#lydia would be slightly annoyed by this

[acabspocky]

Beej would absolutely be that dad who definitely can't help you do your homework but can (and will) take the time to explain it to you in a way that you understand better than your teacher did

He cannot will not write out math problems, but he'll explain how multiplication actually works with a dozen spiders and some beetlejuicin'

Does he know what Newtons Laws are verbatim? No

Will he take you outside and break down each law individually using his own head? Yes

Do you get straight A's at Ms. Shapen's school? No

Do you maintain a 3.0 GPA? Yes

[shieldofiron]

Derek was still getting used to the whole pack being around. Living together was important to establish themselves as a strong and independent pack but of course it would take some getting used to.

Well, actually… there was only one person he had trouble getting used to. He fell into an easy rhythm with all of them underfoot, even Allison.

But God.

“Oh, sorry,” Stiles would walk right into Derek’s chest in the morning, toothbrush dangling from his lips.

“Sorry!” He would say as he tiptoed into Derek’s study and borrowed/stole a pair of sissors that Derek never did get back.

“Sorry,” he said with a mouth full of food after interrupting Derek’s strategy with another (admittedly slightly better) idea.

And now he was blinking up at Derek with those big bambi eyes. A droplet of water slid down his long pale neck, and-

“Sorry. Waters on the fritz in the east wing. I think Scott, Allison and Kira are… ahem… using up the hot water,” Stiles’ heart skipped a beat and Derek forced his eyes back on Stiles’ face.

“What?” Derek barked.

“L-Laura said to use yours,” Stiles supplied quickly.

He was so… annoying. So hard to live with. Always… around. He was everywhere, dusting everything with his scent, trailing off at the end of his sentences and driving Derek up the wall. So human and annoyingly intelligent. So… pale and pink and flushed and wet.

Derek’s eyes slid down without permission and-

“What’s that?”

“Oh,” Stiles laughed, and the husky sound danced in the molecules between them. “Last Friday the 13th, Lydia and I got free bestie tattoos. They match.”

He angles his hip up, the little stars and swirls on his hip dancing against pale skin dusted with hair.

“Hers is on the back of her neck, but my dad would kill me if he saw so…”

There was that trailing off thing. Derek could only blink at Stiles, watching that pretty pink mouth for another word.

“Well… I better be hittin’ that old dusty trail,” Stiles hitched the towel low on his hips a little and Derek’s eyes ping ponged up and down his lithe body. “Thanks for the shower, partner.”

He patted Derek’s shoulder and headed off, presumably to his own room.

Derek spent a long time standing there in his room, his head filled with snatches of this and that and dark ink on pale skin.

Fuck. He would be really hard to live with now.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

idk if you’re familiar with teen wolf but could i request a fic with loser!Luke who’s similar to Stiles stilinski and aphrodite!reader is similar to lydia. No one sees that reader is more than a pretty cabin 10 girl and idk i think it would be cute if luke recreates the “hi y/n, you look…like you’re gonna ignore me” ugh loser!luke just gives me too much in my feelings

𝒫ℴ𝓅𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇

I LOVE LOSER LUKE AND TEEN WOLF AHHH

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Has she even looked your way?” Chris asked, listening to his brother's fantasies. The two walked through the woods, bags slung over their shoulders.

“A few times. She talks to me when we spar.” He shrugged, “and when we check cabins together.”

“Mmm… right, and in those few times she’s become interested in you? You have to make some sort of effort.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” He joked; Chris chuckled.

“Because she’s Aphrodite’s favorite, she’s the most popular girl at camp, almost every guy wants to be with her, and every girl admires her. She beats you in sword fighting from time to time and she’s a God at archery.”

“I still gotta chance. And she does not beat me in sword fighting.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“Mhm..”

He nudged Chris and asked him, “what about you? You got your eyes on anyone?”

“Nah.” He shook his head.

The two continued chatting and walking, when Luke saw someone coming up quickly in the corner of his eye.

Chris nudged him this time, raising his eyebrows.

“Hey y/n, you look…” Luke began to say, but you just walked past him, not acknowledging him.

“Like you’re gonna ignore me.” He mumbled to himself, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment as Chris laughed at him.

“Shut up.” He groaned, rolling his eyes at Chris.

And it was just his luck that you were heading to the same spot as him.

The ocean was a common spot for campers to get away and escape. It was a long walk there but it was worth it, it was beautiful and it was quiet.

But today was Sunday, most kids would be having fun with their friends and taking this day off. You were heading there to practice.

Soon, they had reached it and they saw you already there, ready with your bow in hand. There was a few targets on the trees. They watched you, looking like dears in headlights when you turned to look at them.

“Can I help you..?” You asked them, slightly annoyed.

“No. No. Sorry.” Chris said, grabbing Luke’s arm and dragging him as far as possible and onto the sand.

“She’s so…” he mumbled to himself, as he took off his shirt and turned back to face you. He took off his jeans, his shorts underneath.

You furrowed an eyebrow as you saw him, he messed up your shot as you turned to look at him. Jesus, he was ripped. You thought.

“You have it bad, you know that? She’s not even using charmspeak.” Chris replied. “Turn back around, you look creepy.”

Luke obliged, turning to look at Chris now as he took off his own shirt and jeans, his swimming shorts underneath.

The two raced to the water, jumping in. Luke had won, the two laughing.

You focused on your shooting, however. Trying your best to ignore the pair. They swam around, racing each other while talking loudly. They then sat down on the sand, shaking their heads and wet curls.

You sat down against a tree, downing your water. Chris began talking but Luke wasn't listening. He watched you, and Chris smirked at him.

"Go talk to her."

"What?" he asked, as if it was the craziest thing he's ever heard.

"Go talk to her, man."

"About what?"

"Just talk to her." he shrugged, softly pushing Luke.

"Alright, alright." He said, standing up. and slowly walking towards you. You glanced at him, and he gave you a small smile and sat next to you. You took in a deep breath.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi..."

Now that you were looking at him more closely, he wasn't bad looking, not at all.

"It's uh, y/n, right?"

You nodded. But you knew that he already knew that. "Its Luke, isn't it?"

Holy shit you knew his name. He was trying to contain a smile, his heart raced. He nodded slowly, and you laughed quietly as you noticed him staring at you.

"Well? Did you need something or just my name, gorgeous?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and his eyes went wide. Oh my God, you called him gorgeous. He didn't know what to say. You smiled and tilted your head at him, waiting on a response.

"No, sorry." He cleared his throat. "Just... Yeah, I'm gonna go, it was nice talking to you." He said, standing up, and almost tripping as he ran back to Chris.

What an interesting boy, you thought to yourself as you stared at him, and when he turned back you gave him a small smile, a pink tint on his face.

[webslingingslasher]

did trouble ever have a baby dream? like when you dream you have a baby and you feel so motherly (?) and then you wake up and there's no baby? I noticed many people have that type of dream and now i'm wondering how peter and trouble would act after she wakes up from one of those

you had been kicking at peter's back for a solid minute before finally slurring out your words. 'where's lydia?'

'who the fuck is lydia?' he's pissed and tired.

'our baby.'

now he's wide awake. 'our what?' you don't answer, he rolls over and stares at the side of your face. 'trouble, you said huh about a what?' your eyebrows scrunch and you turn to your side, peter jerks your hip and sends you right back to where you started.

your eyes peel open. 'what?' peter thinks you're brave to have the nerve to act annoyed, he's staring down at your stomach with a burning glare.

your question goes nowhere, you sigh and try to turn once more, peter stops you. 'who the fuck is lydia?' you feel like a bucket of water was dumped on you, you've never had something like this happen before and it terrifies you. the supernatural is real.

you lean in close to his face, whispering out the words, scared of who might be listening. 'did you dream about her too?' peter doesn't look amused. 'no. you kicked me eight thousand times and asked where she was.'

'i didn't know where she went. i didn't mean to ask you out loud.'

peter's not saying the words you did, you'd take it and run for the hills. 'who is she?' you yawn, the topic now boring. 'our baby. can we cuddle?' hitching your leg over peter's hips, he goes still.

'you're not allowed to dream about my babies. i forbid it.'

you pat his chest, his demand viewed as adorable. 'easy, tiger. i wasn't astral projecting, i just saw this kid and you were next to me and i just knew who she was, that's all. i turned around and she was gone, i must've been sleep talking.'

peter wraps an arm around your back, you melt into his chest and feel your eyes get heavy. right at the cusp of sleep you feel peter's chest slightly vibrate.

'i'm serious, trouble. no more dreaming about my babies.' 

[batxmasisrjuice]

Dear Diary

A fun collaboration with @obsessive-ego 💚

InvisibleBeej x FemReader

Slightly NSFW

And a big thank to @beetled-juice for running through this journey with me!

Beetlejuice finding out your secret thoughts about him! 👀

Dear Diary

So, you have a diary. Big deal. As an adult, you need to vent sometimes and writing has always been a nice outlet for you. But with Beetlejuice living with you rent-free and having boundary issues, you knew you needed to hide this diary well away from his grubby hands and prying eyes. Luckily, you had the perfect spot in your apartment. Somewhere he'd never want to venture: behind the cleaning supplies.

Yes you were both smitten with each other. But you've both been too scared to ever confess these feelings. So on a daily basis, it's nothing but strong flirting from him, and butterflies in the tummy for you.

But it's getting to the breaking point, and you have to get these thoughts out before you completely snap. It feels like this past week he's been extra flirty and handsy with you.

It was rarely a quiet evening at home with Beetlejuice always around keeping you constant company. However, he was nowhere in sight tonight. A little out of the norm, but you guessed he was out doing his usual activities. Either spending time with the Maitlands, annoying Lydia, or off scaring your neighbors. So you decide it's a perfect time to write! You retrieve your diary and pen, get all set up with a cup of tea in hand, and snuggled up on the couch under a cozy blanket ready to write out all of these pent-up emotions.

Little did you know Beetlejuice has been in the apartment this entire time. In invisible mode. Just watching what you'd do if he'd left for an evening, and to see outside your usual routine when he's around. Now shocked to discover you own a diary!

"I fucking knew it! You little minx. And hiding it in the best place too, you naughty girl." 😈

He knew you had to have one, and damned if he didn't try hunting for it in the past. He notices you getting comfortable and decides to get closer.

"Now! What naughty thoughts have you written down in this bad boy, hot stuff?"

Being the curious demon he is, he peeks over your shoulder as you begin to write. Starting out with the usual day to day stuff like work and family things. A nice warm up before getting to the feelings you've kept buried for months.

"Oh c'mon babes. Get to the good stuff! I know you have dirty little secrets you'd never like Mr. Beebleboose to find out about you."

He squats down to your eye level, wanting a better view while you're in your element. So fascinated with your look of contentment, and how beautiful you look when you're at ease and in your own headspace. Strands of soft pink begin to spread across the tips of his hair. You're beginning to drive him mad and wants so badly to just lean in and kiss you. He's frozen in place for a long moment as these fantasy thoughts of you kissing him back come to him.

Snapping back into reality, he slowly stands back up with a low sigh. Hair shifting to purple. Now saddened by this unrealistic idea of why would a breather like you ever be interested in a demon like me come to his mind as he gazes down at you. He begins to pace around for a bit as you continue to scribble.

After a moment, he sees you stop to take a sip of tea. You pause and look up, taking in a long deep breath before repositioning yourself, now leaning in more focused as you go back to writing. His curiosity always getting the better of him, he walks back behind you and quickly halts. Wide-eyed seeing his name has been written! Your personal thoughts... ABOUT HIM!

He's panicking! Now rushing to look at your previous writing to catch up on what you've said about him so far. Stomach tightening from anxiety of what they might be. Then settling on the first sentence that included his name reads:

And damn... then there's Beetlejuice.

He continues to read on, not knowing...or sure if he wants to know where this is going.

Reading on:

He's just driving me completely crazy! I'm at my limit here and dont know what I'm going to do with him. He's just getting to be too much, to the point I can't be held responsible if he keeps this up any longer!

He instantly slouches... not knowing if he wants to continue your next thought pouring from your still-moving hand. He looks down and feels absolutely heartbroken.

What was it that he's done specifically to make you this upset with him? What can he do to fix this and make it better? His thoughts are stopped short when he hears the movement of your pen halt, and you pause to let out a small whine, border lining into a moan.

He immediately shoots his gaze back up towards you, baffled why you'd make such an arousing noise. Or was it a depressed sigh that his perverted mind mistook for an erotic noise?

You lean your head back, eyes worried and scanning the ceiling. He has to see what else you added to the diary so he can get a handle on what made you react like this. Slowly, he glances back down at the diary entry, your hand paused at the last bit of paper, showing the last unread sentence:

He's making me so horny and riled up with all his teasing, touching, and flirting. I just want to pin him down and have my way with him!

For a moment he's convinced he's dreaming. This is too good to be true! His purple hue instantly fades back to pink. Looking at you in a deep stare and mouth hanging open, he pinches himself. His daze is cut short as he hears you moan again, making his eyes widen as he bites his lip, his color now snapping into a deep magenta.

Tapping your pen at a quickening speed, you finally place it down on the surface next to your tea. You take a sip, trying to calm yourself. Feeling tense, you put the tea back down and bring your hands to your upper arms, dragging them up and down a few times while in deep concentration...almost worry. You take a long pause. With your eyes closed, you slowly move your hands toward your breasts. Resting them there for a moment, then begin to caress and massage them slowly. Quietly moaning.

Beej is in awe, his jaw nearly hitting the floor! Knowing he shouldn't be seeing this, and you're doing this because of your thoughts...of him!!! He takes a big swallow and whines, resting his wide, unblinking eyes on you as he adjusts his hardening cock in his pants. His breathing getting heavier and begins to loosen his tie because damn... was it just him, or was it suddenly getting hot in here? Watching you do this to yourself was pure eye candy for this demon, and he wasn't missing a moment! Drool starting to form on his bottom lip as he continues listening to you moan and gasp as you touch yourself. God how he wishes you were nude right now. He's nervously fidgeting as the drool starts to drip down his chin. Sweat starting to form at his brow, he loses his striped jacket, tossing it to the side with a grunt. He bites his lip and begins rolling up his sleeves, eyes never leaving you.

You suddenly stop. Beetlejuice frozen in place, with his back now hunched and leering over you, feeling completely predatory. He sees you begin to sit up and grab your pen, the scribbling now more frantic and yearning in your eyes. He quickly paces back behind you (or as well as he can pace considering his cock is now rock hard) to see what you're adding.

I mean yes, I've always felt something for him, but these past few days have been killing me! All his touching and incessant flirting! But he's a demon. Is this just a default mode for him? Is he even interested in someone like me? Would he even care for a relationship? Or would it just be about sex, I don't know if I could handle that.

Beej's excitement dwindles reading your doubts. Now replaced by feelings of yearning. Wanting to prove himself to you. He could totally do the relationship thing with you! Plus sex with love? Something this virgin demon has always wanted!

You pause to think about your last few thoughts as he looms over your shoulder. He's curious if you'll continue. Nervous eyes darting back and forth from you to the diary.

He's fallen so damn hard for you.... and now he's seeing he actually has a chance at something with you!! He doesn't want to fuck this up.

You put pen to paper again. His entire body growing stiff, shoulders rising closer to his ears and arms pinned at his sides. He's becoming explosive with tension and practically vibrating with anticipation. He wants you, and he wants you bad. In the best and worst way. Yes he wants to fuck your brains out and fantasizes about this every hour on a daily basis... but he also wants you for a loving partner. Unable to imagine his afterlife without you, and he's completely head over heels. Finally admitting the most powerful words to himself. "I love you"

He's dripping sweat and looking at you instead of the diary, terrified of what it will say. Trying to gather the strength to read it, he walks to the side to study your face for any clues first. So desperate to know if this will be good or bad news for him. But you're so focused, making it hard to get a clear read on you. With his stomach in knots, he pushes himself to see what you've written.

He nervously approaches with a slow side step towards you from behind. Getting the nerve to read more with extreme caution.. as if he's about to be struck. Tilting his head and biting his lip, he slowly leans in over your shoulder, looking down at the diary.

Ok.... I'll have to really be careful here, but willing to take a chance with him. I can't believe how badly I want this demon, but don't want to get hurt again. I need to be careful, knowing if he wants something real. But how can I find this out without being obvious? I love him. But does he love me?

Beej feels like he's about to pass out. YOU LOVE HIM?! AND HE HAS A SHOT!!!

His mind is racing! What can he do? How can he get you to be his? Now in a frantic, flustered mode. It's making him involuntarily pace around you as he watches you sit back, deep in your thoughts. Slowing to a stop, he gets down on his knees closer to you at your side. His hands placed on the arm of the couch as he gazes up at you with hopeful eyes.

"I'll show you, y/n"

A quick poof and he's gone to the Netherworld to run some errands. He has big plans for tomorrow.

Fin!

[foodsies4me]

May Malec fic rec!

Thanking @crystalmir for this month's theme which is soulmate AU's! The same rules apply as always, one fic per author, even though all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 💜

Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know (aka found on their AO3 profile), but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

Magnus, How Long Have You Been Twenty by @Master of Unlocking: A soulmate AU where you don't age past a certain age until you've met your soulmate!

Summary:

Soulmate AU where you age to about 18/21, and then you stay that age until you find your soulmate.

The Space Between by @gingersnapwolves: soulmate AU, the usual Clave being awful as well as some Alec and Magnus being badass. I don't know how often I've read and reread this fic by now.

Summary:

Every warlock has a soulmate. 98% of the time it’s another warlock, but sometimes it’s a mundane, a seelie, or even a Shadowhunter. Until their name appears on the warlock’s chest (and their corresponding soulmate’s), there’s no way to know. Enter Alec Lightwood, who wakes up at fourteen with a warlock’s name on his chest. Horrified at what it means, he keeps it hidden. But five years later, Magnus Bane is captured by a team of Shadowhunters, and it’s only a matter of time before someone sees Alec’s name on his chest.

see me light up from the rooftops by @oh-la-fraise: Short and sweet and fluffy, just the way I like it.

Summary:

“Alec,” Magnus said, his face falling. “Short for Alexander, I assume?” Alec frowned. “Yeah. Why do you look so disappointed? Are you more of an Alexi kind of guy?” Magnus smiled for a second, and Alec cheered with victory internally. “No, I just. . .Oh, it’s so stupid, and not something I should be discussing on a first date. It was an Alexander that broke my heart in Paris.” “Yeesh,” Alec winced. “Well I can promise you, not all of us are complete idiots. Which he would had to have been, to dump you.” Magnus snorted. “That’s the even sadder part—he didn’t dump me. We never even met.”

Before the Day is Done by carmenlire: Ales as a Head of the Institute but also as an author! Magnus as his kind of pen pal, the High Warlock of Brooklyn and his unknowing fan.

Summary:

Alec reads the email twice through before letting out a breath. He feels anticipation thrumming through him at the invitation and it doesn’t vanish no matter how hard he tries to shove it down. He’s looking forward to meeting Magnus in person. While there’s still some anxiety lurking underneath it all, it feels almost inevitable. Truth be told, he’s always felt drawn to the High Warlock. Magnus had been the only downworlder to acknowledge the change in leadership first. He’d been surprising magnanimous in wishing Alec a successful tenure and providing his contact information if he ran into any problems.

Who are you really? by @skylar102 : The scene of Magnus pressing Alec's lost baby blanket to his face as he realizes he finally has a soulmate after 400 lonely years makes me slightly feral.

Summary:

When your soulmate loses something it gets sent to you and vice versa. For almost 400 years Magnus thought he would never have a soulmate until one day a pacifier shows up in his loft.

all these stumbles and falls by @echo-bleu evil on the feels-front like all of Echo's fics, but what else is new. (Love you, Echo <3)

Alec has always kept his male, warlock soulmate a secret. He knows he can never have what he wants. On the eve of his wedding to Lydia, he finds himself on a warlock’s doorstep to finally break the bond, and be free to complete his duty to the Clave and his family. It will all be fine. Except that his soulmate mark is desperately clutching at his chest, shaking like a leaf, and its large golden eyes are pooling with tears. And that said mark looks exactly like a tiny version of the warlock who just answered his knock.

To Touch and Be Touched by TobytheWise: short 500-word ficlet, but still an adorable and enjoyable read nonetheless.

With a black handprint across his cheek, Alec always imagined meeting his soulmate for the first time would be a painful affair. When the day finally comes, Alec is pleasantly surprised.

Multi-chapter fics or series:

Making Memories With Mistletoe by @notcrypticbutcoy is another lovely fic by notcrypticbutcoy. There's a small amount of angst, but it's mostly a feel-good fic for me

Summary:

How was that even possible? How could Magnus’ soulmate be someone who didn’t believe in the concept? The universe had to be playing some kind of cosmic joke on him. *** When a mysterious and very attractive stranger walks into Magnus’ magic shop three weeks before Christmas, he doesn’t expect it to be his soulmate. Nor does he expect his soulmate to deny the entire concept of such a thing. Or: in which Magnus owns a magic shop, Alec doesn’t believe in soulmates, and the universe has a funny way of making things work out.

Machiavellian by @alxndrlightwoods: While a one-shot the fic is part of a series that I love even though it's dark and gory - or maybe just because? Warning (especially for the later parts) for Underage, Gore, and some very enthusiastic and graphic murder aka make sure you read the tags.

Summary:

He can see the thoughts whirling in Magnus’s brain. Magnus had managed to make it four hundred years, patiently waiting and keeping a weather eye on the Lightwood family for the majority of that. And his beautiful, perfect, wonderful soulmate hadn’t even managed to make it three years. They were disgustingly perfect for each other.

The Gift of Choice by @tinylilemrys: Soulmate AU where you can choose whether to accept or reject a soulmate (something I'm personally a huge fan of) and it's just written so well.

Summary:

Neither Alec nor Magnus is particularly thrilled at the discovery of their soul marks. Alec because he knows that the design of it means that his soulmate is a Downworlder, something practically unheard of in Shadowhunter society. For Magnus, the idea of being permanently attached to a joyless demon-killer is hardly a thrill. Given that they can choose if they accept their soulmate or not, the decision seems like a no-brainer. But when Alec finally meets the beautiful, other-worldly Magnus and Magnus meets the gorgeous, self-sacrificing Alec, it becomes clear that the decision might not be as easy as they thought it would.

it doesn't matter (if it's now or then) by @soveryaverageme: Alec knows Magnus is his soulmate. He also knows he isn't Magnus', but he's fine with it. Really.

Alec’s words were branded across his right forearm, spiraling towards his shoulder. The phrase “I’m Magnus, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced?” was stark across his skin, as bold as his own love. They were a comfort and a reminder every time he drew his bow back to fire another arrow. He knew every curve and bend of his words. He could trace them without looking. He had never seen Magnus’ words, but he knew was that they weren’t his.

Through a Glass, Darkly by SolarisRasa: Last but not least on this list, a fic that deserves more love in my opinion. Magnus creating a Veil between the Downworld and the Nephilim is such an interesting concept!

A century ago, Magnus Bane, sick of the struggles between the Downworld and the Clave, created a spell: The Veil. It separated the Downworld from the Nephilim, both sides blind to each other in the world. A red-head with demands, a sharp spike in demons, a new Head of the New York Institute, and...gardening? Draws Magnus toward the Shadowhunters world again. With his city slipping, the Clave bearing down, and the High Warlock's demand for better protection, Alec Lightwood seeks a more equal footing with the Downworld.

[heavensenthale]

feeble disguise

Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: Stiles/Derek Rating: Teen Word count: 3.7k words

Excerpt:

Idly, Stiles wondered if Derek knew the power he had over him. Stiles spent a long time crushing on Lydia, who spent years completely unaware of his existence. He was sure for Derek it was the same deal: Stiles, Scott’s more annoying shadow or something of the sort.

Stiles could only hope his crush on Derek would eventually fade into obscurity as his crush on Lydia had. Otherwise, pack gatherings would always feel slightly awkward as he tried to avoid showing just how intense his feelings were.

“You went weirdly silent over there, are you okay?” asked Derek without looking up from under the hood he was working on.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

Stiles, by now used to the pack’s ability to detect lies, slid in a half-truth, “I’m working on this piece for the school’s newspaper about the biggest polluters in the country and— you don’t wanna hear about this, do you?”

“Go ahead,” said Derek, wiping his hands on an oily rag. Then he turned to Stiles, “it’s better than the chatter on the radio.”

CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[writingsbyzuzu]

the alchemy!

chapter two!

summary: you meet hasan, and quite frankly, you aren't that impressed

sorry this one is a bit short! trying to warm back up to this series

warnings: reader is a bit of a jerk to hasan but hasan is a meathead when drunk

“I think you’d look sexier in the black one,” Blaire calls out. Janet gives a resolute nod, the two of the sprawled out on her bed. “I’m not wearing the black one,” you respond, grabbing a different dress. “Scared of attention?” Blaire asks.

“More like scared of a frat guy puking on me and being in my vicinity,” you tease, as Blaire snatches the dress from your hand. “It’s a frat party. There’s going to be frat guys. Besides, you haven’t been out with someone since Zach,” Janet points out.

You stiffen at the mention of your brief ex. “Well, excuse me, not everyone has time for a great romance like you and Kieran,” you gesture at Janet, before turning to Blaire, “and…”.

There’s a pause as you forget Blaire’s boyfriend’s name.

“Ludwig. You better remember it when you meet him in an hour. Now, you might not have time for a boyfriend, but you have time to get piped down. Everyone does. No excuses. Zach was nothing but shit sex, and you deserve better than that, so get fucking dressed.” 

You roll your eyes at her statement, but get in the bathroom to change none the less.

An hour later the girls of your friend group are standing in the Gamma Pi house, a rager already ongoing. You see Blaire drag a blond guy towards you. "Lud, these are my girls. Janet, Lydia, Lucy, Birdie, and of course, my roomie."

"Nice to meet you," he shouts over the music, taking time weirdly enough to shake each of your hands. "So you're her roommate?" he asks you. You nod in response. "Let me get you a drink as an early 'sorry' gift."

You laugh, and Blaire swats Ludwig's arm. "I like this one," you gesture at Ludwig, looking at Blaire. "Self aware and is willing to give me free drinks? Keep him."

He laughs in response, heading to grab you a drink. "Girls, let's mingle, have some fun," Janet cheers out. The rest of the girls disperse, including Blaire and Janet who head to the dance floor.

Your phone buzzes.

ellis 🎸💙: you having fun ace?

you: not really

ellis 🎸💙: of course not. you would have had more fun with people with braincells

you: lmaoooo it would be more fun with you rn

ellis 🎸💙: ;) goodnight ace

You get pulled out of your conversation with a tap on your shoulder, and turn to see...woah.

A tall, muscular dude with dark curly hair who looks like he'd be ripped straight of a romance novel.

His eyes widen slightly at looking at you, before shaking his head slightly.

"Has anyone gotten you a drink?" he yells over the music. You nod, and he looks for something to say. "Can I get you one anyways?"

"No thanks." You give him a look. You would rather get one yourself, you only accepted one from Ludwig because you know Blaire would rip him into shreds if anything happened to you that he caused. Why would you accept one from this sexy stranger?

"Who are you here with? You don't look like anyone's girlfriend or sister or anyone," he asks, looking around. "You're too cute to be alone."

"1, I think you wouldn't be able to tell if I was either of those things. Genetics are weird, and for all you know, my date's in the bathroom."

He raises an eyebrow, and you can tell he's not convinced. "What's number 2?" You couldn't tell yet if you hated his voice or not, but his persistence on conversation was annoying you.

"I'm Ludwig's girlfriend's roommate."

"Oh the blonde girl!" You wrinkled your nose at that. Blaire was many things, a lovely roommate and friend, and to be reduced to just "that blonde girl" pissed you to no end. You definitely did not like Mr. Romance Frat Boy now.

"Yeah," you say, as Ludwig comes back with your drink. Thank fucking god, you were being put out of your misery. "I see you met my roommate," Ludwig cheerfully announces. Wait... what?

"This is Hasan, roommate and best friend. Hasan, this is my girlfriend's roommate."

You groan internally. This means a lot more interactions with this meathead. They keep chatting, but Hasan keeps looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

Blaire is dancing with Janet on the dance floor. She sees you, looking uncomfortable as hell talking to the guys, and gestures for you to come over.

"I see you met Hasan, what do you think?" she asks it in a tone you know all too well. You groan. "Not a chance in hell."

"We'll see about that," Blaire winks. "Now dance with us," Janet pleads. So you do.

The meathead never stops staring at you for the rest of the night.

After the party dies down, Blaire says goodbye to Ludwig on the Gamma Pi porch. You and Janet wait for her at the bottom of the steps, rolling your eyes at how corny they were being.

Kieran and Markus pull up in Kieran's car. Markus stares straight head, trying to not look at Blaire actively tongue wrestling Ludwig.

Kieran, seeing his best friend in anguish, honks his horn. Blaire finally separates from Ludwig with a disgusting pop, and bounds down the stairs. As the two of you walk down the path to the car, you hear the door behind you.

"I didn't get your actual name," Hasan calls out. The guys turn to look at Hasan, as Blaire and Janet open the rear doors of the car and clammer in.

You stand there for a second, before turning to look at him.

"That's because I didn't give it to you."

"Oh." He raises his eyebrows into that stupid expression again, before talking once more. "Okay then. See you around...tiny dancer."

You roll your eyes once more, getting into the car. When you get back to Murphy Hall, you and Blaire crash on your beds.

"What did you think of Hasan?"

"He's a meathead. I could not possibly ever be interested in a guy like that, no matter how hot he is."

"So you think he's hot?" She lifted her head to smirk at you.

"Goodnight, Blaire." You shut off the light.

Goddamn meathead.

[evewritingsteve]

wrong place, wrong time

jesse pinkman x reader warnings: kidnapping, normal breaking bad stuff

summary: You are Lydia's daughter, and just so happen to be kidnapped by Mike. Takes place in the episode before they do the train heist

note: not my best but i needed to get this concept out of my head, enjoy xx

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“Well Lydia, we’ve got the kid so I suggest you come out of hiding and talk this out like the adults we are. You got 4 hours to get over here or little miss y/n gets to meet an unpleasant end. Your choice.” You hear the man hang up the phone, sighing a little. “Well y/n, let’s hope your mother has a little empathy for her secret daughter.” 

You’d reply, and say you weren’t really a secret, just the result of a teen pregnancy, but the gag in your mouth unfortunately stifled any smart remarks. Maybe it was for the best, you didn’t have the best danger meter. Opening your mouth would probably get you hurt. 

But you weren’t hurt, surprisingly, despite the circumstances. Being kidnapped automatically brought your brain to violence, but so far, they hadn’t been overly rough. Certainly not nice, but no harm had been done. You thanked whoever was listening for that. You were hoping this was all for ransom, that your mom would pay, you’d walk out of this fine, and this whole thing would be a terrific story to take back to graduate school. 

Hopefully. 

You were bound to a chair, rope chafing your arms and legs. You wiggled again, hoping for some give. From what you gathered about the kidnappers, they were old as shit. One sounded too anxious and the other just sounded annoyed. At first you had been terrified, but as the adrenaline wore off you felt yourself growing more annoyed than anything. 

You’d been in the chair for hours, and the phone call the first man made was one of the first times you had heard them speak in hours. You were bored. You’d think being kidnapped would be more action and less anxious waiting. Not that you were complaining. 

You hear a door open and steps making their way closer. 

“Yo who the fuck is this?” A younger male voice cuts through the silence. 

Another one? Jesus. 

“Change of plans,” the annoyed older man speaks and you desperately try to see through the cloth covering your eyes. “Can’t find Lydia but her daughter was there so now here we are.” 

“Her daughter? What yo we’re fucking kidnapping random people now?” 

“Jessie!” The anxious one yells and the room goes silent. 

“Both of you, outside, now.” 

So the younger one was Jessie. You definitely weren’t supposed to know that. You hear them leave and somehow the silence is scarier now than when they were in the room. You close your eyes. God mom, you better have a ransom money stash. 

-

“What the hell was that? Saying Jessie’s name? You’re going to get us caught Walter!” Mike jabs his finger into Walt’s chest, fuming. 

“I didn’t ask to kidnap an innocent college student Mike! This- this is insane! What are we doing?” 

“Yeah what are we doing?” Jessie throws his hands up, still clueless. 

“Lydia planted that tracker on the methylamine. When I went to her house to have a little talk Lydia was gone. She knew I was onto her and decided to run, but her daughter just so happened to be there. I’ve dealt with Lydia before. She’s skittish. So we take her daughter to get her to come talk to us so we can put an end to this ordeal.” 

“So what, this chick is our hostage now or what?” 

“Yes Jesse. As soon as Lydia gets here we’ll cut her loose and deal with the real problem. The kid is just collateral that we have to deal with now. As long as she doesn’t see our faces this doesn’t have to end with anybody’s death but Lydia’s. Capisce?” 

“Fuck. Alright I guess.” Jessie puts his hands on his head, following Mike when he gestures for them to go back in. 

When they open the door, they all stop. Lydia was already there, undoing the last rope holding you to the chair. You both stop and look up when you hear the door, slightly panicked. 

So much for the blind. 

“Mike what the hell? My daughter?” Lydia stands, helping you do the same. Your eyes are wide as you scan the 3 men’s faces, growing more confused by the minute. Your mom knew these people? What the fuck is she involved with? 

The one that you’re going to assume is Mike, makes his way over to your mom, grabbing her arm and throwing her on to the chair you were previously occupying, dragging her and the chair to a nearby table. You jump out of the way, Mike ignoring your mom’s protests, pulling out handcuffs and locking her to the table. 

“You,” He points at you, grabbing the gun on his waistband, “Stand next to her and don’t move or I swear it’ll be your last.” 

You make your way over, giving your mom a questioning and slightly terrified look. 

“Jesus Lydia you just had to make this harder on me.” 

“Mike we can talk this out but let my daughter go. I didn’t plant that tracker, I swear to God, she knows nothing of this just please, let her leave.” 

“Mom-” 

“She’s seen our faces, Mike, we can’t just let her go with that information!” The other older man speaks up. The younger one puts his head in his hands. It seemed clear to you that he was dragged into this, and for some reason that put you at ease a bit. They all begin to argue with each other, and you glance at your mom again. 

“She’ll get on a plane right now.” 

They all pause. 

“She’s doing graduate school abroad, she can get on a plane right now and be out of the country in a few hours. Please Mike, she barely knows anything right now, definitely not enough to put you guys away. Just, please Mike.” 

“Mom I can’t leave yo-” 

“Shut up Lydia.” Mike thinks for a while. He didn’t want to kill you. He saw his granddaughter in you and knows he would never forgive himself if he had to kill you to save himself. It was risky, but something told him you really wouldn’t say anything. 

“Alright Lydia. We’ll take her to the airport. But you need to understand one thing,” he turns to you, “I have people everywhere y/n. The second you open your mouth, I’ll know. And then it’s game over for you and everyone you love.” 

You think of your little sister and suddenly realize you’re going to have to take this to the grave. Not that you even knew the entire story, it felt like you walked into the middle of a show and missed all the important parts. But still. Silence was the only answer. 

You simply nod your head in response. 

“Jessie, I would like you to take this young lady to the airport, buy yourself a ticket so you can wait at the gate with her and make sure she gets on the plane. Come back here after. Lydia, you’re gonna make a little call for us.” Mike tosses Jessie the keys, along with a pair of handcuffs. 

“Are these for her?” He gestures to the handcuffs and then to me. If it weren’t for the situation at hand, you might have blushed. 

Mike gives him a look and Jessie almost rolls his eyes. “Alright man shit.” 

He makes his way over to you, mumbling an apology that confuses you even more. It seemed like Mike was the only serious one here, the other two almost acted like they were hostages too. You feel the handcuffs tighten, and you give your mom a final glance. 

“Mom?” 

“It’ll be okay I’ll call okay?” A pit sits in your stomach at the expression on her face, so you try to give her a small smile, not trusting your voice. You really hope she didn’t get herself into something she can’t control. Jessie gives you a small nudge and you can’t fight the tears that fill your eyes. 

-

Once you’re in the car, Jesse says something about the handcuffs looking suspicious and takes them off. You grab at your wrists and flinch as the car is locked from the inside. At this point reality was setting in hard. Now that your safety seemed more or less intact, you were nauseous over the thought of your mom still down there for God knows what. 

The car starts moving and your breathing becomes shallow. Jesse takes notice and steals a glance at you. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright okay?” It didn’t even sound like he believed his own words. 

“What the fuck.” Is all you can reply. “What the actual fuck?” You laugh a little, about to go into hysterics over the entire thing. 

Jessie looks at you, even more concerned. He had been through some shit and the only time he laughed was when he was really about to lose it. You're trying to control your breathing, and he feels bad, but he can’t help but notice how pretty you are. He can’t believe that you somehow got wrapped into this. It didn’t seem right. He feels horrible. 

At this point you're no longer laughing, just sniffling and trying to stop yourself from sobbing. 

“What are they going to do to my mom?” You look at Jessie. You were never close with your mom, she was distant and cold but always provided for you. She was your mom at the end of the day. Despite being in boarding schools most of your childhood, she was always there when you came home to visit. She couldn’t just be taken from you like that. “What about my sister? What will she do?” 

“You have a sister?” He sounds surprised. You faintly wonder if you should just shut your mouth, and not volunteer anymore information, but some part of you feels like Jessie isn’t going to use this information maliciously. Still, you don’t respond. 

“Listen, I promise nothing will happen to your mom.” 

“How can you possibly promise that?” 

He goes silent and you realize that he probably can’t make that promise. 

The rest of the car ride is silent and you spend some of it observing him. He seems almost shy, despite the rough exterior and style he possesses. For a split second, you wonder if, in different circumstances, you two would have crossed paths and been friends. Maybe flirted. The reasonable part of your brain stomps that out, and politely reminds you that he was somehow involved in your kidnapping. 

The car rolls to a stop at the drop off spot. Once again, you’re confused. 

“Don’t you have to come in with me? You can’t park here.” 

He looks at you, slightly startled. He half expected you to jump out of the car and run to the nearest security guard. He spent half the ride preparing for his life to be over because of the pretty daughter of a criminal. “Oh, uh, I guess I didn’t think of that.” 

You stare at him for a beat. 

“I won’t run to tell anyone. Honestly getting out of America as soon as I can sounds nice right now for what it’s worth.” 

He turns in the driver's seat, fully looking at you for the first time. 

“I know.” 

“You believe me?” 

“I’m a shit kidnapper huh?” 

Despite the situation, you find yourself laughing a little. 

“Sort of.” 

You both sit for a minute until he raises a hand to scratch his head sheepishly. “Look uh, you can just go. I think it’ll be weird if I buy a ticket and don’t get on the plane.” 

You looked at him, shocked that he was actually agreeing to let you go.

“Oh, okay,” you go to open the door, pausing to look at him one last time. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a real bad guy. It just seems like you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.” You give him a small smile, leaving without waiting for a response. 

You run across the street, nearly missing an impatient car. You feel like you’re on autopilot as you step through the automatic doors, trying to find the nearest help desk to book a flight. Your brain was in override, trying to make sense of everything that happened. You only hoped that once you landed, your mom would answer the phone and everything would be okay. 

You almost gave in when you saw a security personnel walking by, but thought of Jessie. You couldn’t explain it, but you knew going to the authorities would somehow cause more harm than good. You only hoped that Jessie’s sincerity was real. 

-

Jessie watched as you ran to the doors, seeming more dazed than scared like he imagined you should be. He didn’t understand your final words to him, he was implicated in your fucking kidnapping for fucks sake. But there you were, saying that he wasn’t a bad guy. A car honked behind him, pulling him from his thoughts. He put the car in gear, making his way back to the shitshow he really didn’t want a part of. 

He picks his phone up when he hears the familiar ringtone. 

“Yo.” 

“Jessie, is she gone?” 

“Yeah, we’re good. What’s going on?” 

“We have to rob a train.” 

Oh fuck. 

-

reblog, like, tell your momma (aka me)

[maracujatangerine]

Collaboration

CW: institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

Lydia glanced through her notes once again, dark green ink on white paper detailing her plans for the event and some of the questions she wanted to ask.

The book on the desk in front of her had a glossy photo of a shaggy billy goat on the cover, the animal’s strange eyes meeting the observer’s with amused intelligence. The curve of his massive horns matched almost perfectly the outline of the mountain ridge behind him. It seemed almost impossible to capture such a moment and yet the whole book was filled with similarly impressive photography. Lydia’s personal favourite was a photo of a hawk diving in front of a waterfall, the whole image misty and fluid like a dream.

It was quite a coup, Lydia felt, to have snagged such a famous photographer to take part in an event at her shop. There would be two local nature photographers that would take part in person, and then a digital presentation by Decima de Mares. She felt slightly nervous, what she had heard was that Decima was a bit… peculiar. She hoped that the conversation would go well.

*

“I will have an interview soon” said Miss, taking unfolded clothes and throwing them on the bed. “And I think this should look like it’s clean in there”

“Can I stay there, Miss?” Juli asked anxiously.

“I suppose you could, why? Are you interested in the interview?”

“I just wanna to be in the same place as you” Juli said honestly

“That’s sweet.”

*

With a deep breath, Lydia opened the meeting app and smiled her most charming smile at the person on the other side of the screen.

“Hi! I’m Lydia Winterthorpe. Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me.”

“No problem, it’s an opportunity for me too. I hope the camera is not picking up the mess in my room” Decima joked.

The conversation went smoothly after that.

“So what was your own favourite photo?” Lydia asked.

“I think it was one of the old castle. We do not know who built it, we only know a rough date of when it happened. By now there are only a few walls left and rain caused it to become some sort of a lake… a lake inside something that was once a luxurious living space. I think it’s very poetic. It’s also a special place for me. ”

A sudden movement in the corner of the screen caught Lydia’s eye. A glimpse of light brown fur against the photographer’s white wrist. Then she saw it again and smiled to herself.

“Sorry Miss Decima,” she said, “I lost my thread a bit, I just saw your cat waving its tail.”

“Oh no.” The pale woman smiled, too. “It is my pet, but he’s no cat. Even though he does knock things out of counters sometimes. Come on up and say hi, Juli.”

A short moment of silence.

“I said to say hello” Decima repeated. Was she angry? Or trying to force her pet to do something he didn’t want to?

A young man with a shock of light brown hair and grey eyes shyly raised his head. Lydia felt her blood run cold when she saw the collar around his neck.

*

For most of the interview Juli was just hidden away from the camera, enjoying the pats, and not paying much attention to what was going on around him. He was just wondering whether or not jelly could be classified as a soup. It was made by putting something in hot water after all. But the end result is solid, not liquid, so…

“...Juli”

He heard his name, pulling him away from his silly thoughts.

He made eye contact with Miss and she understood that he didn’t hear her, so she patiently repeated herself. She wasn’t even annoyed with him not listening and once again Juli was reminded how kind she was.

*

“Uhm, hello Miss Winterthrope… pleasure to meet you” said the boy awkwardly. “I’m sorry for interrupting, uhh…” he looked at Decima, like to check if he’s not saying anything wrong“... I hope my presence is not bothering you”

“No, that is totally fine.” Lydia smiled. “I’m glad to meet you, Juli.”

What kind of pet owner is she? Lydia wondered quietly to herself. Out loud, she asked.

“Have you been living with Decima for a long time?”

“Not yet, but… I hope I will” said the boy.

“That’s nice.” Does he say it because he feels like he has to? Or because she’s actually nice to him? Lydia thought to herself. And who am I to judge? Buying a pet yourself doesn’t exactly give you the moral high ground, does it?

”So, as we discussed earlier, I’m thinking it would be good if you give a presentation for around 30 minutes, and then we’ll open the floor to the public and everyone will have the chance to ask some questions.” Lydia made an effort to return to the topic of the meeting. “Does that still sound like a plan?”

As the blue-haired photographer assented, Lydia surreptitiously studied the pet. He seemed… fine. Clean, not injured, a bit on the thin side, perhaps.

”That sounds like it will be a very good set-up.” Decima said. “I’m looking forward to hearing from the other photographers as well, it is always nice to get some new perspectives.”

She smiled down at Juli kneeling by her side. “I haven’t been able to go to any conferences lately, so I really appreciate the chance to participate online. I got Juli somewhat by chance, and he didn’t have a great time in his previous life. I want him to get more comfortable with being on his own before I go away again.”

“Oh, I see.” Subconscious recognition clicked into place in Lydia’s mind. The way Juli looked at Decima reminded her of the way Coriander had been looking at her when he first came. She smiled, genuinely this time. Her brown eyes glittered. “I know what that’s like, actually.”

Raising her voice slightly, she called out. “Cory, would you like to come in and introduce yourself?”

*

After a moment, the sound of a door opening and closing could be heard. A pet with blonde hair appeared on the screen. He looked… pretty. He was of the kind that rich people would show off and he had no scars on his face.

Juli suddenly felt nervous.

Even though they both were pets the one on the other side on the screen looked so much more… proper. What if he would notice every mistake Juli makes and point it out and then Miss would be embarrassed, because she can’t even keep one pet in line?

“It's a pleasure to meet you. T-this pet’s name is Coriander.” When he raised a hand in greeting, Juli could see scarring all around his wrist.

“Nice to meet you, Coriander” said Miss.

“This is Decima and Juli.” Miss Lydia explained. “She is the photographer I told you about.” The brunette held up Miss Decima’s book to the pet, who smiled.

“Y-you have created a beautiful book, Miss Decima.” He said. “Miss Lydia has shown it to t-his pet.”

“Thank you.” Miss smiled. “We just talked about which photos we like the best, did you have a favourite picture?”

It was subtle, but Juli caught the way the other pet glanced at Miss Lydia. When she nodded encouragingly, Coriander continued.

“T-this pet l-liked the photo with the field of sunflowers against the mountain. T-the light w-was a-amazing.” Quickly, he added. “B-but all the photos were beautiful.”

“That is one of my favourites, as well.” Miss said.

“What about Juli?” Miss Lydia asked. “Which photo did you like the best?”

“My favourite is from… not from this book, there is another one with fishies and… can I bring it there?”

“Go ahead, we’ll wait.”

Juli disappeared for a while and came back carrying a book in a hard, black cover. He opened it on one page and turned it to the camera. There was a seahorse, visible sunrays crossing the water and scattering on the animal’s skin.

“I liked it very much and because it’s cute and I even was gifted plush seahorse, because I liked it so much”

”That is gorgeous!” Miss Lydia said. “I understand why that is your favourite.”

“I-it is beautiful.” Cory agreed.

“Well,” Miss Lydia said, “thank you for the meeting. It was really nice to talk with both of you. I think we have a good plan in place, Decima, but let’s meet on Wednesday and make the final decisions.”

“N-nice to meet you, Miss Decima, Juli.”

“Likewise.”

*

This post is a collaboration between @octopus-reactivated and @maracujatangerine. It is part of the 2023 BBU Community Days organised by @bbu-on-the-side. This is our joint entry for day 15: Collaboration.

*

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[queen-scribbles]

It’s Cold Outside

*shows up four five years late with the follow up fic to Let It Snow* HOLY COW, it’s finally done! \o/ Cribbing another Christmas song for the title bc I think I’m funny(especially bc the way this plays out is... pretty much the opposite of the song xD) ---- The snow had reached Brighthollow’s first floor windows and was still coming.

“Okay, I like snow, but this is getting ridiculous,” Adela commented, staring out the window. “It’s not as fun once it passes knee-deep. Then it starts being annoying.”

Heodan looked up from his book and smiled, “For growing up somewhere you said doesn’t get a lot of snow, you certainly seem to have strong opinions on it.”

“We don’t get a lot,” she said with a confirming nod. “That’s different from not getting any.” She raised an eyebrow pointedly in his direction.

“Adi, I have no strong opinion on snow,” he pointed out. “Cold in general I’m not overly fond of, but snow I don’t really care one way or the other.”

Adela grinned and crossed to flop on the couch near the fire, noting his chair was even closer to the warmth. “This an Aedyran thing?” she teased, folding her legs under her. “Increased sensitivity to cold?”

It was Heodan’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “We don’t all have fur, Adi.”

Her ears twitched as she laughed. “Touché. And I do know what Aedyr’s like. Aloth’s probably thanking the gods for thick stone walls right about now.”

“And fireplaces,” Heodan added.

“I think we’re all grateful for those.” Adela shifted, pulling her knees into her chest and resting her chin atop them. “No matter how adjusted we might be to the cold.” She smirked at a memory. “Even when you’ve had bad experiences with them a couple times....”

Heodan closed his book and leaned forward. “Do I want to know the story prompting that smile?”

“Oh, it’s nothing bad, and only slightly embarrassing.” She picked at the engraving lines on her necklace. “Ben, my oldest brother, is a baker, and he experiments with other cooking stuff in his free time. He’s really, really good, too. But, y’know, with him liking to cook and spending so much time around fire--ovens and fireplaces both--stuff’s bound to happen.” She bit back a smile at the Uh-oh in Heodan’s eyes. “The week before he got married, he singed off his eyebrows and half the fur on one arm b’cause he dropped a pot and leaned to pick it up without checking how close to the fire it was. He wasn’t hurt, but the kitchen smelled like burned hair for three days and me an’ Sirra teased him about it for months.”

He chuckled. “Poor Ben. What did he do to deserve such a scamp of a sister?”

“Oh, he gets me back,” Adela assured him wryly. “He calls me Cricket when he’s annoyed at me, b’cause I’m always getting cricks in my neck from reading for too long in one position.” She hugged her knees closer and bit her lip.  “How  ‘bout you? Any mildly embarrassing stories about your brothers?”

Heodan smiled as he pondered, fingers drumming the cover of his book. “A few... Before the family business picked up and started making decent money, Gyran and Lyam had to share a bedroom. One time when they were teenagers, Lyam walked in without knocking and caught Gyran and Lydia in the middle of what turned out to be their first kiss.”

She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, no.”

He shook his head. “I’m not finished. Lyam made some smart comment--none of them ever shared what, exactly, he said--and Gyran spent the next ten minutes chasing him around the house with the express intention of tossing him out a window.”

Adela giggled, looking into the fire. “I think I’m with Gyran; first kisses are awkward enough without an accidental sibling interruption.”

He moved from his chair to the couch and raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “That sounds like the voice of experience.”

“With first kiss awkwardness, yes,” she admitted, face hot from more than just the fire. “Thankfully not with sibling interruption making it worse. I would also have thrown them in a pond or out a window. Fortunately, it was under circumstances where interruption was unlikely.”

“Oh?” No sooner had the word left his mouth than Heodan blushed and shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not.... not trying to pry.”

“It’s alright,” Adela laughed. She tucked loose hair back behind her ear. “It was a typical teenager thing” --she waved a hand vaguely in his direction-- “like your brother. Only mine was just a boy from school I’d been sweet on. I found out he was sweet on me, too, when we were working together researching Old Vailia for a history assignment. We needed a lot of old books and such that were in the back part of the library, very musty, a little creepy, where most people didn’t go unless they had to. Toward the end of our research, Xen said he thought I was very smart--and very pretty, and asked if he could kiss me.” She smiled and bit her lip. “After giggling like an absolute idiot for several seconds, I said yes and he did. I was so happy and flustered, I almost forgot my books when I went home.” She sighed, rubbed her elephant pendent. “Unlike Gyran and Lydia, nothing ever came of it, though.”

“Why not?” Heodan sounded almost indignant on her behalf, which made her heart flutter.

“Oh, it wasn’t by his choice,” she said with a rueful smile. “There was a rash of illness that worked its way through our town, and since his father was a priest and his mother was an herbalist, and orlans are responsible for all wrongs that befall folk, clearly it was their fault. They got run out of town. Despite protests from many, orlan and folk, that they were helpers and healers and would never hurt anyone. Prejudice is a powerful influence, and it won out. The illness continued sweeping around for another month and then died out on its own.”

“Well, that’s terrible,” he said, brow furrowed. “Did anyone apologize for the incorrect assumption...?”

“No, they all found ways to justify being suspicious, or pointed out there was no one to apologize to since Xen’s family had left....” Adela chuckled a little at his affronted expression. “Heodan, that’s the way it works for orlans pretty much everywhere. In fact, Necazoa was one of the better places in Ixamitl. Which is better than a lot of other places, like the Dyrwood.” She reached over and squeezed his knee. “Not everyone is as nice and accepting as you.”

That’s part of why I like you, she added to herself.

He made a noise of reluctant concession and gave her a wry smile. “According to you, my being so nice is why I’m here, all the way across the ocean, rather than one of my brothers.”

“I’m still allowed to be glad you’re here, even being pretty sure you got the short straw because you wouldn’t tell your family no,” Adela said with a laugh.

Heodan studied her face for a moment, gleam of firelight dancing in his eyes.  “Who says I see it as the short straw?” he asked. “I like it here, Adi. I’m glad I met- all of you, got to have a bit of adventure--”

“Even if more than originally planned?” she cut in wryly.

“Even so.” He flexed the hand of his injured arm and smiled. “My nephews think I’m just about the most interesting person in the world, according to Gyran’s last letter.”

“Oh?” Adela smiled, playing with the tail of her braid.

“You, of course, are the most interesting, since you’re the leader,” Heodan clarified with an answering smile, which made her laugh.

“Well, you can tell them I’m flattered,” she said. She let her legs relax down, feet dangling over the floor, and shivered a little even if the fire was plenty warm. “You write your family about me, huh?” she teased, even as the thought made her insides do a funny little flip.

Was it her imagination or did his face go slightly pink at the needling? The firelight made it hard to tell. “They like to hear what I’m doing. You’ve been there for... everything since Echo Bay,” Heodan teased back. “It would be difficult not to mention you.”

Adela giggled, then winced. “Did they worry about the, um, gap? After Cail?” After you almost died.

He shook his head. “I had written right before we went to Searing Falls. By the time I needed to write again, I’d recovered enough to do so.”

“Did you tell them about--”

“Fighting a drake? Yes. How badly that ended for me? No. I didn’t see a point making them worry from a thousand miles away. Especially since by that point I was on the mend, and-” he reached over to flick her bangs out of her eyes “-I’m fine now.”

She supposed she saw the sense of that. There were few better things than hearing (or reading) ‘by the way, I almost got killed fighting a drake, but I’m alright now’ to give parents an anxiety attack. And she was careful with phrasing in some of her letters home, even without any calls that close herself. “So if you ever go home to visit, or they come here, they get to just be surprised you have an arm that doesn’t fully work anymore and some dashing new scars?”

Heodan arched a brow at her for the last bit of the glib comment. “I’ll worry about that when I need to, Adi,” he said, glancing toward the window. “I think our current worry needs to be sleeping arrangements.” 

She hadn’t even realized how dark it was getting. The overcast sky and still-falling snow had thrown her off. “Did you have any thoughts?” she asked, standing on the couch to peer out the window and try to gauge how how late it was. 

“If you have a spare quilt or blanket--or both--” he gave a self-deprecating laugh-- “I can sleep right here--”

“No!” Adela cleared her throat. “I mean, yes, there’s plenty of blankets and quilts, in the others rooms if not here, but.” She turned and crossed her arms, eye level with him thanks to standing on the couch. “The bed is more than big enough for two kith, Heodan.” Especially when one’s my size. “We can each wrap in separate blankets if you’re worried about propriety” --Not that I think you’d do anything-- “and this is not a terribly comfortable couch for sleeping on. So unless you truly want to sleep this close to the fire...?” She arched a brow, waiting, and Heodan just shrugged. “We’re both sleeping on the bed.”

He chuckled. “Far be it from me to resist such a passionate argument. You win, Adela. Where are the blankets?”

“There’s some in the closet, but those are mostly the out-of-season ones; the lighter spring duvets or sheets. One of us might do better to raid one of the other bedrooms.”

Heodan pushed to his feet. “Let me go see...”

Adela hopped down from the couch as he walked from the room and banked the fire so it would burn down slowly and keep them warm as long as possible, while still being safe through the night. Then she went to the closet and dug out the satchel of preserved foodstuffs she’d kept for snacking purposes before they relocated to the warmer--sturdier--keep for the winter. When she left it here she figured it would be for days using the room for peace and quiet, not because she got snowed in. But it was still good and that was all that mattered.

Heodan returned with three blankets piled in his arms. “I figured it would be easier to partially remake beds than fold things right to go back in storage.”

“And I’d agree with you on that,” she said with a laugh. “Dinner is gonna be like camping, I’m afraid.” A gesture at the jerky, dried fruit, and nuts from her stash.

“Only much better protected from the elements.” He dropped the blankets on the bed and joined her to eat. “I guess we need to be careful, since we don’t know how long we’ll be in here?”

Adela wrinkled her nose and glanced out the window. “Probably. Though if it gets too dire we can try for the main keep...”

Heodan followed her gaze with a dubious look. “Adi, it’ll be drifted higher than your head by morning. I’d have to carry you.”

“That’s why I said if it gets too dire.” She chewed on a handful of nuts, her heart doing a little flip at the thought of him carrying her. “Long as we’re alright, better to stay put and hope it clears up.”

He nodded and they finished in silence.

Silence that gave Adela time to actually think about what she’d insisted on in a blaze of impassioned indignation. You are not sleeping on the couch. They would both be on the bed. She and Heodan would be sharing the bed. He’d be right there.

Oh, stop it, Adi, she scolded herself. It’s not the first time.

But Gilded Vale had been a lifetime ago; her crush a small and flickering thing rather than a blaze in her chest. Even with them bundled individually in blankets, she wasn’t sure how well she’d sleep with him so close.

She counted her bites, chewing slowly. Not delaying. Lost in thought. How to act normal.

Heodan picked up on something from her behavior. “Adi, if you’re not comfortable sharing, I really w-”

“No! No, it’s fine.” She was hot enough to wonder if her fur was singed. “Just lost in thought. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Because you just said it’s fine twice in as many sentences.” 

“B’cause it is, I promise.” She stood and brushed crumbs off her dress, giving him a teasing smile. “I’ll even let you have the side closer to the fire; I know how you Aedyrans are about cold. And I have fur.”

He sighed but looked convinced. “If you’re sure.”

They each selected blankets and bundled themselves up in addition to the warm green and white quilt on the bed. 

“I apologize in advance if I steal the blankets,” Heodan said with a sheepish chuckle. “Just know it’s unintentional.”

“Noted,” Adela laughed. “And I forgive you in advance. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

They settled in, back to back with a small gap between them, and silence fell as they tried to get to sleep.

“Heodan?” Adela mumbled after a few minutes, only half-awake.

“Mm?” He sounded even more asleep than she was.

“If you finished that s’pply order you were workin’ on, I can just take it to Defiance Bay when I go for the hearings. Y’don’t need to bother a courier.”

There was a long pause, probably him wondering what made her think of--and bring up--the matter now. “We’ll see. It’s not bothering them if it’s their job.” The mattress creaked, as if he turned to look at her, but she was still facing the wall. “B’sides, I don’t think anyone’s going anywhere for a bit.”

“True.”

This time, the silence remained as it settled over them, and it wasn’t long before she heard his breathing deepen in sleep. It didn’t take long for her to follow suit.

---

It was warm when she woke. Warm and dark.

Adela blinked and rubbed her eyes and quickly figured out the dark part was thanks to burrowing almost completely under the blankets. Warm took a moment longer to register--she was curled in a ball against Heodan’s back.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise; she was inclined to seek out heat sources in her sleep. But under the circumstances, it had her bolting upright, blinking herself awake with heart pounding furiously.

“Morning,” Heodan said, voice rife with amusement.

Oh, wonderful, as if this wasn’t embarrassing enough, he was already awake. “Mornin’,” Adela mumbled around a yawn.

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” he asked as he rolled on his back. He seemed perfectly happy to stay ensconced in the blankets and looking up at her.

“...I have been told that, yes.” She raked her hair out of her face. She’d forgotten to take out her braid last night and it was in shambles right now. “I don’t suppose I said anything useful, like unsnarling that spell composition that’s been giving me and Aloth fits for a week straight, did I?”

Heodan chuckled. “Not that I heard. Mostly gibberish, with what I think were your siblings’ names occasionally thrown in?” He gave her a searching look. “But it was normal gibberish, so... no Watcher dreams?”

It hit her like a thunderclap as soon as he asked. “No.” They’d been getting worse (Edér shaking her awake, joking about buckets of water worse) for a couple months, and they’d left her alone last night. “You must be magic,” she teased, which made him snort a laugh as he sat up.

“Hardly.” Heodan stretched, shaking free of the blankets. “Does that mean you got a good night’s sleep?”

She nodded, undoing her braid to replait. “For once. Sorry that I, uh, got in your space.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said with a reassuring smile. “The extra warmth was nice, once the fire started dying.”

“Oh!” Adela tied off the half-done braid and scrambled over him, out of bed, to stoke the embers back to life.

Heodan had made it out of bed by the time she succeeded, his focus out the window. “Still snowing,” he commented, nodding that direction.

“Wael’s eyes, really?!” She followed his gaze to see yes, really. “We’ll be here a while, then, I suppose.”

“At least we have plenty to do,” he said with a smile. “And you’re good company.”

“See if you still think that when I go stir-crazy,” she deadpanned. Which might be by the end of the day, depending on if I find interesting enough books. “But you are, too. Good company, I mean.”

His smile widened as he retrieved food for breakfast and her heart skipped a beat in response. Good enough she had no idea how--or if--she was going to keep certain things from spilling into the open.

But it looked like she was about to find out.

[obsessive-ego]

Sleep talk

Musical Beetlejuice x reader ramble

SLIGHTLY nsft, crude language, mention if reader having a vagina

you accidentally summon beetlejuice while talking inyour sleep

It's been about a week since you've hung out with beetlejuice, he spent his time away by hanging out with the deetz and maitlands, you didn't mind, you were the type to enjoy your alone quiet time, get some chores done and enjoy some terrible anime.

You did miss the smart mouthed demon, but you weren't the type to just summon him out of the blue, even though beetlejuice has told you countless times, even begged you to summon him anytime you wanted, you still felt odd about it, not wanting to interrupt him if he was doing something important, Lydia would normally text you when he wanted to visit, it was like you 2 shared custody over him or something.

As much as you missed his rotten remarks and lewd jokes, you wanted to enjoy this alone time as much as you could. With beetlejuice being away from your home you had opportunities to get other personal stuff taken care of and boy were you not gonna let that slip by.

Going to bed in a quiet home was nice, but you still missed him, missed how he would sneak into bed with you, missed his strong arms around your waist while you slept, missed the rush of embarrassment waking up next to his stupid smug grin.

And with those thoughts bouncing around your skull it was no surprise that you dreamt about him, and that's were the trouble started.

You didn't often talk in your slept, once in a blue moon at most, tossing and turning you mumble in your sleep, quiet but clear enough to be understood.

"Beetlejuice..... beetlejuice..... beetlejuice"

With a puff of green smoke he was there

"Oh ho kinda late babes, but I'm up for a late night booty call if you- oh"

You were asleep, like dead asleep, beetlejuice was confused, you couldnt have summoned him right? But you live alone, so...

Beetlejuice covers his mouth not wanting to wake you, because holy shit, YOU SUMMONED HIM IN YOUR SLEEP

You manged to say his name, 3 times in a row, spoken, unbroken, in your sleep, this was just too good.

Not that you could see but his hair was now a beautiful mix if bright green and soft pink, his favourite breather is dreaming about him, was it a nice juicy wet dream? Did you dream of him breaking that pussy of yours? The demon's mind was running wild of all the possibilities of what you could be dreaming of to make you say his name, beetlejuice plopped his bum down on the corner of the bed, the ghoul sat there all night watching you sleep in hopes of hearing more sweet sleepy words, in hopes something spicy slips out

Waking up in the morning you scream in surprise, your shriek made the demon jump up off the bed, he chuckles a soft 'good morning'

"What are you doing here?!"

Beetlejuice chuckles "morning tootsie pop, you summoned me"

You knit your eyebrows, trying desperately to remember if you actually did

Beetlejuice could only smile at this, this was going to be so good.

"Well sweet cheeks, you did, just not on purpose~" he cooes

You frown at this, you know this tone.

"You, my sweet little breather, called my name 3 times in a row in your sleep" beetlejuice plops down on the bed next to you, booping your nose "you dream about me often doll? Moaning out my name in your sleep, now what kind of dream would be causing that?~" at this point the demon's face was inches from yours, he could probably feel the heat radiating from your red face.

"Oh babes, your silence speaks volumes~"

You push the ghoul away muttering out how you dont remember your dream and he only laughs at your embarrassment.

"Please leave"

Beetlejuice ignores your request, as he always does, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his scratchy beard against your neck, you shiver at the sensation "Come on babes, we both know you remember, what were you dreaming about?~"

He would get like this to annoy you into talking, and it always worked.

"It wasnt anything sexy you jackass, we were just, we were just hanging out like always..." you trail off.

Beetlejuice stares into your eyes, as if he was looking through you,

A moment of silence passes

"Not buying it"

You groan out of frustration "I cant believe I missed you"

Beetlejuice pulls back, shocked "you missed me? Holy crap, YOU missed ME?!"

Beetlejuice has was now a soft pink as he nuzzles closer "Y/n no wonder you're moaning my name in your sleep babes, you MISSED me~"

You wanted to disappear, this was so embarrassing.

"Now how bout we make that wet dream a reality?~" he purrs

You finally push him off, and he howls with laughter, you take the opportunity to get out of bed and start your morning routine. For the entire day beetlejuice was very clingy to you, holding your arm or hand, cooing about how cute it was that you miss him when he's gone, and how you dream of him, still trying to get any juicy details about what kind of dreams and how he'll make them real, with an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle. He was pleased as punch knowing how you think of him when he's not around, knowing that you would never leave him.

Bonus

Beetlejuice constantly brags and exaggerates to anyone who would listen or not about how you have wet dreams about him and how you long for him when you two are apart, needless to say you have alot of damage control to do to.

[iceicewifey]

shamelessly copied Sinner /j /lh and did one of those Araki style character sheets for Shay to see if i could share her info easier and I'll say it worked 😳

had to redo the template because I'm stupid and the layout kind of confused me plus I'll never pass up an opportunity to make my own version of whatever thing fjdnfjdgb but I hope it makes sense. alot of the info can be found in her mini bio, but it was still fun to fill this out. plain text under the cut because it's alot to read. thanks again to sinner for both posting theirs and providing the original template ♡

editing because this is so outdated already 😭

Name / Nicknames

Shayleigh Disa Malmsteen / Shay, Spanky (childhood nickname), Dee (from Hol Horse)

Age

23 (SDC)

Sex

CIS Female

Birthday / Zodiac Sign

August 12th, 1965 / Leo

Blood Type

O-

Birthplace

Miami, FL USA

Height

5'4" / 162cm

Weight

~137lbs / 62kg

Sexual Orientation

M-spec

Hair Color

Platinum blonde

Eye Color

Pale icy blue // Pink (Manga)

Eyesight / Colorblindness / Wears Glasses?

Slight myopia Not enough to warrant glasses.

Dominant Hand

Left

Type of Voice

High pitched / "soprano" A bit scratchy from smoking

Medical History

Minor nerve damage from particularly deep scar in right forearm, partially perforated septum (corrected; from cocaine use) Uterine Arteriovenous Malformation — required surgery

Scars / Birthmarks / Tattoos

Numerous scars on hands, arms, torso, shoulders, back, legs, and left eyebrow // Barbed wire tat around right wrist, palm tree on left ankle, devil tail on lower back

Other Defining Physical Features: Nose, Eye Shape, Chest Size, Legs, Moles, etc.

Slightly downturned doe eyes, small slits in eyebrows (left has hair displaced by scars, right is shaved to match). Larger than average chest (~E cup)

Race

Caucasian

Religion

N/A

Nationality

American

Ancestral Background

½ Swedish on father's side

Criminal Record / Education

Criminal record is extensive. Dropped out of high school during 11th grade but stopped attending long before then.

Formative Experiences as a Baby or Young Child

Grew up without birth mother (passed away soon after she and her twin sister were born), Father worked as motorcycle mechanic and would frequently bring his daughters to work; fostered her love of motorcycles at a young age. Dealt with abusive stepmother for ~7 years.

Sexual History / Lovers

Several boyfriends & a girlfriend during high school years, numerous ‘flings’ throughout mid 80’s. Not on good terms with any exes.

Thoughts Towards Romance / Marriage

Says she’s indifferent. Would like to get married, but wants it to be with “the right person.” Has trauma from parents about relationships.

People the Subject Looks Up To / Idolizes

Evel Knievel, Lemmy Kilmister

People the Subject Hates

Her father. Stepmother, Lydia. Stepbrother, Adam. Half brother, Viggo. Estefania, Jotaro Kujo, Polnareff, Nukesaku

Personality Traits / Habits / Fav. Sayings

Tends to hide her true emotions, acts apathetic. Cautious around new people, especially if they know who she is and she doesn’t recognize them. Her defense mechanism tends to make it so she comes off as rude or abrasive. // Honestly just enjoys telling people that annoy her to shut up.

Dreams for the Future

Wants to eventually return to Miami. Wants to build her own custom Harley, right down to the paint job. Wants “a buncha badass lookin’ tats” to cover her more prominent body scars.

Fears

Drowning, being strangled, seeing more of her friends die in front of her, upsetting DIO and having to face his wrath.

Most Traumatic Experiences

The years of emotional and verbal abuse from her stepmother and stepbrother. Her first night in jail. Witnessing the deaths of some of her closest friends at the hands of the gang they once belonged to.

Relationships - Incl. Behavior

Neneh is the first best friend she’s ever had; loves her dearly and would kill for her if she asked. Misses her dearly while in Cairo. Gets along well with other Terence T. D’Arby, Kenny G., Enya, and most other mansion residents. On DIO’s better side. Romantically involved with Vanilla Ice.

Familial Relationships - Incl. Behavior

Hasn’t seen her sister since 17, misses her. Got along very well with Swedish grandparents, used to visit every Christmas as a child; visits slowed and eventually stopped upon her father remarrying. Positive relationships with maternal aunt, Caroline and her daughter, Rita. Gets along well with ‘pseudo father’, Ozzy, misses him while in Cairo. The gloves she wears to hide her scarred hands were a gift from him.

Problematic Relationships

Relationship with father was good as a young child but has deteriorated. Misses how he used to be, hurt that he chose a new partner over his daughters. Never had positive relationships with stepmother or stepbrother. Never really got along with former “boss”, Estefania despite trying. Feels no remorse for her death. Her murder is the reason she ends up in Cairo.

Education / Work History

John F. Kennedy Middle School (Miami, FL) Elizabeth Cobb Middle School (Tallahassee, FL) Lincoln High School (dropped out; Tallahassee) Has never been formally employed or had a ‘legal’ job.

Economic Class

Grew up middle class, struggled with money after being kicked out.

Pets / Plants

Never had pets. Had a monstera clipping that grew in the motel room she lived in.

Personality

STUBBORN. Hates being told what to do and will often do the opposite. Tends to clash with authority figures. Has a bit of a sharp tongue, she’s wary of strangers and tends to speak her mind freely, even if what she says isn’t exactly polite. Used to act out rudely for attention from a bad home life but grew out of that phase. Rarely rude to strangers without reason nowadays. Insanely devoted to friends and loved ones, likes going the extra mile to show that she loves and cares for them. Very outgoing, a bubbly ‘people person’ and a bit of a ‘party girl‘. She’s typically laid back and enjoys being surrounded by those she loves. ‘Bitchiness’ is a defense mechanism stemming from trauma; “If I don‘t care, I can’t get hurt.” She’s a spitfire with a feisty side and a terrible temper, never one to back down from a fight and will start one if she’s worked up.

Strengths

Loyal to the end, skilled with knives and using her stand, won’t quit until the task is done or it kills her, can seemingly sense when someone is upset, can pick things up with her feet

Weaknesses

Hedonistic, lower physical strength than muscular male opponents, argumentative, easy to anger, extensive criminal record, bottles feelings Deep down she’s scared and hurt, hiding behind a façade to escape any future pain

Special Skills / Fighting Style(s)

Mostly accustomed to street fighting. Fights dirty; punching, hitting, slapping, kicking, biting, hair pulling, nothing is off limits. Skilled with using switchblades. Likes to use her stand to trip non-stand user and see their confusion when they stumble.

Weapon(s)

Wields twin automatic “stiletto” switchblades, keeps them hidden in her boots

Driver's License / Vehicle of Choice / Driving Language

Obtained learner’s in 1981 and full license in 1983 but had been illegally driving since she was ~14 // Prefers motorcycles over cars. Favorite bike is the 1973 Harley Davidson FL Electra-Glide // Typical Florida Driver™. Has a lead foot and tends to speed. Tends to get a bit aggressive at times and will partake in road rage if provoked.

Hobbies / Recreations

Likes to draw things she thinks are cool; skulls, motorcycles, tigers, devils, playing cards. Tinkering with her bike, watching trash TV, riding motorcycles with friends, swimming, etc. Often upset she can’t do much of this in Cairo

Likes & Dislikes

Likes metal music, leather pants, motorcycles, billiards, chicken shawarma Dislikes formal clothing, being bossed around, running out of hairspray, driving in the rain, prudes

Food / Clothing / Shelter

Had a few outfits (a lot of them shoplifted) and mostly ate instant or microwaveable food while living in a motel paid for with money from ““odd jobs”” // Kept most of the same clothing upon moving to Cairo, despite her style clashing with local culture. Lives and works in DIO’s mansion

Motives / Passions

Self preservation, making “a shit ton of money”, has thought about killing her stepmother in the past but doesn’t want to deal with the consequences

Favorite Color / Locations / People

Dark teal, black, hot pink // South Miami Beach, Aunt Carol’s house // Neneh, Terence, Vanilla, and Enya

Fashion Style

Wears a lot of tight and overly revealing clothing after years of being forced to dress “like a proper girl” as a child. Likes wearing leather and wants to look like the girls in the metal magazines (i.e. Doro Pesch)

Used Substances

Tobacco, alcohol, marijuana (formerly), cocaine (formerly addicted)

Perfume / Cologne?

Used to wear “City Girl” perfume, but prefers scented lotions.

Any Accessories?

Crescent moon earring worn only on her left ear (twin sister wears the other), two hoops on right ear // stud on left side of nose // black leather fingerless gloves to hide scars

Supernatural Abilities / Attuned to Spirits?

Not necessarily sensitive to spirits but sometimes feels what she assumes is her mother’s presence when she sits on the beach alone at night. She can’t explain it, but it’s somewhat comforting and tends to happen when she’s stressed or upset.

Accent / Dialect

Miami accent; pronounces the ‘L’ in “salmon” // speaks in short form and slang often (i.e. wanna, gonna, ain’t) // drops the ‘g’ on words that end in ‘-ing’ (i.e. swimmin’ )

Anything Else?

Knows how to juggle. Allergic to shellfish. Not a serious reaction but the kind that makes her throat tingle. Used to think it happened to everyone, not just her.             ↓ “Everybody’s throat tingles after crab cakes. It’s part of the experience.”

[inkbutterflyuniverse]

Some random thoughts about Grease Rise of the Pink Ladies, before Paramount+ removes it, because I liked the show so much:

First, Buddy. Honestly, I never really cared about him, so his character development about his dad doing everything for him, didn't hit me. Like yeah, good for you that you finally know it, but it was kinda obvious that it wasn't the first time he did something to help you.

Second, Jane. Ah Jane, nice Jane, sweet Jane... How can I say this nicely? Okay listen, it's not that I hate you, but I didn't like you either. She was so annoying, she had moments were she was a good character, but overall she was so annoying. "Oh Richie pushed me back and Buddy's here... Oops I kissed him". "What do you mean you're angry because I kissed Buddy? But it's you that I chose, Richie!". Yeah not a fan of her character. Maybe because the show was too much about Jane and her family...

Third, Hazel. I loved her. So happy she got her jacket! She deserves it! She also faces a love problem, between Wally and Buddy. Buddy may know her better, but I prefer Wally, just because of the song and the things he talked about, like finding a middle ground. But let's be realist, whoever she chooses, it won't last long. After graduation she will go to college, become a great scientist, win a lot of prizes for her work, and maybe then she will meet a great person who likes her for who she is and share some of her interest!

Fourth, Nancy. Her character development took some time, but it was worth it. I love her, she's so unhinged, so funny, and such a great character. I love how she was there for Cynthia, and how she stood up for Olivia by slapping the teacher. YES GIRL, you're right, she's a child! And her discovering that she has a crush on Potato was cute! I would have love seeing more of them...

Fifth, Cynthia. And Lydia. Or Lynthia. They were so good together, I really love how their relationship progressed! The way they were on edge with each other at the beginning, and how they slightly began to like the other, to the point of Cynthia confessing... It was one of the best relationship written in the show. I would have been so down for more of them in a second season, and to learn more about their life, especially about Cynthia's mysterious dad and her mom who apparently left?

Sixth, Susan. I like her. I really do. She's kinda mean, but I understand. And I loved the little development she had after the driving test! I was a little sad that after that she threw her development away, but I can't blame her after everything Olivia's said and done. It was a shock to learn that she aborted and that she never talked Buddy. And the way her mom talked about soooo casually in the hallway, when everyone could hear you... It's honestly shocking that no one heard that! It could be a very valuable information!

Last but not least, Miss McGee, aka the true queen. She was the star of this show. Forget about the girls and their teenagers problems, this woman deserves more respect. She is the principal, not the other dummy who plays golf in his office. She does ALL the paperwork BY HERSELF, she's the one who talks to the students and their parents if needed. She literally kept most of the kids into the school when it wasn't safe for them to go out, almost by herself. None of the other adults helped her, she had to rely on kids! This woman deserves more recognition.

[oohnotvery]

Throwing Good After Bad (Chapter 4)

Mulder

The couch in his cabin is uncomfortable, but not worse than the one he has at home. Still, sleep comes unnaturally for him even in the best of circumstances, and his mind is buzzing with activity. The wedding band on his left hand is too tight, effectively cutting off circulation to his ring finger. He blames Kersh as he tries and fails to wiggle it off. Maybe Scully has some special hand cream she can use to finagle it past the knuckle.

With a heavy sigh, he wonders—for the hundredth time—where she’s sleeping. Unlike his cabin, which is outfitted with a bed, a couch, and two large reclining chairs, Scully and Joe’s place is disappointingly under-furnished. Earlier, before he said goodnight, he offered half a dozen times to drag his couch over to her place, but she made the fair point that he likely wouldn’t be able to fit it through either door.

He glances at the clock hanging above the cabin’s boarded-up fireplace and notices with a sinking sensation that it is already past one a.m. That means Scully has been asleep in Joe’s bed for about four hours now. That’s four hours longer than Mulder has ever gotten to share a bed with her.

He stands up to make a glass of water when he hears it.

Tap tap tap.

He freezes, his head swiveling towards the door. A few seconds pass, and then he hears it again.

Tap tap tap tap. This time, a little louder.

He trots stealthily back to the couch and grabs his gun, stuffing it in the back of his pants before heading to the window and glancing outside.

It’s . . . Scully.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he flings the door open and ushers her inside.

“Did Joe hurt you?” he asks immediately, his eyes roving her face for signs of injury.

She glares up at him in irritation. “What? No, Mulder. Why would Joe hurt me?” He opens his mouth to speak and she holds up a hand. “No, never mind. Don’t answer that.”

He shuts the door behind her and glances towards the bedroom where Lydia is sleeping. “What’s going on, then? Bed wasn’t cozy enough?”

That earns him another irritated look, and he decides to keep his mouth shut for the next few minutes.

Shaking her head, she nods in the direction of his suitcase, which sits propped up beside the couch, its contents spilling messily over the sides. “Grab your coat and your weapon. I want to look at something.”

His curiosity sufficiently piqued, he shuffles on his jacket and stuffs his feet into his hiking boots, then follows her outside. The wild, stinging breeze coming off the sea has stilled from earlier, but with darkness, the island has grown brutally cold. Scully stuff her hands into her coat pockets and gestures with her head towards the path leading down to the beach.

They trek in silence for a few minutes, the only noise the sand crunching under their boots and the waves crashing onto the shore. When they’re right on the verge of exiting the tree line, Scully stills him with a hand to his chest and turns to face him.

She raises her voice slightly to be heard over the waves. “I saw a flashlight,” she tells him, and in the darkness, he can’t read her expression. “Outside my cabin window. I think someone was going down to the beach.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Intriguing.”

She nods and glances down towards the beach. “I’d like to see who is awake at this hour, and what in the world they’re doing at the beach at two in the morning.”

“Mhmm,” he says distractedly, his wheels spinning. “So Scully, how did you see a flashlight outside the cabin if you were in bed with Joe?”  

She smacks his arm and he can practically feel the vitriol in her gaze. “Enough with Joe, Mulder. Come on.”

Annoyed that she won’t answer his questions, Mulder follows her begrudgingly out onto the sand. From his earlier meanderings around their spit of island, he knows this section of the beach curves into two massive humps, creating two large, twin bays surrounded by thick rainforest and separated in the middle by a jetty of rocks and a tangle of trees. He and Scully trudge through the first and smaller beach and climb over a patch of pebbles, shells, and driftwood to reach the middle section. Here in the trees, they push past vines and cobwebs until finally, they spy the larger of the twin beaches stretching out before them.

And it is here that they see the ship.

A large yacht sits anchored in the middle of the bay, its gray-white hull brightly contrasted against the inky darkness of the ocean. The beach itself is empty, with no sign of people, but before Mulder can call it clear, Scully grips his arm.

He leans over her shoulder, peering past her to try to see what she sees.

And then he spies it. About halfway between the beach and the yacht, bobbing in the waves, is a tiny rowboat. It takes a few minutes of watching before Mulder determines that the rowboat is headed towards the yacht. From this distance, he can’t make out who’s piloting the boat, nor can he tell how many people are inside it.

Scully turns towards him and in a low voice, speaks directly into his ear. “Try to move closer?” she suggests.

He studies the beach for a moment longer, wondering if there are others hiding in the trees, wondering if there’s an unknown threat they haven’t perceived yet. But about halfway between the tree line and the shore, there is a tall stack of driftwood. If he and Scully can make it to the logs, they might get a closer picture of who is piloting that boat.

He nods mutely and points at the driftwood. She nods and by some unspoken agreement, they continue to surveil the beach for a few more moments. When Scully seems convinced that they’re clear to move, she tugs at his hand and crouches low to the ground, scuttling like a crab towards the driftwood pile. He hunches over her like the giant he is, his palm to her back. It takes them all of a minute to reach the wood pile, but he feels exposed for what seems like an eternity.

“Should’ve brought my binoculars,” Scully mutters to herself as they crouch behind the logs, catching their breath. Mulder forgot how difficult it is to run in sand.

He pops his head out from behind the wood pile and from this angle, can see the rowboat much more clearly. At his side, Scully lifts up too and he hears her hum with interest.

“Two people on board,” she notes.

“Looks like there’s some kind of crate or box behind them.”

“And they’ve got a large navigation light attached to the tender, but the light is off.”

“The tender?”

“The rowboat.”

“My little Navy brat,” he says fondly.

Here on the beach, the light from the nearly-full moon is strong enough that he can see her quirk a smile.

They sit in silence for a long time watching as the boat carefully docks beside the yacht. One of the pilots then scales a ladder on the side of the ship. When he reaches the top deck, he sends down a line of cables, which the other crewmember attaches to the crate. They work together to send the crate up to the boat deck.

“Bet you’re dying to know what’s inside that box,” Mulder mutters under his breath.

“If they abandon that rowboat, we might get our chance.”

Mulder shoots Scully a surprised look. She glances over at him. “What, Mulder? You don’t want to board that yacht?”

He shakes his head in amazement. “Careful there, Agent Scully. Your sudden proclivity towards reckless decision-making is quite the turn-on.”

She rolls her eyes derisively. “Mulder, this is not reckless. We’ve both got our weapons, right? That yacht could depart before sunrise. You have to admit, it’s suspicious that someone is loading the boat in the middle of the night, clearly attempting some level of discretion since they won’t turn on their lights. We know next-to-nothing about the Black Sands Community. Who knows if we’ll even have a chance to go on the property while we’re here? When else might we get a legitimate chance to see what’s going on?”

He grins. “You’ve never been sexier to me than you are in this very moment.”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

**

It takes almost an hour for the rowboat to return to shore, but to Mulder’s surprise, the two men piloting it ruck it over their heads and start carrying it into the forest and through the tree line.

He feels Scully’s shoulders sag in disappointment and he lays a hand against her back.

“Follow them?” he suggests. She nods eagerly.

They wait until the men have cleared the tree line and then break out into a run, tromping indelicately through the sand in their heavy hiking boots. When they enter the forest, they slow to a walk, listening for signs of the men.

But all is relatively quiet within the woods, and Mulder wonders if the thick jungle obscures sound, or whether the men have spotted them and are lying in wait. The thought sends jitters down his spine and he automatically reaches for Scully, clutching her hand in his.

But she seems to hear something he doesn’t, and raises a hand to her ear, signaling for him to listen closer.

He strains until he hears it—the sound of heavy rumbling, like thunder, or waves crashing or—or a vehicle starting up.

Scully grips his shoulder and rises up on her tiptoes, her lips pressing into his ear. “They’ve got a truck,” she says and he nods, squeezing her hand in confirmation.

Together, they fight through the jungle towards the sound of the truck. Although they can’t see where the truck is, they can hear the boat being loaded in clangs and bangs and then they hear the slamming of doors and the revving of the engine.

By the time they find the road, the truck is long gone.

Scully stares down the road longingly and Mulder thumps his head against her shoulder.

“We should follow them,” she says, and once again, Mulder is filled with surprise.

“Scully,” he says, turning her to face him. “Normally, I’m your guy for any crazy adventure you’d like to pursue.”

“But?” she asks with a twitch of an eyebrow.

“But our all-seeing, all-knowing host Evan promised to check in on us every morning.” He glances towards the horizon. “It’ll be dawn before we know it and once the sun comes up, we’re too exposed. We can’t let Evan know we left our cabins tonight.”

A moment passes while she considers his words.

“You’re right.” She sags unhappily against him and for the first time tonight, he can feel how tired she is. He squeezes her shoulders comfortingly.

“We’ll come back tomorrow night, okay? Follow this path as far as we can,” he promises.  

She nods up at him wearily and he drops his arm across her shoulders. “It’ll be fun. We’ll bring snacks.”

That earns him a quirk of a smile.

It takes half an hour to make it back to their cabins. Mulder plays the gentleman and walks Scully all the way up to her door.

She leans against the rustic wood frame and turns to stare up at him. He can barely see the hint of a smile playing on her face. “You having fun yet, Mulder?” she asks, reaching out to thumb at his jacket.

He huffs a laugh. “Who says I’m not having fun?”

She shrugs. “For someone who loves investigating religious cults and making wild leaps about ritual sacrifices, I’ve just had the feeling this case isn’t capturing your attention very well.”

He runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up. “I don’t know, Scully. It feels weird, doesn’t it? Being separated like this?” He gestures between their two cabins.

She laughs a little. “I forget you have attachment issues, Mulder.”

“Don’t tease,” he says woundedly.

“We’re hardly separated,” she counters. “What’s the difference between staying in separate cabins and staying in separate hotel rooms?”

Joe, he thinks irritably. A strange man usually isn’t sharing a bed with my partner.

But he just shrugs and hangs his head. “You’re right, Scully. I’ll try to drum up a little more enthusiasm for this doozy of a case.”

She purses her lips and tugs at his jacket again. “Atta boy.”

He turns to head down the path, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Hey, Mulder?” she calls out after him.

He swivels to face her. A wide, knowing smile graces her features.

“The recliner,” she says, and he quirks his head in question.

“I’m sleeping on the recliner.”

It takes a minute for his brain to catch up but when it does, embarrassment sluices down his spine. He glances down at his shoes and when he looks back up at her, she’s laughing a little, a triumphant little smile playing across her lips. His own grin catching on, he shakes his head in amusement and turns back towards his cabin.

He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the couch.  

[umbracirrus]

WIP Whenever~

I'm not going to lie, I'm surprised I had something to post! I got a stroke of writing inspiration for the next chapter of The Perfect Storm when I was meant to be writing an assignment for university, and found some time during my lunch and after I got home from work to get some words written down... I can't wait for all these assignments to be over and done with, my brain is otherwise completely frazzled beyond the thoughts 'play Skyrim'. 😮‍💨

Tagged by both @thequeenofthewinter and @throughtrialbyfire 💛

In addition to the war, winter was beginning to encroach upon Whiterun hold, threatening to pull the otherwise temperate lands into the same frosty tendrils which covered much of the province.

Elyse was not a fan.

The slightest wisps of warm air escaped the Dragonborn’s lips as she grumbled under her breath about the cold, her chin tucked into her scarf and a cloak tightly wrapped around her body. She was regretting her decision to leave Dragonsreach already, and in the back of her mind, she was starting to toy with the idea of calling Odahviing to either take herself and Lydia either back to the Jarl’s palace, or to just outside Riverwood where she could at least rest at the Sleeping Giant Inn.

All she had wanted was a day away from Dragonsreach. It was lovely there, and she was so thankful for Balgruuf allowing her to stay there... But it was always so hectic during the day. She had thought that a day at somewhere quieter, such as Riverwood, given its vicinity to the city, would be nice. Besides, it had been a long while since she had last spoken to Alvor, Gerdur, and their families.

"Now, what is it you like to tell people... Ah. That’s it – 'I'm not just a Breton, my mother was a Nord too-'" Lydia had started laughing, at least until she received an irritated kick in the shin. "I’m just saying, it’s not very Nord-like to complain about the cold."

Elyse let out a quiet ‘hmph’ as she continued on. She wasn’t really wanting to have to explain that her annoyance had come about because of that disaster of a visit to Windhelm. She didn't actually mind feeling cold, it was more that her body seemed to react a lot worse to the chill itself than it usually would. What had happened then was the only thing which she could reasonably put down to being the cause.

A particularly frigid breeze picked up at that point, and even more annoying to her was that they were walking into it, and signs of the first snowfall of the season were beginning to show as small flakes of snow kept getting brushed into her face.

"Pest! Get out of my meadery!"

"What in the-?" Elyse suddenly stopped in her tracks at a loud yell, quickly holding out her arm to get Lydia to stop. Much to the surprise of them both, they then caught sight of a skeever scampering past them, coming from the direction of the Honningbrew Meadery. At the doorway was a tired and irritated-looking Sabjorn holding a broom. He then caught sight of the two of them, and his face paled.

For a few moments, all three of them stood still, at least until the broom clattered onto the ground as he approached them.

"Please don’t close the meadery," he suddenly begged, grabbing hold of Elyse’s arm with a grasp which was far too tight and made her wince. It was only when Lydia cleared her throat in irritation that he loosened his hold – but only slightly. "Don’t tell the Jarl that I haven’t been able to handle the skeevers! This meadery is my lifeline, and-"

Both Elyse and Lydia exchanged a confused look, feeling as though there was something that they weren’t being told. "What has you thinking that we would tell the Jarl?" Lydia questioned, asking what had been on both of their minds in the hopes that it would let them know.

Eyes widening in surprise, he looked between the two of them before he visibly cleared his throat. "You mean that you aren’t the people that the Jarl was sending? But aren’t you the Jarl’s..." He looked as though he didn’t want to finish his sentence as he finally let go of Elyse.

A frown settled on Elyse’s face. "Thane?"

"Th-Thane...? Yes, yes, uh... Thane... that was the word I was looking for..."