Han chat and get to know each other through the last call, and it's time to kick the last customers out. The grouchy regular is of course the last one out the door.

“Why does your new favorite get to stay?”

“Because I like him more than you. I already told you he's with me! If I hear one more word about this from you, I'll never serve you again. Now get the fuck out” you shout the last part locking the door being them. 

Even though you try to get him to stop, Han helps you with your closing duties, but because you were short staffed tonight and were kind of neglecting some duties to talk to Han, it takes a while. It's a little after 5 by the time you guys are getting ready to walk out the back door. You pull on your coats and grab your purse, and just as you guys are about to open the door it hits you, you didn't restock, Janie was doing that before she had to leave.

“Fuck, will you help me restock the fridge, it’ll take like 8 minutes if we work together.”

“Lead the way”

Han is handing you bottles and crushing boxes as you organize the shelves. You two make a great team and finish the task in record time, but when Han turns to exit he just stands at the door darting his eyes all over looking for a knob. 

“Here, let me”

You scooch around him, and reach up to the shelf where you keep the emergency “key” that opens the door from the inside, but it's not there. You feel around and nothing. You look around on all the surfaces, and it's nowhere to be seen. While walking past the fridge door, you see it out the corner of your eye, but to your dismay, you saw it out the window of the fridge door on the counter right outside. You slowly turn back to Han.

“Heeeeey. Bad news. We’re locked in”

“What?” Han's jaw might as well be on the floor.

“Yeah so there's the key” pointing out the window. Han indirectly squishes you against the door and places his cheek on yours in order to see what you see.

“Fuck” he breathes out. 

“That's what I’m saying. We’ve got options, we left our phones by the door so we can’t call for help, but we could 1) cause hundreds of dollars in damage and break out and I probably lose my job or 2), which I am leaning towards, another bartender will be here at like 7 for opening stuff and we just chill here for an hour and a half”

“Well… I guess we have plenty to keep us busy” he says gesturing to the surrounding alcohol with a smirk.

“Alcohol actually speeds up the effects of hypothermia” his playful smile drops at your words

“I'm kidding! I mean not really; that is true, but we'll be fine! Here, have a drink” you open a beer and hand it to him. 

Even though you and Han have already been talking for hours, the conversion is never ending. Topics flowing seamlessly into one after another and you guys snack on the drink accoutrements like cherries and such. You have your winter coats on, so the cold is bearable, but you’ve scooted inch by inch close between his legs but facing him with your legs bent over his. You take turns back and forth spraying the whipped cream you have for some of the more elaborate shots available into eachothers mouths. He fills your mouth a bit too much and when you try to close your lips, some spills out onto your chin. Han immediately apologizes and uses his thumb to wipe it off, but his hand lingers on your cheek, and his eyes bounce between your lips and eyes.

Not a second later your lips are smashed together and he is wrapping his arms around to clasp his hand behind your back and pull you into him. His lips are soft and plump and sweet from residual cream. The kisses are slow and passionate. There's tongue but not down your throat, just gentle gliding over lips and dipping in just slightly to get a taste. Things start to heat up when he withdraws slightly to lick over the area that he had wiped, instead of stopping there he licks along your jaw and pushes your hair back to kiss over and behind your ear. Once he pulls away with his head still tilted, you have the opportunity to access his neck leaving wet kisses down to where his shoulder and neck connect. He moans softly as his hands fall down to grip your ass hard. This kiss is truly more intoxicating than any drink, and you recognize that as his noises have a warmth building in your core. You’re loving every seconds, but this is risky enough, the last thing you need if for your coworker to find you fucking a stranger in the walk in. You start to slow down a little and Han immediately follows your lead. To be silly and try to help the sexual tension dissipate you feel Han reaching towards his head and then yours. He pulls your hoods up over your heads and is holding them shut to create a kiss cave forcing the passionate kiss to halt due to your grins and giggles.

Soon the bartender arrives and thankfully the staff is pretty close and all really cool so you don't have to explain much, at least not right now. You guys grab your things, and scamper outside. 

“I guess we don’t need breakfast anymore” Han chuckles to himself.

“I could go for coffee”

“Coffee? I could go for a nap! Don’t you need sleep?”

“Sleep? Baby, I have class.” His eyes widen in shock as he reaches out his hand for your phone.

“You’re insane. I have to see you again, but only after you get some rest.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

A.n- VERY lightly inspired by the anime How I Attended an All Guys Mixer (get into it). Thank you for reading

-mo♥️

Masterlist

[thereweredragonshere]

what headcanons do you have for the riders in a modern au?

Sorry if some of these are a little basic lmao I don't think about modern aus all that much.

They all live in Britain. Sue me. I want some dragons over this side of the atlantic.

Hiccup -

Does digital art

Plays minecraft religiously and can do red stone better than he can do maths

has failed exams due to his pretty much illegible hand writing despite answers being mostly correct

Listens to exclusively 80s/90s music

Lives in a flat above a pub that his dad owns called 'Berk' aka 'Berk's bar' (Which is a whole au that i have and is where i got the name for my discord server from lmao. But these headcanons aren't all specifically from that au. Just general ones.)

Gets bullied quite bad at school. He's taken days off because of it before.

Class presentations are his worst nightmare. Can never get his words out during them and gets very freaked out.

Astrid -

Plays Rugby, Football, does boxing, really name any contact sport and she's probably tried it at some point. Her favourite lesson is P.E. (Physical education/gym class) and she will riot if it gets cancelled for some reason.

'Difficult' student. She struggles with anger management and schools are shit at helping kids with that, so she gets labelled as a problem child cuz she always chats back and gets sent out of classrooms.

Despite being a 'problem' child, she still gets all the shit that needs doing done.

Never shows up to school assemblies. She usually just goes and finds a staircase to sit on.

Divorced parents. She bounces between houses quite a lot.

Spends most of her free time at the gym. Buffstrid canon in modern times too people!!

Snotlout -

Got massively bullied in year 7 and like half way through year 8 he switched the fuck up and became a fucking menace. Bro was NOT playing.

Rides horses. Hookfang is a horse.

Is lowkey fucking amazing at maths but he's scared to put effort into it cuz he thinks he'll get made fun of.

When him and Astrid become friends they actually bond over being the 'problem' kids. Though Astrid is a bit more than Snotlout.

Constantly in corner shops. He loves buying overpriced american sweets.

Fishlegs -

Actually very rarely gets bullied cuz no one knows who the fuck he is (Until the gang all become friends, then people DEFINIATELY know who they all are.)

Loves the three sciences. Even physics. He actively enjoys doing physics.

Kinda not really a teacher's pet. He won't tell on you but he certainly won't partake in whatever it is you're doing on your phone in the middle of a very important english lesson.

Loves shakepeare.

Him and Snotlout (When the gang all become friends) set up one of those stupid cliche 'pay me and I'll do your homework' things in the boys toilets at school. Snotlout did the discreate advertising and Fishlegs did the homework. They split profits 50/50 and they both found it so funny that it actually worked. And then they got busted by the head teacher and that's the first time fishlegs ever got detention.

Ruffnut -

Local school fact file. She can tell you every single detail about the place. Wanna know when that one piece of gum you just accidentally touched was stuck to the table? She'll fucking know.

Giver her £10 and she will eat literally anything.

Actually CAN'T get bullied cuz she just doesn't give a fuck

Very good at english/languages

Has never done homework a day in her life. Never will.

Brings random live animals into school every now and again. Much to the genuine delight of Hiccup.

Drives her parents' car somewhat regularly, despite not being old enough and not having a licence.

Tuffnut -

Can tell you the translation of ANY word into French. This guy is a MACHINE in French lessons.

brings full sized nerf water guns into school.

Chicken is canon. Ruff and Tuff share their bedroom with Chicken.

Never ever sits normally. Always swinging on his chair or sitting cross legged.

Chronic beanie wearer

[bookie-bookdust]

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Ominis’ hat. If it’s not too much trouble, would you be willing to write a little blurb about it? Where is it from? What drove him to purchase it? What does it look like, precisely?

The smut was so well written, but I’m really invested in the hat.

HI @horizontaldancer0!!!! I didn't forget this message. I'm so sorry I'm late. I was spiraling lololol. BUT thank you so much for messaging me about my fic!!!! You aren't the only one who was obsessed with the hat, and you made me laugh so I wrote a little prequel for you💙 It's entirely crack and absolutely ridiculous.

For context for anyone reading this: This is from my smutty crack fic How to Defuse a Ravenclaw - the one where Ominis wears a stupid hat.

Ominis Gaunt was a man of many fine attributes: impeccable taste in music, the dexterity of a sly niffler, a Pureblood name that granted him access to any room he required (and the dwindling coffers and crippling trauma to match—but that was beyond the point).

One of his lesser respected qualities was his timeless fashion taste. Especially necessary next to Sebastian who always seemed to exclusively wear mismatched socks, shirts ill-fitted to show off his physique so the buttons strained. Ominis’ wand shuddered as it detailed Sebastian’s sloppy appearance most mornings, dressed and ready for breakfast, already whining about that damned demented Ravenclaw as if she wasn’t the highlight of his day.

But it was Friday evening at the Three Broomsticks that finally pushed Ominis to true fashion enlightenment. 

The tavern was sticky—hot. His wand dizzily attempted to paint the scene like a carefully plotted map. The place was filled to the brim with Hogwarts students and locals alike. Every table was packed, every glass in use, grubby dirty digits fingering the free nuts.

He wanted to leave. Immediately. Sooner than immediately that he’d trade it for instant combustion if it freed him from listening to Weasley and Prewett wailing some Irish sea shanty. Imelda was on their backs shrieking the correct lyrics.

“Truly. A mending charm isn’t mending anything. It’s putting off the inevitable.”

Sebastian and his literal murder accomplice glared at each other, pink-cheek-drunk at this point by evidence of multiple empty steins littering their tabletop in the corner. They’d been arguing over the true capabilities of mending charms all day, and Ominis’ head splintered in a headache.

“And? What’s the problem with a quick fix until then?” Sebastian huffed, throwing out a hand.

It hit Ominis in the face, and he smacked the idiot’s arm away. “Will you watch yourself?”

But they ignored him, too busy in this sorry excuse for foreplay they’d been doing since they’d met.

“The more you use one, they stop working,” she said.

“That’s what she said.” Sebastian snorted.

“Freak.” She swung.

He lurched back, knocking Ominis’ glass straight down his front.

“You featherbrained imbeciles,” Ominis shouted, standing, and they sank into their seats. “I have had quite enough.”

“Omi, wait—”

“Stop calling me that ridiculous pet name.” He stormed off, shaking out his sticky hands.

He rounded the corner for the lavatory when he crashed into someone.

“Excuse me, you useles—”

“Jumping toadstools. I am so sorry.”

He straightened, all the blood rushing out of him. “P-Poppy?”

“You’re soaked.” She gasped, sniffing. “Is that brandy?”

“Um, yes.”

“What happened?” She squeezed his arm, delicate fingers burning through the fabric of his shirt.

His mouth dropped open and snapped shut. Words. He needed words.

“Sebastian happened. And his stupid girlfriend—”

“Oh yeah, he’s practically in her lap right now.” Poppy snorted, leaning to look past him.

His wand flared to seek it, and he covered it with his hand. He did not want to witness that. He was already damned enough to his wand’s unannounced detailing of random erections.

“So, you’re okay then?” she asked.

He shook his head, blinking. “Um, yes. I’m excusing myself for some fresh air. My ears are bleeding from Weasley’s howling.”

She laughed, and a silly little spark danced in his chest.

“Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “I thank you for the,” he motioned to himself, “cleaning.”

Cleaning??? By Salazar, was he illiterate?

“Of course.”

Silence stretched between them, and Ominis let his wand outline every detail he could get. The nervous fidget of her fingers, her soft locks tucked behind her ears, the missed polish on her shoes.

“Would you mind if I joined you?”

His heart gave a very incriminating thud, the pulse of his wand matching.

“Why, of course not. I’d be honore—um, elatat…Yes, please come to me. On me. WITH. Come with me. Outside.”

If only the Slytherin gene had been transfiguring into a pile of snakes and not speaking to them.

Her lips twitched, but she granted him a formal nod and took the lead down the busy aisle out of the Three Broomsticks.

Chaos boomed around them, students trading shanties for some awful medley about a whore’s tits that had Sirona smacking a broom over Leander’s head.

“Not in my place of business, Mr. Prewett. To the Hog’s Head if you want to behave like that.”

Ominis’ wand flashed in warning, and he tugged Poppy against him just as Andrew Larson and Everett Clopton barreled past, tipping a table. Three Gryffindor girls shrieked.

The two stumbled to their feet, attempting to fix the mess, but they knocked a chair in the path.

“Merlin’s beard.” Poppy surged back, rubbing against Ominis’ front.

He nearly fainted. “Hurry,” he cleared his throat. “Before Miss Ryan starts blasting students.”

They stormed for the door, so close to some damned peace and quiet when a sniveling voice called from behind him.

“Oh, Mister Gaunt."

He halted.

Of course now.

“What do you want, Hobhouse?” He pointed his wand right at the fool’s nose, catching on his nostril so the boy jerked back.

His wand highlighted the tall cylindrical object on Hobhouse’s head, and Ominis dropped his hand.

Was he wearing…

“Is that a top hat?” Ominis snorted.

Hobhouse grabbed the rim of the black velvet with a scowl. “So what if it is?”

“You look like a damned fool.” He knocked if off Hobhouse’s head with a smack of his wand and it decked an unsuspecting sixth year in the face.

“You’ll pay for that, Gaunt.”

Ominis huffed a dry laugh, and the Three Broomsticks fell to drunken whispers and hoots. “What are you possibly going to do, hm? Throw a tantrum? Do you even know how to use your wand?”

Hobhouse unsheathed it, knocking it against his hip, and it clattered to the ground. He scrambled for it, straightening.

“Oh, oh my.” Poppy stepped back, fighting a smile.

“You’re embarrassing yourself.” Ominis sighed.

Hobhouse threw a blast, and it whizzed overhead, dinging the light fixture.

“How dare you—”

“Boys, please,” Sirona shouted.

Ominis lunged, the two a swirling force of swatting hands when someone pulled them apart.

“At least duel it out. Merlin, you look like pissy housecats.” Sebastian fisted their shirts.

“This is silk.” Ominis shoved him off. “Go snog your girlfriend.”

Sebastian blanched, glancing behind him. “You know she’s not—”

“Let’s just go outside and cool off. Before someone loses an eye.” Poppy cut in, grabbing Ominis’ hand.

“That’s right. Listen to Peculiar Poppy.” Hobhouse snorted.

“You.” Ominis summoned the hat, jamming it down over Hobhouse’s head so he busted through the top.

The room erupted.

“My hat!” Hobhouse shrieked.

Sebastian yanked Ominis back, hauling him away from that sniveling rodent and straight out into the cold. The soothing quiet hit him instantly, and his shoulders eased.

“I can see myself out, thank you very much.” Ominis shoved him off.

Sebastian laughed. “You’re something special, mate. Sirona’s going to send you a howler for that.”

“Let her.” Ominis smoothed out his shirt.

“Goodness.” The doors swung open, and Poppy tripped out. “That was worse than two male hippogriffs fighting for dominance. It’s absolute chaos in there. Sirona is threatening to shut down.”

“Shit.” Sebastian ran back inside. “Behave, Omi,��� he called over his shoulder.

“Don’t call me that.” Ominis scrubbed his face, taking a seat on the curb.

Poppy plopped down beside him close enough that their arms brushed, and he purposefully put his wand away. He didn’t trust himself not to unnecessarily probe her.  

“That certainly was interesting,” she said.

“Hobhouse is an absolute menace to wizardkind. Wearing a formal top hat to the Three Broomsticks? Is he a circus ringmaster?”

“I don’t know. I sort of like hats.” Poppy shrugged.

“So you thought that top hat looked good on him?”

“Merlin, no. I hate Hobhouse as much as everyone else.” She snorted. “I just think a classic hat can make a wizard look quite smart.”

Ominis blinked. “Right. Of course.”

Smart.

Quite smart.

***

The next morning, he barged into Gladrags Wizardwear.

“Show me your finest hats this instant.”

Augustus Hill’s teacup dropped with a clatter. He rushed out from behind the counter. “I apologize, Mr. Gaunt. I didn’t have you on my schedule for this morning. I would have had a selection prepared.”

“It’s a last-minute fashion emergency.” Ominis crossed his arms, his cheeks heating.

He’d sat up all night thinking about hats. And Poppy. But also hats. He’d worn them before—obviously. But the options were endless. He needed something with versatility, durability, comfort…

“I just received a new pattern for top hats.”

‘How egregious.” Ominis could have vomited. “This isn’t for formal wear. I won’t be caught dead like some people wearing top hats out to pubs.”

“Right.” Fabrics rustled, tissue paper crinkling as Mr. Hill dug through his shelves.

Ominis drifted to the far side of the store, his wand highlighting a mannequin twirling an onyx hat around its index finger.

He summoned it, tracing the velvet. It had a wide flat rim, an indented crown, with a matching velvet band.

“Tell me about this.” He held it up.

Augustus Hill paused, obvious confusion swirling off him. “That’s a Homburg hat. They’ve grown to popularity with the Muggles. They come in a variety of fabrics.”

“Fascinating.” Ominis rolled it in his hands.

It was ironic, eclectic, good for the changing seasons. He held it up, placing it atop of his head. He’d need a new one of course. Not this used sock of a shelf item.

But it was perfect.

And there you have it! There's the story of his short but passionate whirlwind  romance with his stupid hat. RIP lol. I hope you enjoyed!🥰

[slurmdog]

modern au of scum villain and quasi-Twilight vampire fusion, which, hear me out:

pre-vampirism: shen yuan originally tutors on the side through a school program initiative while he's undergrad in college to be a high school bio teacher. he tutors a teenaged binghe (so bright and intelligent!) who absorbs everything he teaches him and proceeds to run with it all the way to straight A's. binghe is also going through like, 5 awakenings a week getting tutored by shen yuan.

tianlang-jun the vampire king, meanwhile, has been searching for su xiyan's child - it shouldn't be possible for there to be one, but lo and behold: it's half-human half-vampire luo binghe, academic star of his school & extracurriculars, playing around at being human. he snatches binghe as soon as he finds him to teach him the ropes, even if zuzhi-lang is most of his education in the end.

[and then binghe gets dragged around and benignly foiled at every turn in his mission to return to shen yuan for years until tianlang-jun deems him strong enough to defend himself AND shen yuan so he doesn't die like his mother]

so then shen yuan's excited for binghe's graduation, except... when shen yuan goes to his graduation ceremony to surprise him, he's not there. shen yuan knows his grades were good! he should be graduating valedictorian! but nobody's able to find him, and his name is called to an empty stage. shen yuan tries everything short of hiring a private investigator (he has the money, but they just tell him that there's nothing they can do.)

post-vampirism: so for the next 10 years, shen yuan searches for binghe around every corner, until he's teaching a remedial night class at the local high school and... binghe walks in, looking handsome as ever and only a little bit older. he's introduced as a transfer student; apparently binghe has been a chronic school hopper.

see: shen yuan has no social media presence outside of his Peerless Cucumber handle, which he uses exclusively to rail against Airplane's shitty vampire webnovel.

binghe only knows that shen yuan was on track to be a high school teacher, so he finds himself going through the faculty lists of schools nearby (and less optimistically occasionally, the obituaries) and attending night classes like some kind of immortal freak, except he's deeply disinterested in hormonal teenagers and moreso interested in his now probably 30ish-year old prior tutor.

binghe is trying to figure out how to break it to shen yuan that he's a vampire & shen yuan is trying to figure out how to break it to binghe that he's realized he's gay. there's definitely some swooning involved.

shen yuan doesn't really know what to do about this!

[starglitterz]

♡ AMERICANO.

❝ baby, take a chance on me! give me one sign and you will see. // crushing on the local barista ❞

✧ feat : xiao x gn!reader

✧ a/n : FIRST POST OF THE YEAR!! yk it had to be my beloved xiao <3 here's to a fourth year with my baby hehe

✧ note : this is a very late entry to ying's cafe week for the prompt americano !

please reblog w tags + leave comments ! it rlly makes my day :)

“uh, hi. could i please get a…” you flash what you’re certain is the most awkward grin of your life at the poor barista, who’s currently running the cashier as well. you swear you’re never the type to hold up a queue, pondering for ages over what to drink to get – in fact, you always get the exact same drink. it’s just that the way the barista’s pretty amber eyes almost seem to gleam in the late afternoon sun has you stumbling over your words, barely able to form coherent sentences; it’s so embarrassing you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole, you're lucky there's no one else in the line behind you.

“your usual?” he raises an eyebrow, a few strands of jade hair tumbling out of his loose bun to frame his face, and holy archons this man is such a masterpiece he belongs in a museum. you gape at him for a few seconds, opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish before you realise how stupid you must look and you scramble for a reply, “how do you know?!” the corner of his lips quirk up into what might be a smile, “you order the same drink every time.” you’re fumbling for a retort when he continues, “and you come here three times a day.” now you’re ninety-nine percent certain your face is on fire.

“that’s true…” you mutter sheepishly before making a valiant attempt to defend yourself, “but maybe i just really like coffee!” “i think you drink too much coffee,” he chuckles softly as he writes your name on the cup. you’re freaking out over the fact that what has to be the world’s cutest barista is actually aware of your existence, he recognises you instead of seeing you as just another customer from the endless throngs of students that flock to the campus coffee shop daily. then you gasp, “wait. how do you know my name?!” he lifts an eyebrow once more, “i just told you that you order coffee here three times a day. you say your name every time.” great. now he definitely thinks you’re an idiot. it’s not your fault that all your braincells seem to fly out of your head every time you see him!

“oh.” you laugh weakly as you pull your wallet out of your bag, “that makes sense.” mentally, you’re slamming your head against the wall, cursing yourself for being so head-over-heels that you can’t even carry a normal conversation with the barista. as he types your total, he suddenly murmurs so softly that you have to struggle to catch it, “it’s a pretty name, though.” “o-oh, you think so?” the compliment makes your brain short-circuit, but thankfully you manage a proper response, “i like your name too… xiao.” saying his name out loud almost makes you spontaneously burst into flames, which honestly would be pretty inconvenient for the rest of the customers in the coffee shop. not to mention you doubt it would endear you to xiao if you exploded in the middle of his workplace.

you aren't sure if it's just your imagination, but you think that xiao's ears look a little red as he taps on the screen in front of him. then he clears his throat, “you know what, today's drink is on the house.” “what?! really?!” your eyes light up and xiao meets your gaze for a split second before looking away, the faintest pink tinge dusting his cheeks as he starts making your drink, “yeah.” your heart's beating at a million miles per hour from just this small interaction, but you swallow your nerves and give yourself a pep talk as you wait to receive your drink. you never know unless you try, right?

and as xiao turns to give your drink, you blurt, “icouldtakeyououtonadate!” he blinks slowly, cat-like, and furrows his brow in confusion, “sorry, what did you say?” doing your best not to melt into a puddle on the ground, you mumble, “to make up for the free coffee, i could take you out to lunch or something.” there’s a pause, and you quickly continue, “only if you want to, of course!” you're cursing yourself for even daring to be so bold, there's no way he'd want to go out with a caffeine addict like you- “i'd like that.” his reply is so unexpected you look at him incredulously, “what?” “i said, i’d like to go for lunch with you,” now xiao's face is bright red, and he's gripping your coffee cup so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

at this point, you think that you could jump over the moon. “oh! that's great!” you beam, and xiao thinks that your smile is like the sun, “maybe sunday?” “sure,” he smiles, and it's the most adorable thing you've ever seen, “it's a date.” he turns away after saying that to hide his blush, and with the biggest, cheesiest grin on your face you reply, “yeah, it's a date.”

(and later when you finally drink your coffee, you realise xiao has scribbled his number on the side of the cup. maybe all this time you were crushing on the local barista, he was crushing on you too.)

wahhh i missed writing 🥹 i tried something new with this one, i usually prefer writing confident and flirty readers so i hope this is okay for a first time hehehe. hope you enjoyed! <3

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[serafilms]

song 99! up all night (stray kids) + tim drake (spotify wrapped event)

i don't want to go to sleep now, i’ll be making a masterpiece now, i look for caffeine without even realizing, start with a cup

If there was one thing you loved about your job, it was the all the attractive people who came in for their daily dose of coffee. Not that everyone who drinks coffee is attractive, but you worked at a coffee shop near the local university. A pretty nice, aesthetic but not overly themed coffee shop, with actually good coffee.

Which meant all the students from the university and some other cooler looking adults often populated it. There was always a new beautiful face every day for you to admire. And you loved it.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” You heard your coworker say. You looked up and did a double take. Not because the customer in front of the counter was super hot, or anything (but he probably was, when he didn’t look like total shit). The circles under his eyes weren’t dark, because that implies that they could have been darker, but there was absolutely no way they could’ve been. This guy literally looked like the undead.

“Biggest iced americano you’ve got, no water and eight extra shots.”

Your coworker’s jaw dropped alongside yours, and you watched her splutter for a moment before gathering her composure. Props to her, because your jaw was still on the floor.

“Are you sure? That’s like 600 milligrams of caffeine.”

“More, actually,” you interjected, feeling both eyes turn to you instantly. You tried not to shrink under the customer’s pseudo-vampire-zombie stare. “Our espresso shots have like 75 milligrams each.”

Your coworker nodded fervently and turned to the customer again.

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, and you started feeling hopeful that he would cancel the order and go with a simple iced caramel macchiato until he said, “Actually, make it two. But no ice in the second one. I’ll save it for later.”

You both deflated and your coworker rang up the order as you grabbed two large cups and a pen. “Name?”

“Tim.”

“Alright, ‘Tim.’” You wrote the name on the cups and then went to make his drinks. You sick freak.

‘Tim’ plopped himself over at a table in the corner of the store by the window, and took out a very large laptop.

He looked so focused on his work that it scared you a little bit, so you took your time making the drinks to delay the inevitable handover.

“Why are you going so slow?” The voice of your coworker startled you as she appeared at your side.

“I’m really scared of him,” you whispered.

She surveyed the guy. “Yeah, he might not even hear if you call his name. I think you’re gonna have to go up and give them to him.”

“What?”

“Sorry, babes.”

“You’re the worst.”

She responded by shoving you out from behind the counter.

You felt yourself shaking a little as you walked up to the scary, workaholic, caffeinated man, but you managed to steel yourself enough to place the two cups in front of him, and stammer out a, “Here are your drinks.”

He glanced up at you and managed a polite smile that looked surprisingly human, which made something flurry up in your stomach. Wow, my standards must have really dropped, you thought. Still, if you ignored how terrible he looked, you supposed he wasn’t bad looking at all. His hair only looked slightly unwashed, but it was nicely cut and dark, and his eyes were a nice shade of blue.

“Thanks, uh,” Tim squinted at your name badge and you wondered if his vision was blurry from sleep deprivation, “Y/N.”

You kind of liked the way he said your name, you couldn’t lie, but you had dignity to uphold, and crushing on a walking health hazard didn’t seem like the way to do that. So instead, you nodded and made your way back to the counter.

Tim stayed all throughout the rest of the morning rush, then finished his first coffee around midday and immediately dug into his second. He stayed until your coworker clocked out, giving you an incredulous look as she left, and your next coworker clocked in. Then around the afternoon, he stood up suddenly and went to the counter.

You rushed to be the one to greet him (having failed to explain his story to your other coworker for fear of Tim hearing).

“Hi,” you said, feeling a little silly as the words left your mouth, “what can I get you?”

He looked a little amused and a little more awake (thanks to the establishment’s primo coffee beans, not paid promotion), and you felt the tips of your ears heat up as he took some time to look you up and down. You felt a little self conscious under his gaze as he scanned over your face, and you tucked a bit of loose hair behind your ear. You were seriously into this guy now, oh my god.

That was one downside of working in this job, you got flustered very easily by the attractive people.

“I’m running a little low on coffee,” Tim said, and your eyes flicked towards his table to see two empty cups, “and I was hoping to order another.”

“Another 10 shot death drink?” You felt a little panicky as you soon as you said the words, wondering if you’d overstepped a line and the strangely attractive caffeine addict might attack you. You weren’t supposed to judge customer’s drinks.

Thankfully, he grinned. “Death drink?”

“I mean, it’s almost double the recommended intake of caffeine. And you’ve drank two.”

“Point taken. What do you drink?”

“Oh,” your face turned warm again, “I don’t drink coffee.”

Tim blinked. “You’re a barista.”

“Yeah. I like hot chocolate,” you offered helpfully.

He let out a surprised laugh, then said, “How about this? I’ll order a hot chocolate to go instead, if you write your number on the cup.”

Your eyes widened. The tips of your ears felt hot again and your stomach did another little flutter. He was flirting with you. Oh goodness.

“Okay,” you squeaked. “Deal.”

Tim grinned at you. “Thanks Y/N.”

You rang him up, blushing furiously and hoping he couldn’t tell and rushed to make the drink. It was pretty quick this time around, but you took extra care to add a little extra chocolate powder the way you liked it, and when you were done, you wrote your number on the cup and added a little heart for good measure.

Tim was all packed up and ready to go when you were finished, waiting for you at the pickup area.

“Thanks,” he said again when you handed the cup over, and for once he looked a little bashful. You liked that. “I’ll call you. Or text you.”

“Either is good,” you smiled, face still impossibly hot.

He gave you one last smile as he exited the shop, and you immediately collapsed against the counter when he was gone.

“What was that all about?” Your coworker asked.

You waved him off. “Nothing.”

Oh my god.

some of y’all have got third eyes or something bc there’s no way this song + character match up happened

[boopshoops]

For the dating seem thing...Creek. I'M VERY CURIOUS ABOUT IT...

@the-trinket-witch

Hello helloOOO TRINKET AND HARRY :D (i will do jackson soon!!)

I... this isnt a dating sim this is a horror game LMAO /hj

I'd say- similar mechanics as Jocia, gotta up your stats (strictness, persistence, benevolence, mindfulness, tenacity, diligence, and nobility)! For Creek you need some mindfulness and strictness :)

Imagine like- a main game that takes place at NRC, then playful land dlc. Very special circumstances need to happen for creek to appear- (spoilers for playful land ofc) (also creek is a freak so expect some darker themes here lmao)

Catch a glimpse at the number calling Fellow whilst trapped in the cage with the other students. Call it after Fellow drops you back off on Sage Island. I spose in these circumstances theyre a bit of a secret route-

It will offer you work- as it does to everyone who calls. Route branch!

You deny. Good end <3 /hj

You accept. The next few days pass as normal- attending classes and whatnot. As your local isekaied individual, money is always a need. And as an adult in this route, you would be 10x more productive working on whatever you can rather than reattending school- though I'm sure it makes you question your sanity to go work for someone who literally runs a human trafficking ring after LITERALLY BEING KIDNAPPED AND NEARLY TURNED INTO OBJECTS but its too late u want to romance the creature for the logic of dating sims knows no bounds. Safe to say morality has left the building

Speaking of kidnapped-

You went to bed in the dorm like usual, woke up on a fancy, red leather couch in what appeared to be a fancy lounge.

Isola is there with you, unfortunately, by alerting Creek to your location, they are able to acquire her as well. She is quite frankly miserable to be back after a small taste of freedom- and she's out of commission for most of the run. Simply meandering about or confined to a room that already belonged to her, seemingly devoid of any hope to get out. She doesn't trust you at all either anymore, naturally. Talking with her too much will lead to Creeks bad end.

You are both in a seemingly very large estate, with a built in greenhouse- and no known exit. A voice echoes out over a very well hidden speaker system, calling you through two large, ornately decorated doors carved with patterns of flora.

into a surprisingly cozy little nook- with shelves lining the walls containing tanks and tanks of little critters and books, and a large window spanning the entirety of the back of the room to view the open ocean: you're on a boat again. cricket song hums from the glass tanks- so loud it reverberates through the very walls. But it all seems to dull to a quiet hum once it speaks:

"Quite the unpredictable one."

From a neat little tidy corner at the edge of the room, Creek spends a lot of their time at their desk in their office, almost always wearing a crooked grin... the entire route is about keeping up that unpredictability and keeping Creek entertained with new experiences. That is one of the main ways to make them feel- well, anything at all after their many years of life. You are offered a temporary position on the boat as their assistance in order to prove your worth and capabilities- given they were already impressed that you managed to 1) get their contact info at all, 2) sink their damn amusement park, and 3) help them get Isola back.

The job is simple enough- though devoid of any and all morality. You handle whatever small jobs Creek tells you to do: unpacking new shipments of "puppets", aiding them with feeding their many animals and bugs, and helping other workers on the ship.

There is an odd... tenseness in the air. A void of white noise. You can almost always hear the sound of some sort of bug, but rarely people speaking to one another. Like everyone was on the edge of their seat.

In order to get your desired romantic end, you dont mind this at all.

After all- any mention to creek about how "wrong" things felt will simply result in them responding with "but you knew what you'd be getting into, didn't you?" as well as their affection for you quickly tanking.

The more emotions you are able to make Creek feel, the more successful you will be. be it those emotions are good or bad. The more entertained it is, the more it will keep you close.

oddly enough: they offer you a lot of advice. Genuine guidance. Any aid from them feels so tender and careful. like each touch from porcelain and resin hands are meticulously thought through. You learn a lot. and you learn quick. Simply enough, Creek was feared for a good reason. Not only because of it's job and power, but because it knows JUST how to snare you if you cross them. But it also learns from you. It learns that there are endless possibilities for new experiences: from the horrid, to the mundane, to the exciting. They feel like they have purpose again- like they can make an even greater legacy with you than the one they already have.

In that way, they offer you protection... on the better route ofc.

Needless to say, you also very quickly become well acquainted with bugs if you weren't before. Creek's... views of them definitely border on the obsessive in ways you can't understand and are sometimes too uneasy to ask about, but also have an underlying appreciation for nature which comes to be respected.

Route branch! basically in this whole run, you're both very morally questionable, but quickly become codependent. in a toxic way. duh. its creek what did u expect /silly bro is not redeemable- and their mannerisms do not allow for anything even close to a healthy partnership. they will not change for you. its "i can make them worse" time.

Um. i will put what routes are "good" in creeks pov. then like. the actual connotations in parenthesis.

Good ending (bad <3): you match each others freak. 17 injured 9 dead. the bond between you two becomes so strong- but oddly enough its never spoken aloud in any official way. It's all the actions you take for one another. Its how you've made them feel ALIVE again for the first time in decades. Now, they never want to go without the feeling again. You'll stay. and you'll stay oh so close. until they can finally find a way to grab your soul and put it into a body that wont age or decay, just like them. Eternal. (welcome to hell)

Neutral ending (bad <3): They... don't know how to feel about you. sometimes you're fun. sometimes you're boring. you have the potential to do great things with them- so you work together: nothing more, nothing less. Running a human trafficking scheme on a ship out at sea, making bank. (go to jail)

Bad ending (bad <3 and also probably the canon ending if you pick this route lmao): They're bored. Worse than bored- theyre annoyed by you. You and your contrary insistence that everything here is "bAD" despite literally wanting to come here in the first place. Soooo you're fired! yeah :( sorry. Oh, you want to go home then? HAHHAHAHAHA no. you think they're just gonna let you go like that after all the shit you've seen and know about? no. become bug food. (ur dead)

[cringycrisis]

Tales Of The Evil!Kg Au- "Uh Oh."

Sometimes Kid wonders how he even ends up in situations like these. Shoved into a wall while being almost choked by the local robocop of the school: Penny. Her eyes bore into him like she wanted to disintegrate him (which he knows she can 100% do). Kid tried his best to wiggle his hand out of her powerful grasp as it was pinned painfully to the wall, the other he refused to remove from the arm that was currently pinning him to the wall by his neck.

“Apologize.” Penny ordered, her voice lacking any kindness or emotion other than rage. Her eyes glowing red to match those emotions.

“Fuck you.” Kid spat back, the grip on his neck only tightened as he felt his vision blur for a split second. 

“I said apologize.”

“Penny, forget it. It's not like he has anything good on him this time.” Ted said unamused, almost disappointed as he tossed Kid's green backpack haphazardly off to the side, belongings spilling everywhere on the ground as it slid and hit a nearby locker. In a sudden motion, Penny fully lets go of Kid and lets him fall to the ground with a grunt. Kid takes a moment to rub his throat where Penny had grabbed him as he stares hatefully at the two blondes.

“What's with the stupid face freak? Be grateful that we're not beating your ass for having nothing.” Ted gives Kid a cruel smile as he walks up to him, towering over as he stares down at the brunette.

“Says the loser whose only friend is something that pretends to be human.”

Kid felt his world blacken for just a moment as Ted aggressively kicked him in the stomach with enough force to knock all of the wind out of him.

“You better keep your mouth shut freak if you value your teeth!” Ted threatens, giving him another aggressive kick.

“Make me.” Kid coughs out, getting grabbed and harshly shoved against the wall, smacking his head against the lockers. Dazed, Kid could feel Ted's breath against his face as he began to register the hateful eyes staring into his own.

“What's going on here?!” Another voice catches the attention of the boys and Penny, turning around, they face a horrified-looking Jerome, behind him, with the door open stood Carla, Monty, and Buggs who shared equal horror. “Theodore, what are you doing?!”

“Oh great, you people.” Ted rolled his eyes, releasing Kid from his grasp and letting him fall back onto the hard-tiled floor as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Kid winces in pain as he lays on the ground.

“Theodore you know if you keep up this behavior you're gonna get expelled!” Carla warns with a worried tone. Ted only seemed mildly amused by it, letting out a dry chuckle.

“What we are up to is none of your concern, Carla.” Penny states calmly, “Now if you will excuse us, we are busy punishing this student.”

“Just because you're the school hall monitor doesn't mean you can do whatever!” Buggs states, pushing past the others as he gets in front of Jerome. “You're not in charge of the school.”

Penny looked at Buggs, her eyes remaining emotionless as she thinks. Kid notices sweat start to form on Buggs's forehead as the silence grows deafening.

“...That may be true Bucklee, but as you can see, we're in the hallway, so it is my right to punish any misbehaving students.”

“Penny if you or Theodore keep doing this we'll report you to the Principal!” Monty threatens. This seems to get a reaction out of Penny, though very mild, a small glint of anger appears in her eyes before disappearing. 

“Very well. Come on Theodore, we have other places to be at.” Penny spoke calmly as she straightened her posture, brushing off dust from her dress before turning and heading off down the hall with an elegant and quick pace. Ted flips them off before shoving his hands back into his pockets and storms off to follow Penny.

Kid watches as they both disappear around a corner, his body now suddenly remembering the beating it took as the pain registers in his brain, making him wince in pain as he tries to sit up.

“Are you alright Kid?” Jerome asked as he offered a hand to him, Kid takes it and was helped up to his feet as he stumbled from exhaustion.

“As great as anybody else who got beat up by an android.” Kid says bluntly. Jerome gives him a sheepish smile as he helps him into the classroom. Carla walks past them to pick up Kid’s items. Luckily the room was empty aside from the four student council leaders. Monty heads towards the teacher's desk where his backpack sits while Buggs goes back to leaning against the window on the other side of the room, crossing his arms. Kid loosens himself from Jerome's grasp and drags himself towards the desk, hoisting himself on top to sit down.

“They keep getting ballsier with these attacks.” Buggs points as he flicks a paper triangle that was on the window sill into the trash. “This is the fifth one this week!”

“Ha. That's hardly shit.” Kid starts as Monty pulls out bandages from his backpack and hands them to Kid. “Not even close to her record.”

“So she's just getting sloppy with hiding them then!” Buggs exclaims “I knew it! She has been abusing her powers again! I told you!”

“Buggs, you know there isn't anything we can do about it.” Jerome reminds him. “Even if we try again, remember what happened last time we reported her?”

Buggs huffs and turns to look out the window. “I still think it's stupid that we're just allowing this to happen. What happens when Penny goes too far one of these times and kills someone, like Kid!”

“Bold of you to assume she hasn't done that already.” Kid cuts in. “Remember that Becky girl who used to sell weed in the upstairs bathrooms?”

“SEE!!” Buggs says as he jesters to Kid while looking at the others. Carla looks away nervously as she neatly repacks Kid's backpack. Monty and Jerome share a glance, seeming nervous as well as they both look to be contemplating something. Kid continues to bandage himself up as he watches. The room fell silent as Buggs looked at his friends, his arms falling down to his sides, speechless.

“If you morons are done arguing, I have a plan on how to get rid of the problem.” 

“No, we are not killing her, Kid.” Jerome scolds, earning an eye roll from Kid.

“It's not like she's an actual human.”

“But she used to be…” Carla says solemnly. “The ‘real’ Penny may be long dead but she still has thoughts and feelings.”

Kid snorts. “Yeah, feelings like blood lust.”

Carla irks but remains silent as she finishes and zips up his backpack. “I just don't want to be the cause of someone's death, human or not.”

“Kid.” Jerome spoke softly, “Penny is still a person.”

Kid slides off the desk, tossing Monty back his bandages as he goes and takes his backpack from Carla. For a moment they both stare at each other as Carla looks at him desperate, earning a sigh from Kid as he looks away and heads towards the door. “Sometimes I reeeeeeally don't understand you weirdos.”

“It's who we are, you know that.” Carla says gently, her smile was small and soft to match.

“Whatever, if you guys think you can reform the crazy robot, be my guest. But don't say I didn't warn you if shit hits the fan.” Kid leaves the room, heading down the hallway and speed walks towards the staircase as quickly as he can. He'd rather not risk a round two with those two today, too dangerous.

—--

Ted secretly watches from around a corner as Kid disappears down the stairs. “I wouldn't suggest doing anything too courageous, Ted.” Penny calmly states as she sits nearby on a bench. “We already went too far.”

“Psh, you really think that I care-”

“No, but Lily and Billy would.”

Ted groans irritably “God with this shit again.”

Penny stares quietly at him for a few seconds before blinking slowly. “You and I are both aware of the deal we made with those two.”

Ted huffs and stomps over to a nearby trash can, he glances once at it before kicking a soda can that laid next to it. “Why should that crap matter? They barely even keep up their end of the deal.”

“That may be true. But remember, that is our leverage against them.”

Ted pouts at her before joining at the bench. Penny scoots closer to him before putting a hand on his knee. “Patience is key Ted, trust me, when the day comes you'll see what I've been planning.”

“You keep saying that, are you ever going to tell me what you're up to, or is this a game to you?”

“A bit of both.” Ted smiles at Penny, leaning his head on her shoulder. Penny returns the favor by leaning her head on his.

“You're my favorite person Penny.”

“As you are to me.” Penny hums happily.

[if-i-had-it-all]

"It All Started When A God Begged For The Mercy Of A Human"

{Sally Jackson | Paul Blofis | Poseidôn Domatitês RP Blog}

If I were a king, If I had everything If I had you and I could give you your dreams If I were giant-sized, on top of it all Tell me what in the world would I go on for If I had it all?

{If I Had It All, Dave Matthews Band}

Salacia "Sally" Jackson-Blofis

Salacia "Sally" Blofis, nee Jackson, is a freelance writer and community advocate who's taken up the world by a storm within these past few months. Once famously known as Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School's Piano Accompanist during Nations as mere freshman before unfortunately having to drop out of both the news and her high school after the death of her Uncle, the school's Opera Director, Sally Blofis now runs her own nonprofit using her latest book series's skyrocketing sales to help struggling young teens get their names out there so less children are forced to slip through the cracks. 'They aren't nameless anymore,' 43-year-old Sally Blofis tells the news, 'they aren't just numbers, or news titles. They are people, they are loved ones, they are tragedies. They deserve the love of someone feeling pride for them, not just their situations. They deserve to know that love is not conditional and America was built on opportunities, not just greed.' Mrs. Blofis has since helped over a million teens get back off of the streets with scholarships, food pantries, workshops, assisting with Missing Persons and Undocumented Americans gain their citizenship, and opening her own Publishing Company to give a break to those who otherwise wouldn't of had the time or resources for it. Way to go, Mrs. Blofis, America is rooting for you.

Paul Blofis

"I will admit, being bisexual was definitely new to me when I came out and started dating my now boyfriend alongside my wife," Paul Blofis, leader of Goode High's first ever Gay-Straight Alliance Club, told local news stations during the club's first Pride Parade. "I never found it to be wrong, per se, but when I saw it on the news or on TV, I never really thought it applying to myself. I just didn't think about it." And neither did Mr. Blofis think about the flags when he first put them up in his classroom. "I was just in love!" Mr. Blofis, wearing similar flags painting on his cheeks and sown into his clothes, laughed and became misty-eyed thinking about the things that started it all. "I wanted to show them off, I wanted to show me off. I mean, I'm finding more and more about myself in my 40s! There's still so much more about me to learn!!" Accompanying him to pride is a band of at least 20 teens, ranging from all different backgrounds and cliches. "In hindsight, we really should have asked about it," one of the teens cringe, "because we definitely freaked teach out appearing in his classroom all beat up... but it worked out in the end." Since hanging up the polyamorous and bisexual flags in his classroom, Mr. Blofis had seen a strange spike of the same group of people hanging out after class as much as they could or spending their breaks in the corner library. He didn't mind it, of course, but the dots didn't connect yet until a student, who remains anonymous for his privacy, came to him for help against his abusive stepfather who recently found out he was gay. "And ever since then," the teacher and group reported, "it's been history."

Poseidôn Domatitês

After months of researching, officials still don't know the identity of recent news stars Paul and Sally Blofis's third partner. If you didn't know, Sally and Paul Blofis have been going viral on both social media platforms and news stations for their overwhelming contribution to today's teens, with Mrs. Blofis starting up her own nonprofit to help get teens and their stories out there, and Mr. Blofis becoming an unexpected pillar of New York's Gay Teen community. But, many have been asking, who is their third? A man reportedly appearing in his forties with dark ripped jeans, gold accessories, and a loose Hawaiian shirt has been plaguing social media outlets and news stations with his elusiveness despite always being at his partners' sides. Social Media language experts say that, even when his name has been caught by high-tech camera and sound equipment, such as the ones we use here, it is almost never understandable. Current enthusiasts have started using the hashtag "Who Is The DILF" to share discoveries and anecdotes about the mystery of the third Blofis, and some reports even say that a few are working on looking at the sound waves to try to find his name. Hopefully, we will know more in the coming weeks about who is this elusive third.

Γεια σε όλους!! [Hello Everybody!!]. This is an RP account based off of one of my favorite self-indulgent AU ideas where Sally Blofis, Paul Blofis, and Poseidon are all together as a couple!! Hopefully, there will be an actual fanfic of this idea coming out soon, but I figured I'd have a grand time RPing as them in the meantime :)). This AU is based off of what I think would be a very crucial missing scene of Rick Riordan canon, which would be the conversation between Sally, Paul, and Poseidon about Percy's disappearance. It was very, very vulnerable and heartbreaking, especially with Poseidon's theories about what it all could mean and how powerless Sally and Paul are with the fate of their son, or who has come to be their son, in Paul's case, but it was the start of something more. Poseidon started to awkwardly come around more, unsure of how to atone for his mistakes and to help out with the housework as they all tried to figure out how to function again. He helped out with Estelle, being the only person who could soothe her cries during the night, and eventually the three of them just started to orbit around each other. Annabeth, too, became apart of their little surviving family, having her fair share of vulnerable moments with all three of them as they figured out what to do when a part of their souls is missing. Eventually, Percy came back and they started falling in love. It was slow, but it was comfortable. It was amazing.

And so, feel free to interact with any of them! As anybody!! I'd adore if this is a multi-fandom blog where I can have fun with whoever bc we all know Sally will love anyone and everyone as her own and so will Paul and Poseidon's just a grump who pretends he hasn't already filled out the adoption papers but we all know has 😂😂. Feel free to RP as whoever in whatever situation--fandom, age, niche, etc--and also feel free to either request one of them or let me take the reigns with the response!! I wanna have fun here :))) /pos /gen. [Also I adore these older gays, so much /gen].

↳ I Think It's Her Way Of Saying Anything's Possible - Sally Blofis RP

↳ I Was A Shakespearean Actor In College! - Paul Blofis RP

↳ That's Me. Ancient History :) - Poseidon RP

[maybankiara]

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

22: BETWEEN THE LINES

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead. w/c: 3.3k a/n: addie and holden having a sweet moment at last...or are they? read on wattpad previous part | series masterlist

Virgin Mary | 3:47am what are the odds on this being a big mistake

Me | 8:02am 0:1000000000 Me | 8:02am stop freaking out, you’ll be fine

Virgin Mary | 8:30am Addie Virgin Mary | 8:30am i am going to Tom’s Virgin Mary | 8:31 amfor all of the fucking holidays 😩

Me | 8:35am Marianne Me | 8:36am my beloved Me | 8:36am you said you wanted this, you said that this is the best for your relationship, you said that this was the right thing to do Me | 8:36am and Tom said he wants to take this step Me | 8:37am you’re just scared bc it’s a big deal

Virgin Mary | 8:38am AND WHAT ABOUT IT 😡

Me | 8:40am it’s okay to be scared Me | 8:40am but you’ll be fine ❤ Me | 8:40am let me know when you land

Virgin Mary | 8:42am supportive bitch Virgin Mary | 8:42am ❤

◇

It’s evening time at the Weatherby-Mallory residence, and there are nearly half a dozen’s worth of cups scattered over the living room. Some are on the TV stand, next to a framed photo of the roommates and their friend group that Wes got Marianne for her birthday; some are next to the wall, far enough to avoid potential spills; and some are on the coffee table, nearly hidden between pages and pages of files, all compiled into little folders with corners sticking out.

  It would be an ordinary evening for Addie, except this tends to be the setting of her bedroom, not the living room. With Marianne gone for the next few weeks, though, Addie’s life has already consumed even the shared areas of the flat, and Addie finds herself to be a bit spoiled by the newfound commodity – she doesn’t see how that tiny space was ever enough for this much work. Although, now there are Holden’s files, folded away between and over and under her own, so she may be overestimating it a little.

  Her phone dings, somewhere in the pile. She drops down from the couch, a little ungracefully – her foot gets stuck in the pillow and she nearly kicks Holden’s shin tugging it out. He chuckles and she groans, and then she’s rummaging through the files until she finds the phone, its screen still lit from Marianne’s text.

  ‘They landed!’

  ‘Oh, good,’ says Holden.

  ‘Mhm. I’ll tell her you say hi.’

  Addie’s fingers are fast at typing, even though she needs to fix a typo here and there. She asks Marianne how the flight was – it’s always a necessary question, seeing as Marianne likes flights just about as much as Addie likes clowns. Maybe even less. The one time they’d flown together to Boston, Marianne had a full-blown panic attack during one of the turbulences and Addie spent the rest of the flight trying to calm her down.

  But it’s good, she tells herself. She had Tom with her.

  (Or that’s why it wouldn’t be good, her thoughts say, and she shoves them away.)

  ‘You look worried.’

  Addie huffs. ‘I’m not.’

  ‘You sure?’

  She glances at her phone once more before putting it down, on yet another pile of papers still needing to be looked at. She gets back up on the couch, draws the fuzzy scarlet blanket back over herself, then pulls her knees close to her chest; Holden’s eyes don’t leave hers.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admits. ‘Should I be? I mean, Marianne and Tom… You know they’ve not been on the best of terms. Even if Marianne says things are better now.’ She lets out a little sigh, stretching her legs across the couch, almost far enough to touch Holden’s thighs. ‘I hope they don’t kill each other.’

  ‘They’ll be fine,’ he says. Addie half expects him to put a reassuring hand on her leg—it feels like one of those moments—but he doesn’t. ‘They have their ups and downs, but so does everybody.’

  ‘Yeah, but this will either make or break their relationship.’

  ‘I thought you said they’ve been doing better since after her birthday.’

  ‘They are,’ she says. She pulls her legs back, wrapping her arms around them and resting her head on her knees. ‘I just don’t know if that’s enough.’

  ‘Still, it’s more than likely that this will improve things between them.’ He gives a smile that’s both soft and the sort of smile you give when you’ve said all there is to say about something. ‘Come on, work will distract you from worrying about them.’

  Addie bites her lip. ‘Yeah.’

  His gaze drops and he’s fully immersed into a Balance Sheet that Patty asked them to look at. His red pen is quick to run across the paper, and it’s as if any thought of Marianne and Tom has already vanished from his head. 

  She tells herself that Holden’s right. She’s too subjective. 

  But she doesn’t manage to convince herself of that, nor does she manage to get back to work. The papers are staring at her – notes upon notes of information about a client’s accounts and receipts of purchases of property involved, as he is suing a property investment company for scamming him out of about a hundred grand. At this point, Addie’s looked over the case so much that the numbers are starting to merge, the calculations are dancing on the page, and some of them even look like the letters M and T until she blinks it away.

  Usually, Addie loves catching scammers. She loves fighting for the good side. She loves when she can be crunching numbers and putting them into actual economic trends of property values and similar – but it’s just not coming to her. 

  So she puts the papers back on the coffee table, picks up her mug, instead. 

  ‘They were arguing a lot last night,’ Addie says and waits for Holden to look up at her before continuing. ‘He came over because they were leaving together and I heard them yelling all the way from my room. Neither of them really wanted to go like this, but they bought the tickets back in, like, October. Before all this shit went down. And they didn’t want to waste them.’

  Holden glances down at the papers, then back at her. ‘Is that the only reason why they went? Because of the tickets?’

  ‘I don’t know. That’s what Marianne hinted at, but I still think they’re both hoping for fresh air to do them some good.’

  ‘What do you mean, fresh air?’

  ‘Metaphorically,’ she explains. ‘Different country, different setting, different circumstances. I spoke to Tom the other day and that’s kind of what he said, too. Changing where they are might be the thing they need.’

  ‘That’s not really how things work, though.’

  ‘Why not?’ Addie cocks her head. ‘They’re getting a new perspective on their relationship. Taking the next step, with her meeting his family.’

  Holden lowers the files onto his lap, running his hands through his hair. SHe knows that look—the I’m going to give you all my attention now look—and waits for his eyes to meet hers, heavy and unwavering. He takes a deep breath before he speaks, his lips shut tight until he’s ready, and she’s seen him do this so many times before. Always before he says something he’s convinced is right about.

  So Addie is waiting. Expecting. Not sure what she’s going to hear. 

  ‘Look, you can’t fix a relationship that’s not really going anywhere,’ Holden says, at last. ‘Both people need to put the effort in. To be the people they need to be in this relationship, for the other person. You can change the environment the relationship’s in, sure, and maybe it works for a while, but it doesn’t change that if they’re not a good fit, they’re not a good fit. Marianne keeps the issues between them from you for a reason, and that’s because she knows the truth.’

  He gives her a tight-lipped smile and then his eyes and hands are back on the file in his lap; if Addie wasn’t a part of the conversation, she could’ve been fooled that it hadn't happened. Over. Just like that.

  ‘Well, I think they’re a good fit. They care about each other enough to at least try to be the partner they need to be for one another.’

  Holden glances at her, but doesn’t say anything other than ‘Fair’.

  Addie just stared at him.

  ‘I’m going to make myself a cup of tea,’ she says, getting herself out of the blanket. ‘You want some?’

  ‘Sure,’ says Holden, not looking up from the paper he’s scribbling notes on.

  The walk to the kitchen is brisk. It’s a little bit chilly out of the blanket, and she thinks she should probably turn the heating up a little – but the tea will warm her up enough. She fills the kettle and turns it on, rubbing her upper arms as she leans against the countertop. The sight of snowflakes moving in the wind past her window makes it feel even chillier.

  Addie’s mind replays Holden’s words, over and over again, as she hears the papers rustling in the living room. She wonders if he’s right – if she’s just hopeful and naive, thinking that her best friend could come out of this victorious. Marianne is fighting for it. Tom is fighting for it. They’re trying, and Addie feels like that’s the bit that Holden is missing. They’re not just accepting the status quo – they’re trying to find the issues and fix them. 

  Or, really, Addie is starting to think that it’s the effort to be the right person for someone that is worth more in a relationship than just being the right match from the beginning. It’s about growth, and most importantly, growing with the person. 

  That is why she thinks Marianne and Tom will stick it out. Will see how far they’ve come when all the worries are stripped away, once in England, and why they’ll be able to bring it back all the way to Atlanta. 

  The kettle brews to a halt, steaming their kitchen window until she can no longer discern the snowflakes. She thinks of Drew, and how excited he was for the snow, and wishes she could go out and have fun in it – anything not to have to think about things. 

  She doesn’t think Holden would be too keen on it, though, so she abandons the idea. Really, maybe it’s a good thing. It’s the most productive she’s been in ages, only coming to the kitchen to brew tea or coffee, or eat, in between hours-long bursts of working on cases. She’s burned through more tea in the past few days Holden’s been here than she has in months, it feels like, but she’s also burned through as many cases. She can’t think of the last time she was so productive. 

  Or so tired.

  Addie calls out to Holden. She pours water into the mugs, one for his coffee, and one for her tea (she doesn’t think she’ll ever fully forgive Marianne for getting her so addicted to tea when coffee is right. there.) and get back to work in the living room. Everything ends with getting back to work.

  If she gets all the work for the internship done today, she could spend the next few days focusing solely on fixing up the loose threads from her thesis, and then hopefully things will remain at a constant level and she’ll manage to get everything done and over with before she goes home.

  Home. 

  Her plane ticket is booked for less than two weeks from today, yet she can hardly picture herself coming home. She’s not been since last Christmas, and even though her family came to visit back in May, it’s not the same. She was working on her Master’s, even then, and maybe Addie is just a little bit tired of working.

  ‘We’re having tea in the kitchen,’ she announces. ‘We need a break.’ 

  Holden argues they can keep working. Addie reiterates her statement, holding the mug to her chest, and he drags himself into the kitchen a few moments later, frowning at her lazily as he leans his side on the doorframe.

  ‘What’s the long face for?’ Addie asks.

  ‘We have a lot of work to do.’

  ‘Yeah, but we also deserve fifteen minutes of not doing it.’ She nods towards the dinner table, where his coffee sits, steaming. ‘Fifteen minutes for a cup of coffee won’t kill you.’

  He walks over to the table with a defeated sigh and Addie follows. He takes a sip and huffs at the temperature, and she can’t help but laugh as she holds her hands over the steam of her tea – and when he blushes, she presses her palms to his cheeks. 

  ‘Addie,’ he says, smiling. ‘Your palms are wet.’

  Addie just shrugs. ‘They’re also really warm.’

  ‘They always are.’

  ‘No,’ she says, ‘they’re always cold when I’m working because my blood circulation is terrible and stress makes it worse.’

  ‘Right.’

  His hands are over hers for a couple of moments before he brings them all down, and she’s back to holding her tea. Her thoughts grow calmer and the tea warms her up on the inside as much as it warms her hands – Addie feels lighter. Watches the snow fall, and enjoys the moment of peace.

  ‘I’m really excited to get home,’ she says, feeling a smile coming on. ‘My sister, Liyah said she’s got a bunch of things planned for us and my dad apparently has a list of things he wants to teach me before I’m gone again.’

  ‘Things like?’

  ‘Cooking, I think. Even though I have Marianne for that – or, actually, probably because of that. Probably car stuff, too.’

  ‘What, like changing a tyre?’

  ‘Ha-ha. Very funny.’

  Holden shrugs, like he’s trying to say he had to do it. Even the self-satisfied grin is starting to break through, and she can’t help but smile back.

  ‘He wants me to get a car,’ she explains. ‘To be less dependent on other people and public transport.’

  ‘That’s not a bad idea.’

  ‘But I like public transport,’ Addie argues. She thought she knew that – that he’d be on her side in this. ‘It’s better for the environment.’

  ‘That’s a fair point.’ He glances around the kitchen. ‘You’ve still got leftover lasagne from Marianne left before she left, right?’

  Addie nods, accepting that the conversation is over. ‘You wanna heat some up?’

  Holden nods and she spends the next few minutes watching him struggle with navigating his way around the kitchen. It’s amusing, really, and she doesn’t feel bad about it – she laughs into her cup every single time he tries to find anything, and looks for it in the wrong place at least five times first.

  ‘I don’t know if I’m going to stay home for long,’ he says then, once the oven’s on and the lasagne is finally heating up. There’s an expression on his face that Addie doesn’t recognise – heavy. Conflicted. ‘My brother’s in his teenage destruction arc and it’s driving my dad crazy.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you help him out?’

  ‘He can handle it better than I could, even with his Parkinsons.’

  Addie finds herself staring at him, comprehending this information – information that she feels like should’ve come up at least once in their just-under-two months of being together. ‘Your dad has Parkinsons?’

  ‘Early stages,’ he says. ‘It’s not really a big deal. They caught it early and he’s on medication, so he’s doing alright.’

  ‘You never said.’

  ‘Didn’t think it was important.’

  ‘Holden, it’s your dad.’ She waits for him to say something, but he’s just staring at his cup. ‘I feel like that’s more of a reason for you to stay longer. To help him out.’

  Holden sighs. He leans back into the chair and she feels his legs brush hers before finding their own space under the table. ‘He’s been going fine. Jack’s only fourteen, so it’s not that bad. Besides, if I’m home and having to look after Jack, I can’t concentrate on work. I can’t risk the quality of my work dropping because of that. Don’t want to reduce my chances of Grubson giving me the job at the end.’

  Addie didn’t even know that was what he wanted – but she doesn’t have the energy to deal with another bombshell. ‘It’s nice that you’re so determined and hardworking, and it’s one of the things I like about you most. But at the end of the day, no one should put work over people they care about.’

  ‘Well,’ he says, slowly, as if choosing words carefully. ‘Work’s what puts bread on my table.’

  Addie’s jaw clenches. ‘Work won’t be by your side if things go sideways and you need someone to help you out.’

  Holden has a confused face, then frowns. ‘Am I meant to read between the lines?’

  ‘No, I’m not—I wasn’t talking about us,’ she clarifies, feeling her heart thumping in her chest. ‘I was talking about choosing work over family.’

  ‘Right,’ he says.

  He doesn’t say anything else. Addie wishes he would.

  The oven timer runs out and he tends to the lasagne, leaving her to ruminate in her own thoughts. She refuses to – she’s thinking about Holden’s relationship with his family and his work, the fact that he hasn’t felt like sharing the fact that his single father has Parkinsons and a teenage son to look after, or the fact that he wants to stay at Grubson, even though she thought he’d said it wasn’t where he could put his degree to best use. But money talks, and so does stability, and Addie feels like she neglects to think that’s one of the most important things for people who grew up in unstable households like he has. 

  They eat the lasagne and her thoughts don’t shut up. 

  ‘So,’ he says, ‘have you found any evidence of the scam in the Magellan v The State case yet?’

  ‘I don’t feel like talking about work,’ she says.

  ‘Okay.’

  He helps her clean up the kitchen once they’re finished and tells her to thank Marianne for making the lasagne. They’re back to work, but Addie’s motivation is long gone, and it’s taking a lot more effort than it should to get things done. To read. To make notes. To sit by Holden and bite her tongue before she asks questions that’ll probably reveal more things he hasn’t told her. 

  She glances out of the window and notices the sky’s gotten too dark to see the snowflakes anymore. Her heart clenches, and she realises she’s done. She’s tired. The kind of tired that tries to drag you down with gravity and not let you get up until a year has gone by.

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ she announces. ‘I can’t think anymore.’

  Holden looks up from the heap of papers he’s holding, taking out the pen from between his lips. ‘That’s fine, I was thinking about going home soon anyway.’

  ‘I thought you were staying another night?’

  ‘Yeah, sorry,’ he says. ‘I need to keep working, and I don’t want to bother you..’

  Addie lets out a surprised chuckle. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not bothering me. You can keep working in the living room as long as you want, I don’t mind.’

  ‘Yeah…’ he looks around, then leans forward and kisses her on the lips. ‘It’s better I go. If I stay, I’ll just want to join you, and I’ve got too much left to do.’

  ‘Okay,’ she says. He kisses her again, and she feels her cheeks heating up.

  In the end, she walks him out, and lies in bed alone, knowing she’s going to be alone in the entire flat, and she’s going to wake up alone, too. Thinking about everything Holden said. Think about the things he didn’t. Not only that, but Marianne is on the other side of the planet, and Addie is unable to do anything if things take a turn for the worse.

  It’s not a good feeling.

◇

23: A CASE OF THE BUTTERFLIES 

most people on the taglist have left/changed their urls, so lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

[ladylilithprime]

Not So Silent Night

Event: Secret Santa Exchange via @spnfanficpond

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Wincest

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: Alcohol Use, Dean's Pining, Sam's Awkward Flirting

Summary: The hunt was a bust and Dean just wanted to kick back and a bar and pretend he wasn't missing his little brother like one half his lungs. Turns out the bar he picked was a better choice than he'd thought.

Gifted to: @a-nah

Read on AO3

THE BLUE FLANNEL shirt had stopped smelling like Sam three months ago, but Dean still wore it over his t-shirt and beneath his dad's old leather jacket like he could duck his head and catch a whiff of sweat and deodorant and cheap aftershave. He knew that if he did he'd still get a whiff of the deodorant and aftershave from his own morning routine, but despite being the same set of scents it still hit... differently. Different notes in the sweat from Dean's devotion to bacon cheeseburgers versus Sam's burgeoning preference for eating raw vegetables.

Freak. At least Dean could be sure with his thoroughly cooked meat that he wasn't gonna spend the night blowing chunks from food poisoning because of the questionably clean lettuce.

He didn't even know why he was still wearing the shirt that, by all rights, should have been tossed in either the laundry or the motel room trash weeks ago, why he had bothered spending half an hour with a gas station sewing kit painstakingly stitching up the torn cuff on the left sleeve after it got caught on a rusty nail. It wasn't even the shirt that he had been wearing all that day, having spent most of the daylight hours stuffed into a suit and tie. Something about the bar across from the library had bitten at him, though  and he hadn't been able to leave the motel room to get a beer until he had changed out of the monkey suit and into that blue flannel.

The bar itself wasn't anything special: polished wood that didn't hide the scuff marks, a dart board and a pool table off to the side, and a flatscreen TV up in the corner over the bar for folks to watch whatever game was on. Three mediocre beers on tap, a handful of brands by the bottle, and a liquor selection pretending to be more high class than it really was. He'd been in a couple hundred bars across the country just like it from before he was legally allowed to order anything harder than a Coke. He clocked and dismissed the handful of local barflies and a smattering of college students that might be easy marks at the pool table later, ordering a beer and settling in to unwind a bit from a hunt that wasn't worth the name.

His thoughts derailed when the bartender set a shot glass of something iced and amber at his elbow next to the beer bottle. Dean's eyebrow went up in question - he knew he hadn't ordered that - and got pointed in the direction of one of the tables of college students. Not sure what to expect, he carefully adjusted his lean against the bar and looked over to the indicated table.

He would have been able to tell which table it was even without the direction. Four widely grinning students, two dudes and two chicks, were arranged on either side of a fifth whose head was face down in folded arms that left Dean with only the view of a mop of brown curls. As Dean looked over, toying idly with the glass, one of the girls elbowed her apparently mortified friend into looking up and--

Dean lifted the shot glass in salute to the achingly familiar eyes that locked onto his. The last ones he had been expecting to see in this bar, and also the ones he had been missing the most. Holding his gaze, Dean took a deliberate sip of the drink, eyebrows going up at the rich, oaky flavor that spilled over his tongue. The kid's friends apparently had good taste to be sending him a shot of good bourbon like this instead of the usual paint thinner.

The incredulity that bloomed across Sam's face at the blatant flirtation was probably deserved, but then again this was really good bourbon. Dean raised an eyebrow and quirked one finger in a clear invitation, sparking a vivid blush across Sam's cheeks that was absolutely worth whatever yelling Dean was going to be enduring at whatever volume Sam decided was appropriate. To the tune of the playful catcalls of his friends, Sam got up, downed his own drink, and managed a credibly steady stride over to where Dean was leaning against the bar.

"What are you doing here?" Sam bit out as he got within low conversation range.

"Really? Just right into it?" Dean tried not to pout, but come on, after he'd gone and done the kid the solid of pretending to be a stranger at the bar he could conceivably be hitting on in front of his college friends? "Not even gonna ask if I come here often, or say my shirt would look better on the floor next to your bed?"

"I already know you don't come here often," Sam huffed with a remarkably expressive eyeroll. He eyed Dean up and down and frowned. "And that's my shirt."

"Got left behind in my bag," Dean said with a shrug that he hoped disguised the way his neck was heating up, pulse thundering in his ears. "You want the chance to steal it back, maybe you should hit on me properly, convince me to take you back to my place like your friends expect. Single room," he added when Sam started to look uncomfortable.

"Dad let you out by yourself?" Sam raised an eyebrow, smirking when Dean scowled.

"Dude, I'm twenty-five!" he protested. Sam folded his arms, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Hunt was a bust, anyway, just a regular human sicko."

"Lovely," Sam grimaced. "So you won't be running out in the middle of the night to go dig up a grave?"

"Nope," Dean said, popping the 'p' and raising the shot glass in salute. "You wanna come home with me, I'm all yours for the whole night."

This was the moment, Dean knew. This was the point where Sam could just as easily laugh it off and go back to his friends, maybe with some story about how Dean looked too much like someone he'd gone to high school with, or even looked up close exactly like his older brother if he wanted to go that route. Or, if Dean was very lucky, Sam would be willing to play along and come back with him and maybe...

"So," Sam drawled at length, tilting his body to incline towards Dean as he leaned on the bar. "If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"

Oh, yeah!

"All night long, baby boy," Dean promised and downed the rest of the bourbon in a single gulp.

"Yeah?" Sam licked his lips, trying to look unimpressed as Dean dropped a twenty on the bar. "Gonna tell me not to worry, he's sleeping, for old time's sake?" Which, okay, ouch, point taken. And yet....

"Aw, Sammy," Dean murmured in his ear as he draped an arm around his little brother's shoulders to guide him out of the bar. "If you manage to sleep through this, then I ain't doing it right~!"

=End=

[disregardcanon]

Toh npmd au for my own personal amusement

First thing’s first: character assignments 

Amity as Steph 

Luz as Pete 

Willow and Gus as Ruth and Richie

Boscha as Max 

Hunter as Grace 

Odalia and Belos both as parts of Mayor Lauter

Setting details: it’s still in Gravesfield, CT which still has its same Puritan vs witches branding. The mascot is a pilgrim and that IS Gus in the suit. Who has more school spirit than Augustus Porter? (No one.) 

So a few changes I’m making to make the toh cast slot a bit easier into the framework 

Belos is a fundamentalist preacher who’s raising his “niece”. Yes he DID kill Caleb and Charlotte. No one knows tho. It was lords in black related. Does that make it better? eh

Hunter is trans masc and a TOTAL egg. Right now, he’s a very enthusiastic little warrior for purity culture. Yes, he’s trying to get the dance canceled, YES he’s bullied a lot for being a “nerdy prude”. Not gonna dead name him but. He wouldn’t realize he’s a guy until significantly after the events of this musical 

Luz has NOT been in amity’s class since the 1st grade. She only moved here a year ago

Amity is still the mayor’s daughter and she and Boscha used to date. Amity’s stopped actively bullying people after they broke up and she’s felt like, guilty about it, but she’s never seen how much more.. Physical? Boscha’s bullying got than hers did. Sure, Amity was a queen of psychological warfare, but she never beat people up in the parking lot. 

Luz moves to Gravesfield during her junior year of high school. Amity and Boscha on the cusp of breaking up, so things are changing in their social hierarchy. For one, Amity is backing away from bullying and the spotlight and for two Boscha is getting WORSE. She when Luz moves in and aligns herself with “half-a-woman Willow” and Steve Urkel.. She’s thrown to the bottom of the school hierarchy immediately. Looney Lulu is what comes to mind first. 

Enter Boscha: literal monster, best quarterback in the school’s history and the first girl (she works that angle as hard as she can), and QUEEN of the school. She’s amity’s ex and like… mainly over her. 

Okay, who are we kidding? She’s not over her. Not at all. Boscha decides to put all her “trying to make amity jealous and take me back” energy into seducing amity’s least favorite student: local nerdy prude, preacher’s “niece” wittebane. 

Hunter and amity do NOT get along. At all. They’re duking it out for the valedictorian spot, their respective guardians are pitting them against each other, and they both just find the other… insufferable. 

So trying to bag the “girl” who’s the forbidden fruit and maybe making amity mad enough to take her back with it too? It’s worth a try, at least. 

Amity, meanwhile, is failing theater. She’s getting very frustrated and flustered and asks luz to be her scene partner so maybe she doesn’t fall on her ass. Luz is nervous because this is Amity Blight, super cool girl who used to be very mean to willow and now isn’t really a bully but is just? Way cooler than they are? Amity’s able to talk her into it. 

The teacher heaps a LOT of praise onto them and their chemistry and promises them good grades in the future if they keep working with each other. This leads to amity calling luz and trying to set up the pasqualli’s date. 

Boscha, meanwhile, is cornering hunter near the gym where he’s protesting the concept of dancing. He gets freaked out when boscha starts getting very very flirty and he gets really flustered because? Girl? Girl flirt with me? Also a girl? Hahahaha NO I AM NOT GAY I AM NOT- and he’s having a little sexuality crisis. Willow, who’s done putting up with boscha’s shit right here in the school building, hurls a waterbottle across the room in between them. 

Hunter SPRINTS away because OH BOY I WAS EXPERIENCING SOMETHING STRANGE AND UNWELCOME NO THANK YOU NO THANK YOU- and then he finds out that newly buff and gaining more confidence willow is the one who saved him. And she’s just like oh yeah anytime. No one should corner other people like that. And his little heart is going bEEPBEEPBEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEPPP and the rest of his body is not calming down either, ya know? 

Unwanted sexual attractions experienced by local nerdy prude today: 2. Fantasies experienced in the bathtub: 2 very, very different ones in a single sequence. 

Luz gets the shit kicked out of her at pasqualli’s because she runs into boscha before she finds amity and she’s like no i’m not gonna cower AMITY BLIGHT INVITED ME HERE! And. that. DOES NOT GO WELL 

Willow is ready to go to war over this when they get to school the next morning because she WARNED luz that amity wasn’t to be trusted and look? Look what happened! And luz is like yeah you also said i should stand up for myself- and willow’s like husssshhh. 

They plan a prank in the bathroom that goes very poorly. Hunter writes gus a detention slip for being in the girls’ bathroom (he should have written himself one too!) and then they prank the shit out of Boscha. 

To the point she. You know. Dies. then they have to dismember her at hunter’s urging! Hooray!!!!

Cue peace and love at the high school :) until poor gus dies. I’m sorry dude! You’re the mascot you were cursed. Of course the quarterback was going after you first. 

Boscha goes after luz second because she’s the dweeb who thought that she could steal boscha’s girl. Luckily for luz and amity both, they were together at this point and they RUN as fast as they can. Luz demands they go find willow because she’s probably the next victim, and they find her mid-boscha kill. She lost an arm because boscha was trying to take the “half-a-” thing to its logical, puny extreme. They rush her off to the hospital. The police come to question them. 

And then pastor wittebane comes with hunter in tow. He pulls something with the police about the parks wanting him to perform a protestant equivalent of anointing of the sick on their ailing daughter. 

Pastor wittebane very clearly knows what happened. 

“I thought you were gonna keep the beans cool!” Amity demands. 

“I couldn’t,” hunter tells her. 

“Fucking useless, wittebane,” amity mutters. 

Pastor wittebane glares at all of them. “You are going to get in my car and come with me.” 

“That sounds bad,” luz says, “my mom told me to never be one on one with religious officials.” 

“Fine,” he says, “if you’d like to be the next victim, be my guest.” 

They all get in the car, except Willow, who’s bed-bound. (Luckily, since she’s already in the hospital, boscha thinks of her as less of a kill count priority.) 

Belos takes them out ot the middle of the woods and makes them dig up the black book. Then boscha kills him! We DO get boscha killing belos, so i think that’s a win. They flee the scene, run into some cops, then make it to the high school to complete the ritual. 

We’ve got amity, luz, and hunter on the floor of the gym summoning the evil teletubbies. The evil teletubbies REALLY want amity to kill luz. They get to have their cool as i think i am reprise <3 and then the bullet leaves the gun and boscha catches it. Because she is very, very excited to do luz in personally. She’s still debating whether or not she’s gonna end amity, but luz IS going to die. In front of amity. For absolutely certain. 

Boscha’s getting ready to take care of another nerdy prude when hunter bursts out like HELLO YES! I AM READY TO HAVE THE SEXUAL INTERCOURSE! And boscha’s just like… whut? And then he gets very flirty and goes along with the stuff that she was saying earlier, and he’s.. Legit into it. Sure, flirting with hunter was half to spite amity, but she’s still very turned on by the idea of corrupting the perfect angel church girl into having hot and heavy sex with her on the football field. And making amity watch? That’s a bonus. Maybe she’ll get a threesome out of it. 

Hunter sends boscha to hell with the power of his jesus freak virginity, luz and amity have sixteen different crises, and willow lives to hear the whole crazy tale. Luz and willow mourn gus, hunter goes through the weird process of mourning his uncle while also realizing he’s glad that the guy’s gone and gets to know the shoulder ANGEL part of the shoulder angel and shoulder devil fantasy he was experiencing, and amity hides the book away in her own personal safe to try to keep it away from bad actors. 

It doesn’t keep it safe from mayor odalia blight, but… that’s not going to be that big of a deal.. Right? RIGHT?!?!?!

[yaoimongerer]

High school AU Deidara

He's a horrible person. He's loud, he's always calling out the answer without actually knowing the answer, he sniffs Sharpies in direct view of his teachers, he cyberbullies and bullies some of the younger students (Sasuke, Gaara, Sai). Sai actually thinks they're friends.

Deidara steals from the local outlet mall (which he's been kicked out of literally every time he goes there) and shows off his haul at school with the price tags still on. He wants to be popular but the popular kids hate him more than anyone. This little freak keeps finding them when they're trying to hang out at the mall or coffee shops (or even their homes) and he makes the whole gathering about himself.

He's suspended every other week. They tried to expel him but he keeps coming back. His parents won't show up to parent teacher conferences or answer attempts to contact them.

He always does all the work incorrectly for group projects. Once he climbed up on the roof and threw clay sculptures at the underclassmen.

Despite all this, he has a great time. He's technically bullied, but he doesn't really understand what bullying is. Any attention is good attention, and he gets a lot of attention. He even attends the pottery club after school. He didn't pay for materials but the teacher took pity on him at first so he's allowed to sit quietly in the corner. Instead of doing this, he critiques the fuck out of everyone's technique. He even made this one new girl cry once.

He's paired with Sasori for a project and he hates how the guy never emotes, but he loves trying to annoy someone who is so stoic. Meanwhile Sasori is on 4chan in class and manipulating the votes for every student council for fun. They're awful.