#so sorry if this doesn’t help anon but i hope it at least makes sense!!

[dearhaunt]

do you have any tips on finding a personal style? i’m one of those people who’s desperate for belonging, so i end up unintentionally trending hopping. any advice would be great.

~ btw you’re my fav mutual ~

૮ ◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა mm i’m not sure i’m the best to ask as i’ve kind of liked the same (or similar) stuff forever & have not been one for big style changes … consequences of my autism (lol)! but i will do my best to help ( ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ )

but i would say maybe take a look at all of the trends you have been & are attracted to — is there a through line? anything in common between them? maybe note overlapping characteristics, silhouettes, fabrics, etc! what /aspects/ of these trends are you liking specifically? perhaps taking this composite of details might clue you in on what you like or what feels good for you!

i am also a huuuge fan of lists. if i notice that im looking at or thinking of a certain thing (piece of media, person, magazine, clothing brand, etc) often and that its inspiring me / giving me outfit or styling ideas, i note it down! i have it in my notes written as ‘sunday-alice fashion & presentation inspirations’ hehe .. some things on this list are very specific and some are more vague! some excerpts from the list: ‘librarians,’ ‘amy lee from evanescence,’ ‘american mcgee’s alice,’ ‘ballet costumes,’ ‘porcelain dolls,’ ‘mana,’ ‘vintage nurse uniforms,’ ‘grindhouse gothic films,’ ‘yoshihito sasaguchi for Elle Japan June 1999,’ & ‘old school gothic lolita.’

+ despite having a pretty concrete sense of style i also of course dabble in taking part in certain fashion or trends if they have aspects/details that overlap with my tastes — there’s no shame in that!

& that is so sweet anon ♥︎ ty! much love

[stoopidpigeonxx]

To the anon that suggested Curly Manhandling..

here bookie <3

NSFW MINORS GO AWAY

Curly’s quite the big fellow. He knows it, too. He’s always flexing his arms in front of you to show off his gym gain and taking every opportunity to show off his impressive build. You don’t mind it. It’s a bit of a turn-on, knowing all that is all yours. But the best part is when he uses that muscle he worked so hard on to fuck you dumb. He knew you liked to be manhandled and took that to heart, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder whenever you suggested taking things to the bedroom. He adored the squeals and giggles from you when he did. Filled his heart with a sense of pride… or maybe he just adored his sweet girl. His favorite method was pushing your legs up to your head while he pounded into you, seeing the very slight bulge of his cock outlined in your stomach when he thrusts. You’re soaked and gripping him like a vice and he could die happily right now, buried 9 inches inside you. He’d hunch over to quicken his pace, hands pinning your wrists up by your head. He’d love looking at your fucked-out face, the slight drool pooling at the corner of your lips, your slightly crossed eyes, mouth parted in an O shape. You looked so pretty like this. He wanted to take a picture and frame it, hang it above his bed so he could see it every day. Your face was amazing, but it came in second only to your moans. Your beautiful, sweet little noises. Whines of his name, pleas, whimpers, all of it spurred him on. Hearing his name from your mouth was music to his ears. “Yeah, baby? Wan’ me to go faster? Harder? You got it, lemme take care of you.. Sweet thing.” “Fuck, you’re takin’ me good… g’na make me come quick..” And you took it like a champ. When he did pump you full of his kids, you took every drop. He’d let you fall back and observe his come leaking out your poor cunt. But he’s not finished, ladies and gents. Oh no. He doesn’t normally do this out of fear of hurting you, but when he’s particularly stressed and you’re just offering yourself.. Full Nelson time!! Yup, he’s got your back pressed flush against his chest, ass against his pelvis, cock thrusting in and out of you. He has an arm locked around you to hold you in place, and his other’s holding up one of your thighs for a better angle. You find this position the hottest because he finally gets to be rough with you.he begs to differ, but as long as it makes you happy, and it really does. “Fu-uck, baby, keep movin’ like that, i gotcha.. Mhmmm. Feels so good..” He’s babbling praise into your ear while he destroys you, the gentleman that he is, and making sure to kiss you everywhere he can. Soft little ‘sorry’s on your skin. He feels bad for being so rough with you, but he can't help it when it feels so good. Even he’s moaning like a girl now just from the euphoric bliss of being inside your sweet little cunt. And he’ll keep going, until he’s filled you up with at least 5 loads of his come. He wants to pump you full of his babies in hopes he’ll start a family with you. But, more likely, he’s just obsessed with seeing you leak his seed out of your abused hole. Either way, you’re full of him, a reminder of what he does to you. You’ll certainly find it difficult to walk tomorrow, but it’s worth it. He’ll take care of you, since it’s his fault you’re in that state, poor thing. And he’ll do it all over again when you want him to! <3

[punkshort]

i’m the anon who asked about the request! if you decide to do it, i’d absolutely wait forever😂 it’s very angsty tho, so the idea was for outbreak joel who doesn’t get the happy ending. reader who was head over heels in love coping with his death, maybe flashbacks to show the moments of reader seeing him die? idkidk the idea is very vague, sorry if it’s too sad!! if so maybe reader seeing him die was just a terrible nightmare & he’s there waking them up & helping them through a meltdown?

i’ve been craving for some emotional torture for wtv reason😭😭 thank you for even considering requests!🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Thank you for this request! It's my first one, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, I had to take the out you gave me and make this a nightmare because I am a big ol' softie and I won't apologize for it, but I will apologize for taking so long to write it 😂

I hate when you're right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

Warnings: major character (Joel) death - but it is just a nightmare - don't read if you think that will still upset you, angst, language, violence, descriptions of blood/gore/death scene

WC: 2.5K

dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics

You knew it was childish. You knew it wasn't essential. But you also desperately wanted to feel more comfortable, and was that really such a crime? To want to feel like yourself again? To want to wear clothes that you liked? That fit you properly? Jackson was well stocked with essentials, clothes included, but the clothes the men picked up on patrol were... utilitarian, to say the least. They grabbed the biggest and the warmest clothes so that it afforded more people the opportunity to use them, but you were beginning to grow tired of tucking men's oversized shirts into your pants, the material bunching up at your waist and twisting around as you walked, constantly trying and failing to feel comfortable in your own skin.

You thought Joel would be more open to the idea of heading outside the walls on your day off. You even teased him with the promise of picking up some new underwear, but he didn't fall for it. He fought you tooth and nail the whole evening, his voice lifting over yours angrily to explain how there's been an influx of raiders the past few weeks, that everyone agreed to lay low until they passed through, not wanting to draw attention or pick any unwanted fights. But you persisted. You always did, and you eventually wore him down when you threatened to leave without him.

Why was it such a crime to want to feel comfortable? It was just two people, you could lay low and go unseen, no problem. You've done it countless times before.

You had hoped he would have gotten over it by morning, but you were wrong. He hardly made eye contact with you during breakfast, skirting expertly around you in your kitchen, mumbling under his breath as he sipped his coffee and only shooting you angry looks when your back was turned.

The air was crisp and the woods were peaceful. You thought that would surely turn his mood around. He always appreciated being out with nature, living off the land. As much as he loved living in Jackson, he couldn't deny that part of himself that felt useful, that felt a sense of accomplishment by surviving out in the wild.

"C'mon, are you really gonna act like this all day?" you teased as you held up another shirt against your body before determining it was the right size and then tossed it in a pile with the others.

He was standing at the storefront window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. "Don't know what you mean."

You rolled your eyes and looked around the store, spotting a table of underwear with a grin. You lightly skipped over and tossed to the side the pairs that looked far too dusty so you could look at the ones underneath. Clearing your throat, you held up a pair of bright red stain underwear. He turned around and you saw it: it was fast, he hid it well, but you still saw it. That all too familiar excited look in his eye.

"Don't you like them?" you asked with a playful pout. He furrowed his brow at you like he was annoyed, and maybe he was, but you still saw the heat beginning to crawl up his neck.

"They ain't practical."

You gave him a defeated sigh and strolled over to your pile of clothes, your fingertips daintily holding the undergarment out to him. "No? Then what are they?"

His eyes shifted from yours to the red material in your hand and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Useless," he croaked, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You got a little closer, letting the soft fabric glide against the back of his hand when you dropped your arm to your side.

"Oh, yeah?" you said breathily, and you watched his eyelids flutter at your tone. "Then I guess it wouldn't matter if I brought them home and let you rip them off me."

He stepped forward, a growl emitting from his chest, low and deep, when at the exact same time, you both heard shouting outside the store. Swiveling both your heads towards the glass storefront, your blood ran cold when you saw six heavily armed men advancing towards you.

"Shit," he muttered, his arm pulling your shoulder down just in time to avoid the cascade of bullets that rained down upon you. You laid face down on the rough carpet, covering the back of your head with your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the shooting to stop. Joel tugged on your arm and you opened your eyes in a panic.

"Follow me!" he shouted, army crawling towards the registers, and you dutifully followed behind, your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Once you made it, the counter offering some, but not much, safety, the both of you pulled out your guns and double checked your ammo.

"Alright, when they stop to reload-"

"I know," you said, cutting him off. You've both been in this situation before. You knew what to do.

Holding your rifle upright and against your chest, you breathed deep, trying to steady your hands until the bullets slowed and you heard more shouting. Joel nodded to you and you both sprung up from the floor, pulling your rifles against your bodies in sync and lining up your targets.

Patience is a virtue. The amount of ammunition they wasted on the two of you was laughable when you each caught one of them between the eyes, leaving four against two.

You thought you would be able to get another shot off but Joel tugged your arm and you slinked back to the floor as a shower of bullets rained over you once again.

"You good?" he asked, and you nodded, gasping for air. Your hands began to stabilize when the shock wore off. You were in the zone.

Pressing both your backs against the small counter, you remained calm and waited out your attackers. Glass shards tinkled and scattered behind you. Bullets pinged against the metal shelving, ricocheting into the drywall.

"Assault rifles for two people? Really?" you muttered, more so to yourself, but Joel heard you.

"Told you this was a bad fuckin' idea," he said angrily.

When there was another brief pause, he looked to you again and nodded. At the same time, you rose up and took aim, firing on your attackers once again. Joel made his shot, you didn't. Three down, three to go.

"Fuck," you grumbled, reloading your rifle even though you still had rounds left.

"Focus," he scolded.

The men sounded like they were getting closer. Their voices were louder. Clearer. The shots were deafening. You prayed they weren't inside the store, because you hadn't planned an exit strategy. Without warning, Joel stood up and fired a shot. You heard a man scream and then a loud thud. It sounded like the man was just on the other side of the counter.

"That's not the plan," you seethed at him when he dropped back down next to you.

"Didn't have a choice, he was 'bout to jump us," he sneered.

Two against two.

When the shots slowed down, you held your breath, looking at Joel from the corner of your eye. He held his palm up to you silently, signaling for you to stay where you were. You heard boots crunching slowly against glass and your heart leapt into your throat. They were in the store.

You shot Joel a panicked look but he just shook his head, focusing on their footsteps, calculating how far away they were.

"Come out now and no one gets hurt," a man's deep voice called out. He was close.

Joel clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. You knew that look. It was the look of a man who was about to do something stupid. But before you could stop him, before you could reach out to him and hold him back, he stood up and took aim.

One shot. That was all you heard when Joel slumped to the floor next to you, clutching his stomach as dark red blood poured from the wound. Your eyes went wide and you saw red. Without thinking, you stood up and shot, taking one of the two men down with a yelp. The remaining raider ducked behind a display, and you dropped your rifle in favor of your handgun. Crouching low to the ground, you inched forward, careful of any broken glass that would give your position away. When you were on the other side of the display, you heard the man's labored breaths. He was scared. He was out of his element. And you had him right where you wanted him.

Silently tucking the gun in the back of your pants, you slid your hunting knife out from your ankle holster. You took a deep breath and lunged forward, driving the knife deep into the man's chest.

He dropped his gun and clutched weakly at your hands, but it was no use. His blood poured from the wound when you yanked your knife out with a grunt, and you watched as his hands slowly slid back down to his sides, his eyes still wide open and staring up at the ceiling.

You smirked, feeling victorious for only a moment before you remembered Joel. Dropping your knife, you rushed back to his side, only to find his face pale and his hands stained dark red.

"Joel!" you cried out, pressing your palms against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. His eyes drifted towards you, softening when he saw you were alive and unharmed. That you were going to make it.

Panic consumed you. Your heart was slamming against your ribs as you fumbled with your backpack, trying to find your first aid kit through the tears.

"I love you," he whispered, and you shook your head.

"Don't start with that, you're gonna be fine."

"Baby," he said weakly, and you choked back a sob.

"Hold on," you told him, still searching in your pack.

"Look at me," he said, and your hands stilled for a moment before you dragged your eyes back to him, your lower lip trembling as you took in his deteriorating state.

"I need to-" you began, but stopped to take in a shaky breath. "I need to patch you up and get you to the horses."

"No, you don't," he said softly, and more tears spilled from your eyes.

"Yes, I do. I gotta-"

"I ain't gonna make it, sweetheart," he slurred, and you could see by the amount of blood he was losing that he was right. But still, you pressed your palms against the gunshot wound, your fingers slipping through his thick and sticky blood.

"Don't say that. I can't do this without you," you whimpered, and closed your eyes for a brief moment. You felt his fingertips weakly grip your chin and you forced your eyes back open.

"Yes, you can," he said as firmly as he could. He was so pale and weak and it was making your stomach turn.

You shook your head, about to argue with him, but he stopped you.

"You keep goin', you hear me?" he said, and still, you shook your head from side to side, small sobs slipping past your lips. "Don't let this world win. You... go on and keep fightin'. Please. Be happy, baby. For me."

"No!" you cried out, spittle dripping from your lips now, mixing with your tears. "I won't! I-I can't!"

"You can," he repeated, and gave you a weak smile. "I'm ready, baby. It'll be okay."

You squeezed your eyes shut tight, the tears leaking out, hot and angry on your cheeks as you sobbed over him, clutching his hand in yours so tightly, like if you squeezed hard enough, you could give him your lifeforce. Give him your breath. But moments later, his grip weakened and when you opened your eyes, his head slumped to the side and his lifeless eyes stared off into the distance.

"Joel!" you screamed, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat with tears still streaming down your face. You looked to your side, where he normally slept, but he wasn't there. Panic squeezed your throat, your chest fucking hurt, but you flung the blankets off you and ran towards the door. Still not hearing any sounds, you raced down the stairs, almost tripping in the process but you had a grip on the railing to keep you steady.

When your eyes finally landed on his familiar form stretched out on the couch, his back to you, you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.

Reality came back to you now. You had your fight about leaving Jackson, but he won and you slept apart. You never left. He never got shot. It was all just a horrible dream.

You stumbled over to the couch, your tears unstoppable, the nightmare too vivid, too real. Your trembling hands clutched his shoulder as you fell to your knees on the floor, shaking him awake.

"What?" he grumbled, clearly still pissed off about your fight.

"I'm sorry!" you sobbed loudly, and when he realized something was wrong, he whipped around to face you.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

"I-I had-" you began, then you hiccupped, cutting yourself off. His face was etched with concern as he forced himself up and cupped your face.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, the fear in his eyes reflecting back to you as you looked at him, still not sure what was real and what wasn't.

"I had a nightmare," you finally managed to get out. "About our fight. That we... we went out like I wanted and-and-" you collapsed into another fit of sobs, your shoulders shaking violently.

"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, pulling you up and into his lap and rubbing your back. You pressed your tear stained face into his neck, inhaling deeply, grounding yourself. He was alive. He was here. Everything was fine.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your throat still tight but your tears were slowing down. "I'm sorry we fought. I don't wanna go out anymore. I don't need new clothes, it was stupid, I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," he said, pulling you tightly against his chest, "I'm sorry we fought, too. I just wanna keep us safe."

"I know, you're right," you said, pulling back a bit and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Will you come back to bed?"

"Yeah," he replied with half a smirk. "'Course I'll come back to bed, baby. Don't cry, it's alright."

You let him lead you up the stairs and to your bedroom, your side of the bed still damp with sweat but it didn't bother you. Joel was safe and sound and in your arms and you didn't care if you had to wear a potato sack for the rest of your life, as long as you had Joel, nothing else mattered.

follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[h0nkch0c0late]

Heya,how are you?I love the way you write,if you are taking request for Sam Riordan,can you write something like reader has a power that can calm him down?Like he told Cate to not touch him to make him go to sleep,but with reader is different because he obviously likes her and she is the only one he really trust?Sorry if this doesn’t make any sense🥲

Abso-fucking-lutely anon! It makes perfect sense! <33333

Soother

Sam Riordan x Reader

SUMMARY: you have the power of serenity inducement. Most often you don't use it, but when it comes to Sam, it helps more than you think

Warnings: Sam's hallucinations, swearing, Gen V spoilers, doesn't follow everything from the fourth episode.

---------------------------------------------------------

You had arrived at the house just in time.

Cate was trying to calm him down, but it wasn't working.

"No!" He yelled after she asked to let the group help him, "you are NOT touching me again, Cate! Get the FUCK out of here!" He laughed, "you're all fuckingg puppets!"

Seeing Marie grab her knife to pull use her powers, you grabbed her hand, "I've got this." You whispered, moving in front of her.

His eyes widened at the sight of you, "No! I won't let him hurt you!" He yelled.

Your eyes held him in a gentle stare as you slowly walked towards him, "Sam, no one's gonna hurt me, okay? We just need you to calm down, please." Your tone was soft as you got closer.

He had always held a deep trust with you. While Cate had made him fall asleep, your touch had always ended up relaxing him, making the puppets go away, giving him peace.

He knew that out of all of them, you were least likely to have ill intentions. Well, minus Emma.

His breathing was ragged as you stopped directly in front of him, your hands reaching for his.

"Everything is okay, Sam. We're all just here to help you, okay? They don't want to hurt you." You soothed, feeling him practically melt into your touch.

Everyone tensed as he let go of your hands slowly, each getting ready to use their powers on him if he hurt you.

But he would never do that. You were the one person he could never hurt.

You didn't even move when he reached towards you, pulling you in for a tight hug to which you accepted, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

"I thought you left me." He whimpered softly into your ear.

You smiled lightly, "I could never leave you, Sam. Who else could make you feel less crazy than me?"

"Uh...Emma?" He questioned jokingly.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully as you hugged him tighter, "say that again and I might kill you."

"Not if I kill you first." He remarked.

"You could never." You replied snarkily.

"Yeah, and neither could you."

"Dang, you got me there."

The others continued to stare at the two of you, confused at how quickly the situation had de-escalated.

And at some point of that whole ordeal, Doctor Cardosa had slipped away to join his husband and daughter.

"So...do you wanna explain why you were just about to murder Cardosa?" Andre asked, almost as if he was TRYING to get rid of the moment of peace.

Your head turned to the boy, "Andre I swear to god-"

---------------------------------------------------------

Apologies that this is so short. My writing juice for the weekend feels like its about to run out so I wanted to get something out before it happens completely! I'll most likely be back in full swing on Monday so please don't stop requesting!

Also, I hope this was to your liking <333

[cieloclercs]

grace , send me a trope + a character and i’ll write a short drabble from it

hii, can i please request best friends to lovers with ollie?

congrats on 1k btwww 🫶🫶

call me cupid — ollie bearman

pairing. ollie bearman x best friend!reader

word count. 2.7k (i swear i tried to make it short lmao)

warnings. kind of a weird fusion of fluff and angst ??? unrequited love vibes (that’s not actually unrequited but u get what i mean), pining ollie, pining reader, arthur lowkey is the mastermind, and is also sick of said pining, abrupt ending i’m sorry 😭

author’s note. hello anon! thank you so much for your request ☺️ i hope this is ok ! i know it cuts off quite abruptly, but i’d be open to writing a part 2 with the confession if you want one &lt;3

read below the cut

He’s staring again.

It’s becoming a problem, but can anyone really blame him? You look nothing short of angelic under the strobe lights, your shimmering dress catching his eye every time you move. You’re dancing with a girl he doesn’t recognise, that beautiful smile he adores stretched across your crimson-painted lips. It makes him wonder what she’s saying to you to make you seem so content.

Best friends shouldn’t look at each other the way he’s looking at you now. Ollie knows that. Yet on days like today, he really can’t help it. This is your party, celebrating your third Formula 2 victory in a row. He’d watched from way back in P5 as you stormed through the field, fighting off every challenge your opponents tried to throw your way. There’s a reason the fans call you the Queen of Formula 2, after all. You’re practically untouchable. All it does is heighten his awareness of his own pounding heart whenever you’re around; turn his insides to velvet when you so much as smile his way. Yes, it’s becoming a problem — and Ollie isn’t sure there’s anything he can do to stop it.

“You know, I’ve just thought of something you should try.” A voice speaks up to his left, breaking him out of whatever trance you’ve unwittingly put him under. He turns. Arthur Leclerc stands like the devil on his shoulder, arms folded, expression unimpressed. When Ollie says nothing, he goes on, “It’s called talking to her. Works wonders, really, I’d highly recommend. It’s how I met Carla.”

The younger of the two rolls his eyes. Arthur is the only other living soul on earth who knows about his infatuation with you — officially, at least. In reality, almost everyone in the Ferrari Academy has long since figured it out. Everyone except you, ironically. But Ollie supposes it makes sense; why would someone like you ever even consider him as something more than just a friend?

“Can we not do this tonight?” Ollie sighs, exasperated, “I’m just trying to forget about…all of that for a moment.”

This time it’s Arthur who rolls his eyes. Ever since he first caught on to his friend’s crush on you a little over eight months ago, he’s been trying every method under the sun to try and make him see that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t be so pessimistic about his chances. But the answer is always the same. Ollie remains convinced, like some poor, naïve, completely oblivious child, that you’d never so much as give him a second glance if he told you how he felt. It’s complete bullshit, of course. Arthur has seen the way your eyes search immediately for his after a race, be it a good result or even a bad one. He’s watched you brush off close friends (including him, many a time) even family members, to get to Ollie. But of course, Ollie himself doesn’t notice. No fool in love ever does.

“You’re not going to forget though, are you?” Arthur muses, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye, “I know you, and I know you can’t stay away from her for that long. You’ll cave eventually.” he smirks. At the sight of Ollie’s pink cheeks, he knows he’s caught him out.

“Why don’t you go annoy someone else for a change?” the Brit grumbles. There’s the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Arthur could pick it out even in the pitch dark.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love me.” he teases.

Within moments he’s cowered behind Carla on the other side of the room, chased away by Ollie’s (half joking) threats to crash him out of the next race on purpose if he doesn’t shut his mouth. But Arthur’s words stick with him throughout the entire night. Somehow, they always do.

In truth, Ollie's been grappling with the idea of telling you for quite a while; to put him out of his own misery more than anything else. He's sick and tired of the 'best friends' label. It seems so trivial, so reductive to say that it hurts him, when in fact, every time you refer to him as such, he’s sure you must be ripping his heart out of his chest. But then he can’t help but feel melodramatic — at least he has you, even if only as a friend. Even if you don’t love him in the way he loves you, you’re still there. Close, though perhaps not quite close enough. Ollie has decided not to take that for granted. He knows how easily it can be snatched away from him.

In the end (just as he always seems to be) Arthur is right — it’s not even an hour before he finds himself gravitating towards you; unwittingly being pulled into your orbit from which he fears, if he’s not careful, he’ll never be able to escape. You’re hovering on the edge of a group of engineers now, sipping on a glass of sparkling water out of a straw. How you can appear drop dead gorgeous yet so damn adorable at the same time, he has no idea. Ollie feels he’ll be spending the rest of his life trying to figure you and your many layers out.

“Hi, Ol.” you greet him with a smile like the sun when he finally plucks up the courage to approach. He mutters something in reply, though as soon as the words have left his mouth he’s already forgotten them — he could have said something completely unintelligible for all he knows. That’s the effect you have on him.

“Having fun?” you prompt again, your soft smile spreading into a full-blown grin. Ollie glances briefly around the room. It’s absolutely packed full of Ferrari Academy members, both drivers and personnel. Normally, this kind of event would be his worst nightmare. Even if he’s known these people for years, the idea of having to socialise and look like he’s having fun makes him feel sick. But then he remembers all this is for you. It’s to celebrate your achievements in a male dominated field, which no woman has ever managed to do before. When he reminds himself of that, all his anxiety suddenly seems to melt away.

“Of course.” Ollie grins back. His heart soars to see you light up at his words, to see you giggle behind the rim of your glass and look at him as if he’s the only person in the world. At times like this he can truly believe that maybe Arthur is right — maybe, if he confesses, his world won’t come crashing down. Maybe you’ll light it up for the better.

“What happened to you at turn one? Nic told me you dropped out of the points." you go on, eyebrows furrowing with the remnants of confusion. Ollie had begun the feature race in P2 behind you, yet you'd find that the competition you'd so anticipated disappeared not even before the first lap had ended. The Brit sighs, shaking his head.

"I collided with Jack trying to defend." he tells you with a wince, "Damaged my sidepods."

Your expression twists into one of sympathy. There's almost no coming back from that, even for a driver as talented as Ollie. Still, you think, to climb back up to P5 after sustaining damage like that is no mean feat. You don't miss the way he flushes bashfully when you tell him as such.

"It was my own fault." he mumbles, trying desperately to cool the flames in his cheeks as you watch him, eyebrows raised. He always feels like he's been put under a microscope when you look at him like this. There's no escaping the calculation in your stare, the curious scrutiny. "I took too much of a risk."

You shake your head. There's the tiniest of knowing smiles on your lips. Ollie is always so hard on himself. It's something you both admire him for, and find yourself exasperated with; he never seems to be able to see how brilliant he really is -- or at least, how brilliant he is in your eyes.

"Well, whoever was at fault, it's a real shame." you dismiss with a wave of your hand, "I miss sharing the podium with you."

Ollie is sure he must be melting. He can't figure out if it's from your words alone, or from the tiny pout that's fallen on your lips, or even the soft glint in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Suddenly the proximity between the two of you seems to have all but diminished. He chuckles nervously.

"Next race will be ours." the Brit murmurs. Little by little you inch closer to him, your hand resting on the ledge you're leaning on, just ghosting over where his own lays flat. He breathes in sharply.

"Promise?" you whisper. The point of your heel bumps against his foot. Ollie glances down at it in a panic, before his head snaps up to meet your piercing gaze. He fears that if he rocks forwards only the slightest bit on the balls of his feet, he'll be close enough for his nose to bump yours. He's never felt so consumed, so intoxicated by another person in all his life. He can smell the honey scent of your hair, feel your warm breath tickling his cheek. His gaze flickers down for the briefest of moments to your lips - soft and pink, parted as if there's something else you want to say, but the words have gotten trapped in your throat.

"I promise." Ollie croaks.

Just one more step, you think. One more step, and he'll kiss you. He's so close, closer than he's ever been before, and suddenly you can see everything falling into place: all the nights spent crying on Arthur's shoulder, wondering whether Ollie is truly just scared as your friend says he is, or whether he simply doesn't feel the same. It will all fade into a distant, long-abandoned memory. Finally, you'll be able to call him something more than just your best friend.

But then he steps away.

You flinch, taken aback at his sudden movement. Ollie stares at you, wide-eyed, breathing heavily as if he's just run a marathon. He can't believe what's just happened — can't believe he was about to kiss you. How could he be so stupid?

"I —" he stammers. The look on your face is hard to decipher: shocked, confused, hurt. If Ollie looked a bit closer, he'd be able to see the last of those emotions, or the way your shock is mixed with a horrible sinking feeling of disappointment. But, of course, he doesn't see it that way. He's stuck on the same, poisonous idea that's been plaguing his mind ever since he first figured out his feelings — you don't feel the same way.

"I'm sorry." Ollie gasps. Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and runs, leaving you stood alone, arms half outstretched as if to try and stop him. You're too late, of course. Within moments he's out of sight. Gone, just like your hope.

"Well that was a train wreck." a familiar voice speaks up from somewhere on your left. You spin around, groaning as you spot Arthur, arms folded, eyebrows furrowed in what you can only imagine is frustration.

"You don't say." you drawl bitterly, glaring down into your empty glass. Wordlessly, your friend passes you his own half-full one. You lean down to sniff at its contents, and pull away, nose scrunched in distaste — definitely not water. But you think, at this point, you're owed some kind of distraction.

"Why does he keep running away from me?" you grumble. It's been months of this cat and mouse game now. Tonight is the closest you've ever got; the first time you've seen with your own eyes that Ollie does reciprocate your feelings. Yet it feels like for that step forward, all you've gone and done is taken another two back.

"Because he's an idiot." Arthur answers plainly. The Monégasque watches as you take a gulp of his drink, pulling a face at the burn in your throat, and wordlessly reaches forwards to take the glass back from your hands. He's grateful that you don't complain.

"Well I wish he'd stop." you mutter. As much as you're willing to wait for Ollie for as long as he needs, it's painful, having to go on loving him from a distance like this. Every time you lock eyes, the longing grows more intense. You're not sure how much longer you can take it.

"You know, you're just as bad as he is." Arthur speaks up. Once again, your head snaps towards him, eyes narrowing.

"What?"

"You heard me." the Monégasque says with a sigh, "Look, I want to help you, I really do, but you could make all of this so much easier for yourself if you just tell him how you feel."

And there it is. You can’t help but let out a bitter chuckle. It sounds so simple coming from Arthur’s mouth — so easy. God knows you’ve tried, time and time again, to be honest with Ollie about your feelings, to rip off the plaster in the hopes the pain of it won’t be too great; that he might just tell you he’s been trying to say the same thing all this time. But whenever you feel as if you might be ready, the words catch in your throat. You just can’t stomach them. It’s a kind of vulnerability you’ve never shown to anyone before, let alone someone who already means so much to you. At the end of the day, you’re still young. No matter how much you love Ollie now, the chances of him being the one are low.

At least, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself. But a part of you knows already — there’s no one else on earth you’ll ever feel this way about. Young or not, it’s always going to be Ollie.

“I don’t know if I can take that risk, Arth.” you say quietly, “If Ollie and I — if we’re not meant to be together…isn’t it better just to have him, even as a friend, than risk losing him entirely?”

You’re honestly not sure which is the most painful: having to pretend that you don’t love him, or the idea of one day not having him at all. Yet, you still know which one you’d choose — even if it hurts like ripping your own heart out of your chest.

“Huh.” Arthur says, eyebrows furrowing again. There’s something different in his expression this time, though. It’s less frustration, more a spark. As if he’s realised something you and Ollie may not have just yet.

“What?” you ask. Suddenly, Arthur begins to smile. You watch him disbelievingly, none the wiser as to what on earth he has to be so happy about at the present moment. Then he’s laughing, shaking his head as if in mirthful despair.

“You really are soulmates.” the Monégasque snickers, watching almost gleefully as you grow even more confused.

“What?” you ask again. Part of you begins to wonder if Arthur has lost his mind — you wouldn’t blame him after the game he’s been playing: acting as some sort of secret go-between in the middle and your and Ollie’s back and forth self-doubts. But Arthur hasn’t lost the will to live with it all just yet. In fact, he thinks he’s finally figured out how to make the both of you see sense.

“He said the exact same thing to me.”

And with that, Arthur turns on his heel, leaving you stood alone, your mind racing. All this time you’ve been trying to play the long game; trying to anticipate what Ollie is thinking, when in reality, your thoughts are practically shared. You’re both afraid. More than you ever have been in your life. But for the first time you begin to think, perhaps fear doesn’t have to be the dividing factor.

“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” Carla Brocker asks her boyfriend as he retakes his familiar position at her side, still grinning like a child who’s just been told Christmas is coming early. Arthur says nothing, merely tilting his head in the direction of where you stand motionless. It only takes a few moments for Carla to catch on. She turns to face her boyfriend again, mouth hanging open.

“You think you’ve got through to her?” she whispers urgently.

Once again, Arthur Leclerc grins proudly.

“Just call me Cupid.”

[runnning-outof-time]

For the ‘little intimate things that leave me breathless’ thing, could you do “having a piece of hair brushed off your face as you're reading or looking down.” With Tommy pretty please if you are able! 💖 Thank you!

Thanks so much for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write — I hope you enjoy this fluffy piece! Also sorry one last time for the spamming of stories that I’ve been doing … I hope it hasn’t been overwhelming, and that the reason behind me wanting to clear out my asks and drafts will make sense tomorrow. Enjoy! 🥰

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

A Good Look

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: smoking

Summary: Tommy tries to smooth-talk his way back into a good standing with (Y/N). It doesn’t quite go the way he hopes it would…or maybe it does.

(Y/N) was engrossed in the ledgers when the sound of the door opening echoed through the otherwise empty betting shop floor. She didn’t bother to look up, knowing exactly who had entered from the sound of the shoes on the hardwood alone.

She continued reading as Tommy took a seat in the chair across from her, hearing him go about fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could put one between his lips and light it with a match. It was only after he asked “what is that?” that she brought her eyes up to meet his.

“The ledger from the Eden Club,” she answered flatly, holding his gaze for a moment before dropping it back down to the paper.

“Why do you have it?” was his next question.

“Arthur gave it to me…he wanted to have someone check it over to make sure it was done properly,” she answered, her words making him scoff.

“Bloody Arthur,” he mumbled, shaking his head, “he probably didn’t look it over in the first place.” His statement made (Y/N) glance up at him again, her eyebrows raising as he continued to mumble something about how he should have never trusted his brother with such a big responsibility.

Not saying anything in response, (Y/N) shook her head at her husband’s mutterings before focusing herself on the ledger again. She read a few more lines, focused on the numbers and the meanings behind them, before she felt the strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face being tucked behind her ear. When she looked up, she found Tommy moving back to sit normally again after having leaned over the table. “What was that for?” she couldn’t help but ask, an eyebrow quirked.

“Just wanted to get a good look at you, love…haven’t seen you in a few days,” he answered, the right corner of his lips tugging upwards. (Y/N) couldn’t help but snort at his statement. Her reaction filled Tommy with confusion. “What?” he had to ask. Usually his smooth-talking would be met with an equally as smooth and flirty response, or at the very least a grin. So to get the complete opposite this time sent his mind into a whirl.

“Schmoozing me isn’t going to make this go away that easily, Thomas,” she told him, pressing her lips into a tight line.

“Make what go away?”

“That stunt you and your brothers pulled at the Eden Club before taking it from Sabini…” she didn’t hesitate in spelling it out for him, “there’s about a million better ways that you could have gone about that.”

Tommy sighed almost immediately after hearing the reason behind her sour mood. “(Y/N)…” he started, taking a deep drag from his cigarette before he continued - because he most certainly needed it, “we needed to show Sabini that we were serious. We didn’t enter that club with the intention of having things go the way we did…”

“Sure,” (Y/N) was quick to cut into this explanation, sarcasm laced into her voice.

“It’s the truth,” he defended himself.

“You don’t go anywhere without a plan, Tommy, and you know damn well that your plan’s going to work the way you want it to ninety-nine percent of the time. You entered that club with the intention of making a violent statement, and you and your brothers succeeded in pulling it off.”

Silence fell in the room after (Y/N) finished her frustrated statement. They kept their eyes on each other, watching the other’s moves intently; looking for any possible microexpression.

It wasn’t until Tommy glanced down at the ledger that the silence was broken: “you’re unhappy with how we went about our business there, but yet you’re still checking over the club’s ledger,” he pointed out, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Tommy…” (Y/N) said in a huff, annoyed that he had to be so cocky, but yet so right.

He said nothing in response and instead relaxed back into the chair, clasping his hands over his abdomen. The smirk that was threatening to break into his face was in full view now.

“Have you gotten your good look yet?” (Y/N) broke the silence, her one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

“Hmm?” Tommy hummed, amusement clear in his voice.

(Y/N) huffed at his response. “Will you get outta here so that I can finish this up?” she asked a different question, trying not to completely crack her countenance.

Ever the betting man, Tommy tried to wage a deal: “Depends, will I see you later?”

“If you leave now?” she asked, seeing him nod before it was her turn to grin, “maybe.”

“Alright then,” he nodded, standing from the chair to go to the door of the shop. He turned to look at her before leaving, seeing that she had already dove back into checking the ledger. He just had to get one more good look at her before leaving.

(Y/N) shook her head as she heard the door to the shop shut. That was one way to get rid of him, she thought to herself with a grin.

———

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[descendantsramblings]

I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense or sounds weird😭 but can u write morgie x glinda the good witch’s daughter and there’s like a “pink goes good with green” moment? I’m sorry if that doesn’t make sense😖😖

No you made perfect sense, sweetheart! Even if it didn’t I’d find something to do with your prompt and let you tell me you hated it and want me to try again if I didn’t get your vision. This is a cute prompt, I’m excited to use it.

Also as per her wiki page, Glinda is a sorceress and not actually a witch so I had such silly idea for this, I love it. Thank you so much for the request anon.

Also, something about them is giving me season 3 Jancy vibes and I adore it, anyway.

Flash Photography

Morgie le Fay x Reader

Pronouns used: she/her/hers

Summary: the most unlikely of students somehow ended up on the yearbook committee and tasked with their own page in it

Warnings: I swear like once, this one is honestly really sweet and fluffy and honestly a little bit (lot bit) cheesy

Word Count: 2.4K

    As luck would have it, Merlin Academy’s walls only held two students who happened to be the children of sorcerers. Ironically though, as the school’s requirements for every junior to have at least one extra curricular would have it, both young sorcerers were on the yearbook committee. Morgie le Fay made one hell of a photographer, no one in the school could argue on that and (Y/n) was possibly the best journalist the school had seen. No one should have been shocked that the two would be paired together on the magic section of the yearbook. I mean, in a school made for magic, you’d only want the best for the pages about it. And don’t get him wrong, Morgie loves magic. He loves being a sorcerer and he’s excited to have a whole two pages dedicated to sorcery. But to work with (Y/n)? He’s not as sure he’s excited about that, actually there’s this odd feeling floating around in his gut as he thinks about it. Not one he seems to be able to recognize and that drives him crazy.  

    The bubble of pink joy that was the school’s only sorceress seems to float around the place, the movements being nearly mesmerizing. It’s oddly similar to her mother and Morgie can’t help but find some sort of jealousy in it. How was it seemingly so easy for her to connect into her mother’s energy and magic when he never felt like he deserved his own mother’s legacy? It was this mind boggling thing that seemed to leave him staring and unsure as to what caused it. Like she was something to be studied in his mind. 

   Not that that matters though, how could it when she’s perched in the seat next to him, bubbling off ideas as she talks with her hands. The scent of her sweet perfume taking an overwhelming amount of his attention as she nearly beams at him. Bright features filling up the space at their two person table top as they workshop different layouts for the opening pages. They have a base idea for the layout, and a good grasp on when he needs to pop into classes such as “Caring for Magic Creatures” and “Honors Alchemy” to get good shots. But moving on to do their page seems to put both teens at pause, eyes flickering over each other as if begging the other person to make the first decision.

   Morgie finds himself speaking first, words coming out on a groan that he hopes sounds playful, “Well, with the way we dress our spread is going to be a visual nightmare to put together.” It causes the sorceress across from him to scrunch her brows, “What do you mean?” With a vague gesture that seems somewhere close to a wave he references to both of their outfits, “Well you know the green and gold with the pink and silver. Totally clashes, it’ll be a nightmare to take pictures of.” It earns him a giggle, her head shaking as she smiles at him, “No it’ll look great, pink goes great with green, they’re complimentary colors. Trust me, we’ve got this.” Something in him begs to argue with her, but he can’t. Not when she’s looking at him like that. 

   So he nods, pulling the notebook in front of him closer with a smile, “Well then, Madam Good Witch, what are you thinking of writing on this page?” She smiles, looking at him as she absent-mindedly doodles little flowers in the margins of her notebook, “Well, obviously we need to explain what makes being a sorcerer different from other magic users, then I was thinking we could talk about our mothers’ legacies. You know, a good magic versus black magic sort of thing.” Morgie hates the idea, the last think he wants to do is praise his mother and her legacy, but surely that’s what Madam Jinx is looking for. And when the bright bubble beside you looks so excited she seems like she might burst, how do you tell her no? So he smiles, teeth on shy display and nods, giving into exactly what she wants from him. What else was there for him to do? ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・     Morgie le Fay was no idiot, his camera obviously had a timer, there was no need for anyone else to take his picture. But when she asked to do it, bouncing on her toes with that bright smile, how could he say no? How could Morgie do anything but slide the strap of the camera over her head and gently position her hands over his most prized possession? He’s got his hands on top of hers, holding his camera as he points it towards the school, coaching her through how to use it. She’s smiling, soft giggles escaping her lips as she follows his instructions. Bodies seeming to find a comfortable temperature in the January air against one another.  “Okay, now you feel that little wheel at the top of the left side? Slide it until the words on the sign are legible.” She nods, following his instructions, her thumb brushing over his in a ghostly fashion with each movement. “Okay, now what?” “Now, press the button that I put your right index finger on.” He hears the shutter click, her finger dipping down under his as he puts the lightest pressure on it. “There you go! Now, when you do it for pictures of me, you won't need to focus it in as far, just make sure I’m not blurry and you can handle the rest. I believe in you.”

   (Y/n) feels slightly cold as Morgie pulls away from her, letting one hand drop from the camera as she pulls it lower on its strap. Her eyes set on watching the boy walk to stand in front of the cobblestones beside them, setting up a blank backdrop for their photos. She’s studying him, taking in his green button up and gold scarf, leather clinging to his arms in a way that should clash with the rest of his outfit but instead makes it oddly dashing. With a smile pressed over his lips as he eyes her up and down. “You know, you need to hold the camera up to take my picture, right?” “Right, yeah,” and she lifts it back up, focusing the camera in on him, just to drop it again, “Hold on.” The girl's mary janes make a sweet little tapping sound on the concrete as she approaches him, slow and gentle as if she’s sure he’ll startle off like a hurt animal, “Just let me-" A hand comes up to Morgie’s face, softly sweeping a few stray hairs back into the shellacked style he tends to keep it in. “There, that’s better,” she hums, smile laying sweetly on her lips as she backs away, returning to  her former spot as she holds the camera back up. Angling it back to his face and twisting the focus ever so slightly. A lip slipping between her teeth to mask her prideful smirk as she realizes the boy is suddenly a twinge more pink than he was when she first went to take his photo, but what was it she said? Pink goes good with green, doesn’t it? She smiles to herself, letting the shutter of the camera click as she captures that boyish smile and his freshly fixed hair eternally. 

    “Okay, I want to take one more, do you want to do a different pose?” He hums, propping a leg up against the wall and bringing a hand to rest on the back of his neck, the other settling on his stomach. “How’s this?” It earns him another one of those bubbly giggles, the girl softly shaking her head, “If you’re going to pose like that, your face better give me attitude, le Fay.” “Oh, I have attitude, don’t you worry about that.” With dramatics he’s tossing his scarf over his shoulder, giving her a once over with a cheeky smirk on his lips, as if he knows he's being outrageously flamboyant. Then the boy lets his face fall to a smolder but from the glint in his eyes, you can feel the way he’s trying not to laugh, something about the mix is nearly intoxicating and (Y/n) finds herself taking two pictures of it, one of him smoldering and one when the dam finally breaks and he can’t stop himself from laughing. His posture falling to be so relaxed as he leans, hand on his stomach coming to clutch it as if that will help him recollect himself, and he just looks beautiful. She can’t help but question if it would be weird of her to ask if she could keep this one for herself. Just a little memory for the road, right? 

   “Alright,” he’s catching his breath as he reaches an arm out to her, “It’s my turn, give me my camera.” She slides the strap off of her neck as she approaches him, handing it back as she turns to take his former place against the wall. “And if I had to give attitude, you better be able to bring it, (Y/n).” Both teens share this cheesy smile for a moment, then Morgie winks, and backs away from her, “I’m serious, you better pose for me.” 

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

    When they first got this assignment, any time that Morgie didn’t spend with his friends or in required yearbook committee meetings, he was with (Y/n). Answering questions about his mom and her legacy for (Y/n)’s half of the work for their magic spread or eventually, just letting himself exist in her presence. Watching movies or reading trashy tabloids together while they did a face mask. Whatever kept him in her presence worked for him. They made an unlikely duo, Morgie was well aware of that, but something about her made him feel at peace. As if he was safe with her. But that was January and February, when deadlines didn’t hang over them as if threatening to fall and crush them. Now as flowers begin to take up every bush on campus and the snow is finally gone, meetings have doubled and Morgie can’t seem to find enough time outside of the dark room. Or if he does manage to get out of the dark room -and not have plans with the other villains- (Y/n) is too busy hunched over a type writer or a notepad for him. Considering he didn’t know how he felt about her two months ago, he seemed oddly lonely without her presence. 

    To say that Morgie got too attached would be the understatement of the year. Through every bubbling giggle and gentle brush of her fingers the sorcerer went from being unsure about her to absolutely infatuated with her. She felt safe, of course he craved that, but there was something else. Something intoxicating about her that he couldn’t help but to crave. Morgie should be embarrassed, he shouldn’t feel this way about her at all, and yet, all he can think about is asking her to the end of the year formal. About a pink tie with his dark suit and a sparkling gown accompanying her glowing complexion. There was nothing to take his mind off of it when he was alone in the dark room like he was now, and he knew better than thinking about his friends like that. At least, he thinks that she’s his friend. The boy shakes his head, as if the motion can clear his thoughts, hanging up the last of the photos that needs to develop so it can dry. He needed to get out of the dark room, maybe go find Hook or someone else who could occupy the quiet spot in his mind.

    He doesn’t expect anyone to be in Madam Jinx’s room when he slips through the door, but to say the sorceress standing over that table was a disappointment would be a lie. He smiles, idling up behind her to peer over her shoulder, eyes flickering over her late night work. Pictures of the two of them are laid out around her, as well as her paragraphs on both of their mothers and what a sorcerer is. She’s moving the slips of paper seemingly aimlessly around the scrap book paper in front of her, the pages a muted yellow tone that matched the rest of that year’s "Excalibur" to a t. “What are you doing in here this late?” He keeps his voice soft, careful not to scare her as he lets his hands come to rest on either side of his friend. Effectively trapping her between himself and the surface before her. (Y/n) slightly jumps at the sound of his voice, taking in a sharp inhale as she does. “Don’t scare me like that.” He whispers a sorry in her ear, leaning over her shoulder to look at the pages. 

    “Try alternating the pictures and the bodies of text, and put the explanation of what a sorcerer is over the top of both pages.” She hums, tilting her head as she picks up the pieces just to drop them back down again, “Show me?” Morgie picks up the picture of him smiling, just to move it aside and grab the picture of him smoldering. “First of all, I look better in this one,” there’s a teasing tone hanging off of his words as he places the photo a centimeter away from the outer edge of the left piece of scrapbook paper. Next, shifting the writing about Morgana over until it’s about two centimeters from the inner edge, the words lower down as to avoid any overlap. He does the opposites with her pictures and the information about Glinda, leaving an open space between their two photos with either body of text next to one another. Finally, he takes the paragraph on what a sorcerer was, letting it fall between their pictures, “There, how’s that?”

   He leans a little further off of her as he speaks, watching as she tilts her head from side to side, taking it in. Then, with that picture perfect smile but no warning she turns on her toes to face him, making Morgie suddenly deeply aware of how close the two of them happen to be. She doesn’t pay it any mind though, smiling up at him with a hand slipping onto his cheek, “Morgie le Fay, you might just be a genius, do you know that?” He's not sure if it's the praise or the physical contact, but suddenly he can’t seem to control himself. Not with the way she’s smiling at him and the feeling of her soft palm against his face. Morgie finds himself leaning into her lips, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses her. The motion is soft and gentle and just as he realizes what he’s doing, he goes to pull away. (Y/n) starts kissing back though, her other hand coming up to his neck and pulling him ever so slightly closer, effectively keeping the boy against her lips. He’s still the first to pull away though, eyes fluttering open as he looks down at her flustered little smile and half lidded eyes. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I-” But she laughs, cutting him off as she softly rubs his cheek with a smile, “It’s just like I told you Morgie, pink goes good with green.”

[lyranova]

Hii! I love your fics!! May I please request a oneshot where yami's squad member (y/n) turns into a baby / child (whichever is better), and brings her to the captains ' meeting as he has no other choice? (y/n) calls everyone dad / mom and it makes them all super soft for her? like yami is first annoyed then softens up, nozel is straight up rude as usual but everyone glares at him for that (cause they're so protective of her already uwu) and he ends up being soft for her too. idk, this was a 2 am thought im sorry!! thank you for taking requests 😭💞

Hiya anon! No worries 2am thoughts are always fine and fun, tbh I tend to get them a lot myself 😆! Aw thank you so much I’m so glad you like my fics, and you’re welcome, I enjoy taking requests! It gives me something fun and different to do 🥰! Of course you may and I hope you all enjoy~!

Word Count: 1,325

Warnings: None

———

Yami didn’t know how this happened, she was fine when she left on a mission with Asta and Noelle, but when they all came back she was a baby! When he asked them what the hell happened Asta and Noelle explained that it was the bad guys magic; he could make people really old, or really young!

Yami had ordered them to take her back to the mage and force him to change her back but Noelle explained that they tried, but the mage said his spell would only wear off in 24 hours. So for now…they were stuck with her being a toddler!

She was still able to walk at least, talking on the other hand…well she was only able to say a handful of words, mainly ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’. Which kind of bothered Yami since he didn’t want to be called ‘daddy’ by a member of his squad, but she wasn't really eager to learn ‘Yami’ at the moment he would have to deal with it for now.

Yami fully intended to leave her at the squad as he went to a Captain’s meeting, but when Yami began to ask who wanted to be in charge of their toddler squadmate every single Black Bull scattered like leaves in a gust of wind.

Which was how he ended up in his current situation; in the Captain’s meeting room, with his toddler squadmate sitting in his lap, as the other Captain’s ‘oohed’ and ‘awwed’ over her.

“ Aw look how adorable she is! I didn’t know you had a baby Yami!” Dorothy said as she began to use her Glamour World magic to create small toys to keep her entertained. Charlotte crossed her arms as she looked at the child.

‘Yami had a child?! Why didn’t he say anything? Does that mean he’s married or has a committed partner? Or is the child a product of a one night stand? Yami doesn’t seem to be the type to do that though, so he must have someone! Why didn’t he say anything, I’m so jealous of her, why didn’t I confess to him sooner?!’ Charlotte’s mind raced as she stared at the little girl, she didn’t look like Yami, but that could easily be explained away. The girl looked at Charlotte with wide eyes before she smiled brightly and reached her arms out towards the Briar mage.

“ Mommy?” She asked cutely before her smile widened. “ Mommy!”

Charlotte and Dorothy’s hearts quickly melted and they both couldn’t help but say ‘How Cute~!’. Yami sighed and shook his head.

“ The Prickly Princess ain’t your mom, and I’m not her dad. She’s a member of my squad who got turned into a toddler on a mission earlier. The other brats took off running when I asked them to baby sit her.” Yami explained as he held the small girl still. She looked up at him with a pout but did stop moving.

“ I see, so how long will she be like this?” Fuegoleon asked as he placed a thoughtful hand under his chin, the girl looked at him for a moment before her bright smile returned.

“ Daddy!” She shouted brightly and with a giggle, Fuegoleon’s brows raised in surprise and a small smile appeared on his face.

“ I’m sorry to say that I’m not your father little one.” Fuegoloen told her gently as he patted her on the head, the little girl pouted.

“ She seems to only be able to say ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’, which makes sense since she’s only like 1 or 2.” Yami said in an unsure tone, Rill tilted his head.

“ I think she’s closer to a year and a half! Babies are generally able to walk by the time they’re one, and can talk in short sentences by the age of two, so logically she should be somewhere in between since she can walk but not really talk!” Rill said thoughtfully as he stared at the young girl.

“ How the hell do you know that kid?” Jack asked with a frown and Rill suddenly laughed sheepishly.

“ Me and my squad sometimes volunteer at the orphanages in the city and the sisters explained it to me when I tried to have a group of kids tell me about their paintings.” Rill explained and the others nodded.

The little girls eyes moved to Nozel, who was sitting in his seat with his eyes closed and arms crossed, ignoring her effectively.

“ Daddy…?” She asked hesitantly and Nozel’s eyes shot open and he glared coldly at her.

“ I’m not your father, and I wish you would refrain from calling me that.” He told the girl, his tone as cold as ice, the little girl jumped for a moment before her eyes welled up with tears.

The girl began to cry and wail at the top of her lungs, everyone glared openly at Nozel.

“ What the hell did you do that for braid boy?!” Yami asked as he and the others tried to console the toddler and Nozel’s eyes widened a bit.

“ Geez Nozel she’s just a baby, can’t you be just a little nicer with her?” Dorothy asked as she put her hands on her hips and had a angry look on her face. Nozel’s cheeks turned a shade of pink and he looked away.

“ Don’t listen to him brat,” Yami said to the toddler as he gently patted her head. “ You can call of us ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ as much as you like. And ignore him.” Yami instructed them as his hand moved away from her head and began to wipe away her tears.

“ Yeah! Nozel’s just jealous because he doesn’t have a cool baby of his own!” Rill said as he crossed his arms, and Jack looked over at the Silver Eagles Captain.

“ Even I’m not that big of a jerk to kids bird boy.” He muttered with a shake of his head, Nozel sighed loudly before turning to look at them all.

“ I’m not jealous and I’m not angry at the child!” Nozel shouted accidentally, causing everyones eyes to widen. “ It’s just…” He glanced over at Dorothy, and she suddenly realized why he was acting the way he was.

Seeing that little girl was bringing up a lot of painful memories for him, so all he knew to do was lash out in order to hide his true emotions.

“ It’s just that a Captain’s meeting is no place for a child as young as her. Here, we talk about and see so many terrible things that it could easily traumatize someone as young as her for life. Don’t you think it would be better for her to remain innocent to the horrors of the world just a little longer?” Nozel asked with a sigh.

“ Uh, she’s already seen the horrors of the world remember? She’s actually a Magic Knight?” Yami pointed out in confusion, causing Nozel’s face to turn a brighter red.

“ Nozel does have a point. A Captain’s meeting is no place for a young child,” Fuegoloen agreed before he reached out to take her from Yami. “ So I suggest that she stay with Marx for the time being, and once the meetings over Yami can take her back. Alright?” He watched as all the others nodded and he carefully carried the child through the doors and to Marx.

The meeting ended fairly quickly and now Yami was heading back to the Black Bulls Hideout. After being full of energy all day she had finally wore herself out and was sound asleep in Yami’s arms. He chuckled a bit as he looked down at her, as much as he didn’t want to babysit her at first, he had to admit it was a nice change of pace and he was actually going to miss her being this small.

At least until she woke up and began to torment everyone again, then he wouldn’t be able to wait until she transformed back into her normal self again.

———

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[nightcolorz]

I stumbled on your blog and i love it sm!!

Its so weird, because i am a huge Marius fan, and you put many reasons why he is my absolute favorite character as things why he SUCKS! Its so cool to me, to read something so accurate and then have someone put out a completely different opinion on it! (i do not think he is Good, none of them are. But i think he is cool, his better qualities resonate with me the most of all the characters, i love lore, and i love reading about him the most)

There are few things, that i do not understand and it bothers me endlessly! I just can't figure out where some readings come from, very sinserely (because i want to respect other readings and interpretations), maybe you could help me understand?

First: that Marius dislikes being challenged and tries to "keep Armand to himself"(generalizing) - as i read it, Marius prefers people who challenge him, can stand up to him. All of his paramours are like that - Pandora, Bianca, Armand, Lestat, Daniel..even Botticelli actively defy him, in a way other characters don't and Marius himself is vocal on that being something he admires about them. He does not know how to deal with that, oh no, but he loves it - the fire he himself does not possess. He also actively helps Armand learn about his culture and family, ready to be left behind when they visit Kievan Rus. He also never shows any type of concern about Armands "daytime" personal connections. As i remember, he encourages it decpite objections, actually.. My personal reading is that most drama and abuse between Marius and Armand is about Marius refusing the codependency Armand desperatly wants. (and them being oppisitely unhealthy about that)

Second: there is a notion, that Marius would not want Armand to grow up? And i do not understand where it comes from at all... Marius actively states (and thinks) that his own wish is to see Armand grown into a Man and he refuses time and time again to turn him before then (or to turn him at all) , until Armand is on the deaths door. (i also saw a thing about shaving, but all of them are shaved before the turning as an old ritual, canonically, i believe, only Santino is unshaved so. I might be wrong tho lol. One of canon reasons (again, if my memories are not faulty) - facial and body hair might go in and out of style, so clean shave helps them blend in better)

I you would spare some time to let me understand where those come from i would be forever grateful, because i sometimes think i am blind (and i might be! Thats why i ask. I am a bit scared that i might be percieved in bad faith, but if i have a blindspot i will not see it myself, so getting outside help is the only way haha)

I hope you have a great day! Thnx for the very least reading my ask!

(this is going to be slightly shorter then I initially wanted it to be bcus I wrote a whole essay and tumblr DELETED IT, so I’m so sorry ur going to get a condescend version of my thoughts 😰 I hope they still make sense, anyways)

Thank u sm anon ur so nice omg 🥹❤️ it makes me so happy that u like my blog!!! Don’t worry at all about coming off as bad faith u only come off as respectful and curious to me. I’m going to answer ur questions the best I can! 🙏

I think that the reason a lot of my Marius posts seem to contradict parts of canon is bcus Marius is a very self contradictory character. His wants are often in conflict with each other, and in his relationship with Armand he is always warring between conflicting desires.

First: I definitely agree that Marius seeks out people who challenge him and does rlly enjoy it (to an extent lol). but the way I perceive it, marius likes to be challenged *to an extent*. He doesn’t want a partner who will be weak and docile with him, he wants a partner he’ll need to fight into being docile and he wants to loose that fight<3.He prefers someone with some fire in them, clearly, based on his choice of lovers lol. And I think this is bcus Marius likes the chase, like any vampire. He likes the thrill of being with someone who makes him hurt for it a little bit, he likes fighting and arguing and struggling to stifle a spark he knows is too bright to put out. But also, like most ppl lol, Marius likes to be challenged only so much as he isn’t challenged to the point of having to change himself. He doesn’t want to change his perspective, whenever a partner of his gets him to rethink how he thinks or acts he tends to get rlly mad. He wants to be challenged as long as it’s fun, if he’s uncomfortable or feeling like he might actually adopt a new perspective or change as a person he puts a stop to it. At the end of the day he needs that teacher and student or master and subordinate dynamic to stay in tact. He likes to be challenged but he doesn’t like to be weakened or caught off guard in anyway that makes him question his authority or his strength.

When it comes to Marius helping Armand rediscover his culture, yas! This actually is a good transition bcus this is also a good example of what I’m talking about when it comes to the being challenged thing. Marius is happy and eager to help Armand heal from the demons of his past by rediscovering the family and culture hes forgotten, so long as Armand is obedient and answering to his call at the end of the day. Marius is happy to be left on the sidelines, up until armand starts disregarding his authority and moving away from him on his own path. After coming home from Kiev Armand realizes that he doesn’t gain anything from learning from Marius and he would rather learn on his own by discovering himself and processing what this new culture means to him. And Marius let’s him have this, until he realizes that he’s loosing his control over Amadeo and he is not going to come back to him without a push, and he beats the absolute shit out of him 😭 again, challenged to an extent.

Second: when marius first buys Armand he explains in blood and gold that part of why he chose Armand was bcus he wanted a vampire companion in Bianca, but he felt too guilty to turn Bianca bcus she was a bright young woman with a future ahead of her, so he chose Armand to be his future vampire companion instead bcus Armand was broken enough to not have a chance of a future anyway (therefore turning him is guilt free). Then, marius learns very quickly that Armand could easily have a future just as bright as Bianca, once he’s under his care he starts to prosper, and he realizes that turning him into a vampire would be equally as cruel as turning Bianca. So his motive changes, and he decides that his desire to turn Armand is wrong and he should instead give him the chance to live a full human life just like any of the other boys. Marius wants this bcus he knows that it’s the right thing to do, to give up the person he loves for their own good. But it’s also, deep down, not what he wants at all, bcus it agonizes him to think of a future where he doesn’t have Amadeo. So this creates this self contradictory mess, where Marius is aiming both at the same time to turn Armand into a vampire and also to let him live a human life. He starts doing contradictory things, like feeding Armand his blood and exposing him to vampirism + getting him hooked on it, and then sending him out to “experience humanity” bcus that’s what Marius wants for him.

It caused Armand to be driven absolutely insane, bcus he’s being communicated two different things about what Marius wants for his future. I think Marius’s conflicting desire causes part of Armand’s desperate begging for him to turn him. Armand is so fed up with this mind melding conflict he just wants Marius to rip the band aid off and do it 😭 cuz they both know it’s what they both want. And Marius knows that this is the terrible abusive option, and he can’t get Armand to see this bcus Armand is too far deep in his love brain.

So my answer is, Marius wants Armand to grow up bcus he knows that’s what’s best for him, but he continues to hold out on the possibility of vampirism and refuses to cut ties with Armand bcus he rlly does want to turn him against his better judgement, which in my opinion reads as a desire to keep him young, under his control, in that limbo stage where he doesn’t need to make a decision. Partly bcus if Armand is young and compliant and his body isn’t changing the clock isn’t ticking and Marius doesn’t have to confront that his choices r either loose Amadeo or ruin him.

when it comes to the “shaving Armand was part of a vampire ritual” personally I don’t remember that? It’s not that I don’t believe u, that could totally be accurate and it definitely sounds like smth that would be canon, but I’m struggling to remember if I read that and forgot. I’ve always perceived the Marius shaves Armand cuz he wants to preserve his youth thing as accurate bcus it’s interesting and makes sense for the characters and I don’t remember anything that contradicts it lol, I also don’t remember any other character being shaved pre turning as a ritual besides Armand so I didn’t consider if it was a vampire thing. but u could be right and if so oops I’m sorry for spreading misinfo 😭 but either way that’s still gonna be my headcanon and my interpretation is much the same lol

I hope u have a great day anon and find this interesting ❤️ thank u for the ask!

[nvuy]

HII i'm the anon from before who asked for writing advice !! thank you so much for answering omg (≧▽≦)

i'm not gonna start the tumblr blog idea 'til i actually feel confident in my writing (and already have a few things i can post), which i don't at the moment!

i really wanna write self-indulgent fics and if someone happens to relate then that's great!! thing is, my writing feels bland at the moment and rarely do i have any ideas to actually make into a fic (unlike right now. my brain's flooded with ideas all of a sudden..)

point is! i wanna give my writing a sort of descriptive/poetic feel and i know for sure a wide vocabulary isn't enough, even though it *is* a huge part of the style,, if that makes sense. how should i go about this? so sorry if i'm bothering u with all these writing questions!!!

enjoy the rest of your week nd stay cool <33

ur not bothering me at all, lovely. dont worry about it. i think i am the queen of self indulgent fics so there’s nothing to stress abt and i enjoy explaining how my stupid brain works.

description ;

a wide range of vocabulary isn’t necessary. it helps to know some special words and you’re welcome to incorporate them, but some of the best poetry ive read comes from its simplicity. a lot of people dont really want to read constant droning description; as much as i enjoy writing it myself, i hate authors like charles dickens with a passion. you can tell when a writer was being paid per word rather than how many times the book sells. and fuck his stupid ass christmas book.

a tip i can give you is to do what i do, which is to hand pick words depending on the scene.

i’ll use an example because i know that made zero sense: picture a very basic fairycore forest with pink plants and fireflies. this setting, from the description alone, should explain that this forest is a nice and small tucked away and pretty place. we add a stream that runs along the treeline. let’s describe the stream specifically. which sentence sounds better to you?

The white waters that part the soil flow down the centre of the earth, and divide the trees in two.

The clear waters that part the dirt splash down the middle of the path, and section the forest in two.

now, im hoping to the gods that you think the first one is better. the sentences are exactly the same in terms of definition, and the description depicts the same thing, but its the words used that make the first sentence softer, and therefore the setting seems a lot more peaceful by default.

if you use words with harder and rougher consonants throughout—i’m not telling you to avoid them—will make the sentence sound rougher, at least to me. harder sounds like ‘t’ and ‘k,’ as an example. words like ‘white’ i think, despite the hard ending, are still particularly softer, because the ‘wh’ sound at the beginning serves almost as a counterbalance. it’s why the word ‘clear’ sounds rougher; because it starts with a harder sound despite its softer ending.

it has nothing to do with magical sixteen letter words that nobody understands. learning new big words is cool and you’re welcome to use them, but if i see you writing: And the river is so beautiful, so stupendous, so marvelous, so loquacious… i will kill you with my bare hands.

something i also avoid is repeating the same words over and over again. using the stream as an example still, if you’re going to refer to it again and again, dont just use the word ‘stream.’ you sound like a parrot. change it up. look up synonyms if you’re not sure, or simply describe it also as ‘the water.’ the thesaurus is your best friend.

sometimes you can repeat words to emphasise them, or the passing of times. you can do this, but make sure it appears deliberate.

example:

even in confiteor when i was forced to write the word ‘cock’ 5600 times, i broke it up. frankly because i dont really know what other word to use that doesn’t sound awkward or cringe, so in between verses, i tossed in exposition, internal musings, thoughts and feelings, etc, to change up the repeated use of the word.

i Hope… that made sense . .

dropping cliches ;

cliches are inherently bad things, but there’s a lot of things you can do to differentiate stereotypical phrases and such from the norm.

for example: a confession “i love you.”

BORINGGGGG. put it in the bin (im kidding but you can make it more interesting or heartfelt).

observe the typical: “im in love with you.”

now, in my opinion, it’s better than the former. it sounds more sincere. ‘i love you’ on its own could refer to many different types of love, but “im in love with you” is romance.

scrap the obvious and toss out the word ‘love:’ “i’ll never grow tired of your voice.”

now obviously poetic prose wont always work depending on the character doing the confessing. i could imagine someone like argenti prattling and waxing poetry for nine hours.

someone like boothill, however, in all of his inelegance, you can have more fun with.

observe again: “i trust you.”

“but wait nvuy that’s not a love confession.” it’s called subtly. and, if you’ve written it correctly, i shouldnt have to hear a ‘i love you’ to understand that the two people you’re writing about are in love. i should be able to understand that through interactions and exchanges beyond that. i based old habits around that; you didnt have to see the mc and scaramouche smooch to know that they were in love.

there’s so many ways to explain the feelings of romance without saying “[X] was in love with [Y].” UNLESS you use it for a comedic and abrupt effect that the character themselves is feeling, and not so much you as the narrator telling your audience that the character is in love.

the romance you write can be slow and gentle or quick or hostile or muddied or confusing. make it so through words and actions. it’s all in the ‘show don’t tell.’

so if you want to combine my tips you can write your own gooey gross romantic self indulgent fics just like me and then force feed them to your friends YIPPEEEEEE

[soapyghostie]

hello!! i adore your writing style and i finally mustered up enough courage to submit my own ask, but feel free to discard it if its too specific! i was wondering whether you could write something for pyramid head and mikey myers with a reader who has paranoia/anxiety? something where they explain to their murderous partner that being sneaked up on makes it worse? gender of reader is irrelevant 2 me! tysm in advance :D

Awwwww! Thank you Anon! I’m so glad you enjoy my writing! 🤗 I enjoyed writing this one. I can totally relate with anxiety so this gave me a sense of comfort. I hope you like it!

Pyramid Head

Pyramid Head could sense something was off about you the first time you guys met. He could see the way you cowered into yourself, looking in all directions for danger as you took your first steps into Silent Hill. 

Obviously, he doesn’t know what anxiety is. He is definitely no human or has any experiences with humans and their world. 

You’re going to have to tell him what anxiety is. Pyramid head is pretty understanding and a great listener. Oh? That’s what anxiety is. Have no fear! Pyramid Head is here! Yeah… He’ll get the other monsters to baby proof Silent Hill. At least he is trying. 🤷‍♀️

One time, Pyramid Head was out patrolling for enemies and he saw you. You had your back turned to him, working on one of your hobbies. He wanted to say hi to you before he went to finish up the rest of his patrol. He walked up behind you, silently. He thought you’d maybe have heard him coming, but he was wrong. He tapped you on your shoulder and you freaked out, having the worst panic attack of your life. He felt really bad afterwards. ☹️ 

You had to explain to him that being sneaked up on makes your anxiety worse. From then on, he made sure to make some sort of noise to let you know he was somewhere nearby.

Michael Myers

Michael knew you had anxiety long before you guys even met. Ya know? The usual stalk before the kill. However, he never expected that you and him would become a thing instead of being his latest victim. 

Even though Michael knows what anxiety is, because a lot of other patients had anxiety, he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He’s been in an asylum his whole life, but he’ll learn for you though. 🙂   

By learning, Michael will stalk you 24/7, 7 days a week. He finds out what triggers your anxiety and what keeps you calm. Do large groups make you anxious? He’ll snatch you right out of that crowd, take you home and cuddle you. Do plushies help you with anxiety? He’ll go steal all the plushies out of the toy aisle in Walmart. Don’t ask him how he didn’t get caught. He’s just built different. 

Well what Michael did miss is that you get awful anxiety attacks when you get sneaked up on. Idk how he didn’t observe that because he is super observant, but he did. Anyways, he makes the mistake of sneaking up on you while making dinner and dinner goes up in flames. Good job Michael. 

You had to sit him down and tell him that your anxiety gets badly triggered when people sneak up on you. That made Michael sad because he loves sneaking up on people. Sorry Michael. However, to apologize for scaring you, he does give you one of his big bear hugs. 🙂

[altocat]

OK HI HELLO TRANSLATION ANON HERE!

Dissidia just destroyed me with the new Angeal chapter. There WERE, in fact, Sephiroth and Angeal interactions and they hurt, I will tell you. I actually almost cried. The angst was incredible.

It’s very hard to translate everything because there was so much dialogue, but I will do my best to summarize below:

So, Angeal is back and he was talking with Cloud’s group, trying to catch up on everything. He seems to have no idea what happened past his death, which makes sense. For now, Cloud is just trying to save Tifa who is in danger with a few other characters.

Angeal helps Cloud and they actually end up facing Sephiroth, who is on his usual “Hahaha eat despair, kids!” BS and is after some energy crystals because power, blah blah. Seph is fighting Cloud and attacking the others like usual, but poor Angeal has no clue why at first.

He very much approaches his old companion with his lecturing “dad friend” tone and says, “Sephiroth, explain yourself! That was crossing the boundaries of just a training exercise!”

He is baffled and says that they were both soliders, wondering if the “company” aka Shinra ordered Seph to attack the others.

Seph just laughs it off and tells Angeal to move out of his way. Angeal is visibly disturbed and asked Sephiroth what’s wrong with his facial expression (presumably Seph’s malicious smirking as usual). Angeal says to not joke around like this, saying he doesn’t understand what’s going on and that Seph seems different—he seems…changed.

The others, mainly Cloud, are trying to tell him that “the Sephiroth of the present” is not the same as the one Angeal knew. They say that present Sephiroth is cruel and unforgiving and that he burned down Nibelheim.

Angeal is very upset and can’t believe it. He shakes his head sorrowfully and saying that Sephiroth was always very selective of the decisions he made, so the idea that he would commit such atrocities is astounding. That’s when Angeal turns around and asks Sephiroth, “Don’t tell me….were you one of them too? Did you deteriorate like Genesis? You too?”

He immediately assumes that it must have been the degradation that made Sephiroth do what he did, but Sephiroth seems to get upset and shakes his head, saying that “they have nothing to talk about!”

(Liar lol).

Angeal goes straight for the elephant in the room and asks,

“Sephiroth…are you angry with me? I’m sorry I disappeared without telling you…but…(referring to “we have nothing to talk about) is your demeanor/behavior towards anyone that asks you for a reason/for answers. Just tell me what happened!”

Basically, Angeal is demanding that Sephiroth explain and communicate instead of just dismissing it. Angeal says this in one fiery swoop, darting at Seph with his sword, and shockingly, he manages to knock the latter back, who gasps in surprise. Angeal can’t believe it and says that Seph is losing his grip, and that it’s very unlike him.

Sephiroth literally says “You’re making me stumble/shake…I need to get rid of you.”

We get the idea that Angeal’s presence is actually messing with Sephiroth and making him weaker…very likely with hesitation. Needless to say, Seph is angered and a battle starts with him saying

“Go away, Angeal. Your presence is discomforting…”

More angst!

Angeal responds,

“Look, maybe we weren’t in the type of relationship where we could confide in each other for everything….but I haven’t stopped thinking about you guys (Seph and Gen), hoping that you at least didn’t turn out like me…so just let me ask you….is there anything I can still do (to help)?”

(I am gonna cry. Angeal nooo).

Cloud yells at Angeal to stop because there is just no way to reach Sephiroth :(

Anyway, they fight and Angeal notes in horror that Sephiroth’s power is extreme and he is way too strong to be degrading. He asks himself,

“Sephiroth…what happened to you? What power is this?”

And now for the angst cherry on top of the whole thing:

Sephiroth gets pissed at the whole thing even more. He says, “Enough!” and goes after Cloud with his usual “Remember me, Cloud” nonsense and tries to charge. Angeal yells for him to wait and jumps in front of Cloud to save him.

Seph’s sword stabs through Angeal’s shoulder and it really looks like this freaks Seph out because he jumps back immediately, presumably in shock. Angeal falls down and is hurt, which prompts the others to ask if he’s okay.

He brushes it off even though he can’t get up yet and shifts his attention to Sephiroth again. His words are so sad…he says,

“I don’t know what to do. Everything has changed so much since then. I know I’m not supposed to now…but I want to stay by your side until the end this time…so please…Sephiroth…just talk to me…”

Guys, I was pretty much crying lol. I will cover the next part in a second ask because this one is too long, but chew on this pain for now. It really stung, this whole chapter…and Angeal breaking down in this scene was hard to see.

Jesus fucking christ.

Jesus H. Christ.

FUck.

FUCK.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Omfg congrats on the 2222! I’m sure many more to come!

Alright , hear me out. This idea consumed my brain the entire weekend.

AU Stripper!Frankie

I know, kinda out of character for him, but I can’t help it.

I recently « stumble » upon Magic Men of Australia on tik tok and instantly my mind went to Frankie.

Reader could be at his show and he chose her to come up on stage … after that , you write what you want .

What do you think Cee ?

Sweet anon - I am saving the best for last! Ngl, I might have drooled several times while writing stripper!Frankie. I might also have blacked out when I first saw your ask, thank you for sending in this delicious request. I hope you enjoy this cheeky oneshot, because 1.4k does not count as a drabble 😂 This reminds me of my dearest LJ's @prolix-yuy SW!Frankie universe, do go read it if you haven't yet!

Frankie Morales x stripper AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1460 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, bachelorette party (mis)behaviour, mentions of food

Okay, this is definitely not your scene.

The said scene being a rowdy bachelorette party in an intimate, soundproofed room draped in plush dark velvet and deep-seated sofas, disco lights pulsing in time with the booming bass that shakes your bones. 

And oh, and there’s a half-naked stripper gyrating to the music. Obviously.

Not that he doesn’t look good doing it. He absolutely does, and not in that chiselled, perfectly sculpted way you imagined all strippers would look like. He’s hot in a realistic way, if that makes sense - his arms are strong, his chest is broad and firm, but there’s just a touch of softness to his tummy that makes him human. 

It’s been a long, long time since you’ve seen a naked man. Heck, who are you kidding, when was the last time you even saw a topless man?

But he might as well be completely starkers. The shorts he’s wearing are glorified panties, paper thin, and they do nothing to conceal the fact that he’s hung. You can see the whole business, front and back. For someone as well packed as he is between the legs, his behind is endearingly flat, but mercifully, it doesn’t seem to compromise his balance in any way.

The lean muscles in his arms flex and roll when he locks his hands behind his head, thighs bulging with corded muscle as he plants his feet, and then he thrusts - his bulge swinging heavily, defying gravity. 

He’s got to be half-hard, at least. There’s no way he’s that big standing at ease, so to speak. 

Of course, the girls are going wild. They’re screaming and hyperventilating, Cosmpolitans sloshing over manicured nails and staining their dresses as they throw dollar bills at him. He obliges, crawling onto the couch on all fours so that they can tuck the cash into the waistband of his shorts, copping a feel as they do.

Frankie doesn’t mind it. He plays along, grabbing the bride-to-be’s wrist after she smacks him on the ass, shoving her back into the couch before clambering over her. Getting onto his knees, he dances right in her face, grinning when she squeals and reaches around his waist to grab both his ass cheeks as he rolls his hips.

His eyes slide over to you, sitting a polite distance away as the other girls crowd around him, getting close and personal, not wanting to miss out on the action.

You, on the other hand, look like you’d rather be curled up in the far corner with a book and a warm drink. But he can tell that you’re trying your best, sipping away at your cocktail (with an endearing wince that you try to hide when you swallow), and bobbing to the music even though you’re clearly feeling out of place around your more outgoing friends.

Being the quiet one out of the guys, he gravitates towards your energy. 

Frankie always makes sure all of his customers have a good time in his session and that no one is left out, but he also wants you to be comfortable. Quietening his hips, he hops off the couch, taking two steps towards you, watching as your eyes widen, as if you want to bolt.

One corner of his lips inching upwards, he unfurls his fingers towards you, and the smile widens when you fit your smaller hand in the heart of his palm with a shy one of your own. Pulling you gently onto your feet, he surprises you with a firm tug next, spinning you around with your back to his chest. 

You smell sweet, like shampoo and soap. Not letting go of your hand, he puts his other one on your hip, and you instantly stiffen when your friends screech in excitement, obviously not used to being the centre of attention. 

Hooking his chin on your shoulder, he sways you to the music, his hips snug against yours. He feels you inhale sharply when his breath skims your skin, the shiver that goes through you unmistakable. He revels in your reaction, far more real and intimate than your friends’ drunken wandering hands. 

You slowly thaw in his arms, the tension easing out of your shoulders where the straps of your pretty dress sit, and he knows that you don’t mean to tease when the swell of your ass brushes his front, bolder as you move your hips to the beat.

When the song draws to a close far too soon, he turns you around, wrapping one arm around your waist to dip you backwards. You let go of his hand to grasp the back of his neck on reflex, and he takes the opportunity to glide one palm up the smooth expanse of your leg, before hitching it around his waist.

He sees more than hears the whimper that slips past your lips, and he may or may not be half-hard when he presses his hips between your thighs.

As your friends holler and wolf-whistle around you, he holds your gaze, not missing how your pupils blow wide in the flashing lights.

Then you duck your head, and he lets you go, the bride-to-be demanding his attention.

You happily fade into the background again, but he catches the way your knees buckle when you wobble on your heels back to the sofa.

You’re fucking adorable. 

The guys are tallying the tips for the bookkeeper in the break room when Pope comes in with a phone in his hand. ‘Fish, one of your customers left this behind. Do you know whose it is?’

Tapping on the lock screen - he sucks in a breath when you appear, posing with a big golden retriever. Your face is turned up into the sun, eyes closed in mid-laugh as the dog licks you on your cheek.

With a grunt, Frankie gets on his feet, a dull ache in the small of his back, which always happens when he thrusts a bit too vigorously. Tucking the phone safely in his pocket, he grabs his jacket and strides out, not seeing the guys looking curiously after him as he tosses over his shoulder, ‘Send me her address, Pope, I’ll drop it off.’

You jump when your laptop wakes up with a shrill ringtone. Clicking the green button, your best friend’s voice comes through the speakers. 

‘Hon, the strip club just called. You left your phone there.’

With a groan, your palm meets your forehead in a smack. ‘Oh shit, it always happens when I drink! Should I go pick it up, or -’

‘Don’t worry, I gave them your address.’

‘Wait, what? You gave them my address?’

‘Relax, they’re strippers, not serial killers.’

You shift your feet nervously. ‘Do you know who’s coming?’

‘The one who danced for us today, you lucky bitch.’

Your heart almost leaps out of your mouth as you panic. ‘What the - but I’ve taken off all my make up and I’m not wearing a bra, and I got fucking chili on the stove -’

Your doorbell rings, and you whisper, ‘Shit, he’s here!’

‘Say hi to the hottie for me, babe! Night!’

Padding on bare feet towards the door, you take a deep breath, and reach for the knob.

Warm brown eyes meet yours, but not before they dart over your wet hair and pyjamas. You cross your arms self-consciously, knowing that he must have caught a glimpse of your nipples under your thin sleep shirt.

He smiles, handing you the phone. ‘Glad I caught you before you went to bed.’

Jesus H. Christ. It really is a blessing that you didn’t know what he sounded like when he had his clothes off - 

You barely manage to squeak, your cheeks heating up. ‘Thanks so much for bringing it by, it was so clumsy of me.’

He shrugs easily, his gray tshirt bunching with the movement. ‘Happens. You’ll be surprised what people leave behind.’

‘What?’ you prompt, curiosity piqued.

‘I don’t strip and tell,’ he winks. ‘I’m Frankie, by the way.’

A handshake seems redundant after your close encounter earlier, so you give him your name and a smile. You admit, ‘I almost didn’t recognize you.’

He taps the beak of his cap. ‘It’s the hat.��

‘I like you better with clothes on,’ you blurt out impulsively, the alcohol still running thick through your veins.

He chuckles. ‘You might be the only one.’

He glances over your shoulder, breathing in the smell of simmering beef mince and tomatoes. ‘Are you cooking chili?’

You bite your lip. ‘Guilty. Case of midnight munchies.’

‘It smells delicious,’ he compliments you, lingering by the doorway and making no move to leave.

Emboldened, you ask, ‘Do you want some? I made way too much, as usaul.’

He grins, and it goes straight to your head. ‘I’d love to.’

[mmmfanfiction]

Hi!! Ik your probably stressed bc ur really active XD but I hope you drink some water and get some rest. When you find the time to write could I request a flippy/flipqy x reader Christmas head cannons?

Also if your doing the anon thing could I be -🌹 anon ?

Thats super sweet of you, anon! I hope that you’re getting a bunch of water and rest too! Sorry this came in so late, I started writing but didn’t finish. However I did give myself the deadline of Christmas which helped me actually finish this (finishing things on the deadline gang) anyway, I hope you like it!

warnings: mentions of death, literally nothing else just me imagining Fliqpy being like a lethal house cat-

Flippy

🧸I like to think Christmas is like a sense of nostalgia for Flippy.

🧸Like he’s done it his entire life, so it brings him back to his childhood.

🧸Flippy defo decorates, but not in the overboard, as soon as thanksgiving ends, everything’s lit up kind of way.

🧸More of a chill decorator. Doesn’t go all out but theirs definitely decoration.

🧸However if your one of those big decorators he will definitely help out with some things. Also he won’t let you go on the roof unless your experienced. Even then he’s like hovering below you.

🌹”Babe I’m not gonna fall, you don’t have to follow me wherever I go with that pillow.”

🧸”But I don’t want you to get hurt :(“

🧸I feel like he knows how to make REALLY good hot cocoa

🧸Like, tastes like it’s straight from heaven.

🧸He makes amazing cookies too.

🧸Also crochets cute little Christmas sweaters.

🧸Even makes matching ones.

🧸Flip definitely puts lots of thought into gifts.

🧸Like he will ask everyone you know just to gauge the best thing to get for you.

🧸His wrapping looks really good!….. if you don’t look at the bottom-

🧸Is open to trying new traditions. Like if you have a bit more spice added to your Christmas traditions then he’ll try them out too!

🧸Has like really obscure but also really sweet Christmas movies.

🧸Also old ones, like the stop motion Rudolf the reigndeer. 

🧸Just please don’t let him watch nightmare before Christmas, or at least avoid the one scene where the military starts shooting down Jack. That will not be a good time for either of you, especially not poor Flips.:(

🧸All in all, very warm n cuddly being w/ Flippy on Christmas. 

Fliqpy

🔪Now this little shit-

🔪Idk where that was going I just wanted to call Fliqpy a little shit.

🔪Anyways he’s not used to Christmas.

🔪Would 100% use the lights to strangle someone-

🔪Though he’s really good to have around if you wanna chop your own tree.

🔪The first Christmas he spends with you I don’t imagine him really getting you anything, and also getting flustered when you give him a gift.

🔪Afterwords he starts putting a bit more effort into this whole Christmas thing.

🔪Either a really shitty gift giver or a really great gift giver. No inbetween 

🔪Will fall asleep during Christmas movies.

🔪Unless maybe it doubles as a horror movie. Like idk Black Christmas or smth(I’ve never watched Black Christmas so don’t quote me on that but I really want to but I don’t want my mum to walk in and be like ‘WTF ARE YOU WATCHING!?’ Anyways back on track)

🔪Flippys not used to the domestic vibe of Christmas

🔪However if you also believe in Krampus he might be a liiittttleee bit more into it(long live Krampus)

🔪I imagine he really likes hot cocoa but won’t admit it.

🔪Also thinks Santa’s a creep

🔪”So, let me get this straight. You celebrate a dude BREAKING INTO YOUR HOUSE??”

🌹”…. He gives us gifts-“

🔪Really good at wrapping things to make them look like something they’re not. Like you think you’re opening a doll but it’s actually a pocket knife :)

[apollos-favorite-child]

ooc post abt some drama

So I’m pretty sure everyone has either interacted with @/demigod-jack-hearth or at least seen some of the posts that were made abt his Circe au. I’ve been trying to keep track of everyone’s thoughts on this (namely @unhinged-waterlilly and @if-chaos-was-a-boy who both have really helpful posts about it) and since I’m capable of producing coherent thoughts every once in a while, I thought I would share my thoughts on all of this.

So I should probably start with the AU, which really was the cause of a lot of this chaos. So first of all, making it in the first place was a very interesting choice. I’m not sure if Jack based it more off the odyssey or the epic musical, but either way it’s just a very weird decision. I understand people like to project on their character which makes sense, but Jack never mentioned being r@ped. (And I hope he never was) but it feels like if he was comfortable enough to make that part of an AU, he would’ve probably mentioned it one of the times he was trying to defend himself.

I understand that HE might’ve thought it was a fine change to make since he was comfortable with it, but I’ve seen a handful of people saying it made them uncomfortable. I’m aware it’s not his job to make sure everyone is happy, but the whole AU was really unnecessary knowing it could’ve made someone uncomfortable.

People even went to Jack saying they were v!ctims and they didn’t like his AU, and he basically told them to fuck off, without ANY condolences or apologies to the people for having to go through that. Those people shared their experiences and he just didn’t care.

And YES Odysseus is a fictional character, but his trauma is still basically being disrespected. I’ve seen a couple of people saying other are being dramatic since they are angry about him being invalidated, but it makes sense to me why they would be angry.

One anon (who was a sa victim of I remember right) came to Jack being rude, and SO many people have been rude to this anon, calling them either rude or dramatic, but honestly I think they were just really angry about what Jack had done (which is perfectly understandable) and they didn’t really think or bother to be polite when they sent that. They made a mistake too, but I don’t think jacks response was any better.

And once he realized that he was wrong (after having to be confronted by multiple people) he NEVER apologized. The words “I’m sorry” were not on a single one of his posts. He basically was just trying and failing to defend himself. This all could’ve been solved much quicker with a simple apology, but he’s more concerned with making sure everyone likes him and that he’s right so he doesn’t have to deal with any guilt.

And now he’s apparently disappeared and has been self harming and just struggling a lot. But you want to know what I find interesting? Jack never mentioned having a boyfriend, and now Fred has taken control of his account, responding to almost everyone and trying to defend Jack. I might be the only one, but I did NOT understand how to use tumblr at first, and it took me a while until I even learned how to reblog people and tag stuff. Even once I did learn how to tag people, I wasn’t tagging 20+ people on every post like Jack does. Another interesting thing is that the blog said something along the lines of “I didn’t mean to blah blah blah” and sounded like it was Jack defending himself, but then the message ended with -Freddy

If I was Fred, I would’ve made ONE post explaining why Jack disappeared, and not mentioning any of the sh or breakdowns. He could’ve made a post without mentioning all of that and disrespecting jacks privacy. Instead, he’s been responding to every person and mostly trying to defend Jack in every one of them. He also said he locked Jack out of his tumblr account, which you LITERALLY CANNOT DO unless he took away Jacks phone, which just seems really controlling, even if he did think it was best for Jack. So yes, this is me saying that I don’t think Fred is real. Especially since Jack is a ROLEPLAYER, and we are completely used to acting like different people.

Going back to the self-harm topic, I think that parts very weird as well. He’s made self harm jokes, and while I know perfectly well people can use humor as a coping mechanism, that’s just another really insensitive thing to do. It just doesn’t really make sense to me how you can make self harm jokes one week and then let your boyfriend tell a bunch of people on the internet you’ve been trying to hurt yourself.

Overall I think this spiraled into a lot more than it should’ve been, and this all wouldn’t have happened if he had just apologized, or just never have made that AU.

jacks tag list- @zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite

@fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son

@bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial

@reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia

@that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass

@kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @i-was-never-sane @clown-energy-skyrocketing @zoe-aura-of-d3ath

@itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena

@sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @thedaughter-of-death @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan

@demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @southerndaughterofeos

@creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes

[fuxuannie]

First time requesting so sorry if this doesn’t make sense, if you’re willing could you write about Yanqing comforting a reader who’s been feeling down because their feeling burnt out? So so sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but thanks anyway for possibly considering it!

-🌝 anon

↳ pairing : yanqing x g-neutral reader

↳ synopsis : request ♡

↳ authors note : CLEARING OUT DRAFTS 🧸‼‼ i i really wananana get back into writing n i dont wanna leave what i started here!!!

YANQING noticed how much more you tended to zone out within the day. Sure, you'd stop paying attention 5 minutes into his ramble about swords - but at the very least you'd make it to the discussion of how they're made. Nowadays, you're forgetting hes talking to you before he could even start.

Not only that, but you seemed to work and work but seemingly not out of the passion you had before, but almost as if you were doing it in hopes to find a purpose. He couldn't explain it properly, but it was like you were no longer working cause it made you happy, more over because was expected and wanted of you.

Sure, it was your job to serve, but you were allowed to ask for breaks and such if it was needed and you DEFINITELY needed one.

So he had approached Jing Yuan and asked for permission to pull you out of work for a few hours. "Oh, Yanqing.. You kind soul, you're more than free to be able to help them." He does his usual precious smile, bows to his superior and hurries off to find you.

He asked around with the locals if they had seen you, his expression of worry worsening by the second as people would answer more no's and no's. And when all hope seemed lost, a certain fluffy tailed woman had known exactly where you were, and told the concerned blonde once she noticed his usual smile curl downwards into a frown.

"Thank you, Miss Tingyun!" Yanqing bows before running off towards one of the trees in the training grounds, it was a private & closed off area for the Cloud Knights with various different training equipment but a giant tree in the center of it all.

His worry faded away when he saw you asleep against the trunk, snoring softly as your hair was a slight mess due to the wind that was blowing.

The young swordsman sits next to you, his head faced your sleeping form as he hesitantly puts a hand on your shoulder and shakes you. Waking you up from your peaceful nap.

"..Mm.." Was the first sign that you were waking up, watching your head shift slightly before settling in his general direction. Your eyes slowly flutter open, and are greeted to the sight of Yanqing smiling at you fondly and gigglig at your rather sleepy state. "Good Morning." You could hear him saying.

He can see how your expression immediately changes, first confusion and then panic. "W-wait.. Did I doze off?! Oh no, oh dear, I'm sorry for troubling you! I'll return to work-" But Yanqing grabs your hand before you could even stand, theres a small silence for a moment, wind blowing through your hair as you stared into his eyes.

"Don't leave."

You want to protest, but Yanqing shakes his head before you can get another word out. "Worry not. The General allowed you to rest for a little while longer." He reassures you with a closed eye smile, the hold on your hand had no sign of letting go or allowing you to leave.

Grinning at your sigh of defeat, the boy moves a little so you may sit down next to him.

There's a few moments of silence, not exactly awkward but.. comforting. The feeling of gentle wind brushing against your skin, sounds of birds or leaves rustling, and the slow clouds passing by in the distance. You finally take a moment to appreciate everything going on around you, and maybe one of those things was the warmth that wrapped around your hand. How Yanqing's fingers intertwine with yours as he admires the very same things that you are, humming a gentle tune to hopefully soothe your stress away.

"You know.. I don't think I'm built for this line of work sometimes."

His head is quick to turn to you, though your gaze doesn't drift away from the sky up above.

"I dunno, sometimes I can take it and other times.."

You lay against the tree trunk, closing your eyes and take a deep breath.

"It feels like I'm drowning in a pool of my problems and getting dragged further down to the bottom."

He's not sure whether to comfort you with words or with actions, so he simply guides your head to lean down comfortably on his shoulder.

In time, if you'll ask for it, he'll tell you the words of comfort that he's sure you'll need to hear.

For now, he'll be quiet and listen to your problems that you've kept bottled up for far too long.