#my brain works in mysterious ways (after midnight)

[doriana-gray-games]

can we get a snippet of Dr Watson taking care of Sherlock? :>

“You were foolish—“

“Calculating—“

“Foolish!”

“I miscalculated,” you correct. “Or missed some variable. Being wrong, in some small way, is not the same as foolish. Truly Watson, to think you so against learning, improving oneself by accepting failures—“

“YOU BROKE YOUR TOES!”

“Just the one toe…”

“The important one.”

“I don’t discriminate on such things.”

Watson pushes you down to remain on the bed. “I need to bind it. How’s your pain?”

“Tolerable. Unless…”

“No—“

“Then do not ask.”

Your good doctor had kept you in bed, elevated foot and everything for far too long now. It had been nearly an hour.

There’s tea on your cupboard. Extra sugars. And the very best biscuits, the one Watson hoards for the longest of days.

“Watson?”

They hum a soft sound, an acknowledgment, as they bind your broken appendage with steady and careful hands.

“If I am forced to endure monotony, I shall demand you do it with me.”

Watson looks at you, over those steady shoulders. A small smile across their lips. “I shall remain by your side. For as long as… as you need me, Sherlock. I can promise you that.”

[acey-wacey]

True Love's Kiss

Feat. Idia, Azul, Vil

Synopsis: You've fallen under a mysterious sleeping spell. Who can wake you up but your true love?

...

🎮 Idia Shroud 🎮

"ME?!"

Idia's shriek resounded through the infirmary before he was hushed by one of the nurses. He shrunk back in his embarrassment and turned back to the cheeky cat that was standing on the infirmary bed next to your sleeping form.

"Yes, you, shut-in. What have you got brimstone on your ears?" Grim scowled at the blue-haired boy who's hair was becoming quite pink with embarrassment. "Who else would kiss my henchman awake?"

"Literally anyone else, maybe?" Idia argued, hiding his face behind the collar of his jacket. "It's always Prince Charming in the stories. I'm about the farthest thing you could find."

"I think you're plenty charming, Idia!" Ortho chimed in with what would have been a smile if he didn't have his mask on. "Who's to say you won't break the spell?"

"I say," Idia groaned, his voice muffled by his jacket. "Aren't there any other cures? I thought Professor Crewel was working on an antidote."

Before Grim could open his mouth, Ortho interrupted.

"Nope! No other cure!" Ortho beamed with glee uncharacteristic for delivering grave news. "I already scanned and if my databases say there's no other cure than there's no other cure and you have to kiss them!"

Idia whined in mortification and buried himself further in his jacket, now almost entirely engulfed by the fabric, except for the tufts of flaming hair sticking out the top.

Grim tapped his paw impatiently, quite fed up with Idia's reservations. Every second you were asleep was a second that your poor, poor kitty boss went without tuna (he couldn't reach the cabinet where you put the cans).

"I could always go get Leona. He's a prince, so it's close enough, yeah?"

"No!" Idia shot up, his hair flared up in red, startling Grim so bad, Ortho had to catch him before he fell off the bed. Idia took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair until it returned to its regular electric blue.

"Don't even joke about that," Idia muttered through gritted teeth. "Makes my skin crawl to think of that grubby jock getting his slimy lips anywhere near Y/N."

"Fine, if you don't want anyone else to do it, then what's the issue?" Grim put his paws on his hips and shot Idia an impatient look. "You like them, they like you, they probably want to kiss you anyway so just hop to it! I'm starving over here!"

Idia snapped up in shock at Grim's words.

"Y/N... likes me?"

Grim scoffed in ridicule and rolled his eyes.

"Duh! What, have you been living under a rock? Oh, wait, you have, haven't you?"

Ortho immediately began protesting Grim's insult. Idia himself might've been offended if he wasn't preoccupied with his overheating brain.

Why in Wonderland would you like him? I mean that was just a ridiculous claim even though both Grim and Ortho seemed to believe it. Not many people even liked being around him much... but then again, you weren't other people.

You were the one who messaged him to go to sleep at midnight after gaming for too long. You brought him snacks and sat in comfortable silence in his dorm while he played video games. You never expected more from him and without realizing it, he has gotten used to having you next to him. It even happened sometimes that he would turn to say something to you while he was gaming, only to find you weren't there. It baffled him how you made your way into his daily routine almost without notice.

"Do they really?" Idia asked softly, catching the attention of both Grim and Ortho who had been exchanging some heated words of childlike manner. "Like me, I mean."

Ortho giggled at his brother's bashfulness.

"Of course they do! They never shut up about you!" Grim huffed, recalling the countless times he'd heard you practically gushing about the vitamin D deficient geek. "No clue why though. Guess Y/N likes 'em pale and sickly."

"I'm not- whatever," Idia didn't really have the fight in him to argue with Grim's impression of him. He took a deep breath and looked at Ortho. "Do you really think it would work?"

"Only one way to find out!" the little robot responded cheerily.

"What if..." Idia gulped. "What if it doesn't work and I just kiss them for nothing? What if..."

"Shut up and pucker up, dracula! I'm wasting away without my henchman!"

That earned Grim a pair of yellow-eyed glares.

Idia collected himself with a deep breath and leaned towards you.

"Nope, nope, nope, this is a bad idea, I can't do this," he panicked, standing up and waving his hands around in anxiety. Grim rolled his eyes and jumped onto Idia's shoulders, pushing him onto you with all the momentum the little creature could muster.

It was effective. Idia toppled forward onto the infirmary bed, catching himself just in time to not crush you, but not before his lips brushed yours.

Idia jumped back, crashing to the floor quite devoid of grace. He, Ortho, and Grim all held their breath, waiting for something to happen.

"Aw, man, our first kiss, and I wasn't even awake for it!"

Idia brightened at the sound of your voice. He jumped back to his feet to see your drowsy eyes locked on him.

"Hi, Charming," you lazily smiled at the blue-haired boy. "Thanks for rescuing me."

Idia's face went slack with shock and his face turned so red you were afraid he might explode.

"Perfect! Now that you're awake, get me tuna, human!"

...

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

"This is such a bad idea."

Deuce echoed for the nth time since Ace had come up with his little scheme.

"I know but just think," Ace smirked at your sleeping body, which the two were carrying through the Octavinelle dorm, Ace supporting your arms, Deuce carrying your legs, like they were carrying a dead body. "Imagine the look on the prefect's face when they wake up and see Azul They'll probably think they're dreaming."

"Yeah, I think they've had that dream before," Grim scowled from where he rode atop your belly. "Wouldn't be surprised with how down-bad they are for that slimy little junior mafia boss."

"It'll be fine, I'm sure," Ace dismissed, ignoring Deuce's concerned look. "And if anything bad happens, it'll probably be the prefect ending up with a contract, not us."

"That's kind of a terrible thing to say about a cursed person," Deuce pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Pssh, where'd your moral compass come from, huh?"

"From my mom," Deuce spat defensively. Ace was about to respond when they were both startled by a looming figure standing menacingly behind Deuce.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?"

Both first years gulped in fear at the sound of the eel's unison voices.

"Is our poor prefect injured?" Jade frowned though his eyes held a devious sparkle.

"Sort of..." Grim started but jumped back when Floyd grinned at him menacingly.

"We can't have Shrimpy being hurt, now can we?" he flashed his sharp teeth at the sleeping prefect. "We'll take 'em off your hands, fix 'em up real nice."

"Will we get them back?" Ace asked, fearing the answer. Jade responded with a squinty smile.

"That remains to be seen."

"Hey, wait a minute-!" Deuce tried to protest but was cut off when Floyd lifted your limp body with two hands and flung you over his shoulder.

"Careful, Floyd," Jade warned. "We can't have damaged goods."

The unfortunate trio was left to watch as you were hefted into the Mostro Lounge, wondering if they would ever see you again.

Meanwhile, in the Mostro Lounge, Azul was peacefully tallying profits in his office when his door was kicked down.

"What the-" he shrieked. Azul stared in horror as Floyd barged into the room with a body flung over his shoulder. "Did you... Did you actually kill someone this time?"

"Not this time," Floyd responded cheerfully. Azul managed to stand up from his chair right before Jade swept everything off of the polished mahogany desk in front of him.

"What are you doing?!" Azul yelled but was quickly silenced when Floyd set your limp body down on the now-empty desk. "Is that Y/N?"

"Yup!" Floyd said, popping the "p" with a sly smile.

"Are they...?" Azul asked hesitantly.

"Just sleeping, fortunately," Jade responded with a similar grin. "But I'm afraid it's the work of magic. They won't wake until..."

At this point Azul was very concerned. His crush was unconscious on his desk and his business associates were far too smug to have good intentions.

"Until what? Seven's sake, just tell me why you brought them here!"

"Very well," Jade bowed his head in respect that felt more mocking than anything. "The prefect will remain asleep until they are woken up by true love's kiss. It is the belief of myself as well as Y/N own friends that you may be able to fulfill this requirement."

It must have been at least a full minute before Azul spoke again.

Jade waited patiently with a smile as Azul stared in shock and confusion, the gears behind his eyes obviously turning at superhuman speeds.

Azul finally snapped back into his regular businessman persona.

"Well, of course, I am obviously the most qualified candidate to undertake his task," Azul said nonchalantly, though both eels could easily tell it was a front.

"We'll leave you two alone then!" Floyd winked suggestively at Azul, the octopus' calm facade cracking ever so slightly.

Jade and Floyd shut the door to Azul's office and he could hear their laughter through the wood.

Azul took a deep breath and looked at your sleeping form. You looked so peaceful, your forehead free from worried wrinkles and lips devoid of any kind of scowl. Azul was used to being on the receiving end of some of these scowls/ incredulous looks. He couldn't deny he might have deserved some of the scrutiny you gave him, given that he did attempt to trick your friends into contracts so you would have to come visit him to save them. Perhaps if you wanted him to stop, you should stop wearing that adorable pout when you confront him!

You took a breath and Azul stood up so fast it scared him.

"Sevens," Azul muttered, running a hand through his hair. "When did I get this jumpy?"

He looked at you once more, taking in every still detail about you.

"Might as well stare, since you'll never be this calm around me again," he whispered as if he was afraid you would hear him through your enchantment. He sighed contentedly as he stared at your sleeping face.

After only a few seconds, he snapped himself back out of it.

"Stop it, Azul, that's creepy," he scolded himself, taking to pacing around his room. "Though to be fair, kissing someone who is under an enchanted sleep is far more creepy than just looking at them."

He peered at you again. Though it was easy to admire your serene expression, it was uncanny to see your face motionless, without a laugh or groan or yell behind it. Azul took a deep breath and steeled his nerves.

"Even if they hate me forever, it's worth a shot," he quietly hyped himself up. "But isn't it just true love's kiss? There's no way I'm their true love, that would be impossible. They dislike me far too much. But I would never forgive myself if I could have saved them..."

Azul grappled with his inner thoughts for who knows how long, before landing on the conclusion that he should just go for it and kiss you.

"If they do wake up, I'll apologize profusely until they forgive me for kissing them and then possibly draft a marriage contract...?" Azul hit himself in the head to snap himself out of it. "Stop it. Now's not the time to be thinking about that."

Azul took a sharp inhale and turned back to you.

"Oh, screw it!"

He exclaimed and rushed back to his desk, pressing his lips to yours before he could rethink it. It was the slightest kiss, barely even a kiss. Azul wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he had truly taken advantage of you.

He turned away faster than even the brief kiss. He held his breath, trying to notice tiny details about his walls to distract himself from the tension.

"What is... Where am I?"

Azul spun around, eyes wide with genuine shock. Upon seeing you groggily looking around, he straightened and cleared his throat.

When you turned toward the noise, you saw Azul, the absolute picture of perfection he always was. You would never have known he was feeling anything akin to anxiety if it weren't for the nervous tapping of his custom-tailored leather shoes.

"Azul?" You narrowed your eyes, taking in your environment. You were laying on a table, alone in a small room with Azul. "What is this? Don't tell me you finally got the tweels to drug me."

Azul opened his mouth to protest, a bit concerned that you were so used to stuff like that that you just sounded tired instead of worried, but he remembered his gentlemanly guise and rethought his next words.

"Honestly, Y/N, do you really think me so cruel?" Azul smirked, praying to the Seven for an excuse you would buy so he wouldn't have to explain the real situation. "I was not the one who brought you here. You were merely... dumped on my doorstep, shall we say."

"I just remember Ace and Grim screwing around in alchemy and they dropped some dumb potion..." You put together vague pieces of your memory before it clicked. "Ooooh, sleeping potion. I was knocked out, wasn't I? Bit stupid of those idiots to bring me here, but isn't that how they always are."

You jumped off the table as if you hadn't just been passed out. Azul was honestly surprised by your chipperness. You sighed and turned to him.

"So what did you do? What do I owe you?" You looked at Azul expectantly. He blinked a couple times before he felt embarrassing heat rise on his neck.

"I didn't- well I- that is to say-" Azul stared, scrambling for words. Nobody but you could make him this inarticulate. He took a deep breath and collected himself. "You don't owe me. If anything, I should be paying you for recompense."

You furrowed your eyebrows, very skeptical of any supposed kindness coming from NRC's resident schemer.

"What do you mean recompense? What happened?"

"I may have-" Azul coughed, trying to brush off what was so clearly bothering him. "This particular enchantment required-" Another cough. "I believe the particular wording was a true love's kiss. I provided a kiss of such manner. Because of the impropriety of this particular cure, I feel a certain responsibility to compensate you for such lack of consent."

You stared for a long time. Azul imagined that must have been what he looked like when Jade first told him about your condition.

"True love's kiss..." You trailed off, subconsciously bringing your fingers to your lips.

"Yes and I will be happy to provide compensation for emotional or physical damages or- or other."

You looked at Azul incredulously.

"You just told me you're my true love and you think I want money?!"

Azul was quite confused now.

"Do you not want money?"

"Well, I could always use it but at the particular moment, what I really want is for this dumb octopus to come and give me a real kiss."

...

🪞 Vil Schoenheit 🪞

It had been a few hours since you had been unceremoniously dumped on Pomefiore's doorstep. Apparently, some alchemical accident had happened, leaving you magically asleep with no known cure. Crowley had dropped your limp body at Pomefiore and offered extra credit to anyone who could fix you. It only made sense. After all, the Fairest Queen was quite proficient at potions, and so Vil prided himself on the same.

No one else had dared touch you once he spotted your body and glared at them. He had Rook carry you to the makeshift potions lab next to Vil's room. Rook, ever the drama queen, took every step to ensure your comfort while in your enchanted sleep. He set you up on a table with plush pillows and a lacy blanket. Vil thought the flowers Rook had arranged in your hands were a bit excessive but he was more preoccupied with finding a cure.

Vil told himself he was doing it for the extra credit, but really, anyone who knew him knew he didn't need it. Some part of him didn't like seeing you cursed.

For the past two hours, Vil had been rifling through every potion book he had, trying multiple recipes and feeling a little more disheartened every time it didn't work. One of the elixirs he whipped up burned right through his potted fern. He elected not to test that one on you.

Eventually, Vil came upon a book about curse-breaking.

"Can't believe I didn't see this before," he muttered to himself, flipping open the table of contents.

There was only one page on sleep spells. Vil ran his finger over the passage as he read it.

"The only way a sleep spells can be reversed is thought true love's..." Vil interrupted himself with a scoff. "That's ridiculous, that can't be the only way."

He looked over at your sleeping form, clutching your bouquet of flowers. The color was drained from your face and even the shade of your clothes looked grayer. Vil felt a pang of emotion, like a hand squeezing his heart at the sight of you so lifeless.

You were usually so full of life, bringing joy to those close to you. You stayed just out of the limelight, content to support your friends in their shenanigans but having your own fun outside of the public eye. Oftentimes, you took Vil along with you, giving him a taste of what it's like to be treated like a normal person.

It disturbed him so see you devoid of a smile or eye-roll or any sort of emotion that you wore on your sleeve.

No matter what it took, he would find a cure.

"You've already found a cure," Vil imagined you saying to him. "You're just too scared to use it."

"What do you know?" Vil grumbled quietly. Had he really fallen so far he was talking to himself? He wished you were really talking to him, really showing signs of life, even if it was to scold him. "There must be another cure somewhere. I don't care how long it takes me to find it."

"You know true love's kiss is the most powerful thing in the world," Vil's imaginary you said. "There isn't another way. And besides, would you rather me be awake now instead of in the 6 months it takes you to find something else?"

Vil huffed, more annoyed by the fact that he really didn't want to wait than what you were saying.

"Then why don't you tell me how to find your true love, hm? That'll take me longer than 6 months."

His imaginary you just stared at him, blinking pointedly. He stared back, trying to decipher what his psyche was trying to tell him.

"You don't think..." His face fell when he realized what that look meant. "It's not me, believe me."

"Well, some part of you obviously thinks it could be, because I think it could be you and I'm just in your head," you shrugged.

"I refuse," he immediately declared, turning away from where your real self laid. "If you were real, you would not agree. And by the way, who am I to kiss you while you're asleep?"

Vil looked over at your peaceful face and he swore he could see incredulity in your motionless expression.

"Stop looking at me like that, potato. I refuse to kiss you without proper consent."

Imaginary you stared at Vil again, unsettling him more.

"Come now, I don't need this from both of you," he picked up a potion book, pretending to read it.

"You could save me," imaginary you offered, your voice solemn in a way he couldn't imagine perfectly. He'd never heard you that serious. Guilt suddenly hit him in the chest, drawing his attention back to you.

Vil stared at you longingly for much longer than he would have allowed himself if you were conscious. He groaned and walked towards you.

"I want to save you, Y/N," Vil declared wistfully as he stood over you. "I do know if I can be your true love, but Seven, I'm out of ideas."

Vil leaned closer to you and brushed a hair out of your face.

"Maybe I'll be able to do this right one day."

Vil brought his lips to yours gently, barely touching them before he pulled away. He watched your face for any signs of movement. When you stayed stationary, he turned away, trying to shut out his disappointment.

"Honestly, when did I get so delusional?" Vil scoffed, desperately trying to push down his feelings. "In what sort of foolish fantasy do I count as Y/N's true love?"

"Mine, probably."

Vil whirled around, his usual grace abandoned in his shock at hearing your voice in his ears in lieu of his head.

You groaned as you sat up, a bit confused as you examined the flowers you were holding.

"Sorry, that was probably a dumb thing to say," you laughed, shocking Vil with how easily you adjusted to your surroundings. "Though I guess you really are my true love. You can't try to deny it, I've got the receipts."

Vil's lip quirked up at your instant snap back to teasing.

"My word against yours, potato."

...

Buy me a Kofi! ☕

[ashen-char]

i say that i hate you with a smile on my face 🔞

ship: amber freeman (scream) x gender neutral reader

warnings: explicit smut so minors get out. hate sex, sex while driving

summary: amber is furious after seeing you with another girl at a party. the only way to deal with her jealousy is to fuck it out of her.

word count: 2700+

By the time the party ends, it's almost 3am. Early hours have always felt so strange to you, so mysterious that liminal time past midnight and before the sun rises. Everything feels slower. Less alive, almost. There aren't any other cars on the street, aren't any lights on in the houses you pass as you make your way back to Amber's.

The radio is off and the streets are quiet. You almost wish that Amber would go right back to yelling at you because at least it wouldn't be this mind-numbing silence. You're so tense, shoulders stiff and defensive, your grip a vice on the wheel.

You had danced with another girl, sure.

Chad had introduced you to some new girl that Liv had befriended and told to come. You can't even remember what her name was. When Liv got roped into a night shift and couldn't go, she'd told her friend to stick to a familiar face.

Really, you think that Chad just wanted to ditch her on you so that Liv wouldn't tear him a new one for leaving her friend while he got wasted. You owed Chad a solid for helping you score a reservation at some fancy restaurant for you and Amber's anniversary after you forgot it, and you didn't see the harm. That was your first mistake.

Amber's expression is unreadable, her grip white-knuckled on her knee as she stares out the window of your car. Speaking first would feel like you lost—you still don't think you did anything wrong, feel that Amber's reaction went way too far. And you're stubborn. But Amber is even more so. And your relationship is more valuable than winning... whatever this is, so

"I didn't do anything," you say for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

"You hear how you sound right now?" Amber snarls, her own shoulders tensing up. "That's what everyone says when they're caught. I didn't do anything," she imitates your voice in a whine.

Mocking you? How mature.

Letting go of her knee, Amber folds her arms over her chest, looking away from you again. You can see her roll her eyes and scoff a “whatever” under her breath.

You grit your teeth. Possible responses whir through your brain—a joke, an apology, something to diffuse the situation. You know what you should do, know that Amber’s only jealous because she’s desperate for reassurance from you. But God is it exhausting navigating Amber's complex emotions when she doesn't even care if she hurts yours.

Tonight was supposed to be fun for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to go to a party and have a blast, not get into another stupid argument.

Amber hasn't apologised a single time since you two started dating. She hasn't once promised she'd be better like you always do for her. She had yelled at you the second you two left the party, fighting from the porch all the way to the car. She wouldn’t hear you out even once as you were vehemently denying her accusations. You truly believe that you shouldn’t be the one to apologise. Not this time.

So this time, you don't do that. Your hand reaches out, sliding over to the passenger seat until you're grazing Amber's thigh. "What did you think you saw me do, huh?" you say.

“What are you—"

"You think I touched her?" Your fingers trail their way up. The fabric of her leggings is thin, so you can feel the heat of Amber’s skin as you caress her inner thigh. It’s a tease, a war of nerves, wondering when the other will give in. "Like this?"

Amber's still worked up, blood still pumping; the adrenaline from the argument is rushing through her veins. But you know that no matter how pissed off she is at you, there’s no way she’d push you away. You swear she actually moves closer.

“You would,” Amber challenges. “You know, if I knew you were gonna be another unfaithful piece of shit, I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you.”

You can tell from her tone that she’s trying to rile you up on purpose. Like she’s enjoying getting under your skin. She wants you as heated as she is so it becomes a level playing field. Amber does this whenever you two have a fight, like she's just waiting for you to blow up at her so you feel as insane as she does about you. You know it's all coming from the same place as the jealousy does. She feels so fucking much about you that she's begging for more. Needs retribution so bad. Needs to feel something.

"Sometimes I swear you start fights out of nowhere on purpose," you say. On her upper inner thigh now, your hand squeezes, almost hard enough to bruise. Your thumb runs up down, up down, never quite getting close enough to where she wants it. "Because you like when I touch you while you pretend to hate my guts."

"You're an idiot. Why would I want you to touch me?" Amber clenches her thighs, holding your hand in place, preventing it from slipping back down. You can hear how her breathing gets laboured. She's too stubborn to admit that she wants you to keep going, but you both know it. She can't help the mix of hatred and lust that fuels her veins right now. "I do hate you. I hate you so goddamn much."

A red light. You breathe out in relief.

Finally, your attention doesn't need to be split between the road and this argument. You can see the smile on her face as she swears that she hates you. Good. That wild look in her eyes tells you that you can be more aggressive with her. Amber loves that. 

Your hand slips up right where she wants it, until you're cupping at her center. Only a thin scrap of fabric separate your fingers from the cunt you love so much. You could do it. You could tear through her leggings and fuck the shit out of her. Amber's legs part for you and you swear you hear her whimper.

"What would you do if I did flirt with her, huh?" you say. "Would you break up with me?"

"Fuck you," she spits, though with her shortness of breath it sounds more like a plead. "I bet you wanted to get her to some spare room. You're desperate enough. Were you hoping to get your fingers wet with some other bitch even when you went there with your girlfriend?"

Her mouth is so filthy. You should do something about that. Amber shouldn't be allowed to talk right now. "What's your fucking problem? I was with you all night!"

God, this is fun. Amber's grinning and her eyes shine, the golden light coming in from the streetlights and making everything glow. You squeeze. The meat of your palm is grinding up against her clit but it isn't enough. Not with all that clothing between you. She moans, clenching her legs once more, needing more pressure there.

"You're my problem!" Amber shrieks.

Fuck.

The second you're about to leap in and devour Amber in a kiss, the light you're stopped at turns green. The car behind you honks and you're forced to turn your attention back to the road. Amber lets out a frustrated groan at that, that stupid honking throwing the moment entirely.

"You know what, screw this," she says. You hear Amber unclick her seatbelt, and before you can tell her to strap back in she grabs your hand.

"What are you—" You barely get the words out before your hand is shoved down into her leggings.

Amber's soaked. She's as sticky and warm as the last time you touched her, and you know just how good she'd taste right now too. It isn't your dominant hand—that one is busy on the wheel—so you actually haven't touched her with this one before. It's unfamiliar territory and the same all at once. She pushes her panties to the side with her own hand but it'll be yours that she makes do all the work.

"Shut up. I need this." A low guttural sound escapes her lips as she finally, finally feels your hand where she wants it. Her head tilts back and you feel her thighs squeeze at that first sharp sensation of pleasure. "Shut your mouth and drive," she practically hisses.

You have to focus on the road. The guy behind you is already pissed from how slow you were to keep driving after the green light, and how Amber had given him the middle finger. He's driving so close behind you know that a single slip up could mean a crash. You're so fucked. Especially your fingers, which Amber is sliding her slit up and down on, collecting her wetness with a satisfying shlick.

"Amber," you try to warn. As hot as this is, you do not want to get into an accident because your girlfriend was just so horny during a fight.

Her mouth hangs open in pleasure as she rubs her clit against your palm. It's so much better when you can feel her. You wish you could turn to look. But you can feel Amber's eyes on you, probably still glaring at you with the same hateful glare she had earlier.

"She wouldn't be this wet for you," she tells you.

The girl at the party could not be further from your mind right now. "I don't give a shit about her," you admit. "God, you're so wet, baby." You can feel your own excitement between your legs, can see how your windows are starting to fog up as both of your breaths heat the air.

She lets out a moan, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. "That's right. Because you're mine." Her nails dig into the flesh of your forearm, a threat to scratch you up if you so much as attempt to move away. 

Your fingers slip inside. Two at once. Amber normally likes to play the long game and build up to more, letting you tease her with one sliding in and out until she screams at you for more. But the thrill of the danger and anger and jealousy is getting to both of you. Her hips grind and wind as she rides your fingers, while your other hand desperately grips onto the wheel as you will yourself to concentrate on the road.

"Say it," Amber breathes out. "You're only mine."

A part of you thinks that'd be no fun. "You should've trusted me," you say instead. It's so much more fun when she's seething. It's like her anger is heating up her insides. She feels different. You curve your fingers inside her and she cries out.

"Fuck!"

"Yeah? You loving my fingers in your pussy?" You wriggle the two until you're pressing at the spot that always drives Amber crazy. But it's clumsy. You never use this hand and eventually it'll cramp up and get tired. You know you're doing your job well when she digs her nails in even harder and her hips thrust. Neither of you give a shit when the car behind you honks and overtakes you.

She's too wound up right now, too far gone. Her mouth twists into a vicious smile that you can't see, but you can hear it in her voice. "Y-you wish," Amber struggles out. "You think you're so good. I'm using you here, not the other way around."

She rides your fingers like that for a few minutes. As you had suspected, the lack of practice means that your forearm is already getting tired. As hot as this is, you can't pump as easily as you could if you were on a bed, not worrying about driving. You can tell that Amber is getting frustrated. Maybe that's making it better.

Everything is a blur of rage and lust until you realise you've driven right past her house. Whatever. You're dying to stop the goddamn car and set Amber right. You slam the brakes now that there's no car behind you to hit, sending the car lurching to a stop. Your fingers slide deeper into her cunt with the movement and it makes her scream.

You pull into a residential side street, one even quieter than the rest. Finding a spot to turn off the engine and throw the car into park is easy enough when your brain is putting I need to fuck her right now over safety.

The second that ignition goes off, Amber is already on you. You slip your tired hand away, the other going to her leggings and slipping them off. Her expression is still twisted in that rage that never quite goes away—she hates you, she hates you, she hates you—but she loves you so much when you shove three fingers into her.

You feel her tongue invading your mouth, probing and searching, while her hands continue to grip and claw at your clothes. It's like she's trying to claim you; she wants to take away all evidence of you being your own person, to take away your control.

"Is this what you wanted?" Amber whispers against your mouth. "Why do you make me feel like? You want to see me like this? Huh?"

It's reckless and out of control and perfect. You don't even care that any second you could get caught. You could lose yourself in this moment, in this golden haze that illuminates your fogged up windshield. The car's starting to sway with your movements.

"How do I make you feel, baby?" Her pussy feels so good as you surge your fingers in deeper. "Tell me."

"Like I'm going crazy," she whispers, her voice breaking a little with emotion. It's too much. It was too much then at the party, when she saw you dancing with some other girl, too much when you started touching her. 

Everything about what you're doing to her is bringing Amber closer and closer to that point of no return. "Like you're making me crave you." Her hips rock against you again, her breasts soft as they rub against you too.

This is Amber making you feel the way you make her feel. When you dance with other girls, when you don't text back for hours, when you forget your anniversary. Every time you brushed off an insult and didn't let a fight escalate, this is what she wanted. How pent up she must have been, swallowing down the rage and accepting your apologies.

Amber whines when your thumb grazes against her clit. Every bit of her feels like it's tingling and she's practically soaking your lap at this point. "I hate you but I can't live without you." Amber sounds like she's on the verge of tears. "It scares and excites me at the same time. I—I've never cared this much."

You keep pumping right back into her, never stopping, only growing more and more intense. Her body trembles but you're holding her. Amber's hands grasp at your forearm again, like she can't decide whether to push you away or pull you in. You don't know what to say. She was enjoying the fight earlier, instigated it even, but she's so vulnerable now.

"You're the only one I want," is what you end up settling on. Your thumb stops those teasing grazes now, rubbing against her clit proper. Her wetness makes it so easy. "And I am yours."

This is what makes Amber shudder and dissolve in your arms. The tension finally breaks and she starts squirming against you, fingers lodged so deep into her body it's like you're grazing at something deeper, body shaking violently. She's so close, so impossibly close, a moment of pure ecstasy that lasts seconds before falling apart in a burst of heat and pleasure.

"You're mine!" This she shouts so loud you'd be surprised if the entire neighbourhood didn't wake up.

You two fall silent for a moment, both taking slow, shuddering breaths. Amber can feel her brain is still short circuiting, trying to calm down; it's like her stomach has been replaced with a ball of fire.

"Still hate me?" you whisper, leaning in to kiss Amber.

"Just shut up, okay," she murmurs, kissing back happily now, her voice still raw from the edge of tears and the intense orgasm that had wracked her body. "Don't ever do that again."

[mamawasatesttube]

ok i put a longer post abt tim's Emotional State in drafts for when my brain is less melted but re: tim and going to college im just gonna get a lil silly with it. hear me out.

i have this whole vague story in my mind for tim's college days moonlighting as red robin as he tries and figures out what he wants out of life. (it's a while after rr leaves off and all because he's like. Super Depressed for a hot minute and then has to drag himself through actually bothering to get his GED and applying to college, etc., but eventually lucius is like hey. you're great with gadgets, and you clearly love tinkering. i'd hire you for r&d in a heartbeat but you need at the least a bachelor's of engineering. i know you have a lot of the technical skills, but you need a degree. so tim goes ugh fine i'll get a goddamn engineering degree how hard can it possibly be.)

anyways. i think it's a universal experience that if you go to college and you hang with the STEM crowd, you will unfortunately get to know at least one Fucking Guy. it's like brentwood arc; tim does make friends, but there is just this One Fucking Guy he cannot stand and will never stand. this Fucking Guy is in the common room playing his guitar at midnight. he's drunk and yelling and laughing really loud when people have exams coming up. he's convinced everyone adores him. there's also a detective/supernatural plot going on. the subplot is just that tim hates This Fucking Guy.

at some point, there's a story beat where he as red robin has to rescue That Fucking Guy from a real dicey situation, and That Fucking Guy is really shaken and grateful to him, and he's like okay. maybe. maybe we are making progress. but then the next time he encounters This Fucking Guy as tim drake, the guy is just like. "ohhhh hey drake you missed it last night, it was AWESOME!!! i had to save red robin from a KILLER ROBOT. he's pretty cool though i guess. i bet you wish you could be more like him huh??" and tim is just. I Will Not Grind My Teeth About This. I Will Not. his life is a fucking joke. he dismantles the toaster oven in the common room kitchen to cope. it's definitely to cope and not just so that That Fucking Guy won't be able to heat up his pop tarts in the morning.

at another point, This Fucking Guy looks at street mode, lowkey, unremarkable Normal Car-looking redbird and goes, aw, dude, i thought your dad is loaded?? he only got you a generic-ass sedan?? that sucks lol, if you want we can take my car down to the game instead. and tim is just Say One More Fucking Word About My Baby I Dare You I Fucking Dare You One More Fucking Word.

(also i like to toy with the idea of this being a university in metropolis - he's out of gotham, but not too far. keeps him from getting antsy about what if he's needed because he can get right back over there. and in the meantime, he can hang out with kon and kara a lot, and occasionally enable and be enabled by lois lane and her snooping habits. there's another subplot in which tim and lois get up to shenanigans. at least once.)

it's sort of an introspective thing of him trying to come to terms with the way he no longer wants a fully normal life the way he always used to assume he would - he has the option to walk away from the cape now, like he always thought he would one day, but he just can't give it up anymore. he's fallen into the same black hole he watched dick and bruce dive headlong into. it's also about him finding joy in tinkering and working with his hands and getting to spend more time as tim drake first and foremost. and it's about him venting to kon about That Fucking Guy while they have a lil picnic on the green while kon loses his absolute shit laughing. all against the backdrop of a little mystery or something. <3

OH and also, most importantly. zoanne wilkins is there and laughing at him for assuming college would be easy. and kon gets her into wendy the werewolf stalker. My City Now.

[hopeluna]

!! Fic Recs

Most of these are long fics or series and some of these are 18+ so be aware? But anyways, enjoy these works from absolute writing angels <33

Jujutsu Kaisen

Symptoms & Causes by @lostfracturess

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

Love Entries by @chuluoyi

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: series of episodes of your life with the strongest sorcerer throughout the past and present

men are so quick to blame the gods by @awearywritersworld

Sukuna x reader

Synopsis: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night.

wanna be yours by @nezuscribe

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

his kiss, the riot by @nezuscribe

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: the king has been struck by never-ending grief when he found out about his wife's infidelity. he has her ordered to be killed, but afterward, he is no longer the same. every night he marries a woman, and every morning he has her killed. the endless cycle continues until the night you're chosen to be his wife. instead of letting him ruin you, you tell him a story. you tell him a story that he just has to know the ending to. and so begins the story of one thousand and one arabian nights.

i'd crawl home to her by @likelilacwine

Geto Suguru x reader

Summary: the god of the underworld brings his most valued prize home at the risk of tearing the realm itself apart.

Boku No Hero Academia

@andypantsx3

Yes, her entire blog. Pls each and every series of her is god send. I cannot reccomend this to you enough!!

pretty white dress by @gaybybirth

Dabi x reader

Synopsis: You're shelving books like normal at work when a new face comes into the store. And in a small town where everyone knows each other, a new face really stands out. Especially when it's one that makes you burn in ways you never have.

FILL MY LITTLE WORLD (RIGHT UP) by @shibaraki

Aizawa Shouta x reader

Synopsis: you are employed by aizawa shouta to nanny for his vulnerable adoptive daughter eri while he’s at work. as time passes you find yourself equally smitten with them both, longing for a more permanent place in their family.

please save me by @hitoshiyoshi

Platonic!young!shimura tenko x reader

Synopsis: you save shimura tenko

Stranger Things

Not Wholly Evil by @uglypastels

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

As you wish by @corroded-hellfire

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: When Eddie isn’t appreciated like he should be, his babysitter feels the need to step in and comfort him.

Living After Midnight by @munson-blurbs

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head.

Please do tell me if you want to be removed from this for whatever reason!!

[heartfullofleeches]

[tw: threats]

Midnight Caller Darling... - A reader fully aware and terrified of their stalkers. The yearning, unwanted presents and advances- the stares. They hate the stares most of all. Lingering glances burned into their skin, following them home and clinging to them no matter how hard they scrubbed and scratched them away. In their shower, their bedroom. Nowhere was safe from watching eyes. They were an infestation, a plague. Darling just wants them all to go away, but nobody will help them. Their calls had been ignored by police, ongoing cases thrown out and burned by detectives who swore their safety - all parties involved paid off with the deeper betrayal of passing their information off to the highest bidder.

They couldn't leave. This was their home, the town that raised them. Though its people had turned their backs on them they couldn't uproot their entire life so suddenly and who's to say their stalkers wouldn't chase after them once they fled - the very police who turned a blind eye writing their escape and subsequential disappearance as just another missing persons case.

They had enough. They were tired of being afraid in their own home. Tired of being afraid of going outside. They searched for something - anything to help them come to find everything they needed was written straight from the hands of their admirers and slipped under their front door.

Phone numbers. Once it was clear nobody would save them, their stalkers shed almost every inch of anonymity and became bolder in their demands and approach. They left numbers, places to meet. Pretty much everything except their real names.. Cowards. One night Reader realized they could have the same wall of mystery as their watchers and ventured out to the payphone down the street. It was dangerous to go out so late, but there were just so much racing through their head they had to do something to gain a moment's rest.

They dialed the first number, granted seconds to put everything in their brain to words as the phone rang. They begs so many nights to be free, it was time for a different approach. If they showed fear or even an ounce of weakness it'd mark them permanently as an easy target. They had to be the one that was feared, a force to be reckoned with. They need to be worse than their stalkers. Threaten them and make them fear every waking moment alive - just like them.

"I..... I have a knife... I have a knife and... I'll stab it through your fucking eye if I ever see you again."

Did they really just say that? The words flowed so naturally from their lips it felt as if they'd rehearsed them their whole life. It felt good. Freeing. Their body hadn't felt so light in ages. They felt in control. Powerful.

"I'll gouge them both out... then you'll never be able to stare at anyone else again. I'll be the last person ever see.. You'd like that - wouldn't you?... stupid bitch."

Its the most fun they've had in years - even before all this began. They never wanted to come down from this high. They were free. Finally free.

"Slut... Think showing a bit of skin will make everyone love you? You're worthless. Nothing more than a cheap fuck. If you ever talk to another person like you do now I'll cut out that pretty tongue and rearrange your guts in ways you aren't used to. We'll see who think you're oh so cute and innocent when I put your head in a trash bag."

"There've been so many times where I could kill you. So many times I could just wrapped my hands around your throat and just - squeezed til you finally shut your mouth for good. One of these days... one of these fucking days..."

"Hahaha, I'll kill you. You hear me, bitch?! I'll slit your fucking throat and fuck you til the warmth leaves your body. It's all you're good for anyway. You stupid whore. Disgusting pig. hahaha - HAHAHA."

In a way their calls work. There aren't as many eyes on them anymore - bashful and reserved by the depravity their darling has whispered to them in the dead of night. It's almost romantic most think. Being the outlet for every twisted thought and frustion their love has had to endure. Figures who once waited outside their door wait patiently each night for their midnight call unable to fall asleep without the verbal assaults and threats of the one they hold dearest to heart.

[alexendria-rose]

Midnight Rain

Sherlock Holmes X Reader

warnings: NONE, well maybe like slight cussing?

A/n- I actually hate this one, I wanted to write something but my brain isn't working so enjoy my junk lol

Rain, he wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain He wanted a bride I was making my own name Chasing that fame He stayed the same All of me changed like midnight

Y/n sat on her couch thinking of her past, about the one love she let go. Sherlock Holmes. The now famous consulting detective, she didn't know him as the famous detective. She knew him as a teenage boy full of curiosity and life, before he even became a detective, before he became closed off and distant. She didn't know the Sherlock Holmes everyone else did, she knew the boy who loved her, who never wanted to let go. She thought about the first time she met Sherlock.

My town was a wasteland Full of cages, full of fences Pageant queens and big pretenders But for some, it was paradise

Y/n sat alone on the grass as she looked at the other teenagers walking around her hell of a school, now she didn't really miss America and the people, but she loathed more that she had to be the new girl. Especially in a whole new state. She looked next to her seeing girls walking towards her, she smiles widely excited to finally make some new friends.

"Is it true that all Americans are fat?" One of the girl says to her smacking her gum in a most disturbing manner, the other girl laughs.

"I mean look at her, of course its true." She wickedly grins. Y/n heart drops- looking down at the sandwich she was about to take another bite of.

"Wow Alice so original, isn't it true that your parents are divorcing?" A voice speaks up behind her. Y/n looks back seeing a tall boy with curly brown hair and blue eyes. She crinkles her eyebrows wondering why this boy was defending her.

"You freak! this is why nobody likes you." The girl huffs walking away from Y/n and the mysterious boy, the other girls following behind her looking back at the two with disgust on their faces. He looks down at Y/n giving her a small smile before sitting himself down next to her.

"Don't bother with them." He says before sticking his hand out. "Names Sherlock Holmes." Y/n laughs softly grabbing his hand and shaking it.

"Y/n, Y/n L/n." She grins. Sherlock chuckles looking down at her book that was by her side.

"So romance books?" He questions tilting his head with a sly smirk. "No taste for literature I see?" Y/n shakes her head rolling her eyes.

"Romance books are great, have you ever read one?" She questions holding her book tightly against her chest.

"No, I don't touch those books." He says slightly gagging at the way he says 'those books.'

"How about you actually try to read one and come back to me with that." She says grinning, mostly she just wanted an excuse to talk to him again.

"Fine, but I'm telling you. I'm not going to enjoy it." He says standing up from the ground. "I'll see you around Miss L/n."

Y/n sighs standing up from the couch walking towards her book shelf running her finger over the dusted books, she couldn't read books the same. Not after everything that happened between them.

My boy was a montage A slow-motion, love potion Jumping off things in the ocean I broke his heart 'cause he was nice

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain He wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain He wanted a bride I was making my own name Chasing that fame He stayed the same All of me changed like midnight

"What do you mean your going back to America? and just before we go off to college!" Sherlock shouted gripping onto the book he was holding. Y/n's lip wobbled.

"I'm going to college there..." Her voice said with a slight waver to it. She noticed her and sherlock were getting closer, her feelings were getting stronger and she couldn't let herself get hurt, so she picked the furthest college to run away, to never look back.

"And you've decided to not tell me until the week you're supposed to leave?" His eyes piercing into hers, he moves closer to her grabbing her hand with his. "Don't, don't go please."

"I have to Sherlock, I have to leave." She mumbled not daring to look into his eyes. Sherlock notices this placing his hand on her cheek making her look into his eyes.

"Please I love you, god damnit I love you Y/n." He confesses his breathing becoming uneven from the confession lifting off his shoulder. "Please you cannot leave me, you cannot possibly not love me back."

"I don't." She whispers, she did oh god she did, but she couldn't hold him back with all these goals he had in his life. She was going to drag him down, so she did what she had to do. Let him go. Sherlock's heart drops; his eyes widening as he stepped back away from her dropping his hand as he does.

"Your lying." He mutters shaking his head. "Have fun in college Y/n. Just know you're the only girl I will ever love." He throws the book at her feet looking at the cover 'pride and prejudice.' Y/n falls onto her knees picking up the book her tears clouding her eyes.

Y/n picks up the old book, somehow still smelling like him. It engulfed her nostrils, the smell of old books, the smell of Sherlock. She never loved a man like Sherlock Holmes, and now that she was back in London he was all around her. She opens the book for the first time looking at the little writings that Sherlock had made, all for her, her eyes caught the note that was on the first page.

My Dearest Y/n

If you got this book, it means I finally told you.

I've loved you since the first moment you walk through those doors.

Your eyes bright and unaware of your surroundings.

You were the first person I was able to be close to, the first person

that I let into my heart. I cannot wait to see what our life together

ends up to be.

all my love,

Sherlock Holmes.

Y/n hand trembled reading those words on the book, this was all dedicated for her. The boy who didn't love easily, let her in and she ruined it. She ruined it all because of her being scared of holding him back for what he wanted in life. Y/n shakes her head grabbing the coat that was beside her knowing she needed some air.

She walked out of her flat the wind of London hitting her face, the fresh air letting her breath out her thoughts. Y/n started walking keeping her eyes at her feet not letting anyone disrupt her thoughts.

So I peered through a window A deep portal, time travel All the love we unravel And the life I gave away

Sherlock looked out the window letting the violin consume his thoughts. John sat in his chair deep dived into his computer looking for cases for him and Sherlock.

"How about this case?" John pipes up, but Sherlock wasn't paying attention completely ignoring his friend, his mind elsewhere as he continued to stare at the window.

"I'm going out, don't wait for me." Sherlock says setting his violin down on his chair, grabbing his scarf and coat before slipping it on.

"While your out, would you please grab milk?" John says rolling his eyes knowing his friend never grabs anything for the flat.

"Sure sure." He mumbles not even listening to John as he dashed out of the flat.

Sherlock walks out of the main door the air hitting his face. He couldn't stop thinking about her. He thought of her every case he went to, every book he saw, every girl that looked like her. He thought about her. He told himself he would never care for someone like that again, he would shut himself out, he told himself love was a defect so he never fell for someone like that ever again. She was the first person he opened up to, she was the first person that saw Sherlock Holmes as Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock kept his head down as he let his feet take him wherever he wanted, he knew this town from the back of his hand-

"Oh I'm sorry!" The girls voice perks up after bumping into her, Sherlock looks down at what she dropped his heart thumping against his chest 'pride and prejudice.' Sherlock clears his throat getting himself out of his daze, he picks up the book handing it to her. He locks eyes with her; eyes widening at the familiar eyes boring into his. He could never forgot those eyes, the eyes of innocence, the eyes he fell in love with. Y/n heart drops at the sight of him, she reaches for the book her hand shaking as she grabs the book.

"Y/n." Sherlock whispers under his breath, he eyes the book in her hands. Y/n looks at sherlock not knowing what to say, but instead she observed him. His hair was longer, curly and handsome just like it was in high school, his eyes were still bright but more dimmed. "So I see you have the book." Her brain snaps back in reality staring at him.

"Um Hi." Is all she managed to breath out, all the feelings she pushed to the side so long ago came back even harder almost knocking all the air out of her. Sherlock smiles softly.

"So hi is all you have after what happened?" He asks crossing his arms over his chest a smug smile on his face. "Wow I thought you were more intelligent then that." Y/n rolls her eyes pushing her way past Sherlock, but he stops her by grabbing her wrist. "No you don't get to leave me again." Y/n turns around looking at him.

"Why? I did you a favor Sherlock Holmes, look at you now." Her voice wavering slightly at the way the emotions started tugging at her heart. "You are a consulting detective, you are so smart and you became to be one of the greatest that people have ever seen." Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows.

"No, no that's not what I wanted." He pulls her off to the side getting away from the middle of the sidewalk. "Ever since I lost you I've been miserable, I told you that day I would never love someone like I will with you and I haven't. I push everyone away." He whispered. Her eyes lock with his.

"Sherlock-"

"No, no you are not pushing away from me, not again. I know you think you are helping me, but you're not." He confesses. "You're hurting me, I know you love me, it hurts to know you love me but you wont tell me." Y/n looks down at her shoes before letting her gaze back on his eyes her throat getting tighter knowing she was about to confess everything she thought of for years.

"I love you Sherlock Holmes. I was scared, I knew how great you could be and I didn't want to hold you back. I'm just me, and your Sherlock." She confessed.

"Just you? Y/n L/n you've had my heart for 10 years, 10 bloody years. I've thought about you every single day." He mumbles before cupping her cheeks- eagerly but gently placing his lips on her, her lips were just how he imagined it to be soft and gentle warming his heart with just her lips against his. He pulls back placing his forehead on hers. "Don't ever leave me again please, I don't think I cannot bare it." Y/n giggles lightly placing a delicate hand on his cheek.

"I cannot bare the thought of leaving you again, you're stuck with me William Sherlock Holmes"~

[dinsfire24]

Neither of Us Will be Missed

a little something i wrote in a haze at midnight. i've had this idea in my head for a while and it has finally possessed me and forced me to put it on paper. dont mind any pacing errors or spelling errors or grammar errors, the words simply flowed from my fingers and i did not read them again after they left my brain

WARNINGS: blood/violence/injury, probably not canon compliant since i didnt look anything up, madeleine and gunnar's relationship is abusive but it doesn't show much yet

"Come on, boys, we can settle thi-"

Brass knuckles collided with Stan's jaw before he could finish his sentence. He stumbled backwards and fell flat on his ass. Stars danced in his vision, a fuzzy halo appearing around the harsh fluorescent lights of the warehouse.

Reggie stepped into his field of view and crouched down to look him in the eye. With a sneer, he told Stan, "Only way we're settling is if you cough up our cash."

Tony popped out from behind Reggie, grinning like the maniac he was. "And you ain't got any cash, Sam," he taunted in that awful sing-song voice.

Stan's mind raced as he searched for a way out of this. He put on his best salesman's smile, despite the coppery taste welling up in his mouth. "Just give me a week, tops," he told them, injecting calmness and bravado into his voice. "I'll get it all to you- plus a little extra for your troubles!"

Wrong thing to say. Reggie's face twisted in disgust, while Tony didn't bother hiding his sadistic glee. The latter's hand darted out and grabbed Stan's wrist, dragging him roughly to his feet; he tried to pull away, but the crazy bastard had an iron grip.

Reggie's gaze, which had been fixed on Stan, shifted to burning a hole in the back of Tony's head. The big boss's eyes narrowed. "Not yet, Tony."

The warning in his voice was enough to make Stan shudder. He'd heard the same tone many times, usually right before a beating. Tony acted unruffled, but the flicker of fear in his eyes was a dead giveaway; he wasn't any safer from Reggie than the other sops in this dead-end town.

Still, the wiry man shot Reggie a shit-eating grin. "Don't be like that, Reg. I was just gonna rough him up a little. Y'know, knock some sense into him!"

Reggie squared his shoulders and opened his mouth. Fortunately for everyone, the distant sound of a whistle cut him off.

Tony jerked away from Stan like he'd been burned. A few of the goons surrounding them simply booked it, and the rest didn't seem much better, brandishing their weapons and whispering amongst themselves. Even Reggie himself stiffened at the sound.

Stan slowly crept away, trying to bring himself closer to the back door. No one even looked at him; they were all staring at the entrance to the warehouse. What the hell was going on?

His answer came in the form of a door flying through the air. A dozen people poured through the new opening, led by a tall, muscular woman dressed in black combat gear. She bolted towards Reggie and Tony, who finally started moving—away from the lady in black.

A gunfight quickly broke out around them, sending the warehouse into chaos. Stan hauled himself into a storage crate so he could watch things play out.

Seeing Tony run wasn't too surprising. The man was a rat who ditched at the first sign of trouble, and he was probably thanking his lucky stars that he wouldn't get thrashed tonight. Reggie, though...

Reggie was a mountain of a man with a thousand dirty tricks up his sleeves, not too different from Stan himself. Unlike Stan, though, he never backed down from a fight. He had his goons do the dirty work for him most of the time, but when it came down to it, he was always able to finish the job. And yet here he was, backing away as this mystery woman sprinted towards him.

She gained on Reggie quick, too, even after he broke into a run. She didn't slow down for a moment. Not when she tackled him to the ground, not when she brought her fist down like lightning to his face, not when he thrashed desperately in an attempt to throw her off, and not even when he finally stopped moving. She just leapt to her feet and darted off to find her next target.

Chaos surrounded him. People on both sides dropped like flies—although the Graverobbers seemed to be losing many more than the newcomers were. It would be the perfect time for Stan to leave. No one would notice he was gone until after it was all over.

And yet all he could do was stare at this frenzied whirlwind of a woman. She moved like she was trying to tear the world apart, one thundering step at a time. And she never stopped, either. He wondered what would happen once she'd knocked out or killed everyone in the room. Would she turn on her allies and tear them apart too? Or would she simply cease to exist without someone to fight?

It seemed that soon, Stan would find out. After Reggie had gone down, most of the Graverobbers had gotten the hell out of dodge. The rest became easy pickings for Mystery Woman and her friends.

He sighed as he hunkered down in the crate. He should have left when he had the chance; now he was likely to get shot if he tried to escape. All he could do was wait it out and pray nobody had noticed him.

Unfortunately, it seemed like his luck had run out. Mystery Woman went straight for him after she finished off her final target. He tensed, preparing to dive out of the way when she tackled him, until—

Another whistle rang out. Mystery Woman stopped in her tracks, head snapping towards the source: a thin man in a perfectly pressed suit, walking through the broken doorway. "Down, Madeleine," he said with a strange half-smile.

Mystery Woman—Madeleine—shot Stan a puzzled, irritated look. "But he's..."

The man shook his head. "He's one of us."

That left Stan as confused as Madeleine had been a moment ago, but it seemed to assuage her concerns. She blinked, the tension draining from her shoulders. After peering around the warehouse for a moment, she said cautiously, "We're done here."

"Not quite," the man replied coolly. "You and I have business with this poor, lost soul."

He nodded to Stan, who would have protested that if Madeleine hadn't been there. Considering the fact that he'd just watched her rip through half of a gang without stopping, though...

He swallowed his feelings and put his salesman's smile back on. "The name's Sam Parker. It's, uh, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Madeleine just stared at him, but the man in the suit smiled and held out his hand. "Gunnar Cooke, at your service. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

As Stan went for the handshake, Gunnar leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You know, you don't seem to have anywhere else to go. Mind coming with us and answering a few questions?"

He stiffened. A few questions? Yeah, right. This guy had bad news written all over him. Then again, if he walked away here, Gunnar would probably just send Madeleine after him...

So, even though he could think of many reasons why he shouldn't, Stan just smiled. "Eh, why not?"

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

What's Up

Hello 50-odd followers I've gained in the last two weeks! You may have signed up for the Starkid content, but surprise! You also get me writing a full-ass response to the latest episode of Shipwrecked's The Case of the Greater Gatsby every week! If you haven't listened to it, please it give it a try. It's a hoot and two halves!

As ever, spoilers for Episode 11 (already??) under the cut.

First of all, I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE LOCATION OF THE TAPES! This was a fairly basic thing to be right about, but seeing as there really are so many threads (lmao that SONG) complicating this story, I'm going to take the victories I can get. And we can't say it wasn't fun listening to Fig repeatedly fail at the not-so-simple task of getting Sheila to leave her own living room.

The real highlight of the episode, however, was Ford's interview with Vivian. My beloved Fightingale were back and in full force today, folks. Ford definitely feels like something's off with Vivian--though it's unclear if he's clocked what @katvantassel pointed out weeks ago about Vivian knowing that Fitzgerald was strangled before Fig or Ford could tell her. And her alibi is definitely sketchy--almost like something she specifically designed in hopes of making Ford uncomfortable or short-circuiting his brain. Also, the way Vivian and Mo say the details of that night out loud to each other sounds very much like they're concocting their story together then and there. It's interesting to note that Mo's corroboration explicitly covers midnight and afterwards, since we know thanks to Jasper Fox that Fitzgerald was killed in that exact time period. Could that even possibly be a coincidence? And more generally, are Mo and Vivian in cahoots? That would explain how Vivian prematurely knew about the asphyxiation, but would really bring into question why she needs Fig and Ford when there's a cop at her beck and call. Unless, of course, Barnaby is too powerful to be investigated by the police force, so she has to use our favorite detectives to frame or point the finger at her husband instead...

But then again, there's the Bixby angle to it all. If Mo really is trying to bring down Bixby, why would the bar's favorite performer be working with him? I suppose they could be two completely separated plot points. Or maybe Vivian's making a play to claim Bixby's as her own? After all, we do know she doesn't hold the highest esteem for Bixby's other acts... AHHHH. SO MANY THREADS!

Speaking of which, "Too Many Threads" was an absolute smooth bop, with cleverly meta lyrics, a tantalizingly pointed final verse (is Vivian taunting Ford?), and that perfect combination of Dylan Glatthorn's songwriting and Mary Kate Wiles' voice that we've come to know and love. Please release this song soon, Shipwrecked! I will buy it from you! (Bonus points for also including Clark's Cole Porter cover from last week!)

In other news, it turns out that Bixby, so helpful this episode in recapping all of the various mysteries and cases, was not in fact lying about his financial issues in order to cover up for the Brigade. His landlord, Old Bob, has been drastically raising the rent! Could this have anything to do with anything else, or is it just typically vampiric landlord shenanigans?

AND THAT CLIFFHANGER OF AN ENDING! Oh Persauds, this is the cruelest thing you've done yet. I can't wait to hear from Fitzy himself next episode!

[pb-dot]

WIP Wednesday: What Next

So those who follow my work on The Clockwork Boy may have noticed that I recently finished the preliminary edit of the thing at the end of last week. The question does come naturally, what is next. Now that I'm back in the land of the conscious after floating fundamentally disconnected from the world for a few days, it's time to answer the question, and it's Wednesday. Isn't that convenient?

Truth be told, I'm kind of dragging my feet on the next step on TCB. I know the end goal is to get published, but the steps between that and now seem a bit fuzzy to me. I need to rope in some beta readers, decide whether to try for an agent, or just start bothering small publishers directly. The main problem here this that all of these require being Percieved, and I don't exactly love that. One of these days, though, I'll drink too much coffee and get it done.

Next up is the question of what I'll write next, for there is no doubt in my mind I need to write for my brain to work properly. I plan to participate in NaNoWriMo, but I am struggling a little bit with choosing which novel idea I'll aim for. I could very well write The Clockwork Guardian, the first sequel to TCB in which we meet some new antagonists, Adrian falls ill, and Jake loses something very important. On the other hand, I also kind of want a small Hearts In Clockwork break.

My other two options, as I have alluded to earlier, are the following: The Artist: A slow-burn horror (maybe romance?) following an art critic on an obsessive quest to meet an infamous artist whose art allegedly drives people into violent rage or acts of debauchery. Once he manages to meet the guy he seems almost too nice, although it is admittedly kind of weird that the doors in his isolated alpine home lock automatically at midnight.

Draugr: A young couple moves to rural Norway when one of them inhereits a house from a distant relation. The house is an odd, over-elaborate mansion built on a small island along the shore whose mysteries are almost as many as the required repair jobs. Try as they might, however, our protagonists can't quite seem to fit in with the locals enough to unravel either, seeing as just about everyone view them with apprehension, if it isn't outright hostility. More worryingly, there's a history of violence connected to the decaying grand construction, and on clear nights, strange lights can be seen from somewhere in the depths of the sea.

So it's going to be horror either way, but I haven't decided on which of these to try. Since I have plenty of time, my current plan is to sketch out an outline and synopsis for both and maybe get started on some character profiles, with a little luck one will feel more exciting to me than the other once I've fiddled with them a little.

Also in closing I will mention that I'm working on a little something for the Clockwork Boy fans this spooky month. Without spoiling too much it's supposed to be self-contained and explicitly non-canonical. If it's any good remains to be seen, but it'll probably be good fun for all involved, at least for certain values and interpretations of fun.

Tag List

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[acepandemi]

One of my favorite authors is the late Agatha Christie. And when I found out that a different author (Sophie Hannah) was/is writing new Poirot-mysteries "in the style of Agatha Christie", I was admittedly a little unsure about reading it.

Not because I had any kind of objection to this, I mean, hello, I read fanfiction with much enjoyment. But because, in my humble opinion, Agatha Christie's style would be really hard to imitate properly. (There are reasons why I never read fanfiction based on Agatha Christie's works or characters.) So I was just worried, I guess, that the new novels would fall flat somehow, and I wouldn't enjoy reading them.

I decided to give it a go recently anyway, and... well, I think I can best explain it like this:

A few years ago I first read Agatha Christie's "Curtain" (Poirot's last case). Couldn't put it down. Literally had to force myself to put it away at one point and go to bed because it was way past midnight and I need sleep. Then I dreamed about the book. Woke up and couldn't go back to sleep because I was thinking about the book. Got up cranky, took a shower, got dressed, had breakfast, then picked up the book and angrily told it: "You better have a really good ending or you're going straight in the trash!" (Yes, I was in such a book-daze I started talking to the damn thing.) I still have that book, so draw your conclusions from that. Had a book hangover for a week.

This week I started reading Sophie Hannah's new Poirot-mystery "The Killings at Kingfisher Hill". Distractions kept popping up, so I couldn't really get into reading the book untill yesterday. At 2 am I forced myself to put the damn book down and go to bed. Dreamed about the book 3 times! Seriously, I kept dreaming I finished reading the book, waking up briefly, then falling back asleep to dream up another ending, each one more outlandish than the next. After the third dream I'd had it, got up cranky, had breakfast, took a shower, got dressed, ran an errand I promised my dad, then sat down to finish the blasted book.

(It's a library book this time, so I couldn't threaten it with bodily harm, but I did yell out to the universe in general: "I am finishing this damn book today, so nobody bother me or else!")

The ending was really good. No spoilers, but a recommendation certainly!

So, yeah, I no longer have doubts. The new Poirot mysteries are definitely just as good as the old ones, imho at least. Kudos to Sophie Hannah!

I have a book hangover yet again, so the next book on my to-be-read pile is going to have to wait a little longer (sorry!), untill "The Killings at Kingfisher Hill" is no longer rattling around in my brain.

[praecurokat]

Ted Lasso Finale Thoughts- So Long, Farewell... (I do not know what to think!)

this episode being an hour and 15 minutes..after being released at midnight... that's just cruel.. my brain cannot operate properly under such conditions..

congrats Tedbecca shippers! oop watched more.. sorry Tedbecca shippers...

most normal Beard and Jane appearance in the series at Rebecca’s house in the beginning

writers were bringing the dramatic flair in this episode! first that thing with Isaac dressed as a judge in the beginning, and then a musical number! idk how i feel about that..

speaking of the musical number, i must regretfully inform the masses that idk what the song is from.. pls lmk in the comments.. i see that it relates to the episode title

ah yes Jane acting totally normal by shredding Beard's passport.. total ✨ marriage material ✨

Trent's shirt says sat 17 may.. could this be significant?? everything in this show is..

"You know, that might be a tasty little treat for the diamond dogs.” “No. No. No. No!”-Roy, soon to become a Diamond Dog in a moment of desperation

wait did Trent name his manuscript the lasso way awww

“I only got into this to ruin Rupert's life, and he seems to be doing a pretty good job of that himself.”- Rebecca

So. Many. Throwbacks. Keeley saying “Is everybody decent?”, Jamie using lots of axe body spray like S1, the cleaner walking in on everyone, and way more i can’t think of

the complicated web that is royjamiekeeley is still being spun.. in the last episode..

“Must be awful for them, lying awake at night, haunted by how fucking easy they’ve had it!”- Mae, to Rebecca’s mom

Trent watching Ted read his book.. heart eyes emoji

the way Ted looks at him.. i meannn is this even subtext anymore?

“So you do laugh, but you don't do it until page.. 43?! And it wasn't even a big laugh!”- Trent, while Ted is reading his manuscript

"Whatever happens on Sunday, I want you to know I’m proud of you. All the work you’ve put in this year."- Roy to Jamie, before proceeding to fistfight with him later

Both Roy and Jamie seem very contemplative this ep. What are they thinking??

i am so concerned about the current royjamie feud over Keeley... what is gonna happen here???

“Would you please stay?” and “I know, I just had to try.”- Rebecca, about Ted

lmao Keeley kicking both Roy and Jamie out after they asked her to choose

“You stay put, Trenthouse magazine. You’re part of the squad now.”- Ted, to Trent

“Yeah. Someone better. Can people change?”- Roy, also this is a central tenet of this damn show

“I don’t think we change per se, as much as we just learn to accept who we’ve always been, you know?” -Trent’s most beautiful quote thus far

aww Nate finally got his diamond dogs reaction to Jade

George being Rupert’s coach sent me.. like you Really couldn’t find anyone else?

I hate Rupert but I love his dramatic slay coat swish moments.. again reminds me of Uther’s drama queen antics

“I prefer rugby, there’s just more grown men throwing other grown men into the air like children. And blood. Which is nice." - Barbara

Bloodthirsty and mysterious? Barbara is a serial killer or vampire confirmed.

“Never forget, I am always inside you.” -Zava’s note, which also came with a giant avocado

Zorro has truly entered his superhero arc and Dani Rojas is his genius creator

the fourth thing has to be 'Believe'.. aand it was? Right?

AFC Richmond Women’s club.. i sense a spinoff show opportunity…. or they could just do a show about Trent

George has begun a redemption arc!! (Telling Rupert to fuck off)

Rupert's desperation and misery at the end is not entirely unreminiscent of Rebecca at the start of S1

yesss Colin got his kiss on the pitch!!

haha the same? person from S1E1 taking pics w Ted in the airport

damn so Beard’s going home too, thought Jane would've locked him away in a safe or smth… nvm

omg Amsterdam man has a child.. hmmm Rebecca’s prophecy may still be fulfilled

Roy becoming manager feels natural

Ofc Trent renamed his book ‘The Richmond Way’… never let them know your next move

that montage at the end…so much to process....

beardjane wedding marking the end of the series.. good or bad omen for the future? i think bad

seems very fitting the series ending the opposite of how it began.. Rupert's life ruined, Rebecca in love and not owner of the club, Roy and Jamie healing and bonding w others around them, and Ted back in America with family.

[ghcstreveries]

my name is [ ALASTAIR STEIN ] … and i am from [ SALEM MASSACHUSSETTS ] and i’m a [ PLAYWRIGHT ]. i lived in helltown for [ THREE YEARS ] because [ I MOVED HERE TO FIND INSPIRATION FOR MY WORK AND NOW I CAN'T SEEM TO BRING MYSELF TO LEAVE]. i am [ THIRTY EIGHT ] my pronouns are [ HE/HIM ] and i am [ INTELLIGENT, CREATIVE, AND PENSIVE ] though some may say i’m [ BROODING, RECLUSIVE, PRIVATE ]. i also hear i look a lot like [ HENRY CAVILL] but, i don’t know if i see it. i’m here because [ I WANTED TO FIND INSPIRATION FOR MY WORK AND I SUCCEEDED IN DOING SO ] but, maybe there’s more to it than that. you never know with helltown.

CHARACTER Basics

FULL NAME: Alastair Fairfax Stein

NICKNAME(S):

AGE: Thirty-Eight

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Man, he/him

FACE CLAIM: Henry Cavill

EYE COLOR: Green

HAIR COLOR: Black

HEIGHT: 6'2″

DATE OF BIRTH: October 14th

ZODIAC SIGN: Libra

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Quoth the Ravenclaw

OCCUPATION: Playwright, Novelist, Poet.......a bunch of different ways of saying he's a writer

HOMETOWN: Salem Massachusetts

FAMILY

mother: Josephine Fairfax father: Montgomery Fairfax older brother: Joseph Fairfax Younger sister: Emogene Fairfax All immediate family members are deceased

CHARACTER History

(Disclaimer: My brain isn't working tonight, but I need to get something up so I can start writing, so I'm just gonna give you a quick word vomit version of the character history for now and write something nicer later)

TW: Death, Fire, withcraft, occult

Okay so, basically, Alastair was born in Salem to a very wealthy and influential family who were big players within the community and made huge contributions to all of the different witchcraft and occult related stuff that goes on in the town. Growing up in a town where witchcraft is such a big part of the cultural identity is what sparked an interest in witchcraft and the occult and the supernatural in Alastair when he was young, and he soon expanded his fascination with the unexplained and unexplainable and started reading Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe at a very early age. He was only eleven years old when the Fairfax Manor mysteriously caught fire, and he was the only one of his family who survived thanks to the freak bit of luck that he wasn't in the house at the time, having snuck out in order to enjoy a midnight stroll. Despite investigations being conducted, the cause of the fire was never discovered and it's a mystery Alastair still lives with too this day. With all of his immediate family gone, he was sent to live with various distant relatives and had to constantly escape the plotting after his fortune from Count Olaf.

Oh wait.... wrong story.

No but in reality, he was sent to live with various relatives, but he acted out and was a bit of a problem child because duh his whole family died? And also he also had a dark and moody predisposition anyway because of his interest in the occult and supernatural, and so he never really found a real place to call home because he was bounced around so much. When he was 18, he inherited his family fortune, and proceeded to travel all around the world, starting in the United States before expanding elsewhere, learning all that he could about all manner of myths and legends. When he returned to America after being away for almost ten years, he did so with a massive book which was a compilation of short stories, poems, and plays he'd written in his travels, which he then self-published under the name of Alastair Stein. Though it certainly didn't reach insane heights on any best sellers lists or anything, the book rather quickly garnered a cult following, with the plays in particular being taken on by stage directors all around the country. Ever since then, Alastair has continued to write, finding a lot of success in a niche crowd that consider him to be an enigmatic genius. He moved to Helltown because he felt it was the perfect atmosphere for finding inspiration for his work, and because it felt like it added to his enigmatic presence; like, of course the strange and reclusive writer lives in a place called Helltown.

In terms of his personality, Alastair is an interesting figure. He's very intelligent and creative, but he is also deeply private, quiet, and tends to stick to himself. He also tends to dress like he was born in about the 1851, but that's kind of just part of his whole deal, I guess. He often takes walks by himself through the town, and will be pleasant enough if approached. But very few ever penetrate and actually get to know the real him, because he keeps everybody at a distance for, what he feels, is as just as much their sake as it is his own

I made a joke about A Series of Unfortunate Events earlier, but like, a big part of the inspiration for Alastair as a character is Lemony Snicket. Just in the sense like, Snicket is a character within his own work, and is something of a mystery because he's written himself to be. Alastair is similar in that I imagine fans of Alastair Stein the author are interested in him and have this certain idea of him being a certain way and so he plays into that by having tailored his own life towards suiting that narrative. It's not really much of a stretch from who he already is, but it does play a role in why he does certain things (Such as living in Helltown, as I touched on earlier)

Oh and I guess I should mention that his genre of writing is horror, in case that wasn’t obvious from everything else I’ve said about him.

Anyways! Feel free to message me if you would like to plot <3

[grootficguy]

On the subject of utilising AI as a ghostwriter, I’d like to comment on a particularly rough patch of writer’s block, and how AI helped me bypass that writer’s block in a way you won’t expect.

I struggled with the direction of my WIP novel for about four months. Mostly due to working on my Masters and juggling my 8-4 job every day. While I had an idea of where I wanted the novel to start and end, and I knew how to fabricate the mystery element of the story throughout the narrative, there came a point where I was stuck. It seemed like none of the characters had any motive to advance the plot, and there was no way to actively advance the plot without summoning a Deux Ex Machina to do the dirty work.

A friend of mine told me to put a plot outline into ChatGPT, alongside a fuzzy outline of the direction the novel will take. I was apprehensive, as I felt like this was a real-life Deus Ex Machina. Regardless, I asked my little literary robot friend to finish off the story, and I detailed the characters: Charlie, a 16-year-old Necromancer stalked by a dark spirit, Danika, a 15-year-old genius with the power of mind control, Kagemaru, a 17-year old Demonologist who uses his magic to hunt demons, and Ben, a 16-year-old Warlock who manipulates shadows to become a deadly assassin.

After five minutes of beep-boopery, its digital brain cells whirring in the bottom left corner, the AI produced the next three chapters of my novel, bridging the gap between my writer’s block and the scenes I had already planned in my head.

And it was such utter dogshit, I was inspired by nothing but pure, white-hot hatred for authors with AI ghostwriters that I furiously typed out four more chapters, had dinner at midnight and passed right out.

If God of Lies ever gets published, please buy it to spite these robocucks.

[rust-bearer]

Hmmm… I come bearing brain gifts.

As someone who has spent a good portion of my life living with 10+ family members in an average sized house on and off (not enough room, never enough room), I’m curious how things would work for our resident apocalypse survivors. From my experience, at least, children typically aren’t as affected? At certain ages, at least, and it depends on the personality, of course. Anyway:

• This feels like a good layout, so… I’m assuming the kids probably spend most of their time together as a whole. The oldest takes care of them, the younger ones probably get that I’m a big brother/sister/sibling now mindset and “Take Care” of the youngest (super serious about it, too. First Aid probably thinks it’s adorable while also being mildly terrified for them). They watch out for each other, etc etc.

• I’m just gonna go ahead and assume that the Combaticons are always, always either together or invading each other’s space. Whether it’s sneaking into the kitchen at midnight while everyone else sleeps and accidentally waking the entire fucking house with what sounds like the most dramatic home invasion ever, baking huge breakfast spreads on the “weekends” (who even knows what day it is anymore, someone keeps count as the weeks go by and properly designates certain days as Weekend Days) and ultimately ending with a very tasty feast but very, very messy kitchen, standing around in the only bathroom for an hour after getting into excited talks and debates while someone stands outside pounding on the door because they actually need in there, goddamnit, and just…

• I dunno, I would guess the Combaticons are just generally seen as this family unit that wouldn’t hesitate to murder an entire store full of the undead but also like to cuddle up on their huge couch for VHS tape nights and premade popcorn that expired about six months ago.

• I could be alone in my assessment, but I see First Aid as a sort of loner, but not in that “mysterious and edgy” way, just kind of an anxious person naturally who needs lots of downtime to process things. He probably spends lots of time wandering the farm, keeping an eye on the kids (who are almost always playing outside, weather permitting) and checking up on the farm equipment, the dog, Butcher Meat Cow, other survivors… he worries about everyone, and he worries about the future, and he worries about the present, and—well, his mind races constantly. He needs some downtime, some alone time, just time away from interacting and socializing to just decompress. It’s tough sometimes, seeing the Combaticon family, the kids, the fellow survivors, and knowing that his family, his brothers, are probably still out there, either barely making it by or lurching about the world with rotting flesh and an insatiable desire for humans.

• Sleeping arrangements again: I’m guessing the children probably sleep very close together, not like dog piles or anything, but back to back, rows of tiny little bodies tucked inside shredded sleeping bags and stacked blankets/pillows.

• When it comes to sleeping, I can imagine the Combaticons probably just nap throughout the day. There isn’t really a “bed” or specific time frame. If they’re tired, they’ll sleep. This helps a lot for safety and protection of the home, since there’s less than a 1% chance all five of them will be asleep at the same time.

• First Aid probably sleeps in the same room as the children, to be honest. He doesn’t like to be apart from them; not in the beginning, at least. At the same time, it helps him keep an eye on everyone, he can make sure they’re safe, he can make sure no one’s sick, and if they wake up from a bad dream, he’s right there.

• Final thoughts for this: some people are morning people, some people are night owls… with so few grown adults, it isn’t that big of a deal. First Aid isn’t much of a morning or night person anymore, to be honest. The overall lack of sleep has left him chronically exhausted, drained from constant anxiety and the stress of their current situation. I’d say it differs for the Combaticons, though. Maybe half are early risers, the other half night owls. Either way, they’re kind of… loud. In such a small house (how did they end up with such a small house?? Didn’t Swindle spend, like, a shit-ton on the place?), noise travels very well. During the night, First Aid is usually kept up by talking and laughing that filters up through the vents from the floor beneath him. In the morning, the sound of slamming pots and pans and drawers being repeatedly open and closed is constant, and doesn’t usually stop. It only gets worse as more people wake up for the day. On his next supply run, he’s gonna have to find some noise canceling headphones or something. The kids seem unaffected, at least, which… well, it’s a blessing.

I think that’s all for the moment. If you have any other ideas for what you think it’d be like to share such a small space with so many people, I’d love to hear them!

Distinct childhood memories of my young nephew waking up super early to watch television, but he kept the volume up extremely high, so everyone would wake up telling him to turn it down (he would not). Imagining that but with deciding to make breakfast or shouting matches or etc

It’s a zombie cliche but I imagine first aid would stand the best shot at finding a cure for the zombie infection, based off of him in canon- or it could be the opposite, I’d have to think about it. Either way, giving him a reason to go on scavenging runs to hospitals and libraries and labs. (BARING pharma of course but. Is he even alive in this version? Who knows! Could be)

On the topic of water: they likely have lots of houseplants. Someone in first aid’s original safehouse had them, and the kids took them with them, and they don’t even need clean water so it’s incredibly easy to tend to them. Gives someone a hobby too

[matenrou-fan]

Jakurai comforts you after nightmare

I love to post small things like hc but decided that I should write something larger too, I want to make more work with plot

NB reader, comfort, cuddles, fluff;; 1167 words

It's was after midnight, as you suddenly wake up almost gasping as you look around with terrified eyes. It's takes you a few moments to realise that you are not dreaming anymore, but sitting in your safe dark bedroom as your boyfriend sleep next to you, looking pretty unbothered. You sigh and lay down again, trying to be as quiet as you can. He's a doctor, after all, he need to receive his full night's sleep so he can treat people without any problems.

But it was so hard to fall asleep again. Even in your comfy bed that was pretty warm you feel so cold, you can't stop trembling as your mind return to this nightmare again and again. Despite you feel sleepy and your head hurt a little after you woke up so sudden, you heart was beating so fast, sending waves of anxiety through your body. You shrugs, trying to think about something good but it was hard. If it was a day you would just open your phone and watch tik tok for a little while, short funny videos makes you brain quickly forget about something bad, or you would just call your boyfriend, his quiet deep voice always makes you feel so much easier even in hard times.

Your boyfriend.. You turn around to face him, his pale face look even more mysterious and angelic in night, as moonlight falling on his sleeping figure.. As soon as you open your mouth to call him quietly Jakurai open his eyes, a little bit sleepy but worried.

"Is something wrong, my dear..?" - his voice was more deeper after sleep, so beautiful and shooting, you already feel much easier just to bt the thought that he's also awake and that's he's here, next to you. But you just shake your head.

"Nothing.. I just.. just can't fall asleep, can I hug you?" - you ask shyly, looking away. He probably can't see your eyes in such dark but you still was a little bit ashamed to wake up him in the middle of the night before his long work shift.

"Of course, darling, come closer.." - he smiles softly as he put his long slim arms around your body, he's so warm after sleep. You feel a wave of goosebumps running through your full body as you hug him back, as you let out a short sigh.

Jakurai embrace you slowly as you nuzzle to his chest, hearing his peaceful heartbeat makes you feel easy, and his big arms around you looks like a shelter from everything bad, as if he protect your from all nightmares.

"So.. you wants to keep your secrets or willing to tell me..?" - Jakurai chuckle softly as he pat your head. He always read you so easily, even when he can't see your face, just by the way you act, by the way you voice changes.. It's tell him much more than you think.

"H.. how you..?"

"Darling. I'm your man, after all.." - he leaning closer and kiss the top of your head gently, your soft hair tickle him a little - "I can tell if something bothers you"

You sigh, a little bit ashamed of how quickly he realise everything. Always so caring and insightful, nothing can hide from his careful gaze, especially if it's something about you. Jakurai was your boyfriend just for few months but it's feels like you already spend eternity with him, just how good he know all your needs, habits and small details.

You tell him quietly about your nightmare, even in his protective hug you still shivers a little when think about this thing again.

"You don't need to talk about this if you don't want to, it would be easier for you to just forget it.." He notice how you get anxious again and hug you a little bit tighter but you shake you head once again.

"How can I relax, knowing that you feel bad?" - Jakurai sigh and take your cheek in his hand. So incredibly soft and warm, you close your eyes as you head leaning to his arm as he caresses your skin with his fingers - "If you have something in your chest than tell me.."

"No.. it wasn't just a simple nightmare about something fantastic like monsters or anything.. It's.. uh.." you silent for a moment. It was more like your brain, even in sleep, continue to think about your real life problems, not giving you a chance to relax even in sleep from all this stress, and now you feel a urge to talk about this. But it's almost 2 a.m.. - "I will tell you tomorrow, you should relax right now.."

You finally give up, hugging him more tightly as you hide your face in his chest, start telling about all you worries. You start haltingly, a little bit ashamed, but Jakurai was listening carefully, nodding to your words and you become more confident as you open him your soul.

He keep listen to your weak scared voice as he caressing your back with his long slim hands, drawing small circles and shapes with his fingers on your pyjamas. After you tell him everything, you finally felt so much easier as you throw away that terrible nightmare with all your problems. Jakurai notice that you become more relaxed.

"How are you now? Did it make you feel better?" he chuckle when you simply nod, you head still resting on his chest as you curled up into a ball like a small kitten "Then you should fall asleep now. Tomorrow we will talk about this a little bit more, as I willing to help you with that things. But now, just close your eyes, just like that..." his soothing voice become more quite as he start lull you back to sleep "Just remember that I'm always here, with you, and I will not let this problems ruin your life and your future.. I will protect you, my darling sunshine"

You close your eyes, sighing to his chest as you try to relax, this time it was more easy, as you already start to feel more sleepy. And when he cradle you a little, humming something nice and calm you finally start to dozing off, mumbling really quite.

"Thank you.. Jakurai"

He stop for a moment when he hears you soft whisper but then smile and continue to sing quietly, as his heart skip a beat. You just so adorable, this simple little words makes him feel so special as he close his eyes too, thinking about how much he values you in his life. He can't stop thinking about how precious and innocent you are, and how much he wants you to comfort you, both in day and night, in real life and in sleep..

So he hug you tightly, feeling as his eyes becomes more heavier and he slowly fall asleep, his arms still around you as he keep you closer to himself, protecting.

"Love you, my little darling♡"