#so they put a mind spell on em

[moondrifterr]

excellent news! i may have found a beast simera form i finally enjoy! rejoice!!!

but keep in mind he is a terrifying magical beast and dangerous creatures the likes of him should be taken seriously

he likes tomatoes and green bananas

[redeemingvillains]

cold comfort - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo has one rule: any girl can share his bed (and there's been plenty) but none can stay the night. when the unexpected happens, and you're begging to be the first, you find out why he had the rule in the first place.

word count: 4k

soundtrack: between the sheets - imogen heap

a/n: wait this is kind of a saga! it just kept flowing and flowing, but i'm obsessed with it! hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

When Mattheo heard that a first year in Charms cast a spell that backfired so badly it rendered Hogwarts unable to regulate the temperature in the castle, he'd nearly spit out his firewhiskey. The mental image of Flitwick, McGonagall and all of his other professors frantically trying to fix it to no avail gave him sick pleasure as he thought about all the times they'd looked down on him because of his last name. Fuck 'em he thought. Serves them right.

He'd enjoyed his twisted happiness for several days until an unexpected early spring snowstorm rolled off the mountains, leaving the castle a veritable chamber of cold. For two days now it had nearly been cold enough for him to see the white puff of his breath inside. As others scrambled for a place in front of the fireplaces, his mood darkened, making him even more sullen than usual as talk of canceling classes and sending everyone home began to circulate; home wasn't really a place he was looking to go back to.

So now he was sat in the Great Hall in a large sweatshirt with his hood drawn up around his face, the standard dress code long since forgotten, one hand wound tightly around his second cup of black tea in an effort to warm himself while the other rubbed his tired face as he listened to the incessant chatter of his friends.

He was quietly zoned out until he caught a glimpse of you walking through the large entryway. Everyone in the castle looked in disarray: mismatched sweaters, hats and gloves in haphazard layers to stay warm, but not you, you looked like a perfect snowbunny. You were wearing tight black leggings, fur-lined boots, a thick sweater and a headband to keep your ears warm that complimented your hair. Anyone looking closely enough would see the imperceptible tug of his lips into what could almost be called a smile as you made your way to the Slytherin table and slid onto the bench next to him.

It wasn't lost on him that his best friend was beautiful. He was well and painfully aware of the fact and had been for as long as he'd known you. But, despite the thoughts that ran rampant through his mind at the sight of you, he was determined to keep you at an arm's length. Simply put, you were too good for him, too pure. You had a smile that radiated a warmth that he could feel even now, you were caring and compassionate, smart and sweet, quick with a hug and a kind word. You were everything that he wasn't. He told himself, constantly, on repeat, that it was better to have you in his life at all than to fuck it up trying for anything more.

He subtly traced your face through the corner of his eye: your long lashes, the curve of your smile, and your warm, rosy cheeks, and just like no one but you could see his smile, no one but him noticed the tiredness in your eyes. He nudged his shoulder into yours.

"Alright?" he mumbled.

You glanced up at him, his groggy morning voice and the way his curls stuck out from his hood making you feel like you'd swallowed a pixie. You felt yourself flush, your exhaustion wearing down the mask you normally kept up around him, determined to never let him know how you really felt.

"Just tired s'all" you smiled kindly, nudging him back, coaxing what could almost be another smile out of him as you met each other's eyes. "I can't sleep for shit. No matter what I do, I can't get warm, even under a pile of blankets, in my fuzziest pajamas and a jumper" you shivered.

"Skin to skin is really the only solution" Pansy chimed in with a smirk as she sank further into Draco's arms and you rolled your eyes at the two of them. She had snuck out of your room the last few nights, leaving you not only cold, but alone too.

"Couldn't agree more" Theo said, smirking, before lifting an eyebrow at you "ready, able and at your service, babe" he said, opening his arms to you as you swatted him away, laughing at his attempt to flirt with you. He smiled widely and laughed back before glancing over your shoulder at Mattheo whose eyes were narrowed in his direction.

"What, mate, it's not like you're any help, what with your strict 'no sleepover policy'" Theo chirped at him, referring to the fact that regardless of how many girls came in and out of Mattheo's bed, (which was a sizable number) not one had ever stayed the night, always kicked out in the end, despite the fact that they hoped to be the one to break his streak.

You turned to see Mattheo shooting daggers at Theo.

"S'my bed" he muttered, "more than happy to have someone in it for awhile, but a lad's got to get his rest, yeah?" he laughed and the guys laughed back.

You faked a bitter smile, returning your attention to your breakfast in front of you. You weren't naive but that didn't mean you had to sit here and listen to this, you nibbled a piece of dry toast, the mental image of Mattheo with other girls making you nauseous.

Mattheo's smile fell from his face as he watched your reaction, and wished for the thousandth time that he could tell you that he made that rule because of you. Because if he couldn't have you, then he wasn't going to waste time getting closer than necessary with anyone else; the nights he spent alone his bed his punishment for who he was, the fact that he'd never be good enough for you.

You stood abruptly and shot him a small smile as you moved to leave. He said your name quietly and reached for your hand, but you were gone before you realized it.

That night you crawled into cold sheets that felt almost damp with a chill. Despite the pile of blankets and your thick pajamas, you couldn't get warm or comfortable, tossing and turning as small shivers ran through your body and Pansy's words echoed in your head. You were desperate for warmth at this point, desperate for a good night's sleep, but there was only one bed you wanted to crawl into, and it was with the only person who refused to share it.

Surely he would break his rule for you, for his best friend? you thought; things were different between you two. But were you willing to try, to embarrass yourself if he said no? You rolled around for another hour before climbing out of bed.

Mattheo was in a fitful sleep, which was not unusual for him; his nights were frequented by nightmares, leaving him constantly groggy and grumpy, but when he heard your voice, he was sure he was dreaming, a good dream, a great dream at that.

"Mattheo" you were whispering.

He turned to see you standing at the other side of his bed and was incredibly confused, until you moved to get in... and then he panicked. He panicked because he had thoughtfully planned every way to avoid this exact situation from the moment he met you, knowing that at this proximity he wouldn't be able to control himself. And he was right. You were close, too close. He could smell your shampoo, like warm vanilla, and his hands moved on autopilot towards you, his fingers twitching to bring you closer to him before he stopped himself, inches short.

"Whatareyoudoing?!" he whisper-mumbled in frustration, the words coming out angrier than he'd intended at the range of emotions he was feeling.

You froze, your heart shattering. He was angry. He didn't want you here, he didn't want anyone here. He was going to kick you out and you'd be mortified, your friendship would never be the same, you'd taken things too far. You felt a scratch in your throat as tears threatened to spring forward.

Even in the thick darkness, Mattheo could see that he'd upset you, able to read your expressions better than his own. He could see the wobble of your bottom lip as your wide eyes looked at him and he hated himself and the situation all the more for it.

"Please Matty, m'just so cold, I can't sleep" you whispered, using the nickname that was strictly forbidden for anyone but you that made him melt.

He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed deeply, trying in his sleepy state to figure out a solution as he felt his strength waning; the figment of his every daydream was literally begging to be in his bed and he was certain he couldn't trust himself, certain that this only ended one way.

You took in his rigid form and his frustration and began to backpedal, moving to leave.

"M'sorry, it's okay, I'll go, maybe Theo—"

And you didn't even get a chance to finish your thought before you felt his large, warm hands wrap around your middle and tug you across the bed and into his chest, quickly but gently.

"C'mere" he mumbled as he settled you against him, chest to chest, your head tucked under his.

Your arms wound around him naturally, your legs intertwining, the two of you fitting together effortlessly, perfectly, like puzzle pieces. You let out a small giggle as you nuzzled into him, making yourself comfortable.

He could feel your warm breath as you let out a contented sigh, the innocent sound somehow sinful to his ears as he willed his mind to stop wandering in every direction it wanted to as he felt every dip and curve of your body against his own despite the layers of clothing between you. He kept his hands at your back, unmoving, for a moment unsure if he was even doing this right, unable to remember the last time he'd cuddled with anyone.

"Thank you" you whispered, your voice already sounding relaxed and sleepy to him as your fingers traced patterns on his back, a lavish feeling that released every ounce of tension he had been holding.

You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as his arms hugged you to him firmly and you felt a sensation like melted honey spreading through every inch of you, as he rubbed your back, warming you from your heart to the tips of your toes for the first time in days as you fell into a hazy sleep.

The first thought Mattheo had was that he felt heavy, his limbs felt weighted and his mind felt calm. Rested he realized after a moment. His brain was slowly turning back on, piecing together the dream he'd had, it was a dream, right? You, in his bed, in his arms, pressed against him, nuzzling into him, contented and happy. It felt so real, real enough that he could still smell you, the intoxicating scent of your shampoo, could still feel you in his arms, could still ghost his fingers down your back. You hummed in response and his eyes fluttered open only to realize it was definitely not a dream.

You were here, with him, in his bed, had been all night, your body still wound perfectly in his, neither of you having let go of one another or moved an inch; if anything, it was like you melded together even further. Fuck this is nice he thought as he looked down at you curled into his chest. This was everything, everything he'd hoped it would be. He wanted to stay like this for as long as physically possible, the looming fear of it having to come to an end already upon him.

Suddenly, a pillow came flying onto the bed, askewing the thick curtains that draped around his four-poster.

"Oi wake up, will you, Riddle? Shit, it's almost noon and we've got practice in an hour" came a shout as a cacophony of voices followed behind it into the room.

You stirred in Mattheo's arms just as a hand reached through his curtains to pull them aside.

"Oh. My. Fucking. Days" Blaise drawled, annunciating every word as the others gathered around him.

"I knew it, I fucking knew it"

"Let's gooooooo!!"

"Mattttyyyy!!!" each of them shouted as the jumped up and down in excitement at the sight of you in his bed.

"Fuck off" he said, grasping the pillow they'd thrown at him and hucking it back at them, causing them to disperse as they fell apart with laughter and more cheers.

He felt you shift next to him and looked back to see that you had pulled the covers over your head, just the tips of your fingers and the top of your head visible. He yanked his curtain closed before leaning back towards you and gently grasping the blanket near your hands to pull it back.

While not the wakeup you had hoped for nor expected, Mattheo pulling back the blankets with a soft sleep-ridden smile on his face and his rumpled curls to see you was a mental image that you were sure you would think about every day for the rest of your life. You were swimming in a sea of him, engulfed in his smell, like pine and amber, and you were delightfully warm; he was going to have to pry you out of here.

"Hi" he said quietly in his morning voice.

"Hi" you whispered back.

You looked perfect. He may have thought about waking up to you, with significantly less clothing on and significantly fewer onlookers, but he'd never considered how beautiful you would look, your eyes not all the way open yet, your hair spread like a blanket of its own and fuck if he didn't want to kiss you. His eyes drifted lazily to your lips and back again and he swore he saw a flash of something in your expression in response, curiosity, or perhaps confusion.

"I should—" he started, shaking his head clear.

"—Yeah, of course! Sorry, I didn't realize the time—"

"No problem, take your time—" he said as he rolled out of bed to more cheers and shouts as he shepherded his friends out the door to give you some privacy.

You pulled the sheets back over your heard, burying yourself further into his blankets, reveling in the warmth his body had left before squealing with excitement at the way your day had started.

You were afraid that things would be awkward, but surprisingly they weren't, you were in your easy, unbothered rhythm together. Besides the giggles and teasing from your friends, nothing had changed... including the temperature. As the day went on the warmth you had woken up in faded and you felt progressively more cold settling into your bones, already dreading the cold night ahead of you.

Spending the night with Mattheo was a nice reprieve, but not something you intended to make a habit of, certain you didn't want to live through more teasing nor get your hopes up trying to read into how intimate it had felt.

You were leaving dinner, arms wound around yourself at the chill in the air when you heard a voice calling for you. You turned to see Mattheo jogging after you.

"Hey!" he called.

"Hey" you smiled back, glancing up at him as he fell into step with you.

He smiled readily back at you; he'd seemed peppier today, letting the ceaseless taunting roll of his back with a shrug of his shoulders, the unwillingness to turn everything into an argument or fistfight very uncharacteristic of him.

"Yeah, so—" he started to say, as he looked around for a moment and carded his hand through his hair. He took in how cold you looked and all he could think was how badly he wanted to fix it. "—About last night or whatever...I know it's still fucking frigid, if you wanted to come by or sleep with, er, stay with — in my — yeah, you could do it again if you wanted?"

You couldn't hide the smile the spread widely across your face, nor the way your eyes sparkled mischievously as you stopped walking to face him.

"Mattheo Riddle, are you asking me to sleep with you?" you said flirtatiously, leaning towards him.

He stopped breathing. Your proximity and the words coming out of your mouth snatched every last breath and every last thought he'd had.

"Don't fuck around with me" he said through smirked lips, his voice low and measured, holding a hint of playfulness, but also a warning.

You laughed softly back but didn't back down.

"I'll see you tonight" you said as you continued your path back to the common room, leaving him gazing after you.

Your new outfit that night wasn't lost on him. You were wearing a form-fitting pair of soft pants and a matching top that hung slightly off your shoulder, revealing the lace of a bralette. You crawled into bed beside him, smiling contentedly and curling into his arms like you were married, like this was the most normal, easy, simple thing in the world, and yet it still took him a minute to really comprehend the situation, to relax.

He barely had a minute to catch his breath before Blaise shouted across the room, "Goodnight Theo!"

"Night, Blaise!" Theo shouted back.

"Night, Enz!" Blaise said again.

"G'night!" Enzo replied.

Mattheo rubbed a hand over his face at the antic.

"I swear they don't do this every—" he started.

"—Night, Draco!" Blaise shouted.

"And Pans!" Theo chimed in.

"Full fuckin' house in here" Enzo said.

"Goodnight!" she giggled back.

"Goodnight Mattheo..." Blaise said slowly, drawling out his name.

Mattheo didn't reply.

"GOODNIGHT YN" they each shouted.

You laughed, "Goodnight!" you said back and they cheered as Mattheo turned and buried his head into your shoulder in embarrassment, letting his body weight fall on you in exasperation.

You laughed at his reaction, instinctively bringing a hand to tangle in his curls and hold him to you before you could stop yourself. It was decidedly more intimate than anything that had happened between you before, but it had just felt right, something about pulling him into you, comforting him. You paused after a moment, catching yourself... running your hands through his hair should not make you feel this way; suddenly, you were very very warm.

As if he could sense your reaction, he lifted his head just slightly to meet your eyes, his face inches from yours.

He had to feel your heart hammering in your chest at this proximity, right? As he searched your face, it felt like a veil had come down between the two of you after a night spent together on top of years spent dancing around one another like you didn't know exactly what this could be. On cue, the room around you fell deeply silent as the others settled into sleep.

Your hand slowly dropped to trace his cheek.

"YN" he said in a low voice, cautious, guarded, his tone roughly translating to "Don't".

"What?" you whispered.

"I can't" he said.

"Can't what, Matty?"

The nickname made his heart beat double-time, an impossible feat based on the way it was already drumming loudly in his ears.

"You know what" he said sternly.

"Why?" you asked, innocently, the tips of your fingers moving to trace his jaw, nearing his lips before his hand grasped yours firmly, stopping you, making you jump slightly.

His body was rigid and taught, his expression was serious, maybe even threatening to anyone but you, but all you could see was the look in his eyes that were burning with something else, something much more passionate than anger.

His words were strained, like it was a physical effort to form them.

"I. Can't. Alright? Just let it go" he said as his eyes continued to beg otherwise.

Your next words were so soft, he almost didn't hear them, might have missed them if his entire being wasn't fine tuned to hear the exact phrase.

"Kiss me" you said, somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He caught your eye and his breath caught in his throat at the way you were looking at him: your eyes wide, soft and focused on him, your chest visibly rising and falling underneath him, your body pressing against him as you wiggled your hand out of his grasp to trace his cheek. Surely he couldn't have heard you right?

"I'm not—I can't— that's not a good idea. I can't just kiss you" he said, stumbling over his words uncharacteristically.

"Why?" you asked quietly, sadly.

"No—not—fuck—" he started and stopped, trying not to upset you again.

He paused, trying to collect himself.

"Why do you think no other girl has slept in this bed?" he said seriously.

You pulled your hand back at the mention of other girls at a moment like this, but he responded by reaching to cup your cheek, to force you to look at him.

You were shaking your head.

"Because if I couldn't have you, then I didn't want anyone else. You're fucking it for me, always have been, but girls like you don't end up with guys like me and it's best I don't waste your fucking time and ruin our friendship in the process, alright?" he said resolutely, with finality.

"Matty—" you started

"—Please stop calling me that, please" he said, slamming his eyes closed, "I'm trying to maintain a semblance of self control here."

"Stop holding back!" you whisper-yelled, which caught his attention, causing his eyes to flutter open. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I want you. I've always wanted you, ask any of our thickheaded friends, they've all known for a long time."

He blinked slowly like each individual word had to register in his head. You could see him swallow, could see the sentence process in his brain as the pad of his thumb traced your cheek and you leaned into him, pressing further against him.

"Kiss me, Matty" you said.

And the last thread of his self control snapped. He leaned in, hovering close enough that you could feel the faintest touch of his lips as they ghosted against yours, teasing you.

"If I kiss you, that's it then, you're mine" he said, like it was a threat, an ultimatum, and not the best thing that's ever happened to you.

A smile spread across your lips and you nodded against his.

"All yours" you whispered back and he caught the last of your words with his mouth, his lips taking yours as both of his hands came to grasp your face firmly but gently, pulling you into him.

You could barely suppress the hum of pleasure that left you at the sensation, the relief of the feeling of his lips pillowed against yours, the tenderness and softness so opposite of everything that he was, the duality of it all had your body tingling. One of your hands grasped at his sweatshirt while the other wound around his neck, attempting to pull him impossibly closer to you as he moaned into your mouth. His tongue tangled with yours and you swore there wasn't anything in the world but this moment, this feeling with him as you tasted the lingering flavor of cigarettes and peppermint that you would come to associate with him.

It was all grabbing, desperate hands and crashed lips at first, trying in moments to catch up on years of wanting, until it was tantalizingly slow, languid, purely achingly perfect and intimate. You were certain you would kiss him like this every single day, given the chance.

It could have been minutes or hours that you were lost in each other before he pulled back, and the whine that left your lips at the loss of contact nearly had him throwing you over his shoulder and marching you to the first broom closet he could find.

"I've spent just about every day for the last 5 years thinking about this, and I cannot believe I'm about to fuckin' say this, but I'm not gonna rush it. At the very least, I'm not gonna hook up with you in a room full of people" he said, before tilting his head, "Well, at least not the first time... after that, no promises."

You laughed quietly and swatted at his shoulder.

"C'mere" he said, pulling you into him.

You curled into his arms, head nuzzling into his neck, your head resting on his chest as he held you tightly, brushing soft kisses to your temple as you fell asleep.

E P I L O G U E

You had been so caught up in the events of the evening, you hadn't really stopped to consider what happens next, namely, how would you tell your friends? Just make an announcement at breakfast? Put on enough PDA that they drew their own conclusion? Take off the scarf you were wearing that was covering the innumerable hickies on your neck? Your mind was in a heady fog about it all as the group of you wandered towards the Great Hall.

You were glued to Mattheo's side, but that wasn't really unusual; his fingers brushed against your own as he shot you a look out of the corner of his eye, a mischievous smile on his face.

"YN!" a voice shouted behind you.

You turned to see Cedric Diggory jogging towards you and you slowed your pace, as did everyone around you. Boys had to be either brave, stupid or naive to approach you when you were with your guy friends, and you weren't sure which category to put Cedric in as his eyes met their unwelcome stares but addressed you anyway.

"Sorry— yeah, I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to—" he started.

Oh no you thought.

"—Cedric, really, that's so kind—" you interrupted, trying to prevent a scene from breaking out as you felt Mattheo tense beside you.

"—You didn't even hear what I was going to say?" he said with a laugh, somewhere between offended, annoyed and amused.

"Well, think that makes the message pretty clear then, mate" Mattheo said, the anger palpable in his tone.

"Excuse me?" Cedric replied. "I was talking to—"

Oh no you thought again.

And you weren't quick enough to intervene before Mattheo had Cedric pinned against the stone wall of the hallway, his forearm at Cedric's chest, nearly lifting him off the ground as his feet dangled for purchase.

"I don't fucking care who you were talking to. From now on, you don't talk to her at all, alright?"

"What are you, her bodyguard?" Cedric sputtered as he gasped for breath.

"No" ... a pause... "I'm her boyfriend" Mattheo growled.

You tried and failed to hide the huge smile on your face behind your manicured fingers as your friends shouted behind you.

Well, that's one way to do it you thought. ♡

[lullxby]

THEODORE NOTT LISTENING TO RAVENCLAW READER WARM UP TO HIM AND LETTING HER RANT ABOUT HER BOOK TO HIM PLEASE IM BEGGING🙏🙏

—🏍️ (if thats taken? idk lmao)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ WHIPPED (t.n.)

summary : in which a boy is willing to do anything to convince a smart girl to go out with him.

w.c. : .8k

a/n : i loved writing this request and no 🏍️ isnt taken!! enjoy! 🤍

should i do a part 2 of the actual date??

wattpad : poeticmystery

warning(s) : none!

| harry potter masterlist | navigation |

theodore nott couldn’t deny how ultimately whipped he was for you. he was in love with everything about you. the way you’d ramble about your books, the certain face you’d make to him after you see somebody doing something less than smart.

he even respected how log. it had taken for you to let him in. he had quite a reputation with women, and he knew it’d make it more difficult to convince you to be in a real relationship with him.

so, he waited. he was patient, he was kind, and he defended you.

he seemed like the perfect guy on paper, but whenever you got close to letting him in, letting him finally take you out, you’d hear another story about a girl he hooked up with then left right after.

the thought disgusted you, and you didn’t want to just turn out to be another one of those girls with a horror story of hoe you were treated by the slytherin boy. you were smarter than that.

that was another thing he liked about you. how smart you were. he loved how you could explain extensive theories and spells to him in a simple enough way to make it easy to understand. it was like a breath of fresh air.

lately, he had been in an even better mood, something his friends even noticed about him. you were starting to finally let him in. you were letting him walk you to class, letting him take you to his favorite hidden spots in the castle.

most importantly, though, you were starting to talk to him. not just some insignificant conversation about homework, or the weather. real conversations.

you were telling him about books you liked, about something funny one of your friends had told you. you were rambling on and on to him, and he loved hearing it.

he loved seeing the way your eyes lit up when you were speaking about someone you were close with, or a new book.

the expression he held when you rambled to him like this could only be explained as pure love. he had waited months to even get you to open up to him, and it was finally happening.

he always made sure you knew he was listening, whether that was by asking you questions as you went, keeping his eyes trained on you, or even buying you the second book in a series you had mentioned liking.

even despite the way you’d protest your rants, saying you didn’t want to annoy him, or something of the sort, he loved hearing tour voice. he’d listen to anything if it was coming from you.

he noticed everything about you.

none of his friends, or even himself, could think off another time where he was this head over heels for someone. it was like his former self went out the window as soon as you walked in. he couldn’t even imagine himself with a girl that wasn’t you, and he didn’t want to anyways.

you were all he need- all he wanted.

“theodore, are these flowers from you?” you called out when he stepped into your dorm.

you gestured to a beautiful array of red lillies, the scent they put off filling the room with a pleasant, light aroma.

“yeah. saw ‘em and thought of you,” he admitted casually, as though he hadn’t specifically looked for flowers of that kind, knowing you paid attention to the meanings of flowers and whatnot.

aside from that, he just thought they were pretty. naturally, you had popped into his mind.

you flashed him a genuine smile, a sight that looked straight out of his dreams.

“thank you,” you grinned, the sentiment behind the flowers being one of the sweetest things you could think of.

“finally gonna let me take you out?” he asked, a small smirk on his face.

despite his confident demeanor, he was one step away from straight up begging. he had waited months, all he wanted was for you to say yes.

you thought over it. you had heard girls in the hallway talking about how he hadn’t given them the time of day recently… and he had been so sweet lately. he had been trying repeatedly, not being deterred at all by your rejections. plus, what was the harm in just one date? one date didn’t mean anything was set in stone.

it was just… one date.

“yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, noticing the way his smirk turned into a large grin.

he felt like a child with how smiley he got around you, especially now that you had given him a chance to take you on a real date.

theodore nott taglist: lmk if you’d like to be added!

dividers made by h-aewo!

[raitonsfw]

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: As you watched Tamaki's tentacles form against the spines of his fingers, you couldn't help the heat that rushed between your legs... you needed him now; it didn't matter that you two were still on a mission.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, boyfriend!tamaki, tentacle play, use of tamaki's quirk (takoyaki), tentacle 'fingering', breast play, suctions, orgasm (reader), tamaki's a skittish lover, he's horny for you but makes sure he takes care of you.

a/n: so you might've awakened a new kink in me cuz i was elated to write this (idk if its my kink in writing quirks just taking over or if i now like tentacles, we'll never know but this was hot to write) wc: 600ish. v-day m.list | m.list

thirst count: 1

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

“This okay, Y/N?” A blush had spread across Tamaki’s face, the lavender visor he wore nearly fogging up from the heat from his cheeks as he looked away from you.

Of course Tamaki was timid… and flushed with lust. The both of you were in an abandoned alleyway, away from the hero scene doing God knows what. As one of his tentacles wrapped around your waist, you shivered under the wet slick of them. “Yeah, Ama– we should hurry.” 

You felt your hero uniform nudge to the side and a lengthy coil fell between your legs, creeping up the side of your leg towards your throbbing cunt. His eyes zeroed in on yours for a second as he mouth pressed into a thin line, trying his best not to freak out. You glanced down at his body, to his nimble hand which had sprouted five reddish tentacles from his earlier takoyaki snack. When you watched them transform, you knew you had to seduce him– hoping to get your boyfriend alone.

You said with innocence, “Betcha those tentacles don’t get used often, mind if I see ‘em?”

And here you were, after running your fingers against the suction cups and some sultry words slipping from your mouth– watching Tamaki tremble underneath said fingers as they rubbed against the seam of his tunic, right underneath his plum-colored bags. The white bulge was extremely prominent and you smirked. 

Tamaki had you under a spell, all five of his tentacles clinging onto you– one around your waist, one laying still around your neck, another suctioned to the fabric that covered your chest, and two teasing at your clit. As the two tentacles rubbed against your clit now, pushing beside each other, a whimper fell from your lips. “C’mon, Ama, put one of ‘em in.” 

“O-Okay…” You felt him shudder against you, a heavy sigh falling from his lips as you palmed him and one of his tentacles pressed into your cunt. You moaned loudly, his normal free hand flying to your mouth to try to shush you. “Quiet down please, Fatgum could come looking for us.” 

“Mm, or worse…” As you said that, his tentacle thrusted into you further and you squeezed your eyes shut at the rousing feeling. His suctions pressed against your walls, fucking in and out and you couldn’t help the incoming whines that came from you. “T-Tamaki…”

“Yeah, you doing okay?” He eased out, his other tentacle that housed it way down there playing with your clit. Its tip suctioned into the swell of it, smoothing circles into it as a wet pop–! sounded from your cunt. You were nearing your orgasm way faster than you ever anticipated, his obedience was on par– absolutely exceptional.

“Yeah, make me cum– so close…” 

You were too preoccupied by the heavenly motions against your clit– inside your cunt, you didn’t feel that the one across your chest had slithered its way into your bodysuit. Oh, Tamaki was bold today… tweaking your nipple hard in the latex and humming softly to himself as you clenched around the tentacle inside you. It kissed at your nipple, toying with it as you tried your best to suppress your moans against his palm. 

As you fell apart Tamaki pressed a soft kiss against your cheek, coaxing you through your release with his normal hand soothing over your waist. He pulled his tentacle out, inspecting it slightly and you almost wanted to watch him suck your juices off of it– but he sadly didn’t. 

“I’m buying you takoyaki every week– no, everyday.” You breathed out, both of your hands sliding underneath his tunic and against the tent of his bodysuit. Tamaki squeaked out a tiny noise, pressing closer to you with a skittish expression as he looked down the alleyway. “That’s a promise.”

[fishermanshook]

SHELLS BY THE SEASHORE.

( Shelly Fossilian ) + gn!toon!reader

✶˖*°🐚 ࿐ pfp/ icon by: jaywuzheree on tt , dw’s dating h/c’s , not pre-read , possible ooc-ness , small size intended , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

To love someone means to embrace them exactly how they are, flaws and all. You’ve had no problem with this, and neither has your loving girlfriend.

꒰wc꒱ n/a

☆ SHELLY FOSSILIAN has always been one to put others before herself. Whether that be making sure everyone’s at full health or giving up her tapes to stop Dandy from twisting make Dandy happy, the shell’s taking care of the wellbeing of her friends first —so obviously that doesn’t stop when it comes to you. Hell, her selflessness only grows drastically when she’s by your side.

☆ It’s not the hardest to tell she’s got the hots for you, especially when you’re always the first person getting boosted when on a machine. She tries not to make it so obvious, even when she’s not in your line of sight, but it’s legitimately SECONDS after you touch the damn thing. The purple aura surrounding you and Shelly’s eager little giggle is all you hear before she disappears. [ it’s the cutest thing ever I swear. ]

☆ SHELLY FOSSILIAN who isn’t one to shy away from making it known that you’re her one and only. From matching dinosaur bracelets that Cosmo and Sprout helped her to make to the affectionate nicknames you both have for each other, it's plain to see that the two of you are more then engaged with each other.

⤷ There was a time where Shelly hadn’t been careful enough, and had the bracelet break in front of her eyes the moment the elevator door closed, leaving the beads and charms scattered across the hardwood tiles of floor twenty four. She was devastated, and Tisha had to help her calm down, tell her that there’s no possible way you’d break up with her just because the friendship bracelet had shattered.

And of course you weren’t mad, you’d never be, especially at an unfortunate accident like that. You instead purposed the idea of making new, much more adorable matching bracelets for the two of you. Something that better reflected your new found relationship with each other.

“You sure y-you’re fine with it?” Shelly muttered out, still recovering from the past run.

“I’d be more than happy to re-create them, and they can be new this time! We’ll spice ‘em up so that they match again.” You reply back, huffing when Shelly comes to hug you tightly. You flash a small smile to Tisha standing not too far away, one that says a small “thank you” for her help earlier. The tissue box can only snicker lightly to herself before carrying on wards to her room.

☆ SHELLY FOSSILIAN who is just a sucker for any form of physical contact with you. Surprise hugs from the back are her go to for when you’re not looking, and cuddling till the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms? Must be Toon Heaven for this girl.

☆ SHELLY FOSSILIAN who just can’t help but hold onto every piece of love you’ve given her. The shells sentimental to a fault, and she can’t find it in herself to get rid of every little treasure you’ve given her, even before the two of you started dating. It might be an old hoodie you once left at her place and never went back to retrieve, or a pretty tube of mascara left stranded on the vanity in her room. Whatever it may be, she holds onto it like it’s the last piece of you she’ll ever get.

☆ SHELLY FOSSILIAN just can’t help but ramble and ramble and info dumb on your 24/7, 365. To the average toon, this would’ve drove them crazy out of their MIND annoyed, but you stay silent as she chirps away about the newest facts on Theropods and such. It’s cute, and seeing Shelly being so passionate about the one thing she adores with all of her heart [ besides you ] makes you adore her even more.

⤷ On a side note, you’re constantly heading to Gardenviews ginormous library, containing information on a wide variety of topics you hadn’t even know about. There’s no need for Brightney to guide you over to the dinosaur section —that you’ve been able to locate on your own for quite a while now— and it’s always where you find Shelly, cooped up on her favorite teal beanbag, nose deep in Dinosaur facts. It’s not until you find yourself on a similar pink beanbag does she take note of your presence, scooting herself closer to you so you’ll be able to read together. Truly though? You’re just here to be in her presence, and that’s all you need.

—

note: hi and HELLO DANDY’S WORLD FANDOM !! I have come to write for this new and blossoming fandom here on tumblr, and to give you all a warm welcoming gift, I bestow to you a Shelly x reader fic :3 There will be more to come soon, but it’s nice to be here 😽

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

[sexilene]

can i please request reader going off to collage and not wanting to go and leave rafe, and then he convinces her that its okay not to go and stay with him? if it's a little confusion im sorry!

ive got ya!! xoxo!!! (sorry about any spelling mistakes, im like so beyond sleepy rn idk whyyy!!!!)

"hey baby? where are the suitcases, packed already?” your boyfriend shouts from the hall, wondering where all your stuff that was once out ready to get packed, is gone from where he last saw it.

“uh- almost,” you call back, watching him walk into your room carefully trying not to spill your sleepy time tea in his hand, staring down at the cup until he places it on your nightstand. "did you put em away?-" he begins, before you cut him off,

“ray?”

“yeah?”

“i need to talk to you about something…it’s nothing bad i promise…” your eyes wide and full of an emotion he can't quite place. he stares down at you sitting on the bed, crossing his arms waiting to hear what you've got to say. “okay, what’s up?”

“weeeell, i'm really proud of myself about getting in but i’m still a little nervous about going away…leaving you…” you ramble, avoiding eye contact with rafe. “got separation anxiety?” he laughs, bending down to be at eye level with you.

“don’t joke right now rafe, m’serious!” you whine, going to hide your face in your hands when rafe grabs your wrists ever so gently to direct your attention back on him. “sorry, sorry baby…continue." your boyfriend whispers, softly rubbing the skin on your wrist back and forth with his thumb.

you take a deep breath to keep the tears at bay “i’ve just been thinking about it a lot and i don’t wanna be half away across the country! and of course i know how important college is-”

rafe interrupts you by shrugging and muttering out an “eh,” as if to dismiss the importance of college,

“but…”

“but what, baby?” his eyes innocently looking up at you,

“what if i didn’t go? like i want to, but i don’t and it's all so stressful and i feel like i’m gonna disappoint everyone if i don’t go…” a tear then streaming down your face faster than you can wipe it away to keep him from seeing you cry over this.

your sweet boyfriend's heart twists with every tear that follows, he lets go of your wrists to hold your hands in his much bigger, warmer ones and shushes your fears, “hey- hey okay…just relax a minute kid, if you don’t want to you don’t have to. i say it all the time, can’t fucking wait to put a big ass diamond on this finger. and you won’t gotta worry about anything, cause i promise i’ll take care of you.” he tells you, a smirk on his face, trying his best to reassure you.

“i know but i don’t want to look stupid by being the girl who got into an amazing school but then chose to marry her first boyfriend and stay here!” you realize it's not the nicest thing to say out loud but it is- or would be the truth.

“what’s stupid bout being my little housewife?” rafe furrows his eyebrows, bringing his lips down to kiss every single one of your fingers. “aight listen, i’m so proud of you for getting in and doing the preparation for it but if you feel like your mind has changed that's not a bad thing. im fuckin’ relieved you wanna stay, and if you wanna still go to school there’s always UNC… you’d be closer.” your boyfriend was always very good at reasoning, especially with you. he could calm you in any situation with a couple of wise words and kisses.

“yeah…” you sigh, and wipe your nose with the back of your hand, letting go of his. and sure it's relieving to know that you could always choose to make that decision later, yet the thought in the back of your mind still present, telling you not to end up as another figure eight stepford wife.

and as quickly as the thought crept back into your mind, rafe was able to make it disappear “look, i love you babydoll and im gonna support you as you support me yeah? whatever you want, i'll get it for you you know that... you belong here, with me.” he stands back up again, hands reaching down to wipe the remaining tear droplets on your cheeks gently, to show you he cares ever so much about you and how much he wants to be soft with you- as if you could break like a china doll. “kay, so no tears. did your makeup so pretty today baby...”

your wet lashes sticking together, doe eyes staring up at him with love and admiration. “you’re my best friend ray. i love you, so much my heart hurts.”

“and you're mine, and i love you more than anything ever- and you can sleep on it you know? don't have to make up your mind right here." he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

ᥫ᭡.

[bruisedboys]

❛you got me flowers?❜ + ❛aw, did you miss me?❜ with tasm!peter maybe?

thank you for the request blair!!!!! xx

tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

Peter’s never really been very nimble. Even after becoming SpiderMan, he’s still a little bit of a clutz. He’s lanky and much taller than he thinks he is, so he’s always under-compensating for his size and walking into things.

He makes it through your bedroom window without incident, but then he trips over a book on the floor and can’t catch himself because his hands are full. He goes thudding into the carpet. There’s a pause, and then he hears the shower shut off.

“Hello?” Your voice echoes from the bathroom, much too frightened for Peter’s liking. Whoops.

“It’s me!” He calls out, scrambling to his feet and ditching his effort to surprise you. “It’s Peter, honey, I’m sorry.”

Another pause. Then, “Oh, okay. Just give me a minute!”

Peter’s happy to wait, though he’d go barging into the bathroom if it was up to him. He sits on the end of your bed and brings the bouquet of flowers he’s holding to his lap. It’s a little wilted from his fall, a few petals on the outermost layer crushed. He doesn’t have time to fix them before he hears the bathroom door open and your footsteps down the hall.

“Are you trying to rob me?” You’re saying, amusement clear in your soft voice. “You aren’t very stealthy, Peter.”

You appear in the doorway with a huge smile, a towel wrapped around your otherwise bare body and your skin all dewy and fresh. Peter feels instantly like you’ve put him under a spell.

“I wasn’t trying to rob you,” he argues. His head is swimming. Worse when you cross the room to stand in front of his knees with a sugar sweet smile. He looks up at you, starstruck. “I was trying to surprise you. There’s a difference.”

You raise your eyebrows. Peter’s eyes catch on your bare collarbones. They skip over the dip of your throat, your sternum, the sparkling diamonds of water that cling to your skin.

“Is there?” You ask, amused.

“Uh. Yeah,” Peter says dizzily. He’s completely forgotten what he was just talking about two seconds ago. You smell exquisite. Your skin is smooth and shiny with moisturiser. He might die and you’ll be the culprit. He blinks once, twice, thrice, but his head doesn’t show any signs of clearing.

You giggle at his inadequacy, a sweet, airy sound that has Peter’s heart doing somersaults.

“Aw, Pete,” you say, faking sympathy. You take his face in a soft hand, fingers pushing to the space beneath his ear. “Did you miss me?”

Peter blinks hard. Your fingers set his skin on fire. “What makes you think that?” He asks, aiming for accusatory but landing on clumsy and starstruck.

You burst into laughter. Peter knows very well that you’re laughing at him. He finds he doesn’t care, not when you lean over him and press a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re cute,” you tell him fondly.

Peter blushes all the way up to his ears. Thankfully, you’ve become distracted by the bouquet of flowers in his hands and you don’t notice his very intense blush. He wouldn’t mind if you did, actually. You might call him cute again.

“Oh!” You gasp softly, and lift your eyes to Peter’s. “You got me flowers?”

Peter nods. “Yeah,” he says. Finally, he’s managed to say something without embarrassing himself. “Do you like ‘em?”

You nod vehemently. “They’re lovely, Peter. Let me get dressed, okay? And then we can put them in some water together.”

You touch his cheek and then move away, leaving him in a dizzying cloud of sweetness. He can still smell your moisturiser, still feel the heat of your hand where you’d touched his face.

“Cool,” Peter says, his voice two notches too high. Not his smoothest moment.

[egophiliac]

I was wanting to try doing an art piece in the style of the signature spell poster art pieces you create. But I’m not really the best at coming up with a composition for such a thing.

Do you have a process for how you come up with the compositions for them?

oh, awesome! it is an INCREDIBLY enjoyable style to work in; I hope you have fun with it! :D

I'm not great at putting my thought/art process into words, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'll try! my first step is always to do a LOT of thumbnails to figure out both the idea and how I want to show it; not trying to do a real sketch or anything, just little doodles to figure out what exactly I'm trying to portray. (I also call these "garbage passes" because they're not meant to be any good, they're just there to throw things out. aha. ha. ...anyway.) I think it's important during that first stage to really focus on the idea and the layout and not to get too bogged down in the actual drawing yet!

I tend to save my final thumbnails, so I'll use 'em as examples (I posted the ones up through episode 5 here if you're interested!) (and, uhhh, spoilers through episode 5 also in this post, hopefully that won't be an issue!)

the main thing I try to think about in composition is balance -- not necessarily in terms of symmetry, but in where each element is placed and how much space it's taking up. remember, empty space is still space! it's also really important to think about the parts that don't have anything in them, as much as the parts that do!

personally, I like to divide things up roughly by both halves and by thirds -- there's a lot more in-depth info out there on why the "rule of thirds" in particular works well visually, but in short, our brains tend to focus on things that are placed closer to imaginary division lines, instead of in the exact center of an image. so even when I'm doing something that is very centered and symmetrical, I try to keep that in mind and generally aim around those for landmarks like faces/eyes (or...where they would be, anyway) and other focal points.

it's not a formula of "the character's face should be in this division of this grid" or anything, more like "our minds like to focus on these areas, let's think about how to use that", if that makes sense! and of course rules are made to be broken, art is lawless anarchy, and so on. but it can be a good starting place for deciding where you want to put things!

(blue - thirds, red - half)

and against the finished versions, because they do usually end up changing a lot (including the empty space of the border):

(...these actually lined up a lot better than I thought they would. :') it makes me look like I do things way more intentionally than I do.)

other stuff I just try to keep in mind is that our eyes like following arcs and paths, which can be a good way to guide the eye:

and frame and control the focus:

honestly, composition is one of those things I feel like I struggle with a lot, so I'm not sure how much of this is helpful or actually makes sense outside of my head. but hopefully it helps a little! it's all just stuff to think about while drawing and not anything hard-and-fast, so don't, like, stress out about making sure things are lining up exactly on the thirds or anything. again, it's more "our brains think these are the dopest parts of the rectangle" than anything else! take advantage of the cool parts of the rectangle!

NOW GO HAVE FUN DRAWING seriously though, it is always super cool that other people like this idea and style enough to want to do it themselves and for other/their own characters! thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

[fruitstopia]

┊❛ mama'gatha 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 ❜┊hcsᵎᵎ

A/N ; ( x baby!regressor reader / no pronouns mentioned - ) first headcannons YIPPIEEEEE ! also im so glad aggie is getting all the attention she deserves!

━━ routines are always her jam, for you atleast- she doesn't want you to miss lunch or skip baths. from the moment you wake up 'till you fall asleep peacefully at night everything is structered by her to the best way possible, she just wants the best for uuu :(

━━ as your mama she can read you like a book ! so whenever you feel fussy or anxious she uses a completely different tone-! a softer one that successfully lulls you to sleep everytime (gentle mama aggie come save me pls)

━━ as her sweet itty bitty tiny lil baby, she doesnt let you do anything on your own! she handfeds you, bathes you, dresses you up (she puts you in alot of her tshirts)

━━ spends most of her time with you, even if she's tired :'c , after an exhausting day being cooped in the basement learning spells her mind never stops wandering to you, wonderin' what ur doin.

━━ mama 'gatha cooing at you, giving you the best praises ever, exclaiming how proud she is of her baby as you succesfully count to 10 !

━━ she gives in so easily, mama 'gatha is terrible at saying no to you :( ! (only u have the power to do that to her & u dont even know it) a pout here or the moment your lips started to quiver she'll bend in in a sec

━━ would be the most fun, interactive yet gentle caregiver ever, she makes lil games for u with her magic, just giving everything in her might to make you smile.

━━ engages in your lil bab sillies! letting you play your rattle as long as you want (which sometimes could be so fluffing loud, one time one of her neighbours went to check asking if everything's alright, you r just a baby!)

━━ and everytime you go to a babble frenzy where you just babble and babble and babble she pretends like she knows what youre talking about so like 'uh-huhh!!' 'oh youre so right babyy' 'mhmm tell em bub, they shoulda known better!'

━━ always leaves a time in her day to play with you :( she spoils you to THE BRICK (you have a lot of toys!) she would do voices of your plushies/figurines giving them their own different voices & personalities!

━━ everytime you feel bad for regressing or "burdening" her she reminds you how much you mean to her & how much that not only your regression helps you, it helps her aswell !

✪ overall i need mama 'gatha to come here right now and baby the heck outta me!! >:( !!!!!

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

yes maybe any rules you follow while writing or what you think is important? would really help and I bet there's lots of ppl who wanna know

ok so I’ve put together a few but these are just my opinions. I’m not a fan of writing rules, so keep in mind that these are just my personal guidelines that I’ve learned over years and that always have exceptions. The most important thing is to have fun and to develop a feeling for what works and that’s something you only get through experience. My first fanfiction was crap but I had a blast writing it anyway. Hope this helps, lmk if you have questions 💕

Beginner:

Formatting. This is about reading economy for the reader. get rid of empty lines (there’s shortcuts in word for that). Use paragraphs (there’s info online when to start a new one). Use quotation marks (“” or »«, don’t get fancy). Punctuation (em vs en dash, comma goes before the quotation mark etc.). No caps lock. Use bold or italic for emphasis.

Consistency. choose whatever narrator you prefer, the tense to write in and the pov—stick to it throughout. See also: “head hopping”

Grammar & spelling. Doesn’t have to be perfect but just using a simple spell checker helps get rid of major issues.

Advanced:

in medias res. start as late as possible in the scene and leave at the earliest point. skip the simple stuff like waking up or falling asleep unless you have a reason to. This keeps the tension up.

always say less than necessary. give as little info in dialogue as possible. Usually I’ll write what I want the character to say and then go over it again and cut it to the bare minimum. People never say what they actually mean. I aim for not more than 2-3 sentences per direct speech section.

Avoid info dumping. Don’t have a character tell you their backstory. Show how it affects them today and drop subtle hints at it. Use environmental storytelling. When describing environment, sprinkle details throughout instead of putting them in a paragraph and try to always relate them to the character. Like what do they think of the carpet? Do they have a memory attached to it? Maybe the forest seems dark and lost to them because they have been kidnapped and feel lost. Stuff like that.

Rule of 3. This is for foreshadowing etc. once you mention something 3 times for some reason it gives the reader a sense of consistency and “roundness”. Referencing something that happened earlier in the story also helps make the world feel more real.

Avoid head hopping. Don’t switch from one character’s pov to the other’s in the same paragraph. Better even avoid it in the same scene or chapter. It’s hard to follow.

Overused phrases. “She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding” and more (you’ll find lists of that online).

Very niche:

Remove the filter. Whenever you’re tempted to write words like “saw”, “felt”, “heard” or other words pertaining to senses, see if you can rephrase the sentence. Just describe the thing directly. Ex: instead of writing “I looked at the clock.” write -> “The old fashioned clock on the wall showed it was already past lunch time.”

Said is not dead. Don’t overdo it with the dialogue tags. Said is a word that the reader skips over and doesn’t notice. It focuses the attention on the story rather than the writing, so no need to show off your vocab. Again, this is a case of do everything in measures. It’s not forbidden to use other dialogue tags on occasion—dosage is key!

Dosing adverbs (words ending in -ly). Same thing. Whenever I use an adverb in my writing followed by a verb, I try to think about whether there is a stronger verb to use so I won’t need the adverb. But sometimes it’s perfectly okay to use it. Like when you try to show a contrast. “She smiled happily” is redundant because a smile usually indicates happiness and you could use “she beamed” instead. But if you write “she smiled sadly” it’s an oxymoron and therefore a strong use of an adverb.

Metaphors/purple prose. Good and necessary but don’t overdo it. Rule of thumb for me is: use metaphors and similes etc to describe sensory input but keep it simple when describing actions. No need to write “she removed her elusive presence from the limited space of existence surrounding us.” Instead of “she left the room.”

A good scene for me ends in a different place (emotionally or/and physically) than it began.

Character voice. study the way a character speaks and try to mirror that in your writing. What kind of vocab do they use? Where are they from? Do they swear? What terms of endearment do they use? Do they speak more formal or informal or even slang? Where do they come from?

My favourite story structure: chiastic or reversed chiastic. Not gonna explain it here, if you’re interested you can look it up. This is just a personal favourite.

[snoringkitty1]

Caught

Tw: more fluff :> You and Leona cuddling, your relationship was still a secret..until Ruggie decided it wasn't.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It was pretty late in the evening, Leona and you were getting ready for bed. He of course was always ready for bed, he hardly took the time to change before he laid down and got comfortable.

"You're so fast to crawl into bed, Lazy lion." You chuckled and unbuttoned your blazer while you spoke. He rolled over to face you, his green gaze narrowing into a stubborn glare, "You could do the same, save us both the time."

You rolled your eyes and walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed and sticking your tongue out at him playfully. He scowled just a bit with a disgruntled expression, his tail lashing about fiercely as you taunted him.

"Just lay down, dammit." he huffed and reached for you, before you even had the thought to pull away he had you trapped between his arms. "But i haven't finished cha-!" he quickly interrupted your sentence with a kiss, gently holding your face before leaning back.

He grinned smugly seeing your baffled expression and red face, a wide and cheeky look on his face. "That shut ya up fast." he snickered and pinched your cheek. You swatted his hand away and lowered your head to keep your face out of sight.

"Stupid lion..just go to sleep.." You mumbled, he looked down at you. Still smug, but he softened up a bit and pulled you close, his tail wrapped around you and he held tightly onto your waist before he pulled a big blanket over the two of you.

You were completely hidden underneath, not that you minded, it was a safety measure so it was nearly impossible to see you, so no one would catch the two of you.

Speaking of, why were you and Leona keeping your relationship a secret? Perhaps Leona didn't want to tarnish your reputation with his own, as dating a lazy second born prince with a lot of baggage..well, people will talk.

You wouldn't care if the two of you were found out, but if it made him feel better, you agreed to keep your relationship a secret.

Leona fell asleep pretty fast after you playful argument, and listening to his soothing heartbeat and breathing put you to sleep fast as well.

Hour passed, and the sun began to rise on a new day. When morning comes, so does Savannahclaw's daily morning Spell drive training. And Ruggie knew Leona well enough to know he wasn't going to be getting up on his own, no chance.

"Hey, Boss!" came a stupidly energized voice, one that only belonged to Ruggie. Leona grumbled softly and nuzzled closer to your, his ears flattening as he tried to stay asleep.

"Come on, if you sleep the morning away not only will you miss training, you'll miss morning classes!" He huffed and put his hands on his hips before a sly toothy grin painted his face.

"You leave me no choice!" he snickered and stepped closer to the foot of the bed, grabbing a handful of the blanket and pulling it right off with ease.

You stiffened, Ruggie froze in surprise, and Leona seemed too bewildered to move. It was like the whole room had completely froze, that is, until Ruggie began to chuckle and laugh like the hyena he is. As he laughed, you could tell Leona was getting visibly agitated..which wouldn't work out well for Ruggie.

"Get. Out." Leona growled, his ears had flattened and he snarled. Seeing his anger, Ruggie quickly shut his trap and smiled awkwardly with his hands raised. "i'll just tell em you're sick! Yeah- that'll work-" he turned on a dime and quickly ran out.

With the hyena gone, Leona slumped over and sighed. You sat up and stretched before flopping onto him, "i'm pretty sure you can scare him into silence, y'know..?" you did your best to offer him solace, but he just flopped onto you, laying his head on your chest.

"Forget it, it was gonna happen at some point 'n time.." He grumbled, letting out a yawn once he had relaxed again. His tail wash lashing about, so you could tell that he was at the very least still irritated.

"Y'know..even if people don't like that i'm dating you, i thought you'd be the kind of guy who wouldn't care.." you hummed and brushed your hand through his hair. "Hmph..I don't want my poor rep to effect you..that's all." he sighed.

His tail gradually began to relax the more attention you put into messing with his hair or rubbing his ears. "I mean..I think less people will want to mess with the magicless Ramshackle student once they know I'm with you, y'know?"

He glanced up at you, those green eyes of his full of doubts and uncertainty. "I think the Savannahclaw students will treat me with more respect now! Well, that's if Ruggie goes running his mouth.." Leona smiled to himself seeing you so bright.

"I feel stupid for worrying about you." he hummed and closed his eyes, "Are you not going to morning training..?" You inquired and tilted your head, only to be met with soft snores. "You-" You sighed and rolled your eyes before kissing his forehead and leaning back, "Sweet dreams, Lazy lion.." You muttered and closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep soon after..

Thanks for reading.

[ghsface]

so this is what I wrote so far I had an idea while I was taking a bath and I had to write it. Tell me what you think, I'm not very good at writing since I haven't done it for a long time so I need your opinion. this will have smut btw and I'm also sorry if this has spelling mistakes or misspelled words my first language is not English

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

It was never a good idea to have a themed dinner at my house. It was all because of the idea that Penelope gave me when I said I was going to have a dinner after a case that left us all exhausted.

There were only hours until my guests arrived and I still hadn't showered and didn't know what to wear.

Emily would arrive in a few minutes to help me prepare the food. Just as I'm about to open my closet with all my clothes the doorbell rings letting me know that Emily was here to help me. I went to the door and opened it and it didn't take long for her to say

“What are you doing dressed like that, I thought you would be ready by now?” Emily looked at me worried knowing that it would never take me that long to get dressed.

“em, I don't have anything to wear, I should have said no to Penny when I said about the themed dinner, I don't have anything fancy or anything like that and I won't wear what I wear to work because it's for washing, and I didn't have time to wash the clothes or even unpacking the bag and putting clean clothes on it. And now I'm rambling, god this was not a good idea I'm so sorry.”

“You need to calm down right now okay, go take a shower and I'll prepare the food and then you'll have time to think about what you're going to wear but first go take a shower and relax, it's obvious that you need it.” Emily said

You didn't know why you followed Emily's orders but you knew you needed to relax and having her in your house knowing that you wouldn't have to worry about food calmed you down a little.

When you were taking a bath you heard the bell ring, it seemed strange to you because they wouldn't arrive until 07:30pm to start dinner. So you yelled at Emily from your bathroom. “Emily Please tell me that I lost sense of time and that everyone is not here”. You finished saying and Emily from the door answers you. “It's just jj that I called her to help me a little with the food, I hope you don't mind.”

“Don't worry em, she doesn't bother me at all.” You said, grateful that your friends are here to help you not lose your mind in the process.

When you finish bathing you hear a sound at the door and jj speaks. “I left you a surprise in your room, take it as an early birthday gift”. She said JJ with a smile you didn't see her but you knew she had her right now, she didn't give you time to respond since she left when you were going to respond.

You left your bathroom and entered your room to find a prefect black dress lying on your bed for tonight's theme, JJ really solved all your clothing problems that you had today, she saved your life.

When you were finishing putting on your makeup, the only thing missing was your hair, you heard your doorbell once again, knowing that it was time for your guests to come. Emily yelled from the kitchen, "I'll open it," knowing that you weren't done yet.

When you heard her voices you did your best to finish and go out to greet everyone.

When you finished you looked in the mirror and felt like the sexiest woman in the world. You would never stop thanking JJ for this beautiful dress. It fit your curves so well and gave you such a big butt. It just looked perfect on you.

You left the room and everyone greeted you.

“There is our hostess”. She said Penny with a smile on her face as she came over to give you a hug.

#You look so beautiful in that dress babygirl”. Derek said greeting you and complimenting you at the same time.

Emily and JJ high-fived each other when they saw you in that dress and you knew they were onto something.

You greeted the rest and noticed that since you entered the room Spencer had not taken his eyes off you, you felt so flattered and so nervous, since your crush on a certain doctor could never completely go away even if you could.

You were in love with Reid for about 3 years, it all started as friendship but from one day to the next you began to see him with different eyes. He is so sweet with you, so attentive that you realized that it wasn't like that with everyone on the team. But for fear of losing such a beautiful friendship that you had with him, you never confessed your love to him.

When it was Spencer's turn to greet you, you noticed he was tense as if he were nervous.

“Are you OK?” You whispered so quietly so the others wouldn't hear.

He simply answered you. “I'm fine, don't worry and thank you for the invitation”. He said with a smile on his face as he finished the last sentence.

Dinner went normally, they ate and drank the wine that Rossi brought, you also noticed stolen glances from Spencer throughout almost the entire dinner, you wouldn't lie if they told you that you did it too. Dessert time arrived and everyone was scattered around your living room and balcony, your apartment was not that big but you had a dream balcony, you had a view of Washington so beautiful that you would spend hours sitting there with a cup of coffee and a book, but now you were with emily talking about you don't even know why you weren't paying attention to her you were just watching spencer talk to morgan. Until they hit your shoulder  and you heard a giggle coming from your side.

“You're going to give him the evil eye if you keep looking him like that”. emily said amused. “I’m not looking at it, you know, it’s not just Spencer in this house right now,” you said, rolling your eyes at the brunette’s joke.  “And there you gave yourself away Y/N I never said Reid's name, and of course my suspicions ended up being true as always”. " Emily said with a smile from eye to ear. “I don't know what you're talking about”. you said, eating a spoonful of your ice cream and walking into your house, avoiding everything  Emily said.

After many talks, stories, jokes, it was time to clean and you came up with the joke of asking who would help you but it didn't turn out as you expected.

“Who will help me clean?” You didn't know why you said it but you knew it was the wine glasses speaking for you.

As soon as you finished saying the last word, everyone grabbed their things and gave you absurd excuses like “I have to go see Sergio,” Emily said and JJ followed up with the excuse saying that she also had to see if Sergio was okay, which made you It seemed strange. Morgan didn't hesitate to grab Penny's arm to take her home and see that she arrived safely, and then you saw Hotch and Rossi saying that tomorrow they had to wake up early, you didn't doubt Hotch since he takes Jack to school but Rossi didn't. I had no business tomorrow morning that you knew of.

And then you listened and noticed that the only one who hadn't left was Spencer. And then you heard Derek talking to spencer. “Won't you come lover boy?” Derek ask him, looking at him with a funny face. “I'll stay and help y/n clean and then I'll go home”. Spencer said, determined to fulfill his task of helping you clean.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Please let me know what you think of this so far in the comments. love you guys<3

Also let me know if this is bullshit or I should end it.

[apomaro-mellow]

King&Prince 6

Nancy was pacing back and forth. Normally, it made Eddie anxious, but since he knew exactly what was on her mind, he decided to let her continue until her short legs tired her out.

"I just-I don't understand you. How can you give him free reign of the castle?"

"He doesn't have free reign", Eddie said.

"Did you put a collar on him? Or cuffs?", Nancy asked. When Eddie shook his head, she continued. "Do you put any sort of spell on him? Or charm?"

"Robin can handle herself. And there's always guards nearby if he steps out of line."

Nancy looked him up and down, then crossed her arms. "It's almost like you have faith in him or something."

Eddie couldn't describe what he was feeling. He couldn't forgive the Harringtons for what they had been doing. But Dustin was right. Unless he could prove that Steve had been directly responsible, it wasn't right to punish him. He could still dislike him, since he definitely benefited from the misdeeds of his family.

And there was a slim chance those hard feelings would ever change.

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

Steve got dressed just in time to hear someone knock on the door.

"Hey, your royal slowness, we haven't got time for you to soak all day. I have actual important things to do."

It sounded like the woman from before. The one who didn't want him. Steve opened the door to her unimpressed face.

"Let's go."

"Without shoes?", Steve asked, looking down his bare feet.

"You won't need 'em."

She led him down the hall, past some windows and Steve got his first glimpse of the outside. It looked...normal. Nothing like the blackened, dead trees, and the dry, salted earth that he'd been led to believe this area was. The trees were wilting, sure, but in the typical way ones did in autumn. There was grass and even people doing chores outside.

Past the castle walls, he could make out something in the distance that looked like a town.

"Keep up!"

Steve tore his eyes away and saw that she was a long ways ahead of him. He jogged to catch up, noting the carpet on the floor. He was suddenly reminded of being very young and still allowed to go barefoot outside his quarters.

"Alright", she opened up a closet that was filled with instruments. "I need these moved over to the other end of the south wing and then polished and shined."

"So you're using a prince as both a pack mule and a maid?", Steve asked, brow raised. "What if I refuse?"

"Then I get our all-powerful king to put a compulsion hex on you and hypnotize you to do it anyway."

"Steve!", Dustin exclaimed when he came around the corner, beaming. "I went down to visit you and you were gone! They set you free?"

"I'm less free and more like free labor, apparently."

"You know you're not supposed to go down into the dungeons, Dustin."

"I see you've met Robin. Don't worry, she's nicer than she looks", Dustin grinned.

"Not nice enough to not tell Eddie what you've been doing. And I'm pretty sure he threatened to tell your mom. Maybe I'll just cut out the middle man", Robin warned.

Dustin paled. "You wouldn't dare."

Robin gestured to the musical instruments. "Help out with this and I won't tell a soul."

Dustin let out a breath of relief. "Menial work? That's it? Between Steve and me, we can knock this out easy."

Steve frowned. "I never said I'd-"

"This spoiled brat probably can't even lift a flute", Robin challenged.

"He knows how to kill a guy like a dozen different ways. Steve could finish this in like ten minutes", Dustin countered.

"Ooh, challenge accepted", Robin turned, ignoring Steve's protests. "I'll be in the second music room. Keep his highness on a tight leash."

Fully roped into it, Steve started hauling instruments. Dustin was talking, but he was thinking of his escape. He had no shackles, no bars. He could find a moment to get past the walls and then...maybe it would be better to sneak to the stables and get a horse first. He dreaded the thought of traveling such a distance with no shoes though. Maybe someone had a pair lying around?

Could he steal a pair in town without anyone noticing? He doubted most townsfolk would recognize him as an enemy prince. Steve was deep in his escape plan strategizing, that he just nodded along and 'mhm'ed to whatever it was that Dustin was saying. That kid could talk to a wall and keep the conversation going, which he was pretty much doing now, talking to Steve.

He barely even noticed that they were done moving things until the woman, Robin, threw a cloth at him.

"I want these shiny enough to see my reflection in them", she ordered.

"Why are you making him do all this?", Dustin asked.

"I'm getting new students tomorrow and they deserve nice equipment."

Dustin's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"Oh no one you'd know. Except for Mike."

"Mike?!"

"And Max. And El, oh and Lucas and", Robin went on naming people, some Steve knew, others that he didn't.

"Bullshit! There's no way they're all taking classes!"

"Oh they are. And you are too", Robin said while leaving the room.

Incredulous, Dustin followed her out, leaving Steve alone in the room. Alone. They had left him alone. He looked to the open door, leading out into the hallway, then the instruments spread out on tables and the floor, covered in dust.

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

Jeff and Nancy were strolling the halls, discussing how best to prepare for any sort of retaliation when they heard whistling. It wasn't the sound that gave them pause, but where it was coming from. A music room that wasn't supposed to be in use yet. They poked their heads in and saw Prince Steve, whistling a happy working tune while shining a shining a trumpet.

The two of them pulled their heads out, shared a mutual expression of confusion and went to seek out Eddie to report to him, but he was nowhere to be found. That usually meant he was off in town or visiting some other part of the kingdom. Either way, they wouldn't be able to talk to him until he returned.

Steve didn't spend too long rationalizing why he was doing this. He was just biding his time until he came up with a more solid plan. Even though his homeland wasn't really a home, at least no one there wanted to actively kill him. He wasn't safe here and he couldn't forget that. He especially couldn't let his guard down around the king.

Robin remembered him a couple of hours later and led him back to the room he'd first been brought to. Steve had time to actually look at it now. Smaller than his own room but larger than the prison cell. Definitely warmer to. But besides that, it was very minimal and sparse. A bed, a small drawer, and the bathroom. Steve wondered what this room was for. It was an odd sort of guest room.

Robin said something about dinner being brought up but Steve paid it no mind when he realized he'd be sleeping on a bed tonight. He collapsed into it and buried himself in the blanket. He'd be having sleep for dinner.

Part 8

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @sugartin @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things

[everythingelseisextra]

Come Home (Tommy's Perspective)

Part Fifteen: David and Goliath

Description: Tommy doesn't tell you everything. So much gets stuck in his mouth, including his business. Warnings: PTSD, language, Tommy being angsty I guess Word Count: 4796 (sorry) Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @Majesticcmey @Optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @fairytale07 @dreamy-caramel @ce1iat @algae-tm @dragonsondragons @trentknd @nothingofsimplicity @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @globetrotter28 @look-at-the-soul

12 Hours before the attack on the barn

When she leaves, my mind clears. I think differently when she’s here. Softer, like a spell cast to make what I’ve learned and what I’ve made myself less important. She leaves out the front door, and I walk back through the house. Footsteps echoing through the halls like a heartbeat. It’s easy to slip back into a routine, to abide by the list that creates itself somewhere in my head. I find the phone and dial the number without thinking about it. Pick it up, hold it to my ear, wait.

“Hello, Tommy.” Arthur, the usual rashness to his words drowned out by the phone’s crackling. His drawl is recognizable to me like I’d know my own hand, and it’s something of a comfort after the talk I’d had with her. “Why’re you calling me at this hour?”

I forget he’s not awake nearly as early as I am. My day, and her day, too, starts before the sun. I don’t give it any pause. He doesn’t care about the real reason I’m calling him. Wants his orders from his sergeant major and to put his head down and do it. “I need you to start what we talked about, Arthur. With the girls. Talk to ‘em, get what you can out of them, see if you can find any of the men who hold their leashes.” 

“On it, Tom.” A rustling of movement tells me he’s just finishing getting dressed. “That all?” 

“Tell John to do the same. Stay on the outside, don’t stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong.” I can smell breakfast in the air. All I want is a drink and a cigarette. Too early for that. Need to eat. “Tell me what you find.”

“All this for that woman who sprayed you with the hose, eh?” There’s amusement in his tone that I don’t like. Like he’s caught me on some trick I took, like he has something on me. Maybe he does. 

“Yep,” I say shortly, not inviting more questions. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing. Just looking out for you, Tom, that’s all.” 

“I know what I’m doing.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, then drop my hand. “Goodbye.”

“We’re worried about you here. Seems a bit soon, doesn’t it? After Grace and all that—”

“Goodbye, Arthur.” I put the phone down and huff out a breath. 

Seems a bit soon. Maybe it is. Maybe I’m all up in my head, afraid to be alone at night, so I attached to the first kind face I saw. Maybe our meeting was some mistake made by me to draw her into the dark. 

No. She carries the same burden as I do, in a different form. If our meeting was anything, it was mercy. If some cosmic mistake is what brought us together then it will take another one to tear us apart. 

—

Alfie Solomons leaves after the briefing on the Russians. The door remains open. My brothers stay. Their eyes flick down to the ground and stay there, and I slowly sit back down onto my chair. None of them want to be the first to talk. I look to Arthur, let him feel my gaze. If I feel something at their reluctance to leave, it’s too deep for me to be aware of it. I shy away from feeling too deeply. Nothing set in stone, and yet, everything a dirt road. Tread the same path too long and it will become the only path there is. I refuse to be limited by my own emotion. 

“So, Russians, hey?” Arthur tries at skirting away from whatever shames him. I stare up at him, unamused. “We— we uh— we fucked up, Tom.” Arthur stumbles over the confession and John shoots him a look of venom. “I fucked up.”

I raise an eyebrow, waiting. 

“One of the girls— well, you know how they are— I had some drink in me and she— she asked some questions. Shouldn’t have answered them, Tom. Should’ve kept my bloody mouth shut. It doesn’t matter now, they know. I told it to ‘em, and now they know. Nothing to do but—”

“What do they know, Arthur?” I keep my voice even. My head throbs where the stitches were taken out months ago, another sign of my dawning insanity. 

“You know how it is, they act all nice to ya and—”

“He told them about hose-girl.” John cuts in. “He told them that he knows about the one that got away.”

My eyes lock onto the drawer in the desk where my gun sits, hidden. “How much did you tell them?”

“Ah, well, it was all very— I mean, I told them—”

“Get to the fucking point.” Inside that drawer is a weapon I’ve held to the temples of many a man, myself included. Inside that drawer is the hope I have of protecting my own. Including her.

“I told them she has horses. That’s all. That she has horses and doesn’t live in town. All I said, I swear it.” His voice carries bravado, covering up for the anxiety I know he has. He doesn’t like displeasing me, and he certainly has. 

My words come short and quiet. “You gave them definitive information about a woman they’ve been trying to find for years.” 

His silence resonates. 

“Answer me, Arthur.” I tear my eyes from the drawer to pin him down, trying to lock onto his shifty eyes. 

“Yes, sir, I did.” He looks to John for support, pleading with him for backup. He finds nothing but a stony face. 

“And you didn’t think to inform me of this before I planned to meet with the fucking Russians?” My voice threatens to raise and his eyes grow furtive. 

“I thought—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you thought!” I stand, slamming a hand down on the desk in front of me. Arthur flinches. “Her blood is on your hands, and you’re standing there telling me what you thought?” 

“It was my mistake, Tom, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’re fucking sorry. We’re all fucking sorry.” I grit my teeth, grind them, and walk out from behind the desk. They turn on instinct, soldiers at attention, their eyes on my back. “We go to the Russians, and we go to save what’s left of her. Understood?”

“Yes.” John’s voice.

“Arthur?” His name is rancid on my tongue. I grow antsy, a green horse on its first ride, flinching and preparing to bolt. I should be by her side, getting her out of there. I should be hunting down the man who thought he could own someone like her. 

But I have business. The world slowly lowers down on my shoulders, and I am not Atlas. I cannot shrug. 

—

I leave the Russians with the scent of cigarettes, whiskey, and Tatiana’s perfume lingering on me, and the thought of Grace stuck in my head. I was careless, and now I’m hungover, disorganized. The night is still young, and we reach home before the moon is bright in the sky. First thing I do is pick up the phone and call Moss. I ask him about a woman in a barn outside of Birmingham, and he tells me they found two dead bodies with her. 

“She’s safe?” 

“She is for now. She won’t talk and she has no record, Mr. Shelby, we gotta take her in.” 

“No.” I shake my head. “Keep her. See if she’ll talk. I’ll come get her.”

I need an ally. I need help, with everything, not just the quiet things. I need someone who can stare down the barrel of a gun and keep their mouths shut. I need someone who ignores the urge to run, who knows that they’re a monster, too. Two dead bodies found at the barn. One smashed, one shot. When I close my eyes, I can see myself pulling the trigger, smashing the skull. When I think about it, I can feel her fear and determination. My brow furrows, my lips part. She sits alone in a cell while men she doesn’t know interrogate her. 

“Is that all, Mr. Shelby?”

“Don’t.” I shake my head, a headache stretching between my temples. “Don’t make her talk. Let her wait. I’ll be there.”

“Yessir, Mr. Shelby.”  

“That’s all, Moss. Goodnight.”

I put the phone down and make my way to the bathroom to clean myself off, to rid myself of the smell of other women and spirits and the taste of Grace on my lips. So that she doesn’t smell it, yes, and so that I can forget it ever happened. So that I can wash off the shame and fear and overwhelming sense of loneliness. So that the path I tread doesn’t become beaten. 

—

After I’ve cleaned the wounds on her head, after the blood has been washed off, after the sins of my war have been confessed, she sleeps in the bed next to me. I’m on my back, but my head is tilted. Her eyes flutter beneath her eyelids. Her lips part slightly. Moonlight shines on her skin. A swollen bump grows underneath her chin, skin broken. 

If I could love her, it would be heavy. Something to carry with me. My love, I’ve learned since Grace, has teeth. Maybe it isn’t love. Maybe possession, maybe control. I can grip with clenched, white knuckles. I can force someone to come back to me, not because they want to, because they have to. I want to love her but I doubt that I can. When I try, something hurts, and I cannot tell her where, only that it does.

A desperate part of me that I do not visit often wants to know what it’s like to be consumed. I am always the possessor, not the possessed. I want to be claimed. I want her love to have teeth, like mine, that can show me that my armor is only skin. If she was the one to cut me, I would bleed forever. That desperation believes that, even with Grace’s death, there is a person out there made exactly for me. That desperation believes that the war I fought in might be echoed in someone else’s. That desperation believes that I have found her and I am ruining it. 

I get up from the bed and my body aches. Faint bruises form on my trachea, where Tatiana pressed down. I look at myself in the mirror and empty eyes stare back. There is fear behind them. I want to lay back down with her and forget about last night and tonight and all the regrettable nights I will undoubtedly have until she is brave enough to touch me. 

In three days time I crawl back into a tunnel, deep underneath the earth, with the pressure of the world lying over me, precarious. I brave the underground for the sake of a robbery that could make or break my career. I promised Grace to stay legal. She’s dead. And the company runs.

—

“We have your son. Get in the car.” 

Rain patters on the outside of the car. I’m in a tinfoil box, and my son is out there. “First. Is he safe?”

“Of course he’s safe. All children are dear to me.”

Michael’s voice, his confession, speaks to me from memory. My son, in the hands of men who have little respect for physical boundaries. Who have little respect for children themselves.

“You have all the cards. Tell me what you want me to do, and I will certainly do it.” My words are choked at the ends, not broken, but holding anger and panic. 

“You ever drive one of these beasts?”

“I’m asking you to conduct business.”

“I borrowed it. Lent it. By a lord. For the duration of this business.”

My head bowed, my eyes unblinking, staring forward, waiting for the order that will save my son. I breathe heavily. I have no choice. I have to comply. “I will certainly do what you need me to do with no complaints.”

“We were forced into doing this awful thing. We did warn you that your son would be in danger if you deviated from the plan.” The priest speaks to me like I’m thick, words slow and gentle and pretentious. “It was you who made a mistake, you understand that?”

“Yes.” Anything. Anything to get him back. 

“What mistake did you make? Do you even know?”

Now it’s a game. A show of power. I have no choice. I must comply. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“You made a deal with our enemies.”

“I will do what needs to be done.” “You went behind our backs to stop the Soviets from blowing up the train. But it’s alright. It’s alright. We’ve rectified your mistake. You ask me ‘what do I need to do?’ Well, here’s what you need to do, you fucking mongrel, you.” He hands me an envelope. I take it with shaking hands. “But since the Bolsheviks will not be blowing up the train, you’ll blow up the train yourself. It’s always been about the explosion. From the beginning. The bang. The outrage. Understand?”

I nod, unable to do anything else. A mechanical movement, trained into me, comply, comply, comply. 

“Those are notes and fragments for you to scatter in the wreckage. Implicating named officials from the Soviet embassy.” 

“I will scatter them. It will be done.” 

“Good. Our friends at the Time and the Daily Mail will do the rest. And once the British government cuts diplomatic relations with the Soviet Union, that will be our mission accomplished. You’ll have been part of a fine adventure.” His eyes land on me. I can feel his gaze, despicably soft brown eyes, a red herring. “To help with the outrage, we need people to die in the explosion.” 

I feel nothing. I am an empty shell of a man, puppeteered by a God that despises me. “How many?”

“Let’s say; six? Rail workers, perhaps. Men from the factory.” 

I nod. That's all I can do. “And I want my son returned to me within an hour of the explosion.” 

“Oh, it’s conditions now, is it?” The amusement in his words sends chills down my back. I shift forward.

“We need to fix the handover in advance.” Firmness. Clinging to what little power I have. 

“I haven’t finished with you yet, Mr. Shelby. We also hear you’re digging a tunnel. Mining for precious stones under Wilderness House. I’m told they have a faberge in the strong room. The Lilies Of The Valley Egg, made in 1898. One of the Odd Fellows has a wife who’s obsessed with faberge. He wants to give her the egg for her birthday…”

“He will have it.” Comply.

“And the economic league will take all the jewels that you steal, to cover our considerable expenses. The fight against communism isn’t cheap, you know? So if you want to see your—”

“I will bring you all the jewels.”

“A bang first. Then bring everything you’ve stolen to your office at dawn.” 

I shake my head. “No. No. I’ll not be able to get the jewels to you by dawn. The tunnel has hit clay.”

“If the Saint Andrews clock strikes 5:00 am on the night of the robbery, and we don’t have everything that we’ve asked for, the bell will be tolling for your boy.” 

Thunder rumbles. I nod, closing my eyes. My son. The last piece of Grace I have. 

“Now get out of my fucking car.”

—

A day has passed since I’ve seen her. She has her horses. She’ll think of me when she has the time, wonder where I’ve gone off to. I have no doubt she’ll worry tonight. She’ll pace the room we share and think she’s made a mistake, some blunder that’s chased me away. I think as I drive that this might be the end. My disappearance, my lack of communication, my lies, might be the final straw for her. She knows nothing of the Russians or the Soviets, knows only little of the priest. I’m sure she expects me back when the sun starts to go down. I’m sure her sleep will be fitful or impossible without knowing where I am. 

I won’t be going home tonight. She will rise before dawn, when I crawl out of a tunnel, and she will wonder where I am. Perhaps she’ll call Ada, who’ll tell her nothing. I am Midas. When I touch her, she turns cold, so I don’t. I don’t tell her of the business I conduct because she doesn’t deserve to be part of this bloody fucked up world I’ve created. So, she’ll wake up, and I’ll be gone. No explanation, no contact. And I’ll come home when the sun has risen and I’ll explain nothing. I protect my own. 

I protect my own, but I’ve chosen Charlie over her, and of that I am guilty. 

There’s gray in the sky when I arrive at the tunnel. Johnny Dogs shouts at me, seeking an explanation for my sudden appearance. I shout back something about my boy and the priest and midnight, and before he can stop me, I climb down into the tunnel. 

I don’t feel. I try to chase away the ebb and flow of my head during daylight, above ground, when the danger separates itself from the soldier I used to be. I’ve built a dam between myself and whatever wave of emotion comes crashing in. I can see it come, but I am never drowned by it. Not when I’m on top of the world instead of underneath it. 

I am trapped in a birth canal of mud and the sound of picks against clay. I cannot move in any direction without being pressed against some wall. I watch the only way out disappear behind me. There’s no escape except to complete my mission and pierce through the earth. Some nightmare shakes the earth around me. My heart pounds in my chest. I’m covered by dirt and it staunches the blood from the abrasions; from the axes, from the rough stones, from myself, that mark my shaking body. 

The single lantern flashes shadows and I can hear the Germans against the barrier in front of us. A race against time begins. No apparatus supports us, all we have are pickaxes to eat away at the earth in front of us. Tunnel warfare springs to life, and my head pounds, and the dam is broken. My hands shake and my eyes are wide and there’s no doubt that I am terrified. Doesn’t matter. I can be scared and still work, still function, still complete the business I’ve forced myself into. There are men by my side that inch forward with every second, who I trust, who know the tunnels as damn well as I do. 

I am ripped into being alive. Sensations, doubts, fears, absolute terror, things I have not felt since the war. On hands and knees, chipping away at impossibility, the earth rumbling with soldier’s feet and mines exploding on the no-man’s-land I tunnel beneath. Strangely, there is fear, and next to it a sense of belonging. This is my grave that I dig, and I am meant to die here, underground. This is my home, the first place I learned to run from, the first place I promised myself I would never return. 

One of the men seizes and I do nothing to help him but send him out. On the edge of the shakes myself, I am wired to do nothing but dig. Forcing the wet clay apart, blood and sweat dripping from my forehead, inching forward bit by bit with the other men. 

I remember rot. I remember bodies buried in the clay. I remember the sun being a dream. I remember each shake of the earth a bad omen, each sound of picks on the other side a forewarning to our deaths. God watched idly as I buried myself and other men in a grave I dug myself. We told each other not to listen when we screamed, when we convulsed at night, when we broke from the pressure of the world on our shoulders. 

I can feel sludge beneath me, slipping, and I know I’m going too fast. My men build supports with timber to hold up the earth on weak substructures. Condensation drips onto me. The ground around us shivers, rocks tumble from around the supports, and we pause, waiting, expecting to be buried. Nothing. 

Gasping for breath. Body bruised and battered. Swimming in the suffocating pressure of the earth surrounding us. Trying desperately to dig upwards, to save our own lives. To survive. None of it real, just the sound my picks and the men building supports.  

I reach the end and plant an explosive. Backing away. Blinking the blood and sweat out of my eyes. It goes off, and I expect to be buried but have no time to fear it. Before the smoke clears, I’ve escaped the tunnel, and I can breathe, if only for a moment. My shaking hands scoop jewels into a canvas bag, giving no thought to what I grab, where I grab from. I take and take and take. 

There’s a shout that I don’t have much time. I suck in a breath, snatch blindly at the last few jewels. Crawl back into the tunnel, throwing the bag of jewels in front of me, following the men as they begin the creep back up. 

I’m the last out. The other men have gone to clean themselves up. Panting, I lie in the dirt where I belong, and roll onto my back to stare up at the black sky. My breath fogs the air. Bits of my body stings where the skin was scraped off. And I pant. 

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. 

—

Somehow, I manage to drive. I don’t see the trees around me, don’t see the grass or the hills, just look straight ahead as my destination grows on the horizon. A single phone booth on the side of the road, resolute. I don’t turn off the car, stepping out and walking unsteadily over to it. I place a coin in, turn the handle, and wait. 

“Let me speak to him,” I say.

My son’s babbling fills the phone and I smile. “Hello, Charlie.” 

He’s unharmed. He’s safe. The nightmare, for now, is over. A lump forms in my throat and I don’t understand it. I’m smiling. I’m relieved. My hand shakes. There’s extra liquid in my eyes. 

“Hello, Charlie,” I say again. He responds with a quiet dadda and nothing else. 

“Can you hear me?” I sniffle and fend off the rising pressure in my chest, holding it off until I’m done, until I know he’s safe. 

He mumbles something about being tired and I smile again, heart simultaneously filling and being stabbed with something cold. “Yeah. You go to bed. Good boy.” 

The call ends and I put the phone down. Something in me bends and bends and bends and then, finally, snaps. My brow furrows and I squeeze my eyes shut and a small sob wracks my body. 

It was a success. My son is safe. The jewels are ready. I should be fucking grateful that I survived this. That we survived this. 

There’s a sense in me that there was no success, only what appears to be one. There’s a sense in me that tells me I’ve pushed those I want close further and further from me. There’s a sense that I will never be the man I hope to be because it’s hard when I’m always fucking unwanted. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel unless I blow it up. There’s no joy to be had unless I force it. 

And I sob, because I feel everything. There’s an ache in my chest and a hole in my heart. There’s pain through my body and a horrible loneliness in my head. There’s relief, pure and unadulterated, and there’s terror lingering from the tunnel, images flashing through my mind of what burned itself into my mind in France. Claustrophobia burns through me. I sob over what I’ve destroyed like I want to stop and worship it, and soon, I’ll be back with a pick in my hand and explosives waiting. 

My son has grown up barely knowing me because I’m consumed by business. My heart has been broken too many times and I fear that it will never be made whole. I am a soldier with only the cause of ambition to guide me. And I feel everything, even though I try to hide it. 

I take a breath, pressing my eyes closed, then pull myself together and straighten. I call her. I suspect she won’t pick up, but I try anyway. 

There’s a click and her voice, distorted by the distance, says my name in a tone I can only describe as fearful. “Tommy?”

“Yes,” I say, words still choked. 

“Where have you been?” Not steady, not brave, not the tone I know from her. 

“Business.” It’s the only explanation I can give. 

“Business? For two days straight?” 

“Yes. For two days straight. You need to know who I am.” I squeeze the earpiece, stopping my voice from wavering. “You need to know that I can’t give you what you want.”

There’s quiet on the other end of the phone. My hand continues to shake.

“What happened?” The fear is gone, in its place, worry.

“Nothing happened,” I lie. “Do you understand me? I can’t be the one you need. You think I’m going to change but those fuckers out there are worse than I am.” 

“I’ve never wanted you to change. I’ve never asked for that. And no one can be everything to someone. I’m not expecting that from you. I just want you to tell me when you’re going to be gone like this.” 

“They’ve issued an arrest for my family and I have to let it happen.” 

“What?” 

“For my brothers, for Pol, for Esme and Linda. I made the wrong enemies.” Please, forget about me, choose to leave. “You should go before it all goes to shit.”

“Tommy. I’m not going. I’m staying with you. You’ve made a mistake, that doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon you. I told you I would forgive your rottenness and I plan to keep that promise.” Her voice is strained. “Tom, just come home, we can talk—”

“I’ve gotten mixed up in something too big for me.” I close my eyes, a small tear dripping out. “I won’t have a family after this.”

“Thomas Shelby, I swear to God, if you don’t come home, I’m tracking you down and dragging you here myself. Okay? So get back in your car and drive your ass home. You’re gonna be fine, you’re not gonna end up without a family. You’re going to be fine.” Her voice softens towards the end and I feel myself drawn towards her, despite everything. “You won’t be alone.”

“I fucked another woman.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. Quit trying to make excuses for me to leave you. Come home, we’ll calm you down, and we’ll talk about it.” 

“My brothers told them where you were. The attack was my fault.”

“I get what’s happening here. Something scared you, and you think you’re hurting everyone around you, so you’re self-sabotaging. Come home. That’s all I want. Don’t you want to give me what I want?” 

I do. I always want to give her what she wants. There are better men out there who could love her. There are better people who could protect her without making the mistakes I did. 

They’ll have to get through me, though. 

“I’ll come home.” I open my eyes and blink hard, ridding them of their bleariness. “I’m not the man you want, love.”

“So you keep saying.” Her words grow wry. “You forget that you don’t get to tell me what I want. And I want you. I don’t know how to make that any clearer to you.” 

I nod and give in to the words she speaks. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon, Tom. Yes?”

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

I put the phone down. This shallow world, this twisted and broken body I live in, this mind that I cannot control, somehow she is a master of all of it. Somehow she puts me at ease. Love, I think, is two people inspiring each other to live. And she gives me a reason, and she stays by my side. 

Dawn breaks, and I walk back to my car in silence. 

[cwilbbber]

hello! This is my new and improved intro , my old one was outdated and looked a bit odd so i decided to update it :^)

ok ok , before anything happens I’m going to put some rules / DNI & BYF!

݁ᛪ༙ Do remember this is NOT a roleplay blog , I am a alter! A fictive/introject part of a DID system!

݁ᛪ༙ feel free to dm me!

݁ᛪ༙ I do not support William Gold , do not associate me with wss. Dni if you support cc!dreamwastaken

݁ᛪ༙ Feel free to interact! I enjoy asks , etc. and I’ll talk to anyone , fictives and kins alike! Feel free to ask me things or just be silly.

݁ᛪ༙ I mainly block freely but do dni if you’re wss , 18+ (unless I int first) or if you’re a pro/com/darkshipper!!!

Who am I?

݁ᛪ༙ I’m Wilbur! You can call me Wilbur , wilb , wil , bur , alivebur , revivebur , etc. I use he/any prns , I’m aromantic && greyace! I’m bigender

݁ᛪ༙ I love writing , drawing/painting , music , plays , musicals , plants , folklore , reading and cooking/baking among other things!!

݁ᛪ༙ I often misspell a lot unless I’m purposely trying to spell good — this is for the fact im dyslexic and also have very shaky hands so I often misspell things! I have lots of illnesses that affect how am I am and how I act such as social anxiety , depression , autism and adhd , and possibly schizophrenia. I also have chronic illnesses such as chronic pain , POTs , asthma and insomnia! I’m often very forgetful and I may not always be in the best mood due to these things , please try and be mindful!

Other?

݁ᛪ༙ as long as you aren’t a bad person you can interact! Though personally I’m looking for any c!phil , c!techno , c!tommy , c!quackity and etc.

Tags!

@fundyfromlmanberg <- very cool fox , awesome person who draws !

@fictionkincdream <- dream , he’s very awesome , go check out the silly prison man!!

@sapnapblaze1 <- haven’t talked to them much but give sapnap a hello :^)

@tommyinnit-fictkin <- Tommy!! He’s very silly , give big man a follow!!

@slimeciclekin <- slime! Go follow this silly silly persons account!!

@silverwaredrawersys <- awesome…awesome mootie…eating their art… /vpos

@barzfrommarz <- c!wilbur enjoyer and one of my moots , do give ‘em a follow!!

@aviansystemsposts <- very cool system , kind in our brief interactions and has very cool swaggy things!

@anger-and-dust <- Quackity,,, c!quackity,,big q,,,….

Sorry for anyone I’ve forgotten to tag :^)

[queenmuzz]

Zea Ingellvar’s Codex

Based off this prompt. I will attempt to put one out each day

11. Report summarizing what is known about Rook by an allied or enemy faction

Polonius,

Forget what I said about warriors being dumb brutes.  Because I just saw the most terrifying thing ever.  

We heard that Rook was in the area, and there’s a bounty out for her, and double the bounty if we bring her in alive with the dagger. She only had a dumb looking Qunari and an old mage with her.  We would outnumber them five to one.  Split the bounty fifteen ways, live like kings.  So we decide to ambush the group.

Didn’t take long before the bounty went from split fifteen ways, to twelve.  Cicero went down first, skull crushed like a damn melon by a damn greathammer.  The woman has the strength of Dwarven Golem.  

The Qunari took down Lucina, and that willowy mage used that weird Nevvaran necromatric magic and blasted Antonius to smithereens.

So we decided to all focus fire on one of them, try to pick ‘em off one by one until only Rook is left standing, and as per protocol, we go for the mage.  He’s old, and looks like a gust of wind could blow him down.  He’s getting tired and distracted.  So, while I occupy the qunari, Janus begins powering a fireball while Quintus hides behind his shield, ready to charge and skewer the guy.  Two against one, easy peasy.  Unfortunately Rook sees the pincer move.  The thing is, we think she can only stop one of them.  Take out Janus, that leaves an opening for Quintus.  Take out Quintus, Janus has the breathing room to cast a spell.

Then Rook decides to throw her shield at Janus, and bowls him over.  I still remember his head hitting the pavement.  The snap of his neck.  The way he convulsed for a few seconds,then went limp.  Never gonna get that image out of my mind.  But Quintus has an opportunity.  He’s got a clear shot at the mage.

And then Rook does the craziest thing.  She runs over and  puts  her body between Quintus and the old mage, taking the spear in the shoulder.  But it gets even more fucked up.  She grabs Quintus’s shield, yanks it and him towards her, the spear now going through her back, and -I swear to Elgar’nan- headbutts the guy.

Of course now, the qunari realizes what’s going on, and before I can stop her, she roars and as Quintus is getting back up to yank the spear out, blood streaming down his nose- I shit you not- the damn qunari breathes out fire.  Lights Quintus up like a damn he’s soaked in oil.  The smell… the screams.  I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW QUNARI COULD BREATHE FIRE!  HOW IN ANDORAL'S ASS DID ROOK RECRUIT A FREAK LIKE THAT!?

Everyone has the same idea as me.  Getting the fuck out of there.  Forget the bounty. The real prize is surviving this fight.  We’re fleeing this place.  Drusilla gets yanked to the ground by a green skeletal hand and we just… left her. I can still hear her begging us to not leave her behind.  

So anyway, the nine of us manage to get out of there.  Rook’s down, and her friends are distracted, so we think we’re home free.

We THINK.

Because guess what happens next?  We just hear this growly demony voice say “YOU. HURT. ROOK.”  And Phillia and Martinus just get their necks snapped.

Because the higher ups didn’t bother to tell us lowly peons that the  DEMON OF MOTHER FUCKING VYRANTIUM is also allied with Rook. Yes, I KNOW we got told Zara killed him.  Apparently he got better.  And now he can FLY!? Polonius, he stared straight at me after he slit Linus’s throat, and his eyes were glowing purple.  So, I do what any brave Venatori does.  I fucking booted it.  I’m ripping off my Venatori gear  while I’m sprinting away, and I’m not sure what deity was looking out for me, but I managed to get away.  I’m holed up in a shack near the docks right now, ready to take the first boat out of Minrathous.  I don’t even care if it dumps me in Par Vollen.  I’m quitting this whole Venatori business.  And if you’re as smart as me, you’d do the same.

Because even if Rook is a dumb warrior brute, she’s got the most terrifying bunch of people that will do anything to protect her.

-Silas

(Letter was found on the docks, beside a body that was frozen solid.)