#or if roses are used it feels like a call back

[themareverine]

A KING & HIS CASTLE ▹ IN YOU, MY FORTRESS

— oldman!Logan x fem!OC drabble

SERIES SUMMARY: Breadwinner. Bring-Home-the-Bacon. King of the Castle. He's heard it all before, but it's never been true of the Wolverine. Until her. Coming home to her is the only thing to live for, the only thing keeping the heart behind his ribs spinning.

SYNOPSIS: Insane, sick. Straight to hell if that’s the case—he couldn’t think of worse torture, and he’d outlived excrutiating. He knows it more intimately than he should, living it every day. Leaving his small Eden behind, in the biting Mexican dust that wilds it away in the glass of his rearview, it’s hell beyond the little limits of everything he, now, holds close.

warnings: drabble series, day-in-the-life, dad!Logan, age gap, angst, domesticity, pregnancy, babies, children, Logan is a boy dad because I said so.

a/n: based on this. and I have to dedicate this to @1800-fight-me for that post, which changed my brain chemistry and prompted my first oldman!Logan.

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

On days like this, Logan could kill. 

Redlight. Redlight. Red, again. Red fuckin’ light. 

He could see them in his fuckin’ sleep. At a little after four, a text from a bunch of digits suggests a phone number—Chicago, if his guess was right. You booking rides? like it’s normal business hours instead of ass o’clock in the morning, like he hasn’t just passed out in bed after getting home and standing beneath a lava-hot shower for all of a handful of minutes—managed three and a half hours of fucking, much-needed racktime. 

Need a limo for five, 7:15. $1k green. 

Squinting into the screen without readers had been like staring into the sun, but Logan had managed. Dimness dropped to low as hell—fine, i'll be there with slow thumbs that burned, felt as if the weight of US-57 had been chained to every fiber of his skin structure. He’d managed to arrange a call time without so much as hammering his phone through the floor, a small mercy—place was barely standing as-is. Hauling old bones from bed was just short of crawling from hell, the warmth of under-covers and threadbare sheets more alluring than Egyptian gods. 

Hair not dry from his first shower, smothered against a thick, hard pillow for the three hours of sleep he’d managed, he stalked his ass back into the shower. Tried to work the cold irritation at humanity swimming in his veins beneath more hot water, failed—wrangled into only-slightly wrinkled slacks and jacket, may as well have been like roping steers. Skipped shaving, fuck that, started the hunt for another of his damn socks. Fumbling about the room like a green linebacker, he didn’t even feel the bed stir. Tangle of sheets around feet, the low moan of a curious, half-asleep lover. 

“Logan?” Drowsy, she props her pretty self up on an elbow. He can see her squinting into the lowlight of the room, thick streams of light from the moon creep over the bed in an otherworldly, nightingale kind of way—half bathed in lunar milk, he couldn’t miss the slight pull of her satin nightdress for anything as she sits up, scrubbing a hand down her face. She asks him what’s up, “Haven’t decided to finally leave me, have you?” 

Insane, sick. Straight to hell if that’s the case—he couldn’t think of worse torture, and he’d outlived excrutiating. He knows it more intimately than he should, living it every day. Leaving his small Eden behind, in the biting Mexican dust that wilds it away in the glass of his rearview, it’s hell beyond the little limits of everything he, now, holds close. Never in a thousand lifetimes would Logan ever imagine being that guy—the guy who fortresses a home. The man who makes vows. Oaths before heaven, whispers sweet nothings and pretty everythings to a heart that beats like his. Never was one for wishing on stars or counting them, slow in a different kind of way—slow in sense of the half-dead, way that smells roses hardly fathomable. If anyone would’ve told him his heart would beat for someone else, for living—-in this shell of a body, this phantom of a man, he’d have laughed. Never believed, no sir. Not him, not the Wolverine. 

Her slow, half-drunk chuckle off the statement claws at his aching ribcage. Fingers brushing what feel like a wad of socks, Logan moves to stuff them into his pocket. Swipes shoes from where he’d dropped them not long ago, slips through the darkness carefully. Where she’s risen from bed comes up quickly, and he blocks the milk of light swathing over their bed from view—fingers her hair away from her face, wild from where it’s fallen from her usual satin cap. 

“You’re dreamin’,” he hums, can’t deny the hint of a mile as she manages a rough, morning-dry chuckle. It sits low. Rattles around the adamantium in his chest. “G’back to sleep, baby—it’s early.” And if that isn’t the God-awful truth, he isn’t sure what is. 5:34 glares back at him when he checks the screen of his phone, not missing the pretty smile laughing back at him from the lockscreen. His lips brush her forehead lightly, hand firm at the back of her neck as his thumb skips over the steady thrum of her pulse. 

Lithe, curious fingers reach for him in the night. As always, they find him—her nails scratch lightly through his unshaven face, skin that’s dewy. An idea of Irish Spring still floats in the air around his nose, but it’s overpowered by the scent of her—the flow of her blood, the oil of her skin. Frankincense she uses in her hair before bed claws at his chest, unmistakable hints of petroleum jelly on the plush of her lips lights cravings in the back of his throat. Even today, after years, her touch still trailblazes through him like wildfire—cuts trails through the jungle of his unknowns, his hesitations. Three days away had felt like fallout, she’d been asleep like any sane person at 3 in the witching hour when he’d dropped into bed.

Blood pistoning to his cock reminds him how long. He’s been a starving man, deprived of her honey—her fruits. 

“You’ll be back?” Her palm against his cheek is God’s gift to humanity, may as well have carved the peak of mountains. “You just got in, Lo,” even in the light of stars he can see the worry mottle pretty features, the depth of her eyes couldn’t be masked by any amount of midnight the universe knew. “You sure you’re okay to drive?” I can drive, if you need me to. She hadn’t driven in years, not since—

“M’fine,” he nods, “don’t you worry ‘bout nothin’ honey.” Slipping her hand into his, he lifts it to press an airy kiss the heel of her hand. It’s soft, for the most part—only partly chapped, mostly from the dry. Dry, and the in-and-out of the desert sun. Keen senses can still taste the brush of earth on her skin, dirt from good hours spent outside. Laughing, running. Playing pretend, exploring the mesa. Like a child, like innocence. 

“Be back tonight,” it comes off a thick cough, “don’t have to wait up.” 

Her snort is sharp. “ I’ll wait. Hate this BS,” the nod is resigned though, knowing. A deep sigh puffs out her cheeks, blows hot against his lips as she looks up at him. “Need you here, Logan,” I know, don’t I know—guiding her arms around his middle, her cheek falls against his chest. Her weight against him reminds him he’s alive, still breathing—reminds him that this, right here, is his. He can feel her hum low at the bottom of her ribs, and rests his chin in her hair, rocking her back and forth lightly. Relishing her heat, the slip of satin. The spring of curl cream in her hair, the zip of adrenaline and sex in his blood. “Want you here.” 

As 5,000 volts as the day he met her, all those years ago. Logan can still taste the rain in the air, the sting of sour sweat and testosterone in the bar. The bite of the steel cage. It’s still clear in the back of his head, glancing at her on a barstool in the corner—more of a drowned lizard than a girl, as the bartender had so aptly noticed. Tired, pretty in the eyes. Broke as hell and as lost as they came—he’d never forget the smile she gave him as he’d tucked her back into that ancient Jeep as long as he lived. 

And she’s still pretty in the eyes, even if they are a little deeper. Haven’t aged a day in all the years she’s been chasing shadows, stalking the sun by his side—racing to die, chancing to live. As Wolverine as they came, in a different kind of way. Unkillable, like him. God’s gift to him, certainly—an Eve for his unkillable Adam, to taste the sun. Lifetimes and mementos of the forgotten behind them, this is his castle. His home— life that, had finally, birthed. 

Wrapped up in pretty satin and swaddling clothes. “I should check on little man,” and there it is. The nail in his coffin. Mention of their son—his son, it’s like a slow poison. Logan never, in any of his days, would imagine that the idea of a child, his offspring would do such devastatingly good things to him—he can’t remember when it changed, how it happened. But it stabs at the mesh of his ribs unlike anything he’s ever felt all the same, toys with his pleasures like a cat with a mouse. Her head tipping back greenlights the pad of his thumb gently pulling at the plush of her bottom lip. Looking up at him with a teasing smile, through low lashes undoes him in a way that should be sin. 

And he kisses her the way she likes, slow. Hard. When her arms snake around his neck, pulling him close, he loses his composure. Deepens the kiss, moans against the heat of her tongue playing with his. “Careful,” he smiles through every languid stroke of her tongue, every little breathless gasp, “don’t start somethin’ we can’t finish, pretty.” 

“Who says we can’t?” 

“When I get back, baby.”

Her pleasured hmmm, heady whispers in dark shadows light him up like a firecracker, but he can’t. Can’t stay, can’t go—trapped in situation’s limbo. Hell of a thing, really. His finger traces the curve of her hip, up—falls in line against her bottom rib, tugging at the skin beneath satin. Erupting in a fit of ticklish giggles, her fingers tug at his hair, play with damp at the nape of his neck. “Logan—not fair!” her breathlessly sharp whine—it fucks his brains. 

“Plen’y fair,” another kiss, one more taste of her, and he steps back. Creates a chasm and his pulse jumps, almost flatlines. Fingertips linger against his as he moves for the door—her tongue chases over kiss-fat lips, and Logan swears to God he can see the fire dancing in the cradle of her womb as she follows after him. Once they hit the door, he kisses her again—it’s the only thing that will keep him alive. 

“I love you, kid,” kid. Hasn’t called her that in awhile. She still smiles at the name, like she always has. It’s true but isn’t—he’s 200 years older than her, another sin on his growing list of indiscretions with God. But she’s lived enough life at his side for it to count, seen enough blood. Heart racing behind his ribs, waiting—breathlessly. All too damn breathlessly for a man who couldn’t give up his breath if God asked. 

“Love you more,” a Betty Crocker kiss to his cheek and she slips away, into the darkness, opposite direction. Nursery, the quiet pull of the innocent. His feet point to the kitchen, to the reckless hour of the world’s morning. 

Twenty-seven steps. Out the door, sink into the limo. A text lights up the phone he’s tossed to the passenger seat as headlights cast lowbeams into witchy darkness. Foot on the brake, he fumbles the breastpocket for hardly-new readers, ignoring the tag still hanging out on the templepiece. Grabbing it, opens the photo attachment. Her, and his child—his son, his side of the bed. His never-in-a-million-years, impossible-to-the-stars family—

— his fortress, the castle to which he returns. Lucky son of a bitch. 

tags: @fandomxo00 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

[ericshoney]

Fake Friends ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You've been refusing to go to school since you and your best friend fell out. You hadn't told your parents what the reason was, so they call in back up. Nick, Matt and Chris.

Warnings: Possible swearing, nicknames, crying, random names for friends, slight angst, fluff.

Reader's age: 16

You hadn't gone to school in a week. Every time your parents came to see if you were ready, you were laid in bed still in your pjs, refusing to go.

You hadn't told your parents why you didn't want to go to school. Just that you didn't want too. The reason.

You and your best friend Rachel had fallen out.

You also noticed that after you and Rachel fell out, all your other friends turned their back on you. Admitting they were only friends with you due to your brothers careers.

So here you were, laid in your bed. MaryLou had tried to get you to go to school but you flat out refused. Your mother had called in back up though.

Nick, Matt and Chris had just landed back in Boston, your dad had gone to collect them, filling the trio in the car with what was going on.

"So, you've got no idea what happened? She's just refusing?" Nick asked.

"Yeah. We tried to ask her what was wrong, but she just said she didn't want to." Your dad replied.

"We'll see what we can do." Matt said.

Once they arrived home, Nick, Matt and Chris greeted your mum before coming to your room.

"Hey kid, can we come in?" Matt asked, as he knocked on your door.

"Sure." You mumbled.

The trio walked into your room and saw you sat up on your bed, your phone laid on your lap. The three smiled as they came and sat on your bed too.

"Hey, what's going on?" Nick asked,

"I just don't want to go to school anymore." You answered.

"We understand that, kid, but why?" Chris asked, emphasising the word.

"You can tell us, sweetheart." Nick mentioned, noticing your hesitation.

"Me and Rachel fell out. All my other friends then admitted they were using me to get to you guys." You confessed.

"I...I just don't get it, like, what have I done to them! They all turned their backs on me! All cause you guys do YouTube, but they lied! They told me they were friends with me because they wanted too, but they all just lied." You continued, feeling the tears fall down your face.

Matt pulled you into a hug as you cried in his arms. He shared a look with Chris and Nick, who both frowned.

"Hey, so listen. We understand how hard it is to lose friends. Especially a close one, so we fully know what you're feeling. But do you think you could try something for us?" Matt suggested.

"What is it?" You asked.

"So we're home for a few weeks, okay. Do you think you could try and go to school tomorrow for us. If things aren't good then we'll work something out, okay petal?" Matt offered.

"Okay." You agreed.

"Just remember, kid, you're better than those people. You weren't being fake, they were." Nick said.

"The right friends will make their way to you one day. Believe us, school isn't the only time to make friends. And you've always got us, Justin and Nate." Chris said, making you laugh lightly.

"Thanks guys." You said, feeling better about the situation.

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann @mrvlxgrl @lottieluhvs @cl1tlover3000 @melaniesturniolo @lovesturni0l0s @blahbel668  @emely9274 @nicksloverrr @pancjfrjb @luvr4miya @artloo123 @n0aa @sturn-rose @ivysturnss @thetriplets3 @starfuckoff @itsjulzandmydiamonds

Dividers by @issysh3ll

[regressionschool]

The corporate boardroom was all polished chrome, sleek wood, and well-dressed professionals sitting attentively as Maya stood before them, flipping through slides on the screen behind her. Her voice was steady, clear, and authoritative, drawing nods and murmurs of approval from several of the senior board members.

“Now, if you look at the Q3 projections,” Maya continued, gesturing to the chart with a steady hand, “you’ll see our growth potential really peaks in the holiday quarter. I’ve adjusted the strategy to—”

She paused, mid-sentence, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. The smallest trickle had just started to soak into the soft fabric of her pull-up, an increasingly familiar feeling. She’d grown used to it during her busy workdays, where stepping out for a break was often the last thing on her mind. And right now, with all eyes on her, the tiny trickle became a small stream, her pull-up warming, swelling subtly, hidden but noticeable to her. Maya took a controlled breath, keeping her composure as her pull-up grew wet.

“The strategy should help us capitalize on current market trends…” She forced herself to keep going, gesturing to the data behind her, even as she felt the soft garment expand against her. Maya kept her voice steady and didn’t skip a beat, but as she scanned the room, she couldn’t help noticing the slight shifting of a few of her colleagues in their seats. Had she caught the faintest whiff of something…? Her confidence rose, just a bit, as she realized she wasn’t the only one there with a little secret.

As Maya continued her presentation, her mind briefly wandered to the board members sitting around the table, each wearing an expression of focused interest, all eyes on her. But one or two of them, the ones in their seats just behind her, seemed slightly uncomfortable. She thought she saw a little wiggle here and there, like they were maybe trying to hide something… and that faint scent in the air made her wonder. She bit her lip, refocusing on her own slide and pushing away any thought of how wet she was becoming. It was, after all, her job to finish the presentation first.

After another fifteen minutes of speaking, Maya wrapped up her final point, ending her presentation with a confident nod. The board members clapped politely, a few exchanging pleased glances with her, clearly impressed.

“Excellent work, Maya,” Mr. Thompson, the CEO, nodded approvingly. “Really stellar. I think you’ve positioned us perfectly for Q4. Let’s talk further about these adjustments next week.”

Maya gave a polite nod, resisting the urge to shift in place as her wet pull-up felt heavy and slightly squishy. “Thank you, Mr. Thompson,” she said, clasping her hands professionally in front of her. “I look forward to it.”

The meeting adjourned, and Maya made her way back to her office to collect her things. By now, her pull-up had cooled against her, and she felt it sag just a bit as she walked. She gave herself a small, confident smile as she slipped into her coat and gathered her laptop, ready to head home to her husband, Evan.

Later that evening, Maya finally relaxed as she closed the front door behind her. She set her things down and called out, “Evan, I’m home!”

Evan appeared around the corner, smiling warmly. “Hey, love. How was the presentation?”

Maya smiled back, letting out a little sigh. “It went well. The board seemed pleased.”

“Of course they were,” he said, giving her a hug and a gentle squeeze. “They’re lucky to have you.”

As they embraced, Evan’s hand slid down her back, landing softly on her waist. He paused, his hand lingering, then gave her a light pat just below the small of her back. His expression shifted into one of quiet curiosity. “Maya… are you wearing…?”

Maya blushed, her eyes meeting his with a knowing sparkle. “Mmhmm,” she said softly, biting her lip playfully. She took a small step back, unbuttoning her coat and letting it fall to the side. As she shimmied out of her skirt, the unmistakable bulge of her soggy pull-up peeked out.

Evan’s eyes lit up with pride and warmth as he took in the sight. “Look at you,” he murmured, reaching out to gently trace the outline of her swollen pull-up. “You were so focused on work that you didn’t even take a break?”

Maya shrugged, chuckling softly. “I didn’t want to miss my flow, and well… I guess it just… happened.” She looked down at herself, then met his gaze with a twinkle in her eye. “Not that it’s anything I haven’t done before.”

He chuckled, clearly pleased with her dedication. “You’re incredible, you know that? All this hard work, not even thinking about a break. No wonder you’re so successful.”

“I wasn’t the only one. You wouldn’t believe how much half the boardroom smelled like… well, like messy diapers by the end of it.” She laughed, giving him a mischievous smile. “I think a few of them weren’t even in pull-ups like I was. Some of them were probably in full-on diapers, and not very fresh ones.”

Evan’s eyes widened with a chuckle. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely,” she replied with a smile.

He grinned, nodding slowly. “Well, with all that in mind, maybe it’s time you upgrade too?” He leaned forward, his voice low and encouraging. “I mean, if you’re going to keep up with the big dogs, maybe you should be a little more prepared yourself.”

Maya’s blush deepened, but her eyes sparkled with interest. She’d been pushing herself so hard at work, and it was almost freeing, realizing she didn’t have to worry about interruptions just to find the restroom.

“You think I should switch to diapers?” she asked, teasing but clearly interested.

He nodded, his hand sliding to her hip. “Think about it. If you’re wearing a full diaper, you don’t have to think about breaks at all. You could handle the longest meetings without worrying, even if you’re… more than a little wet.” He gave her a gentle, playful pat on her soggy pull-up. “And you’d be a lot more comfortable.

Maya grinned, looking down thoughtfully. “I mean… you’re not wrong,” she said, nodding slowly. “Maybe I should just go for it. If half the boardroom can do it, why shouldn’t I?”

“Exactly,” he said, smiling as he reached out to hold her hand. “If anyone’s earned the convenience, it’s you. “

She chuckled, glancing at him with a sly smile. “And you wouldn’t mind helping me get some? You’d be okay with that?”

Evan’s face lit up, nodding eagerly. “Of course I would. I’d love to see you fully relax like that. You’re already amazing at your job—now you’d have all the freedom you need, no matter how long those days get.”

Maya’s smile softened, and she gave his hand a squeeze, feeling a deep sense of comfort at the idea. “Then… let’s do it. Let’s get me some diapers.”

The decision felt surprisingly easy.

Soggy and not sorry about it

[d0llcuries]

ICE-CREAM FOR TWO

pairing(s): reiner braun x fem! reader

summary: you hated him for dragging you to marley, for every stolen chance at freedom. you expected the feeling to be mutual as you rented him for four long years but it wasn't. what better way to address this than ice-cream!

author's note: uh, i guess i write for aot now. blame my cousin and her insistence on getting me addicted to this stupid show for the possibility of inaccurate writing. i love reiner pls send requests for aot 🤲🏽

the market cradled you today in a way almost cruel, with its heat and grit pressing close, air thick with burnt coffee, iron on the breeze, syrupy traces of cotton candy and caramel inviting you into the hic et nunc, although you didn’t want to be. you hated this noise, this heat, the whole crowded mess of voices folding together like waves. you hated how it almost felt like home. you hated how you could almost trick yourself into calling it that if you tried hard enough. a mirror showing something soft, distant, something that could’ve been yours in some other life. no matter how warm the market held you, the truth settled somewhere beneath it all. this land is borrowed, marley is not home, and no amount of rose-tinted glass could change that.

under a washed-out sky, baskets burst with flowers like muted fireworks, children racing in loops, dogs tangled and nipping at their heels. you thought about reiner before you saw him. he was sitting across the square, shoulders hunched as if he were carrying every brick and stone of marley on his back, the same as he’d carried those in paradis. he looked like he was far away, somewhere only he knew how to reach. you still saw that ghost of the soldier you thought he was back then, before everything came apart.

you’d told yourself you wouldn’t go near him, wouldn’t let him know that, after all this time, you’d never quite stopped noticing him. you wonder why you think of him so much, why he takes up all this space in your mind even when he's not near. it was strange how close you were and weren’t, your lives spooled together and then split, moth-eaten like old twine.

but then gabi’s voice broke into your thoughts.

“hey, yn! can you buy us ice cream, please? come on, it’s not far! the ice-cream stand's like.. right around the corner, and i haven’t had any in soooooo long!” gabi stretched out the ‘so long’ ensuring that you felt every inch of the ache that came from a whole season without the taste of frozen sugar. she practically sang, her sticky hand finding yours and pulling before you’d had a chance to respond.

before you knew it, you were standing at the old ice-cream stand, faded to a dull blue, the wood bleached and splintering under too many hot days. the vendor, an older man with sunburned skin and tired eyes, barely lifted his gaze as he rattled off the list of flavors available.

while you hadn’t chosen this home, you chose these people, or maybe they chose you in some inexplciable way. the days of resentment, the times you’d longed to be anywhere but marley, softened over time. gabi, falco, and udo, each of them with their bright, trusting faces had managed to bring out a warmth in you that you’d forgotten was there. you hadn’t planned to love them, but they’d worked their way into the little cracks between loneliness and anger, without effort or warning. it felt like love. you loved them.

“please, please, please?” gabi’s voice tumbled out, each please more insistent than the last. you pressed your lips together, trying to chase away the smile that wanted to break free, but there was no stopping it. the vendor cleared his throat, glancing at the line of customers that was growing behind you, and that pressure paired with gabiʼs nagging commenced the immediate collapse of any resolve you’d held and any remaining choice you had.

“alright, alright,” you murmured. “three, please,” you said, “two caramel swirls… and a chocolate.”

you pull the coins from your purse, and slide them across the vendor’s counter, a quick glance past the crowd where you know reiner’s somewhere out there, not close but close enough. you dig back into your purse, pull out enough for an extra ice cream, and place it on the wood. “and one more, vanilla.”

the vendor didn't blink. he handed you the cones with a practiced indifference, the soft edges already drooping in the heat, melting faster than they should. gabi snatched hers right away, giving a quick “thanks!” but not really looking at you. she didn’t need to, her appreciation was in her wide-eyed grin and the way she immediately started devouring the cone as if she’d waited years for it. udo took his with a quiet “thank you,” glancing at the cone like it was the first good thing he’d seen all day. falco gave a small nod, not meeting your eyes, as if the simple gesture was too much kindness to take all at once.

you glance at the extra cone in your hand, and you think about the boy—no, man—you had brought it for.

your gaze flickered to the square, and there he was, his silhouette made of pale, ghostly gold and all the fragments that cling to it. the blond of his hair catches and curls like a match struck in silence as he rests on the bench with moss staining its feet in a green kiss. “stay close. don't wander off,” you murmur to gabi and the boys, a mother’s instinct in a stranger’s affection. the market seems to swell as faces blur into patches of color and shadow.

usually heʼd be the one buying them the sweets, trailing behind like he belonged to the children, not the other way around. he’d slip coins to the vendor, barely seen, to make sure the kids stayed kids, get them something sweet to carry home sticky on their fingers. his presence made the kids feel safe. that was his gift to them.

he didn’t see you, not at first, lost in whatever he’d wrapped around himself, his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes focused on something far off, his expression pulled into that mask of solemnity that’s so familiar it hurts. there’s a ghost of a frown in his brow from spending too much time thinking about things he didn’t want to think about. it was only when you were close enough that he looked up, startled, it was clear he wasn't expecting to see you. there was a tension in him, he sort of resembled an animal caught between choices, wanting to flee but rooted to the spot.

“i thought you’d want one,” you said, holding the cone out. it wasn’t often that you spoke to him this way, or at all. not about something as simple as ice-cream.

he stared at it first, then up at you. for a heartbeat you thought he might actually refuse it, let the ice-cream coat your hand with melted stickiness just to spite you for they way you resented him for the past four years.

“they give that to you for free?” he said, his eyes drifted somewhere just beyond the market stalls, like he was only half-invested in the jab.

something in his tone snagged, left a thin, invisible cut. he had every reason to say it, you supposed, but it still bruised in a way it shouldn’t. “no,” you shot back, trying not to let his offhand remark knock too hard against the satisfaction you’d felt just moments ago. “i bought it for you.”

with a breath soft as surrender, he looked up at you, and you could feel it, the way he saw you, had always seen you, from the days you were both cadets stumbling through ranks and routines. he’d always thought you were pretty, even when thought you didn't interact often.

the word devil was supposed to define you. reiner was trained to see you that way, to let a thick wall of prejudice stand between you both, forged over years of lessons and oaths. in marley, they pressed that word into people like you, used it to shape you into something repulsive. it was easy to believe it as a child, to see you through the war-stained images they painted, to think of you as something marley’s soldiers had been trained to conquer and devastate. but somehow, that wall never felt as solid with you. he tried to keep it up, you could tell from the way his gaze would shift from warm to cold so quickly, his jaw setting hard as if he was gripping some old lesson, forcing himself to remember why he wasn’t supposed to care. and you hated him for it as much as you didn’t. it was like he had stolen every sense of belonging from you, yet kept a fragile piece of it alive in himself, offering it back in little moments you refused to trust.

he’d always figured he’d have to wait, maybe forever for that forgiveness, if it came at all. for four years, he’d held onto the hope that one day you might look at him without that burning hatred in your eyes. over time, he’d let that hope slip through his fingers, learning to live in the shadow of what he thought he’d ruined.

but now, standing here, he felt something he hadn’t dared to let himself feel in a long time. the way you looked at him was different—not hardened or distant, but softened, like there was warmth in you meant just for him. it was subtle, but it caught him completely off guard, a look that lingered a little too long, the edges softening just enough for him to see something he’d once believed was lost.

he wanted to say something, anything, to reach out, but he found himself rooted, afraid to break whatever delicate understanding hung between you. he’s always been so careful with you, so mindful of your boundaries. your gaze didn’t waver, and he felt it like a quiet ache, as if, finally, there was a chance your view of him had changed.

he took the cone with hands that were larger than you remembered, rough and scarred and cracked in places. in his grasp, the small offering looked absurdly delicate.

“thanks.”

you settle on the edge of the bench beside him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin, but not quite touching.

“you didn’t have to do this,” he said, his voice subdued, as if he was suppressing emotions that he couldn’t articulate.

“i wanted to,” you reply simply, the words soft but steady, a quiet confession hidden in plain sight. it’s not much, just a simple act of kindness, but it feels like more than that, like a tentative step toward something new, something neither of you quite knows how to name.

“i’m not good at this,” he admits after a long pause, the unexpected confession falling between you. he doesn’t look at you, eyes locked on the melting drip tracing a path down his knuckle.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “good at what?”

he’s quiet for a moment, so quiet that the hum of the market seems louder, pressing in from all sides. when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost hesitant. “being close. to anyone.”

you shift slightly, your knee brushing against his leg. it’s so slight it could be an accident, but it’s not. “well, you’re here now.”

he looks up at you then with an unconcealed reverence that makes your heart lurch in your chest, eyes softening around the edges, holding that mix of confusion and hope that makes him look almost boyish. “yeah, i am.”

the silence stretches, but this time it’s warm, inviting. you can see him wrestling with something, the way his jaw tightens, loosens, the way his thumb traces a line across the wood of the bench as if trying to ground himself.

“it’s strange,” he starts, eyes flickering to yours before darting away again, “this..” he nods to the space inbetween you, “feels like more than i deserve.”

your gaze lingers on him, and you swallow back the pool of savila resting on your tongue. “maybe we’re both not good at this,” you whisper, a shy honesty threading through your voice. “but i think we could be.”

he blinks. “you think so?”

“yeah,” you say, the word barely more than a breath but heavy with everything you mean. “i do.”

and for the first time in years, he lets himself believe it.

[unholywriters]

Demon's Desire - Greedy Watcher

Summary: Waking up isn't always the fun part, there is nothing more then just wanting to stay in bed and hoping everything bad that just happened is a lie and everything will somewhat go back to normal. But what if it wasn't?

Parts: teaser 01

Word Count: 4.7k

Tags: Demon au, Demon stray kids, Demon Chan, Demon Felix, Demon Changbin, Demon Jeongin, Demon Hyunjin, Demon Han, Demon Lee Know, demon Seugnmin, Unprotected sex, possession, Obsession, watching, MDNI, talks of hell

Taglist: @felixneverbadd @gnusihcom @a-short-ass-disappointment

PS: feel free to ask to be added to the tag list or any other series or one-shot I'll be writing in the feature!, Also thank you from the support from here and for those watching the election with us, know your thoughts and prayers were with us and someway, somehow, we are going to get out of his grip and keep going and standing strong for us. A lot of things were rigged during this and hopefully there will be action taken against this and if not, just know I will find a way to survie and come back ready to tell stories and still write on her, my soruce of comfort

“It’s a miracle you survied those wounds from that crash. Most of them were so sever you should’ve died when you entered the hospital.” The doctor told me, looking over my chartd while I just sat there on a hospital bed trying so hard to listen and retian all of his words he was trying to tell me but it was hard to. Everything that happened before I woke is still playing in my mind like a broken recrod player and there was honestly nothing I could about it other then just sit here trying to put the pieces together. My throat and chest still burned even after I took that drink, it had to be blood because I was still tasting iron like I sucked on a cut in hopes it would stop bleeding. But there was nothing else I could do, there was nothing more I was even thinking of doing. I just knew I needed to focus. “Is there anyone you would like us to call to take you home? Any family members or anything in that nature?” I looked over to the doctor to only shake ym head. For all I knew my family was dead to me, living however they wanted and I wanted to keep them as far away as possible and there was nothing more that I wanted to do with them.

“We will keep you here for the night and discharge you in the daytime just to give yourself more rest and monitor just incase of anything happening. Please press the help button if you need anything. You’re nurse will be Hy-in, she’s very alert.” I gave him another piloet nod as he left the room, closing the door behind him while I looked at the monitor, everything was steady and slow. Despite the burning I was feeling. All I could do was let out a sigh while leaning back in the bed, closing my eyes and replaying his last words in my head. I’m immortal now, but I can still feel pain despite it all. How am I supposed to know who those men were? They know who I am yet I won’t know who they are until I find those rose tattoos. Those darn things culd be anywhere but I guess that’s the fun part. But seeing them in my dreams? What could happen in there? I’m guessing I wouldn’t be able to wake up until they wanted me to or were just done with me till then and there was nothing I could about it. Which was weird to me.

Who were those men just sitting there, clearly they weren’t human, no human has te ability to trap you in a dream and sit in a place so hot, it felt like hell. Was my entire body and soul sold to 8 of them with a wine glass? I shook my head and tried not to think about it, I had a lot of things to handle in the morning and I hated that thought. I started to feel my pocket and hope my phone wasn’t as damaged and to my shock it was in perfect shape still, even opening it up nothing was taken or changed. I went to open my bank, being angry that all the money I had was most likely gone but it wasn’t. My bank balace when I last checked was around almost 3,000 won, I had almost 7,000 won from my show and ut was still added to my account still. Which was impossible given the fact that the money was flying around and burning even from the crash, in total I had about 10k won in total. It was confusing to me even, but I didn’t want to question it much more. I wanted to rest, I wanted t wake up and prepare myself for a stressful day and since it was my day off, it made it slightly better. But there was nothing else I wanted to think about.

I tried my best to be comfortable given my outfit, holding the pillow and closing my eyes just hoping for the best and not expect anything more after this. I stayed and kept tossing and turning before opening my eyes. I thought I just needed to go to the bathroom as I stood up and turned around, but I was more in shock then anything. There was my body, sleeping peacefully and comfortably like I was at home just getting comfortable and there was nothing else I could do. I looked around in a panic before seeing lights flash from under the door. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to leave the room but I decided to because what else did I have to lose? Walking to the door was hard, slowly making my way over like I could glide my way over before slowly holding the cold doorknob. I could only look down at the glowing light from under the door before slowly taking one deep breathe before slowly opening the door with my eyes closed, hoping to see something worse then what I was expecting from everything else that was happening but I felt nothing but a soft breeze from the left of me. Slowly opening my eyes and being surprised at what I saw.

The room I was in had a view of everything, I could see the skylines with the stars shinning brightly, walking to the large wall of windows I was looking down atthe city of Seoul, it was surprising to me, because I quickly turned around and saw my body still asleep on the bed of a cold hospital room. But the door was slowly closing and I was left alone in this large room, where things were still slowly coming into view. On the left was a large black couch with comofrtable pillows that seemed to have fancy designs and some strings around them. On the edge of the couch was a small black table with a single wine glass that was filled halfway but it looked like it was being drank out of. The floor was a large white carpet, everything on this side looked lurxury, to the side it had hte same feeling but there was a bed. It was a large cirlce bed with a canopy circing around it, the black curitans with gold flowers circling around it, almost like waking up as a prince everyday and going to bed like one.

“And Hello to you to, Diamond.” I wanted to scream at the deep voice, but all that came out was a surprised yell and me quickly turning around to see the person. But I still couldn’t see his actual face. But I could see everything else, his blonde combed back hair with something covered his face, it didn’t look like a mask but I couldn’t see anything other then his lips and nose, his eyes were hidden from me. There was nothing I could do other then take in how he looked, honey tanned even which is something thay often gets washed in a blinding white to give off something different when certrain places take the pictures, it’s stupid to me because the tone is overall delciious to look at. What he was screaming was something you’d see a prince would wear. A buttoned up white shirt with ruffles on the sleeves and on the chest with tight black pants. Wearing black heels even which wasn’t something I was used to seeing outside of the nightclub. And on top of that he had white gloves with black ruffles on the end.

He was almost the same ehight as me, but taller. He stoof tall with his hands behind his back while I could still feel the eyes on me. He seemed to be enjoying my reaction while wlaking around me before walking to get his wine glass, slightly swirling it around while sitting on the couch. “Who…The fuck- how am I here.” I tried to demand, watching him do all of this while trying to keep my hands close to me while I could hear his chuckle. It was rich and deep, something that could make your knees shiver and you want to hear him talk just for the fun of it. Trying to stand my ground while just watching him. “You made a deal when you drank that special wine for you, you’re in my house. You’re talking to someone wo truly enjoys…greed.” I could only tilt my head and just watch him. My soul is now gone from me and there is this person right in front of me knowing so much more about this, yet enjoying my confusion and making sure to enjoy it as much as he could while I watch.

“Luxury, things I deseve afterall. Soon you might get to enjoy it, if you can figure it out.” All i could really do was jsut waatch him. I didn't know what to say, what could I even say to him? It’s clear that whatever I got myself into was something there was no backing out of. Go on, come over. What all I could even to do you? Bite already? That would be moving too fast. Besides you have a little while longer before you wake up.” “The crash…I know I saw hyunjin, what did he do afterwards. You must know him given all of this" It all just came out, but it seemed to make him stop drinking his wine and I could feel the slightly shocked look on his face as he looked at me. Almost like I wasn't supposed to have saw hyunjin there or figure it out this so soon. But I grew up putting things together in a fast length without needing to say it out loud, and it was clear that I was right about this and there was nothing he could even say to me to distract me.

“Sharp like a diamond, he'd be flatter if you figureed out his that fast but I'll let him figure it out.” I crossed my arms, fixing my stance even though my feet weren't hurting which was weird because they would usally be hurting by now, especially with heels. “But, we are forced to tell you the truth, whether any of us wanted to or not. But, yes he was there, he enjoys sneaking away or chasing someone. Now as for what he did afterwards you were stuck in that set up car is something you will have to ask him about when you see him. Don't expect it to be tommorow, it could be at night when you sleep. Naps in the day don't work either since we need to blend in with mortals at that time and get things done, and keep you on your toes so you remember why you're here and alive in the first place. Trying to do more then your ready for isn't the best way to start things out.” He snapped his fingers and before I could push more, I woke up on the bed. No dramatic gasping for air like I was dying, just a calm slow wake up while I rubbed my eyes and tried to get things right in my head that felt like it was spinning nonstop like I've beenspinning for 30 minutes straight.

But I was told I could leave, and that's all I wanted to do. Looking at the clothes I had to wear since mine were cut open so they could do their best to save me with no time to waist. My Wig as horrible but that glue was holding on, it was just a mess and tangled, this wasn't cheap but I won't be mad at the staff for doing the best that they could for their job. I walked out in sandlas someone gave me with my broken heels in hand outside, holding what little I ahd before I saw Hyunjin again, he was standing far off to the left of the walkway just right outside the main entrnace. I almost wanted to scream when I saw him, but I turned to the right thinking I could outrun him and I saw someone I never wanted to see. It was my sister, she was looking at me and I feel like she could stil tell it was me and I quickly turned and walked straight to hyunjin like I was trying to run but kept my pace from it, speed walking if you will. I could hear her trying to call my real name with her heels clicking behind me, I wanted to walk past hyunjin but he just held his arm around me like he did last night before teh crash and we began to walk away.

I wanted to punch him and just walk home but the fact that he was getting me away from her quicker was helpful. I didn’t want to know why she was at the hospital and I didn’t want to open that door that was locked and chained up for a reason and I thought I made it clear. He kept walking with me till we got to another luxury car. I almost dind't want to go till he leaned in my ear. “If you want to keep her off your tail, stay with me. She's been trying to play a gold digger and stay outside of hospitals like this to see if seh could snatch up someone.” I rolled my eyes as I got in the car and sat on the far side while he got in and sat beside me. Closing the door while flipping his hair back, I just knew I was about to be getting into some drama that might overall..make me happy to see her fail at it. I was curious because there seemed to be someone else in the car. His hair was straight and blone, glowing even which is something I tend to be jealous but I kept it to myself. He was wearing a leather jacket and it was clear that whoever this was, was close with hyunjin.

“She's almost always waiting otuside with you and it's annoying to deal with it everytime, surely you have better things to tell her besides to leave.” The deep voice person said, crossing his legs as the car started, us ignoring the knocking on the window and I was more surprsied to see her just standing there trying to knock and see inside of the car that we got into. It amde me ma to see that even after everything with our family happened she still hasn't changed. But it's not my business and I won't let her make it for me. I crossed my arms and my left leg over my right before turning to hyunjin, wanting answers and there wasn't anyway I was about to leave without getting any of them tonight. “She enjoys causing scenes in public, I'm over it and seeing how diamond-" “y/n.” I corrected him, since diamond was my stage name and I wasn't at work, I didn't want to hear it when I'm not at work or with a client. He smirked before trying to continue his sentence. “Y/n, reacted to her, that scene would've been too much and we need to take them back home. Let them relax for a while.”

I felt myself roll my eyes again at the sound of that last remark. I still have questions but with seeing someone else in the car, I felt like it wasn't right since I didn't know them and I didn't want to sound crazy in front of them. So I just tried to talk about last night, before the crash at least. “Is this one fo the men from the bar last night that sat with you? How did that talk go?” turning to give him my attention, I saw hyunjin had his legs crossed and turrned to me to give over his full attention. “Ah that one, we got a deal to buyout the curruent owner. The Place will be shut for a full renovation while everyone still gets paid, free paid leave. And when it's done you'll have more time to decorate your rooms. It'll be more.. safe for those who want to try but are too scared of people with money.” I rasied a brow as I listned to him give me the reasoning, it wasn't bad, we do get a lot of new people and they often run becauase of how many men stand and sit around on the main floor and get violent when drunk. It's not something we aren't used to, but it's stupid that it gets this far.

“That's not a bad Idea, what about your friend right here? Did he like the club as much as you did you? You seemed to be more intrested in getting the place then anyone else.” He took a while to answer, looking like he was trying to carefully pick his words carefully just to not give out anything I'm not supposed to know about now and he wanted to prolong the Guessing game and there was no cheat corners. “Places like that aren't just a place for men to pay for something. Men who dance and women who dance are trying to get by to live for something and need somewhere to go without the fear of getting too much of taxes removed because too many people want to fill their pockets with something. Or think just because they paid they get a say in everything.” I wanted to say that he was genuine with his response with everything. I wanted to say I was surprised by this since he seemed to enjoy these things. But not because o that but ebcause he was worried for the people who have to work in those shitty confditions and how there was almost nothing more gross then someone crossing someones boundaires for their own personal gain and walk out like nothing bad will happens. Someitmes our boss will get the cops involved, but I feel like she was doingmore dangerous things on the side and would try to get the others to let it slide so she doesn't get caught, and hates the cops coming over.

Don't get me wrong she wasn't a really shitty one, she wanted to get as much money as she could and grow the place, but getting us tied in with dangerous work was beginning to be her downfall to everything and it was slowly coming over to bite her in the ass. I still had questions but it was clear he needed to go somewhere, and that we were at another building that wasn't mine. I looked over to him and watched him tryto fix his hair, his outfit was something most people wouldn't think as professional for something important but given how expensive everything looks, I hightly doubt no one knew who he was when he walked through a building. Fully being able to look at his outfit, the shirt he had was mainly a dark red wioth black spots that reminded me of a leopard. With pants that reminded me of a dusty gray wioth a black and gold belt, a large cilver chain hanging from the left side of the pants that seem to reach his inner thigh. I almost didn't even see he had a black tank top under his main shirt. The outfit with teh black botts on his feet ot matchmade it look amaizng. At least my hope of him knowing how to dress was right because I would've cried if he didn't. “Have fun with my friend up here, I'm certain he'll keep you occupied till you get home and start tp feel better about yourself, that was a very…nasty wreck.”

I looked at him with wide eyes as the car started to drive off and he did a little finger wave. He knew I wanted to ask, he knew I needed answers yet he left just before I could even ask teh question and I wanted to get out of the car and shake him. But the door was locked and so were the windows and all I could do was jsut watch him confidently walk up those stone stairs and have hte door open for him with him bowing in return. I wanted to chase but I would just look crazy. “Don't try top get out, unless you plan on fighting that girl and him just watching. He loves a good show. Now tell the driver where we're going so you can feel fresh, I can imagine all of those knots and tangles must be a pain to remember you have to deal with later.” I looked towards the review mirror and was surprised at the eyes I was seeing, those bright sky eyes were something I always secretly admired from afar but never wante to tell someone taht because most of the time I've told soemone that, they loved the attention and just made it annoying to keep trying at this point with trying to get to know them since they tend to use their eyes as a weapon. Something that also takes time to learn and master after what felt like hours when it's only been minutes of it. I lokoed at the driver and told him the same thing I told the lat one, sitting back in the soft cream leather seats and buckling myself up again out of habit.

“she's alwayts been like that.” “Oh, so you know her?” “Blood related to her, nothing else but that.” I rolled my eyes, surprised she even rememebred my name when seh saw me. I had changed and grew so much but I guess that's what happens when you're the older sibling andhave htat special sibling link I guess. I won't lie when I listen to this man, he knows he would be wanted by people just like everyone else in his group of friends last night. Looking like a walking model with his eyes, lips, and even the freckles. I know that peoeple were falling at his knees just because of those. “Worried she would try something to get you embarrassed as well?” “If her parents were able to rebuild themselves then of coruse she would to try and spin the story against me, which really wouldn't work in her favor since I still keep records of them, and knowing her she thinks I live in a homeless shelter and was struggling.” “People often get lost in their own greed thinking no one else could ever get up that far, I'd enjoy the crushed look on her face if she actaully saw the place you live in. Nothing ever happens here.” I felt ymself smirking while we came to the neighborhood my large aparmtent was.

I felt so relived to see the place adn know I was so close to getting there. I never hd to worry about losing the key because everyday when we leave, we leave the key at the key master's desk and he sets the key either under the number, if you only stay for a while, and if you stay long enough, you get a name plate over your key since everyone pratically knows you by now. Some people just rent out rooms for whatever reason adn tehn just leave a couple of days later which is something I tend to enjoy one way or another. It wasn't fun but it also wasn't annoying either since sometimes you'd be able tp hear them since some of the floors are like clubs and bars. Usally palces would just drop me off, but the driver took me to the garage and went to the dropoff spot and parked the car. I was slightlysurprised to see the man in front stepping out when I opened hte door as well, closing it slightly before turning to look at him. I saw something on his left side, since he was wearing only a blue jean jacket that wasn't buttoned closed and there was nothing else under it. It was him, and I knew it was.

Even with his slightly loose blue jeans, I knew exactly what I was looking at even when we both met eyes again. He seemed to have smiled before motioning we walk to the door since the driver didn't need to hear the conversation, which worried me. But we walked to the door and I watched him press in the right passcode into the door before we walked in and it closed once we walked inside. “You have a-" “Rose? Yes, I do. You really do make this fun with how much you pay attention. It's like a guessing game.” I walked besided him slowly, I still had my things in hand while we got to the desk, I asked for mine and he asked for his. “Felix Lee? Ah so you're who I got the wig from.” Holding my key and turnng back to him, he looked more shocked and widen his eyes as he really got to look at the wig, like he was offended this happened to something he help produce to those who could afford it. They were made of high quality and truly could hang on and look great during anything, given the state mine is in after tumbling in a car about a good five times and sold my soul afterwards just to live.

I started to walk but he was next to me while we walked to the elevator, I take it the things we needed to talk about were something no human ear needed to hear. “No wonder it looked familiar to me, I can give you two for…half off?” I raised a brow as I looked at him, the elevator doors closing while I pressed the very top floor, which was on the 30th floor, and he pressed the one under it. “Greedy much?” I wanted to joke, but he leaned closer and his eyes flashed green for a second, and it felt like last night. Though I coudln't see anything, I could feel that stare no matter how weird it was at the fact that I couldn't see anything for that entire time. I felt my heart sank to the bottom of my foot before going back up to my chest. “Can't give things for free, even if you do have…a rose on your side. You won't feel it till you look in the mirror at yourself. But that's for a later time. Nice to meet you actaully face to face, y/n.” He walekd out of the elevator once the door opened, he was humming something while the doors slowly closed before taking me up to my floot. There wasn't a lot of rooms up here but I wonder why he wasn't in one of the rooms up here with me, I'm guessing so I cantruly relax and not go up a wall?

All I did was shake my head while walking out to my door. Slowly opening it and looking around before closing it. I missed my place, it had everything I liked and was oranged to how I would like it. Something I loved for myself while all I could do was let out a relaxed sigh, knowing I have a lot to do. Detangle my wig, probably still get one if not two from him and figure out what else I need to do. I hate not haivng my list of things to do and now having to worry about missing something and not panic or worry about it. But I will figure all of this out later, I know I can and I know that I will. But before I could fully leave teh door,I heard a quick knock, which surprised me but I opened the door and looked down, it was two new platinum wigs, one was more sparkly then the others with a note on it. “you still owe me half price for these, can't let you fall off the hook just yet when the games just started, don't you agree, little diamond?”

[boom-butterflyeffect]

WARNING/S - smut, mentions of killing/stabbing, knife play, choking, mr.ghostface kink?, mask kink?, <3

you heard a bang as the lodge door slammed shut, instantly getting your attention as you shot up from the bed. you swore youd locked all the doors before getting into bed and the only other person with a key was josh but hed had to stay late at the smaller cabin, Jessica and Mike's "love den", as he called it. "last minute preparations, babe", he said.

slowly creeping around the corner of the bedroom door you peaked out to see.. nobody. the long hallway was completely.. empty. so you went back into the room and grabbed your boyfriends baseball bat, then made your way into the kitchen followed by the living room. once again seeing.. nothing.

hand falling to the side as you sighed to yourself. maybe you were just way too tired and imagining things, the religious watching and study of horror media finally getting to you, you thought, just before you felt two hands reach around you, grabbing your mouth to silence you and your waist to hold you against them.

you tried as hard as you could to fight them off, not even being able to see who it was that had grabbed you until you heard the familiar laugh of your boyfriend as he let go of you.

“its me, kitten!” he lifted the ghostface mask to reveal a very amused grin on his face and you shook your head at him.

“JOSH! you scared me to death!” you yelled at him, looking down at his baseball bat still in your hand.

“if i was a real intruder id definitely have had to kidnap you.” he said, using the knife he was holding to motion to your clothes. or lack of.

as youd been in bed you were literally in just a small thong and a cropped scream t shirt, how ironic. you roll your eyes, moving closer to him as his arms wrap around you and you pull the mask back down over his face.

“you look.. hot.” you told him and heard a laugh from under the mask.

“you want me to fuck you like this?” he jokes but quickly notices as your eyes change at his words. “oh you do.. you want me to put this knife against your throat and make you beg for you life, kitten?”

“josh..” you whisper out, barely being able to find your voice over the shock you were in from your boyfriends words. youd always had a thing for the ghostface character, among others, and hearing your boyfriend speaking this way was doing something to you.

his hand reaches out and grips onto your throat, pinning you against the nearest wall as he presses the knife above his hand. “what kitten?” he asks and you cant even think, never mind speak to reply to him.

“you better start talking or im gonna have to make you, and im sure you dont want that do you kitten?” he asks, moving the knife to trail down your tummy causing a whine to slip from your lips. “oh maybe you do.. hm? you like how my knife feels against your pretty skin?”

“josh please..” you whine and he laughs, shaking his head at your reaction.

“youre such a little whore. i bet you loved how you felt when you thought i was someone else hm? did it make your little pussy wet to think about me forcing this knife into your skin.. making you beg for your life?”

your breath fell from your lips in a scattered fashion as your chest rose and fell quickly. you couldnt even imagine, he couldnt even imagine, how wet you were right now, how wet he was making you. cheeks reddening as he spoke to you.

“go on kitten, b.e.g.” the knife was pointed in to your skin, pushing hard enough to draw a little blood on to it.

“please jos-please dont kill me mr ghostface, i really want to be in the sequel.. ,you can do anything you want to me,.. ill do anything.” you pleaded so desperate and you could practically feel his smirk as he pressed a leg between your aching thighs.

“i know you will but its cute of you to remind me.. now shut the fuck up and go sit on the bed.” he ordered and you quickly did as he told.

you walked back into the room and sat on your knees on the bed, facing him as he walked over to you with a smirk before pulling the mask back down. his hand palmed himself through his pants as he made his way over, your mouth almost watering at the sight.

“you wanna suck my cock?” he asks and you nod your head, already desperate to please and he chuckles. “good slut.”

he undoes his pants, leaving them around his thighs before he grabs a fistful of your hair, dragging your face to meet with his already hard dick.

“s.u.c.k. now”.

you immediately take him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip before your head dips lower taking in more of him.

he groans as your cheeks hollow, and you look up at him,.. well the mask.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he grunts out, pushing your head down to choke on his cock. “good fucking kitten gag on my cock.”

you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second as he continued. josh had never yet been this rough with you and you couldnt lie. you really liked it and you could tell that he did too.

he drags you off and your head up to meet his mask. "you want me to cum down your slutty little throat before i slit it open? hm is that what you want little whore?" he asks and you practically whimper.

"please mr.ghostface." you nod and he pushes you back down, you latching back onto his cock instantly.

he holds you hair again, fucking into your face due to his desperate state now. he twitches in your mouth before spilling down your throat and you swallow without hesitation.

"thank you mr.ghostface." you smile up at him in the most innocent way possible, attempting to rub your thighs together for some release.

"stand." he orders and you scramble to your feet in front of him and with no warning he rips off your top and drags down your underwear. "so fucking perfect, id be insane not to want to cut your pretty little throat wouldnt i? hm?" he asks and you nod.

"stupid slut." he laughs before pulling you to sit on his lap, his cock directly below your aching cunt.

"what do you want babe? tell me what you want." he coos, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and you sigh.

"i want to ride you.. please." you almost moan just at the thought he nods.

"go on then kitten, maybe if youre good i wont have to kill you, hm? ill keep you around as my own little toy." he questions and you dont even answer.

you quickly sink down on his cock, moaning out loudly as you finally feel him inside of you. "josh o.h m.y g.o.d." he groans, gripping at your hips and forcing you to move.

you bounce up and down as he uses a hand to grab at one of your boobs. "perfect, youre so fucking perfect." he grunts and you smile down at him, pressing a kiss to his mask. "and so so cute." his hand trails up your back to tug at your hair.

"mi..-mister im close." you moan out, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach.

"hold it." he spits, his nail digging into your hip as he begins to thrust up into you, helping both of you to get closer.

his free hand grabs your throat, fingers tightening around it as he fucks you both to your highs.

"go on kitten show me how much of a good girl you are cum all over my cock." he tells you and you cum immediately, your nails dragging over his all black clothed chest as you moan loudly, screaming his name over and over.

"fuck." he grunts, as he lets go of your throat letting you fall against him as the two of you come down, breathing heavily for a few minutes.

"babe.." josh asks, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear and you hum, tracing patterns over his chest. "you okay?" he asks, continuing to play with your hair and you nod, exhausted.

“you never told me you into ghostface hm?” he laughs and you shrug.

“i got too many horror crushes.” you confess.

“oh yeah?"

"wait.. does beetlejuice count as horror too?" you quiz to no one really.

josh laughs.

__

idk im bored

jesus fucking christ anon.

Josh definitely would, especially around Halloween time since he has an excuse for dressing up in the costumes.

was not expecting a smut oneshot in my inbox, but i am not mad about it at all, good lord.

[professonalarttheclownfan]

Jealous

David x fem!reader

(I am obsessed with this man)

UPDATE-finally got round to editing it and making it a little better in my opinion.

You been hired as a part of the makeup team for the 3rd Terrfier having the first 2 be some of your favourite films, you were stoked beyond words.

The makeup and costuming department was a small due to a smaller budget. So you’d gotten the know the others well. It was the first day on set and you’d yet to meet any of the actors, getting the prosthetics ready, and talking through any final makeup changes with Damien.

You’d been given the golden ticket, working on the man himself, thee art the clown. Due to clashing schedules the cast read through was something you’d had to miss out on, so you really were a newbie. Having been in awe of David since Terrfier came out, getting to be so up close to him was a dream come true.

You’d come to set early to get set up and after talking with Damien, you grabbed your kit, laying out the things you needed and the order you’d use stuff in. Being able to be in the quiet was calming, your nerves were heightened, feeling like you were living in a dream. You were talented, but to be working with the likes of Damien and David had your head spinning.

A light knock pulled you out of your head, it was still slightly early but nothing major, still, the knock surprised you none the less.

“Come in” you called out, pushing your half empty kit bag on the the shelf. You hadn’t realised it was David that had knocked since you were stood with your back still facing the door.

“Thought I’d come say hey” his voice was gentle yet charming, you spun on your heels to face him, your cheeks turning up ward into a bright smile. There he was stood right there, within arms reach. You were taken aback at how truly handsome he was, you knew he was attractive from photos and panel videos but nothing like having him stand in-front of you in the flesh.

“Since you know we’re going to be spending hours a day together. Plus we never got to meet at the cast reading. I was kinda gutted you weren’t there. I love your work, especially that joker piece you did” he continued, letting out a small laugh.

“Hey! yeah, im y/n. It’s actually nice to finally meet you. I was so bummed I had to miss it. Im in shock that you know of my work! But thank you that really means alot!” You answered sticking your hand toward him, he returned the gesture. Gently placing his hand in yours and shaking it. You locked eye contact with the tall man, a blush rose to your cheeks, which in turn caused to look away.

You both clicked instantly, after light flirting and a conversation that seemed to flow like water, it was time to get him in the chair. This man was a charmer, you don’t know how you’d survive the duration of filming, you could already feel yourself gaining feelings for him.

~a couple of months into filming

You’d gotten to know David well, and he you. You two had become kind of inseparable. Finding that you both seemed to gravitate toward each other, even on days that David wasn’t filming you’d usually end up doing something together to get your and his mind off of work for a while. The early mornings and late nights you had together became the best part of the working day for both of you, although doing the makeup and taking the said makeup off was tedious, you and David got the trailer to yourselves and that time was filled with belly laughs and constant chatter between the two of you. Your feelings had developed for David, being around him so much just intensified them.

After filming finished, premiers and cons were beginning. Your name had gotten out there, you’d become as popular as the main cast especially due to all the content fans got from your and David’s outings.

~You’d been invited to a panel, along with David. You’d stood at the side of the stage. You’d never done anything like this before, your anxiety was through the roof, your knees shook as you waited shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You felt a firm squeeze on your shoulder you knew instantly who it was, David. He kept his arm over your shoulders whilst he stood beside you. As if he was magic, he could tell how nervous you were about the whole thing. You appreciated him.

“You’re gonna smash it pretty lady” he whispered to you, pulling you into a hug, he rested his chin on top of your head not letting go until he was called up onto the stage.

It was your turn, you tapped the tip of your middle finger against the pad of your thumb a habit you’d picked up to replace picking at the skin around your fingers when you got anxious, the crowd was far larger then you’d expected. You took the seat next to David, and plopped your self on the chair behind the long table.

The interviewer was pretty, no. Drop dead gorgeous. And you could tell she had eyes for David, you swallowed down the pit you had in your stomach. The flirting was obvious, she batted her lashes, pushed her arms to reveal more of her cleavage, all the text book things. You didn’t hate her, why would you? but you envied that she could probably have David right there and then if she wanted too. You were quiet on the stage, you’d usually be able to keep your anxiety in check and David picked up on this instantly, he hated seeing you struggling, he wanted to hug you, comfort you, but he couldn’t so instead he hooked his pinky finger on to yours under the table, if anything it helped calm him too.

If asked a question you’d answer and thank fans when ever they came up. You were extremely grateful and loved every single one of them, they meant you could be sat were you were today. But due to your inner turmoil you tried your best to stay composed remaining polite and appreciative but quiet. Jealousy bubbled, even though he sat there with his pinky intertwined with yours you’d convinced yourself he only viewed you as a friend, he was a charming beautiful soul, you hated being like this you were a grown adult. But with it mixed in with the shame and the embarrassment, for thinking about David romantically. Why would a man such as himself glance your way, when he was surrounded by such interesting, gorgeous women?

A fan had walked up to the mic situated in the audience, you were away with your thoughts and you hadn’t realised the fan had asked a question directed toward just you, having the majority of fans ask questions primarily for David you hadn’t realised this one was for you. You felt David unlink his pinky with yours and gently place his hand on your wrist, David gave your arm a slight stroke with his thumb to get your attention, offering you a reassuring smile whilst tilting his head ever so slightly toward the fan.

“Hey, Sorry! Could you repeat that? I didn’t quite hear” you smiled at the fan, feeling bad for not listening.

“Of course! hi I’m kay! im such a huge fan of you! So obviously me and the fans want to know what was your favourite thing to do in your down time when you weren’t working on the film? We’ve seen all the photos of your guys days out but I really wanna know!” Kay finished, it was an odd question but a sweet one at that with all the photos circulating of you and the cast hanging out, fans get curious.

“Hmm, probably just catching a film with David and sometimes other cast members every so often! Or me and David would find the BEST takeout places if we were filming in the same location for a while so we’d always get takeout then build Lego sets together. Elliot would join in when he wasn’t too busy too! Me and David also have a shared love of theatre so we’d catch shows together! Especially musicals. I think having down time when filming a project like this is highly important! being around guts and gore is so so fun but day in day out can get tiring”

The fan seemed super happy with the answer you gave, but what you did miss out was any time you spent with David was your favourite when working or not, even when the job load was stressful David made it all feel okay again.

You were desperate to get off of the stage, your emotions were starting to drain you and so was your social battery and thankfully the panel was coming to a finish,

“We want to thank the panel today! to the wonderful David and Y/n!” The lady said, the crowd erupted with applause, you thanked the crowd and left the stage. The interviewer nodded her head toward you as you walked off, you returned the gesture. Once off the stage you turned to wait for David releasing she’d swooped in to give David a goodbye hug, the hug lasted a while, and with that you walked away you needed air.

Mentally beating yourself up for ever thinking there was something special between you and him, surprised at yourself for just walking away, as you’d usually wait for David or vice versa. But you needed a breather. Being in love with this man was too much. Soon as the press and cons were over you’d have to go back to your old life anyway, a life that was a million worlds away from David’s . His new found stardom would mean, you’d soon become just another makeup artist he’s worked with. And it hurt.

You’d managed to make your way outside avoiding the large crowds of horror fans by navigating the labyrinth of corridors in the venue,“Hey, y/n wait up!” David called out to you, you hadn’t realised David was behind you, his tall frame taking large fast steps toward you making his way through the door that was propped open.

“Why’d you speed off? I saw you wait for me off stage for a sec then you vanished. I was gonna ask if you wanted to sneak off and go get coffee, luckily I’d seen you through the window” he smiled down at you once he caught up, your face was flush and red. It’s like you couldn’t even look at him, you’d made your self feel like a child with a one way crush.

“Just needed some air, big crowds, it’s all new to me.” You answered him, you both walked in sync with each other. You allowed yourself to take deep breaths, it was all abit overwhelming. From being around people you now considered family every day, to falling in love, to having to do press and premieres. To knowing it was all going to go back to how it was before again.

“Wanna sit?” He gestured toward a bench, and you obliged. You had seemed to manage to find a quiet haven away from the craziness that was just beyond a wall.

“Y/n, what’s really going on? I know you were anxious but on that stage, it’s like you’d lost your sparkle. And I know for a fact you can handle your anxiety like a badass.” he was so in tuned with people, especially yourself.

“I don’t know, I guess I was in my own head. Which I shouldn’t have been. The fans had come from far and wide. And I sat there, like an idiot” you looked toward your feet, kicking at the dry, dead leaves that lay on the floor.

“well, despite what’s going on in that head. You did well, I could tell you were struggling with something but the fact you got up there and did it anyways. I’m proud of you” he once again smiled at you, nudging you lightly with his shoulder.

“Thank you David, I’m so proud of what we’ve all created. But those crowds dude. They’re intense” you said whilst letting out a long breath,

“Y/n, wanna know something funny, the interviewer slipped her number in my pocket whilst we were leaving the stage! That’s an old school trick if I ever did see one.” He laughed, suddenly the jealousy came bubbling back in your stomach again, you gave a pathetic attempt at a laugh back trying to hide the hurt but failing miserably , you were never an actor.

“Bless her, I’m sure some horror film buff will make her happy” David said as he took the piece of paper out of his pocket and crumpled it in his fist. You looked at him,

“Your not going to text her?” You questioned, genuinely confused.

David looked at you, raising an eyebrow, “Why would I want to text another woman when I’ve got the woman I want right next to me.”

Your eyebrows knit together,

“Y/n, have you not caught on yet? You think I let just anyone paint my nails” he stated, as if the question was rhetorical.

you chuckled, genuine this time, “Yes David, because you’re so sweet if someone asked if they could paint your nails you’d let them” smiling at him, he was a man to be cherished.

“Well that’s besides the point, y/n. I am absolutely crazy about you. Silly. Head over heels or what ever you want to call it. I’m in love with you. And I need to tell you now, before you have to go back, other wise I’d never do it.”

You grabbed his arm, hooking yours onto his, relaxing into the bench and crossing your leg over the other in the process. A smile so wide slapped on your face you’d look manic to anyone walking by.

“Good, because im in love with you too. And thank god, because it means I don’t have to be jealous anymore” you smirked at him, as he turned to look at you, a grin plasters on his face too.

“Jealous nelly are we? I could tell you weren’t fond of that interviewer” he said as he leaned in, to finally kiss you.

[oozebrain]

Slow burn Art the clown x Reader. Reader is ND, has anxiety, and low self esteem.

Chapter 2 of How Close Your Soul

General warnings: descriptions of food insecurity and poverty, adult themes, drug use (weed), and thoughts associated with low self esteem. Minors DNI.

Chapter summary: With unlimited free time on your hands now, you go on an adventure in the city with your new friend. (Alt summary: you smoke a blunt with Art then go to McDonalds)

Your mind races as you walk. You rose early because you couldn’t fight off the feeling of anxiety. No, it wasn’t necessarily anxiety, you were restless. Art lingered on your mind and you were excited to see him again. You knew this was reckless to meet up with a stranger in an isolated alley, but your curiosity had often gotten the better of you.

You had a ways to go still and couldn’t help but be consumed with worry. What if he wasn’t there? What if something happened to him? What if you approached to find him injured or dead? You barely knew him, but the thought of him succumbing to the harsh elements hurt your heart and made you feel guilty for enjoying your own comfort during the cold fall night. As you noticed the frost on the grass your worries grew.

Winding through the alley, you navigate through discarded boxes and trash cans, overflowing with litter. There are syringes on the ground, indicating a spot for partying. They weren’t there yesterday and you hoped no one had given Art any trouble. You pace slowly back and forth as you survey the area.

You looked around, scanning the dumpsters and rows of cans for a sign of black and white. He stuck out in this landscape, yet he was nowhere to be seen. With a small voice you call out, “Art?”

You waited for a response but none came. Turning in place, you continue to soak in your surroundings for any trace of him. Your worries grew the longer you stood there. The spot he had cleared out to sit was still visible, a nest of sorts, but where was Art?

Behind you, you hear glass being ground into the pavement and look. It was Art, stone still with his hands in the air and an overly large smile on his face, showing off his rows and rows of teeth. His smile seemed endless and the gleam in his eye was disconcerting. You felt your worry and excitement change over into something else, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it was, you didn’t like it.

He’s wielding a hammer, and he looks thrilled as hell to see you. His mouth manages to stretch even further and his eyes are wide with anticipation. His grip on the hammer tightened as he took a step towards you, to which you responded by taking a step back. This dance continued for a few steps before you stopped. 

Was he going to hurt you? But why would he? Your hands began shaking as he maintained his static pose of intimidating stature. He was merely steps away and loomed over you. He was so tall that he blocked out the sun above and it shrouded his face in surreal shadows. It was as though his face twisted and contorted into a nightmarish entity. 

“Art?” You ask nervously and he gives no response. He doesn’t even blink, and you aren’t sure if he’s breathing. Surely you were not making another poor judge of character. You wring your hands together, “Um... I wanted to thank you for yesterday so I brought you something.”

His eyebrows twitched in response and some sort of fire was lit in his eyes. He was curious. He arm relaxed slightly as it lowered a little. Maybe this was some sort of game? Art was so hard to read, maybe he just had an intense sense of humor. Still, it’s frightening. You swallow hard and continue, “Do... you wanna smoke a blunt?”

He pauses and his smile turns into a grimace. Art is visibly thinking about your proposal. He looks away, deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed and forehead wrinkled. The man looked back to you, then back to the hammer for an uncomfortable period of time, then finally back to you. He made an inquisitive face and you revealed what you were talking about.

It was one your friend had given you. It was half smoked and hard as a rock, but still did just fine. You wave it a little like a tempting treat and his eyes follow its rapid movement. He finally drops the hammer, grabs his trash bag to drag behind, and closes the small gap between you.

Art stares at what is contained in your hand and you hold it out a little more so he can inspect it. He touches it lightly and his face only became more of a confused scowl. He looked at you then waved his hand in front of his face in a grimace, portraying he thought it would stink. You nod some, “Yeah it’s skunky but it doesn’t taste bad. There’s wax in it. Not like, candle wax... it’s hard to explain...”

You think a moment then look up at him, “Sometimes we just need to catch a good buzz, you know? I thought we could smoke and talk, maybe learn some more ASL.”

He perked up at that and signed his name with curious eyes to which you responded with a smile, “Yeah! Soon you’ll be a total chatterbox.”

You look around for a comfortable pace to sit and scope out a spot atop a dumpster. It looks like it was recently dumped and smelled the least offensive, so you hoist yourself up and hold your hand out for Art to follow. He has a much easier time clambering up the side than you did, but he struggles to heave his garbage bag beside him.

You didn’t ask about it. It was likely his only way to transport his possessions, but it still made you worry for him. It could easily become stolen or mistaken for actual trash. Perhaps you would get Art a proper means to carry his things, but that was getting ahead of yourself. Today your rent was due and you were seven hundred dollars short. There was no way you were going to get that much money in time, so you were doing the next best thing- running away from your problems. This was the present, and the present meant you were about to get high with a complete stranger.

“Are you okay with this?” You ask as you show him the blunt. He mouths ‘oh yeah’ a little too assertively and puffs his chest out. Though he seemed confident you wondered if he’d ever smoked weed before. You were become more and more curious about your friend, “Are you sure?”

He nodded enthusiastically with a smile but his eyes were transfixed on the mysteriously wrapped cigarette. Wherever it went his eyes followed. You patted your pocket and realized you forgot your lighter at home, “Damn. Art, you wouldn’t happen to have a lighter by any chance would you?”

Art holds his finger up in a ‘one moment’ gesture and starts looking through the same black trash bag as yesterday. From this angle you could see inside a little. It was a hodgepodge of metal, trinkets, saws...

Saws?

Your eyes widen when he pulls out a blow torch, his mouth stretched in a wide tooth filled grin of glee and accomplishment. He looked so proud to hold it in his hands and his lights lit up when he playfully blew at you with the fire. It should scare you on a deeper level than it did, but you really wanted to smoke.

“Awesome. Do you care if I see it? “ You ask, but he seems incredibly reluctant to hand it over as he hugs it to his chest and furrows his brows in response. His theatrics made it hard to take him seriously or view him as any sort of threat. 

So to the stranger with a blow torch you say, “Art, no offense man but I’m not gonna come outta here looking like creme brûlée.”

He laughs uproariously in silence and slaps his knee. That seemed to have tickled him and you relax a little. Another similarity. Humor. Finally, someone with a sense of humor. Art wipes a faux tear from his eye and obliges, shoulders still heaving sporadically in a fit of voiceless giggles.

You test it experimentally, a small lick of fire coming out the end. You look at art with raised brows and mirror his previous actions by blowing fire at him. He laughs again and offers you one, hardy clap on your back. It makes you feel warm and secure inside. You didn’t know how much you needed that, but you were silently grateful. 

He watched you with visible curiosity as you lit the end and took a deep inhale. You held it for as long as your lungs could stand before exhaling. Unconsciously you hold it out to Art to pass the blunt. Hesitantly, he takes it from you and holds it between the nails of his thumb and index finger.

You snort in a laugh. Who needs clips when you have him? You mime a smoking motion and nod to him, “Draw it into your mouth then hold it in your lungs, but don't—”

Before you could finish he was chiefing it. He took a hit as big as his lungs could expand, held it for half a second, then exploded in a coughing fit. It wracked his body and he held his chest, all of his motions dramatic and theatrical as he figuratively withered and died right in front of you. It was definitely his first time.

You reach out and, after careful consideration, rest your hand on his back and pat as you finish your sentence, “...don’t take a big hit.”

He stills instantly at your touch and you withdraw your hand like you’ve touched a hot stove. Had you crossed a boundary? Were you a nuisance? Did you hurt him? Were you what your boss thought: a predatory creep who preyed on older men? Was that possible?

“I’m... I’m sorry Art.” You offer awkwardly and rub your hands together, fidgeting and picking at your nails. An audible gulp leaves you as you stare down at the ground, too ashamed to look at him. You didn’t know what you did wrong, but you’d certainly done something. 

Silence falls between the two of you for a while. It feels like hours as the absence of noise makes your ears ring and only amplifies your transgression. You finally look to him and see him in the same position, still as a stone and just as silent. After a moment you find your voice, “Art... are you okay?”

His eyes visibly shift when he breaks out of his trance and he finally looks to you. Art stares at you, barely half lidded and the scelra bloodshot and red. He offers you a lazy grin and you mirror it, relief flooding you. He wasn’t upset, he was just stoned!

“You scared me there for a minute buddy!” You sigh as your anxiety leaves you and begin to swing your feet idly back and forth. He sleepily watches your feet a moment before mirroring you, keeping your same pace. Art trails his eyes up your body then meets your eyes, the same lazy, blissful smile spread over his face. He takes another, much smaller, hit off of the blunt, holds it, then exhales through his nose. 

The smoke snakes upwards and plumes around him. He caught on quick. Art hands you back the blunt and you accept it gratefully then taking a greedy hit off it. This time, you enjoy it. You savor it and hold it until your lungs feel as though they are smoldering and flaking away. You exhale slowly, watching the swirls and twirls of the white plumes that flow like water in the sun’s rays.

“So, Art...” You begin, passing the blunt back to him, “what are you into? Like what are your hobbies?”

He visibly ponders a moment, looks you dead in the eye and offers you the scariest, widest smile you’ve ever seen. It reminded you of something you’ve seen browsing the depths of horror forums. You heart palpitates as he stares at you, eyes wild and teeth prominent. You had no idea what kind of emotion he was displaying and nervously averted your eyes.

Art tapped on your shoulder and motions upward for you to meet his gaze again. Nervously, you oblige and find his expression has changed dramatically. He’s back to sleepy eyes and a closed mouth, crooked smile. Art hands you the blunt back so he can use both hands to speak.

He makes a single handed digging motion, adding little details like running into rocks and patting the soil down. You smile at him in kind, “You like to garden?”

Art pauses and makes a ‘kind of’ motion with his hand then waves you off. That isn’t what he was trying to say. He taps his chin in thought, this time creating the illusion of digging with a two handed shovel.  But still you do not understand and offer him a sheepish apology and urge him to continue. 

He makes an arch shape near the head of where he was digging, but that only confused you further. You point at the imaginary object, “What is that?”

Art huffed and pointed aggressively to a pebble on the ground. You ponder a moment then offer, “Rock? Close? Uhh... stone?”

He points to you with joy and nods fervently, rolling his hand and looking at you in giddy apprehension to finally guess the correct answer. But nothing comes. You purse your lips, afraid to say the wrong thing. Art repeats the motion, never taking his eyes off you as he dug in the imaginary hole then made a pulling motion at the air and loading up his pockets. 

You look at him, desperately trying to understand but the concept continues to not only elude you but become more confusing with each additional gesture. You want to know, but if it isn’t gardening what else could it be? What other activities involve digging holes near large stone objects at the head and rummaging through their contents? The only thing that kept coming to mind was digging up buried treasure and you knew that isn’t what it was.

He shares your frustration and sighs in silence. Art throws his hands up and draws a distressed question mark in the air over and over again. You didn’t understand what he didn’t understand. And your confusion made his confusion grow. Your eyes widen and to ease the pressure you say, “I think we’re too high man.”

Art’s eyes widen and he seems briefly alarmed before relaxing all at once and nodding along with your remark. He smiles at you and wipes imaginary sweat off his forehead and lifts his hat to you in a polite gesture. You weren't going to stop trying to learn about your new friend and decided to do a rewind.

“Let’s get to the spelling. So, Art, what does the letter of your hobby start with?” You never thought your limited knowledge of ASL would come in handy when smoking a blunt with a clown, but this life was truly full of surprises.

He drew a G in the air and you repeat the sign for the corresponding letter. He mirrors you then draws several more letters in the air. R... A... V... E...

“Grave?” You ask, tilting your head slightly. Suddenly, it dawned on you, “Oh! Do you work at a cemetery? You tend to the graves?”

This simply cracked him the hell up. He laughed and laughed, holding his hands over his mouth in a wordless giggle as though he were bottling up some big juicy secret. After a moment he nodded with a smile, mouthing 'sure'. That explained some of his strange behaviors. Dead people didn’t talk and neither did he, so they already had more in common than the living. You, yourself, had felt more of a relation to the dead than the living, as well, and found his profession interesting. 

Before you could ask him any more questions he gripped his stomach, brow knitted in confusion. He looked to you questioningly, lips parted as though to speak. He was mumbling something voicelessly but you couldn’t hear nor read his lips. You try to placate him.

“It’s called the munchies, it’s normal.”

But he wouldn’t stop staring at you. His stomach audibly grumbled and he swallowed hard. He was looking at you in a way no one ever had before. He was looking at you like YOU were food. You’re high; you’re feeling bold and joke, “Bro if you’re gonna cannibalize me go ahead, with the week I’ve had I’m ready.”

He stops and laughs, his eyes crinkling into slits as he gets lost in a fit of giggles. His hand didn’t leave his stomach as he rubbed it absent mindedly, still staring at you with wolfish hunger. His stomach gurgled again and he winced some. He hunger was clearly a step above regular munchies.

“I’ve heard people taste like pork...” Your stomach growls at the thought of slow roasted meat, so tender it fell off the bone. You’d always had a fascination with human meat, and one of your current friends had dabbled in cannibalism in their childhood so it wasn’t too far fetched of a concept. Art did not strike you as a cannibal, but if he was that strangely wouldn’t bother you, at least not right now. Maybe you really were too high. 

Without warning, Art slides off the dumpster. His trash bag lands on the ground with a loud, metallic thud, and then he extends his hand out to you. His hand is filthy, his gloves stiff and stained with dirt and some sort of bodily fluid. You weren’t sure what it was, but logic escaped you right now.

You took his hand in yours and allowed him to help you off the dumpster. With effort, you awkwardly slide down and begin following after him like a puppy. At first you struggled to keep up with his long gait but he slowed down so the two of you could walk side by side.

“Where are we going, Art?” You look up at him and ask curiously. He smiles down at you and makes an M in the air in the same shape as the iconic golden arches. The idea of a hot, greasy, barely edible hamburger made you so hungry you nearly dry heaved right there. But then it hit you, “I don’t have any money.”

He waved you off and rubbed his fingers together then pointed at himself smugly, showing that he had money and was paying. But could you really allow him to do something like that? You open your mouth to protest and he holds his finger to his lips to shush you. You relent. Art is going to do what he wants, and if he wants to buy you a cheeseburger then so be it. Perhaps the pair of you could have a symbiotic relationship. You were interested in compiling resources, so this was just part of it.

The walk there was short but simulaneously felt as though it dragged on forever. From the parking lot, you could smell the grilled beef and frying grease and it made your mouth water. It seemed to have a similar effect on Art as his stomach produced a low rumble of its own. With a flamboyant display, he holds the door open for you and makes a sweeping motion with his arm for you to enter. You titter in playful bashfulness and enter. The restaurant is warm and the delicious smell of food envelops you like cartoon smoke.

But people are looking at you, whispering and giving you ugly stares. They’re all pointing at Art and hurried murmurs emerging: ‘is that him?’, ‘what horrible taste’, ‘appalling.

Appalling? 

You realize they aren’t talking about you, they’re talking about Art. You look up to him. He pays them no mind. His mouth is agape as he strums his chin in thought, voicelessly mouthing to himself as he read the menu. You already know what you’re going to get and stand beside him patiently. You give him a few moments then tug on his sleeve to get his attention, of which he obliges.

“Which number do you want, Art?”

He ponders again before holding two fingers up, indicating he wanted the same thing you were getting. You smile, “Great minds, yeah?”

Art offers a small chuckle and nods, lingering behind as you approach the counter. The cashier seems off, uncomfortable, and scared. You were familiar with stares of the ignorant, but this seemed different. She seemed petrified.

“Are you okay?” The cashier whispers. 

You look around and everyone is staring at you. You eye her nervously and offer a wary, “Yeah...?”

“Are you sure? He’s just... he’s just a guy in a costume, right?”

You look back at Art, who is enamored with the toy display, his face merely inches from the bright and colorful beanie babies contained within. You’re too high to deal with this kind of dumb shit right now. Why was everyone looking at him like that? And why was everyone being so mean about him? He was just a guy in a clown costume... wasn’t he?

Art looks back at you and gives a friendly little wave before resuming fawning over the toys. There’s no way this guy was some kind of depraved murderer or demon, he was just a guy in a suit. He was weird, like you. You both had a similar sense of humor and people just didn’t get you. So what if he liked to dress like a clown? You thought he was brave to be who he was and admired how easily he brushed off other people's abrasive attitude.

You look back at the cashier, “Yeah it’s just a costume. We’d like two number twos and we’ll be getting that to go, please.”

With shaking hands, she types in the order. Art is by your side, digging through his trash bag before withdrawing a wallet. He flips through the row of credit cards then hands one out to the cashier. You lived off credit cards for a while too so you thought little of it.

She takes it, trying her best not to make contact with his hand and swipes it. It was approved and she slid it back across the counter, “Thanks we’ll uh, we’ll call your number as soon as its ready.”

She can’t take her eyes off Art as she backs away and retreats to the kitchen. She is talking to what you assume is her manager, pointing and motioning to the pair of you. Seriously? What was her problem. Part of you wants to confront her and tell her to mind her own fucking business, but your anxiety roots you firmly in place.

This display is not lost to Art. His lip curls into a smirk as he returns to the beanie babies. You join him and admire them. You loved stuffed animals and your eyes glitter with wonder. You’ve never seen any of these before, all small little animals. There’s a turtle, a red panda, a giraffe, a hedgehog... so many wonderful little creatures.

“Wow...” You breathe out, “I wish I’d gotten a happy meal instead. I’d love to have these.”

“Number six forty three!” Comes a voice behind you. That’s your number. You happily scamper over to the counter to retrieve your bag and drinks.

“You ready, Art?” You call back to him but he says nothing. He looks at you, then back to the toy display. Without warning, he strikes it again, and again, and again. The hard plastic cracks and crumbles from his blows and it is not long before he is loading up his trash bag with every beanie baby in the display.

You were so dumbfounded by Art’s actions you weren’t sure what to say, or do, so you did nothing but watch and stare. This is something you had fantasized about many times as a child, eyeing the coveted toys in the case your parents could not afford, but you never had the strength to execute it. One by one, each beanie baby was snatched up.

“Sir! Sir you can’t--” The cashier is cut off. He looks back at her with a wide, toothy grin and sizes her up. Even a hardened veteran of customer service isn’t immune to his intimidating stare. He holds his threatening stance a moment before looking back to you and grabbing your hand. He practically drags you out of there, an entire audiences’ eyes on you as you make your dramatic exit.

The further you get away the more the situation sinks into you, and so does the ferocious anxiety. What was going to happen? How was he being so casual about this? Did he regularly steal from their toy display, is that why they were looking at him like that?

As you both tuck behind an old gas station your anxiety finally breaks. Oh no...

“Art what if we get in trouble? What was that back there man? What...”

He shushes you and rests his hand on your shoulder. This time, you still and look back at him. Though stoic, he seems weirdly reassuring. You had just knocked off a McDonald’s and stolen twelve beanie babies. TWELVE. 

“What if we get banned from every McDonald’s? What if we go to jail.” Fear washes over you and it multiplies with the influence of weed, “Art I don’t wanna go to jail. We have to take them back and apologize... no we can’t do that, we’ll be arrested... What if they’re looking for us... Art! What if they’re--”

Art shushes you again and rubs your shoulder gently. He gives the ‘ok’ sigh with his hand and pats you. He begins to walk away but stops as he realizes you aren’t following him. You’re too anxious and a prisoner in your own mind. This is too scary, it’s too intense. Your rush of adrenaline had quickly turned over into a full blown anxiety attack.

Your heart pounded so hard it made you see spots and you struggled to stand still. You began pacing, wringing your hands as thousands of thoughts burst into your mind all at once. What if this is it? You’ve lost your job, you’re going to lose your apartment, and now you were going to jail for stealing stuffed animals... at least this way you’d still have shelter and three meals a day...

There was a warmth against your back. You start and look up at the source: Art. His hand is between your shoulder blades. He makes no motion to move but stays there, silent and strong as his large hand offers you a tether to the moment. You say nothing and just focus on the feeling. His touch felt so deliberate and affirming, it felt meaningful and stilled your trembling. 

You wanted to lean into him, but you weren’t sure if he’d appreciate that. You look at him questioningly and, is if he read your mind, moves his hand to your shoulder and draws you near to him. You remain this way for a while. He holds you in silence, hand gingerly rubbing up and down on your arm and occasionally patting as he tried to comfort you.

It was working. You hadn’t felt this secure since you’d been in His arms: the former object of your affection who now made your heart ache and your stomach sick. You are touch starved and his affection makes something inside you melt. You nuzzle into his chest and he allows this, moving his hand to rest on your head and gently smooth your hair. 

Your hands are too full to reciprocate the hug, but you do your best to return the affection by leaning further into him and he obliges  by holding you closer. The pair of you remain this way for some time. There are no police sirens, no angry mob, and no cashier chasing after you. All of your worries were limited to your mind and, gradually, you relax. Slowly, you pull away from him and offer him a kind, but slightly strained, smile.

“Art... I mean this in the nicest way possible but... You gotta take a shower man. Do you wanna come over to my place? I have body wash and stuff you can use.”

His eyebrows fly to the sky and his mouth forms into a large O. This expression is brief as a wide smile takes its place. He nods happily, his little hat bobbling, and you mirror his smile. You felt good that you were able to help someone out and reciprocate his aid. As the pair of you made your way home with McDonald’s loot, you begin to wonder if this will be the start of a beautiful and peculiar friendship.

[haljordns]

big brother ! rooster one-shot

summary: rooster gets back from deployment and surprises you

wc: 1.3k

tags: dad!maverick, pops!iceman, big brother!rooster & gn!reader

to: @agerefandomrambles , your big brother bradley agenda has inspired me & I hope you enjoy :)

credits: x x x x x x

You hardly paid any attention to your dad when you heard him approach from below, you were perched up in your tree fort with one foot dangling down and you absolutely were not sulking. One of your untied laces blew in the wind and you kicked dejectedly at a nearby tree branch, when Maverick had climbed the ladder enough to reach he tugged at the loose lace to get your attention.

“Hey nugget,” He smiled. “Thought I’d find you here.”

“Go ‘way.” You mumbled, looking away.

Maverick wasn’t deterred in the slightest and you begrudgingly made room when he climbed the rest of the way into your tree fort. Normally it was cool having a navy pilot for a dad but at times like these, it was a little annoying – you doubted the typical 40-year-old parent was climbing up a rickety wooden ladder into a shoddy tree fort but here Mav was anyway.

“We’re making chicken and dumplings for dinner, won’t you join us?” Mav leaned into your shoulder peering at you like comfort food might persuade you down.

“‘M not hungry,” you replied. “And that's Brads favorite, we shouldn’t have it without him.”

Rooster was supposed to have come home two weeks ago. Two entire weeks and you’d been so patient but then his return had been pushed back and then delayed and now you had no clue when you’d see him again. You’d tried to call him today only to be met with a voicemail to which you’d let out an impressive string of curse words.

Ice had been less than impressed. You’d earned yourself an hour of quiet time with no TV, no cell phone, and no games. When you’d been sprung free you’d headed straight for your tree house. It wasn’t fair, you just missed your big brother was all.

“It’s comfort food, nugget,” Maverick insisted. “B wouldn’t want you to go on a hunger strike.”

He used one hand to brush some stray hair out of your eyes even though you were pointedly not meeting his gaze; though you were frustrated you supposed it was nice to have your dad around. You sighed and slumped into his side, letting his arm come around your shoulders easily.

“I miss him,” you mumbled and began to pick at a loose thread in the rip of your jeans.

Maverick was quiet for a moment as he ran a comforting hand up and down in your back. “I know, we all miss him, but he won’t be gone forever.”

“Feels like it,” you pouted.

Maverick huffed a small laugh at that and you pulled back to glare at him, this was not a laughing matter. Your dad put his hands up in a show of surrender and you eventually let up on your glowring. You were fully prepared to sit up in your treehouse all evening but eventually, your stomach rumbled disrupting the comfortable silence. Your dad was smiling fondly but didn’t laugh when a blush rose up in your cheeks.

“C’mon,” Maverick said as he began to maneuver himself back down the ladder. “Dinners almost ready.”

You moved to follow him but then paused. “You said… we’re making dinner…”

Maverick sighed and rolled his eyes. “Pops is making dinner.”

You grinned at that and nodded with a renewed vigor to get out of your tree and into the kitchen.

Though Maverick got down before you he waited for you at the bottom. When you met him there he offered his hand to you and even though you were often one to insist you were too old to hold your dad's hand you took it with a shy smile. Dad pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head briefly before you got started towards the house.

“Love you kiddo.”

“Love you too Dad.”

The house was quiet save for the sounds of Ice moving around in the kitchen and when you got inside Maverick suggested you go clean up for dinner. You bounded up the stairs and made quick work of scrubbing your face and hands before darting back to the kitchen, following the smell of a Kazansky-Mitchell household special.

You were breathless by the time you got to your Pops side, leaning against the counter so you could peer up at him where he was tending to the food on the stove.

“First of all,” He started, turning the heat down. “Careful around the stove.”

You rolled your eyes but took a step back anyway to appease him.

“And no running in the house!” Maverick called from the living room, leaning over the back of the couch so he could point at you. “For such a tiny little thing you sound like a pack of wild bulls.”

You scrunched your nose and stuck your tongue out at him but he only mirrored you. Ice sighed but he was still smiling. “Alright children, settle down. Nugget why don’t you go set the table?”

“You’re putting me to work?” You gave him your biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes.

Ice looked unimpressed. “Consider it the price for your dinner.”

Before you could bound off Ice put a hand on the nape of your neck, looking down at you with thinly veiled concern. “You okay?”

You shrugged. “Just wish he was here, you know?”

Ice sighed and nodded before he leaned down to press a kiss to your hairline. “I know.”

The two of you stayed close for a moment before Ice nudged you off toward the dining room. “The tables not gonna set itself.”

You grinned at him leaning up to press a messy kiss to his cheek before getting plates and utensils ready. You set the table as fast as possible – you had a little game you played in your head trying to see if you could beat your time. So far the fastest you’d been able to set the table without breaking a plate was a minute and 15 seconds.

Maverick wandered into the kitchen right as you were setting down the last plate and you beamed at him showing off your work. Maverick nodded approvingly as ruffled a hand through your hair, you ducked out of the way just in time for Ice to enter the kitchen, setting dinner down in the middle of the table.

“Looks like you forgot a plate, kiddo,” Maverick commented as he rounded the table to help Ice who was bringing in a plate of rolls. “You’re losing your touch.”

“What do you mean?” You scoffed, affronted, as you did another plate count. “Three plates, three mouths!”

“You forget about me already?”

You whirled around so quickly you nearly bumped into the corner of the table, would have if Ice hadn’t caught you with a quick hand. You were staring with a mixture of awe and disbelief at where Bradley stood fighting a stupid smug smile in the dining room entryway.

“You grew a mustache!” was the first thing you could muster.

“You like it?” Rooster asked running his fingers over it and trying to look down at it even though it was attached to his face. Maverick snorted a laugh that he tried to cover with a cough.

“It looks stupid.” You settled on, crossing your arms. You were fighting your own smile but Rooster had been away for two extra weeks. You had to make him work for it.

“You look stupid,” He shot back.

The two of you stared each other down but eventually, your steely glowering dissolved into grins and you finally ran to him. He had put on more muscle than he’d had the last time and he picked you up easily holding you in a tight hug. “Hey there, monkey.”

He’d always called you that when you were younger because you had a habit of clinging and climbing him like a jungle gym. “Hi, butthead.”

Rooster laughed. “Forgot what a twerp you were.”

Rooster set you down gently but you took hold of his hand. “Better get you used to it.”

You knew that eventually, he’d have to go back. He’d be called away and you wouldn’t see him again for long months at a time, but now he was here and that was good enough for you.

“Oh and Pops made dinner, not Dad, so it’ll be really good!” You promised as you grinned up at your big brother.

“Hey!”

[flightfoot]

From @pomegranate29: #very well deserved#but not super helpful#im already subscribed#seriously echo is amazing

Agreed!

Okay so I'm guessing this is an invitation for more recommendations for authors who need more attention? There's definitely some more, though I'm gonna try and avoid authors I've already recced on underappreciated authors lists. Honestly the authors I want to rec right now are really just for single fics. Still, I think they could use more attention. These are all ongoing fics, btw.

The Queens Requiem by TinyTulip

Chloe Bourgeois fled Paris hoping to escape the wreckage of her past, but New York isn't offering the fresh start she envisioned. Her mother is pushing her relentlessly into the spotlight, determined to mold Chloe into a star, despite her resistance. Meanwhile, mysterious ghost attacks plague the city. Chloe finds herself drawn into a web of supernatural chaos—and an unexpected encounter with two stolen Miraculous. In a city where heroes rise and fall, can she find her own path to redemption or will the shadows of her past keep her trapped? Before she could process what was happening, two swirling balls of light zipped past her, transforming in mid-air. In an instant, two small creatures materialized before her—a bear and a raven, their eyes gleaming with mischief. “Greetings! I am Mato, kwami of the bear,” “And I am Kalanv, kwami of the raven,” Chloe’s heart raced, her mind spiraling into panic. “What the—?!” “Surprise!” Mato beamed, grinning broadly. Chloe stumbled back, “What is going on?!” “Welcome to your new destiny!” Kalanv chirped, unfurling its wings. *Lots of angst before main plot kicks off*

This might just end up being the greatest Chloedemption fic I've ever read, if it continues being this good. It's set post-season 5, with Chloe being dragged to New York City by her mom and being forced through a grueling set of media appearances and lessons in order to rehabilitate her image. She ends up thoroughly regretting wanting her mother's attention.

She does, however, end up desiring the attention of Zoe's father, David. He's willing to make deals with her and try to help her with what she needs... but there's going to be strings attached that she doesn't understand. She even hears him threatening Zoe at one point, so she has some clue about what sort of person he is, but she desperately wants to believe that he genuinely cares for her, for her own psychological wellbeing. Chloe isn't solely surrounded by horrible people though. She runs into the Ghostforce crew and ends up making friends with them, getting a fresh start, though she has to learn how to actually do that.

I just really love how this fic is delving in-depth into Chloe's thoughts and feelings, while also setting up this large-scale conflict between David Lee's machinations and those of the heroes', with Chloe likely being the deciding factor on who "wins" this war.

---

Tales of Mamba Verte and Yamata by YukiEden

In a universe ruled by the self-proclaimed divine being called the Supreme, the world is repeatedly divided into two factions. Those who side with the Supreme and those who are against him. This is the story of both sides clashing and overlapping...

This is the most in-depth worldbuilding I've seen for the Reverse world, with getting to actually see the Supreme and getting an idea of how he sets up his followers, how he pits them against each other, and a bit about how the world runs.

What I really love, though, is the focus on Luka. This fic mainly revolves around Luka and Kagami, but moreso on Luka. I have trouble connecting with the guy normally, but here? YukiEden does a good job of showcasing his reasoning, his ideals, in such a way that he feels in line with canon!Luka, while still being his own unique entity. I always appreciate when a fic lets me connect with the guy, since he's one I tend to have trouble doing that with.

---

The Beauty Of A Rose by properjitterbug

Welcome to the Roaring 1920's! In the small town of Bellerose, Marinette and Adrien are childhood friends while secretly pining for each other. They lead happy lives until one day a long, forgotten promise is stirred awake; changing their lives in ways they couldn't imagine. Forced to become a beast from legend, Adrien vanishes overnight, leaving his loved ones with no explanation, and Marinette to tend a broken heart. With time marching on, Marinette is left to chase after ghosts of her past, while Adrien learns to accept his inner beast, and the courage to free himself from his enchanted isolation. But their trials are far from over—a mysterious illness sweeps through Bellerose, forcing them to embrace their powers in a desperate fight for their loved ones. HEA. Arc 1: Chapters 1-11: Complete Arc 2: Chapters 12-?: In Progress -- Werecat!Adrien x Marinette

This one's rated M for smut, so keep that in mind.

It's a fantastic Fantasy AU, which I'm a sucker for. I love Adrien slowly learning how to cope with his new circumstances, all while Marinette gets to know this mysterious Beast that frightens everyone else. I appreciate that while there's some light inspiration from Beauty and the Beast, it's very much its own plotline, and that "inspiration" is more along the lines of references than anything else. It's nice to see a new sort of fairy tale, and while I don't think the story will surprise a lot of people, it's executed very well and I think it deserves more attention.

Who is an underrated writer who deserves more attention?

Hmmm... I think I'll shine a spotlight on @echo-has-queries, or on AO3, Echo_elates. They've only written an handful of fics, but I've loved them, and they don't get nearly enough attention relative to how good they are. Seriously, the Lovecraftian sort of horror of Through Yellow Eyes is great to read, and I adored getting Kagami's perspective as she got to know robot!Adrien and dealt with getting back into contact with her ex, Marinette, in Each Hum And Click. The prose in both fics is really good, and it's a shame that neither fic has broken the 50 kudos barrier yet.

I'd love for that to change, so go check out Echo's fics!

[r0setyler]

thinking about the roses on this makes me -

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

do you think that what the doctor usually feels for companions, rather than romantic or sexual attraction, might just be idolisation?

[faaun]

my research partner and i are huddled in a blanket in paddington waiting for a too-late train i already miss you and you and you

[cringelordofchaos]

DAM remember back then when the only hints of Amy being into magic and history were that one Sonic CD manual and the fact that she could go invisible in Sonic 06?? And now tarot cards are literally her PRIMARY MOVES??MOMG??

[grayve-mistake]

I was on here at 11 years old! I just didn't have an account yet lol (I made this one at 13). Anyway it would be entirely mlp ask comic reblogs

If you guys were on here at 11 years old what would you be posting about

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

the setting itself can be the monster... but also... a lover? much to think about