#so maybe they were just extra willing to put extra work in because they knew that in ten years time they would be who they are now

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can you please do a part two of the Sebastian fluff where he lets his thoughts get the best of him and gets anxious that reader now sees him as a monster because of what they read on his document so he prepares extra good items and plans to give them heavy discounts and even some free but reader barges in like

"MANTIS SHRIMP??? PUNCH SOMETHING RIGHT NOW"

And after a bit of reassuring(possibly some punching too bc reader is too starry-eyed for him to say no to em) Seb realizes he trully never had anything to worry about and just, generally grows fonder of reader?

Ps. Adore your writing, keep up the awesome work!!

"God, why did I let them take it? Stupid, stupid, stupid.."

Sebastian couldn't stop beating himself up, even though he knew he shouldn't care about the opinion of any human sent by Urbanshade--especially one of the "expendable" class.

Yet because it was you, specifically--who was currently in possession of his document--he began to wonder what you'd think of him once you found out the truth:

That he was nothing but a horrible monster. Plain and simple.

If not the knowledge that he was a hideous chimera of several sea creatures' DNA...then surely the revelation that he caused the lockdown of the Blacksite would ultimately make you resent him.

He released all those creatures, who stopped at nothing to prevent you from reaching the crystal and had you running, fighting, or hiding for your life.

He was responsible for all the injuries you've sustained while crawling into his shop, desperately needing a medkit and a place to rest.

He would understand if you'd never want to visit him again after what they documented about him..but the image of your furious expression and overthinking the words you'd possibly say to him left him feeling incredibly anxious.

Suddenly, Sebastian found himself gathering more supplies. Medkits, code breakers, and every light source he had currently in the shop, trying to market down whatever he could. He was even willing to let you take batteries for free...which was something he'd never normally do.

Would it be enough to make up for everything horrific you discovered about him and the terrors he indirectly put you through? Absolutely not.

Was he willing to try it anyways just for the small chance that you'd keep visiting him? Maybe.

No other human has shown him a single ounce of kindness or gratitude for his services. Nobody except you, of course, and he refused to lose that.

-thump, thump-

"Shit.." He froze, hearing movement in the vent duct, hands trembling for his light to shine brighter. Part of him wishes he could stay in the dark, as he didn't wanna see your face and whatever hurt expression it could possibly hold.

But he knew it'd be rude if you actually needed to buy something, so he forced himself to look as your familiar figure crawled out of the small opening. You seemed out of breath, like you were just running from something, and stood up to dust the dirt off your pants.

"Sebastian..I need to know something, and you need to be 100% honest with me."

The moment you pulled out his document, the shopkeeper could feel his heart sink.

"Wh..What did you want to know?" He asked, already bracing himself for the worst.

You sounded dead serious, and he was convinced you were finally going to let him have it.

You were going to force him to explain himself and his actions, and tell him what a monster he truly was. Literally and metaphoric-

"Its it true that you have mantis shrimp DNA????"

Silence.

Of all the possible outbursts he expected from you, that certainly didn't cross his mind.

Sebastian just stared down at you, utterly dumbfounded. He blinked several times, unsure if he was truly seeing the wide smile and starry-eyed look on your face.

He had been waiting for a deep scowl, eyes full of anger and betrayal and sadness that he wasn't the "friend" he claimed himself to be when you first visited his shop.

Yet now? He saw nothing but pure delight in your expression.

"Um..yes. But of alllll the things you read about me, that shocked you the most?" He was still treading carefully.

"Well, it sucks that you were an innocent guy who got thrown into a shitty situation." You gestured to him, frowning a little. "And I'm sorry you never saw justice, but...it's just SO cool that you're part mantis shrimp!" A grin returned to your face. "They've fascinated me for years! I used to watch videos of them all the time. Did you know the velocity of just one of their punches is equal to a .22 caliber bullet-?"

"Stop." He put a hand up, huffing. "At least some part of you must resent me. I mean...helloooooo, did you skip over the bit where I'M the reason those monsters are after you?! There's no way you could've ignored that..unless your brain turned off the moment you read "mantis shrimp"."

"I read everything, Sebastian." You huffed back. "Look, if I ever had to go through what you did..I think I'd wanna rebel, too. And as much as those monsters scare me, they've probably endured the same experiments as you. They probably felt just as trapped and afraid. You must see at least a few of them as your friends, right?"

"Eyefestation and the PAInter are the only ones I consider "acquaintances"." He answered after a long pause, shoulders slumped. "The anglers are primitive, but they recognize me as the one who freed them, so they don't bother me or my shop. The only creature that tends to be an issue is-"

-thump-

-thump-

Tensing, you looked over your shoulder to see a Wall Dweller emerge from the vent behind you, its mouth split open and drooling with hunger, standing on two legs.

"-that." Sebastian glared at the creature; and before it could run away, he blocked the entrance with his tail fin. "Oh no you don't." He swooped over to grab ahold of its head with his third hand, causing it to shriek and kick its legs as he held it up high. "You seriously need to stop eating my customers when they're trying to BUY SOMETHING!!"

The Dweller just growled at him, to which he ignored it and glanced down at you. "What should I do with this thing?"

"Punch it!" You grinned, your fists balled up in front of you as you hopped up and down. "I wanna see how fast you could throw one!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Pleeeeaaase?"

"..ugh, if it gets that stupid puppy-eyed look off your face, fine." He looked back at the Dweller, grinning widely as he cracked his knuckles. "You wanna eat something so bad? Try this."

"....grahh-?"

In a blinding flash, his fist went through the creature's skull, effectively turning its head into dust. Then he dropped the whole body onto the ground with a grimance. "Eugh..never done that before.."

Then he looked down at you again, seeing your smile brighten. "Hope that made you happy."

"It did, that was amazing!" You laughed, kneeling down to rip off a chunk of the Dweller's flesh. He eyed you strangely, his expression changing to a look of horror as you shoved a piece in your mouth.

"What the f...why would you eat that?!"

"It's okay! I've had this stuff before." You swallowed, feeling rejuvenated already.

"B....Before?! What you're eating is clay and acid-"

"Actually, it's fresh meat. Reminds me of poultry, almost. I found a document somewhere saying that it has regenerative properties." You explained to Sebastian, whose eyes only widened the more you talked. "I didn't believe it at first until I saw the Angler kill one. I was hungry and...eating it healed my electrical burn somehow."

".......why was that not in its actual document?" He muttered.

You shrugged, ripping out another piece and offering it to him. "Care for a bite?"

"I'll..pass. But thanks." Lowering his body closer to you, he frowned. "Are you absolutely sure that-?"

"I'm sure."

"..you didn't even know what I was going to-"

"You were worried about my reaction to your file. I could tell from the discount signs and how you were scared to even look at me."

"............."

"But I promise it doesn't change anything, okay? We're still friends, Sebastian, and I'll still swing by to do business with you." You reassured him, smiling as you patted the back of his hand, before noticing the bandage on his third arm seemed bloody. "Um..when's the last time you changed that?"

"...oh this? Erm..it's fine." He attempted to hide it behind his back. "Nothing you should be concerned abou-"

"Too late. It's my concern now. Let me repay you for saving my tail."

He had no time to protest, as you were already on your feet and running for the medkit that was on the table. You weren't worried about getting to the next zone right now.

Not that Sebastian planned on kicking you out anytime soon.

No.

Now that he was able to confide in you, he was genuinely beginning to enjoy your company--especially as you asked him to rest his arm across your lap. From there, your gentle hands went to work changing the bandage out for a fresh one, using an alcohol spray to keep the wounds from getting infected.

He hissed and cursed a few times at the stinging pain, but not once did he try to get you to stop.

Suddenly, it all began to hit him in this exact moment.

You were willingly playing nurse to a giant sea monster that has killed a man and was responsible for the terrifying things you had to witness down here.

He couldn't understand..but at the same time he felt relieved that all along he had nothing to worry about.

"Th-That's fine..thank you.."

Hearing a sniffle, you glanced up as Sebastian hastily took his arm away, "standing" back up and turning away from you. You just smiled and patted his tail comfortingly, not saying a word as you waited for him to collect himself.

For once, that snarky and sarcastic fish you've come to know was gone, and he was letting his walls down, finally realizing he could trust you.

Eventually he fell silent, and you wondered what to do now. You bought everything you wanted to earlier, so you didn't wanna overstay your welcome-

"Do you mind staying for a little bit longer?"

The question surprised you, but you smiled and nodded. "Sure. As long as you don't mind, shrimpy."

There was a pause, and he slowly looked back at you, pouting. "Big talk coming from someone as tiny as you, friend." He playfully sneered.

You just laughed and shook your head, glad to see him in better spirits.

Thanks to that scrambler on his back, you didn't have to worry about HQ getting on your ass about continuing the mission or threatening detonation.

You could definitely stay awhile and ramble about more mantis shrimp facts to Sebastian...if he was willing to hear them, of course.

[devoutekuna]

Playing with their child

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

"Your so stupid!" Shouting at the little girl. "No, you are" retailing at the man, he pair of them were trying to roast marshmallows on the campfire they recently created, though it wasn't going as well as she wanted, normally you'd never let her near an open flame especially despite her father being able to make flames. "Shut up, you take after your mother" refusing to acknowledge that his daughter wasn't the brightest. "Leave mummy alone!" Threatening him with the burnt marshmallow. "Do it then!" He knew she wouldn't do it, she valued her life too much despite knowing that he'd never kill his only offspring.

Nanami-

"That'll be £30" sat, scanning the fake barcode on the bowl of soup. "But I made it, so why can't I get it for free?" Normally he'd never create a fuss with her absurd prices but recently he wasn't having it, she started to charge him the average of £20 for a bag of chips, and most of the time they were half eaten. "No, I made it" taking the bowl out of his hands. "You only added the spoon!" He had to teach her about real life and how stupid this was. "Do you want the food or not!?" Grabbing the spoon as she stored it around as if she was going to eat it. Sighing in defeat, he was hungry and tired from work so he just wanted to eat something. "Here" handing her a £30. "That'll be an extra £10 because of the shouting fee"

Geto-

You couldn't understand why his daughter was so obsessed with tea, maybe because he drank it most days but that still wasn't enough. "Here you go" pouring him a glass of 'tea' it looked a little clear to be the tea he liked, and it was proven as he took a sip. "This isn't tea baby" shaking her head in response as she picked up her own cup. "No, it is tea" unable to hide her smile as she drank the real tea, she had switched the cups so that she got the special drink whilst he only got the water. "But it's okay because you can have a biscuit" handing him the last biscuit on the table. "But I want the tea?" Cocking his head to the side. "It for me" smiling at him as she gulped it down.

Gojo-

"Ow" looking down at the battery powered vehicle which kept ramming into his ankle. "Beep beep!" Honking the horn at him, he didn't understand why his son couldn't just drive around him, they were in the open. "Go around" "NO! Your blocking my road" noticing the small toys aligned up in the shape of a racecourse. "What road!?" "This road!" Running over the man's foot "Ow!" They argued like siblings rather than father and son, kicking over the boy's car with a reflex. "MUMMY!"

Toji-

"Give me the money" motioning for her to put it in his hand. "No, you owe me 25!" Crossing her arms as she laid down, she wasn't willing to give up the £5 she got from the bank, it was stupid really as she was just being petty. "That was last week!" The three of you were currently playing monopoly, it never ended well so you didn't understand why you kept doing it, they always argued about the money which normally lasted around 5 minutes. "You owe me 25!" Screaming at the poor man, literally. "I'll pay you back when you give me the money!" That's what he always said you weren't surprised he was in debt before you two got married.

[gomu-fer]

Turmoil

Law x gn reader

Warnings: little fight between Law and reader but nothing crazy, sfw and fluff at the end, good ending, FEELINGS

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: In which you save Law’s life and he gets mad at you

Masterlist

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

The moonlight danced with the dark sea water, accompanying you in your office as your eyes struggled to stay focus on the paper work in front of you, it was hard to tell the time when you lived in a submarine, but your body knows its well past 2 am, begging for you to snuggle into bed and drift away

From the shadows behind your door emerged your Captain, looking as tired as you did, a brow arching in confusion

“What are you doing?” His low raspy tone makes you jump on your seat as your eyes open wide in his direction, before they roll in annoyance and your eyebrows furrow

“Doing the work that YOU assigned me, Captain” the tone of your answer lets Law know that you’re still mad at him

“Should’ve thought better before-“ suddenly, and surprisingly you interrupt his so re-used speech he had given you a million times over since that evening

“Oh give me a break!” You trow your pen on the table, slamming your hands before gifting him the nastiest look he had ever witness painted on your face

Some days ago, the Heart Pirates found themselves in yet another fight were things weren’t going well for their Captain. You were the crews strategists and whenever you were caught in situations like these you were always by Laws side, but this time he had made you promise to stay out of trouble for this one, which in all honesty had struck your pride. Everyone knew how relentless of a fighter you were, that’s why you had gained such a position in the crew, so being told to back up was like a punch in the stomach, specially coming from your trusted Captain

Trafalgar Law was a stubborn, stubborn man, and that sometimes got him in more trouble that he could handle, as the enemies arrow flew trough his direction and a sword was drawn to his heart, in a blink of an eye you jumped in to protect him, without a second thought

Nothing bad had happened to you, you had came out victorious with a couple of scars nothing out of the ordinary, so when you were met with Laws angry eyes, a long speech on why what you had done was absolutely stupid and a punishment, you were left puzzled, and humiliated in front of all of your crew mates

Since then, you had been locked in your office, getting the extra work the doctor had assigned you so that ‘you learn how to listen’ done, and avoiding any words and looks of his

“I saved you” you got up of your chair as you walked towards the frame of your Captain, he may tower over you, but that would not stop you

“You put your life on the line y/n-ya, that I don’t tolerate” he answers you with a stern voice, eyes examining your every expression

“I did what I did because I wanted to, you may be the one giving orders around here, but you do not get dictate when or how I die”

As you get closer, Trafalgar cannot help but start to feel that maybe he was being selfish, after all, you had given him the greatest of gifts

Knowing there’s someone out there that is willing to die for you, no questions asked

But at the same time, the mere thought of losing you because he couldn’t be up to the task of protecting you boiled his blood and made his stomach turn a million times over

“Then maybe, you shouldn’t have joined my crew in the first place” he blurts out, every single word hitting you like a venomous snake bite, your heart clenching at the thought of being unwanted

Your greatest fear

Suddenly your body language does a 180, your anger being replaced with what could only be perfectly described as heartache. Almost immediately the doctor regrets even stepping foot in your office, before he can say anything you’re already back on your seat

“Sorry Captain” the pain in both your voice and your face makes Law hurt, and panic, and regret, yet words fail to come out of his mouth… just when he needed them most

“Don’t stay up too late” is all he can say before closing the door behind him

Next days in the Polar Tang were a pain, Law had been quite more irritable around everyone, even snapping on poor Bepo. You were either locked away working or in your room and sometimes even skipping dinner just to not cross paths with the damn surgeon, and if you were unlucky enough to do so, you would turn away immediately

Everyone knew something was up between the two of you, Ikkaku and Penguin had showed up at your office asking if everything was ok. You decided to keep it to yourself, you knew if Law found out you’re talking about him behind his back, about personal matters? Yeah, you would be dead to him, and even when mad, you respected him

Shachi was send to dig around Law, but when your name crossed his lips the doctor immediately shot down the conversation, this confirming their suspicions

But then, you finished the damn paper work, and guess who was the one you needed to hand it to?

You tried to convince anyone else to deliver the papers to Laws office, but it seemed like everyone had catch up and found this as an opportunity for you to make up with him, frustrating you beyond comprehension. They had even got to Bepo first

“Sorry y/n, I was told to tell you to deliver it yourself” he offered you a sympathetic smile, afraid of your answer, you just sighed defeated and thanked him anyways

“Just go in and hand him the papers! That easy” Ikkakus voice rings in your head as you try to wash your nervousness away in front of Laws office. Hesitantly you knock on the door, feeling lightheaded at the mere touch of it

“Go away Shachi” the doctors muffled voice meets your ears, confused you answer with the tiniest “It’s me, Captain” After a pause that felt like it lasted a decade, thinking he may had shambles himself out of the office, you hear a “Come in” so you do

You enter the office slowly, almost as if you made any sudden moves you’ll get caught like a pray in the wild. Trafalgar is sitting at his desk, his hands fidgeting and eyes following your form

“I have the paper work you asked for” you stay pretty far away from the desk, fear written all over you making Law feel twice as worse as he had been feeling this past few days

“Thank you y/n-ya, just leave them here” his voice sounded softer, but this didn’t made you feel any less scared as you approached the desk, gaze fixated on the papers in your hand. As you positioned your hard wok on the desk Law makes the uncharacteristic decision to hold your wrist before you retrieved, a shock running through your whole body at the action

Law’s heart beats a million times per second as he finds the right words to approach the matter, maybe he should’ve thought about them before taking your hand, your soft skin touching his freezing him. You lock eyes for a second and finally Law understands everything he had done wrong, from being ungrateful, rude, harsh and just overall mistreating the person he cares for the most

He would rather being shot than admit he was in the wrong, but he knew if he didn’t he’ll lose you, which was the reason he had caused this mess in the first place, so he swallows his pride

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed at you in front of everyone, or made you do all this work and… saying those awful things”

The fear washes from your body as you hear his apology, something you never thought you’d witness in your life, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding since you stepped foot on the door, offering Law a genuine smile that made his heart fall to his feet

“It’s ok Captain”

“Law” he says, letting your hand go as his own insecurities disappear, thinking you were gonna bash at him after his apology

“Law” you parrot back, earning him another sweet smile of yours

“I just… didn’t wanted to lose you, I was so lost in that thought that I didn’t realize that’s exactly what I was doing” you had seemed to have pushed a button because he just couldn’t stop the thoughts that just fell directly to his tongue and overflow like a cascade out of his mouth

Laws eyes open wide as he sees you approach the other side of the desk, your arms wrap around his wide shoulders like the softest blanket, hugging him while he still sits on the chair, your head resting in top of his hat. The surgeon stays completely still, taken aback

“Thank you for apologizing Law, I really appreciate it” you whisper making his face bright red and his hands shake, the way your body weights over his makes his brain malfunction and his heart go wild

You let go and approach the door of the office, Law remaining completely broken and flushed in his seat

“See ya’ at dinner.. Law” you say his name mischievously, giggling after before you disappear

The Captain stays still for a while, alone in his office, thinking about everything being open about his thoughts and feelings had gained him, and how addicting his name sounded falling from your sweet lips

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

This came to me in a dream and wrote it in almost one sitting lmao, feel free to request anything you wanna read I am having so much fun writing his emo ass

Reblogs are appreciated ;)

[fairykazu]

kazuha's message: hey (with rizz) masterlist ++ wc: 1.3k this reads off like a dork diaries book nvm, i reread it. it's corny but it's fun! ++ part two

the arcade was a place that kazuha vowed to never ever visit again and no one ever knew why. anytime his friends– or anyone really, wanted to go to the arcade, they had to make sure the arcade had other activities to do because no matter how hard they tried, kazuha refused to even put a foot near a machine or step on the shape patterned carpet. even the carpet gave the poor guy ptsd. 

well, that was until you came into the picture. kazuha has been pining over you since freshman year had started and the both of you are now seniors? the struggle between his neverending grudge against arcades and his limitless love for you to a point his feelings for you bled into his creative works. god, to get this straight, kazuha still despises the arcade, in fact, if you never mentioned you liked it, he wouldn’t have even mentioned he was an absolute monster at the first-person shooting games that he never learned the name of– just calling it, “my game”...

 or he could just play space invaders. 

to put it simply, he doesn’t know how the infatuation or the c-word (crush) really started. it just blossomed in his heart one day and he ached ever since. well, he did remember that he admired you for your ambitious nature which contradicts soft actions whenever you scold your friends for their reckless behavior. the more he thought of you, the more he desperately wanted to be your friend and maybe, something more.

like knowing the real you who doesn’t have to hide your smile when you laugh! or hell, he just needs to be your friend to forget the scenarios he made up of happening if he did ask. of course, none of it would really happen. but imagine if he asked, you laughed in his face and pointed at him, then he digs a hole, crawls into it and dies. then he didn’t really die but he woke up to you throwing dirt in his face and then he really dies. but not because of being suffocated by dirt, but because he died of pure EMBARRASSMENT. 

or what if you’re like “you’re a freak, kaedehara!” and he would never live it down. he’d be called “freakster kazuha” or “freakdehara!” down the halls while he shoved his face into his hands and cry. well, of course, you aren’t mean. what if you accept being friends– wait why does this scenario sound good? 

BUT !!! 

there it is, the big old “but” stopping kazuha to ever build up the courage to be friends. wait, why do all these endings sound really bad? 

kazuha slapped his face, trying to fight against his anxiety that is willing to drown him in insecurities. he will ask you out… 

to be friends! 

***

it took him a while, embarrassingly to admit. 

there’s a specific memory that he keeps reminding himself of and he trips over it all the time. (he actually trips !!  it’s terrible to be him but at least it’s funny to watch!) 

 it was a monday morning. it could’ve been a tuesday but he was extra tired so it was definitely a monday. he was sleep deprived because he was spending the evening pulling an all-nighter, being studious– 

but ! 

he was also sneaking in a game session with his friends… at three am. it was evident with the way he slumped through the halls, ignoring the stares thrown his way, and how his eyes were weight down, nearly drooping back to sleep.

it was as if heaven heard his call. cue the heaven gates’ tune (. an angel flew through the halls– it was you, you beamed him with motivation. his slouching, some might say terrible posture, immediately straightened, his eyes widenended and his breath…

“heizou, heizou… how’s my breath?” kazuha exhaled and heizou’s face scrunched up as if it was rotten and sour. how terrible! 

the brunette took a step back from kazuha, holding his nose. “it stinks, kazuha. did you even brush your teeth?” 

it … 

stinks (O_o) ?! 

heizou stifled a laugh while the silver haired male’s face dropped. oh god, kazuha could imagine it now, what if he asks to hang out, when you were going to accept but you see the obvious, green fumes coming out of his mouth. before you could say anything, then he killed you with his stank breath!

alert!!!

…where’s the breath spray??? 

IT’S AN EMERGENCY! STAT!!!  

 “give me your mint spray!!” kazuha protested, already yanking heizou’s bag off his shoulder.

heizou dug through his bag, handing kazuha the spray. before giving it to him, he joked, “are you finally rizzing them up?” kazuha frowned, 

“... give me the spray. do i smell good? do i look good?” he took the spray and quickly sprayed it in his mouth. he coughed as heizou analyzed him, supposedly. 

“kind of, yeah i guess. oh and they’re walking away.” 

“NOOOOOOO.” is what kazuha wouldve said if you weren’t actually walking towards him. really? god has answered his prayers. thank you barbatos, thank you morax, thank you baal, thank you focalor- 

“hey, kaedehara!” 

“hey beautiful. i mean, the sky is pretty beautiful… and good morning, [name]. ” kazuha cleared his throat, stumbling over his words. it was like the devil took over with the way almost a good amount of his friends saw him pull off the biggest fumble of the century. xinyan patted him on the back, whispering in his ear, “good save.” 

scaramouche quipped back, “it’s cloudy. they definitely heard that.” 

“you’re silly today but you’re actually in the way of my locker.” 

it was a win but at what cost… 

***

“silly isn’t a compliment, kazuha. maybe they were trying to call you crazy politely,” scaramouche said, picking at the lunch food. jeez, it’s like the school is trying to kill people with soggy cheese pockets. 

xinyan defended kazuha as he curled into a ball so he could roll out of teyvat. “but like scaramouche, [name] does say silly alot.” 

“who do they say it to mostly?” 

“... that doesn’t matter!!! because kazuha has game!” 

“last night?” 

“that doesn’t count. it was four am, he was having an all-nighter before the games– it was ap bio and ap lit!!!” 

xinyan, please admit you’re losing. it’s so over… 

besides, scaramouche countered with the fact he took five aps and he managed to win the rounds over and over. 

what a show off.

*** 

he shook his head, trying to dismiss what he did. he can’t because it was last week. 

when he actually managed the courage to ask to be friends, he casually leaned on his locker and waited for you to come to him like the total cool guy he is… 

as the blossoms suddenly surround you both, you fawn over him and then while you almost trip, he catches you and you swoon. “hey [name], heh,” he said in a deep, totally-charming-hunk of a voice. “want to be friends?” 

you giggle in response, twirling your hair, until you accidentally slipped on a banana that somehow ended up there. a push of confidence overtakes him as if it was a gust of wind, he caught you with grace. your whole face flushed as you bashfully smiled and thanked him profusely. he just basked in the praise and attention you gave him like a proud, not at all needy, dog. 

that is what kazuha wants to believe happened. but out of his dreamscape and into reality, you were the one who asked him to hang out and he jumped at the chance. like really, he was desperate from anyone else’s point of view he looked like a pitiful dog. “hey kadehara?” you asked, immediately kazuha pretending last week was a dream but he stepped aside. “oh no! hey, wanna hang out with my friends and i? it would be fun, right?” 

kazuha’s face dropped, he wasn’t the best at hiding his expression when it came to you.“yes! ahem, i mean, yeah, sure. what’s your ig?”

“143[name]! see you saturday?” 

“you can count on it. oh, someone’s calling me.” no sound from his phone nor a vibration.

(he squealed and danced in the courtyard. scaramouche has it recorded.) 

[runnning-outof-time]

Another little request, please don't mind the spam if you don't feel inspired c: <3 "I didn't get your name" + Arthur please!

Thanks so much for sending some extra Arthur in, Shark @call-sign-shark ! I greatly appreciate it! I know I said it before, but it was fun to end this celebration off by showing some love to him…and I wouldn’t be writing for Arthur Shelby if I didn’t add some of his violent self into one of these stories. That’s where I went with this one…trust me, it makes sense…….I think. I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)

Oh and this is the last blurb of this celebration! Thank you to all who read these!! I can’t believe I’ve finally finished writing them!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

What A Way to Meet Your Boss

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, series typical violence, use of derogatory name

Word Count: around 1k (I’m too lazy to find the count)

Summary: (Y/N) meets one of her bosses in a rather…unconventional way. Or maybe it’s very conventional considering the company she works for.

(Y/N) had just finished her tasks for the evening. She made sure that all of her materials were put in places where she could quickly find them tomorrow before grabbing her coat and purse. She exited the Shelby Company Limited building then, ready to get home and relax.

But of course, Birmingham had different plans for her.

“Women as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking alone at night,” a man’s voice came from the darkness of the alleyway she’d just passed. (Y/N) willed her feet to keep walking, knowing that things would turn bad if she stopped and entertained this man. Maybe he’d give up.

But it didn’t pan out that way.

Shoes then scuffed on the concrete as his quick steps were heard behind her. “I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, bitch,” he sneered. (Y/N) quickened her pace. “Fuckin’ get back here!” His angered words were accompanied by a rough hand, and (Y/N) was left defenceless as the man effortlessly pulled her back and into his grips. Her eyes widened as the man’s forearm came into contact with her throat. “Gonna make you pay for ignoring me,” he seethed, his mouth right against her ear. “How about you make it easy for yourself?”

The man couldn’t follow through on what he was going to do because the next thing he knew, he was getting the wind knocked out of him; his arms falling slack from (Y/N)’s frame. She didn’t even stop to look and see what had happened, instead moving as fast as she could to get away from the altercation just as it sounded like someone started to deliver a barrage of punches onto her assailant.

It didn’t take (Y/N) long to notice that there wasn’t even much of a fight when she did finally turn around. The man who had his arm wrapped around her neck seconds ago was now curled into a ball on the ground as he tried to stop the madman that had come to her rescue. Even she flinched as the second man landed one more vicious punch before standing tall over the beaten man.

“Please, please…please be done,” the man pleaded, his voice and body shaking.

“You should know better than to fuck with the Peaky Blinders,” the man standing above him bellowed, his voice one that (Y/N) was familiar with, but couldn’t quite put the name to.

“I…I didn’t know that she was a Peaky woman, Mr. Shelby,” the man made an excuse, still pleading for his life. He couldn’t tell if the animal of a man standing above him was finished or not. Hell, he should have known better than to choose to hang around this part of town. Who would have known there would have been a Shelby in the area though, let alone the worst out there all?

“Peaky woman or not, you lay another fucking finger on any woman and I’ll fucking cut them off. You understand me?” the Shelby man threatened.

“Yes, yes,” the man on the ground was nodding his head profusely within seconds of hearing the other’s threats…which should really be considered promises.

“Now get the fuck outta here before I decide to do it now.” That was all the man needed to hear to scramble to his feet and hurry away from the area. It was evident in his limp that he’d been beaten pretty badly, but that didn’t stop him from running as fast as he could. The man left behind couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched him leave. When he’d finally turned a corner and was out of sight, the man turned to (Y/N). “You alright?” he asked, making his way over to her then.

“Yeah,” she answered with an exhaled breath. “You came before he could do anything. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he brushed her gratitude off, shaking his head slightly. His peaked cap had been returned to his head and was now pulled down, shielding his eyes from her, but she couldn’t miss his prominent mustache. “I could walk you home if you want,” he offered.

“I live a block away,” she answered, a polite smile present on her face.

“Safe travels,” he nodded to her, starting to turn back towards the company building the she’d just left.

“I didn’t get your name,” she quickly called after him, the words leaving her mouth before she could think better of them. She knew he was a Shelby man, but she didn’t know which Shelby man he was.

Her voice made the man stop and turn back to face her. “Arthur Shelby,” he answered simply, lifting his head enough for her to catch a glimpse his full features as they were illuminated by the streetlight.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” she thanked him again, sending a grateful smile his way.

“Happy to have ya workin’ for us, love,” he said, sending a closed mouth smile her way before turning again so that he could walk back to the building she’d left a short while ago.

(Y/N) watched him enter the building before she turned and hurried the rest of her way home. She let out a sigh of relief once she was behind her locked door. What a way to meet your boss, she thought to herself, shaking her head as she headed to her bedroom. What a way indeed.

*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

[its-time-to-write]

Hi!! I hope you’re well !! Thank you so much for keeping the Jaimie Tartt community well fed like I will forever be in your debt you’re amazing‼️‼️ My humble request is in honor of SNTV:) My favorite songs are Enchanted and Sparks Fly so maybe a complicated angsty start up to a fluffy love confession (like they just haven’t gotten the timing right until now or they were friends and then something happens to her). IDK anyway sorry for the word vomit and thank you bunches for all your hard work!!

I loved this request!! Also sorry, all my fics seem to be ending the same way this days😬 But we keep getting to the ending in new and exciting ways so hopefully no one cares! Enjoy!

wonderstruck

You knew the moment you met Keeley Jones that your friendship was going to be a wild ride. You were still in uni, and had picked up a one-off job as one extra on a commercial shoot. The pay wasn’t bad (hey, it was extra money) and you were willing to sacrifice a Saturday for it. Keeley was one of the frontrunners for the commercial, all big hair and wild makeup. You had bumped into her by chance at the food table, started talking, and the rest was history. One random job turned into a solid four years of friendship. It was a funny dynamic between you and Keeley, because she was both older sister and antagonizer. She liked to pull you out of your comfort zone, taking you to clubs, parties, events, whatever as her plus one. Well, until she started dating a prick footballer named Jamie Tartt.

You didn’t meet him while they were together. You’d already known Keeley for two and a half years at that point, and understood she had shit taste in men. You weren’t afraid to tell her that to her face and she’d just laugh and say, “I know babes, but it’s right fun, innit?”

You’d laugh and shake your head, then go back to carefully painting her nails in the brightest, sparkliest colors imaginable.

Keeley was really, really good for you.

She called you the night she broke up with Jamie, and you came over to her house with a giant bottle of champagne only to find her and another woman, a Rebecca Welton, already proper tipsy and giggling on the floor. They were still dolled up from that night’s benefit while you were in pajamas, but you didn’t let that stop you. You downed half a bottle while Keeley and Rebecca cheered. You were glad Keeley had dumped that awful, cheating, self-absorbed prick. She deserved so much better.

You were glad when she started dating Roy Kent. He was a lot more down-to-earth than she was, and they were a good balance for each other. You wondered if Keeley gravitated toward those of a more serious nature in the same way you were drawn to those who were more spontaneous.

Post-uni, you had started your own business. It was kind of a random venture, something you had begun for a friend, but then it took off. You made the most outrageous, eccentric day-to-day dresses, taking a simple pattern then transforming it with wild patterns, tulle, and the occasional sparkle. Keeley, angel that she was, modeled some of them and put them on her instagram. And just like that, you were selling out. 

It was absolutely insane, but you were able to spend the week making two dresses and then turn over a nice profit. You felt like you were overcharging but Keeley said, “Babe, if you’re selling out, you might be undercharging.”

All that to say, life with Keeley Jones as your friend was absolutely magical. You’d do anything for her. Including going to a fucking benefit as her plus one.

—

“Why can’t you just take Roy?”

“Roy’s already got his own invite. He’s a coach, so he has to be there even though he’s going to fucking hate it.” Keeley laughs. She thinks Roy’s grumpiness is endearing.

“Alright, why’d you get a plus one then? It doesn’t make sense, Keels,” you counter.

Keeley refuses to meet your eyes. “It’s entirely possible that Rebecca gave me one so that you’d come.”

“Keeleyyy,” you groan.

She shoves your shoulder playfully. “She knew if she sent you a direct invite you wouldn’t go, and she said she’d let us meet up at her house to get ready together! C’mon babes, it’s going to be so much fun and we’ll look sooo fucking fit walking the red carpet together, yeah?”

She gives you her widest puppy-dog eyes, lower lip pushing out. You sigh.

“Fucking fine. Fine. But you’re coming with me to pick out a dress. And you’re buying my coffee.”

Keeley cheers and tackles you in a hug. “You won’t regret it, I swear. Worst case you can just bitch about it with Roy the next day.” You laugh. You and Roy bitch about a lot of things together.

—

The red carpet is absolutely terrifying. It’s louder than you would have thought and the flashes from the camera are giving you a headache. 

“How the hell do you do this?” you ask Keeley through a smile. 

She laughs for the cameras. “Loads of practice, babe,” she replies in a perfect pose. “Now look at me and laugh at something I said.”

You’re almost done and the paps are asking for a photo of Keeley and Roy, so you wait off to the side near the entrance for them. You crane your neck to try to find Rebecca, to no avail. You do however catch the eye of someone with a very nice fashion sense and very, very blue eyes. He gives you a once-over and grins. You blush and turn back to Keeley and Roy who have finished and are making their way over to you. Keeley grabs your hand and says, “Hi Jamie!” while Roy rolls his eyes. Jamie says, “Hey Keeley,” and nods to Roy. “Grandad.”

“Fuck you,” Roy replies, and you’re surprised at the borderline affectionate tone he’s using. Especially considering Jamie is Keeley’s ex. He’s not really what you would have expected, but you don’t have time to dwell on that because Keeley’s dragging you inside the benefit venue.

—

Jamie is sitting at the same table as you. 

Correction: he’s sitting right fucking next to you and it’s all you can do to avoid eye contact with him. You had introduced yourself to him with a barely suppressed grimace and steeled yourself for a long, misogyny-filled night. 

You were so tense that Keeley put her hand on your knee and said, “I’ve got to go reapply my lipliner, d’you want to come with?”

You got up and followed her, feeling far too exposed in your backless, purple-sequined dress. 

“Alright babe, what gives?” she asks once you’ve made it to the bathroom. “You’re wound up so tight I could stick coal up your ass and get a diamond.”

That makes you crack a smile and you shrug. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Keeley shakes her head. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, I’ve had four years of practice knowing exactly when you’re telling me a fib.”

“Who’s fibbing?” Rebecca says, walking in the door. “I saw Keeley drag you in here, and I didn’t want to miss out on some girl talk.”

“Oh thank god you’re here,” you say, relieved. “I’ve been looking for you for the past hour and couldn’t find you.”

Rebecca self-consciously smooths her hair. “I’ve been- busy,” she says. “But this isn’t about me. What are you fibbing about?”

You look between Rebecca and Keeley then deflate. “I have to sit next to Jamie Tartt.”

Keeley and Rebecca share a look. “I don’t see what that’s such a bad thing,” Rebecca says.

You look at her in disbelief. “Jamie Tartt? The biggest prick in all of London, and quite possibly all of England? Cheated on Keeley multiple times and all-around arsehole?”

Keeley grimaces. “Yeah, not one of his finer points in life.”

“See?” you say. “He’s the fucking worst!” Rebecca and Keeley share another look.

“Stop fucking doing that,” you say. “What?”

“Darling,” Rebecca says gently, “he’s changed.”

You’re not buying it, a sentiment that is evident in your expression.

“It’s true, babes,” Keeley affirms. “And look, I’d probably be the fucking last person to say it. But he has! He’s loads better than he used to be, an absolute sweetheart. Even Roy loves him.”

You snort.

“Okay, maybe love is a strong word,” Keeley amends. “But he likes him! Roy said Jamie’s the best player on the team, and possibly one of the best in the country!”

You’re still not buying it. 

“Listen,” Rebecca says. “Give him one hour free of bias. Forget who he was and give him a chance. You might be surprised.”

You look to Keeley, unsure. It is her ex, after all.

To your surprise, she’s smiling and nodding. “Go for it,” she says. “You never know what could happen.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you laugh. Only Keeley Jones could try to pawn her ex off on her best friend with the confident assurance that he’s a better man now. You know she’s not lying, or at least she believes Jamie’s changed. You’re not sure what to believe, but you’ll take Rebecca’s advice and give Jamie one hour to change your mind.

—

You’re not in your seat two seconds before Jamie starts talking to you.

“Why d’you look so nervous love? I don’t bite.” He grins. “Much.”

You catch yourself before you grimace and instead say, “This whole thing isn’t really my scene. It’s a lot of people I don’t know, and I’m only here ‘cause Keels asked me to be her plus one.”

Jamie still has that obnoxious grin on his face. “What does Roy think about you stealing his girlfriend? Can’t imagine he’d take it lying down.”

You glance over at Keeley and Roy. His arm is around the back of her chair and she’s leaning into him ever so slightly. 

You say, “I’ve been here longer than he has, so if anyone’s stolen her, it’s him,” and you watch the pieces click into place in Jamie’s head.

“Shit,” he says. “You’re the best friend. Shoulda known when you told me your name.”

You shrug.

“Makes sense,” he continues. “I wondered why you weren’t fuckin’ beside yourself to be sitting by the fittest bloke in the room.”

You roll your eyes, hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

He pulls his chair a little closer and looks at you again with those perfect blue eyes. “Seriously, I am sorry. I was a prick. It took Keeley breaking up with me for me to start gettin’ my head out of me arse.” Jamie’s words back up what Keeley and Rebecca told you. You’re not entirely ready to brush his past under the rug, but tell him that it seems like he did a right proper job of it, which makes him laugh.

“Do you really think you’re the fittest guy in here?” you ask.

Jamie gestures to the room. “Look around, babe. I ain’t lying.”

You laugh, and the tension dispels. You’ve 55 minutes to go, and then you can go back to hating him. For now, you’ll let him keep cracking jokes.

—

The hour is up, but you’re still talking to Jamie. You don’t stop to consider why he’s still talking to you (maybe because he can’t stand the idea of anyone hating him) but he is. It’s actually enjoyable, so when he asks you to accompany him to the dance floor, you look to Keeley for approval instead of outright rejecting him.

Keeley says, “Go on babe, I’m gonna try to convince this one to get out there for at least one dance,” and Roy says, “Fuck no.”

You let Jamie take your hand as he promises, “No funny business, I swear,” and you just laugh.

You laugh through three songs because Jamie has a way of making you giggle. He swings you around and executes all kinds of moves that you’re sure you could never replicate, but you assume that being a Premier League footballer means he’s got to be coordinated. Makes sense that he can dance.

The fourth song is a slow one, so you move to leave the dance floor but Jamie catches your hand.

“Stay,” he says. “I’m having a really great time with you.”

You feel Keeley kick the bottom of your shoe from where she’s swaying with her arms around Roy’s neck. 

It makes you stumble a little, just enough for Jamie to have to catch you. He grins. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

He puts your hands around his neck and his on your waist. It’s a soft touch, but you can feel sparks shooting up your hipbones.

You’re absolutely fucked.

Jamie doesn’t say a single thing, just sways along with the soft music and gazes into your eyes. You can’t look away no matter how hard you try. 

The song ends and you let go of Jamie. He slides a hand up you waist and down your arm, lifts your hand to his lips, and kisses your inner wrist. 

Before you can form a coherent thought, he’s gone.

Rebecca and Keeley are on you in a moment.

“You’re both coming to mine,” Rebecca says. “You have time to go home and get pajamas, but I’m getting out of here as soon as I can. I just made sure my pantry was restocked.”

—

It’s 2am. Rebecca and Keeley have successfully gotten you to admit that you like Jamie. 

Against all odds, you like him.

Fuck.

“You’re sure it’s not weird?” you ask Keeley as you pace around Rebecca’s bedroom.

“For the millionth time, babe,” she says, “I really don’t. I think you two would be fucking adorable together.”

Rebecca nods in agreement. “I’m on Keeley’s side on this one. Jamie used to be a right little shit, but he’s really turned it around. And could you please stop wearing a hole in my rug? It’s giving me anxiety.”

You abruptly stop and plop down on the bed. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if he was only trying to make me not hate him because I’m Keeley’s best friend?”

Rebecca makes an offended noise so you amend: “Sorry, one of Keeley’s best friends?”

“Listen,” Keeley says making her way to your spot on the end of the bed. She holds your arms. “I know Jamie. He was fucking interested. And he hasn’t been that way in a while. You should just fucking go for it.”

“I don’t know,” you say slowly. Rebecca and Keeley groan and flop back onto the bed.

“You’re absolutely hopeless,” Rebecca says, but it’s laced with affection. You grin.

“That’s why you love me.”

—

You don’t sleep. Keeley is sandwiched between you and Rebecca on Rebecca’s absolutely massive bed, and all you can think about is Jamie’s blue eyes and the sparks of electricity you felt wherever he touched you. 

You can still feel the kiss on your wrist.

—

It rains for three days and you refuse to go to Nelson Road. Keeley’s out sick anyway, and Rebecca is busy with work. You are too, working on a commission in electric blue. It’s very cozy inside your flat, soft music playing as the rain plinks on your roof. You’re wearing your good sweats, the ones that match and don’t have stains. Your hair is freshly clean and pulled back in a clip and there’s a pot of tea on the stove. 

Your heartbeat has not been normal since dancing with Jamie. It’s beating in an irregular pattern, horrendously out of sync with the calming sound of rain. You can’t get it to calm down so you decide to indulge and replay your entire interaction with Jamie, as a treat. 

You’re just thinking about his hands on your waist and letting your mind wander to where else you think they should go, when there’s a knock on the door. You frown.

That’s odd. Who on earth could be at your door at 7pm on a Monday in pouring rain? You pad across the living room to the door and open it to find a very wet Jamie.

“Hi,” he says, and then he’s pulling you onto the porch and kissing you in the pouring rain.

You’re soaked through to the bone, but you don’t care. All you can feel is Jamie’s hair as you run your fingers through and his lips on yours as they devour you. It’s straight out of a movie.

You shiver, and Jamie breaks away.

“Got your address from Keeley,” he says. “She’s the one who told me to come here. Can we go inside?”

You nod mutely and let him in. “Aren’t you cold?” you ask.

He just laughs. “Nah babe, I run hot. You look right fucking freezing, though. Good thing I’m here, I’ll help you warm right up.”

You’re really starting to shiver. “You should get out of those clothes,” you say through chattering teeth. 

“Could say the same about you,” Jamie replies. “Where’s your bedroom at?” 

You all but drag him up the stairs to your room. 

You think you’re going to kill Keeley for telling Jamie you liked him, but then you’re flat on your back, bare skin pressing into the duvet as Jamie Tartt presses hot kisses up your neck, and you forget all about her.

[thebluester2020]

I wonder how sdv bachelor's would react to you getting mad at them for forgetting your (relationship) anniversary?

Getting Upset At SDV + RSV Bachelors For Forgetting Your Anniversary (For the Umpteenth Time And You Decided To Leave Them For It)

Warning(s): Angst (Especially on Shane's part lol, I'm a hater), No happy endings, Reader goes in on Shane and Alex in their individual parts,

Side note(s): Ik you were probably expecting something decently light anon but I just remembered that I haven't ratted on Shane in a minute so I thought some good ol' fashioned angst was in store.

Also, I picked who I wrote angst for because I teared up thinking of writing angst for my favorite emo or writer. Still, though, I hope you like what I've written anon (and sorry it took so frickin' long 😔)

Shane | "Another Bottle"

You were so excited for tonight, you could hardly stand in place as you waited for Shane to get home!

Tonight would be your third year with Shane. A year that (in your mind) would symbolize the trials and tribulations the both of you had gone, as well as shared with one another. And for the last week or so, Shane had been talking almost non-stop about the plans he had for the both of you at the end of the week! He hinted at eating some fancy dinner cooked up by Gus at the Stardrop Saloon, and although he didn't mention it verbally, Shane had been spending a lot of time with Elliot lately.

The two had almost nothing in common so, butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought of the extra things your husband was preparing for you.

Shane had also mentioned taking a walk on the beach at the end, and once the night had concluded? A nice wine on the porch whilst listening to a playlist of you and his' favorite songs.

All of it was straight from a dream, a fairytale even that...admittedly, you thought would never happen. Especially since...he had forgotten your first anniversary, the second one too—but, you were nothing if not forgiving.

You had to be.

Your husband dealt with a lot. He had mental health issues as well as a drinking problem that he was still fighting to curb to this very moment! When you married him—nay, when you first started dating him. You knew that you would have to be patient and constantly show him that you were with him through thick and thin, come Hell or high water. You'd stand by Shane's side and walk with him through any troubles he may have faced or had roaming around in his head.

Therefore, that's why, as soon as the clock in your shared bedroom ticked to five o'clock. You practically burst out of your bedroom and out to the front porch to wait for Shane like an eager dog waiting for its owner to return home after a long day! In any minute, he'd walk through the small gates that led onto the farm's property...maybe with a bouquet of flowers? A tired expression at first perhaps? One that would immediately melt away at the sight of you like it always did...you couldn't wait to see for yourself.

Six O'Clock

You had decided to sit down on the steps of the porch, constantly standing in a pair of heels was bound to hurt your feet sometime or another as you continued to wait for Shane to go through those gates. He must've been held up at work, maybe spending a little extra time getting your date ready! Something.

Anything other than the thought your mind was threatening to settle on.

No, anything but that.

He was late but you were going to have patience, after all, all the best things in life were worth waiting for, right? You were willing to bet that he was going to appear at any moment now.

Eight O'Clock

You had lost the bet with yourself, that much was obvious as you quietly took off the outfit you had put together for tonight and debated whether you should simply take a shower and go to bed or if you should comfort yourself over a nice glass of wine. On one hand, you wanted the former, anything that would help you forget this night but...this time? You just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

This would be the third time that Shane had forgotten your anniversary. Last year, you had let him slide with his excuse that he was caught up at work, even though he worked at a grocery store and the place had a set time for when it closed! The second year, that time around, Shane had claimed that Jas suddenly wanted to spend time with him! You wouldn't have minded Jas tagging along for your anniversary date, she would have made it more lively, so that year as well, you let it slide.

This time though...as tears started to well up in your eyes and your chest tightened. You didn't know if you had it in you to let another anniversary slide.

And that's when you heard the front door open and close.

Even from the bedroom, the scent of alcohol was strong and all too familiar. The lazy movement of Shane's footsteps...the way he groaned and grumbled drunkenly in search of you.

He had forgotten your anniversary...all so he could get drunk?

You saw red. "Where were you?" You immediately questioned your husband when you rounded a corner and into the living room.

There he was, lying down on the couch with the stench of alcohol radiating off of him. You clenched your fists so hard at the sight, that you almost worried they'd bleed. "Out." Shane finally answered.

You could feel a vein threaten to poke out as he slurred his words.

"Out?" You said in exasperation.

"Yes, out."

"I thought you were trying to quit drinking," You stormed up closer to him. Shane barely even flinched, you were hoping he'd give you something, anything that said he had remembered your anniversary but was just too drunk and stupid to remember it. "Why—"

"I needed a break from work!" He grumbled. "Get off my back."

"But—" You took a breath. "Shane." You continued. "Our anniversary...you—you promised." When that word made its way out of your mouth, Shane could barely give you the decency to look embarrassed. To look ashamed that he would miss his only spouse's birthday. The one person who had stuck with him through everything, listened to him when he was at his lowest, had made sure he was at Dr. Harvey's in a heartbeat the second you noticed he was too drunk to even stand. You had even gone out of your way so many fucking times to make sure that you had did some things for him, anything that made his recovery easier and swifter.

And what could he do to thank you?

Easy, begin to fall asleep on the couch whilst he still smelled of alcohol. Even as tears started to burn your eyes, he still couldn't wake up for you.

So, you decided that was that.

You wouldn't go through this again for a fourth, fifth, or even sixth time in a row!

You were done.

"...I guess you were right before Shane," You said to his passed-out form.

"You are nothing but a drunk. And that's all you'll ever be." You continued with venom dripping from each word before you stormed off to your bedroom. Immediately, you tore open the closet before you practically ripped and tore his clothes from the hangers, snatching pants and everything else he owned from the drawers and other places he kept his things before you carried them all to the living room before dropping it at his feet.

Still, he barely moved an inch aside from snoring obnoxiously.

You wanted him gone first thing in the morning and you wouldn't hear another half-assed apology or even an excuse that he was "still healing" or "just had a momentary relapse". It was a fine fucking time to have a relapse on the day you were looking forward to for an entire week! And you absolutely hated him for it.

But...soon you'd have your peace back, free of any disappointments too.

Once he was up and gone tomorrow.

Alex | "High Ambitions"

Alex's gridball career had been going extremely well as of late.

You always knew that his efforts, the constant hard work he'd put into the sport, would pay off one day. You always told him that! You just wished that...it wasn't at the expense of you sometimes, compared to how he was when the two of you first started dating, Alex was gone almost all the time. From sun up to sun down, he'd either be training or taking a bus down to Zuzu city at the crack of dawn in order to train further with his coach!

You didn't have enough fingers to count how many times you woke up by yourself. The spot where Alex should have been cold and empty, but Alex had promised you that he wasn't letting his ambitions and his budding career get in the way of you two! He'd always come back and hug you, stating that you were the reason why he was playing in the first place and trying to make it big.

All so that he could fund and take care of the both of you, deliver you a lavish lifestyle that would allow you to have more time to do the things that you and he liked to do rather than most of your day being spent with farm work and running around! And while that was all fine...your current lifestyle, was something you enjoyed.

And you enjoyed it even more when you did it with Alex.

Yet you had bit your tongue and nodded your head, you were happy for him and wanted him to succeed! So long as he didn't forget about you, you were happy and content. Besides, you'd have all the time in the world to make up for lost time with him tonight! It was your anniversary and the second he got back from practice, you wouldn't hold back from being a little greedy with him.

At least...that was the plan.

Until two hours went by.

He was supposed to be home at 8 o'clock.

Now? It was just barely reaching 11:00pm. And as the minutes continued to tick by, your anger at your husband only grew. He promised you that he would be home on time, that he wouldn't let practice take over you being his number-one priority. Clearly, that was one huge lie. However, as you heard the rapid jingling of keys at the door all of a sudden...you couldn't even find it within yourself to make up an excuse for him like you had many times prior.

No, it was clear where his priorities were as of lately.

And you weren't a part of them in the slightest.

"Y/N!" Alex called out as soon as he entered the house, his eyes quickly finding you sitting on the couch. Back straight and eyes forward, you hadn't even reacted to the sound of your name aside from a brief glance over your shoulder.

Oh, he knew he was in trouble.

"Sorry," Alex said bashfully, flashing you a boyish smile that would always do just the trick of melting your heart a little in the past. "I got caught up with practice, I scored three touchdowns today!"

"Do you know what day it is today?"

His eyes widened a little, his mouth opening to ask you to clarify as he desperately racked his brain. Only then, did horror wash over his features the second he remembered. "Y/N...I'm so sorry-"

You suddenly stood up. "Don't bother," You said sharply with a sigh. "It's the third time you've missed our anniversary!" You laughed emptily.

"All for fucking gridball practice. The same thing you told me wouldn't get in between us."

He rolled his eyes. "You know this is the one thing I've been working towards my entire life." Your husband huffed. "Why can't you be happy for me? I'm doing this for the both of us!"

"The both of us?" You scoffed. "You're doing this for you. I told you the second you started practicing to not let sports come between us, to at least take the time to remember me!" You shouted as you quickly got in his space, your chest heaving as your hands found their way to your hips.

"And what do you do? The exact opposite."

"Well, what about you?"

Oh, he was not placing the blame on you.

"You're always working on the farm, that or rushing off to the mines for the third time in a night!"

"How the- that's not the same! And besides, you're barely here to begin with! I'd rather be in the mines with the ghosts to keep me company than lay in an empty bed for the fourth night in a row!"

Your husband only blew you off with a scoff at your words, turning on his heels to walk away from the conversation. And that single act, it only made the pain worse. So much worse that...you couldn't even believe that you had married him in the first place. In the beginning, you were absolutely smitten with Alex, admiring his determination for gridball as well as his drive to be the best at it! Even now...you still want to support him at it, see him become the very best but...not at the detriment of you.

Not at the detriment of your marriage.

If he couldn't be bothered to remember the simplest things about you such as an anniversary.

Then it was best if you left the picture completely.

You took a deep shaky breath. "...Pack your bags tomorrow Alex." You said, your breath barely above a whisper but still loud enough to where Alex stopped in his tracks completely.

"What?"

"Pack them," You repeated. "You want to focus on gridball? Fine, but it won't be with me playing second fiddle to it." Then, you turned around to walk to the bedroom and shut the door behind you.

[retrieve-the-kraken]

Okay, so I’ve finished my taxes, and I’m basically out of the woods with some overwhelming work stuff, and everything turned out well with a medical situation with my mum, but I am still very tired, but I also cannot keep going without putting my preliminary thoughts on my very first viewing of season 3 down on a post…

It seems my worst characterization so far is assuming that these two idiots would learn to communicate. They haven’t, they’re stupid teenagers, they’re really bad at it, they get mad at each other for everything, and they don’t listen. And that needs to change soon if we want Wilmon endgame.

Boris, do you do couples therapy? PLEASE HELP THEM.

I think a big reason Wilhelm lashes out, besides getting caught up in his own head, is the fact that he’s also constantly afraid of saying the wrong thing and pissing Simon off. But the stakes for Simon are clearly higher. Wilhelm really needs to learn to communicate, but he’s dragging a whole life of terrible communication and zero support, so HOW is he supposed to learn, if he naturally feels afraid to open up?

It shows in the way he reacts to learning about Erik. Simon might be right, and Erik maybe just gave in to peer pressure, like everyone else in that school (which we see over and over again, like with the strike, and that guy who just repeats ‘yeah hilarious’ when Vincent tells him, and the graduation rituals and basically everything that everyone does at that fucking school), and maybe he wasn’t particularly homophobic. Or maybe he was, but if he had found out about Wilhelm maybe he would have changed his views (after all he was a stupid kid too)… But how would Wilhelm know? Erik is dead, there’s no way of asking him, confronting him about it. And people still call him perfect, and still compare him to his brother.

It must be so traumatizing to have held this person in your head as the one you trusted for everything, the one who would support you most, the one who probably knew you better than anyone else, who would love you and be there for you no matter what, and it turns out that he might not have accepted you at all. And just like that Wille is all alone and angry and afraid again.

(This is why it’s extra cruel that August posted that fucking video, especially how premeditated it was to share it over the whole world, but also then tell Wilhelm that his brother was possibly a homophobe. It doesn’t matter that he went through that horrible hazing, it doesn’t matter that he put a stop to it, and it doesn’t matter that he’s a stupid kid too, the fact that he did THAT to someone, anyone, is awful and he should have known better.)

So that scene in season 1 when Erik teases Wilhelm about his crush potentially changes completely. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it was just a coincidence that he never used any pronouns…

And that makes it even more traumatizing that his parents still think of Erik as the figure of perfection, and Wilhelm, who is queer and scandalous and rebellious, is the real thorn on their side. Fucking Ludvig saying that Erik really was perfect, that he didn’t have “that darkness inside of him”, to his surviving son… But for all we know maybe Erik’s death was not accidental, maybe he did have “a darkness” inside of him.

On the other hand, that “darkness” doesn’t excuse Kristina at all. I am convinced that this depression/burnout that she’s going through is absolute bullshit. Sure, she might be depressed, she’s still grieving her “perfect” heir, and she’s going through a lot. But it’s like Wilhelm says, how convenient that she shuts down and breaks down now. She wasn’t like this when the video happened, because she could still cover it up. And she wasn’t like this when Wilhelm called her to scream that he was going to abdicate, because she could still drag him out of Hillerska. It was only when he told the whole world, and there was no covering it up anymore, that she suddenly became fragile with grief.

And even if it were true, even if she’s going through a severe depression or burnout, as a result of everything that’s happened, that doesn’t excuse her previous lies and manipulations. And it makes the fact that she still really wants Wille to become her successor, despite knowing what it could do to him, despite knowing that he’s already extremely anxious and that he does not know how to manage his own emotions, is evil.

(And even if she wants August to be the backup too, knowing how he is, knowing his own family history, and how it could affect him too, is evil too.) MORE on this later.

Kristina uses her breakdowns to emotionally manipulate Wille into trying to do his best to be the perfect crown prince, now indirectly through Farima and Ludvig. And Wille’s so concerned with her and her fragility that it affects his relationship with Simon. Because he’s anxious about the possible imminence of having to take over, of being the new monarch, when he can barely control his own feelings, when he just wants to enjoy his first relationship and just be in love.

Of course he made things worse for himself and Simon when he publicly revealed their relationship, but we can understand where that’s coming from. He didn’t want to hide anymore, he didn’t want to not be able to be himself anymore, not be able to be with the boy he loves. But they’re still forced to hide, because people start hating on Simon, because people won’t stop talking about them (as much as I HATED Wille shushing Simon, I also understood that he didn’t want anyone to hear their argument, because he didn’t want to give people more reason to talk about them, but also there’s probably a lot of ‘keeping up appearances’ embedded in his mind), because they are very different and almost incompatible for many reasons, and because being the crown prince means conforming to a lot of things (no tattoos, no cutting your hair shorter than, no nail polish, no expressing political opinions, etc etc), and so he has to remove the nail polish and he doesn’t want his foundation to be geared toward LGBTQIA+ people or mental health issues… He can’t express himself, he can’t be himself, because what he is or who he is for real is not compatible with his role or what is expected of him… he’s so repressed still.

(The whole nail polish scene, and the scene where Simon suggests that Wille’s foundation could be geared toward LGBTQIA+ youth, reminded me a little of Isak in SKAM saying that he wasn’t just going to start marching in the Pride parade or wearing makeup. Wille is not necessarily about identity expression, or at least he doesn’t think that he should be. He just wants to be himself, and be with the boy he loves, and that’s it).

As for Simon, he can do no wrong, and I absolutely agree with everything he says and does, but he has always been very idealistic, and he does come across as a little more naïve than I expected, especially with the whole social media comments and his song. It wasn’t the first time he experienced it, because things went south for him when he appeared on the video, so for him now to think that people are magically not going to be cruel.

But I understand how much he’s sacrificing for Wille, and Wille not appreciating it at all must sting. Just like he points out that he didn’t have contact with Micke for years, for Sara’s sake, and suddenly she’s living with him… that fucking hurt. Simon has always been very opinionated and outspoken, and he’s very authentically and proudly himself, but he’s also always molded himself to what other people need, like being a parented child and taking on too much in the house to relieve Linda, and taking care of Sara, and worrying about his father, and letting himself be manipulated by Marcus, and now basically giving up a lot of himself to be with Wille. And as a result Linda treats him like he’s a drug addict, and Sara goes to the father she didn’t want to have contact with, and Marcus talks shit about him to the press, and Wille doesn’t listen to him…

Sara saw the light (sort of), so maybe hopefully Wille will too. More on that later too.

Anyway, it would have been nice for someone from the royal court to sit Simon down and explain to him what being the boyfriend of a royal involves, so that Wille doesn’t have to figure out how to tell him all these difficult things himself. Wille is so used to some of these things, they seem so obvious to him, that he might not immediately think of how weird or outlandish it might seem to Simon. (THat scene with the cake, I mean… it was funny in a way, but I wonder how many terrifying thoughts crossed Simon’s mind, the obvious “wait what??? did I just eat poison???” but also “wait what??? someone’s trying to poison my boyfriend????” and “there are kids here, have they also accidentally been poisoned????”).

I really really hope that, since he’s being forced to go to Boris with August, that Wille will think about going with Simon, and trying to work things out. They need to be able to say all these things to each other, get on the same page.

More importantly, I need a callback to what Boris said to him in season 2, about the expectations of his family, about being able to make his own choices. Which Wille internalized beautifully with that speech to Simon outside his house.

Anyway, this is already very long. Moving on to more general thoughts:

- I did think that the fact that they sort of resolved the whole issue with the police report and the drugs felt a little anticlimactic. It was built up and built up and the whole season 2 finale was about that, and we had a cliffhanger and everything, and then… bye. I wonder if it will come back (more on that later).

- And for that matter, Alexander just became a background character. Did he even have any lines? I could barely spot him.

- August telling Wilhelm in front of everyone at the table that he’s sure Wille will fuck up on his own… rich.

- Also Stella and Rosh was sort of hinted at, it happened in a blink, and then Fredrika was… jealous? Confused? Homophobic? All of the above? But then… NOTHING. Stella was even missing in the last episode, because she was “sick”… (scheduling conflicts for Felicia? Actually sick?)

- I think it’s interesting that Sara preached and preached to Simon about giving people a second chance, including their dad, and then she… goes and does it? It wasn’t the first time she did, she was with August despite the awful thing he did. And then she goes and… gives August ANOTHER chance????

- Someone needs to tell Sara that she needs to stop getting wtih August, because every time they get together somehow, Wilmon go south… It seems these two couples cannot exist simultaneously…

- So I still have to rewatch, but… is August then in the middle of selling his father’s estate to pay Simon? Are any of his friends aware of this?

- I have a cultural question: what was the whole deal about travelling to the US? I mean, I thought they were asking if these kids have never travelled abroad, but they mentioned the US specifically, several times… Is that a thing in Sweden, traveling to the US? Not any other part of Europe? Not Asia? Just wondering. Made me curious.

- Still waiting for this season’s Elias song… just one episode left… If we don’t get one, or a callback to Revolution, I might claw my face off…

- Nils repeating that maybe Wille would have been better off with someone from the inner circle. Seriously, Nils, who do you mean? WHO? Who could you be referring to? Hmm?

- Something else about Nils… a part of me really wished that Wille would have asked Nils for confirmation on the Erik thing. Wille obviously doesn’t want to believe it at first, but then he does, and hearing it from August makes it even worse, so maybe hearing it from someone like Nils would be the final confirmation that he would need, that his brother was the worst. On the other hand, for him to ask Nils to confirm something like that, as a gay, and possibly hearing what happened to him as a result of it… that would have probably made it even worse.

- Really hate that Marcus was mentioned, that he came back to haunt Simon in a way, even if it was minimal. But props to Simon for not rising to the bait in that moment.

- Simon, my love, i understand that you’re upset and heartbroken, but… it would have been nice if you tried to get Wille to talk to you one last time, before breaking up with him on his birthday… especially seeing everything he’s going through. Not that your feelings are any less important than his, of course, but… are you trying to get him to jump out the window????

-Eternally saddened by the disappearance of the orange sweater. Eternally saddened by the fact that Wilhelm did not set foot in or around Simon’s house this season. Although who knows, still one episode left…

Things that I liked most:

- Seriously the chemistry between Edvin and Omar is OFF THE CHARTS. The intimacy coordinator this season was very good.

- Especially that sex scene. Not just because it makes me immensely happy when my favorite ship fucks, because holy shit that was hot, but also because there’s a whole theme around all the hate mail and messages and classism and homophobia and toxic masculinity that Simon is a target of, especially being Latino, whilst Wille, being white and privileged and high class and the heir to the throne, is probably seen as the “man” of the relationship (especially since in the video he’s also the one “in control” whilst Simon is the receiver), so it’s very VERY satisfying to see that they are both top and bottom at times, and they both equally enjoy it.

- Also the use of choir music during the sex scene, giving it a very holy feel, much like Elias’s Holy playing when they have sex again in season 2… seriously I NEED my Elias song this season or I WILL START A REVOLUTION.

- At first I was annoyed at the whole “school possibly closing” plotline, because I thought it was unneeded. Or that maybe it would play a bigger role in the whole video-drugs controversy. But the truth is that it was really good, how it highlighted these kids’ privilege and the absurdity of wanting to cover things up and uphold traditions, and it also worked wonderfully to highlight the divide between Simon and Wille. As Simon says to Wille, he only takes a stand when he has nothing to lose.

- Felice. Felice this whole season was magnificent. Her whole breakdown over the end of her friendship with Sara, showing how truly important it was to her. And Madison saying that sometimes breaking up with a friend is worse than getting dumped, and I AGREE SO MUCH. But then I also think she loses her sense of self, because despite being popular and beautiful, she still gets used and treated badly, by August (obviously), but also by Wille (the kiss), and worst of all by Sara (who in a way used her for her horse, but also for the clout). And in the meantime, she’s treated differently than the other students for being one of the few black girls, and she gets singled out for her hair… and yet, the school is using her to make themselves look good. And now she decides to give Sara a second chance, because she really missed her, because it really hurt to lose that friend, and Sara goes and… does that…

- One of my favorite things about Simon is how he is proof that just because you’re gay doesn’t mean that you have flawless fashion sense. And i can’t help but wonder how fashion and style icon/ELLE’s Best Dressed Man/OMR Beauty founder Omar feels about Simon’s fashion choices. Never change, Simon, never change.

- Vincent was every bit of the tremendous asshole that I hoped he’d be this season. Did not disappoint. I wanted to punch him in the face every time he opened his mouth. Marvellous.

- I’m happy that we got more Madison, but still not enough. Still, iconic. Forever one of my favorite characters.

- I don’t know what to say about Sara and Micke. Just maybe that, when he played that song in the car, even before they started singing, i just knew “oh fuck, it’s all going to shit soon…” I guess Sara felt lost enough that she was suddenly willing to give him a second chance. And the whole “is that going to happen to me?” bit really made me sad. That she understands that mental health and mental illness is unfortunately many times hereditary, and worries that she might become just like him… But despite not being entirely like him, with addiction problems and such, she was still unreliable like him, she did bad things to her family like he did… I was rooting for you, Micke, we were all rooting for you.

- I feel that August’s love for status and for the monarchy might be starting to fray at the edges. First with the fact that he was reminded of his own traumatizing initiation, and reminded of how the crown prince, his cousin and friend and idol, himself was part of that. Second with the fact that Simon points out that he might have an eating disorder, how he would probably not fare any better than the queen if he were in such a stressful position as crown prince or king, how difficult it is for him to handle stress and anxiety. And third with seeing how it affects Wille and Simon and realizing that something similar might still happen to him and Sara. And the fact that he reveals to Sara why he is the way he is, that he lets his guard down with her, might point to even more growth (even though I hate that Sara sort of gave him a “second chance” again). Also I feel the reality of how they, the Royal Court, would control his life is finally sinking in. Hopefully he will also soon realize that they also use him as a manipulation tool. So maybe he won’t let himself be manipulated by them much longer.

- I loved Wille’s ultimate outburst at his mother and father, i love that he told them everything they needed to hear, about their emotional abuse, their neglect. Unfortunately they still refused to acknowledge how terrible parents they have been, and walked off, instead of trying to resolve it. So Wille throwing around the gifts, as impulsive and tantrum-ish it might come across, makes perfect sense. He tries to talk and gets nothing in return. If he’s repressed it’s bad, but if he expresses himself then nothing happens either.

- And I love that Simon got to see what Wille is really dealing with. As privileged as he might be, he’s still lacking the most important things: unconditional support and love. No amount of money or status can make it better, and Wille is broken. The only thing is that, Simon saw how broken Wille was over the death of his brother, whom he loved very much, but I don’t think he quite grasps the gravity of Wille learning that maybe that beloved brother wouldn’t have been so cool with him, because he has never had to deal with a parent or sibling rejecting him for his sexuality. It’s something very different to be rejected by society at large than it is to be rejected by your own family, and not everyone has the emotional strength to deal with that. So for Wille’s parents to still like his potentially homophobic dead brother more than him, is heart-wrenching. But I don’t think Simon really gets that because he’s probably not surprised that Erik might have been like that, because in his eyes those privileged kids in that school (except obviously Wille, and Felice and Madison, who is asking about the non-binaries) are probably all massive homophobes.

- Despite this, I love that Simon sets boundaries nonetheless. I mean, it hurt like fucking hell for him to tell Wille, on his fucking birthday, that maybe they shouldn’t be together. But just because Wille is hurting doesn’t mean that Simon has not also been hurting too. And if they can’t comfort each other, and try to support each other when they both obviously most need it, then maybe they’re just not going to work. And it took a lot of guts for Simon to bring it up in that moment, in Wille’s bed, in the palace, where he’s basically trapped, with nowhere to go, no way to get away (I doubt he called Linda in the middle of the night to come pick him up more than two hours away in Stockholm).

My hopes for the final episode (I don’t think I have any predictions other than, open ending or not, Wilmon will be endgame and there will be a revolution, I just don’t know how):

- Wilmon talk. An actual, healthy, heartfelt talk. A reconciliation for the ages.

- That the fucking school will close and August won’t be able to graduate, and he’ll realize that maybe he shouldn’t have “lived for that school”, as Erik once put it.

- That Wille will realize that, if Erik was not the person he thought he was, then maybe he no longer has to live up to his legacy anymore. @foreverunraveling pointed out how, now that the big Erik revelation is confirmed, then maybe the queen’s trump card to manipulate Wille into being the ideal crown prince is gone. Wille doesn’t care about the monarchy really, but he did care about not disappointing his brother, the “perfect crown prince”, and now we know that he was far from perfect. Erik lived a double life, as Wille points out, there was “public Erik” or crown prince Erik, and there was “private Erik”, or the real Erik (or so Wille thought, now we know there was a “secret Erik” which was the real Erik) and Wille struggles so much with the idea of having to split himself in two, . Wille cannot live a double life, he withers away when he has to hide himself, and now he gets the opportunity to leave that stifling life behind, and blossom.

- That Simon will get a fucking break. I hate that his whole life was turned upside down from the moment the video was leaked, and it’s just never going to be the same, whether he stays with Wille or not, he’ll always be the boy from the crown prince sex tape, he’ll always be the crown prince’s ex, or the crown prince’s boyfriend. But I want some positive feedback for him, someone bigger than the woman and the little boy wanting a selfie. I want him to have his own fanclub or something. Maybe that’s too idealistic…? (I may be imagining something like that scene in Red White and Royal Blue, when they realize that there’s a whole crowd outside the palace all excited to the the Prince and his First son boyfriend… one can dream).

- I want whatever Felice said during the interview to be taken seriously, and for her to stop doubting herself.

- I want a genuine apology from August.

- Also one from Kristina.

- I get the feeling that the fact that August leaked the video might still come out publicly, what with the whole school issue. And in that case, I would like for it to be Simon might to do it, tossing the money from the settlement in his face. It looks like Simon still feels guilty about accepting it, especially when he chided Wille about his privilege and Wille (figuratively) threw the money back in his face. What if Simon does it literally?

- I really wanna know what’s going to happen between Felice and Sara now. The outlook is not good.

- Is it too much to ask to know what’s going on between Stella and Fredrika?

- Most importantly, is the whole thing with Erik going to come out eventually? And how will people react? With support for the monarchy, or with support for Wille?

I have so many more thoughts, but I’m slightly burnt out, and I really should take a break. Also this is way too long. Might have more thoughts once I’ve rewatched the first five episodes, calmly over the weekend…

Also this is very long and I’m sorry.

[onlycosmere]

Cosmere/Magic the Gathering

'What IP do you most want to see in Magic the Gathering?' Thunderwoodd: Stormlight Archive!

thyfoolish1: Brandon said they reached out to him and he was excited and ready to go but they haven't gotten back to him. I think this was Dragonsteel last year. So there is hope.

Egi_: Even after the shitshow with the free book he gave them on the condition it wouldn't be commercialized and then WotC commercialized it?

Brandon Sanderson: I knew what I was getting into working with a big corporation. Like the proverbial frog giving a ride to a scorpion, I don't see justification for complaint regarding the eventual sting. I love the game, and the designers, so that's really my metric. As a note, everyone I worked with on the narrative team was wonderful.

I don't want a passing secret lair of five cards; I am interested in a full-blown set, so with that constraint, I wouldn't foresee a Stormlight or Mistborn crossover until one of several things happens:

1) They burn through the bigger properties that match MTG's vibe like LOTR did. Fantasy, or science fantasy, properties that feel legit as a big expansions. As mentioned in this thread alone, there is a pretty deep mine there. Dune, Witcher, Elder Scrolls, Arcane/LoL, Westeros (if they're feeling spicy.) A hobbit set is all but inevitable as well.

Considering they'd be unwise to put these sorts of things out too quickly, and should really give them time to breathe, we're looking at ten years easily before they're out of larger fish to fry. Stormlight is big for a book series, but without any shows/films/games, I'd suspect it doesn't have the casual word-of-mouth reach their marketing team looks for to justify the extra expense of licensing fees.

2) Said bigger properties decide they aren't interested, leaving things popular but without media representation. If they ever decided to experiment with a book-only series, I suspect I'd be very high on the list to approach.

3) Cosmere gets one of said media properties, something I'm actively trying to accomplish--but it is slow going, as I'm in the fortunate position of being able to be very picky about partners, and prefer to take my time.

I've made it clear to them that if a large-scale set were in the, ahem, cards, I'd be willing to make frequent trips to Seattle to be part of the design team on said set.

awakenedjunkofigure: If any author deserves the pick of the litter for production companies, it's absolutely you. Can't wait to see what your books would look like on-screen!!

Brandon Sanderson: Well, the answer to what they'd look like on screen is "Expensive," which a part of the problem...

schloopers: Any large consideration in your mind for spoilers versus fully representing a world or story?

Stormlight you’d of course want all 10 Orders, so spoilers are far as those are concerned are a given.

But maybe a legendary creature “Iron Eyes” instead of any spoiler specific proper names?

I ask because I have so far gotten one friend in the playgroup to start reading, and a couple full sets would for sure help in garnering interest, but I would worry for the story beats getting too greatly revealed out of context.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just unavoidable. I’ve had several Dr. Who episodes “spoiled” for me through that set.

Brandon Sanderson:  This is something I haven't given a lot of thought toward, but I perhaps should be mulling it over. You make a good point.

Thunderwoodd: Woah! Can’t believe you responded. Huge fan! And I loved your commander cube! Saw it on Game Knights right after I finished Rhythm of War.

Curious, do you think the Radiant orders could correspond to guilds or color wedges?

Brandon Sanderson: Yes, I've done thought experiments on that, and think guilds could actively work for them without too much trouble. Problem is, would we want a Stormlight set or just a Knights Radiant set, because ten guilds for ten orders is already a high demand. It might be better to make a wedge set, but the problem there is that the Radiants are actively all colors, so it would be hard to cut out any save black. (Willshaper individuality and artistic expression could be green red instead of red black, for example.) So maybe five four-color wedges? I think the lore could support this, and be something that MTG has had trouble conveying without the expansive worldbuilding an entire book series could provide.

Radiants and sapient spren (all but black, to indicate the inherent selfless Radiant cause)

Human Nations (all but green, to indicate triumph over nature, which is an antagonist on Roshar.)

Singers (All but blue, to indicate the lack of ability to plan for the future, dearth of scholars, and onset of madness in the fused.)

Non-sapient Spren and wildlife (All but white, to indicate lack of overriding societal structures.)

Secret Societies (All but red, indicting the deliberate and conscious planning of these groups.)

Four color signpost uncommons would be WILD, even with hybrid mana. So I can see the design team balking. This (four color guild set) is almost certainly something they've explored and specifically decided not to do.

mediocreattbest: It’s crazy coming onto this post to say “any cosmere set!” And then see you actually replying. Out of curiosity, would you prefer just a stormlight set or a cosmere-wide set? I’d love to see characters through their stories (like we had with the LotR set)

Brandon Sanderson: I'd prefer Stormlight or Mistborn alone, as the planets themselves are so much a part of the stories.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Newlywed Life

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Victor, Emili ]

[ Corpse Bride ]

I was watching the movie when I realice that most stories doesn't show the troubles of having to adapt your life to someone else because now they are together

Is kinda like when you moved somewhere else, it even works with family, I mean I did it like 5 times in my life (it was tortuous but I couldn't do anything)

Victor Van Dort

For Victor getting use to the marriage life isn't going to be easy, if you two knew each other for a while now or even was in a relationship before it would be a little easier but still not completely, and if the case is that it was a arranged marriage then he will be way too anxious while trying to adjust to everything

First of all, marriage is a really important thing in the time he lives and is something expected so that alone already puts a lot of pressure on him, adding that he has a really bad self-esteem due how his mother not only treat him but how she talks about him, and since his family have money (and that could be the main reason of a arranged marriage) he kinda doubts if he could be a good husband and maybe even thinks that this marriage is just for the benefits (if you two already know each other from more time it would be more like a fear rather than a doubt)

Honestly, Víctor is just too scare to mess things up or even make it uncomfortable for you two, he will extra anxious if he does love you or if you two have just met, but in both cases are a diferent kind of anxiety, in the first is because of that love that he is scare of messing things up, and in the second is because the situation is already awkward enough for him to be clumsy and messy

Once you two start to live together he will spend quite a while feeling anxious and tense, not fully knowing how is he suppoused to act, stuck between wanting to give you space and trying to make sure you feel comfortable. It is too much for him and soon, if you aren't the one breaking the awkwardness he will be the one to speak up, admiting that he doesn't really know what he is doing but he wants to try his best, and actually after that he start to grow more comfortable and let him to slowly start to get used to the marriage life without feeling like everything he does will mess up things (and if you feel as awkward as him will help him to feel not so alone in this, in the other hand if you are comprehensive and even comforting he will feel a little flustered but also embarrassed, but it isn't something too bad, it helps at the end)

Victor is the type to be willing to adapt himself to you and that is why communication is the key with him, even without much words as long as you are willing to be sincere and don't be too demanding and critical of him then things will go slow and smooth, the love and care grows slowly but it is obvious (and if you two were already together then that will slowly get you two closer). Although, he need some reasurance that is fine for him to don't give in on everything

Is more likely that you two end up being a kind of marriage that grows to have a complete rutine without even planning it, but is something rather comforting where you two grow comfortable and even end up coordinated with each other, still that doesn't mean that he won't be willing to do things that get outside of the usual rutine with you (he has the money to afford it anyways, as long it isn't something that make him uncomfortable or let him without personal space and time, he is patient and willing but will get mad if he runs out of patient or if is forced into something)

Emily

Emily is completely in love with the idea of getting married, still she is expecting to marry the love of her life, her soulmate! so, somehow, when you two get together she knows you are her soulmate (still there is not pressure or expectations to be met, she does love you for how you are)

Due Emily's entusiasm it won't take long for you two to get married, when she knows she is in love she doesn't see reason to wait, still she is willing to take it slowly if you prefer it that way (but will never stop saying how much she want to spend the rest of her afterlife with you)

Emily is a totally entusiast for the newlywed life that is a waiting for you two, however, her own entusiasm is what lead her to don't leave the honey moon phase for a while, she just can't help but feel like in heaven after you two get together (specially if you agree or let her be all the entusiastic she wants because she won't see anything wrong then)

Still, despite what it may seem, Emily truly love you and make efforts to know more about you, she isn't only interested on getting married but also in getting to know you and in sharing her life with you, that is why she is more than willing to learn about your normal life and rutine and making effords to make it agree with her own rutine. As well, she does expect that you do your efforts for the relasionship, she is patient and understanding and will love to get to know you and your own way to do things but she needs your confirmation and reasurance about the relasionship, as well the demonstration that you are willing to do some things in her way, even reasurance without words and just by actions will work, at the end she just want to share her life with you and be together but in a relationship one can't do all the work

Emily may be the type to believe blinfuly in her partner but she isn't stupid in the slighest, it would take her a while but at the end she will learn to respect your own space and time, just as she takes time to herself to be with her friends (although, she will be more than willing to just bring you with her wherever she goes)

Even so, it would take her a while to get used to don't be so clingy or even needy because of how much she loves being with you; and just like that it will take her a while to grow fully comfortable around you too, not that she doesn't feel comfortable with you is just that she want you to see her as someone pretty and she tent to get nervous or even embarrassed when she loses her eye or get clumsy, so she needs some time to reach the comfort where she doesn't feel like needing to act perfect all the time (your reasurance can help, reminding her that you love her just as she is brings her a lot of joy and comfort)

In the afterlife you won't really have much problems for what you could be worried about so is more likely that if you two grows to have a rutine is after a long time of being together, because before that Emili wants to have all kind of little adventures with you

[slaymitchabernathy]

Red

“I don’t like that color.”

Coriolanus sighs at the snippy tone. He’s gotten used to it over the years, how she still tries to poke at him, push his buttons, fight him on every decision.

She’ll learn one day.

“I always paint them this color darling,” he reminds her with a tone all too gentle for the way she just addressed him. But he’s patient with his girl. For the most part.

“None of my friends paint their toes red anymore. Now it’s pink.”

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows as he continues to paint even, red strokes of polish onto his girlfriend’s toes, acting as if he’s so interested in what her silly little friends are doing.

He’s met some of her friends. Seen how stupid those girls are, their boyfriends too. All so bubbly and not at all driven.

“Then you’ll be extra special,” he says, finishing with her left foot. It’s a good thing Coriolanus doesn’t mind feet. Not that he actively seeks them out, but he doesn’t mind his girlfriend’s small feet. Not when he gets little moments like this with her. And she giggles whenever he tickles her feet too, so that’s nice.

Soarynn huffs but doesn’t say anything in reply. He’s glad. He’s had a long day at work. He never thought such a domestic task would bring him such serenity, but for some reason, he truly enjoys painting his girlfriend’s toes.

It all happened on a whim. The nail salon she normally frequented got closed down—rat infestation— and Soarynn was without a place to get her pedicures.

Coriolanus being the economic man he was offered to paint her toes for her. It was a bit of a joke at first, what could he possibly know about painting toenails? But he knew how to make things work, how to overcome and adapt.

He was a Snow after all. And he’d been through a lot in his younger years, survived a lot, learned a lot.

Soarynn preferred white toenails at the time but he’s convinced her to go with red. It would be a one-time thing anyway. But then it turned into every once in a while until every three weeks Coriolanus Snow was painting his girlfriend’s toes.

In a way it was embarrassing. Here he was, the powerful Coriolanus Snow hunched over while his girlfriend placed her feet in his lap. But he didn’t mind. He did it out of love. And pride. But mostly love.

None of Soarynn’s friends had boyfriends who were as dedicated as he was to her. None of those sorry excuses for men were willing to come home after a long day of work and do something as tedious as this. But here he was.

“What did you do today while I was at work, my love?” He asks, gently taking her other foot and placing it on his knee. He’s learned to be more gentle over the years because of her, more kind, to smile more.

He’s usually so focused on the task at hand that he barely spares her a glance but he looks up at her just this once to truly admire the piece of work Soarynn Nightingale is.

Her head is tilted while she thinks. It’s cute. How she probably did two things today but has to think so hard about them. He likes that about her, how utterly clueless and dumb his girl can be sometimes. She’s smart when she wants to be. When she wants to run that mouth of hers.

“Well I woke up around ten,” she starts.

Coriolanus woke up at six. Like he does every day, six days a week. He wakes up to his alarm and rolls onto his back, wondering why he had to go and be so ambitious with his work.

He slips out of bed, showers, does his morning routine before putting on the clothes he picked out the night before. He sprays on some cologne before leaving the bathroom. All that’s left is to say goodbye.

Soarynn is always fast asleep. Her blonde head of hair peeking out from under the thick duvet covers. He presses a kiss to her forehead before leaving for work. Then she wakes up four hours later.

“Then I got lunch with Clemmie around one, maybe one-thirty.”

At one-thirty Coriolanus was in his fifth meeting of the day, buried in spreadsheets and concerns about the District’s production quotas.

“Oh and then I did a little shopping. Not too much I swear.”

Coriolanus smiles to himself as he paints even strokes on all five of her toes. As spoiled as she can be—which is his own doing—Soarynn is always careful when handling his money. He appreciates that about her. How she knows it’s his, not hers. That plastic card he gave her is a privilege and it can be taken away.

He never takes it away though.

He likes seeing her spend his money. Remembering when he had none makes him more proud to see his girlfriend carting around handfuls of bags all filled with frivolous nonsense. It makes her happy though. If that counts for something.

Her card is red.

He gave it to her on her twentieth birthday. She’d been so excited, jumping up and down and kissing him silly. He likes taking care of his girl, fixing all her problems. And goodness does she have a lot of problems. They’re all so easy to fix. The sink is leaking, she can’t find her favorite pair of heels, the restaurant she always goes to doesn’t have any available tables for her and her friends.

All such simple, elementary problems that he solves with the wave of his hand.

He calls the plumber who arrives in twenty minutes. Because when you’re a Snow, people tend to bend to your beck and call. He buys her ten new pairs of heels, all the same style as her favorites, but a variety of colors. He knows the owner of the restaurant who happily moves some people around until his girl and her friends have the best table in the house.

It’s easy to make Soarynn happy. And when she’s happy, he’s happy.

Because Coriolanus Snow isn’t a good man when he’s mad.

He sees red when he’s mad.

Soarynn’s only witnessed it a handful of times. Seen how mad he can really get, how mean and aggressive he becomes.

He thinks it’s a good thing though. She knows not to test him. Not to push him.

So when he insists on painting her toenails red, she doesn’t argue with him for long.

That’s when she’s smart, uses her senses, her charms.

It’s probably because she remembers the one time she got in his way, made him more upset, pushed him too far.

She remembers that night. How he yelled, how he pushed her, how he grabbed her.

They both saw the same color that night.

It’s the same color they’re seeing right now on her toes. The same color they don’t talk about even though it sits in the back of their minds. In a way it leads them to both despise the color due to the nasty memory it brings up.

But they don’t talk about it.

How it always seems to lead to red.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[fluffysucker]

2. Everything is blue

A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.

Angst train still going. I promise there is a plot and you will get more Bucky. In the meantime, please share your thoughts and how do you think it's gonna play out.

Likes, comments, reblogs are very highly appreciated

Feel free to correct me if you find any mistakes

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

It was rough. That's all you could think about. However, when anybody asked you, you never said it out loud. You didn't know why. You felt that maybe if you said it was a mutual decision, then things would be easier. It would make a bit of sense. But a part of you knew everybody saw right through your lies. How could it ever be easy?

Some time has passed since you signed the paper, making you officially divorced. Since there wasn't any big fallout between you and Bucky, you were able to settle everything without going to court. Bucky was already offering everything. He would be the one to move out, so you and the kids would stay in the house. And he was paying more than enough child support. The kids would spend the weekends with him as well. As said, there were no conflicts or arguments in the divorce except for your crushed feelings.

The arrangement was working. On weekdays, you had the kids. Bucky would call them daily. Then came the weekends when Bucky would have them. You were still adjusting. You never thought you would be a single parent. It's taking a lot from you to come to terms with your life now. You didn't have the luxury of time. You were a full-time mother along with your job. Your two children counted on you. They needed their mom to be focused and present. And you knew if you let yourself be, you wouldn't even leave the bed. So you bottled it up, kept it all in, acted as if you weren't dying every single day, and kept going on.

But seeing the man who broke your heart weekly wasn't making it any easier. You expected that it would only last for a while, and then Bucky would forget about the three of you. You were preparing for this. However, it never happened. He remained very present in the kids' lives. He kept in touch and knew everything about Lily and Theo. He even put so much effort into reminding the kids of his unceasing love for them.

He was still the best father you could have ever asked for your kids to have. He just couldn't be your husband anymore.

You were cutting the fruits into star shapes, just like they liked it. Then, add them to the bowl next to the crackers and the cheese. Lily and Theo were always hungry when they got back from school. You were expecting them any second now. Bucky volunteered to pick them up today. Both of you had to stay in very close contact for the sake of your young kids. Even if it was so painful to see him, you were willing to go the extra mile. Because your kids were your top priority.

You heard the door opening and your children's voices speaking thousands of words a second. You already knew they would be so happy that Bucky was the one to pick them up. With him away five days a week, the kids were always missing him.

It's a mutual decision to let Bucky keep his key to the house. All decisions regarding the kids were mutual. Other than that, you weren't sure.

"How was your day, sweeties?" You asked aloud as both of them ran to you and hugged your waist.

"It was great. Miss Sally really liked my project." Lily couldn't hide her happiness. She had been putting her heart and soul into this project for sometimes now.

"I knew she would. I'm so proud of you, baby." You pressed a big kiss to her hair. Then you turned to your son to ask about his day.

"It was good. But Karl's mom wouldn't leave us to come home when she saw Daddy." Theo told you as you gave him a kiss on the cheek as well.

You should have expected that. Everyone knew about you and Bucky's divorce by now. By no competition, Bucky was every woman's crush. All the mothers and teachers never even tried to hide their crush on the man. And nobody could blame them. Along with his attractive looks and killer body, Bucky was incredible with Lily and Theo, a true hands-on father. He was also very successful at his job. He was the whole package. But he was yours. And you used to make it clear that you didn't take well to flirting with your husband.

Now, he's not your husband anymore. So you should know that women would be throwing themselves at him. Especially those who already liked him, like Karl's mother. You hadn't thought of this yet. The fact that Bucky is single now He could go out with any woman he desired. He could touch, kiss, sleep with, and even love any woman. Any woman but you.

You shook the idea out of your head quickly. You were in enough pain. You didn't need an addition. You sent the kids upstairs to change, and then they can have their snacks. You turned to look at Bucky, who was standing by the kitchen door in all his glory. It was clear he left to get the kids straight away from work. You always used to tell him how formal attire fitted him and brought out his best features. You frowned when you saw the look on his face. What was it?

"I have bad news." You tried to control your breathing. You weren't ready for any more blows to your face.

"Tony and Pepper are in town, and they want to meet up." You groaned in annoyance. It was better than you thought, but still bad.

Tony Stark and his then assistant, now wife, Pepper, were friends of yours. Not as close as others, but still friends. Tony was one of Bucky's most important business partners. You really liked them. They were good people. However, They were the most extravagant couple you had ever met. Not only were they inseparable, they always had a story to tell. An overtop story for sure. And if they wanted to meet, you would have to meet.

Which was exactly what led you to your current situation.

Sitting in the café, which was clearly Bucky's choice, and you were thankful for that. But you weren't thankful for anything else. Tony and Pepper had been talking nonstop; you couldn't remember for how long. There were so many stories about their work, their new big house, their dates, their trips, and the new intern, whom they clearly were adopting. The list didn't end.

You tried to pay attention; you really did. But you couldn't when you had only one thing in mind. The way Tony had been holding Pepper's hand ever since they got her, drawing circles on it Along with the glimpse you got from their stories, you couldn't help yourself.

Tony held the same reputation that Bucky once did. A ladies man A playboy. A man nobody thought would settle down. However, when Tony did settle down, no one questioned him, and no one warned Pepper about him. Nobody doubted them. You couldn't say the same for yourselves.

"So what about you, guys?" Pepper's voice broke your train of thought. You looked at her with a fake smile.

"Anything interesting?. An amazing trip? Maybe another baby?" You could feel the tears forming in your eyes and the pain rushing through your body at Pepper's question. You quickly got a grip on yourself and managed to look normal again.

"Actually." You turned to Bucky, hoping he would be the one to tell them.

"We got divorced." And he did.

In any other situation, Pepper's loud gasp and Tony spitting his drink on you would be very funny, but not when you were on the receiving end of it.

Bucky moved quickly to hand you tissues as Tony apologised profoundly, which you reassured him was okay.

"When did this happen?" Pepper asked as the shock wore off.

"About a month ago." You let Bucky do all the taking, not trusting your voice to speak.

Another loud gasp escaped the couple. Their reaction had to be the funniest of all the people to whom you told the news.

"We thought it wasn't going to happen." Pepper's quiet voice didn't miss you, giving her a questioning look.

"I mean, we all thought it would happen eventually, but after Theo, we thought that was it. You guys were in for life."

"Yeah. It was kind of really expected early on, but not anymore."

"We used to place bets on whether you were even going to get married or not. We all lost them when he proposed."

You were putting all your efforts into controlling your breathing and stopping the panic from taking over. And Bucky's lack of answer wasn't helping. Did he always have this in mind? To leave you?

You were thankful that Pepper changed the subject. It's better to hear about their overbearing stories than how everybody doubted your relationship from the start. How was it doomed from the beginning?

Did Bucky have answers to all of these questions? You couldn't tell. You weren't able to read the man sitting next to you anymore.

With all this on your mind, before you knew it, you were leaving with a promise to meet again. You and Bucky got in his car together. You kept a little conversation going between the two of you. However, you avoided Tony and Pepper's comments like the plague. And you didn't know if you liked it or not. Would it be better if you knew more?

You've reached your house. You thanked Bucky for the ride and got into the house. You found the house better than expected. Uncle Steve and Aunt Sharon kept things in order. You went to your babies and kissed their cheeks as they were all watching TV.

"Get ready, sweeties. Daddy wants to take you out." Of course, that is why Bucky dropped you off. He wanted to see the kids.

Your kids' very excited squeals were the only source of peace you had lately. They put on their shoes and left right away for Daddy, who was waiting outside.

"How were Tony and Pepper?" Sharon came to help you as you started tidying the living room.

"Great. Did you know Tony got Pepper a huge bunny for Christmas?" You laughed as you recalled one of the many bizarre stories they shared.

"As a matter of fact, I did." Sharon replied as she finished putting the toys in their box.

"We all did." Steve joined the two of you.

"Then you must have known that mine and Bucky's divorce was coming. Apparently, you all did." You didn't mean for it to be bitter. You didn't mean for it to come out at all. It just slipped. Your act cracking a bit.

Steve and Sharon shared a look. They didn't know what they could say. What could they tell you? That they all expected it. But not now. Not anymore. That the timing was the surprise, but not the split. However,was it worth making you feel like a fool who believed in the love of her life? It wasn't.

You quickly recovered and changed the subject. Anything they would say wouldn't make it better. And you weren't looking for answers from them. They stayed, and you chatted for a bit. Nothing too serious. Just filling time instead of being alone.

However, after saying your goodbye as they were about to leave, Steve called your name.

Would it ever stop hurting? Was this really the end to yours and Bucky's story?

"Whatever happened. I want you to know that you saved Bucky's life. You gave him a purpose."

You had to bite your lip to stop the breakdown. You couldn't decide whether Steve's words were enough condolences or if they were only fuel for your fire. All you could do was give him a small smile.

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @almosttoopizza @ragingrainbowshipl @dexter99 @xdarkcreaturex

[milunalupin]

hello !!   I just found your page, and your work is very good! If you’re willing to, I thought I would ask if you could write an Ominis x FMC piece where the FMC is actually a major fan of history and tends to go on a hyperfixiated rant whenever she’s asked about it, but seeing how many people don’t care for the subject, especially Ominis, she feels embarrassed and stops midway. With that, maybe you could incorporate ominis comforting her? or possibly him trying to seem engrossed in the subject to impress her?

thank you for your request, i hope you like it ! :)

— mon amour, mon ami

ominis gaunt x reader ★ 535 words

If you asked any of the students at Hogwarts, they would say that History of Magic was their least favorite class. That would be because of Professor Binns, whose constant droning on did nothing but put the class to sleep. A midday lesson would keep you drowsy for the rest of the day. Not that History of Magic was a particularly boring subject, but the professor enjoyed talking about his own past too much to really learn anything.

You were the exception.

Despite doing quite well academically, even Ominis couldn't fight against the way his eyes fell shut during the ghost professor's draining lectures. He doesn't understand how you can stay bright eyed and upright during them.

"Tell Sebastian he should be more careful. Him and that friend of his have been in the Hospital Wing more times than I can count. They're one dragon claw away from getting sent to St. Mungo's." you had told him one day, sitting side by side in the Transfiguration Courtyard. "Speaking of, they should be careful with dragons, in general. We just learned about Dragon Pox you see, and Professor Binns said..."

Ominis smiled to himself, wondering how you could work on your Divination essay, the Arithmancy extra credit work, and in the nicest way possible, prattle on about your History of Magic lesson.

If it was your lovely voice speaking to him, perhaps the dangers of Peruvian Vipertooths and ancient illnesses would interest him more.

Ominis kept rubbing his eyes, having stayed up last night studying. He didn't make it to breakfast that morning, needing to sleep in, so you were catching him up on Sebastian's latest adventure. The dumb sod tried to clear a whole mountain troll den on his own, his plans on finding a rare plant having failed. This woke him up, he could put his newly acquired knowledge to use.

"You know what else failed?" Ominis piped up, switching his wand between his clammy hands, "The Werewolf Code of Conduct that was developed in 1637. It's a shame that no one felt safe enough to reveal themselves as werewolves and sign it."

"Very true. You know, my cousin knew a girl whose uncle was a werewolf and- hey-" you brows knitted together, turning "How did you know?"

"Last week's lesson."

"Obviously it was last weeks lesson, but you hate History of Magic!"

He chuckled nervously, "It's been growing on me."

"Ominis that's wonderful!" you gasped, both hands coming to hold onto his arm. "You know, I was talking to Professor Binns the other day and we're going to have a project on wandlore in a few weeks. We could partner up and get started on it early!"

His heart rate picked up as you squeezed his arm with excitement, nodding in agreement because he could never say no to you.

"Perfect! I was thinking we could go to Ollivander's and ask for some samples of the different types of wand wood. I also already started researching wand wilting, and Stella from Potions said she'd let me take a look at hers since it's hazel wood! Did you know..."

No, he laughed inwardly. Ominis had no idea about what you were rambling on about.

[sweetpeasummers]

Everything That I Want

Summary: Leon has been avoiding you and you’re worried about the reason why.

Word Count: 3.2k

Rated: Explicit (Language, Smut, Mentions of Death)

Pairing: Leon/Fem!Reader  

Author’s Note: I originally wrote this when RE4 first came out as Leon/OC, but am not comfortable uploading that. So I took my favorite bits (more to come), edited them on my own into something I’m proud to post and here we are. I will be uploading to Ao3 later.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Resident Evil nor any of the characters.

It's been a frustrating few weeks and you're trying to do anything to not think about why your partner Leon Kennedy has been avoiding you. Which is why you find yourself at the gym hoping to bench press your way into oblivion. You grip the bar, take a deep breath in, lift the bar and lower it to your chest, exhaling you push it out away from you.

One...Two...Three...Four

You set a steady rhythm desperately willing the simple act to clear your mind the way it typically does, but you feel it start to wander again. What in the hell is going? One day he was Leon your friend and partner and the next he was...gone. He hadn't returned any of your phone calls and every time you were in a room together he'd make some weak excuse as to why he had to leave. It was confusing and as time dragged on downright hurtful.

You'd always had a bit of a thing for him ever since you were first paired together, his good looks had drawn you in, but his snarky one liners and compassionate, friendly nature had endeared him to you in a way no other man ever had. Initially it wasn't easy being paired together. Leon was leery and jaded though warmed to you quickly. He threw himself into the work, you admired his drive and told him as such. Though on more than one occasion he joked about being forced into it. When you pushed for an explanation he told you everything; the outbreak in Raccoon City, the creatures he fought, and how he barely made it out. Then admitted he wasn't given a choice to become an agent. His vulnerability made you confess to your share of misery, the T-Virus leaked in your rural town. Killing reanimated corpses of the people you knew and loved was a nightmare you'd never forget. Subsequently you weren't given a choice either. Your relationship was different afterwards. You turned to each other, shared secrets, doubts, and even fears with one another. The innocent crush you had on him developed into something so much deeper. The job was brutal and having a partner you could rely on was more important than a boyfriend, so you buried those feelings. It was so damn hard because sometimes you thought he was flirting with you but chalked it up to you seeing what you wanted to see. So you stayed guarded, pulled away just enough to still be considered professional, but weren't always successful. Maybe Leon finally figured it out, caught on to the fact that you had feelings for him beyond what a friend or partner should and it freaked him out.

You hated not knowing, sighing heavily, you look up at the man spotting you. Daniel was such a nice man, one of the few agents to have a normal life outside of the insanity that was your job. He owned the gym you were in, had a wife and a little family. He was happy. One of the more well adjusted agents you'd met and couldn't help but wonder if it was because of his life outside of missions. You attempted to date but every relationship fizzled out.

“Could you add more weight please?” you ask Daniel. You hope the extra weight will make you focus. He reluctantly does, you grip the bar and lift up your hand slips and the weighted bar comes dangerously close to crushing your throat, but Dan catches it in time and together you put it back in place. You sit up breathing heavy, shaken from what just happened.

“What is going on Y/N, you look like shit?” he asks gruffly.

“Thanks I feel like shit.” you reply still trying to compose yourself.

“You wanna talk about it or do you wanna hit something” Dan asks you. You always appreciated his bluntness.

“I wanna hit something.” you quickly respond. Not even knowing where you'd begin to explain your situation with Leon with any sort of anonymity. It'd be embarrassingly obvious who you're talking about.

“I can help you with that.” Dan motions to you to follow him. He leads you down the hall to a large empty room with a ring. He throws you a pair of gloves and gets in the ring. You spend the next half hour sparring, Dan was right it did help.

“Thanks for helping me out,” you say and truly mean it. You feel less tense, like you could go home and not mope around your apartment.

“Yeah no problem,” Dan answers cheerfully, “You seem like you needed it. If you don't want to be alone you could come and have dinner with me and the Mrs. You know Julia always makes enough to feed a small army.”

It's tempting, you feel better than you did earlier, but also you know you'd still be miserable company.

“Maybe some other time, thank you for the offer.” you respond with a small smile.

“I'll hold you to that,”Dan replies.

Before you can leave, you hear a door open and footsteps approaching, Dan looks behind you and waves. He calls out “Hey Leon long time no see!”

You freeze, oh you're tense all over again, suddenly it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. You hear Leon chuckle and answer with “Yeah I've been busy, had a lot to think about.”

Okay, Leon hasn't been avoiding just you it seems. You turn and see him walk closer to where you and Dan were standing. Well that's different you thought, but stay quiet whatever he was going through he'd made it clear he didn't want your help. You just look away and focus on a random spot on the wall. You tune out their conversation lost in your own thoughts. Normally Leon's presence was a comfort but now it was bringing a god awful stew of emotion you felt these past few weeks to the surface. You wanted to stay and try to talk to him again, but decide you have to go before it bubbled over and you did something embarrassing like sob or scream. You try to leave quietly, but you feel a hand softly catch you by your wrist.  You're shocked to see its Leon holding on to you. You get your first good look at him. He looks exhausted, nervous and unsure of himself.

“Y/N, please don't leave. I need to talk to you.” you hear Leon say. You pull your wrist out of his grasp and stay in place. Good or bad it seems like whatever is going on can finally be over.

“Well I don't want to keep Jules waiting so I'm going to head out, unless,” Daniel trails off looking at you with a nervous smile on his face. You look away from Leon to Dan then back to Leon and take a deep breath hoping it's enough to calm yourself before speaking,

“It's okay you can go Dan. I'm actually very curious as to what he has to say to me.” Your response does absolutely nothing to alleviate the tension in the room.

Dan breathes out a shaky “Okay, you two are the last ones in the building, you know where the keys are. Could you lock up on your way out?” Dan walks away quickly looking back and gives you both a small wave on his way out the door.

“Do you think you'd want something like that?” Leon asks you.

“Like what, you mean like what Dan and Julia have?” you ask and answer your own question. You don't give Leon a chance to respond before asking him what you've wanted to ask him for weeks.

“Leon, what's going on? Why have you been avoiding me?” you ask more hurt than you wanted spills out, perhaps the feeling hadn't completely faded. You cross your arms bracing yourself for his answer.

Leon winces before continuing, “I've been a real dick haven't I?”

You nod your head not trusting yourself to speak. Leon continues, “I'm sorry. I've gone about this all wrong. I didn't want to hurt you I just needed time to get this right.”

It feels like your head is spinning, you want to ask more questions, but you press your lips together and let him continue.

“It never felt right with anyone else and it killed me every time I saw you walk away with another man. For so long I couldn't understand why, ever since Raccoon City I've shut a part of myself down. Detached, because I thought it was the safest thing to do. It's easier. It's also pretty damn isolating. I finally figured it out. I want something more outside of just being an agent. I want something that isn't death and monsters and lies. I wanna be happy, every time I think about what that looks like it's with you. I know what I just said could make you uncomfortable and I will respect and decision you make.” he finishes breathlessly. He still looks nervous but like a weight has been lifted from him.

Your mouth falls open in shock, you slowly uncross your arms and let them fall to your sides. That he wants to be with you wasn't even in the realm of possible things you thought he might say. How could the two of you have gotten it so wrong. All this time you thought you were making him uncomfortable and he thought he was going to make you uncomfortable. You were so wrapped up in hiding your feelings you missed his right in front of you. Three years worth of memories hit you like a truck; so  many conversations, stories shared, dinners that weren't dates, shouldn't be dates but in hindsight very much were. You remember the night he admitted to you he didn't know how to keep living with what he'd been through.  You stayed with him until he fell asleep. He always returned the favor, some mornings you'd wake to the smell of coffee and his smiling face. How could you have been so blind? It didn't matter though Leon wants to be with you. You want to be with him. Happiness blooms and spreads in your chest, your lips lift in a brilliant smile. You can see the moment it clicks in Leon's head that you feel the same way he does. He's just waiting for you to say it.

“I want everything and I want it with you.” You reply. You're both so giddy you almost don't know what to do with yourselves. He steps towards you until there's the barest breath of space between your bodies. Leon is staring at your lips while slowly leaning down. Unable to speak you nod your head. He reaches his hand to cup your face and your lips meet. It's the sweetest and gentlest you've ever been kissed. You lift your hands up to hold onto to his arms afraid if you don't you'll melt into a puddle on the floor. You break apart, but he keeps his hands on your face Leon rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes.

“I want you,” he whispers roughly. A different kind of tension fills the room, heat flushes through your whole body.

“Then take me.” you simply reply. “Here, now, please. You heard Dan we're the only two people in the building..” You waited years for this you don't want to wait any longer.

His eyes snap open. He pulls his head back and drops his hands to rest on your upper arms. A delicious smile spreads across his handsome face at your suggestion. You reach up to grab his hand and without a lick of shame guide him down the front of your pants to cup your warm center. You whimper, your lasciviousness sends Leon over the edge. He yanks his hand away, wraps you in his arms and kisses you. There's nothing sweet or gentle about it this time. He's desperate, like a long-lost lover coming home. You give as good as you get wrapping your arms around his neck to press yourself closer to him. You feel him half hard against your belly and gasp, Leon slips his tongue into your mouth deepening the kiss. You continue on like that for a few minutes, barely breaking apart for breath, hands roaming each other's bodies touching everything and anything you both could reach. You run a hand through his hair, down his chest, and palm his erection through his shorts.

“God yes,” he whimpers.

He pulls away from you and reaches behind  himself to yank his shirt off and throws it down on the mat. You're a bit lost at the suddenness of it but follow Leon as he pulls you down to sit on his discarded top.

Aching to touch him again, to feel his bare skin against yours, you pull your shirt up and over your head, Leon grabs it and throws it behind him. You both try and get your sports bra off but the sweat coating your body makes it difficult and your arms are sore from your punishing workout earlier. This bra ain't coming off without a fight. In your frustration you pull from the bottom up enough to free your breasts. Your spandex bottoms prove to be just as difficult, you kick a shoe off and manage to get one leg out. Leon leans back and shoves his own pants and boxers down to his knees freeing his cock. He moves to balance on one knee awkwardly struggling with his clothes. It doesn't dampen the mood as you can see his thick cock bobbing with his every movement, you're keenly aware of how empty you feel as your cunt clenches around nothing.

Once his clothes were sufficiently dealt with Leon looks down at you, eyes heavy with desire and you shiver. He pushes you gently to your back and moves to cover your body with his. Your stomach tightens as he lowers his open mouth toward your chest. He runs his teeth along a hardened nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking. Your head tilts back and your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. Your hands find the back of his head and hold him close to you. He switches to the other breast lavishing attention there. His other hand slips down to pull your panties aside to slide two fingers through your wetness and into your cunt, fucking you open. When he crooked his fingers just right and rubbed your swollen clit with his thumb the pleasure was so intense you felt as though you were melting, but it wasn't enough. You needed him inside of you.

“Please,” you whine “I'm ready. Fuck me.”

His mouth moves away from your breasts, “Yes ma'am” he rasps against your ear.

He takes his hand away, you look down, spread your thighs farther apart plant your feet down and see him grab his cock and guide it into you. You both groan in pleasure as he smoothly sinks all the way in and finds his rhythm thrusting into you. You'll never be able to be in the room again without thinking of the delicious feeling of Leon inside you, your soft breasts pressed against his hard chest, his ragged breathing in your ear. The wet slapping sound of your bodies meeting. You kiss every part of him you can reach. Your hands run through his hair and nails score down his back. They finally land to hold on to his shoulders. Leon Kennedy is your entire universe at this moment and nothing has ever felt more right.

He moves a hand down between to where your bodies are joined and rubs his thumb against your sensitive clitoris again, its all you need. You move to wrap your thighs around his waist, the orgasm flashes bright and fast through your body. You come hard moaning his name.

You feel him stop moving and hear him say, “Shit no condom.”

He moves back slightly, removing your legs from around his waist and back down to the mat still spread wide apart. Leon pulls out of you entirely, gripping the base of his cock tightly. Through the haze of your orgasm you realize what's happening and before he can do anything you lick your own palm, bat his hand away and make a fist around his cock. You massage and stroke the jutting flesh between his thighs while encouraging him to thrust. It doesn't take more than five thrusts before you see and feel copious amounts of thick, wet come on your belly. He groans what sounds like your name, eyes tightly shut, mouth open with the mind numbing pleasure. You let go of his softening cock and wrap your arms around him, relaxing your legs to brush against his. He sags boneless against your chest uncaring of the mess now between your bodies.

Reluctantly he rolls away from you still trying to catch his breath. You sit up, push your bra back down, find your shirt and use it to wipe the come off your stomach then move to wipe the remnants of it off of his him. Luckily you have a change of clothes in your gym bag. He mumbles a thank you before pulling you down to cuddle by his side. He wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head.  You can't wait till the next time when you're in a place where you can both take your time to explore and luxuriate in each other's bodies. You'd never been so hot for another person that you couldn't wait till you were in a private place. The thought brings you back to reality and you tense up, remembering where you are. Leon feels your discomfort.

“You finally realize how out in the open we are, haven't you,” he chuckles a bit. Too mortified to reply you simply nod your head still holding onto him. He sits up bringing you with him. He tucks a stray bit of hair behind your ear and says, “Go home. I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

“Promise?” you ask, reluctant to be away from him even for a short time.

“Promise,” he breathes his answer against your kiss swollen mouth. He kisses you quickly and gets up to get dressed. You smile and do the same.

There would be consequences to what the two of you had done. A romantic relationship between agents was deeply frowned upon. Damn the consequences, you could worry about that later, besides you can't imagine Leon cares much about them either. The smile on his face echos the one on yours. Confident about the place in each other's lives the weight of life shifted, now balanced comfortably between the two of you. The odds weren't in your favor but you'd take the bad with the good as long as you had him.

[shubblelive]

— PAGES TURNED

summary : wilbur is a quiet guy, but there’s so much more to him than he shows. over swapped shifts, post it notes and paperback novels, you unravel him bit by bit.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of alcohol/drinking

pairing : musicianbur x fem!librarian! reader

pronouns : none (i think) reader is described as a “girl” and using other feminine descriptors

featuring : cc!wilbur soot, musicianbur, college!librarian! wilbur

word count : 2.6k

note : sorry this took. one million years. i had my exams and i turned 17, and then i went out of state to visit family, but i’ve had this in my drafts and i’ve been working on and off for a while. i hope you enjoy this, i’m thinking about maybe making it multi part? if people are into that? @starsyoubreaklikesugardust <333

You sincerely regret covering for your coworker. The campus library has a consistent, albeit small, staff. You work the same days every week; Monday morning, Tuesday afternoon and Thursday morning. The head librarian, Theresa, was more than willing to give you extra shifts whenever you needed. The library was where most of the richer students’ parents donated, and you were insanely lucky to get your job there. As a result of the consistent schedule, you work with two people regularly; Henry, who shares your major, and Janine, who’s one of the sweetest people you know. The rest of your coworkers, you knew exclusively through Theresa and her insistence of having staff get togethers at any opportunity.

There’s Chastity, who lives on your floor, and her girlfriend Kate. You got a front row seat to their first kiss after three months of egging them on with Janine at Henry’s 20th birthday. There are three more workers that work during the week on alternating shifts to you; Sam, the newest member of the term; Hae-Won, the only person who had worked there longer than you and Theresa; and Wilbur.

Wilbur, who was currently your new coworker as you started working five days a week. Hae-Won’s mother was sick, and Theresa had begged you to cover for them while they flew interstate to go take care of her. You’d been working at the campus library since you were a freshman, and they’d always been good to you. You had agreed, and now you were needing to rush from class to the library after every single one of your lectures. Sam, Henry and Theresa had all assured you that if you were late because of class you wouldn’t lose your job, but you felt bad leaving them with all the work.

Wilbur has barely spoken a word to you since you’d started working the same shifts. He’s not rude or angry, just quiet as far as you can tell. You like him. You both keep to yourselves, and Wilbur doesn’t snitch on you for smuggling your sandwiches out of the office when you browse the stacks during your breaks.

He doesn’t get mad at you for being late when you are, and he always puts stuff on the top shelf whenever you ask. He’s soft, and incredibly smart. You learn about him through hushed evenings in the office, both of you dead on your feet after you’ve locked the doors, neither of you wanting to leave quite yet. The low light gives his eyes an amber glow the same colour as sun as it peeks through the slats in the blinds of the office, surrounded on all four sides by large windows. The fishbowl, the kids call it when they come in on Friday afternoons. Not quite, you think. You’re both too boring to be fish, you make a joke when you hear a young boy say it. Wilbur gets a look in his eyes that he keeps for the next hour until you confront him. “Sometimes people don’t look a fish ‘cause they’re interesting,” he all-but whispers when you ask, eyes aglow and top row of teeth pulling on his bottom lip. “Sometimes they’re just pretty.”

You get to know Wilbur over campus coffees, and handmade bookmarks inspired by the paperbacks he checks out every week. Through his handwritten post-it note on the corner of the main monitor at the front desk, a stack of books with a cat perched on top, his writing slanted but mainly kept between the spines of each book. A request for a novel you’ve never heard of, but vow to search for. Theresa is the one who handles incoming books, but that’s not going to stop you from finding it yourself.

You begin to find those sticky-notes around more and more. There’s one resting on top of your backpack for you to find as you return from the bathroom. That’s a pretty skirt, the first one says. You should wear your hair like that more often, one three days later on the stack of returns he’s asked you to reshelve. There’s one a week after that forces a smile on your face. This made me think of you. It’s resting on a tiny journalist style notebook, one where you flip on the top. It’s got a quote from your favourite novel on it, and you slip the sticky note inside it gingerly, tucking it into the front pocket of your backpack. That afternoon during your lunch break, you go to the craft store instead of staying in and get yourself some post it notes. Yours are in the shape of a lemon, and when Wilbur goes into the fishbowl to grab his stuff once your shift is over, he finds one stuck to the side of his bag. Two words, ten numbers, all in your handwriting. Call me.

So he does, he calls you that very night. Despite the late time, you guys stay on the phone for nearly three hours. The next shift you two share, you tease him. “I thought you were meant to be the quiet type,” you giggle as his ears turn pink, him intentionally facing away from you to shield the smitten grin on his face as he pretends to write something on the staff calendar. “You had a lot to say the other night.”

It continues that way for a while, nightly phone calls in which you finally get to hear him talk unabashedly about the things he’s interested in. He’s in a band, he confesses shyly one night when you’re both on the verge of sleep. You don’t reply for a second, and he thinks you might have dozed off. You pipe up after a moment, voice heavy with sleep and Wilbur thinks he can’t possibly like you more. “Your first gig’s Saturday, right?” He nods, even if you can’t see him. You keep going anyway. “I’ll be there.”

He wishes you hadn’t told him, because he spends the next three days stressing. Performing always makes him a little anxious, a healthy amount of butterflies, as his friends say. But this is too much. He changes his shirt three times on Saturday night, twice because he wants you to like it, and another time because he sweated through the third one. He blames it on the intensity of the lights, when the drummer asks him if he’s okay, but they can all see the way his eyes are locked onto your frame, tucked into a little corner of the underground bar they’re playing. They play for about forty minutes, and you’re a little embarrassed to admit that you’ve never heard a single song they did.

Wilbur goes into the little backstage area after their last song, and his bandmates will swear he’s never moved so fast in his life. He’s chugging a bottle of water while trying to wrestle his guitar off his back, his glasses fogged up from the sweat covering his face. there are a few bothersome strands sticking to his cheeks, but he doesn’t care about that. He just wants to see you.

He gets to your corner and the table is empty. No, the table has things on it. Your chair is empty. There is something on the table. He reaches it and flops down into the chair you were just sitting in. A waitress brings him a glass of lemonade that you ordered for him and he gulps it down gratefully. He allows himself a few moments to bask in the post-show high. You might not be there, but that only brought his mood down slightly. He did it.

He is a little hurt that you didn’t stick around, but it’s nearing 10 and he knows you have a test on Monday. He takes another long swig of his drink, and reaches blindly for the one other object on the table; a paperback novel. It’s his favourite. He didn’t even remember telling you it was his favourite, but somehow you knew. His heart hammers inside his chest and he has to remember how to breathe for a second. He’d looked everywhere for that, even going as far as to see if he could order it online.

He flips open the cover, just to check, and he finds a scrawled message beneath the title page. Heard you were hoping to get your hands on one. I hope you enjoy. You’ll have to tell me all about it.

And he does. It takes him less than a week to read the entire book, and he comes to you on a random Thursday, eyes sparkling with a glint you’ve only ever seen that one night he was performing, and he leans over the front desk where you’re standing and before you can even process it he’s taking your head in his hands and pulling you into a firm hug. You’re not as tall, so you’re on your toes as you lean over the desk, struggling to wrap your arms around his torso as he hugs you.

And then he’s talking, loud and clear, and if the library was open people would be giving him dirty looks for how unashamedly he’s speaking to you. You revel in it. He keeps his hands enclosing yours and you lean over the desk to get as close to him as you can, wanting to absorb every single word out of his mouth. Wanting to breathe it in and keep it between your ribs.

Eventually he lets you go to go do some work, but you decide at that moment that you never want him to shut up again.

So, he doesn’t. With constant encouragement from you, Wilbur becomes more outspoken. Of course, there were the phone calls, but he was still reserved in person. He seems to take up more space over the next few weeks, unfurling slowly like an old painting, perfectly preserved with so much beauty to show once he was out in the open. It starts as small things, the way he calls out to you across the library after closing instead of approaching you to tell you softly. You’re almost in mourning, feeling like you’d lost that closeness with Wilbur that only you seem to have. The notion that once you put something out into the world it no longer belongs to you. Not that he ever did, not like that at least.

You’d feel like that and then Wilbur would do something so small, so sacred, that your heart would ache. Whispering jokes in your ear, fingers brushing yours when he passes you a book he thinks you’ll enjoy, grabbing onto both of your hands when he got so excited about something that he needed a physical tether to you to stop himself from floating away, into the air that he was now filling so wonderfully.

The others started noticing it too; Theresa mentioning to you how much more confident he seemed after he’d left the room, Sam, who brightened now that Wilbur seemed to return his enthusiasm, even the bassist of Wilbur’s band, who you ran into at a coffee shop, said he was different.

His band got another gig at a bigger bar, and of course you were invited again. This time you planned on sticking around for the whole thing, letting him wrap you in a sweaty hug once he ran off stage. “You were so good,” you gush, your breath on his ear sending shivers down his spine. His hands ghost up and down your arm, and you can’t bring yourself to let go of him. “But, Wil. Seriously, enough is enough.”

He pulls away just enough to get a clear picture of your face, shadows covering one side, the dim lighting in the venue not doing enough to take away from just how pretty you look.

“You guys need to start playing songs I know the words to.”

Your fake annoyance makes him laugh, one of the most genuine laughs you’ve ever heard from him. Warm, and thick, like caramel. Like his eyes when the two of you are huddled together in the fishbowl and he’s laughing, like there will never be enough time to spend with you. Because there isn’t.

His hands stop in their motions, and he notices your bare arms. “You’re freezing, lovely. Here.” He steps away from you and shrugs off his button up, leaving him in just a white-sleeved tee as he guides your arms in. The sleeves cover your hands and he goes as far as to roll them up delicately. His face is an inch from yours as he unwraps his hands from your wrist, and your fingers toy gently with a stray curl that bounces when you release it from your grip.

This time it’s you who takes Wilbur’s jaw in your hands, fingers running over his stubble. He’s drunk, hasn’t had a drop of alcohol the entire time, but well and truly intoxicated as he pulls you into him again, nose pressed to your hairline. “I’m so proud of you.” You mumble into his shoulder, and for a second, time is frozen.

You’re both brought out of it by rousing cheers from Wilbur’s bandmates, the guitarist and drummer both bullying Wilbur for not introducing you to them earlier. The bassist greets you warmly, and the three of them try to convince you both to go out for a drink. Wilbur’s the one who ends up ushering you out, arm around your shoulders as he placates his bandmates. Throwing a “We’ve got an early morning tomorrow at work,” over his shoulder as he steered you towards his car.

He’s only half lying. You do both have work the next day, however the library’s closed and Theresa’s hosting a party to thank everyone for their hard work. It starts at two, so you’re revelling in the fact that you get to sleep in. That doesn’t stop you from inviting Wilbur up to your apartment, though. Nor does it stop the two of you deciding to watch a movie together on the couch in your living room. It doesn’t even stop Wilbur from whispering to you while the credits roll. “You look so lovely tonight.” You flush, tearing your eyes from his face, looking down at where his hands are on your waist instead. “Can I kiss you?”

It definitely doesn’t stop you from nodding your head emphatically, your hands delving into his hair as he presses his lips to yours for the first time.

He tastes like spearmint gum and the mango of your lip gloss, his hands steadying you both and gripping onto the couch cushion. He pulls away just enough to murmur, “You’re wonderful,” and suddenly you’re so happy you’re laughing. He laughs too, taking your head in his hands until you’re kissing him again, and when he leaves nearly two hours later he’s gripping your hands so tight your breath hitches, promising he’ll see you at the party later.

And hours later, when you’re sipping on lemonade and leaning against one of the windows of the fishbowl, he sidles up to you and leans his head on top of yours. “My pretty girl.” Your hand wraps around his, and the two of you stand there for a few minutes in a comfortable silence, watching your coworkers mingle. He’d never been so outward in his affections, not when surrounded by people you both worked with. He was a reserved man, preferring to let loose around his family, his bandmasters, and you. But of course, that doesn’t stop him from pressing a kiss to your hairline, the two of you inside the library office, gazing outside into the rest of the library. “So so pretty.”

[superstar-nan]

Fight Tooth and Nail

Day 1

Summary: Your best friend goes missing after working a shift as an overnight security guard for the upcoming horror attraction Fazbear's Fright. You masquerade as a journalist to investigate their disappearance and find yourself with more questions. Questions that only a murderous animatronic intent on killing you has answers to.

Words: 3,586

Fun stuff: Springtrap/Reader/Michael, gender neutral reader, cannon typical violence, vv slow burn and romance is more implied kinda?? I'm very aromantic and the characters have complex relationships. william and michael are very much corpses and very much gross. Uploaded from my Ao3.

Next

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Your eyes flitted from the hastily scrawled note in your hand to the crumbling building in front of you. You knew it was supposed to look rundown to add to the scare-factor, but even from the back Fazbear’s Fright seemed more likely to receive several health code violations over screams. Maybe it was the broad daylight, or maybe it was the metal beam that collapsed in front of you right at that moment, but you couldn’t imagine the horror attraction gaining as much attention as the newspaper clipping led you to believe.

You hesitantly opened the back door, praying another metal beam wouldn’t collapse on top of you. It was unlocked, just as the man on the phone said it would be.

“Hello?” You said, before reeling back into the fresh air outside. The stench coming from inside wafted in a plume of rotten eggs and sweat. You gagged, taking in a couple gulps of fresh air, and then steeled yourself as you entered the building. The door shut with an uncharacteristic soft click behind you. 

“Hello?” You called out again. You blinked a few times, trying to adjust your eyes to the dark interior. 

“Over here!” A hand waved out of a room to your right with a dim, ghastly yellow-green light spilling from its doorway.

You walked into the room; an office filled with grime (possibly decorational), loose wires (hopefully decorational), and trash (definitely not decorational). A young man with a nonchalant grin swiveled on his chair to face you. He said your name and you nodded. 

“Awesome,” He held out his hand in a wide, informal handshake, which you returned. His grip was loose and a bit sweaty. “I was the guy on the phone.”

“Oh,” You said as you distractedly looked around the office. There were big boxes filled with Fazbear Entertainment merchandise along with character posters plastered on the walls. “It’s nice to meet you in person.”

“For sure, for sure,” He started clicking through security footage, drawing your attention. 

You noticed there were quite a bit of people throughout the building, all splattering blood stains or grimming-up corners to make the attraction just a touch more spooky. You bit your lower lip. Would any of them be willing to reveal some information to you, or would they keep you from investigating anything useful? 

“Welp,” He clapped his knees and stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Why don’t I show you around? You can get the gist of all the best scares of the place for... uh, who’d you say you write for again?”

“Scary Attractions Monthly,” You said, taking out a pen and notebook. It was a fake name for... something. Maybe a magazine or blog. You didn’t put too much thought in it and apparently neither did he.

No, you weren’t here to write a glowing article on a mediocre, somewhat distasteful, and very unsanitary hazard of a horror attraction like you said you were. 

You were here because of a call. A call you received at four in the morning. A call you didn’t pick up, but you wished you did. 

“Right, that,” He said in a way that told you he was going to forget it again. “Well, you’re gonna love the place, we found some real legit relics!”

You just hummed as you followed him out of the room. 

“The attraction opens in like a week, so everyone’s been working extra hard to make sure everything works, and nothing catches on fire.” He stopped in front of a disassembled torso of Freddy. “Uh, not that anything would, that was, uh, “off-the-record” .”

“Right.” You said, pretending to cross something out. 

“Yeah, so when the place opens, people will come in at the opposite end of the building, and work their way towards where you came in; that’s the exit. We’ve got some totally vintage relics, man. Like this foxy head, super authentic.”

You squinted at it. 

“Like, it’s not a crappy cosplay for sure .”

That made you think it was a crappy cosplay.

“But it’s not just these totally authentic pieces that make the place, the whole place is rigged super vintage.”

You stepped to the side as two employees rushed past you, holding a heavy box of miscellaneous mechanical parts, “What do you mean?” You asked.

“Like, the whole place is built like it’s 1987, just like from the missing kids stuff,” It felt a little insensitive to refer to that tragedy as the ‘missing kid stuff’ . “The ventilation, the electronics, even the cameras and stuff, all for that authenticity.”

You swallowed, “So there’s no security footage?”

“Nah, but we’ve got a guard on around-the-clock, even overnight, so it’s perfectly safe.” You already knew that. Your best friend was an overnight security guard.

Suddenly, a pipe burst, spewing some white, cloudy vapor rapidly at an employee who was struggling to get the pipe under control.

“And is the ventilation perfectly safe?” You asked.

“Heheh,” he started to sweat. “Basically, I mean. He’s probably fine. Here,” He turned you around to a different hallway, “Let’s go this way, you gotta see the coolest part of the attraction.”

You followed him to an area with no one present. It was an odd feeling going from a busy part of the attraction to this place of complete emptiness, and you finally found the creeping horror of the attraction. With the molding tiled floor that was once bright, the low-ambient lighting flickering on-and-off, and the decades-old child’s drawings interspersed on the walls, the place really felt haunted. 

Then, the smell of rot and decay hit your nose in a crashing wave. You held your nose and gagged. It was worse than when you walked into the attraction, and then you knew why this area was so empty. 

“You gotta get that pen out because you’re not gonna believe this,” He said. “We got one, a real one!” He looked back at you gagging and coughing. “Oh. Yeah, the smell is, like intense , but you get used to it quick.” 

“What do you mean...?” Your sentence was lost on you as your entire focus was drawn to figure in the corner. 

A very large figure in the corner. A rotten bunny animatronic that towered in the shadows. 

Chills danced up your spine in your visceral fear. You were stalled by some animal instinct you didn’t know you had. 

It was large and lumbering and fully intact—ruined and soiled with time. It had to have been nearly seven feet tall, even as it stood motionless in its hunch. It looked almost half a century old, and even in its decayed state you could still see the design of what it once was: a golden Bonnie suit now corrupted a dingy green by age and rot.

Your heart beat slowed when you realized it wasn’t moving. It was just an animatronic; part of the attraction. Even as you followed your guide towards it, its eyes flashed with reflected light in a way that was perfectly terrifying. This really was a great find for the attraction. 

“So cool, isn’t it?” He said, knocking on the animatronic’s mildewy chest, and though logically you knew that wasn’t dangerous, you couldn’t help the drop in your gut as he touched the thing. “It’s like it was made for this place.”

“No kidding.” You said, and you meant it. Honestly, that animatronic might’ve been the scariest thing you had ever seen, let alone the scariest part of the attraction. You dared to take a few steps closer to it. You weren’t able to pull your eyes away from it, almost as if you did it would lunge at you. 

Its eyes looked too human. You wanted to throw up.

“Yeah, so spooky.” He also was transfixed, but not for as long as you were. “You wouldn’t believe how long it took to find it! We found some vintage audio training cassettes with it. We’ll probably have them playing, like over the speakers while people walk through the attraction. It’ll make the place feel legit .” 

The cassettes didn’t even cross your mind, “Does it still work?”

“Uh, yeah, probably.”

You were finally able to pull your eyes away from the rotted Bonnie. “Probably?”

“Well, I’ve never seen it move, and no one else has either, but nobody moves it and sometimes it’s not in the same place so probably. The cassettes mention something about the suits following kid noises, but I haven’t seen that either. And uh, we’ve got a guard checking the cameras all the time, so it's not dangerous.” 

He said that so nonchalantly you were baffled, “Are you sure about that? Didn’t somebody get bitten by one of these things years ago?”

He started to sweat, “Oh ye-yeah, that’s something uh, we’re working on this week. We’re grabbing a mechanic or... There’s a week until the place opens so, you know.” He trailed. 

Your face blanked. Well, it wasn’t any of your business how dangerous these things were anyway. You were only here for one reason. “Right,” Your eyes wandered back to the animatronic.

Your heart dropped. You held your breath.

Its eyes were looking at you. Eyes that were too human. 

It wasn’t looking at you before, was it? You would have certainly remembered it looking at you. You swallowed as you took a step out of its sight. Its eyes didn’t follow you. You must’ve imagined it.

Turning away from the rotted Bonnie, you put your pen to your notebook, “Having overnight guards is a good safety precaution.” You said, and his shoulders visibly relaxed when you said it. “And it’s pretty authentic to the original Pizzeria.”

“Oh, for sure, for sure,” He said. “That’s what we’re trying for, authenticity and all. Plus, they’ll also be a part of the show to really get that feel of a pizzeria!”

“The place hasn’t opened yet, but do your guards run into any trouble at night?”

“Nah, or at least I don’t think so.” 

His nonchalance irked you, “You don’t think so?”

“Well, nobody’s mentioned anything to me yet, so.” 

“Hmm.” You tapped your pen on your notebook before setting it back down, “I heard a rumor that one of your night guards disappeared on the job, is that true?”

“What?” He started to look nervous again, though whether it was from the pressure of saying the wrong thing or the guilt of having done something wrong, you didn’t know. “Oh uh, I don’t really know anything about that, where did you hear that?”

“Somewhere online.” You said, casually. 

“Well, it’s not true, somebody would’ve said something or—”

“But if there’s only one person on the night shift, how would somebody be able to say something?”

A click was heard behind you. Almost like the sound of a gear. Both you and the man you were talking to turned toward the rotted Bonnie suit. It didn’t move, or at least it didn’t look like it moved. It was still. That didn’t matter. You and the man you were with were deadly silent for a few moments. 

“We should, uh, we should talk in the office, right?” He said, and it wasn’t a balm that he was anxious as well.

“Yes, that’s a good idea.” 

The two of you left the area with the animatronic, and you felt the air around you lighten. It seemed he was right when he said you’d get used to that rotted smell, because you didn’t notice how much it was a relief to get away from that thing. 

“Anyway,” He said as the two of you walked. “I don’t know anything about a night guard disappearing. Yeah, a night guard quit suddenly without any notice a few nights ago.” The two of you ducked as a vent dropped nearly on top of you, barely being stopped by two employees who grabbed it just in time. It didn’t slow either of your gaits, “And yeah, this is not the first time that’s happened and is eerily similar to events that happened thirty years ago. But there’s always a bad string of luck before grand openings, typical exciting attraction stuff. So...” The two of you slipped into the office as a group of employees brought in a string of large boxes, “Probably don’t mention any of the rumor stuff in the article.”

You eyed him head to toe as he sat in the office chair. He was sweating a little under your scrutiny. He wouldn’t give you anything if you antagonized him, so you smiled and he relaxed, “Of course, it’s typical. Especially for haunted attractions.”

“Heheh, yeah, ‘course,” He swallowed and sniffed. “Well, uh, what other questions can I answer?”

“Tell me a bit about the security guards' role in the show.”

He leaned back slightly in his chair, “Oh yeah well, this is where they will be, in this office. When the place opens, people will come in where I told you before, and work their towards this office, and pass them, and out the exit.”

You wondered if your faux-enthusiasm was believable enough, because it felt as stiff as the disassembled animatronic pieces, “Oh, very cool.”

“Yeah! Just like a real security guard from a pizzeria.” He said, “Or well, they are real security guards, but you get what I mean.” 

“Absolutely,” You said. “Can I see the cameras? They’ve got such a neat 80s vibe to them.”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” He rolled his chair over so you could look over his shoulder. “I just click the camera here and... one sec.” He pulled an old panel with a few technical reboot options on it, before clicking one. You leaned your arms on the back of his chair as you watched the cameras fizzle from white static to a poor resolution of video footage. “There,” He said. “Pretty legit, huh?”

“Very legit.” You paid very close attention as he flitted through the different cameras, or rather what the cameras didn’t catch. 

“Yeah, in trying to make the place feel more vintage we have overdone it a bit, heh heh. Some of this equipment is barely functional!” His eyes widened slightly as he held up his hands, “But still functional, of course.”

“Of course,” You said. “Well, I thought I might take some more notes on the attractions and then I can let myself out in the front?”

“All the way to the other end of the building? Sure, if you want.”

“Thanks,” You held out your hand. “It was great meeting you.”

He smiled and shook your hand, and you almost felt bad for lying to him. He was just a guy excited about horror attractions doing his job. Even if he was brushing the dangers of this place under the rug; brushing your best friend's disappearance under the rug... No, nevermind. You didn’t feel even a little bad.

“It was awesome meeting you too,” He said. “Can’t wait to read about us in...” He forgot your fake journalism blog/magazine/whatever. “A few days or whenever you get around to writing it.” What a save.

You threw him one last smile before making your way through the busy preparations. You pretended to take a few notes, gave your best impression of someone interested in an empty Chica head, and attempted to talk to a few employees. Talking to the people who were working was more fruitless than you hoped. They either were too busy to talk to you or were skirting around certain subjects like the man who’d shown you around had. You attempted to find real evidence and real clues as well, but that was just as fruitless. Fake blood and artificial claw marks fooled you every time and you had to pass it off as admiration and journalism.

No, if you wanted to know what really happened, you would have to get into that office. Look at it more closely and see if there were any traces or clues left by them. Or even if you could take a look at the cameras more closely, see if a bird’s-eye-view gave perspective. You could only hope that maybe there would be an hour between the day shift and the night shift that you could look around and do some real investigating.

First, you needed to find a good place to hide. Somewhere the cameras couldn’t see, but employees wouldn’t spot you either. From what you saw, the cameras even extended to the vents, which was insane to you. However, not all of the vents were monitored. In your mind, you imagined some big locker or box you could hide in, but there was nothing like that, so the vents would have to do. 

Your stomach dropped. Hiding in the vents also meant you couldn’t be seen tampering with them, which meant you had to go to the area with the least amount of people. You rubbed your eyes. You were an adult. You shouldn’t have been so hesitant to be around what was basically a giant toy, a decoration. A nearly seven foot, moldy, possibly dangerous decoration that could crush you just by falling on you. You swallowed.

Steeling yourself, you walked toward the area with the rotted Bonnie.

There it was. Unmoved in a way that mocked your fear. Just as horrible to smell (was it really that ruined by mildew? Did someone stuff food in there? Did some poor animal die in there?), but you were getting used to it quickly. After a quick moment of choking. 

You wondered briefly what it must’ve looked like on stage, alive with music and light, warm in color and a delight to children. That must’ve been such an exciting thing thirty or forty years ago. Now it wasn’t even a shell of what it once was, it was a perversion. Twisted and moldy in such a way that its wires looked like guts and its endoskeleton was dulled like bone. Its smile that must’ve been cheery at one point now looked like a permanent, malicious grin. Its eyes—ever too human for your liking—and teeth were nearly the same dingy color of its mildewy fur. You realized this Bonnie was missing his bowtie, and that made you sad for some reason. 

You cursed under your breath, “What happened to you?”

You hadn’t realized how close you had gotten to the rotted Bonnie. Not unlike the sickening smell that you had adjusted to, you seemed to have adapted to the initial fear the animatronic instilled in you. Suddenly in a morbid curiosity, you were wanting to poke and prod at it; to test how rusted its joints must’ve been or to try peeking for rot inside. You shook your head of the impulse. 

You turned your head to look at the way you came. There wasn’t anybody passing by just yet. You looked at the camera, which didn’t seem focused but you couldn’t be sure. Lastly, you looked at the vent against the wall. 

In an effort to alleviate the tension beating against your chest—caused by a fear of getting caught, a fear of not finding anything, and a fear of the rotted Bonnie themself—you threw the animatronic a wink and said, “Keep an eye out for me, will you?”

You hurried to the vent, throwing a cautious glance behind you. You knelt in front of it, fully prepared to use a piece of shrapnel you found to undo its screws. However, you found the screws had already been pulled loose, interestingly enough. You briefly wondered who could have the strength for that as you quietly shifted the vent open and slipped in, gently and silently putting the vent back. 

You laid there on your stomach for a few moments as your exhilaration began to calm down. You hoped this place’s ventilation system wasn’t so “vintage” and “legit” that you’d suffocate or get some noxious gas spewed into your lungs.

As your heartbeat fell slower and slower, you cast your eyes downward. You had a long evening of waiting ahead of you. You shuffled quietly until you could get a hold of an earbud in your pocket. You took it out along with your phone, putting the earbud in your ear. You tapped on your most recent voice messages. 

Maybe you’d be able to recognize something in the voice message... or maybe you just wanted to remember why you were doing all of this.

You tapped on your phone until their voice message began playing in your ear.

Silence.

Shuffling.

Heavy, muffled breathing.

More silence.

Your name in a shaken whisper.

“...Come...” Their voice was hushed so so quiet. “...Come to...”

A child’s laughter, not quite right.

“...Hurry...I-”

The sound of the phone dropping.

-Click-

Your finger hovered over the option to play the message again. Your best friend was working at Fazbear’s Frights the night you got that message. They were supposed to meet you the morning after. They didn’t. After giving the message to the police, Fazbear Entertainment reported that your best friend had clocked-out at 6AM that morning and that there was no incident during their shift. You didn’t buy it. Whether there was some big corporate conspiracy, or whether something happened and Fazbear Entertainment just didn’t want to delay the attraction’s opening, you didn’t know. But a body hadn’t been found and that was something . Something to hold on to. 

You would get to the bottom of it.

You rested your head on your arm as you played the message again.