#so now that ive finished it it turns out i have the brain power to read and study again

[zeawesomebirdie]

The most unexpected part of finishing MASH has been regaining my ability to study religion

[alchemiclee]

if I had money, I would pay someone to rewrite heaven official's blessing, but lesbian. if I was rich, i'd pay someone to turn it into a whole manga

[hughjackmansbicep]

The Seamstress

Contains: Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Summary: Youre a seamstress and he seems to have an endless supply of holey clothes....

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: None :D

a/n: haiiiiii ive always loved this trope in fics !!! tehe!! srry for not writing much recently i got fired from my job LOL anywayssss... i was listening to the smiths writing this unrelated but related.

Most days bled together, the same mundane routine playing out in front of you each day. Wake up, go to work, go home, eat takeout, and pass out to some soap opera. Currently, the highlight of your life was finding out what was going to happen next on The Days of Our Lives. You were a seamstress in the middle of Manhattan; you owned a small shop off 64th, and although you were living out your dream, nothing excited you anymore. Every task felt exhausting; you couldn't even find passion in sewing anymore. That was until he stumbled into your shop.

“Hi, yeah, I was wondering if you'd be able to sew this up for me.” He grumbled, holding up what appeared to be some yellow and blue jumpsuit. You'd almost forgotten to respond, completely captivated by his sheer beauty. His gorgeous face, chiseled body, kitty-like hair, and you can't forget the unusual yet totally working for him mutton chops. “U-um, ahem, yeah, I totally could.” You manage to choke out, reaching for the clothing item. “How long do you reckon it'll take?” You examine the clothing carefully; it's decorated with rips and holes everywhere. He's lucky if I can get this finished by the end of the week, “Tomorrow.” Your mouth moves quicker than your brain can. “Cool, I'll come by at 10? Is that alright?” He asks, slowly backing out of the shop, his eyes never leaving you. ‘10am? I can't begin to do that either; I mean, I wouldn't get to sleep tonight’. “Yep! See you at 10!” Cure that mouth of yours; you give him a smile and an awkward wave as he makes his way out the door.

You blow your breath out as if you'd been holding it the entire time, sinking down into your chair. You silently cursed at yourself for agreeing to such a stupid timeframe, but this meant you could binge Days of Our Lives tonight, so maybe it wasn't half bad.

The rest of the day went just as you expected. A couple hems, a few cinches—nothing out of the ordinary apart from the comic book cosplay you agreed to revive back to life. It was currently 3 o’clock in the morning; you'd been sitting there sewing the garment for 7 hours. Honestly, you'd been making great time; you were so close to finishing, maybe 20 stitches left total. Somewhere between the last stitch and a doctor getting slapped, you'd passed out on your living room floor.

You'd awoken to the feeling of your feline licking your cheek, causing you to immediately shoot up off the floor. Your eyes frantically searching for a clock, the power Must’ve gone out sometime around 5 in the morning because that's all you saw flashing back at you on the stove. In a frenzy, you started throwing random clothes on, praying they'd match, shoving the costume in a garment bag, and running out the door. Thats when you finally looked down at your phone, seeing the time read 10:03, “God damnit.” You whined under your breath. Your shop was only a couple blocks away, but that was still a 15-minute walk, so you sprinted. You probably looked like a complete lunatic, but you couldn't care less right now. The incredibly hot customer probably waiting outside your doors was the utmost important thing on your mind.

Dripping in sweat and hyperventilating as you turned the corner to where your shop was, you saw him just as you thought you would. Leaning up against the door, one arm crossed over his torso as he took a drag from his cigar with his other. God, he looked heavenly, and you... Well, maybe not your best day, but definitely not your worst. “Hey, sorry I'm late.” You breathed out, hands resting on your knees as you caught your breath. “But I've got your thingy.” You hold the garment bag up; he just furrows his eyebrows at you, cocking his head to the side. His silence makes you feel more embarrassed than you already do. You get up to unlock your doors, ushering him to follow you inside.

You check him out at the register; the only words being exchanged were the cost of the repairs and where he can tap his card. He walked out with a smile and a nod, a soft ‘Thanks’ escaping his lips before the door shut. You throw your head in your hands, feeling shame wash over you. You were hoping and praying he was going to leave his number on the receipt, but obviously he did not. I mean, why would you have had him waiting and showed up looking like a complete mess? Not very good looks. You simply had to chop it up as a loss and return back to the mundaneness of your life.

The very next morning, though, he was here again, this time holding an old brown jacket. He'd said there was a small hole in the pocket he wanted fixed. This time it only took you all 20 minutes. You asked him to wait upfront as you brought the jacket to the back to repair it. When you returned, you checked him out the same as before, and he left exactly the same as before. This became an everyday routine for the two of you. Every day he'd walk in with some worn-out article of clothing asking you to stitch it up; you always obliged, even if the clothes looked and smelled like they came from 1987. You always did wonder how this guy had so many ripped-up clothes just lying around, and why wouldn't he just bring them in all at once?

This charade had been going on for 2 weeks now when you finally decided to break from your usual script of ‘thank you, come again’. “Why is everything you own torn apart? Is everything okay back home?” You asked as he slipped his card into the machine. You could see the heat rising to his cheeks as he tried to hide a smirk creeping its way on his face. “You want me to be honest with you?” He looked up at you, pursing his lips together in a thin line. You nodded your head, waiting for him to continue, “I honestly thought you were gorgeous when I first walked into your shop.” Now your cheeks started burning red as your eyes went wide. “So every day since then I head into Goodwill and find anything I can with a hole in it so I can find an excuse to come see you.” This was the first time you'd ever seen this man avoid eye contact with you. You couldn't find your words as your throat had gone dry. He was into you??? And here you were this whole time thinking you ruined your shot (and that he was homeless, but you weren't going to tell him that). 

"Well, say something.” He exasperated, snapping you out of your daze. “I honestly don't know what to say; I’m shocked. I get off at 6 if y’know... You wanted to grab something to eat?” You offer awkwardly, smiling through the pain of how anxious you sounded. He looks up to you finally meeting your gaze, a soft smile painted on his lips. “Ill be here to pick you up at 6 doll.” He grabs your hand, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckle. He walked out the door, leaving you in utter shock and denial for the rest of your shift.

hi ps u can always request me shtuff to write! :3

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hiiii! Happy spooky season. I have a request for wade Wilson with choosing couples costumes!!!!! 👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃 I'd love to see what u come up with!!

The Spirit of Wade

You sat at your desk, buried beneath a mountain of work. Papers, emails, spreadsheets—all of it had piled up over the last few weeks, and it felt like you were drowning. On top of that, Blind Al’s Halloween party was just around the corner, and you didn’t even have the time to think about costumes.

Your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a text from Wade.

Wadeykins:Babycakes, what’re we wearin’ to Al’s spooky bash?

You groaned, rubbing your temples. The last thing you had time for was a costume shopping spree.

You:I’m swamped with work, Wade. Can you go to Spirit Halloween and grab us something? I trust you.

The moment you hit send, you instantly regretted it. Trusting Wade with anything remotely important usually ended in chaos. But before you could follow up with any kind of instruction, a new text popped up.

Wadeykins:OMW to Spirit. Gonna make us the hottest couple at that party, babe.

You stared at the message for a long moment, then let out a resigned sigh. There was no going back now. Wade was on a mission, and you had work to finish. You figured you'd cross the "what did Wade do?" bridge when you got home.

By the time you got back to your apartment later that evening, your body was exhausted, and your brain felt like it had turned into mush from the day’s grind. All you wanted to do was change into something comfortable and forget about everything for a while. But the moment you opened the door, your heart sank as you were greeted by a sight that was equal parts adorable and terrifying.

Spread out across the living room floor were not one, not two, but ten matching couple costumes. Wade was in the center of it all, beaming like a proud toddler who’d just shown his parents his first macaroni art masterpiece.

“Welcome home, pumpkin muffin!” Wade greeted, jumping up from where he’d been sitting. His eyes twinkled mischievously beneath his mask. “I know you’re busy and all, so I took the liberty of providing options.”

You blinked, staring at the sea of costumes that now dominated your living room. “Wade… what… what is this?”

He clapped his hands together, rubbing them like a mad scientist about to unveil his latest invention. “Okay, okay, so check it out. Blind Al’s party is a big deal, right? We gotta be the it couple there. So I went ahead and got us ten different matching costumes. I know, I know, I’m basically a relationship genius.”

You were torn between exasperation and amusement, but the exhaustion from work melted away as Wade’s enthusiasm radiated through the room. With a sigh, you dropped your bag by the door and walked over to inspect his selections.

“Alright, what do we have here, then?” you asked, folding your arms.

Wade excitedly began showcasing each option, holding them up like a game show host showing off prizes.

“Couple number one!” Wade started, holding up two banana suits. “Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich!” He held up a jar of peanut butter with a wide grin. “Get it? You’ll be the sweet banana, and I’ll be the chunky peanut butter. It’s a classic combo, like us! Everyone loves PB and B.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not bad, but let’s keep going.”

“Couple number two!” Wade swept his arm dramatically toward the next option. A pair of hospital gowns—complete with matching IV drips. “Doctor and Sexy Patient! Except... we’re both patients because it’s sexier that way. Plus, I already have practice wearing hospital gowns, thanks to the whole ‘mutated cancer mess.’”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “I think I’m gonna veto that one.”

“Fair, fair.” Wade shrugged. “Couple number three!” He held up a pair of inflatable T-rex costumes. “Dinosaur Power Couple! Imagine us stomping into the party in these bad boys. We’ll be unstoppable!”

“That sounds... sweaty.”

“Yeah, but think of the dramatic entrance!”

You chuckled. “Next.”

Wade dramatically threw his hands into the air and skipped to the next set. “Couple number four:Bob Ross and Happy Little Tree!” He waved around a giant paintbrush and an afro wig. “I’ll be Bob, you’ll be my masterpiece! I can paint you with compliments all night.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sweet, but no.”

Wade was undeterred. He spun toward another option, holding up matching black-and-white striped shirts. “Thieves in Love! We could go around the party, stealing snacks and hearts.”

You laughed. “Okay, that’s pretty cute.”

“Right? But wait, there’s more!” Wade dashed to the next set. “Ketchup and Mustard! Or Salt and Pepper! Or Burger and Fries!” Each matching pair was more ridiculous than the last, and each idea more absurd. You couldn’t stop laughing as Wade enthusiastically presented each costume, making over-the-top sales pitches for all of them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of couples costumes, Wade stopped in front of the last pair and turned to you with a grin that could only mean trouble.

“For the grand finale,” he said with a flourish, holding up a pair of cheesy superhero costumes that were definitely not part of any known franchise. “Super Wade and Super You! Capes included. We fight crime and bad party snacks.”

You rubbed your face, unable to stop smiling. “Wade… this is insane.”

He stepped closer, his eyes softening beneath the mask. “I know, but I wanted to give you choices. I know you’ve been working hard and you’ve been stressed. Figured I’d take some of the load off by going overboard with options. Plus, it gave me an excuse to flirt with you in a million different ways. Win-win.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Wade. Really.”

He cocked his head, a hint of shyness peeking through his bravado. “So… which one? Or should we go with my favorite?”

“And which one is that?”

Wade’s grin turned mischievous again. “I’m voting for Super Wade and Super You. ‘Cause let’s face it, babe, we’re already super together.”

You shook your head, but your smile never wavered. “Alright, fine. Super Wade and Super You it is.”

Wade let out an excited cheer, pumping his fist in the air before pulling you into a tight embrace. “We’re gonna be the sexiest, crime-fighting couple at that party, babe. Al won’t know what hit her.”

You laughed, leaning into him as he twirled you around. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible or impossibly charming?” Wade teased, dipping you dramatically.

“Maybe a bit of both.”

As you settled into the costume that night, you realized that, once again, Wade had managed to turn what could have been a stressful situation into something fun and ridiculous. And as you both headed out to Blind Al’s Halloween party, arms linked and capes trailing behind, you couldn’t help but think that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[zer05trange]

Roaring Sea

IV. Good Things

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ wc: 3.5k

⋆｡°✩warnings: angst, graphic violence, slight gore (blood), mentions of sickness and getting sick

⋆｡°✩: series masterlist

“Ivan, you can go ahead and clock out for today,” You say, with your arms deep within the oven, “I do need you all day tomorrow, though. You’ll probably need to close, if that’s okay with you.” 

“Yes ma’am,” You hear him from behind you. He should be satisfied with that, he was rightfully busy with school over the past few months, so he hasn’t got many hours in recently.

The boy proceeds to leave the store after getting half of the tips, and when he opens the door, a gust of cold wind blows in. You immediately start shivering. Even with the many years you’ve lived in Snezhnaya, her cold touch always froze you half to death. 

As the sun started to set, it began to be more dangerous to be outside for any longer than necessary. Your mind begins to wonder about Tartaglia, and how he’s fairing in the biting weather. It had been around 13 hours since he left you earlier that morning, so he must have felt the frostiness of the winter at some point in the day.

You need to stop thinking about him, though difficult, because the mere thought of him makes you anxious. And at this point, you can’t tell whether the anxiousness is from worriment or excitement. So instead, you try to focus your brain on closing your bakery for the day and serving your last customers. 

By the time that the least customer left your bakery, and all of your. closing tasks were finished, it was close to 11:00pm. You sigh as you turn off the lights and head upstairs, locking the door behind you.

You quickly change into some comfortable house-clothes before walking over to the kitchen to heat up the leftover soup that Tartaglia brought the night before. You heat the bowl on the stove and steeping a pot of tea, flipping through pages of a novel while you wait. Eventually, you take your filled bowl and mug over to your sofa, where you begin to eat your meal. 

You stare at the wall opposite you, looking at the vast amounts of pictures and paintings that mounted it. If anyone saw you, they'd be able to tell that something was bothering you. That may have been because of Tartaglia’s absence, or the whole Tartaglia situation itself. You can't tell.

You continue to eat and stare, trying to keep your peace amongst your sea of thoughts. And you do achieve some sort of peace for a few minutes.

That is, until you hear loud noises coming from outside the window of your back room. 

It makes you jump, at first. There’s yelling, and clashing of metal, and even screams. You quickly, yet quietly, make your way to the source of the sound. The back window faces the other side of Snezhnaya.

There isn’t a nice city street to gaze upon, but rather the isolating and barren landscape of the Snezhanayan mountains. You get close to the window, and even with minimal lighting outside, you can see that there are two groups of people having some sort of… battle. 

One group is being cornered against a large, snow-covered rock, while the other, which is much larger in size, approaches them. You realize that the more powerful group is unmistakably a Fatui squad.

There are a few agents, cicin mages, as well as a legionnaire and a vanguard. They’re massive, as well, but they’re forming a protective u-shape around someone. It must be their leader, you think, as the group seemingly follows each meticulous move from the center. You squint your eyes to get a better look at the group causing so much noise, but the darkness outside hinders your ability to get a clear look.

The vanguard lunges for the main leader of the smaller group, which you think is a band of treasure hoarders, and grabs at him. He turns the hoarder around by the back of the neck, where he’s now facing the Fatui group, about four inches off the ground as well. The Fatui leader gets closer to him, barking something unintelligible at the man before bringing his hand up to the neck of the hoarder.

The Fatuu swipes their hand across the man’s neck causing it to slit open. As the leader does so, you could swear that you saw a flash of purple-like lightning. The man’s throat opens and blood gets everywhere.  Everywhere. You put your hand over your mouth to cover a gasp as the vanguard drops the man to the ground, whose body is convulsing on its way to death. 

This is the first time you’ve seen someone die. Sure, you’ve beat some people up for commissions, even a treasure hoarder or two, but killed someone? Never, and you can’t see yourself doing so. It makes you feel nauseated to see how the man’s life was ripped away so fast. 

But you can't look away. You keep watching as the Fatui are signaled by their leader to ambush the rest of the hoarder group. You witness how they butcher each and every one of the smaller, weaker group. You see the hoarders being bashed by the vanguard’s hammer, slashed to pieces by the agent’s blades, and how cicins and frost are released by the mage and legionnaire. You want to look away, but your eyes remain glued to the scene. 

Their leader gets in on the action and is somehow more violent and bloodthirsty than the rest, despite being less muscular than the others. You can tell from here that the leader is a man, as well.

He begins to slash and stab using some sort of water-like sword, and you know that means he’s not just some Fatui soldier. He has a vision and a delusion, he must be a harbinger.

The blood of the hoarders soaks into the snow, a deep pool of crimson surrounding the entire scene. The Fatui group starts celebrating in victory as the last hoarder goes silent, and they turn around to head the opposite way. Since they now face your general direction, you attempt to hide yourself while still watching the group. They get closer and closer to the streetlights of the strip you live on, and you stay to see what exactly was going on. Their leader gets into a visible light first, and your eyes blow wide.

The leader has a disgusting grimace on his face, with eyes blown wide and a face of pure malice donning on him. His irises are so small you can barely see them, but rather, a sea of white paints over his eyes. He has a grin akin to the cheshire cat, each corner pulled to a supernatural looking upturn. It’s a face of nightmares, one so scary that it distracts you from the fact that the face belongs to

Tartaglia. 

You freeze in place.

No, absolutely no way. It cannot actually be him. There’s no way that the sweet, fun-loving Tartaglia you knew is the same man you were looking at at the moment. It couldn't be possible that the left cheek which is covered in a helpless man’s blood, was the same one that you softly brushed flour off of. The face that you woke up to this morning, the face you kissed this morning, was the same face that donned such a horrifying expression. The eyes that looked at your face with so much adoration, were unrecognizable as they were clouded over in a bloodthirsty haze.

You can’t believe it.

Out the fear of being caught, or pure weakness, you fall to the floor and out of the window's view. You can feel your dinner coming up from your stomach, but you physically cannot move. You’re shaking, you feel so numb that you can’t feel the multiple tears streaming out from your waterline and down your face. 

He didn’t just lie to you about his job, but he actively kept it from you. A harbinger one of the most dangerous and well-known individuals in all of Tevyat, has now been frequenting your bakery almost every day.

There’s no way people don’t know, right? More socially knowledgeable Snezhnayans visit your shop every day and must see you happily chatting to a Fatui Harbinger. 

It begins to make sense to you, even in a state of shock. His body being covered in scars, the fact that he never took you outside of the bakery, or how he always left in the early hours of the morning.

How many people has he killed? How many dark deeds has he done, and then come into your home to hold and kiss you as if nothing happened? 

And his face was so, so horrifying. Distorted to the point where it was almost unrecognizable to the person he’s spent almost every night with. His lightless eyes blown so wide, and even being in the darkness for so long, his pupils were almost invisible.

His smile, not that you could call it that, was so wide and full of pure bloodlust. And there was blood all over his face, the parts that you kissed, held, and brushed over with your thumb almost daily. It was in his mouth, as if he had internal injuries, and matted itself in his hair. The hair you love to brush through, grab at, and ruffle.

Your sobs are silent. At some point, you get yourself to your bathroom, where you sit beside the toilet in case you get sick after what you’ve seen. Through your choked sobs and curled up body, you feel exhaustion setting in. And eventually, with your back against the bathtub, you fall asleep against the cold tile. 

the next day

Today was a good day for Ajax. He got through with training his Fatui underlings before lunchtime, and quickly finished off his day with mandatory, though grueling, paperwork. He was working efficiently, but it was very quick-paced, even for him. He knows exactly why he was so quick in his actions today, too. He can’t deny it any longer, he’s fallen for a woman who runs a bakery.

He never thought he’d see the day. He thought his heart was too cold. He wouldn’t even say he had a heart, not after falling down and witnessing the horrors of the abyss. He cared for his family so deeply that the abyss couldn’t even take it away from him, but one other person in his heart? He couldn’t imagine a world where he could let another person into it. 

But now he’s living that reality. 

He's never felt the feeling of it outside of his immediate family, but he has to be sure about it. The feeling that warmed his frozen heart, is love. It has to be.

And it scares the 11th. 

It scares him how much he worries for you once he leaves your presence. It scares him how for the longest time, you acted as if you denied any idea of a future with him. It scares him when he thinks of you moving on from him, and finding someone else. But that recurring thought is more than fright, it brings on anger and anxiety. 

As he walks down the city, he thinks of the idea, and immediately brushes it off before his electro delusion sets off. Again.

He needs to tell you about his job, and soon.

It’s not like he intentionally meant to keep it from you from the start, it was Teucer who introduced you to Ajax through his stories, and Ajax had to keep that up around his brother. You just got caught in a protective lie.

And his name, you need to know it. He’ll give it a few more dates, Ajax thinks. He needs you in his future, without the lies and without the cover-ups.

It’s only 5:00PM, and he’s sure that he can get you to close the bakery early to go on your planned date with him. He’s wearing a more put-together and warm outfit than his usual uniform and even found himself double-checking his look in the mirror to look good for you. In his eyes, you’re so gorgeous, too beautiful for his tainted eyes to look upon. So, to try and get even get close to your level of beauty, he took some extra time in getting ready. 

He tightens his scarf around the bottom of his face. Man, the weather today is intense. Ajax begins to wonder whether going outside with you is the smartest idea. But it has to be, if it's what you want.

He’s always known that he wants to add to his family, regardless of whether he could ever love again or not. But now, he has someone he loves, and someone that he could see fitting in perfectly to his future. So he has to try, Ajax has to win the battle over your affections.

And if that means he has to be out in the cold, or anywhere else other than the comfort of your little apartment, he would stand out in the weather for thousands of hours. If it meant he could be with you.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he missed the bakery by a few steps. He quickly retraces them to the front door of the shop, and looks into the bakery from its large glass panes. You aren’t in there, or in sight at least, instead there’s a boy behind the counter. 

Oh hell no. 

He confidently enters the bakery and makes a bee-line to the front counter. 

“Welcome, is there anything I can help you with today?” He hears the man speak.

“Where’s Y/N?” Ajax asks with a friendly tone. But the glint in his eyes is nothing but friendly, instead, he’s staring down the man with dangerous eyes.

“Ms. Y/N is sick at the moment. If you need me to take a word for you, I’ll gladly tell her when she’s bett–”

“No,” Ajax barks at the boy before making his way behind the counter and to the door leading up to your home. He sees who he hopes is just your employee getting ready to defend your privacy, but Ajax just side-eyes him and scoffs before opening the unlocked door, and locking it from behind him.

He makes his way up the steps, as he begins to worry over your health. Sick? In the months he’s known you, you’ve never felt under the weather. Specifically, on the one day he was going to take you out and ask you to be something official with him. That can’t be intentional–right? Not after yesterday morning. 

He reaches the front door to your home, and hesitates to turn the knob. What if you’re too sick to see him, or you don’t want to see him? He finds how disgustingly dependent he is when it comes to you. 

He turns the knob, finding that it is locked. So he tries to knock, three separate times. On the third, he hears your voice. Oh thank the archons, you’re decent enough to speak. Though your voice is hoarse.

“Ivan? Is that you?” You respond from the other side of the door. Who the fuck is Ivan? 

He hears you unlock the door, and open it. He notices you before you notice it’s him, and you do look like you’ve been sick. Your hair is unkempt, and your eyes have darker circles around them, and they’re puffy. You’ve been crying. 

He’ll slaughter the person that made you this upset. 

But before he can say anything, you lock eyes with him, and sharply inhale through your teeth.

A gasp? Why are you

“How did you get up here?” You hiss at him. Your face is full of fear, as well. Ajax thinks of the thousands of reasons you could possibly be so alert, each possibility making him more anxious.

“Your door was unlocked! We were going out today... right?” He says with a nervous chuckle, trying to qualm whatever mood you were in.

“You can’t be in here,” You respond shakily, taking a step backward from him each second.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Ajax says, “Can we talk?” 

He closes the door behind him, against your wishes. His face is now as worried as yours is, yet you’re trembling in his presence. Your face is no longer looking at his, now it faces the floor. 

“You want to talk now?” Your face still looking at the floor, “Yet you didn’t want to tell me that you’re in the Fatui? That you are a harbinger?” 

Oh. 

“Y/N, I–”

“You what? Were you ever going to tell me?" You bark quietly.

He stays silent, so you continue.

"When were you going to tell me that when you weren’t with me, you were mercilessly slaughtering helpless people?” Your words are filled with venom, like you were condemning him with your statements. 

“Y/N, who told you about this?” He responds, his voice getting shaky itself. 

“Why? So you can go kill them too?” Your voice begins to raise before you take a deep breath, “I saw you! and you looked so- so…” 

“Y/N–”

“Stop it! Stop saying my name,” You yell at him, “If you wanted to keep this from me, you should maybe be quieter when you go and kill someone right outside of my home.” 

“I never meant to keep it from you,” He says, in a voice much quieter than your own.

“Last time I checked, a toy maker was a little different from being a harbinger, Childe.” 

The use of his Fatui alias shocked him. Have you just been mulling and researching over this all day? It’s unlike you, almost too unlike you. He never said that name, did he? Where did you get this information?

“A Toy-maker is what I use to keep what I do from my young brother,” He snaps, then realizing the tone he just took with you. He takes a deep breath and a pause before continuing, “I am so sorry. I really am, and I was going to tell you. But I can’t tell just anyone what I do.”

He knows the second it left his mouth, he knew he fucked up. 

“Just anyone,” You repeat with a small, pained smile, “you need to leave, now.” 

“No– Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that,” He responds, taking a step closer to you. You back away in fear, while simultaneously summoning a sword out of pure elemental energy. You bring your sword in front of you, as a means to protect you.

He stands back, out of respect and shock. You drew your weapon on him... something he never thought you'd do outside of a playful spar. His eyes widen at your gesture, as he puts his hands at his side.

“I am scared,” You almost whisper. He can feel his stomach drop when you mutter it, too. The one person, in all of Tevyat that shouldn’t be scared of him, just declared it right in his presence, "What am I supposed to do, Tartaglia? I mean, I don't even know your name!"

“You have no reason to be scared, you are one of the most protected citizens in this nation. Even when I’m not there, you’re still protected,” He tries to comfort you. But that didn’t work, because your eyes were blown wide at his confession. 

“What do you mean by that? Do you have people stalking me?” You yell at him, “Tartaglia I am scared of you. I was scared by what I witnessed. And I am scared of the face I saw on you last night," You spit out nervously. His heart cracks slightly, an unnerving and unfamiliar feeling.

"You enjoy it, don’t you? You enjoy stripping the lives away of others, I could tell. Honestly, Tartaglia, I would be okay with the whole Fatui thing, I would. But your face, and your smile, after killing someone? I don’t think I can–” You cut yourself off, “Please, just leave. I don’t want people watching me, so stop that too. You don’t need to come back either.”

He can’t find the words to explain himself any longer. He wants to scream that he loves you, and he never meant to keep anything from you.

But in a rare defeat, he begins to take steps backward toward the door. The entire time he gets closer to the door, he’s looking at you. He can see how a few tears escaped your eyes, and how the sword you’re holding is shaking along with your body at this point. 

“Alright Y/N,” He mutters quietly, before turning the knob and softly closing the door behind him. 

He could feel it physically, the heart he thought was no longer there, was breaking. He should’ve seen it coming, he had a few fleeting months of happiness, but all good things must come to an end for him.

⋆｡°✩a/n: this fic is actually anti—situationship propaganda >:). Thank you for reading, next chapter will be out soon!

⋆｡°✩tag list: @inlovewithlondonn @zamorazz @ay4tou @kur0melon @boomie-123 @esthelily @i-simp-for-giyuu @itsflowerdomethings @whatamidoing89 @luvrkise

[madstronaut]

featuring yet another within-bedside-table-reach favorite fic

obligatory alphalist link: https://www.tumblr.com/madstronaut/741107471699066880/faficowrimo-the-challenge-comment-on-every

Reading: Adrenaline Rush by @greatstormcat

if you, like me and about 90% of tumblr fandom, have a go-to imaginary bedtime scenario, this fic series is like right on my bedside table so to speak - within easy reach, i could like grope about without even looking and know where it is in my brain yes i know i basically say this about many fics ive read and guess wot just goes to show i have an addiction, yes i need professional help anyways carrying on

“You stop walking, you’re between the shadows of two vehicles now. The sky above is pitch black, broken up by stars that would look pretty under other circumstances.” i can picture this scene, as well as soap jovially wrapping his arm around my shoulders - I can also hear this scene, and it sounds like BOW CHICKA WOW WOW (im definitely dating myself if u don’t get it the phrase refers to what porn music sounds like)

“Your face turns red as you imagine people secretly masturbating after a mission.” yes, also me tbh. please for the love of god people STOP JUST CASUALLY ANNOUNCING OH YEAH WE’RE TRYIN FOR A BABY please I did not need to know that and i do not need this to be a socially acceptable way to declare you’re getting creampied on a nightly basis coughanywayjustasmolpetpeeveofmine

“Do ya trust me?” he asks with a wink.” i would hand over my imaginary firstborn (more liek let him put one in me) if soap did this to me 

also i know they're in like a humvee or a truck but my brain basically picturing this infamous titanic scene below:

at the risk of simply copypasting the whole fic while ranting and foaming at the mouth about how much i love it, the whole vibe of the fic is this perfect little snow globe of a story for me all wrapped up - such a delicious buzz balancing the safety/comfort of being in soap’s arms vs. the risk of being caught with soap’s fingers inside you 🥰 

getting into bullet points here so I can sleep lol but a few more favorite parts:

- soap letting reader lead!!! yes we love a king who can recognize and cede power to a queen 👑👑👑

- “hush keep it doon” 🥵🥵🥵

- all the little subtle intimate touches: setting against his chest between his legs, the thigh stroking, the little against the neck breaths and kisses, soap finishing reader’s sentence with his hands??!?!??

- “the ghost of kisses not quite given” 😍😍😍 

I honestly thought it was a hotter ending soap wanted zero reciprocation so to speak and let reader leave so he could take care of himself

anyway I wrote the above originally and then discovered two more parts to this series so literally screeched out loud (thank god I was working from home that day) but just wanted to highlight the original first fic because it’s really one of my favorites of our generous little scottish demo expert <3

[blueseachelle]

Off anon cause I want the world to know I'm a slut for Scanlan. Could you possibly write some little drabbles for him with a Druid reader? 👉👈 Since getting into the show ive seen exactly 2 NSFW fics of my frisky lil man and it upsets me greatly.

With a Druid reader! Awesome! I can do that! Let me know if you want anything else! I have a bunch of smut requests so, I'm gonna make this a fluff! I have some other Scanlan requests I put out AND I have currently requested! There will be more! I'm gonna assume that the reader will be female because it is not specified! Please let me know if you wanted GN! I

I Love You In All Forms

Scanlan X Druid! Reader Fluff

You are special to him. He would do anything to keep you by his side and he did just that. He made sure that you stayed close to him. He will help you no matter what. He vowed to himself that he would.

How the two of you met was in a fate sort of way.

-----

Scanlan decided to stray from the others for once to clear his head. Lots of stuff has been going on and he found his way out of the keep into the nearby woods. He wandered around before finding a rock by a cave to sit down. He took out his lute. Before he could strum one cord, a wyvern appeared out of the cave. A horrific roar was heard as Scanlan sat in shock at the sight before him. Before the wyvern could move, he started to lightly strum on his lute.

The wyvern seemed to pause at the musical noise that it heard, almost as if it was soothing its inner turmoil. He strummed a couple cords before singing softly to the beast in front of him. The wyvern laid down and just listen to him play.

When he finished, he looked at the wyvern in fear. Yet, there was nothing to fear. The wyvern just stared at him curiously. He reached a tender hand out to pet the beast,

"There, there. It's okay now. Scanlan is here to soothe your worries."

The wyvern nudged its head into his hand. They stayed like that for a while before the wyvern suddenly moved to wrap itself around the rock Scanlan was perched on. The wyvern curled around him and let out almost a purr as it did. Scanlan patted the wyvern's side before leaning back and falling asleep where he sat.

Throughout his nap, the wyvern protected him. It stayed in a half-asleep state just enjoying the presence of another creature. Little did Scanlan know, that the wyvern that was protecting him was actually a human.

You came from a line of strong Druids. Your abilities are like that of no other. Instead of encountering an animal, you could read about it and turn into it, be it a mythical or normal forest creature. But somehow before you were born, your bloodline was cursed. The curse was that if you become too powerful with your magic, you would stay in a state of a beast. The only way to escape this state would be "feel human again". Whatever that means, no one was yet to figure out this cure. You gave up fighting the state of a beast long ago. You were an Elf Druid. You lived many years of your life trying to find the answer to this curse but, to no avail. After a while, the beast took over, and you became a wyvern. Now, here you are. In the forest with a Gnome Bard and feeling soothed because of his lute. Finally, an answer you looked for but, your beast brain didn't realize it.

Scanlan shifted in his position. You came out of your meditative state and gently took your tail, being careful of the poison barb to move him from his rock and move him over slightly to be able to fully coil around him, not around that rock he sat on. Once positioned more comfortably, Scanlan let out a sigh and continued to sleep. He finally awoke around dusk. He looked around and realized you moved him. He shifted, you noticed and lifted your head and saw him awake. You nuzzled him and he smiled and let out a yawn,

"I didn't mean to wake you up, Bud. It's getting pretty late though. I should head back before the others start to worry about me."

You let out a slight growl while he stood up.

"I know, I know. But, I can't stay and I don't think you can come with me."

You sadly put your head down. He walked to and rubbed your horns.

"I know. It's gonna be okay. I'll play you one more song before I leave."

Scanlan started to strum his lute and he sang you another song. You listened and watched him carefully as he played. After he was finished, A blue glow emitted from you. He watched as you slowly shank into the form of a girl resting on the ground. He gasped in shock. It's a Druid. He carefully walked towards your unconscious body.

You laid perfectly still as he approached. Your wine-red hair lay perfectly under you. You had a little braid on the left side of her head. In the braid were some gold hoops. Her outfit was dark blue with scales periodically on the dress. She had a dark blue cloak to match the outfit she wore.

Scanlan stood and stared down at her. He knew she was a druid based on what just happened but, all the druids he knew didn't act animalistic in there beast forms to the extent she had. He wondered what made her so different than the rest.

He carefully knelt down and put a hand to her face. He felt her soft breath tickle his fingers. Good, she was alive. He moved the hand to her shoulder and gave her a gentle nudge,

"Hey. Hey. Are you okay? Wakey Wakey."

He shook her a few more times until she shot upright with a jolt. Scanlan instantly scooted back slightly at the sudden movement. The girl instantly locked eyes with him, his blue eyes locking with the now, humanoid version of the emerald wyvern eyes.

"You. You have brought me out of my form."

Scanlan just looked at her and nodded, mesmerized by her beautiful eyes. He couldn't part from them. It took you reaching a hand out to cup his cheek that snapped him out of it.

He stayed still as you cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes.

"My name is Y/n. I have been cursed to be damned in the form of a beast for the rest of my life but, You made me feel human again and broke me from my bondage."

Scanlan blushed,

"Human? How did I do that? All I did was sing you a song."

You slowly leaned in and kissed his other cheek. You backed up and locked eyes with him again, hand remaining on cheek,

"I would like the name of my savior, please."

He cleared his throat before saying,

"Scanlan. Scanlan Shorthalt."

-----

After that fateful day, you never left each other's side. You two fought, ate, drink, and slept together. Scanlan made sure to make you both exclusive to each other in relatively short time for him, about 6 months to be exact.

Since he was always afraid of commitment, it took a while but, what mostly pushed him into the leap of faith was that fateful day. He was your hero and made you human again. He knew that you would never leave or do anything to hurt him. He trusted you as much as you trusted him. He thought you shouldn't trust him at all but, you showed him your faith in him and he finally sorted his feelings out within himself.

He loves you with his whole heart. He knows that you have your moments of the beast stage, he softly will sing to you to coax you out of it. He always would sing this line somewhere in his songs to you.

I Love You In All Forms

A little bit of a short one but, let me know if you want a part 2! I sure can do that. I am taking requests so, remember to drop a request when you have the time! I hope you enjoyed this story! See you later!

[midorishinji]

Disappearing act - chapter XIII

Geto observed her more carefully, trying to decide whether she was being serious or not. — Killing non-sorcerers? — It's an option, but I don't take it seriously. Do you? — Yuki pressed him with a loaded question. Suguru Geto thought of them all — Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Riko, Kuroi, his parents, Satoru — and his chest filled with an unbearable pain, but also an incredibly monumental love, so much that it felt like it would stretch and burst at the seams of his heart that could not contain it. He thought of his father again, reading him "Night on the Galactic Railroad" when he was young, and he thought of Satoru reading his own copy now during his leisure nights. He thought of Giovanni and Campanella, and of the Scorpio of the night sky, and of the nobility of sacrifice, of setting yourself on fire to warm the world.

Satosugu ｜Finalized｜Long fic｜Also being published in Portuguese and on AO3

Chapters: I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI - XII - XIII - XIV - XV - XVI - XVII

Chapter XIII: it's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment

A week of forced vacation. Boredom had pushed Satoru to the limits of sanity: he had met his sleep quota for the year, played more sports than ever before, trained against every student at Jujutsu High until he got sick of it, finished every video game he had ever bought and hadn't played yet due to lack of time, and he even had started cooking as a hobby — and, to everyone's surprise, he turned out to be a good baker — and none of that could make him feel more comfortable with the abundant spare time he had.

Suguru had convinced him to read some of his books, and he devoured entire classic collections quickly, discussing the meaning of Natsume Souseki's symbolism in the most irritatingly pedantic way a person could. Nanami had tried to help him by offering to teach him how to play chess, a hobby that initially was challenging for Satoru, at least until he learned the most common moves and openings and became a competent chess player. Shoko hid inside the infirmary whenever he was around, because normally a visit from Gojo meant an entire afternoon discussing some sensationalist medical story full of half-truths that he found in some sketchy magazine, and that she would have to explain and demystify until they arrived at a reasonable truth. Haibara had initially taken advantage of his willingness to train, but Satoru's brutal pace and the difference in power levels between a grade two and a special grade sorcerer caused Shoko to have more work than ever, and she eventually banned this pastime.

If he couldn't do anything constructive, it could only mean he had a good opportunity to annoy others. The biggest victims, Megumi and Tsukimi Fushiguro and Mimiko and Nanako Hasaba, didn't think about saying no to the fancy impromptu day trips, but they were busy with their own school routines — and Suguru, like a good responsible person, forbade Gojo from taking them out of school to go to a maid café or to buy manga in Akihabara. Professor Yaga, who gave Satoru this punishment, avoided him and his incessant complaints and requests to be given some task, any task at all: after all, Satoru really was serious about carrying out any chore, including cleaning the floor of the sports court with a toothbrush, because boredom was consuming his brain. Another victim of his antics was the poor social worker who handled the case of the four children, at Masamichi's request, and who was reminded daily by phone call that Satoru Gojo would turn eighteen on December 7th, and that she better have the adoption papers prepared until then.

Suguru Geto quickly understood why Gojo spent all his salary: he had absolutely zero self-control, and gave in to any impulse to buy without thinking twice. Shopping filled his time, so Geto didn't mind paying for the mangas, video games, books, DVDs, and all kinds of crap Gojo felt like buying; action figures? Sure; a new lamp? No problem; a giant mirror for his bedroom? Go ahead and pick. Suguru tried to convince himself that it was just guilt for getting Satoru into this mess where they both ended up without a salary, but he couldn't help but feel a certain indescribable pleasure by spoiling him rotten, not when he saw Satoru smile so brightly because he bought a limited edition of a sticker album of his favorite anime.

It was a Friday, and the activity that occupied Gojo's mind since early morning was organizing a pre-birthday movie marathon — the creation of the “pre-birthday” concept had also been one of his ideas. He had spent the day convincing Shoko, Nanami and Haibara to participate in the film session in the dorm's common room and won them over with his insistence and enthusiasm. That was where the five Jujutsu High students were now, trying to choose their first movie.

No one agreed with any of the presented options, of course.

Shoko likes slasher horror films, but Haibara’s afraid of blood. Nanami likes thrillers and documentaries, but no one likes watching something that requires thinking this late at night, except for Geto. Haibara suggested a comedy movie and got hit with all the couch cushions at once. Satoru suggested an action movie, and Nanami answered by saying that he would rather go to sleep. Suguru then came up with the idea of a cinema classic, something that everyone knows and likes, and that was a democratic swoop: the idea pleased everyone, although no one agreed on which classic they should see.

— But what about “Grease”? — Satoru said, with the DVD in hand.

— Is it a musical? I hate musicals. — Kento grumbled — If someone started singing in front of me for no reason, I would probably commit a crime just to get out of it.

Gojo put the DVD away, taking another one from the shelf, without letting himself be shaken. — So what about “Saturday Night Fever”? This isn't a musical, it just has music...

— Why do all of your suggestions involve John Travolta? — Shoko asked.

He shrugged. — Ah, Suguru likes his films.

The comment went unnoticed by the others, but Geto quickly changed the subject. — I like the guy, but it doesn't matter to me, it doesn't need to be one of his films. How about “The Godfather”? It's a trilogy, even, we could watch all three...

— Huh… I still vote for “Silence of the Lambs”. — Shoko said.

Haibara was against it. — Too much blood, yikes. Let’s see something light-hearted, like “Titanic”! Or “Romeo and Juliet”, or “Love Letter”...

This time, it was Satoru who was against it: — But “Love Letter” is so sad…! You know what, that’s enough, let's watch “Back to the Future” like I said ten minutes ago and that's it. — he said, taking the DVD of the American film out of the shelf and putting it inside the DVD player. As the only one still standing, he turned off the lights and sat down on the couch, next to Suguru, tired of being the mediator in the arguments. The opening credits rolled while the audience watched, silently.

(...)

The third film of the night, “Silence of the Lambs,” was playing on the television at low volume. After Nanami was the first to sleep, still halfway through the second film, and soon after Haibara also fell asleep, and Shoko felt free to choose what she wanted, considering that the other people awake were precisely the least demanding. Despite this, she had left the room to have a late-night snack, even though the film continued playing, halfway through.

— Hey. — Suguru whispered, getting closer to Gojo — Since when do you watch romance movies, Satoru?

— Me? Nah, I don’t watch them. — the other replied, putting a handful of buttered popcorn in his mouth.

— But you said “Love Letter” is sad, how do you know then?

— Oh, it's because I’ve watched that one. — Satoru said, drawing a sigh of frustration from Geto — But it was Utahime's thing. She wanted to watch something, and she only watches romance movies, and she picked this one.

Geto raised one of his eyebrows. — And when was that?

— Last year, during the school event with Kyoto, don't you remember? It was the day you went out to visit some museums, or whatever. The two of us stayed back at Kyoto High.

— Oh.

Silence.

Suddenly, Satoru Gojo opened a huge grin of pure amusement. — Wait a minute... Are you jealous of Utahime? Is that right?

Geto seemed insulted by that insinuation: of course not! Why should he be jealous, anyway? Satoru was free to do whatever he wanted, with whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and that included watching romantic movies with a girl; and, knowing Iori Utahime as he did (a person who liked to appear tough, but who actually had a soft heart), he was also free to offer his shoulder for her to cry on... And, knowing Satoru Gojo as he did, he knew that he wouldn't offer just the damn shoulder. What a miserable little… — Of course not, that’s bullshit… — Suguru replied, whispering between his teeth, feeling his facial muscles become more tense and locking his jaw in a tight position, even without meaning to.

The reaction only increased the almost childish amusement Gojo felt. — Really? Doesn't seem like it.

— You’re reading too much into it. I'm just thinking of how Utahime could handle spending an entire afternoon with you, considering you're insufferable. — Geto said, being careful not to raise his voice. The more he talked, the more he realized how clear it was that he was jealous of Satoru, and that was ridiculous, he shouldn't feel like that. Biting his tongue, he stopped himself from speaking any further to avoid showing how he truly felt.

— Just like you enjoy spending time with me. — Satoru teased him, sticking out his tongue — By the way, why don't we watch “Love Letter” then, the two of us? Another day, not today because it's already pretty late.

Suguru didn't want to give in, even if he was interested. — What is it about, anyway?

— It's the story of this girl, Hiroko, who loses her fiancé in an accident in the mountains. On the anniversary of his death, she finds his old address in his high school yearbook so she sends a letter to that address, and receives a reply. But she doesn't know that the person who responded is the girl her fiancé was in love with at the time, who coincidentally also had the same name and surname as her fiancé, Itsuki Fujii, and she doesn't even know that this Itsuki girl is identical in appearance to her. They continue exchanging letters about the guy they both loved, and… — Gojo interrupted himself — I won't tell you the rest either, otherwise I'll just spoil everything.

— Let’s watch it then. — Geto agreed.

—But just the two of us. It's pretty sad, so if you end up crying, I’ll understand... — Satoru said, very diplomatically.

Suguru Geto realized that perhaps he had misjudged him... Maybe it wasn't Utahime who burst into tears over a movie, but a certain idiot who was more sensitive than he liked to let on, and who never talked about romance or love because he kept everything to himself. — Right… You're funny, Satoru. Have you ever fallen in love with someone, by the way?

— I have.

The answer, short and honest, resonated in the room for a few seconds.

— When I watched that movie with Utahime, I was pretty weirded out for a while, thinking about it... Because either you stay with the first person you fell in love with, or you spend the rest of your life looking for them in other people. I think that’s kind of scary. — Satoru said, eyes focused on the film.

Geto swallowed hard, wondering if that was true. The more he thought about the type of person he liked, the more he realized he had a very, very specific type, and that revelation was like a punch to his stomach.

— But what about you, Suguru? Have you ever fallen in love with someone?

Before he could answer the question, Shoko returned to the room, carrying a plate with a sandwich, and that was enough to end the matter definitively. Geto mentally thanked Shoko's unexpected return, because it stopped him from having to answer that yes, he was in love with someone, and he was trying to confront that feeling inside him.

[stevethehairington]

🌿🍭🤲🧿

hiiii ty for sending this in!!

🌿how does creating make you feel?

so so sooooo good. like, when the words are flowing well and this tiny lil idea i had once is now turning into this fully fledged thing, it's just like. idk kind of magical. like I made this. I put these words down, in this order, and made these things happen. and I made people feel that thing because of it!! that's a powerful feeling!!

🍭why did you start writing?

because i had a story to tell! i had a story i wanted to fix, i had a story i wanted to continue, i had a story i wanted to create. i've always been good with words in the creative sense, and i've always enjoyed writing little stories as a kid. so it's only natural that that translated into my teenage and adult years too. it's fun to me, it gives me a creative outlet, it's something to do, it gets me validation lol.

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

so much!!! ive said it a few times now but it's my creative outlet! it gives me a space to like explore concepts that rotate around my brain, it's something i can project my hopes and dreams and wishes onto, it's something i can channel my feelings into. it gives me a sense of accomplishment, when i finish something, and it gives me validation when i post and people like it and comment on it. writing has also given me some of my best friends, too. through it i've met so many wonderful people, and i've made some amazing connections and i will ALWAYS be grateful for that.

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

ha. hahahaha, yeahhhh this is a tough thing to do sometimes. like. ough. okay. ngl i am actively trying not to take certain things personally when it comes to writing. lol. it's hard! it's hard because, like, there's no explanation for why things are the way they are or why people say certain things or why people flock towards one thing over the other. it's hard not to make that (most times false!) connection that it has anything to do with you/your writing.

the best thing i can think of to do in these situations is to a. give yourself some distance and b. find someone you trust that you can talk to about it!

stop looking at the ao3 stats page, don't look at how many notes your post got, close that fic that isn't doing too well, take a break from that server that's bringing you down, unfollow that person that's saying things that are making you feel bad. like, you have to take care of yourself! and sometimes out of sight, out of mind is the best way to do that. and then finding someone you can talk to also helps because like sometimes you just get really in your head about things, and you need someone who had an outside perspective to remind you that it isn't like that, and that you are still good.

for things that aren't doing as well as i'd like them to, i also like to remember that, like, i am writing for myself first and foremost. so if other people don't like it, that doesn't matter. because i like it. and i know this is a lot harder to do than it seems, trust me, but like if you keep repeating that to yourself it does start to set in. ALSO, instead of focusing on how many people aren't reading it, i focus on how many people have read it. 20 kudos is still 20 sets of eyes on your work!! and like if you think of it like youre sitting in a room and 20 people come in, that's gonna be a crowded room! that's a lot of people! and THOSE people read your fic! THOSE people liked it! so like, focusing on what you have been given instead of what you didn't get helps.

let's get REAL - fic writer asks

[saving-word-crawls]

Feverwake Word Crawl

By: EliThorne

Hello! I’ve been sitting on this word crawl for two years, but I was SUPER into Victoria Lee’s Feverwake duology for a couple years. I made this one before the second book came out, so it only covers The Fever King (also the crawl contains some vague-ish spoilers). Enjoy, and tell me how you do!

Step 1: Survive

An outbreak of the magic virus has swept through your neighborhood. You catch it and are quarantined in the red ward. Do a 15-minute writing sprint. The number of words you write determines whether or not you survive.

150-200 words you spend 3 weeks in the red ward

201-300 words you spend 2 weeks in the red ward

301-400 words you spend 1 week in the red ward

If you write more than 400 words, you recover quickly, and you’re so powerful that you can skip or avoid the penalty for a future challenge.

If you write less than 150 words, you die, and you must restart the challenge.

Step 2: Your Presenting Power

You’ve survived the virus, and somehow your antibody titers qualify you for Level IV. Congratulations? But you still need to figure out your presenting power when you don’t even know how to use magic yet.

Write for 20 minutes to determine your presenting power.

Less than 150 words = Increasing oxidation of rust by a factor of 2

150-249 = Changing the size of objects

250-349 = Water manipulation

350-499 = Telepathy or technopathy (you choose)

500+ = Your choice

Step 3: Remedial Lessons

It’s your first day in the barracks, and it turns out you’re further behind than you thought. Minister Lehrer has offered to teach you himself, but you still need to catch up. Your writing speed determines how quickly you get to join your peers in regular classes.

Grab the nearest book and check how many pages it has. Write that many words.

If you reach your goal in less than 10 minutes, you’re basically a genius, and now everyone knows it. You manage to cram your brain with knowledge in a week, and you can skip or avoid the penalty for a future challenge.

If you take more than 10 minutes, get ready for some all-nighters.

Step 4: Meet Your Classmates

Now it’s time to meet the rest of Level IV: Ames, Taye, Bethany, Dara, and Noam. Some of them seem standoffish while others welcome you right away. Roll a die 1 to determine how many of them actually want to be your friend, then multiply that number by 100. Write that many words.

Note: If you roll a 6, you can skip or avoid the penalty for a future challenge.

Step 5: First Lesson

You still can’t believe you’re being tutored by Minister Lehrer. It seems too good to be true. Noam and Dara are there, too, and you marvel at their feats of magic. Meanwhile, you’re stuck in the back of Lehrer’s office doing physics problem sets.

Set a random number generator for numbers 10-50. The number you get is how many p-sets you have to do before the end of the lesson. Multiply that number by 10 and that’s how many words you need to write. If you finish early, you might even impress Lehrer.

Step 6: Your Old Neighborhood

After a week of getting used to the barracks, you use your first off weekend to visit your old neighborhood. The section where you lived has been roped off, but you head to the Migrant Center and talk to Linda and Brennan.

Do a Fifty-headed Hydra while you talk as fast as you can to convince Brennan to let you volunteer for the day.

Step 7: Poker Night

You don’t have enough money to join Dara’s poker game, but Noam convinces them to let you join, anyway. You learn pretty quickly that Ames and Dara both cheat, but Dara always wins. Why did you want to play with them again?

Choose a random card from this deck, or shuffle a physical deck and draw a random card. Multiply the number by 100 and write that many words.

Aces count as 1s.

Face cards use their corresponding numbers (Jack=11, Queen=12, King=13).

If you draw the Joker, you cheat and beat Dara. Write 50 words.

Step 8: Honing Your Magic

Your lessons with Lehrer are progressing well, and he’s finally decided that you can start learning other types of magic. You start with something simple…or something that’s supposed to be simple—telekinesis. You just have to move a coin across the table.

Your skill with telekinesis—and the number of words you write—depends on your presenting power.

Telepathy/technopathy: You have a natural aptitude for learning magic and you pick up new powers quickly. You fling the coin into Lehrer’s wall so it leaves a mark, but he’s not mad. Write 100 words.

Water manipulation: Physics isn’t your strong suit, but you don’t have too much trouble. Write 250 words before you spill Lehrer’s whiskey.

Changing object sizes: You accidentally grow the coin so large it crushes Lehrer’s fancy table. Write 400 words.

Rust oxidation: You can’t move the coin on the first day, so Lehrer sends you off with more physics homework. Write 500 words.

If you chose your own power, you moved the coin on your first try and Lehrer ended your lesson early. Choose your word count, too (or use a random number generator).

Step 9: Breaking into the Government Complex

You’ve been trying to figure out how to use your power for the greater good, and you think you have an idea. But to execute it, you’ll need to get into the government complex, and you’re not allowed in without supervision. Noam is all too happy to help you there but while you’re looking for the information you need, the alarm goes off.

Set a word count goal for the next 10 minutes, and use the Write or Die app to meet it. If you reach your goal, you make it out just in time. If not, bad luck. You get caught by General Ames.

Step 10: Visiting the Minister

You found some pretty incriminating dirt on Sacha while you were snooping in the government complex, and after Lehrer bailed you out, you owe it to him to share it. You visit his apartment that night to tell him, only to find Dara there, too. While Lehrer makes you both chamomile tea, Dara warns you against telling Lehrer your intel, and you get in an argument over it.

Do a word war with a friend. If you win, you ignore Dara and tell Lehrer. If you lose, things get awkward and you make up some other reason for visiting at this hour.

Step 11: The Protests

You’re walking around West Durham and considering getting some hours in at the Migrant Center when you stumble into an anti-Sacha protest. Your friends from your old neighborhood are there, and you join the fight with them. Things escalate, and soon, you find yourself in a jail cell with other protestors.

Write 1000 words. The amount of time it takes you is how long it takes Lehrer to show up and get you out.

Step 12: Party at the Ames Residence

Well, this is awkward. Somehow you got roped into attending a party at Ames’s house with Dara and Noam. You all end up in Ames’s bedroom talking and doing shots of tequila. While the alcohol takes effect, listen to your favorite song (or a random one from your writing playlist) and write until you have to go back downstairs.

Step 13: Take a Break

It’s time to have some fun with your Level IV classmates! You haven’t really been able to hang out lately, so why not get to know them a little better? Roll a die to find out who you’re spending time with.

1-Noam: What is free time? You go with Noam to volunteer at the Migrant Center and learn more about hacking than you ever needed to know. Do a Fifty-headed Hydra and try to keep up.

2-Dara: It was either go to the club in Raleigh or play Poker all night. Do a word war with a friend. If you lose, do a second one. If you win, you can skip or avoid the penalty for a future challenge.

3-Ames: You can’t hang out with Ames and not party. Find your favorite playlist and write for the length of five songs.

4-Taye: Taye regales you with tales of vintage slang. Use a random number generator set from 1-500 to find out how many vintage words he told you—and how many words you have to write.

5-Bethany: Bethany doesn’t mind staying in. Open to a random page in the nearest book and check the page number. Write that many words.

6-All of them: Do the challenges for all of the characters.

Step 14: Trapped in Faraday

The fun’s over. Lehrer’s coup is in full swing, and you’ve somehow found yourself trapped in a room made of copper—a Faraday shield that prevents you from using your magic. Do a 20-minute word sprint while you think of a way to break yourself out.

Step 15: During the Coup

You manage to get out of Faraday, but you don’t know what’s going on. People are rioting, military personnel are stationed all over the city, and you’re beginning to doubt Lehrer and his methods. Write 500 words in 30 minutes with the Write or Die app while you frantically search for someone you know and try to get to safety.

Step 16: Save Dara

You find Noam later, and he’s on his way to Lehrer’s apartment to rescue Dara. As you suspected, Lehrer isn’t who you thought he was. Once you get to Lehrer’s apartment, you find out that Dara’s under persuasion and can’t leave. Do a word war with a friend as you fight to get Dara out of the apartment before Lehrer gets there.

Step 17: Into the QZ…or Not

You’ve all escaped the apartment, but Lehrer is right behind you and gaining fast. You’re not even sure where you’re going, until Dara begs you and Noam to send him into the QZ. You don’t have time to overthink it. The three of you make it to the Migrant Center, where Linda gets a car for Dara to escape in. Now you have to decide—do you go with him?

Use a random number generator set from 1-300 to find out how many words you have to write. You have 10 minutes. If you reach your goal in that time, you go with Dara and escape into the QZ. If you don’t, you stay in Carolinia with Noam.

Congrats! You’ve reached the end of the story! Did you stay with Noam or go with Dara?

[autisticbillpotts]

dont want to be a human with a job, dont want to sleep, want to think about fictional characters

idk if tbs is going to end up having the sticking power in my head for me to consider it a special interest but hoo boy am I thinking about nothing else right now ! like uh to the point Ive had to stop myself a couple times cause I realised I was getting so intense about it I was driving towards a panic attack lol ✌️

torn completely between actual thoughtful analysis and just being like :3 caleb drinks green tea with honey + has anger issues hes just like me fr

but also it makes me insane Ive been thinking a LOT about how the characters treat damien especially in contrast to how rose and caleb also having manipulative abilities is percieved like its the whole thing about only respecting neurodivergent people if theyre nicey-likable-personable. rose immediately ditching damien even though he doesnt even have his powers anymore simply on the word of strangers is completely fucking mental to meeee every time joan calls someone a psychopath I get sooo mad like what! shes a therapist.. BUT ALSO deeply compelling fucked up way for people to behave and like I get it but also! I get him! I want to be his friend. also helens

Ive genuinely been enjoying tct less than the main show because there are noooooo women in it. despite the fact that I just did a caleb-eps-only relisten and that hes my favourite little guy and it does make me dizzy levels of giddy. but theres no women! complete turnaround from the immensely invigorating fucked up dynamic in tama between sam/joan/helen/anabelle that shit was SO good. even if I did spend the whole thing waiting for them to acknowledge that It Was All Joans Fault cause that would have made it all extra fucked up. SO much fun listening to variously traumatised and stressed out women play mind games and fuck each other over love that.

okay new train of thought I have not been able to stop thinking about caleb + perception since I started listening which ffjdjv was only a month ago whoop. but the way he sees himself vs how strangers vs his friends see him (and then now Im thinking about how thats changed in tct which I am actually not finished with yet) but like! loner who avoids parties and doesnt have any friends vs star athlete vs literal empath vs Meathead vs the big brother vs how adam talks about him vs Jock vs Nice Young Man vs ARGH I love him

also I love joan. shes soooo fun and also hot like hi dr bright r u single I like ur morals warped by recieving the approval youve sought ur entire life and ur single minded dedication to protecting people + inability to prioritise around that devotion. I like when she is catty and mean with people and ALSO when she is being very silly and smart. teasing sam and the balance in her relationship with vanessa and also the uh zachvalenticharacter episode. and her rage. LOVE her rage. and that shes silly and obsessive and scientifically minded and likes musicals and puzzles and how hard it is for her to turn off therapist brain. shes so so good I like when she does bad things because she Just Wants To Help but forgets other people are people when shes too focused on something.

my brains stopped working now Im stopping this post here. at some point I will become capable of eloquence Im sure

actually no do you hear me damien cant trust any interaction he has with another person do you hear me!!! hragh

[rarepairnation]

for the ao3 wrapped!! 1, 6, 28! (also you are not alone in believing you can finish one more thing. i am also doing that :P)

happy (newly i guess, for u!) new year anna!!! waving at u NOT from the google doc! we did it! we finished the one more thing! [ao3 wrapped]

1. How many words have you written this year?

nearly 14k (13,924 to be exact) published and at least 6-7k more of wips! tragically my least prolific year since uhhhhhhhh a long time. 2017? but thats ok it was a hard year all that matters is that i survived<3 im proud of myself for what i did bc im in that kinda moment where im relearning how to write and reengaging the creative part of my brain. and next year will be better!! i have a lot of plans and a wip list as long as a cvs receipt<33

6. Favorite title you used

this one is actually your body drowning in gravity! i havent reread it in a long long while (aside: wow i was a totally different person when i wrote that (i published it jan 3)) bc my brain has temporarily been caught by other things. but it was an idea that i'd been turning over in my head for over a year at the time when i wrote it and i think i saw the richard siken poem that the title is from (it's "the dislocated room" btw) on my dash in the middle of the writing process and it was like. Perfect. like i choose all my titles very carefully but this one really knocks it out of the park. when the fic is literally about tanner thinking mallory is the one that's fallen from the top of the cns building at the end of spectre and not knowing until the body hits the ground.

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

OUGHHH this is hard. Ough. ok i DO think it's just so long as this thing's loaded. im chronically an "i wrote this for me but you can read it if you want" guy bc i have rarepair disease. if i want to read it i have to be the one to write it. but this fic was really an exercise in like. getting weird with it. remembering that u cannot judge ur creation by any possible bad faith interpretation of it. letting myself write the kind of wildly unhinged horny possessive devotion that eats the inside of my brain but ive never been able to put on the page bc of the Fear of like ohhh that would be sooo bad in real life. dude theyre. not real. idk im not good at that sort of thing the panopticon inside my mind is sometimes kind of crazy. but like yeah actually they do think the power dynamic is hot. yeah nick made jasper fake betraying him obviously here is this situation where jasper comes back to nick after his faked death and both of them are pretending not to know the betrayal wasn't real. its just roleplay 2 them. sorry to quote a line in this already extremely long answer but like "The only thing he wants to keep is right here at his side and hasn’t that been the point of all of this, the knife to his throat and the blood in his kiss and the slow simmer of barely leashed desire. Jasper has come to him like this, the traitor slinking his guilty way home, to show Nick the lengths to which he would go for him. To which he has always gone for him, giving up everything to play Nick’s triple agent, just what the Director ordered." is literally the thesis statement of the whole thing. Anyway

also its the kind of fic where every line is trying to be The Line which...is a quirk of my writing style that comes out every now and then that im usually (for good reason tbh) always trying to cut back on. but this...Needed It. sometimes the prose DOES need to be purple. and i had fun. it was really fun dude lol i had a great time

[purplelupins]

Bad Moon Rising

|The Quarry|

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Sheriff Travis Harkett x fem!reader

Summery: Two years after the curse was ended, you find yourself on your way to the small town of North Kill. It was all because of a favour to your grandparents, but this simple trip to look after their summer cabin during the winter became more than what you bargained for when you found yourself smitten with the curmudgeon of a sheriff.

Warnings: swearing, self-loathing, the beginnings of nsfw content

This is a NSFW story, minors DNI

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Directly across from the front door on the other side of the house were the glass doors to the back yard. Now while that was a little unnerving at times on its own -especially in the dark when shadows played with you- now as you stood there, you felt a fright that you hadn’t expected.

An icy shiver ran down your spine when you saw the doors wide open and knocking against their frames; rain spilling inside. A million possibilities ran through your head as toy stood there for a total of ten seconds, but you forced your rational and logical brain to lead the way. You took a deep breath and slowly backed out of the house. Without taking your eyes off those doors, you grabbed the umbrella by the doorway that you had forgotten that morning, and turned out to the driveway to see if the sheriff had left yet.

Sure enough, his cruiser was still sitting right there idling. You could see him watching you from there, and your veins flooded with relief. Before you could tell yourself to stop being afraid of some open doors, you quickly ran back down and you immediately saw him sit up straight and open his door.

You brought the umbrella over his head as he leaned out to you.

“Something wrong?” He asked, his face the epitome of concern as he took in your worried face.

You sighed and nodded- you knew your fear must have showed when that line between his brows deepened. The sheriff was already half out of the car before you began explaining. Evidently your shaking form and constructed pupils were enough for him.

He’s the sheriff of course he’s worried…

“It might just be the storm, b-but the back doors are wide open and I always lock them…d-do you think you could just check the house?” You hated how your voice shook. It was so silly- you must have just forgotten to lock them. But you had seen enough horror movies to know that it’s better safe than sorry.

But you didn’t even finish your sentance before he was walking with you to the steps. “I would suggest you remain by the front door, ma’am.” He said firmly, “Lock the doors that have opened and the front one after we’re inside. If someone’s in there we don’t want them leaving before I get to them.”

Travis stared down at you, and he had to dig his nails into his palms to keep from reaching out to you. He wanted to help you and let you know you were safe with him; when your eyes stared up into his, he hated to admit that it made him feel like the most powerful, important person in the world. With you looking at him like that, he would do everything in his power to keep you away from harm.

“S-sure.” You stuttered, doing as he said, “Thank y-you.”

The older man nodded to you, and closed the door; the sound echoed through the house, and made you jump ever so slightly. You hoped he didn’t notice how nervous you were.

He did.

Just as he had told you, you walked to the glass doors and latched them shut with a little struggle that made Travis smirk to himself.

As Sheriff Hackett took a few steps inside, he unsnapped the cover to his gun for better access, and you hated that it made you warm. You mind must have been so mentally fried for you to react in such a way. At least that’s what you told yourself.

You watched him quietly make his way through the house. His steps were so light and sure that you found yourself transfixed on him; once he did an initial sweep of the lower floor he called out, “Police! Anyone in this house had better come out now with your hands up before I find you.”

By the sound of his tired, rough voice, he must have been in the living room. Your eyes darted around from your place by the front door; small shadows in the corners of your eyes kept making you jump.

Finally, his footsteps began coming back towards you and he gave you a look-over before continuing upstairs. You watched him until he disappeared down the hall, and as he covered more and more of the house, your worry began to dissipate.

You heard the crackle of his radio as he moved to the opposite end of the upstairs, and you slowly began undoing your coat and stepping out of your boots. Shivers began to shake you as the adrenaline wore off, and you heard the sound of the sheriff’s shoes descending the stairs.

“There doesn’t seem to be any threat in the house, ma’am. If someone did come through here they’re gone.” He said, coming to stand by the front door as he snapped the pistol cover back into palace.

You nodded as you hung up your coat, and rubbed your arms, “T-th-thank yo-you, Sheriff Hackett.” You said through your chattering teeth.

The sound instantly made Travis snap his gaze to you. He took inventory of the tremor in your arms and hands, the loss of colour in your pretty face, and your inability to speak normally.

You saw him regard you for a second, and his brows pinch together. “You caught cold.” He said a-matter-of factly

You laughed and nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself, “Th-that’s what-what I get for n-not listening to myself.” You said with a shrug. “I-I’ll start a fire and g-get warm…do-don’t worry about me.” You looked away from him, not able to hold his stare.

Travis might have been less than pleased with the fact that you had been playing with him -or so he thought- but seeing you in such a state made his eye twitch.

Setting a fire with tremors in your hands strong enough to start an earthquake?

Absolutely not.

He sighed.

“Go get dry. I’m not letting anyone start a fire in this condition.” He said firmly, already slipping off his shoes before walking past you into the large living room. You stared after him in shock, but he didn’t leave any room for you to protest.

So you did as he said.

Once in your room, you peeled off your soaked clothes and found a comfortable shirt and sweatpants; you dried your hair to the best of your ability, and by the time you were done, your teeth had stopped chattering. You cursed yourself for not doing laundry the day before, but in your foggy, cold mind you figured it didn’t matter too much if you didn’t wear anything underneath.

Once you padded your way downstairs, you had to hide your shy smile when you saw the sheriff crouched in front of the fireplace, poking at a log as the flames crackled impressively.

You got lost in watching him, and forgot that he could see you. He turned back to you and stood slowly, his joints probably aching from being in the difficult position. Hell you were about half his age and you ached from bending over.

Travis had spotted you as soon as you entered the room. He spent an extra moment kneeling, and stabbing that damn log to get his frustration out just to gather himself; he could barely stand how adorable you looked in those pants that were too big and that sweatshirt that he could clearly see your nipples through-

“Better?” He asked, staring down at his hands as he dusted them off.

“Much. Thank you again.” You said a little absentmindedly. You were painfully aware of the fact that he wouldn’t look at you.

Did I do something…? Oh god he must be annoyed with me asking for him to check the house…maybe I could make him some-

Before you could finish your thought, the man nodded, and began to walk towards you, “Stay warm. Don’t go out until the storm ends.” He said, passing by you without even glancing in your direction.

He was leaving.

Your brain grew desperate at the thought. You wanted to keep him there just a little longer. You just wanted to talk to him, know him.

“Are you going?” You asked so quietly. You hoped he didn’t hear that you were upset.

But he did.

And it just about knocked the wind out of him.

“Yes, ma’am.” He replied, setting his jaw.

Leave, old man. She’s just toying with you.

“Can’t I make you some tea? You helped me so much I feel bad for you to just go back out into the storm.” You trailed after him.

“It’s my job.” He said, already halfway to the door.

He’s mad at you and he’s not going to come back…

“Sir, just wait the storm out a little. It’s dangerous out there.” You tried to reason with him.

He huffed and shook his head, “You get used to it, ma’am.”

The way he said that made you wonder if there was a double meaning to his sentence; perhaps being used to beings along? You knew nothing was getting through to this man. And you felt your heart grow restless. You didn’t even know that you wanted him to stay so badly until one word left your lips.

“Please…?” You whispered. As the word left your mouth, you weren’t sure if it was you who said it. It was so soft and hopeless that you didn’t recognize your voice.

You had never begged someone to stay.

And Travis had never had someone beg him.

Finally, he paused.

The sheriff turned and put his hands on his hips as he stared down at your form, and you suddenly felt very small. Your eyes nervously flicked from his as they burned into your skin, to inanimate objects in the house that were suddenly fascinating.

His face was firm, and his mouth was set in a line as he thought.

The nervousness in your face started to make him second guess himself.

What if she actually-

Dammit Travis get your ass out the door.

“Ma’am, I really…”he started, but his words died right there when you looked at him as he spoke. Were your eyes always that big? His heart twisted and his gut felt hollow.

You’re weak Travis.

He sighed, not meeting your eyes, and wiped a hand over his face, “Fine. One cup.” He said, and you nearly cried with joy.

He’s going to stay! Don’t mess this up y/n…

You made your way into the kitchen, and quickly lit the propane stove to boil the kettle. You were so happy that you didn’t even stop to see if he was following you.

“What kind of tea do you like? I have Earl Grey, Jasmi- oh!” You jumped when you turned to the door, and saw that he was leaning against the island. “Sorry…I thought- never mind. Um…do you have a preference? Or do you want coffee? I have some great hot chocolate too.” You asked, unconsciously wringing your hands as you thought.

“Whatever you like.” He said simply, crossing his arms. His face was indifferent, and you wondered if he even wanted to be there. It seemed like your attempt to make contact with him was not going as well as you had hoped.

Travis, however, was in a violent internal battle with himself.

He liked you. Far too much. With your soft voice, and that smell that clung to you that reminded him of life before…everything.

And god…those touches you shared…

At his simple answer, you nodded and decided on jasmine. You focused on anything but the tremors in your hands, and found yourself glancing at his heavy utility belt still slung around his narrow hips.

“I don’t know if you’re allowed but you can take off that belt- it looks uncomfortable…I promise I won’t attack you.” You said as lightheartedly as you could.

He quirked an eyebrow.

You immediately regretted saying anything, and you went back to making the tea, not daring to look at him.

Well done y/n. Just make an idiot out of yourself why don’t you?

You heard him leave the kitchen, and you hoped he wasn’t leaving the house after your idiotic comment. Your ears burned as you listened for the sound of the front door, but it never came.

The tea stared back at you from the two cups, and you mentally slapped yourself for not asking if he wanted anything in it. For safe measure, you put a little milk in each before walking back into the living room.

As soon as you stepped inside, a warmth spread across your cheeks and down your neck. On the end of the coffee table was his belt- pistol and all. He was sat with his arms crossed, staring out at the window. Your poor heart began beating against your ribs furiously.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked anything in it so I put a little milk, is-is that okay?” You asked, sitting beside him, and placing his cup on the table.

“That’s fine, thank you.” He said, leaning forward to take it.

You both sat quietly for a moment, staring out the big window that showed the thick forest that swayed in the wind. It was like there was some sort of elephant in the room that neither of you wanted to address; you had a million things you wanted to ask him, but until you talked about the reason behind you having him sit on your couch, tea in hand all because you begged him, your conversation was going nowhere.

“You really saved me today, sir.” You murmured after a minute.

He sighed.

“Wasn’t a problem, ma’am.” He replied, taking a sip. Everything he did was so…practised.

This man didn’t know how to take a compliment. He had really out his neck out for you, and here he was brushing it off.

You thought back to him checking through the house; how sharp his eyes had been, how careful his steps were.

He cared. Whether he cared a lot or a little didn’t matter. The fact that he wanted you safe - on more than one occasion- was enough to make a little adrenaline pump through you.

“Y/n.” You said, a little emboldened.

Travis looked over at you, a little caught off guard.

“I’m no ma’am…just call me y/n.” You whispered simply.

The older man sucked in a breath, but didn’t nod or say anything. You would see how set his jaw was as he thought. You wished you could have climbed inside him to see what was eating him alive-

“Did you mean it?” He asked finally.

It was your turn to pause. You weren’t expecting him to say a word let alone ask a question.

“Mean what?” You replied, genuinely confused.

Travis glanced at you from the corner of his eye and regretted it immediately when he saw your brows all scrunched up.

Does she have to do that?

He wanted so badly to kiss that crease that formed there.

“What you said, that morning.” He said quickly.

Oh.

Your cheeks warmed up when you remembered exactly what you had told him. A part of you had hoped he forgot about it, but clearly not.

You nodded, “Every word, sir.”

Finally, Travis looked over at you and while you wished his face would relax, it didn’t. If anything, he looked almost pained.

And he was. Travis was torn apart under his skin as the full weight of his infatuation settled on his shoulders.

The first person to actually show any care towards him would leave in a matter of months.

He sighed and took another sip of the tea.

I suppose it’s what I deserve…

Silence fell over both of you again, and you opened your mouth to say something about how you wanted to know more about him, but your mind went blank when there was a crack of thunder and the lights went out.

The house was plunged into near darkness, save for the fire.

“Shit!” You gasped, and spilt some hot tea onto your pants as you jumped in surprise.

Travis tracked your every movement and went to get up and help, but you waved a hand to tell him to stay put, “If we’re both walking around we might crash into eachother.” You sighed and got up to check the breakers.

Travis’s breath caught at the idea.

That wouldn’t be so terrible…

The image of you walking into him as you fumbled in the dark, and him holding you up straight suddenly shot through his mind…your surprised breath catching in your throat at the feeling of his hands on you-

Stop it old man.

Sure enough, nothing turned on; you were going to be without power for a while. Probably a tree on the lines. Next you trudged upstairs, only tripping a couple times, to find some dry pants. You went to the smaller fireplace in the room and made quick work of lighting a couple logs. It was going to get very, very cold and you didn’t feel like catching cold. The flames cast a calm glow to the room, and you took a moment to bask in it.

Then you remembered the man sitting on your couch, and you almost jumped up to find something dry to wear.

Without completely tearing your room apart in the dark, you managed to find some athletic shorts, and sighed as you pulled them on. As soon as they clung to your thighs, your face lit up as the seam rubbed against your bare pussy.

If you hadn’t already taken so much time to find those shorts and light the fire, you might have tried to find something else or just a pair of panties. If your heart wasn’t begging you to return to him, that is. So you accepted the discomfort and padded back down the dark stairs.

“Sorry about that, sir…I think this part of town is going to be without power for a while…” you sighed, coming back into the room, “Must be a tree on the lines or something…”

Travis was knelt in front of the fire again, poker in hand. When he turned back to you, he swore the air was knocked out of his lungs.

Shorts? Fucking shorts, girl?

But he stood up and looked around at the dark house, and at the storm, ignoring the stiffness in his pants.

“You’ll be alright?” He asked.

His concern made your heart dance.

You shrugged, and sat back on the couch.

“I hope so. I mean I’ll be without any phone but I think the landline works so if I have any emergencies I should be able to handle it.” You said, and he joined you in sitting. It was only when you grabbed your cup again that you realised that you had sat much closer to him that before.

You both seemed to notice at the same time, and you swore you saw his ears go pink even in the low light.

After another beat of silence, you placed your cup down and leaned back onto the couch, watching the raging trees outside. It seemed to lull you into a trance, and your eyes glazed over. It was only when you heard him place his cup down too that you snapped out of it. He took a deep breath, and finally relaxed into the comfort of the cushion behind him, but when you looked over to see if he was comfortable, that was your mistake.

As Travis leaned back, he flicked his eyes over to your relaxed form, but met your eyes instead.

Those dark eyes of his had glanced to you so casually, but at soon as they connected, you both froze.

Caught.

You stopped breathing for a moment, and the lack of air must have made your brain stupid. You couldn’t think. Your rational thoughts flew out the window, and you knew you would blame your lack of oxygen later for your actions.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned over the two feet between you and the older man, and brushed your lips against his.

The roaring of the storm stopped, and you couldn’t even hear the fire crackling.

The kiss was so light it almost didn’t happen.

But it did.

You pulled away quickly, eyes wide. A harsh shadow was cast over half of the sheriff’s face; you wished desperately that you could have seen how he was looking at you properly. Finally, your brain started to work, “I-“ you tried.

Travis thought he might have been having a heart attack right there by how tight his chest was. But then as soon as you said that one syllable, he was brought back to earth.

“I should be on my way ma’am.” He said shortly, standing up and already grabbing his belt. You barely had time to say anything before he had started towards the hall, not even fastening his belt or clipping on his radio.

The reality of your actions fell on top of you, and you felt mortified. Was he rejecting you? Had you been mistaken with his kindnesses and soft touches? Oh god he must think I’m just trying to jump is bones-

You walked briskly behind him, “Wait, I-I’m sorry. Please, would you just-“

He suddenly stopped and turned back to you, his face hard and unreadable in the dark. You bumped right into him, and stumbled back.

“I- I’m sorry, I don’t know what-“

But he was past apologies.

“I don’t appreciate being made a fool of, young lady.” He snapped, harshly slinging his belt around his hips.

A fool…?

You blanched, and shook your head, “T-that wasn’t my intention, sir…I suppose there are better ways to go about it but I…” you couldn’t say it.

“What?” He asked harshly, not even stopping his fastening of his bet.

His tone should have made you feel guilty, but somehow the firmness only made your skin warm up.

“I…I like you very much…” you breathed out.

It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room.

Travis couldn’t look at you.

Even if you did like him.

And he liked you.

And even if you did stay.

He couldn’t have you.

He didn’t deserve you.

He clicked the belt into place- the sound making you jump.

“Well, don’t.” He bit.

Travis went to turn away again, but a sense of determination was set in your bones. A frustration. This man lived in a world where all his meanings were between the lines, and it was exhausting to keep up with.

“What do you mean ‘don’t?” You asked, grabbing his arm to keep him in place. You weren’t usually one to get so riled up, but something about his cut off attitude made you need to understand what he was thinking. Because at that point, you didn’t understand anything at all.

He was exasperated, and you touching him wasn’t helping, “Exactly what I said. Don’t.” He huffed and took your hand off his arm, trying to ignore how soft your skin was.

You stood there for a moment, just beyond the front foyer. You watched him walk away.

Maybe I was wrong…

This was all a mistake.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Note: there will be a part 4

@theroadreader @honeycovered-bandaids @dogmatic255 @spaghetti-spider @otassbek @minilev @our-legacy

[reidsnose]

happy campers

overview: the bau goes on a team building camping trip but reader and spencer spend most of their time together

genre: fluff

a/n: ive been kicking myself for not posting in forever but i think this one is pretty cute! please lmk what yall think :)

masterlist

-

-

the stuffy, eight person suv finally rolled to a stop, the overgrown children that call themselves the bau tumbling out as quickly and gracelessly as possible. Morgan and Reid nearing the end of a 2 and a half minute long slap fight that you happened to be caught directly in the middle of. you looked at jj, pleading to make them stop with her mom powers.

"boys behave or ill ground you both," she sighed, going to help out with taking things out of the trunk.

they immediately stopped, muttering under their breath that the other one started it. but before they could start again, Spencer caught a glance at you. you were taking a deep breath, smiling contently, very clearly happy to get some fresh, forest air. despite being in direct sunlight, your smile was far brighter than anything he'd seen in his whole life.

before he knew it he was being snapped out of his daze and asked to help set up the tents. he was really hoping to have a chance to share a tent with you, like you sometimes had done on cases when hotel rooms were scarce. but he knew that almost everyone wanted a spot in your tent because you're that much fun to be around. Penelope would win, obviously, and he would be paired up with morgan again.

he let out a sigh as he finished up pitching one of the tents, pulling the corner and nailing it into the ground. as he did so, something caught his eye: a pink, round, fat little worm crawled out of the dirt.

his attention was now fully on the worm, ecstatic to see it because he had been reading up on worms for a while. he called morgan and hotch over since they were the closest to him, rambling excitedly all hes learned about them so far. he looked up and could see the disinterest behind their polite smiles. his own smile faltered for a second, until he saw you finishing up pitching a tent.

"im gonna go show y/n. shes gonna love this!" spencer giggled, already walking towards you.

"hey kid i dont know if she-" morgan began.

"reid she might not-" hotch started as well.

but he had already reached you, sticking out his hand and revealing the worm. hotch and morgan looked at each other worriedly, concerned that the tiniest rejection from you, even about something as small as a worm, would tear his heart to pieces.

their faces changed from worry to confusion as they watched a wide grin crack on your face.

"oh! a worm!" you exclaimed gleefully.

they observed as you put your hand out and Spencer dropped the worm in your hand. you watched it wriggle around and would occasionally look up and nod along with his rambling, asking questions and listening intently. hotch and morgan were speechless, knowing full well if they offered a girl they liked a worm, she would not have the same reaction.

you and Spencer started walking back over to the tent, where hotch and morgan tried their best to seem busy. you two were laughing, something about putting the worm back where he found it so it gets home safely. if there was ever any doubt that you and Spencer would be the perfect couple, its completely disintegrated now.

you and Spencer were typically joined at the hip, but after the worm encounter, you two were especially inseparable.

the girls went down by the lake to tan while you and Spencer tried to build a hut out of random sticks and logs you found around the forest. and while the guys were fishing on that same lake, Spencer and you were rock skipping, and he was explaining to you the physics behind it. and you were both scaring away any potential fish for rossi, hotch, and morgan to catch. so you two were banished back into the forest for the time being. when the rest of the team came back, you and him were up in a tree, eating some of the snacks they'd packed, talking and laughing and subconsciously leaning into one another. you didn't need to be a profiler to see the signs. you two were head over heels already, even if you guys didn't know it yet.

after a bonfire full of roasted marshmallows and scary stories, laughs and giggles. it was a wonderful, but tiring night and before you knew it you were getting ready for bed, sharing highlights of the day back and fourth with Penelope.

"i'm picking up on a bit of a pattern," she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.

you wracked your brain, "what pattern?"

"all of your highlights included a certain adorkable genius."

"what? no we just...he's my best friend so we-cause its fun and i just-" you stammered, feeling your face heat up with every passing second.

"relax my love, i was just teasing," she chuckled, turning over to go to sleep.

"yeah i know. goodnight pen."

"goodnight lovely," she sighed, "but give some thought to lover boy."

you chuckled lightly before whispering to yourself, "trust me i have."

you woke up and checked the time, it was 4:47am but you just could not fall asleep. you crawled out of the tent, grabbing your blanket when you felt the cool morning air rush at you. you didn't want to wake anyone, so you made your way over to the little hill that the suv was parked on, stealing the keys from hotch's bag and crossing to the other side that faced east. the sun would be rising soon, it would be nice to watch; you draped your blanket across your shoulders. you heard footsteps coming from behind you, your blood running cold, immediately assuming the worst.

you turned around and were met with Spencer's sleepy smile. his hair stuck up in all directions and he looked perfectly adorable. you had to resist your urge to give in and kiss him right then and there.

"you scared me!" you whispered, trying to stifle a smile.

"im sorry," he giggled, "why are you up?"

"im not sure i just couldnt fall back asleep. why are you up?" you echoed.

"morgan keeps farting."

you and him let out hearty laughs, quickly covering your mouths as to not wake up the rest of the team.

you faced the car for a second, legs growing tired from standing.

"look how pretty the fogged up windows look," you observed, facing back and fourth between the colorful sky and the muggy version reflecting on the suv. you pressed your hand against the window, leaving a print, "so cold!" you chuckled.

spencer put his hand next your handprint, quickly recoiling, "you werent lying," he laughed, shivering a little.

you looked at the two handprints, his comically larger than yours and you couldnt help but smile to yourself.

"do you want some blanket?" you asked, opening your arms.

"i think im too tall," he frowned, "maybe if i crouch?"

"how about," you dangled the keys infront of your face before opening the trunk of the suv, "front row seats to the sunrise and some blanket."

"that sounds perfect," he smiled, begging his body not to redden his cheeks.

you two crawled into the trunk, draping the blanket across both of your shoulders, being pulled together by the small piece of fabric. you two were completely cuddled together, getting maximum warmth from the blanket and each other's body heat. a comfortable silence floated between you, faint bird songs and the others breathing filling it with peace. you felt your eyelids droop, despite the breathtaking rebirth of the sun happing in front of you. spencer was just so comfortable.

he felt the same way, his head falling to rest on top of yours as sleep pulled at his eyes. he yawned lightly, pulling you closer and breathing you in. you smiled. perfectly content.

about an hour later, hotch woke up, searching frantically for his keys. he ran up to check if the suv was still there, only to be met with your sleeping figures in the open trunk, wrapped up tightly in a blanket, smiles on both of your faces despite being asleep. hotch was good at predicting things, he saw scenarios play out fully before they truly began.

he snapped a picture, knowing it would be put to good use in a few years, he smelled a wedding.

spencer and you spent the drive home smiling like a couple of idiots, grins growing wider each time the sun hit the window just right, revealing your handprints.

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vi)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: BUCKY BARNES IS BACK AND HAS A CONFIRMED PERSONALITY 

also omg everyone who’s been sending me ideas- ur the lomls. 

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Your place or mine? ;)

He stares at the text.

The right answer is mine. See you at the lair.

“Y’all are dating now?” Clint peeks over his shoulder. 

“Fuck no,” Bucky says indignantly. “God forbid.”

“Okay, man,” he retracts, giving Bucky space to turn around and face him. “What do you want to call your mini dates then?”

“Missions,” Bucky corrects him.

“No one wants to go on a mission. You volunteered to go back there.” 

“It’s for the good of the tristate area.” 

“I bet.” The snort he lets out contradicts his words. “Whole world is depending on you, Barnes. Go save them from the treachery of your crush.”

“Enemy.”

“Girlfriend.”

“Mortal nemesis.” Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “Go further, I dare you.”

“What are you gonna do? Choke me? Punch me with your metal arm?” Clint cranes his neck. “Bring it, big boy. I’m not scared of some kinky shit.”

He hates living here. 

The door is left open for him. 

This time, even though the lair is still illuminated by the green light out in the front, there’s a minor change. Sunlight streams in through a skylight in the roof. 

There’s a ladder there, leaning against the rim. It gives him an entrance to the roof, which, judging by the lack of any other presence in the lab, is where he’s supposed to go.

As he gets closer he notices there’s a note on one of the rungs.

‘Evil’ with an arrow pointing upwards.

He rolls his eyes, discarding it on the floor before swiftly scaling the steps.

“Ah, Mr. Barnes,” he hears your voice call out even before his head pops up above the surface. “We’ve been expecting you.” 

He pauses, looking around. “Who’s with you?”

Because other than the gigantic machine pointed up towards the sky, there’s only you with a visor and sunglasses. The  best way he can describe its design was that it was shaped like a pine cone, had a large antenna pointed towards the sky, two handlebars near its base to manoeuvre it with a large button in between them. 

“Just imagine I have my henchmen with me,” you urge. “I’m on a budget, man, I can’t afford them yet. Maybe when my cloning machine finally works-”

He doesn’t answer.

“It’s a James Bond reference,” you add when he doesn’t show any signs of answering. 

“Haven’t watched it yet.” Bucky shrugs. “We’re doing Star Trek right now.”

“You’re done with Star Wars?” you, receiving a nod in confirmation. “Nice. You’d find the spy shit ridiculous anyway, it’s way below your level.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He makes a mental note to add the Bond movies to the list. 

“Speaking of stars,” you begin, gesturing to the machine. “I’m going to harness the power of the sun.”

“For what?” He doesn’t bother asking how, he already knows you’ve figured out something. 

“There’s a science exhibition and my team’s stupid solar car experiment isn’t working and I need it for them to win.” 

“So build a better one.” 

“No, ours is the best and if Jeff and his stupid baking soda volcano beat us then we’re going to have a murder on our hands.”

“Your hands,” he emphasises. He has nothing to do with this.

“I said what I said, boy.” You glare at him. “This is our problem now.”

“How much power are you taking?” If it’s insignificant enough, it wouldn’t matter much. He thinks. 

“The whole thing.”

He laughs. He stops when you don’t.

“You’re taking all the energy of the sun to power your shitty science model.”

“Your face is a shitty science model,” you mimic him in a higher pitched voice. “I will do anything to win.”

He wonders which grade kid you stole that insult from was in. There’s no way they were anything older than 13. He could use it on Steve, maybe.

“Everyone on Earth will die.” He feels the need to remind you, even though there was no way it was actually going to take place. Eat shit, Clint. This superseded the tristate area.

“Not for eight minutes.” You look at your watch. “And, if Jeff dies then I win by default.”

“You’ll die too,” he points out. 

“I’ll die a winner.” You nod seriously as if that makes it better. 

He’s not that worried. Experience tells him that you’re not a mass murderer willingly. 

“You’ll die an idiot.” 

“Only if you don’t stop me.” Your lips curve into a smile. “And how will you when I do this?”

You yank the machine to point towards him and slam the button. His hand reflectively pulls in front of him to defend himself. Something hits him with enough force to send him skidding backwards slightly. 

He removes his hand carefully from in front of him, looking at you. 

Something feels off.

“You just-”

The knives strapped to his thighs suddenly feel heavier.

“Took your powers?” you finish his thought. “Yeah.”

He feels his body tip towards his left. He’s suddenly very aware of the weight of the arm. Had it been this heavy all this while? 

“You’ve barely changed,” you noted, “You’re just regular Bucky but like, 20% less beef.”

After all, he was a boxer when he was a teen. One of the best men the Howling Commandos had even before the serum.

His shoulder feels heavier though. And somehow he thinks he’s sensing things a little less. He can’t really hear the faint buzzing of the generator downstairs anymore.

“Yep, that’s real muscle.” He turns when you poke at his shoulder. He doesn’t know when you got there. “You’re like a modern day Schwarzenegger. Grade A beefcake.”

He can’t see the construction site near the horizon as clearly as he used to. 

Something about this situation makes him feel like he’s going to have a midlife crisis, even though he’s overshot the age by a huge number. No one has a midlife crisis at 106. 

“Now that we’ve established that this works,” you say, back near the machine again. When did you walk there? “Let’s show this bitch that I’m the brightest star allowed in this solar system.” 

He shakes his head to jolt himself awake, shoves aside his mental dysfunction and breaks out into a sprint when you pull the device down to aim it at the sky. 

He latches onto the side, using his left hand to pull himself up, straddling the machine.

“Excuse me,” you exclaim like it’s a minor inconvenience and he feels the machine sway wildly under him. “You’re weighing it down, get off my inator.”  

You’re shooting recklessly, trying to shake him off. It’s not dissimilar to the mechanical bull Natasha made him ride during a mission down south so she could win money off placing bets on him. They had lobster that night.

He reaches down to its side, hoping to feel maybe a panel he can rip off. He finds nothing.  

He hopes none of the rays are actually hitting anything. It’s a little harder to stay on than he’d imagined it would be, and he thinks that maybe this wasn’t the best plan. 

He changes his mind in a split second, swinging himself over so that he can climb the underside of the machine like a monkey bar. He feels like a fucking insect. How was Peter not mortally embarrassed? 

He factors in the fact that his hands are getting clammier and his grip is slipping faster than usual. Also, he can taste his lunch at the back of his throat.

“Motherfucker,” Bucky curses when his hand slips, leaving him to hold on only by his metal arm. 

“You okay?” you call out, not giving him a second to recover unless he really needed it.

He lets out a grunt, swinging his arm up and catching hold of the antenna, yanking it down and towards the machine itself. He pulls himself up so that he’s straddling the machine again. 

One more shot and-

“Very smart, Barnes,” you say dryly, letting go of the handles. 

He sends you a sly grin before sliding down the barrel, kicking the large button with his heel right before he jumps off. 

The beam shoots out, instantly meeting with metal. The device automatically gives a mechanical groan before powering down, turning off altogether. 

“I hate you,” you huff, before noting his paleness. “D’you want some water? An IV maybe?”

He dismisses it with a wave of his hand, inhaling heavily to catch his breath.

He’s tired, more so than he would have been under any normal circumstance. He feels a little dizzy, a little disoriented. 

“Don’t worry, your magic powers will be back in a few minutes or so.” You examine the bent antenna, pressing the button and sighing when it stands there lifelessly. “Once Jeff wins, I’ll send the dry cleaning receipt to you. You can pay to get the tear stains out of the kids’ outfits.”

“Your tears or theirs?” He’s relieved about the powers returning, he thinks.

“Both, bitch.” Your eyebrow quirks at his retort. Clearly, he had more energy in him than people realised; his brain seemed to be working fine. He was stronger than you thought. Good for him. 

“You’re smart. You’ll figure something out.” He lets out a final exhale before standing up a little straighter. 

“Thanks. It’d be better if you asked your billionaire tech genius to send us something, but okay.”

“It’s a middle school science exhibition. Make a potato battery or something.”

You tsk-tsk. “No points for creativity, Mr. Barnes.”

It creeps into his mind without warning. He wonders if he actually wanted the powers back. Wonders what his life could be if he maybe retired, settled down. For the brief time he feels like his pre-war self, he starts to think like his pre-war self.

“I’m not the one who’s about to lose to a baking soda volcano,” he finds time to respond, however. 

“Your face is a baking soda volcano.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I will not lose.”

“You’re running out of time. Chop chop.”

But the thought hits him. Who is Bucky without his super soldier serum? If he doesn’t have his powers then he can’t think of what use he is to the Avengers.

Who the hell is Bucky if he can’t provide a service to others? How else does he make up for being himself?

His, what he’s now deemed, afterlife crisis is starting to look more apparent.

He compartmentalises and stores it away in a box. He’ll bring it up with his therapist later. 

“I’m going to win and then you’ll be sorry you weren’t a part of it because you didn’t let me steal the sun.” 

“If you win, I’ll still be glad I didn’t let you.” He climbs back down the ladder, feeling the ache in his muscles reduce with every passing minute. 

True to your word, his powers do return a while later. 

And while he’s watching Avatar: The Last Airbender with Peter in the living room two days later, his phone beeps with a text. 

It’s a picture of a blue first place ribbon next to a toy car that looks like it’s powered by a potato battery. Beside it is an out of focus middle finger that is aimed at him. 

Congratulations, he texts back. Told you potato batteries always win.

Your face always wins, he receives in return. He can’t tell if you’re insulting or flirting with him. 

He just shuts his phone off and goes back to watching the show. 

Next part

[sims4lizzyuk]

Vampiric tales: A vampire legacy challenge

VAMPIRIC TALES: A vampire legacy challenge

General rules: -All of your sims must be vampires -For each generation, you must complete three aspirations before moving onto the next one -After three aspirations, your elder vampire and their spouse will retire to a huge gothic mansion/castle in another world, relinquishing the title of coven leader. They will still be an ‘elder’ vampire and can be visited for advice, but they are no longer leaders of the coven – simply wise vampires. -Follow these rules from the ORIGINAL Vampire Coven Challenge (which I couldn’t find online), as building a coven is part of this: -You must have two main ‘elder’ vampires who are grand master vampires and the leaders of the coven. The title of elder can only be bestowed upon your family – more specifically, your current sim, their spouse, and the past generations and their spouse. -You must have four ‘elite’ vampires with level 8 logic skill -You must have six ‘guardian’ vampires with level 8 fitness skill -All other minor vampires and above are considered ‘family’ -All vampires ranking below minor vampire are considered ‘fledglings’ -Every time a new generation is born, turn two new fledglings -Keep records of every vampire through books and/or paintings about them -All generations must master the vampire lore skill -All generations must have the ‘vampire creation’ power -The heir to the coven is your eldest child and their spouse -All vampires, once a master vampire, must be immune to the sun -All the vampires in your coven must be random townies that you find. You must turn them and mould them to make them into who you need them to be (not by changing their traits, just by giving them skills and teaching them vampire lore) -Once your starter sim has moved into Forgotten Hollow and has the vampire creation power, you may start turning sims who will become your elite and guardian vampires. You may not create them in advance. -If any of your vampires die (no judgement), you must keep their grave on your home lot -The main members of your coven must live in Forgotten Hollow – Vlad’s house, your house, a house for the elites, one for the guardians and one for another household of family. Once Forgotten Hollow is full, you may expand into other worlds (you may want to turn Newcrest into a vampire world) but all homes must have the gothic, vampiric vibe of Forgotten Hollow -If you want your elites and guardians to retire, they may do this and you can choose new ones but they must have the necessary skills for the role. You may also keep the same ones throughout the generations. -This is designed for all the packs up to Dream Home Decorator – if you don’t have them, just adapt the challenge as you choose.

Gen One Aspirations: Master Vampire, Vampire Family, World-Famous Celebrity Traits: Genius, romantic, ambitious

To do: -Create a vampire sim with a very gothic vibe and move them into Fledermaus Bend – build them a gothic, vampiric home. You may use money cheats for this. -Marry one of the three original premade vampires in Forgotten Hollow – Vladislaus Straud IV, Caleb Vatore or Lilith Vatore. -Win a vampiric spar against Vlad -Have four or more children -Finish all three named aspirations -Retire to a huge gothic castle/mansion in Del Sol Valley

Story: You are new to Forgotten Hollow. You are a young vampire with a lot of dreams – primarily, you want to build your own vampire coven. Your past was difficult, and you decide to move away to Forgotten Hollow. You have your own house just the way you like it. There, you find three other vampires and you make it your goal to get into their good books. They help you to learn all about being a vampire, and they teach you ancient lore. One of them, you fall in love with along the way. The three of them didn’t get on well at first – but once you enter the picture, the four of you become very close. As you gain in power, you establish a small coven of which you are the leader. You start to turn more vampires and to tutor them as you were tutored. You marry your vampire love and start a family. Once you feel satisfied that you are the most powerful vampire in Forgotten Hollow, you start to focus more on relations within your coven. You want it to feel like an immortal family, and you make sure both your children and the vampires you have turned have a good relationship with you. After that… perhaps you can expand beyond Forgotten Hollow. Perhaps you can take over the world. Believing you can do anything, you start to pursue fame. You start to share tales of your coven around the world and eventually, you really do have it all – love, family, money and global recognition. You decide it’s time to pass on the title of coven leader to your eldest child, probably now grown-up and more than capable of handling everything. Assuring your family that you will always be there if they need you, you and your spouse move away to a huge gothic castle in Del Sol Valley to enjoy a much-deserved retirement. You’ve done very well.

Gen Two Aspirations: Soulmate, nerd brain, outdoor enthusiast Traits: Genius, dance machine, ambitious Career: Secret agent

To do: -Complete your three aspirations -Complete the secret agent career -Get married to another child from the coven -Master the dancing skill as well as all those you need for aspirations -Have two or more children

Story: You were raised in the coven as it grew in power, and you see the love and the power that your parents had and want that for yourself – admittedly, the love more than the power. You’re smart and ambitious like your parent, and you also love to dance… although you’re quite mild and modest, there are a lot of things you can do. As you grow up, you quickly find the soulmate you were looking for in one of the other members of the coven – you’re surprised to find that your dream had been right beside you all along. You get married and start a family, and you pursue a career as a secret agent which surprises a few people, but it’s what you really want to do. You’re incredibly smart and have never sought praise for your accomplishments, and a part of you enjoys the secrecy. You focus on your job as well as practical skills – both logic and handiness. Once you’ve mastered your career and even been to outer space, you feel there’s something missing – and, leaving the coven stuff more to your spouse, you find it in nature. You visit Granite Falls and fall in love. This is everything you’ve needed. Your spouse and family are important to you, but you find it equally important to just be with nature. After spending more and more time in Granite Falls, you eventually realise what it is that you want – to just step back from the coven. It’s your parents’ legacy and you’re proud to uphold it – but your eldest child is ready now. You move away to a small and cosy yet, of course, gothic house in a nice, wooded area with your spouse, and settle down into a quiet life with the one you love – although, of course, you’ll still visit your family.

Gen Three Aspirations: Friend of the animals, Freelance botanist, Traits: Perfectionist, good, hot-headed Career: Veterinarian

To do: -Marry another sim from the coven -Have two or more children -Complete the three aspirations -Master the wellness and gardening skills -Always have two or more pets

Story: You’ve always made it your goal to do everything you do to the best of your ability. You want a great life, a great spouse, great kids and pets… you just want it all. You love animals and you love helping people, so you open up your own (naturally, vampire-themed) vet clinic as soon as you are able. As much as you have positive intentions, though, you still have issues with anger – and that just won’t do. You throw yourself into wellness and try to centre yourself as much as you can – and, naturally, you succeed. Your anger still bubbles up to the surface, but you know how to deal with it. In order to aid this, you remember how your parent used nature to ground themself, so you start to focus more on your gardening and find that you enjoy it. Once you’re content that your garden is everything you want it to be, you find a new focus – writing. Initially, you were just writing books for your kids and the coven’s children, just novelty little books about vampires – but then you really got into it and before you know it, you’re writing full novels of all different genres, self-help books about wellness and gardening, records of your coven’s vampires… you become a bestselling author, and eventually decide that you want to focus more on being with your spouse as well as your writing and your career – and on top of running the coven, that’s a little much. You move away to somewhere nearer your vet clinic, and you leave the role of coven leader to your eldest child who you more than trust (perhaps wrongly) to handle it. They may have a lot going on, but you trust that they’ll find a way to work through it. Your other child/ren will be able to support them, at least.

Gen Four Aspirations: Hope vs. Order (Enforcer of order), Public Enemy, Galactic privateer Traits: Perfectionist, paranoid, evil Career: Criminal

To do: -Marry someone from Batuu (after turning them into a vampire) -Master the robotics skill and build a servo -Have one or more children -Complete your three aspirations

Story: You are… an interesting sim. You take care of the coven, sure, but you also believe that when it’s as advanced as this… it kind of runs itself. You’re a perfectionist as well, but in a very different sense than your parent. You don’t trust anyone, and you’re always afraid of people stealing the coven’s power. You’ve never really cared about mortals, and you find it fun to mess with them sometimes. As a young adult, you run away to Batuu and join the First Order – just to stir things up. You live out your life, marry someone from there and work your way slowly up to the top – although, of course, you go back to visit the coven sometimes and check everything’s okay. You trust your sibling/s to handle it – they’re someone you do trust. Once you’ve reached the very top of the First Order, you disappear back home. You’re there for the coven – but you also focus on the criminal career. Your family run the world – but you want to run the underworld as well. You make a lot of enemies and even kill one of them – it wasn’t fun any more, they were just annoying – and life becomes true chaos and you love it. You also start to get into robotics, which you enjoy a lot, and you build a robot to help you with your crime and mischief. Once you’re content that the criminal world is yours and you’re the king/queen of thieves and liars, you return to Batuu – you’ve missed it there – but this time, you join the scoundrels. You find that they’re a lot of fun, so you use your wit and your silver tongue to reach the very top before returning home to your eldest child who’s frowning. They tell you that they haven’t been taking adequate care of the coven and they think you should leave them in charge. You’re more than happy to relinquish the responsibility, so you move away to a villainous lair somewhere and leave your child in charge. Your spouse understands you, even if no one else does.

Gen Five Aspirations: Mansion Baron, Fabulously wealthy, Computer whiz Traits: Squeamish, materialistic, bro Career: Interior designer, Tech guru

To do: -Master the video gaming and fitness skills -Marry a famous athlete (after turning them into a vampire) -Master the interior decorator and tech guru careers -Have other coven members over to watch sports at least once a week -Have two or three children

Story: The coven isn’t as in pieces as one might imagine – you and your aunt/s and/or uncle/s did a pretty good job of doing it while your parent was off in Batuu or being a criminal, so you are more than prepared to run it yourself. You love the gothic style, and you love interior design. You’ll confess that may be a bit materialistic, and if you’re honest, the plasma does gross you out a bit so you prefer to drink from plasma fruit where possible. You stick to the rules with your interior decorating, although you like to put your own gothic twist on it where you can. You also do up your own house and make sure it’s definitely up to your standards. You also love sports, so you frequently work out in the home gym that you installed, and you love to have other members of the coven over to watch the games on telly. When you’re out one day, you can hardly believe it when you meet one of your favourite athletes. Not only that – they seem to like you! You start dating, turn them into a vampire, have a big fancy wedding and start a family together. Once you’re well and truly rolling in it, you discover another passion that you have – video gaming! You add a gaming room to your vampire mansion, and you leave interior design behind to become a gamer. When you eventually decide that it’s time for you to retire, you purchase a lavish house somewhere dramatic – with all the same amenities as your old place and more, of course – and you move away with your spouse, leaving the role of coven leader to your eldest child.

Gen Six Aspirations: Lord/Lady of the knits, Master maker, Party animal Traits: Dog lover, maker, childish Career: Civil designer, freelance crafter

To do: -Marry someone you met at your great-grandparent’s vet (again, turn them if they aren’t already a vampire) -Always have at least one dog from when you become a child -Complete your three aspirations -Have at least four children -Visit every household in the coven at least once

Story: You have a child-like innocence and care passionately about making the world a better place. You loved to visit your great-grandparent at their vet as a child, and you’ve always especially loved the dogs. You focus on innovation to help the environment once you’re old enough to work, and you always look on the bright side. You also support your work with selling some of your knitting on Plopsy – you’ve loved knitting since you were a child. As a young adult, you meet the love of your life at your great-grandparent’s vet and fall in love very quickly. You marry quite young and start a family – a big family. Your spouse is very outgoing and helps you to let loose a bit whenever work stresses you out. Once you feel you’ve done a substantial amount to help the environment with your work and your knitting is getting successful, you decide to cut back a bit and try freelance crafting alongside your knitting – and this goes very well. You’re very happy with your fabrication and your knitting, and you feel like life is good. The coven is still running smoothly as well – once you no longer work full-time, you have more time to spend with your family as well as the coven. As you get older, you find that you really enjoy the social aspect of running the coven, so you start to host frequent parties for the coven. You make sure nobody feels left out, and you’re a real nurturing presence for the coven. Some of the younger members are surprised that such a powerful vampire can be so sweet and caring. When you finally retire to a nice – yet still gothic, that part of your family is as immortal as all its members – home in Brindleton Bay, the coven are sad to see you go but hopeful for the future under the reign of your eldest child.

Gen Seven Aspirations: Jungle Explorer, Archaeological scholar, musical genius Traits: Clumsy, hot-headed, cat lover Career: Manual labourer, entertainer (musician)

To do: -Master Selvadoradian culture, piano and pipe organ skills -Own a piano, a pipe organ and a keyboard -Always have at least one cat -Have at least two children -Complete your three aspirations -Master the musician career

Story: While your parent loves dogs, you are all about the cats. You are not physically gifted and have quite a short temper, but you’re determined to be a good leader of your coven and you’re very protective – enemies of the coven are treated very harshly under your reign. As a young adult, just when your parent is thinking about retiring, you decide to take a trip to the jungle to mentally prepare yourself for stepping up as the leader. There, you discover a real fascination for the culture and the music, and you meet your Selvadoradian sweetheart. You turn them into a vampire so you can live together forever and have a beautiful jungle-themed wedding. Once you’re married, you visit Selvadorada with your spouse as often as you are able and discover new things about it every time. While your kids are growing up, you only ever work part-time so that you can be there for them as well as running the coven and visiting Selvadorada. You become more preoccupied with studying the ancient past – you’ll always be there for the future, but the past from before the coven was founded is something you know little about and are eager to learn more. You love archaeology, and you also love music – once your children are a little more grown-up, you start to pursue your passion for music as well. You learn the piano and the pipe organ, and your music is soon ready to take you all over the world – that’s when you make the decision to retire and leave the coven to your eldest child. You had a good run, and you can’t wait for what retirement will bring for you and your spouse.

Gen Eight Aspirations: Academic, Beach Life, Leader of the pack Traits: Jealous, outgoing, child of the islands Career: Fisherman

To do: -Master fishing and fitness skills -Marry someone you meet at uni -Complete all three aspirations -Have one or more children

Story: The coven is practically ancient by this point, and doesn’t need an active a leader. You’ve always loved to learn and you’re desperate to go to university, so you think… ‘why not? Why shouldn’t I?’ You move out for a short while and have a wonderful time at university while running the coven from afar. One of your siblings in Forgotten Hollow helps out with running it while you’re away, and you promise to come back as soon as you’re finished with your degree. You don’t quite stick to it, but your coven agree once you’ve graduated that you deserve a holiday. You go on a week-long holiday to Sulani and fall in love with the islands. You and your university boy/girlfriend have a wedding there, and you promise yourself it won’t be the last time you visit. Of course, once the holiday is over, you obediently return to Fledermaus Bend, and you spend some time with your coven. You never forget what you learnt in Sulani, though. You host a kava party for the coven, and you continue to fish. You also go frequently to the swimming pool so that you can swim. You’re a natural leader, and you’ve always been good at getting what you want. You can get a little jealous – especially seeing as you struggle with being a vampire and watching mortals come and go – but when that envy comes to relationships, you promise your partner that you’re working on it. You start a few clubs where you can do the things you’re passionate about, and you eventually grow to be comfortable in your vampiric skin. Your coven love you even though you’ve been absent a lot during your reign, and they’ll miss you once you retire to a home in Sulani – the place that has called to you since you first visited.

Gen Nine Aspirations: Serial romantic, Painter extraordinaire, Joke star Traits: Child of the islands, adventurous, cheerful Career: Social media, entertainer (comedian)

To do: -Master the singing skill -Go to the karaoke bar at least once a week -Visit Gen One at least once a season -Have three or more children -Complete all three aspirations -Master the social media and comedian careers

Story: Your parents took you to visit Sulani a lot as a child so you do feel connected to the islands and you love a good adventure – but you’re more comfortable in your own skin. You love being a vampire, and you take full advantage of the fact that you’re immortal and mortals… aren’t. You’re very charismatic and love to sing, and you’re always visiting the big city for karaoke nights, which you post about on social media. You get on very well with the coven’s founder, and they’ve taught you a lot about how to succeed on social media – being a global superstar, they know all about that. You have relationship after relationship… until, eventually, you fall hard. You meet another vampire, a kind and creative artist who takes your breath away. For them, it’s worth leaving your serial heartbreaker reputation behind and before long, you’re happily married. They get you into art as well, and before long, you’re well on your way to having a successful art career alongside them. They always look on the bright side just as you do, and you’re a perfect match. Once your painting career is everything you want it to be, you find a new passion – comedy! You’ve always had a way with words, and you enjoy nothing more than using them to make people laugh. You’re happy, and life is just how you want it to be. When you retire, you move to a house in Sulani near your parents, and you feel more than ready to pass on the mantle to your eldest child.

Gen Ten Aspirations: Extreme sports enthusiast, bodybuilder, friend of the world Traits: Bro, loves outdoors, gloomy Career: Stylist

To do: -Complete all three aspirations -Master fitness, skiing, snowboarding and rock-climbing skills -Marry someone you meet at a Snowy Escape festival -Have at least one child

Story: You love sports and hanging out with your friends, but immortal life… it’s hard. As a younger vampire, you have a great time. You have a successful career as a stylist, and life seems great. With your sunlight immunity, you’re able to spend time in the outdoors. You visit the snowy mountains, you fall in love with someone you meet at a Mt. Komorebi festival… and they’ll never leave you, at least. You love the mountains and you love being outside… but as the mortals you knew grow old and die, you start to withdraw. You don’t visit the mountains as much. You introduce yourself to all the members of the coven you don’t know – for it has many branches now, it’s everywhere and it’s impossible for you to have met everyone in person – and you try to focus on being friends with everyone in your coven. Your coven is what you’re destined for. You can’t help but wonder, though… is vampire life really it for you? OPTION ONE: Continue the story! Gen Ten finds a renewed passion for life in the coven, and their children continue to run it! Choose more stories and more aspirations – use your imagination! OPTION TWO: This is the final generation. Gen Ten seeks out the cure and cures their family of vampirism. They grow old and pass on in peace. The coven is too powerful to die out now, but the main story of the great leaders will end here.