#sorry for moping on the dash

[sebsxphia]

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Walter’s presence grows routine, even if it still feels peculiar. Before, you saw him now and again when he dropped in to see your dad. He never seemed very social and that sense hasn’t changed. He comes, does his work, and politely accepts his dinner.

That day, a week since your father’s homecoming, you’re due to drive into town. You need to stop by the pharmacy for your mom and pick up a few staples from the grocer. You’re excited to get out, to distance yourself just for an hour or two from the sombre farmhouse.

You grab your purse, a wicker bag with a ribbon tied on the handle, and put a hat on to block out the beaming sunlight. The birds tweet in greeting as you fold your mother’s list into your pocket and head for the garage. The door is open already. Timothy always forgets to close it.

You jingle the keys and climb up into the old truck. You don’t drive it often, mostly traveling to town with your parents or brother. You prefer to walk most places, even if it is a bit far.

You put your bag on the passenger seat and turn the keys in the ignition. The engine putters then a loud bag makes you yelp. A plume of black smoke erupts from the slits on the hood of the truck and a rackety clunking churns in the motor. You let go of the key as you sit dumbfounded and watch the cloud grow.

You hear footsteps and suddenly the driver’s door swings open. You’re pulled out before you can react, put onto your feet and ushered back into the spring hue. You cough as you get a mouthful of smoke and turn to face the garage, Walter’s hand lingering on your back.

“Timothy,” he growls before he marches forward, “told that kid he was gonna start a fire.”

“I…”

“What’s going on?” Your brother dashes up as if he heard his name, “woah, holy cow.”

“What did you do?” Walter accuses.

“What? I fixed it,” Timothy shrugs.

“Damnit,” Walter growls and paces back and forth. “You’re lucky it didn’t catch fire,” he turns on your brother, “you’re lucky your sister didn’t get hurt.”

“Huh? What?” Timothy shakes his head, “I didn’t–”

“She was in there,” Walter’s voice rises tremulously.

“I’m okay,” you pipe up, “it’s fine, I just… can you fix it?”

Walter stops and faces you. His brow twitches in anger and he crosses his thick arms. He peeks over his shoulder then back at you.

“Not any time soon.”

“I can fix it.”

“Don’t touch it,” Walter snarls, “you leave better off alone.”

“Jeez, dad, calm down,” Timothy snipes dryly. He gets a dark glare in return and flinches visibly, “sorry, I–”

“Shouldn’t be joking about that,” Walter girds and pivots his attention back to you, “where were you going?”

“Just to town. I was gonna get some stuff from the store,” you explain.

“I’ll drive you,” Walter insists.

“Oh, uh, that’s fine. I can call Mr. Howland–”

“Don’t bother,” Walter waves you off, “running low on manure around here.”

“Oh,” you chew your lip, “right. Well, thanks, I’ll just grab my purse–”

You take a step towards the garage and Walter quickly blocks your path, “I’ll get it. You shouldn’t breathe that stuff in.”

You step back and nod. Walter rolls his shoulders and narrows his eyes at Timothy as he spins, “get back to planting. No time to waste.”

Walter stalks into the thinning smoke and you blink at your brother. He mopes and throws his hands up as he looks at you, “I was just trying to help.”

“I know, Tim,” you say, “better just get it done.”

“God, he’s a grumpy gus, isn’t he,” Timothy rolls his eyes, “sorry, sis.”

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “just go.”

“Hey,” he stops himself before he goes, “can you grab me smokes?”

“No,” Walter answers as he emerges, holding out your purse, “come on, better head out.”

Timothy huffs and tramps away. You take your purse from Walter with a sheepish smile. His anger makes you nervous. You’ve never seen him anything less than stoic. You follow him to his truck, parked just in front of the house and he opens the passenger door ahead of you.

The porch door swings open and shut. Before you can climb up into the truck, you mom rushes out, “everything okay?”

“Just some car troubles,” Walter calls back, “nothing I can’t fix.”

“Right, oh,” she looks over at the wisps escaping the garage, “fire?”

“Just smoke,” Walter returns, “I’m gonna take her to town, I’ll have a proper look when I get back.”

“I can call Vol,” your mother offers.

He grumbles and offers his hand. You let him help you up into the truck, the lift even higher than your dad’s. He waits for you to settle in before he shuts the door.

“All good, Maddie,” he shows his palm, “won’t be long at all.”

“Thank you, Walter,” your mother preens, “you’re too good to us.”

He nods and goes around the front of the truck. He hops in the driver’s seat with no effort at all and shuts the door. He buckles his seat belt, glancing over at you and you do the same. You clutch your purse and swing your feet over the floor.

“You alright?” He asks as he starts the engine and shifts.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Must’ve been scary,” he comments.

“Just a bit of a surprise,” you chirp, “but I’m okay. Er, thanks for… for saving me.”

“Saving you?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, I didn't really know what to do,” you laugh at yourself, “I'd still be sitting there staring like a deer.”

“Hmph,” the noise is close to a chuckle.

“What are we getting in town?” He asks.

“Oh, uh, pharmacy first,” you answer, “then I wanted to see if the market's selling honeydew.”

He hums and backs out. You hold onto the door as the truck rolls over the bumpy ground. It's not what you planned but it's still a break.

[hornyforherbert]

Hi, sorry I was the anon that said #59 with Justin it autocorrected, I meant to say #50

You Came Over Just To See My Cat? ✧ (Justin Herbert)

Prompt 50. “You came over just to see my cat?”

CW: Fluff, Kissing

WC: 2047

A/N: didn’t mean for this to get so long i got a little carried away, i hope you enjoy!

It had been a long day at work, filled with endless meetings and tight deadlines. As I finally stepped through the door of my small apartment, all I wanted was to unwind and relax. But then, out of nowhere, a thought struck me - I missed Nova, Justin's adorable Bengal cat. Without another moment’s hesitation, I grabbed my keys and headed straight to Justin’s house.

I knocked on his door and waited for a response. After a few moments of me standing there, the door swung open, revealing Justin standing there with a quizzical expression on his face. "Y/N, what are you doing here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I came over to see your cat," I replied with a mischievous grin. Justin chuckled. "You came over just to see my cat?" “Of course i did! Look at her," I said, gesturing towards Nova who had just appeared at the door, rubbing against my legs.

"She does seem pretty smitten with you," Justin remarked, a hint of mock jealousy in his tone. "I told you she likes me more," I said triumphantly, scooping up Nova into my arms and giving her a few affectionate scratches behind her ears.

"I can't argue with that," Justin conceded, stepping aside to let me in. "Come on in. I think she's been moping around the house ever since you last visited."

The warmth of Justin's home enveloped me as I stepped inside. Nova immediately made herself comfortable on my lap, purring contentedly. Justin led me to the living room, where we settled onto the couch and caught up on each other's lives. "So, how's work?" Justin asked, leaning back against the cushions. "Oh, you know, the usual chaos," I replied with a wry smile. "But enough about that. Tell me about your latest football adventures."

Justin launched into a series of hilarious anecdotes about his teammates and the ups and downs of the season. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he recounted the thrilling victories and the nail-biting matches. Time seemed to fly by as we laughed and chatted, with Nova nestled between us, occasionally swatting at Justin's fingers playfully. It was moments like these that made me grateful for our friendship and the easy camaraderie we shared.

Out of nowhere, Nova jumped off my lap and dashed out of the room, her tail held high. Justin and I exchanged a puzzled glance before we heard a loud meow, coming from the kitchen. "What the hell?" Justin muttered, getting up from the couch with me following close behind. We found Nova perched on the counter, batting at a vase that teetered precariously on the edge. "Nova, no!" I exclaimed, rushing over to scoop her up before disaster struck. She wriggled in my arms, protesting against being removed from her newfound plaything. "I swear, she's more trouble than she's worth sometimes," Justin said with a chuckle, shaking his head. "Oh, hush, you love her and you know it," I teased, giving Nova a gentle scolding before setting her back on the floor.

As I turned around, I caught Justin watching me with a soft look in his eyes. It was a look I had seen countless times before, but this time it lingered, making my heart flutter inexplicably. "What?" I asked, feeling slightly self-conscious under his gaze. "Nothing," Justin said with a small smile. "It's just nice to have you here." "I wouldn't miss it for the world," I replied, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I mentally kicked myself for the slip, but Justin's smile only widened.

We returned to the living room and settled back onto the couch, the comfortable silence wrapping around us like a warm blanket. Outside, the sky darkened and the first stars began to twinkle into view.

"Remember that time we went stargazing?" Justin suddenly said, breaking the quiet. “How could I forget?" I laughed, the memory coming back in a rush. "We ended up getting lost on our way back, and you were convinced we were going to stumble upon Bigfoot." Justin chuckled. "In my defense, it was dark, and the woods were pretty spooky.” “sure, blame it on the spooky woods," I teased, nudging his shoulder playfully. Our laughter filled the room, light and carefree. It was moments like these that made the world seem a little brighter, a little kinder.

As the evening deepened, Justin fetched a few snacks from the kitchen, and we indulged in a mini feast, trading stories and inside jokes. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, shattering the cozy atmosphere that had settled over us. Justin frowned, glancing at the clock. "Who could that be at this hour?" “I'll go check," Justin said, getting up from the couch. Standing on the doorstep was one of Justin's teammates, Keenan, looking a little out of breath.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, man, but the coach needs to discuss the game plan with you. It's urgent," he said, between breaths. Justin's expression turned serious. "Alright, I'll head out now." "I can wait for you to get back," I said, reaching for my coat. Justin shook his head. "No, it'll probably take a while. You can head home. I'll see you tomorrow?" "Yeah, of course," I replied, attempting to hide the disappointment in my voice. "Good luck with the meeting."

Justin walked me to the door, giving me a quick but sincere hug. "Thanks for coming over. Nova always brightens up when you're around." "Any time," I said, managing to put on a small smile. "Take care, okay?" With a final wave, I stepped out into the chilly night and made my way back to my apartment.

But no matter how much I tried to shake it off, a sense of unease lingered in the pit of my stomach. The next day, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was bothering Justin. He seemed distracted and preoccupied during our conversations, and even Nova's antics failed to bring his usual cheerfulness back.

"Is everything alright?" I ventured, as we sat in the cozy comfort of his living room. Justin hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words. "I'm just really anxious about the upcoming game. It's a crucial match, and I can't afford any slip-ups." "I understand," I said, reaching out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You've got this, and I'll be there cheering you on the entire time." Justin gave me a grateful smile, and for a moment, the heaviness in his eyes lifted.

As the days passed, Justin threw himself into rigorous training, leaving little time for anything else. I tried to be there for him as much as I could, providing encouragement and a listening ear whenever he needed it. Finally, the day of the game arrived, and the stadium buzzed with anticipation. I sat in the stands, my heart pounding with nervous energy as I watched Justin lead his team onto the field. The game was intense, with both teams locked in a fierce battle for victory. Every touchdown, every interception sent the crowd into a frenzy, and I could feel the tension mounting with each passing minute. In the final moments of the game, Justin found himself with the ball in his hands, the fate of the match resting on his shoulders. The air crackled with expectation as he surveyed the field, searching for an opening.

Luckily, he spotted an opportunity, and with a determined gleam in his eyes, he launched into action. The stadium erupted into cheers as he flew across the field, dodging defenders with effortless grace. And then, with a powerful throw, the ball soared through the air, landing squarely in the waiting hands of his teammate, who sprinted towards the end zone, securing the winning touchdown.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as the final whistle blew, signaling the chargers victory. On the field, Justin was embraced by his teammates, his face beaming with joy and relief. As the crowd began to disperse, I made my way down to the field, eager to congratulate Justin on the hard-earned win.

He spotted me from a distance and made his way through the throng of well-wishers, a radiant smile lighting up his features. "Y/N, I can't believe we did it!" Justin exclaimed, enveloping me in a bear hug. "You were amazing out there," I said, pulling back to look at his beaming face. "It's all thanks to your support," Justin said earnestly. "I couldn't have done it without you by my side." I laughed, feeling a spark of pride. "I told you I'd be there cheering you on. I'm just glad it all paid off."

As we made our way out of the stadium, the air was alive with jubilant energy. Justin's teammates clapped him on the back and offered their congratulations, and I couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for the camaraderie that bound them together. We headed back to Justin's house, where a small celebration was underway.

His teammates and a few close friends had gathered to toast their victory, and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air. Nova weaved her way through the crowd, basking in the attention and occasional ear scratch from the guests. Justin and I found ourselves caught up in the revelry, exchanging stories and reliving the most thrilling moments of the game. As the evening wore on, the guests began to filter out, leaving only a few close friends behind.

Justin and I found ourselves in the quiet of the living room, the remnants of the celebration scattered around us. “I can't thank you enough for being here today," Justin said, his expression earnest. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything," I replied, giving his shoulder a friendly nudge. "You're my lucky charm, you know that?" Justin said, a twinkle in his eye. "I think I need you at all my games from now on." I laughed. "Well, if it means witnessing more victories like today, then I'm definitely up for the challenge."

Justin leaned back against the couch, a thoughtful look flitting across his features. "I've been meaning to ask you something." “What is it?" I ventured, suddenly feeling a flutter of nerves in my stomach. "Well, with everything that's been happening, I've been doing a lot of thinking," Justin began, his gaze fixed on mine. "Thinking about what?" I prompted, my heart pounding in my chest. "About us," Justin said, his voice steady.

"I know I've been caught up in football and everything, but I've realized that having you by my side makes everything better. You're my best friend, Y/N, and so much more." I felt my breath catch in my throat, my mind reeling with the weight of his words. "Justin, what are you saying?" "I'm saying that I love you, Y/N," Justin said, his eyes searching mine. "I want to be more than just friends. I want to be with you, if you'll have me." My heart swelled with a mix of joy and disbelief. I had never dared to hope for more, but here was Justin, laying his feelings bare before me. "I love you too, Justin," I whispered, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "I've always loved you." And then, without another word, Justin leaned in and pressed his lips to mine in a gentle, tender kiss. It felt like the world around us faded away, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the promise of a future together.

From that day on, Justin and I went through the ups and downs of life together, hand in hand. Our love only grew stronger with each passing day, and Nova remained a steadfast presence, ensuring that our days were filled with laughter, joy, and the kind of love that lasts a lifetime. And as I looked back on the events that had brought us to this moment, I couldn't help but feel gratitude for a certain Bengal cat who had unwittingly played matchmaker, bringing Justin and me together in the most unexpected way imaginable. As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Justin, Nova, and I found ourselves woven into the tapestry of each other’s lives, and i wouldn’t want it any other way.

I hope you enjoyed reading! Thank you to the anon who requested this. (I had a draft for this but it disappeared so I had to rewrite it, sorry for the delay!)

You do NOT have permission to repost (reblogs are good) or copy my work.

[gabessquishytum]

This is gonna end up weird, long, and oddly smutty.

Have you ever watched the live action Cinderella? You know that scene in the garden swing where the Prince is slipping on the glass slipper on Cinderella's foot? That scene oddly read as raunchy to me. I was half expecting him to slip under her skirts and eat her out reverently.

Anyways, DREAMLING Cinderella AU where Hob sneaks into the ball with the help of his fairy godmother, Jo, who tells him to quit moping and ship up. "Chin up and tits out, Gadling. Just be back by midnight."

Of course he catches the attention of the dashing goth Prince Dream and he whisks away Hob to the secret garden in the palace.

One thing leads to another, and Dream does end up slipping under Hob's skirts and eating him out reverently right on the swing. Like a hot summer peach soaked in honey. With Hob clutching at Dream's hair as Dream's tongue does the most unspeakable things.

When the clock strikes 12, Hob's pretty dress is already rags because Dream ripped them off and turned them into pretty tatters.

Hob almost doesn't hear the clock chimes since he's too busy riding Dream. Fucking himself on the best cock he's ever had til he could swear he can feel Dream up his throat.

But Hob does hear immediately climbs off and makes a mad dash for the clothes on grass while Dream is bewildered, confused, and wondering if this is a weird sex game Hob is into. Then Hob makes a mad dash for it, laughing maniacally as he says his goodbyes while trying to wiggle his way into Dream's trousers.

Mervyn then sees Dream, naked as a jaybird, run after some dude while said dude is laughing like a nut. "Ran like a fucking idiot, Loosh. You should have seen it."

Of course, said idiot becomes prince consort after Dream searching for him for months.

Sorry for the long type. I needed to get it out of my system.

Oh this is very VERY hot. I always wanna talk about Hob in a dress.

Does Dream go looking for Hob in the traditional "glass slipper" way? Or does he go through the kingdom, searching for a man whose pretty hole fits perfectly around his cock like no other? Or is Dream just like,,, not faceblind so he actually recognises Hob when he sees him again, even though he's just a lowly stablehand instead of a beautiful man in a beautiful dress.

Either way, Dream whisks Hob right off to the palace, and takes him straight to the royal dressmaker to have him fitted for a beautiful new gown to celebrate their engagement. Its even more beautiful than the one that Dream ripped off him that night at the ball! Dream lasts approximately half an hour before he ducks under Hob’s skirts all over again, and reacquaints himself with that beautiful body.

They celebrate the night of their marriage with another gorgeous celebratory ball. And if anyone happens to see the prince and his comsort streaking through the palace gardens, laughing like idiots, well its basically a tradition now right? It definitely is a weird sex game now. But Hob looks so pretty in all his new dresses, no one can blame Dream for chasing him <3

[maknaeswrld]

love is worth the wait | l.mh

wc: 2.4k

genre: best friends to strangers(?) to lovers; idiots to lovers

cw: angst; depression/mentions of having depression; ✨miscommunication✨; roomies are based off my irls and Jun isn’t based off anyone specific; roomies are trying their best; fluff!!; please let me know if I missed anything

part one: when you loved me

You stayed in bed for much longer than you would have liked to admit. Depression had never really been something you struggled with, but it seemed to be the week for new emotions so why not sprinkle in some other things too? 

You knew your roommates were ridiculously worried about you, you’d be worried too if any of them just randomly shut down one day over a boy. But between the depression naps and sad cereals and binging romcoms, you knew step by step you’d pick yourself up again.

Part of you wished you could go back to believing you never had been and never would fall in love, but you also knew now that it was bound to happen eventually. Some people don’t fall in love, and that's okay, but no matter how much you fought it, you weren’t one of those people.

Your co-workers at work knew something was wrong. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, your sluggish movements and the dreadful bags under your eyes gave you away. 

You were heartbroken. You never thought you’d be one of those girls from high school that learned love and heartbreak in the blink of an eye at the hands of Lee Minho, yet here you were, years later, doing just that.

Jun had tried to reach out to you a few times, but as much as you cared for your friend, you didn’t want the painful reminders of Minho that he always brought with just his presence alone. 

You stopped everything Stray Kids related. You couldn’t bring yourself to listen to their music, you turned off their youtube notifications, you’d even taken down your photocards and hid away your Leebit Skzoo. Your life was missing a large part of it without your unwavering devotion to keeping up with the band. 

You didn’t want to see him and be reminded of your years of stupidity, or even worse, see him with that girl. Learning you’re in love with someone by seeing them happy with another person isn’t exactly the best way to go about figuring things out, and you knew it’d tear you apart to see him laughing because of her again. 

You assumed she was his girlfriend, there had been rumors floating around for months that he was seeing someone.

You came to the conclusion that you didn’t want to ruin anything for him just because it took you this long to realize his childhood crush on you.

All you wanted was to go home and take a nice long shower and maybe a nap. You had a three day weekend and you were planning to milk every second of sleep and relaxation and moping you could out of it, but when you walked into your house, you heard a voice you dreaded laughing in the kitchen with your roommates. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised to find Jun in your apartment, he and Lia had been best friends since diapers so of course they still spent time together, but that didn’t make you any happier to see him. 

You tried to tiptoe past the kitchen doorway so you could make a mad dash to your bedroom without having to talk to Jun or any of your roommates, but you didn’t succeed. 

“Oh, Y/n! Look, Jun came to see you. Have you really been ignoring his texts and calls because you’re moping about Lee Minho?” 

Sometimes you had to really stop and ask yourself if Lia was your roommate and best friend or your mother. 

“In my defense, I’ve been ignoring everyone.” She shoots you a sharp look and you slump. “I’m sorry. I just thought it’d be too painful to talk to you when pretty much all of our memories together include him.” 

Jun’s eyes were soft and understanding as he took in your appearance. 

“Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll fix up something to eat? You look like you could use a home cooked meal.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Jun,”

“I want to, and it’s no worry at all.” He gave you a kind smile and gently started pushing you in the direction of your bathroom. “Go on, take as much time as you need.”

You wanted to argue but your stomach growled and your muscles ached, so you gave in and grabbed a change of clothes and your dance team jacket from your room before starting up the water in your bathroom.

A hot shower was definitely what you needed, the warmth soothed you all over and you felt yourself truly relax for the first time in weeks. You ran the water until it was cold before finally getting out and getting dressed. Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, the aroma of a fresh, home cooked meal flooded your senses and your stomach growled. 

You slowly made your way back down the hall toward the kitchen. You hesitated to enter when you heard talking.

“He should be here any minute.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Jun? I mean, she’s trying to get over him.” 

“Trust me on this one, will ya? You didn’t have to sit through two years of high school with them and then deal with Minho ever since.” 

“That’s fair. Eve, hun, you met Y/n in university so you didn’t get a front row seat to the full extent of the no relationships thing. That girl and Min, they were such a disaster in high school.” Lia rolled her eyes. 

Before you could really stop to think about what they were saying, there was a knock at your door. You peered into your kitchen to see that they were all too busy talking to have heard it so you made your way to the door yourself.

You didn’t bother to check who it was, swinging the door open with zero hesitation and freezing immediately upon the sight in front of you. 

Lee Minho was standing outside your apartment with a sheepish grin and an oreo mcflurry.

You blinked at him twice and then shut the door.

Slowly turning on your heel, you see Eve, Lia, and Jun had finally noticed and were watching from the kitchen. You weren’t sure if you wanted to hug them or smack them.

“Hey! Don’t be rude, you can’t just slam the door in peoples faces!” Eve scolded.

Jun covered her mouth with his hand, not even flinching when she immediately licked it. “Open the door, Y/n. Trust me.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned back around and opened the door again, this time seeing a dejected Minho.

“Hi.” 

You weren’t really sure what else to say. It had been so long since you last interacted with him that you felt like that scared new girl looking for a sports credit all over again.

“Hey.” it was a lot more nervous than you were used to.

He seemed to be in a trance, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Raising a brow at him, you held the door open a little wider. 

“You gonna come in or what?” His eyes sparkled as he smiled and walked into your apartment. He looked around, not really sure what to do, and then he looked at you again, but this time he really looked at you.

“You’re wearing the jacket.” He whispered in shock.

You blushed and pulled it closer into yourself. “Yeah. I uh, I wear it a lot.” 

You crossed your arms self consciously and dropped your gaze to the floor. 

The hand holding the mcflurry came into view, and you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I used to bring you these all the time, don’t you remember?”

You smiled slightly. “Of course I do. Thanks.”

Taking the mcflurry, you shyly brushed by him and headed for the kitchen.

“So, Minho, what are you doing here?” You tried to sound nonchalant, but you knew he knew you better than that, even if you hadn’t seen each other since high school.

He took a deep breath and gently grabbed your arm, pulling you toward him.

“I came for you. I wanted to talk to you before the show the other week but by the time I got out the door you left through, you were gone. I didn’t know you could walk that fast, especially without tripping.” He laughed shyly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was kinda sad you left without so much as a hello, but Jun said he could get in touch with you so I wasn’t too worried, but then you never picked up. If I did something to upset you, I’m really sorry.”

Your heart melted for him, and you looked at your shoes, suddenly feeling very guilty.

“Sorry about that. I’ve kind of just been going through a lot lately.”

He nodded understandingly and didn’t push it. 

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed you by your shoulders and made you look into his eyes.

“Did you find the note?”

You were nodding before you could stop yourself, you had never been able to lie to Lee Minho.

“I found it the day after I ran out.”

His face shifted from nervous to disappointed. “Is that why you stopped coming to my events?”

You froze, taken aback.

He knew you were there?

“If it makes you feel any better, I wrote that in high school, ya know? I thought when you found it, we’d still be by each other's sides. I’m sorry if it freaked you out. I’d take it all back if it meant you go back to attending my events” 

His words registered in your head faster than the sentiment behind them did and tears welled up in your eyes. You heard him curse and ask what was wrong, but you were lost in your thoughts.

You were so happy to hear he noticed you, he knew you were at his events and he noticed when you stopped coming, but then he told you he wishes he never wrote the letter that made you realize everything in the first place. It was all too much to handle in your fragile state. 

He gently cupped your cheeks and wiped away your tears. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” 

You stared up into his gorgeous brown eyes and wished you could stay drowning in them forever.

You had to distance yourself. He regretted the letter, he has a girlfriend, he only saw you as a friend.

Shoving him away from you, your heart ached at the gap between you and the sudden loss of contact.

“Why are you here?” You hated that your voice cracked, that your emotions were so close to the surface. 

“What do you mean, Y/n/n, I’m-”

“Don't call me that! Please, don’t call me that.”

It was taking everything in you not to run and lock yourself in your room. His presence was too much for you to handle. 

He just scoffed, brows furrowed. “Well then what do you want me to call you? Y/l/n?”

“Why are you here, Lee?” You asked again, your voice steadier than you expected this time.

He scoffed, his agitation almost palpable as he rolled his eyes. “I’m here because the girl I’ve been in love with since first year ran off when we finally could have reunited. I’m here because some part of me was hoping that maybe you finally realized how you felt.

“I spent every single day of my professional career trying to perform my best because I knew you’d be watching. I kept hoping that one day you’d come down from your seat in the stands after a show and hug me. I naively hoped I meant something, anything, to you.

“I’ve spent years waiting for a text or a call, anything that would prove to me that you missed me as much as I missed you, but I figured you’d finally had your dream life, and there wasn’t any place left in it for your fuckboy best friend from high school.

“I’m here because Jun said you haven’t been doing well lately and I figured the best medicine to cheer you up is an oreo mcflurry. I thought I could see you again, and we could talk, and I could finally have my Y/n back. But instead, I just learned that all those years of watching my performances didn’t mean what I’d hoped they did because the second you learned the truth, you left me behind.”

There were tears in his eyes now. He respected the distance you’d placed between the two of you, but you wished he wouldn’t.

You tried to process what he was saying, what it meant.

“That’s not true.” You whispered. His eyes were watery, proof of how hurt he felt, yet he refused to look away from you. “That’s not true at all. The letter didn’t scare me away, in fact it did the opposite. It made me realize I was always in love with you. I never wanted to admit it because I was scared, but there’s never been anyone else I’ve ever wanted to be with more than I want to be with you.

“I’m exactly what I never wanted to be. I’d give up everything to be with you. But I’d also give you up if it meant your happiness, and I didn’t want to be the girl to ruin your relationship because I was a few many years too late. I was just trying to let you go, Min. I needed to be apart from you in order to accept the truth of my situation.”

The room was quiet for only a few moments, you could see the gears turning in his head as he put together what you had said. 

“You love me?” His voice broke, as if the weight of the world had just lifted from his shoulders. “Wait, hold on, you think I have a girlfriend? And that's why you stopped coming to my events?”

“I saw the way you laughed with her, Min. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh that genuinely.”

He was thinking now, trying to remember. You could see when it clicked and he started laughing. 

“You saw me with Nari. Y/n, Nari is my cousin, we’re both only children so we’ve always been close, like siblings. She was in town to visit for her birthday.”

You blinked emotionlessly as you thought about it. How could you have been so stupid? A blush spread furiously and you hid your face in your hands. You were beyond embarrassed and wishing for the floor to open up and swallow you whole right about now. 

Minho gently pried your hands away from your face, a lovely smile gracing his lips.

“I only ever loved you, Y/n.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading my silly little story, reblogs/comments are a great way to interact and always appreciated🫶

Alternate Ending: heartbreak is a part of life

[burntheupholstery]

lay this broken-bellied me to rest

for @n7month , prompt: tradition

[read on AO3]

Every so often when he's feeling really bad he makes Joker fly them to the crash site, and then he goes out - alone, it’s very important that he go alone - and looks at the ship that used to contain his life and now sits in the snow like a particularly ham-handed metaphor. Then he sits in the snow, by the wreckage, to keep his old life company.

This usually makes him feel better. Shepard's sure the whole ship knows he's out here to mope - there's not a lot of privacy to be had, ship-side, even on a vessel twice the size, and Joker has to fly everyone; if Shepard could come alone he would. Shepard also would've been alright with shutting himself up in his loft with a bottle of the strong stuff the way he's seen old squadmates in the N7 do it, a lifetime and a half ago, but the time he tried that he got so blindingly drunk - courtesy of Kaidan's photo on his crappy desk, he could not understand what it was doing there, really, what the fuck was the Illusive Man thinking, to put it there? to taunt him? to haunt him?

Times when he's feeling that way, Shepard wants to scream until his throat bleeds, but there's nowhere he can do that on the ship and he's not about to do it planetside, he's not suicidal. The next best thing has been to stand right on the ledge behind the broken chassis of his life and watch the wind do the screaming for him, and the howling, and the dashing oneself upon rocks. This makes him feel better, too.

It’s very melodramatic. But he’ll take whatever works.

So. That time in the loft. The next day, he was completely intolerable to be around, wasted the entire day and bit people’s heads off for no good reason. After that debacle he made the executive decision to never, ever mope on board the Normandy ever again.

Joker never says anything to him when he returns to the Normandy, except the one time, and Chakwas tried, but she has no leg to stand on, since Shepard never brings any booze with him. Garrus and Tali know better than to comment.

Miranda used to. Chastise him, that is. And Shepard spent the better part of a long time holding in his resentment, knowing that it was really directed at himself, knowing that the things Miranda was saying had weight — it was wasted fuel, wasted time, mount a monument if he liked that place so much — but after Horizon, his control slipped, and out came the flayed-open truth: he should’ve been with that wreck, he should’ve been that wreck, and like a child he’d said i want to be dead.

She left him to it after that, and although Shepard felt bad to spit on all her efforts like that (which was what he did, and he’s a little sorry) he never apologized. Miranda and Cerberus might feel like they’ve given him a second chance, but right now it doesn’t feel like a second of anything, except maybe hell.

He knows these trips are wasteful. He knows they’re on a tight schedule. He makes Joker go anyway, because without these trips he’d stop being able to think, let alone fight for the future of humanity.

It was worst after Horizon. It was the only time Joker radioed him on the ground, because Shepard had stayed out in the frozen wreckage of SSV Normandy so long that Joker (covering for it by citing EDI) got worried about him. Wondered if he found a way to fool the life signs, perhaps, and had actually thrown himself off that ledge he liked to stand on.

Now, Shepard does what feels like one last tour of the old Normandy. When he returns to the other one— he keeps thinking of it as the fake one, but ‘fake’ feels disingenuous, somehow; if the Normandy SR-2 is the fake Normandy, is he the fake Shepard? Under what circumstances does fake equate new? It doesn’t feel right, to look at the broken body of the Normandy and realize there isn’t a broken body of his own to poke at, when Cerberus rebuilt both of them.

When he returns to the Normandy SR-2, they'll set off for the Omega 4 relay. Today, this, this is him paying his private respects to the sad little tradition he made up for himself through sheer depression.

After this, he might not see the Normandy again, any Normandy. He might not see Kaidan again. He might not be, again. There will be no after, maybe.

He's inclined towards pessimism today.

So he tours the crashed ship. Walks the broken structure. Does the phantom rounds. Tries not to imagine Joker watching his position like a nervous hawk; has a private laugh at the thought that the Cerberus crew must be thinking: is this the day the commander loses it?

He's not. He's just saying good-bye. He never got to, the first time.

Whatever happens, he should at least get to say good-bye.

[planetpiastri]

💝+ a kiss on the cheek that turns into a kiss on the lips from the a hundred different kisses with bob?🤍

im a big dumby and have had this sitting half-written in my drafts for like a week!! anyways i think this is so sweet and so cute and i hope u enjoy<3 | [wc - 0.8k]

The night air was cold, but you hardly noticed. Bob was warm, and as you hooked your arm through his and intertwined your fingers, heat flared through you, fighting off the chill of the evening.

While tonight might have only been your third date, it felt like you’d been together for ages now. Things had progressed naturally and gradually with Bob, and in the six months since you’d met him, you’d never stopped getting butterflies when he so much as brushed his hand against yours. You could hardly believe he seemed to feel the same for you that you felt for him.

There was just one problem: he hadn’t kissed you yet.

You didn’t mind taking things slow with Bob. In fact, you thought it was pretty sweet. On your first date he had told you earnestly, “I want it to be special,” and you trusted him. With other guys you might have worried that there was some other reason they were holding back, but with Bob you didn’t have to worry about those silly insecurities. It was nice, and it was refreshing.

But you also really, really wanted to kiss him.

Actually, strike that—you really, really, really wanted him to kiss you. 

All these thoughts and more raced through your mind as you left the mini golf course and began to cross the parking lot back to Bob’s car, and you were still lost in thought as he pulled out and merged onto the highway back towards home.

He turned on the radio and reached over, lacing your fingers together, and you smiled. It pulled you back into the present moment, and you were alarmed by how much you liked this man. But then his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you were right back to that same train of thought as before.

When he pulled up outside your apartment, he turned the radio down and said, “I know you have an early morning tomorrow. I had a lot of fun tonight, though.”

“Hm,” you said, distracted.

He squeezed your hand, his smile nervous and curious. “You okay? You’ve seemed a world away since you beat me at mini golf.”

What were you doing? You were in a car with a beautiful boy who cared deeply about you—so deeply about you that he wanted you to have the perfect rom-com moment you’d dreamed of since you were a little kid. And here you were, moping about it.

You squeezed his hand back and smiled reassuringly. “Sorry. Just thinking about tomorrow. I’m sorry I have to go so early, but I’d love to see you this weekend.”

His eyes crinkled when he smiled. You loved that about him. “I’d really like that.”

“Okay. Okay, bye, Bob.” You squeezed his hand again—god, you wanted to kiss him so bad—before opening your passenger door and getting out. You paused there on the sidewalk for a moment.

Oh, what the hell?

You dashed around the hood of Bob’s car, stopping at his driver’s side door and gesturing for him to roll the window down. When he did, you said, “Sorry. I just—I had a lot of fun tonight. I wanted to say thank you.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.”

And his tongue darted out to wet his lips again.

If he was going to do it, now was the moment. You met his eyes, feeling drawn deeply into them. His fingers fidgeted on the steering wheel. Goosebumps prickled your legs.

And he didn’t kiss you.

With a sigh, you reached out to gently cup his cheek. You orchestrated every moment, hoping and praying that you weren’t about to find out that he actually was holding back for those other reasons. But his cheek was warm, and he leaned into your touch as you tipped through the window and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

The words ‘Bye, Bob’ died on your lips as his hand came up to cup your jaw, and as you began to pull away again, he turned his head and captured your mouth with his.

It was fireworks; it was a roller coaster; it was the beach at sunset; it was a run through an airport; it was the special moment you had both been waiting for. It was quite possibly the best kiss ever recorded in history.

He pulled away with a soft gasp and breathed, “I couldn’t wait any more.”

In reply, you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and kissed him again. He made a soft, happy sound in the back of his throat, drawing a smile onto your face even as your mouth moved against his.

You pulled away, pressing another quick kiss to his cheek before withdrawing from the window, glad to see your own unshakable smile mirrored on his face. Now, finally, you said, “Bye, Bob.”

“Good night,” he whispered.

You forced yourself not to look over your shoulder as you walked up to your apartment, turned the key in the lock, and slipped inside. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pressed your back against the closed front door, letting your eyes fall shut blissfully.

Okay, so maybe three dates was the perfect amount of time to wait for a first kiss.

[seriouslysam8]

April Prompt #12: Argue for @hinnymicrofic

Ginny stared at Harry lying on the sofa moping. A long sigh escaped his lips as he pushed his glasses up and scrubbed his eyes. He hadn’t moved since he arrived home from work. Nor had he said more than five words to her.

Crossing the room, Ginny picked up his legs just enough so she could slide under them before plopping them on her lap. She rubbed his calf, her gaze focused on his face.

“Rough day at work?” Ginny asked.

Harry snorted. “I wish.”

Ginny frowned, leaning her body over so she could touch his cheek with the back of her hand. “Oi, what happened, Harry?”

Harry sighed, his face twisting like he was in pain. This only caused Ginny to become more concerned, her eyes trailing along his body for any injuries but didn’t see anything. Had a mission gone wrong? Had someone died? How could she have let him wallow alone for this long?

“Please, Harry, talk to me,” she pressed, a sense of urgency in her tone.

He swallowed, looking even more miserable. “Ron and I had a huge argument earlier.”

Ginny couldn’t help it. She laughed. Which was the wrong thing to do because Harry’s eyes flashed.

“I’m sorry!” Ginny protested. “I thought someone died with the way you were acting!”

Harry scowled. “This is serious, Gin!”

Ginny schooled her features. “I’m sure you and my brother will work it out. Just like you always do.”

Harry huffed, his gaze focusing on the ceiling. A buzzing sounded. Ginny looked at the end table behind Harry to see her moronic brother’s face in the mirror.

“Ron’s calling you,” Ginny said, a clear I told you so crossing her features.

Harry jumped up like someone had lit a fire under him. He grabbed the mirror and answered it in record time.

“I’m sorry!” they both blurted out at the same time.

“No, I am!” Harry insisted. “This case is so bloody frustrating! I shouldn’t have dismissed your idea so quickly.”

“No, you were right,” Ron said. “It would have been a waste of time.

Ginny shook her head, easing off the sofa.

“Let’s go grab a pint, my treat,” Ron offered.

“I’ll grab the second pint,” Harry added. “Hey, Gin! Gin!”

Ginny turned around, her lips twitching. “Yes?”

“Mind if I go grab a pint with Ron?” he asked, a lopsided grin flitting across his face.

Ginny chuckled. “Have fun.”

Harry and Ron picked a pub before they hung up the mirrors. Harry crossed the room, pecking her on the cheek quick before he dashed out of the front door.

“Boys,” Ginny sighed, a fond smile on her lips.

[tehriel]

eeee yes wonderful!!!

when you get the chance, i have a request for daddy!aether and/or top!swiss/reader, with a dash of praise~

ty!! you’re amazing <33333

Thank you for the request!!

Tags: that good pasta

I am a little on the demi side so hard kinks and especially power play is hard for me to write about but here is a top!swiss the best I can~ you will see the saucy version below and the spicier version on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49764631/chapters/129237049 If anyone else has a request for me~~ I go for scenarios, feelings, vibes, some days I go full ace with no real warning, so yeah give me things I can play with in most moods :3

I hope you enjoy it~

“Whatcha reading, ______?” Swiss slithered into your nook in the ministry library, and the charming bastard reclined on your desk, grinning at you. The library liked dark woods and the scent of paper; the stained glass windows kept you warm as you sunned yourself against Autumn’s early chill.

“I’m studying for my next sermon, but I’m pretty sure you already knew that,” you gave him a sidelong look.

He only grinned wider with too many teeth, as he did when he was about to bring chaos.

Your tail flickered in his direction. He was a handsome shit. He had dark grey blemishless skin and scruffy cheeks, and he wore a half knot of dreads, leaving the rest to frame his chest. He looked like a trickster god. Eyes black peeled and waiting for the next opening to run with. “What do you want, Swiss?”

“Can’t a pack-mate check on his favourite cardinal?”

Not when a certain pack-mate had the glint in his eye that he usually did. “How are you causing upheaval today?”

“Up-upheaval? Me?” He gripped his chest as if wounded.

You arched a brow. Did you really have to explain yourself? He was the loudest of your pack, the most animated when speaking, and always had a story of how he had gotten up to absolutely no good in hell. Known to have stolen from the princes, known to have taken Mammon’s wife in Mammon’s own bed—known for that grin and all it might entail.

“Right, maybe that is on brand, but I promised I’m on my best behaviour,” he showed all ten of his clawed fingers defensively. “I was just wondering if you wanted dinner with me tonight—alright, maybe there is some ‘upheaval’ on my mind—I have procured a large amount of hard liquor, and I’ve been hanging out to watch this movie Sodo said was funny, uh, ‘Velocipastor’.”

“You have to know Sodo has no fucking taste in movies.”

“Hence the alcohol,” he nodded and grinned, “Meal’s on me; I’m cooking.”

“So there will be reapers in my food again?”

“Naw, that was an honest mistake… I thought, ‘It’s the mortal plane, how fucking hot can it be’?”

You grimaced. “I’m sorry, my love, I would and maybe next week… no, it’s gotta be the week after because of ritual Saturday… then there’s…” you shook your head. “Autumn,” you shrugged, “so fucking busy.” You sunk at your desk.

“Ah, I know,” he sighed dramatically. The guy knew how to mope gorgeously. “I’ve missed you in my bed,” he pouted.

He’d be the death of you. “I have learnt that Sodo is very good for venting frustrations out on.”

“I have more than frustration for you, Sweetheart.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” you cracked a smile. 

He grinned right alongside you until it fell, “I didn’t see you at breakfast, ______, you’ve been eating, right?”

“Yeah,” you waved off.

Dark lids fluttered a blunt blink.

“I’m a big ghoul, Swiss.”

“Sometimes a fucking wonder about that,” he muttered and stole a chaste kiss, brushing the rough of his cheek against yours. “I’ll see you later, hm? Don’t stress about the sermon; yours are always the best.”

“Not biased at all?”

“No, it’s true, I fall asleep in the other ones or try to choke myself to death or…”

You chuckled; you’d seen him do that with his guitar strap. “You aren’t choking yourself for death, you fucking monster.”

“Ah, but you know the French, huh? La petite mort?”

You shook your head.

“Perhaps ask Rain,” he winked and sauntered away.

“I love you, Swiss,” you called.

“Right back at you, Sweetheart,” he responded.

You would ask Rain about ‘La petite mort’, passing him in the hallway. The question left him stammering and blushing hard. Ah, Swiss; ever sewing little seeds of chaos in his wake.

***

“Sweetheart?”

You jolted awake from your desk, “Fuck! Papa, sorry… is it time for the ritual? I’ve… I’ve got most of it done—I just need to… to… Ah, Swiss…” your shoulders relaxed. The dread-head ghoul stood in your office with a ceramic bowl in his hand. You peered out the window behind you and rubbed the drool from your face. It was dark; last you checked, it had been five, the day had left you behind, and it was then eight forty. You had to have a desk-shaped imprint on your face. You groaned. You still had a day before the sermon. “Thanks for waking me, hun—was there something you needed?” you blinked at your writing, trying to make sense of the papers on your desks again.

“You weren’t at dinner, ______,” his tone was something you’d never heard from him. Low, on the edge of dangerous. “I haven’t seen you in the dining hall for the past week and a half.”

“I’ve just been busy; I grab from the kitchen… usually… sorry I haven’t been about to see you much, my love.”

“When was the last time you ate?” His voice, again, was dark. 

A sudden chill ran up your arms. “Uh.. we’re ghouls, so it’s not a big deal…”

“_______,” he warned.

 “Yesterday, what’s gotten into you, Swiss?”

Dark eyes narrowed. He wasn’t grinning. He stepped closer and shifted the papers from your desk with a swift sweep of his arm. 

“What the fuck? Swiss,” you growled, standing. 

“Sit.” He snarled in a way that tore through you, placing the bowl where your papers had been.

“Swiss…” You didn’t sit. You stood back, ready to collect your papers from the ground.

The other ghoul was quicker. He shoved you back down in your chair. You hadn’t seen him move like that since the last time the clergy went to holy war years ago. “Eat,” he commanded.

“What the fuck, Swiss?” you hissed up at him.

“I’m not playing here, Sweetheart.”

“And you think I am?” You spat.

“Your research isn’t going anywhere; you can get on your knees and pick them up after. For now, eat.”

Your nose wrinkled in a snarl, but you couldn’t deny you were hungry. The bowl was filled with a Mountain’s worth of pasta. The noodles looked handmade. He’d made it for you. “Fine,” you muttered. “You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

“Evidently I do,” he growled, perched on your desk to watch you.

You studied Swiss for a while; you hadn’t known him to be so dominant. You had no idea what had gotten into him. You supposed you should eat anyway. You approached the food with the fork and messily ate some—ghouls were not known for their table manners. Hell left you with little to no etiquette, as etiquette was for the privileged, minor demons gorged on what they could fucking get. You moaned around a mouthful of pasta. Swiss was getting good with his cooking.

“I know it’s fucking good,” he growled from your side, sitting taller and looking down on you from your desk.

You were suddenly self-conscious about your eating, self-conscious in a way no ghoul generally was. Swiss was watching you. Watching the sauce dribble your chin. Eyes devouring how much you could fit in your mouth and the way you swallowed what he had made for you.

“Uh-Swiss, hun.”

“No speaking, let me enjoy this.”

What the fuck was happening? Was he getting off on you enjoying the food he’d made for you? You gave him an incredulous look.

“I like filling your belly in any way I can, _____,” his voice was gravel, and he was dead serious.

You couldn’t look at him and couldn’t seem to stop eating either. For one, the pasta had the perfect bouncy texture, and the sauce had to be made from scratch. And secondly, your hunger crashed in on you all at once—you had forgotten what it was to be hungry for a moment. Much to Swiss’s approval, you cleaned the bowl.

“Good bean for finishing, ______.”

“I’m sorry, what the fuck?” You scoffed. 

“Don’t pretend me treating you like this doesn’t make you wet, Sweetheart, we’re ghouls—I can smell it on you.”

You frowned. Just as you had forgotten to hunger, you had forgotten to want. Ghouls could barely keep their hands off each other and the clergy, and it had been… at least a month since you had anyone. Oh, shit, he wasn’t wrong. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“Sweetheart…” Swiss began, stepping from the table and gently placing the empty plate on the floorboards and out of his warpath. “You’ve been away from my bed for too long, and you haven’t been looking after yourself—I’m afraid I will have to punish you.”

You scanned over the trickster’s face, and you couldn’t find a joke there. You swallowed. “Swiss?”

“On the desk, facing me. Now.”

[oscurascout]

Bad Sanses Adventures

Got To Catch Them All! (Dust only)

Note - Sorry, I know I said I was going to post every hour until it came to 6 but I underestimated how hard it was for me to walk while also trying to steal candy from my little siblings and cousins. So now I'll post until 12. So yeah hope you guys have an amazing Halloween!

Masterlist

Dust strolled into the cozy animal café, not really caring about his missions. Cats stretched lazily on shelves, and rabbits nibbled at treats. But his peaceful moment was shattered by a flash of fur and a string of loud barks. A hyperactive dog zoomed in circles around the tables, almost knocking over a few coffee cups.

Dust - *sighing* “So much for peace and quiet.”

As he sat down in a corner, he spotted another skeleton, Blue, sitting in another corner, looking sad. Dust turned back to his table, not wanting to get involved, but his gossipy side made him walk over to Blue's table and sit down in front of him.

Blue - *startled* “Oh! Dust! *quickly smiles* What brings you here?”

Dust - *rolling his eyes* “Why are you moping here?”

Blue - “I'm not —” *interrupted*

Dust - “You are.”

Blue stayed quiet for a minute, then looked at Dust again.

Blue - *looking down, playing with his fingers* “Well, Dream and Ink had a bit of a disagreement... Something about ‘not letting the gang do whatever they want’ and ‘but they are doing good in the multiverse’... I don't really know what to think of the matter ... the thing is, I didn't take Ink's side, nor Dream's, but Ink took it worse and got mad. And well Ink walked away ... Me and Dream just ... left too to cool down and think things through.”

Dust - *muttered* “Typical. *speaking normally* Everyone knows Ink doesn't like changes; it's an open secret around the multiverse.”

Blue - “I know, but ... well, all of you ...”

Blue stayed quiet, unsure which side to take or how to proceed with this dilemma. Dust sighed, having gotten his answers but not knowing how to help Blue. He looked somewhere else, his 'eyes' landing on another skeleton.

Dust - “Well, if you want to apologize, Ink is over there.”

Blue quickly looked and saw Ink, or at least someone who looked like Ink.

Blue - *smiling* “That's not Ink; that's Fallen Ink, the other version of Ink.”

Dust - “They're all the same.”

Blue chuckled and stood up, wanting Fallen to join them too. After all, he didn't like how Fallen was all by himself. Fallen Ink sat alone, locked in an intense stare-off with a calm, unfazed cat.

Fallen Ink kept his unblinking focus, his gaze mirroring the cat’s calm detachment. Dust watched as Blue grabbed the cat and Fallen, dragging them both to the table. Fallen and Dust greeted each other with a simple nod while Blue placed the cat in Fallen's lap.

Suddenly, the dog made a wild dash toward the door, barking frantically and accidentally nudging it open, almost like something out of a cartoon. Like a floodgate, every other animal suddenly perked up and darted out after it, streaming into the street in a chaotic flurry of fur and feathers.

Blue - *smiling, quickly standing up* “Come on, guys! Let's go and bring those animals back!”

Dust - *groans* “Why us?”

Blue - *grinning* “Come on! Dust and Fallen! It’s going to be fun!”

Dust shot him an annoyed look, but before he could argue, Blue had already ran out the door, chasing after a pair of rabbits. Fallen and Dust both got up and went after a pair of puppies.

The town quickly came alive with the sounds of scampering paws and flapping wings. Dust found himself sprinting after a trio of mischievous kittens who were weaving through legs, disappearing under tables, and leaping onto ledges.

Dust - *grumbling* “Of all the animals, why do I get the runners?”

Meanwhile, Blue had taken on a different challenge, a turtle who seemed perfectly content to walk at a snail’s pace. He crouched, waving a carrot in front of it.

Blue - *smiling* “Come on, buddy! Just a little further *looks at the carrot* do turtles even like carrots?”

The turtle ignored him, determined to go anywhere but in the direction of the carrot.

Fallen Ink went after some ferrets, he silently picked them up, the ferrets had managed to wriggle under a fence. The ferrets snuggled up to him, and Fallen blinked before starting to pet them as he headed back to the others.

Dust - *panting, walking towards Blue, carrying the kittens* “Having fun with the turtle?”

Blue - *serious* “This guy’s got a mind of his own.”

Fallen Ink approached, holding a couple of calm-looking doves that perched obediently on his arm, while still holding the ferrets in his other arm. He raised an eyebrow at the turtle, then gave it a light nudge with his foot, sending it slowly back toward the café.

Fallen Ink - “Problem solved.”

Blue - *looking at Fallen, shocked* “Hey! Be careful!”

Dust - *eyeing the hyper dog now zooming toward the fountain* “Guys, let's fight the final boss”

The dog was bounding up and down by the fountain’s edge, barking enthusiastically at its reflection. Just as Dust lunged to catch it, the puppy darted away, sending him splashing into the shallow water.

Blue - *worried* “Dust, are you okay?”

Dust - *dripping wet, glares at Blue* “What do you think?”

Dust got out, and they continued the chaotic chase, rounding up animals one by one, dodging startled townsfolk, and narrowly avoiding a vendor’s stand that a group of curious raccoons had somehow climbed onto.

At last, Blue spotted the dog, who was now eagerly chasing a butterfly through a nearby park.

Blue - *yelling for the others* “Guys, I found the dog!”

Dust and Fallen headed towards Blue, but not before putting the animals in a bone cage. Blue looked back at the dog and noticed that it had started to run away again, so he quickly followed after it. Fallen was right behind Dust and Blue, following at a leisurely pace, not really trying to capture the dog. Dust and Blue darted left and right, trying to corral the dog, but every time they got close, it changed direction, leaving them grasping at thin air.

Finally, Fallen Ink crouched low, making a quiet whistle that instantly caught the dog’s attention. The dog trotted over to him, tilting its head in curiosity.

Fallen - *calmly petting the puppy* “Done.”

Dust - *exhausted* “Why didn’t you do that from the start!?”

Blue - *chuckles* “You're good with animals, Fallen.”

The three of them, carrying the animals, made their way back to the café. Dust was still dripping slightly, and Blue was humming happily. Suddenly, the dog started running again. Blue was about to go after it, but Fallen stopped him.

Fallen - “Leave him. We need to first return these animals to the café before going back to chasing the dog.”

Blue nodded, and they all continued walking. Dust sighed, completely worn out. He heard some screaming and turned around. He saw a few people in costumes running away from a haunted house event. Dust sighed again, ignoring the constant screaming, but he did wonder who was making everyone, even the staff, scream in horror.

[luveslasher]

A START OF AN OBSESSION WITH YOU PART 7

[sorry for the very late story! I'm already new to writing and I'm already flooded with work for school lol! but thank you all I have gotten a post of getting 50 likes! Thank you!!!.. I had this finished but my internet had to go off and not save my work 🤦]

After running to door to door.. your legs so sore aching in pain. You almost died! This is it.. you can feel it. Looking through the shelves you find lighter fuel, and a couple of bandages. Throwing the items into your pocket. Feeling so hungry and thirsty... How long has this continued? What if you been stuck in this hell loop for days?!

With many panicked thoughts flooding your mind. You enter the next room not looking at the number of the door, an entity with big bloody eyes and a toothy grin jump scares you. Right when your back was about to hit the ground, you feel your body be held gently to the ground.. what the hell is that thing.. and why does it look like that.. it seems like you entered a fake room.

DUPE

It disappears from your sight, you try to ignore what just happened. Continuing to enter the rooms, you turn around the knob and enter the very silent unusual room.

it's all completely normal so far.. that is until a dark purple entity jumpscared you, teleporting you to a different room. You fall to the ground in shock. The pixelated spirit looks down at you for a moment, your mouth agape sweat falling down your face. The entity disappears, leaving you on the ground... Unharmed? That was definitely different and normal.... Thank God it didn't hurt you like the others have done.

You stand up while stumbling a bit, still continuing on going through the doors. Right when you left the room, the tall dark purple entity GLITCH is behind you, checking you out. He always had been watching you ever since you came in. But unlike the others, he never came to interact to you. Only stalking you, he liked you very much, he hated how the others would get so close to you.

After hearing the others speak about your plan to escape.. he felt sadness inside of him. He didn't want you to leave, SEEK tried to make a deal with him to share you with him and to give information about you to him.

But he never agreed, his hatred towards SEEK only got much more higher after seeing him kiss you, while his hands were at your waist, face to face. Lips an inch apart. His veins were almost bursting, he swore to himself he will protect you.. to not let the others hurt you.. or get any close to you.. he feels so guilty.. he failed to protect you.. disappearing after a while of moping

You enter a short thin hallway this is new. A caged pole door, you see droplets if rain outside. Dashing to the door, you swing it open. A beautiful outside, trees around the place, and bushes.. it looked like a garden! Big yellow windows outside the one building.. this was odd.. this looked like a completely different area! the landscape of this hotel was not like this.. it was confusing. Short fences holding on the long pillars, a beautiful roof with lights around it. Protecting you from the heavy rain..

It seems like it hasn't been a other day.. still night.. it feels like days have passed in this place. A realization hits you like a truck.. these monsters have fallen in a love obsession with you in a day! This is insane.. you run out to the bushes and trees letting the rain fall onto you.

Feeling the cold water splash upon your face and body. Opening your mouth wide, drinking the few droplets of water to fill your thirst closing your mouth after a while.. your hands wide open in a T pose. Tears fall down your face.. finally cold water.. the outside... After going through hell in those hotel rooms, fresh air cold rain..

It felt so much safer here than the other rooms.. you're all alone.. maybe staying here for a bit won't be so bad.

You crouch down to the bushes seeing beautiful berries around the bushes. Without any thoughts you quickly eat them one by one, throwing them into your mouth. A sweet biter tastes on your tongue.. feeling so grateful for the fruit and water, you stand up to search through the trees.

Gorgeous red fresh apples all around hidden in the trees, they all pop out. Quickly grabbing on and taking a bite, the sweetness tingles your taste buds.. these apples tasted way better than normal apples!

Who on earth took care of these fresh berries and apples? Maybe these always have been here... But these fruits seem too fresh and new to be old.. but yet you ignore it, you are so thankful for this. Tears coming out of your eyes, blush on your nose. Feeling so much gratefulness you yell out "Thank you so much!" out of happiness not meaning it to anyone in particular.

But once again... The dark purple pixelated spirit can't help but smile and feel his heart be filled up again. He was glad you loved the fruits he planted. He knew how hungry you were the few doors you were in. So he planted some fruit and making it grow much faster and changing the taste to be much sweeter with his glitches. Not like it would change anything important in the future! It was all for you..

The tall dark purple entity standing behind the trees, observing your every movement, the droplets of water avoiding his body falling off away from him, still dry to the core. Still stalking you, GLITCH waits until the pills in the fruit start to hit.

You slowly bring yourself under the roof of the wooden fence gently laying yourself to the ground.. wrapping your hands around you like a blanket. Your eyelids closing, your mouth closed only leaving a little smile on your face. Breathing quietly and gentle.. taking a little nap won't hurt, you have been awake all these hours trying to survive. Taking a break will definitely help you. Just a few rooms and your free.the sleepiness takes over your body.

Falling into a deep slumber. GLITCH gets closer to you,softening after seeing you lay on the ground sleeping. You're so perfect and sweet,his fingers touch your face..he mumbles a little "sleep well.." with a glitch echoing in his voice.

He promises... He will protect you until you wake up. He won't fail you again!

END OF PART 7

[IM SORRY FOR THE LATE PART!!! My school gave me much more work in a few days and I'm still working on it! But part 8 will be the last until the doors finally has part 2 out! Which may take pretty long so cliffhanger sadly.. but I will be writing one shots and head canons of the door characters and other fanbases as well! Mostly the door entities but still!please tell me if I made any errors!! Im not good with grammar so I apologize:(]

[puella-peanut]

If Alpha Twig got Omega Danny pregnant in high school, do you think they would have stayed together? How would their families react?

Well well...depending on how much I want to be nice or mean to Danny-boy and Terry, the scenarios could vary. Since I have a similar ask for this scenario but that Anon wanted fluff, this one will be on the angsty side (sorry, Danny-boy). Heads up for underage Daniel, Omega-sexism, me making Danny suffer, and super bastard boyfriend psycho Terry (as well as his shitty father). 

.

.

.

—By early February, as soon as his Ma leaves, Daniel spends nearly every morning before school resting his cheek against the cool porcelain toilet in the bathroom he shares with his Ma in their shabby apartment. He turned 15 in December, still looks like 12—he’s just a kid, a pup, a freshman, and now he’s...

Daniel can’t even finish the thought. ('Cause he promised Ma, Madonna bless her, he’d be good here in Omega-friendly California, stay outta trouble. That’s why she allowed him to go to one of these progressive Integrated Schools instead of a mediocre Omega Government-Funded Institution.) And he’d been so happy, so excited—and now he’s in the worst trouble of his life. Daniel’s eyes fill. What on earth is he gonna tell his Ma? What on earth is he gonna tell...

...Terry?

(The ridiculously handsome, popular Alpha who’d graciously invited Daniel to his Christmas party at the fancy loft in upscale LA, a week before Christmas break, and Daniel had innocently gone along, totally flattered that his crush since the very first day of school in August had asked...him! Poor, plain, and little almost-15-year-old Daniel LaRusso! And Terry had been tall and dashing and seductive—giving Daniel all of his undivided attention, and then his first taste of champagne, and a bit later his first kiss. And then real late that very evening his first...well, everything.) 

Daniel had lost a lot that night, more than he knew at the moment, and had woken up alone, and sore, and frightened—and with an aching head in a guest bedroom instead of Terry’s apartment-sized bedroom. A Beta maid had offered him breakfast, but he’d turned the lavish tray down, mortified, and left immediately once he found his clothes neatly folded and freshened up on the vanity’s chair. He hadn’t seen Terry. (He'd...wanted to.)

Ma had been more worried than angry, and had fussed over him when he’d returned with a feeble lie. Luckily he was wearing a turtleneck sweater, so she didn’t see the bruises and bite marks on his neck and shoulder, and the matching hand-shaped bruises on his wrists. And she didn't have a clue about the mouth-shaped-marks on his chest, his inner thighs. Thank the Alpha up above. Anyways, he’d moped over Christmas not feeling himself, and daydreaming about Terry, wishing he would call, and not thinking too much on why he didn’t. 

But after a holiday that was anything but merry, Terry didn’t even spare him a passing glance when school started again on the 3rd. That first day back without a single word or look of acknowledgement from the Alpha had crushed Daniel, deeply, and he’d cried a little in the bathroom after he’d thrown up all his lunch. So he ended up being not only heartbroken, but ill for the new year. Go figure. 

I think in this one, Anon, Terry is a Senior. He’s wealthy, spoiled, and a playboy—he has time to fuck around with many a pretty Omega, but no time to stick around for one. Terry’s going places, you see, he’s a brainy and bookish scholar despite the lecherous side; he has been accepted to several of the Ivy League Alpha-Only universities of Yale, Columbia, Harvard; maybe even to schools abroad like Oxford—he can’t be having a fucking pup now. 

(Why Alpha above, he could’ve shaken the boy as he’d stuttered and stumbled through telling Terry about his...condition in a classroom in a lonely part of the school. Wanted to, badly, when the kid had started crying these great hulking sobs that shook his body, looking so small and delicate and fragile—and giving off such terrified pheromones that it made Terry’s stomach roll with...with he didn’t even know what. He didn’t even respond to the boy’s pitiful pleading, just left him there all crumpled and blotchy on the floor in the too-big red sweater Terry had ripped off him that night in December...only now with endless tears running down his face. But Terry could smell it on him, easy, like Alphas could of the Omegas they’d knotted up. He was reeking of it. Those pregnancy pheromones, his and the kid’s mixed together, tangled up in a knot...)

...He gets his father, the Alpha Silver-senior, to hush this nonsense all up, threaten the kid and his mother if they retaliate (not that Betas, and especially Omegas, had much of a percentage, if any, of winning a lawsuit against an Alpha). And Silver sr. does, because his only child (a strapping boy, an Alpha! How proud is he!) is set to take over the legendary Silver business, and needs to keep the connections, name, and social hierarchy a fancy university will maintain for him—not the shame a penniless, pregnant Omega and bastard puppy will bring. Why, what a pity they outlawed the Breeding Farms a century ago—he’d have that Omega slut banished there instead. He wishes Terrance had been more discreet, true—but then there’s that ridiculous Alpha bragging pride that his son knocked up an untouched 14 year old Omega at, what, only 18? A proper Alpha already! He signs the papers with a flourish, plans out the monthly fee—measured in accordance, of course, if the child comes out an Alpha (wonderful, but doubtful), a Beta (boring), or an Omega (vermin). He chides Terrance with a good laugh over their favorite Irish whiskey and imported Cuban cigars, and doesn’t give the matter a second thought. Margaret will oversee the little monthly problem. Now, back to securing that fantastic deal with that German company...

(Anyway, Anon, Terry did think that Danny-boy had been quite the little darling, probably the prettiest Omega Terry ever saw—but that means nothing, really, since the kid was only good for an (admittedly excellent) fuck, and it had been great fun taking his first time. Oh, he’d seen the way the boy’s big eyes had looked shyly his way after that night when they passed each other in the school corridors between classes they never shared—and he’d paid no heed outside of scoffing once he’d passed. What, did the kid think Terry would date him or something, that they’d be official? That Terry’d give him his varsity jacket, like how Johnny had given his to his Omega girl, Betsy? Did the boy really think Terry would love him? Omegas these days. Ridiculous.)

Father transfers the boy to another school, Omega only, and not that dreadful like most of those were—really, the boy should thank him on bended knee!—so he can have the pup like he wants (why not just terminate the blasted thing?), and complete his education. It’s more than many an Omega usually gets, since the discomfort of unshared Heats, the high-percentage fail rate of suppressants, and the sheer yearning of wanting an Alpha to fuck and mate them make many drop-out young. And they’re pressured anyway, to find an Alpha, and get married off as soon as possible, even as young as 13 if they start their Heats early—something which the Government always turned a blind eye to, even here in progressive California. After all, Omegas don’t need to have brains, just spread their dainty legs and pump out pups. Easy peasy. 

So, Terry feels good about the...situation. Mostly. There’s a niggling sensation there, something that feels like it’s pressing on a bruise that Terry doesn’t even know he has. No matter, it’ll pass. He’ll ring up his Alpha pals, Johnny, Ponytail, and Mikey—it’ll make for an amusing yarn to share over dinner and bourbon (and maybe a couple Omega whores if he can bribe Milos to get them for Pony and Mike, since John got boring once he started mooning over Betsy). 

Terry only just wishes he could get the kid out of his memory, damn it. Why, the way he’d caught Terry’s eye since the school year had started, tiny little fluffy-haired brunette—like he’d been tailored just for Terry’s personal tastes. The sweet, addictive scent of him when Terry had bumped into him between classes, once, twice, thrice on purpose—before casually asking him to his party. And when he’d shown up, all in over his head and cutely thanking Terry for the invite—Terry had been ridiculously charmed, deciding then and there that the kid was his that night. (Who cared that he was 14-looking-12? Society didn’t give a flying fuck about Omega-rights and nor did Terry, though both pretended they did.) Anyway, he knew he’d decided rightly when, later on, his mouth had watered like never before to stake his claim on that mating gland when the kid had curled up in his lap away from prying eyes, tipsy and adorable. Or how gorgeous those brown eyes were, especially when they’d looked shyly up at him with such tender affection that Terry had carried him off then and there to his bedroom. The flushed cheeks, the plump mouth moving naively against his own. It was nearly too much. And those sweet, if surprised, sobs of pleasure when he’d...

Shit, he needs another fucking drink. 

So what happens next, Anon?

Daniel has the pup, of course—an Omega he names Samantha. And he loves her from the moment she’s placed screaming in his exhausted arms. Adores her instantly, perhaps even more than usual, because she has her father’s wavy dark hair, and his bright blue eyes...

...Daniel manages to get through school until 18, finding it tremendously difficult to balance studying, and a part time job, and a puppy, but he pushes through it, sometimes on three hours of sleep a night, determined. And maybe a little bit angry (and a lot hurt). The meagre monthly stipend he receives from Terry’s father for having an Omega puppy covers some of Sam’s expenses, and that’s a blessing regardless, because she’ll have it until she has her Omega coming of age at 16, when the dole will stop. It’s not that bad, he supposes wistfully sometimes when Sam’s asleep, and his homework is completed, and it’s just him and his lonesome thoughts. 

(Not that bad even if it does sting that Terry’s never bothered to contact them, or that he hasn’t seen the Alpha since he was pulled out of that school early March. Just to have one more look at him, that’s all he wanted. For old times sake...)

As for Ma, well she's eternally disappointed in him, of course, even though Daniel tries his very best. But she left New Jersey to give him a better life, a better chance across the country where Omegas were allowed to flourish—and what did he do to repay her just a few months later? Oh, she loves Sammy very much and helps take care of her, but something breaks down in their relationship, and Daniel simply doesn’t have the tools to fix it. So when, at 18, Daniel and little Sam relocate to the Bronx for a charity-organized paid training position for single-parent Omegas it’s with a strange, if bittersweet, relief on both sides of the parting. 

But he’s grateful to be trained as a mechanic, a position Omegas aren’t usually taught, nor hired to be in. But Daniel’s a fighter, he fought for equal-opportunity job rights, fought for his little Sam, for himself. He won’t let his past hurt him. He’s gonna move on. Maybe the progressive, Omega-friendly New York City is where he’s meant to be. 

And for a while he’s right, Anon, because now, at 20, he’s respected at his job, and makes a decent living. He’s even landed a good-looking 30 year old blond fighter pilot in the Alpha Armed Forces (the AAF) named Johnny. They’re living together, and Johnny popped the question a little while ago. Daniel’s now got a nice little ring on his finger, and Johnny’s even tried to Claim him, but for some reason it didn’t take...

Whatever. Johnny doesn’t care that the Claim didn’t hold, or that Daniel has had a pup with another Alpha. Sammy likes him, he’s got a steady job, he makes Daniel laugh nearly as much as they bicker, and okay, okay—it’s so very nice to be petted, and cuddled, and wanted, and have his natural Omega urges satisfied. Oh, Daniel likes Johnny very much. (Maybe one day he’ll even love him.)

So, overall, things are going well!

...Until it doesn’t, Anon, because one day, Daniel finds himself adding the finishing touches to a gorgeous vintage black convertible with red leather insides that some fool rear-ended. A classic make like this would cost a pretty penny; whatever Alpha owns this (and of course it’s an Alpha)—is filthy, disgustingly rich. 

He should have known then, should have realized before the owner showed up, before the long stride of expensive dress shoes was heard echoing off the concrete floors. Before that familiar scent of bourbon and cigar smoke hit his nose.

But Daniel doesn’t, so when Terry Silver—wealthier, taller, and more dashing than ever—shows up, Daniel finds himself backing up against the car he just polished, so many emotions tangled up in his stomach it’ll take years to pull them apart, if ever. 

Terry’s polite, charming, sophisticated. But the years have sharpened him like a knife, making his smile at once captivating and deadly. He tells Daniel in a friendly manner how he’s very recently become the head of his family’s company, now that his father’s finally passed. That he’s the one who sent Daniel the latest monthly stipend for Sam seeing that Margaret was dismissed immediately after the funeral. That he’s known the exact whereabouts of Daniel and Samantha for two weeks now, since the day his father died. 

Terry tells him, still grinning even while Daniel’s hands start shaking—of the fact that his convertible landing in Daniel’s bodyshop was not a stroke of luck, but rather a set-up. A plan not only for Terry’s personal amusement, but also to soothe his rage—to observe Danny at work, see how an Omega got by at a (haha!) paying job. A job which he, sweet Danny-boy, should never have been fucking trained for in the first place, which he should never have been working at. Or working, whatsoever. 

That Terry knows—and here his blue eyes grow so cold when he glances in utter disgust at the simple engagement ring that they look like ice—about Johnny. About their wedding plans. About the failed Claiming. 

And lastly, lastly because this is all not enough of shock for one day, for one life—

—the reason, Terry says as lightly as if he were mentioning the weather, the Claiming failed from that subpar fool of an Alpha is because you’ve already been Claimed, sweetheart. Since that night when you were 14. For several years now, you’ve been mine. And, Danny-boy, darling—you didn’t even suspect a thing. 

Daniel can’t breathe, can’t think. Can’t do anything except put up his hands defensively as Terry steps in close, crowding Daniel against the convertible, the knots of his spine shoved hard enough against the polished metal to be sore for days. 

Terry’s shadow towers over Daniel, and his hands hold his wrists so tightly that he wraps them in bruises just as he did all those years ago. Daniel whimpers in pain, in fear, in terrified confusion at how quickly his life has turned upside down again—and Terry’s smile broadens as he grinds Daniel’s wrist bones painfully.

All these years, Terry whispers in his ear, I couldn't get you out of my fucking mind. It was like having a fever that never got better. I had to make it better; I had to get better, Danny-boy. My father, curse him, wouldn't have it. He thought it was nonsense, that it would run its course, and when it didn't, he took great care to keep any and all information about you and my pup away from me. Margaret helped. And I waited, waited until he dropped dead by either my hand or fate, and everything he owned and signed and kept hidden—became mine. Though you, Terry says kissing the top of his head tenderly, have always been. 

He takes Daniel in his arms, rests his head against his chest, against his heartbeat. Chuckles when he feels the tremors going through Daniel's body. 

Terry gives Daniel an ultimatum: Daniel and Sam can go back with him to LA on his private plane, latest by tomorrow night—or he takes Sam with him in the next hour, and Daniel will never see her again, he’ll make sure of it. What's Daniel going to do, anyways? A working-class Omega who got knocked up at 14, attempt to go up against an Alpha, a Silver? Oh, sweetheart. How you make me laugh! 

And it's bullshit, total bullshit in every way because of course there's only one solution. There's no way Daniel would ever leave his little girl, and Terry knows this. He's always known this. It's the ace up his sleeve. 

So he wipes the tear that falls down Daniel’s cheek almost gently, letting his thumb linger on Daniel’s wobbling bottom lip. There’s a hunger in his eyes, a possessive desire. A cold-blooded triumph. 

“Well, Danny-boy?” he says fondly. 

[mrs-fairchild]

Just finished reading Chain of Thorns and I gotta say, I'm so disappointed for many reasons (and not just Christopher's death).

First of all, I don't know about you, but I just can't stand that the whole reason behind the famous family tree being completely wrong is just that "oh well, there's this quirky Shadowhunter who likes to make up family trees".

Like, instead of integrating this with the plot, making it so as the Shadowhunters (or Jem, as a silent brother) has a legitimate reason to alter the historical records, we got this slap dash, lazy, cop out.

Second of all, I know Alastair was a dick to the Merry Thieves when they were at school because I've read the short stories from TFTSA and GOTSM, but we never see that in the actual trilogy (which is supposed to be self contained). All we ever see is PAGES AND PAGES of him moping about how he can't be with Thomas when he's supposedly such a bad person, but throughout the books he's nothing if not loving and caring and mildly sarcastic.

And finally, after creating the perfect love triangle in TID, what in the name of all hells, was this forced thing between Mathew, James and Cordelia? Like, I love Matthew. But the books make it so clear that Cordelia is desperately in love with James, that every moment she spent with Matthew was just plain annoying. I'd keep reading only to move on already.

There is no way people were actually invested in Matthew/Cordelia, and that forced plot only served to turn Matthew, a character which I loved before the books, into merely an obstacle to the main character's happy ending.

Sorry, Cassie. I just don't think this was your best work.

[bluiex]

WHEW BOY this is a long one hello!! a new anon (me!!) has entered the battle with the need of some motivation for a scarian wip that has been in my docs for ((smirk smirk)) ages. probably . the next logical step was to finish and share my brainrot <3 but I’m terrible at keeping myself motivated so I wanted to share it with u!!! see what you think so far!! im also always open to ideas or criticism!!

basic rundown but it’s really just…romanticizing the idea of exes…getting better after taking some time apart…then awkwardly encountering each other and relearning how to love each other again…with none of the toxic. nasty stuff and just. fluff . also some sillies of course with boatem sharehouse, oblivious pals, and of course. pining scarian (always happy to go more into it if it sounds confusing!!)

=

Surely Scar noticed. He'd be a fool not to recognise his ex. Well. Maybe he was? A fool, that is.

He had done stupider things before - though somehow that was never a dealbreaker for Grian. Oddly enough, he usually found it endearing and definitely had his own faults that Scar greatly admired at the time and…

Hah. Look where that got them.

Grian shook his head to himself — no! No feeling sorry for yourself! It’s just - it’s easy for the mind to wander when the something you’ve been avoiding is suddenly at the bottom of the staircase and…

Scar’s hair had grown longer.

Grian bit his own tongue and his cheeks flushed. He was such an idiot sometimes. His face was feeling warm from…embarrassment. That was it. (He justified to nobody but himself)

It was something they used to do. Cut hair, that is. It was an intimate moment— things were said that could have never been taken back. Trust was exchanged. The backyard, the cicadas, and Scar’s hair, slowly getting shorter as Grian continued to ship at it. Scar insisted they take one of the stools outside so they could bask in the sunlight, and they had laughed when the stool ended up wobbly against the cobblestone and grass. Scar fell on his face a resounding two times.

Though the sun was actually nice. It surely didn’t give him a reason to go shirtless but - Grian inhales a chuckle - stopping himself before it comes out. In the past, he reminded himself.

“Be careful,”

Scar had told him, a laugh bubbled up in his throat. He looked absolutely enamoured with Grian.

“I’m always careful.”

Honestly.

He remembers the feeling of his hands running through Scar's fringe, short and usually styled though came out a little curled after a thorough rinse. Scar squirmed under Grian’s touch, so much so he ended up accidentally giving him a cut with the scissors.

(Scar still had the adorably stupid cat bandaid on the last time he saw the back of his neck, peeling at its ends. Surely, the cut would have healed completely by now.)

Then that irritating smell of conditioner and shampoo stuck in Grian's nostrils for the rest of the day. They weren’t living together; hadn’t quite considered it but bantered and daydreamed about the idea of it, so there was that after-shower smell. It was new to Grian - honey scented. With a dash of citrus.

He doesn’t…constantly think about it, but if honey did give Grian headaches and butterflies, then well…that’s a secret he’d bring to his grave.

Running a hand through his own hair, he couldn’t help but imagine Scar's. His hair back then was shorter than Grian's now, and his own bangs didn't feel quite right — it wasn't the same texture as Scar's. He continues to take another bite of the nutrition bar before feeling the weight of an empty wrapper crumpled up in his hand. Grian stared at it for maybe just a moment - his will to continue moping dying out.

finally picked up some courage to share this….hm don’t know why I was so intimidated

I have to say first, i absolitely ADORE your writing. oh my goodness- it's so amazing! and this idea? I LOVE IT. I'm a real sucker for the whole exes find each other again and fall in love all over again, but this time it's better. cuz theyre not toxic/immature anymore.. so good so good.. I would kiss you on the mouth /p if you finished writing this. The way you write the emotions, and describe the scene? OUGH beautiful, i can feel and see it in my mind

[the12thnightproject]

Tempest in Time Prologue Part One - The Wormhole

Katsuko and her brother Toshiie are pulled through a wormhole to Japan, 1575

“Did you repair the drone?” I didn’t bother with a greeting.

Toshiie remedied my omission. “Hello. How was your week? I’ve missed you.” His snark burned through the 4G network. You’ve heard those stories of exploding telephones? If sarcasm could explode a phone, my brother would have killed three of mine already. “And yes, it’s fixed.”

I impatiently picked at my toenail while I went through the niceties with my twin. “Sorry. Hello. How was your week? I’ve missed you.” I had missed him, actually. At least as much as I missed anyone.

“Someone threw up in bio lab. That was the highlight.”

“Ew.” And he likely wasn’t being sarcastic. Knowing Tosh, it might have truly been the highlight of his week. He was studying nursing, with an eye to someday going to Medical School, so vomit and blood and bodies never bothered him. As a perpetually overworked student, his life was the lab, homework, and sleep.

Good thing he had me to break him out of his patterns. “Just dropped a pin to your phone – can you meet me there in an hour? Bring the drone.”

A loud sigh attacked my eardrum. “Katsuko, I have exams to study for. So do you.”

I was half-heartedly studying physical therapy. Very half-heartedly. These days there wasn’t much I was doing full hearted. Except…

“Please, please, please!” I had already changed from the outfit I had worn to class that morning, into sports bra, tank, and sweats. I stuck the phone between my ear and my shoulder, so I could I tape up my wrists. I knew Tosh wouldn’t turn me down.

With another (overly) dramatic sigh, he agreed. “Fine. See you in sixty.”

This time, Tosh was the one who skipped the greeting, hanging up without a goodbye. That’s typical of us. I hate saying hello. Tosh hates goodbye.

Sixty minutes was enough time to grab my beloved blue hoodie, my phone, a couple bottles of water, and some vegan power bars. I stuffed them all in my backpack, and ran out the door…

... and ran back in to grab my IC card.

As I dashed out the building again, I bundled my turquoise streaked hair in a lopsided ponytail, IC card clenched in my teeth as I chased down the bus.

In less than an hour, I was warming up in front of a three-story building, plotting out my route.

Tosh was late, as usual. I sometimes teased him about living on Toshiie time, but I was used to building an extra ten minutes into a schedule if I really needed him to be punctual. Eventually, he rolled up while I was pacing out the dimensions of the courtyard in front of a three story building. I watched him park his moped, then jog down the sidewalk, ignoring the admiring glances he was drawing from men and women alike.

You know how in some families, one kid gets the looks, and one kid gets the brains? Beautiful, brilliant Toshiie got both.

Me? I got the –

Thwack!

I winced as Tosh tripped over air.

-Coordination.

He stumbled a few steps toward me. I rushed forward to rescue his gear bag, knowing it was full of expensive camera equipment.

“Oh sure, save the bag, let your brother fall on his face,” Tosh grumbled.

“You just got this fixed from the last time.” I unpacked the drone.

He nodded, seeing my point. “What’s your route?”

I gestured to a series of railings, the exterior stairs, and the roof. “If you can, get hand-held for a wide angle, and send the drone above. Once I’m on the roof, meet me behind the building – there’s a park, and get ready to track my descent.”

There was no reason to explain any more. What’s the phrase – it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission?”

My warm up complete, I centered myself in a handstand while Tosh set up the cameras. Once he gave me a thumbs up, I flipped back to my feet and took off…

It’s called Freerunning. That use of obstacles to propel yourself through space, using your hands, feet and the environment as you nearly fly up, down, across, and under the landscape. Martial artists might call it by the French term, parkour, but I love the word freerunning. Free running.

Running free.

I hopped from one railing to another, balancing briefly on metal as I jumped over the side of the stairwell, then bounced to the wall of the next landing – zig zagging up levels until I flipped onto the roof. With a handspring for extra flair, I zipped across the rooftop.

When I was little, my mother, “exhausted” (her word) by my bouncing around our apartment, enrolled me in artistic gymnastics. That was fun for a few years, but I got bored with all the rules. Now, it’s me and the sky.

In winter, that means snowboarding every chance I get. In summer?

Running free.

At the other end of the rooftop, a metal safety rail lined the edge. I jumped up on the railing and impulsively tried a handstand and – the something shimmered in my peripheral vision, almost like the horizon was put together unevenly, no, that must have been the drone hovering — I shook my head to clear it, then--

Whoa! Ok. Balance check there.

That could have been bad… but what a rush!

Off I went again, ricocheting between the walls of the two buildings, and somersaulting into the park. I vaulted over the railing, jumped up to catch a bar of the jungle gym, using momentum to swing to another bar before throwing myself toward the soft sand at the end.

Out of breath, I slammed a water while Tosh recalled the drone and played back the footage.

“Fuck!” He was frowning into the camera.

“What, didn’t it record?” I rested my chin on his shoulder to peer at the replay. It looked like it recorded. It was already uploaded to the cloud, in fact.

“It recorded.” He rewound the video to the moment where it looked like I had almost fallen off the roof railing. “Katsuko – you could have been killed.”

“I wasn’t, though.” I broke into my energy bar stash and offered him one.

He pushed it away. “I’m done.”

I didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Wait. Don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” But he hugged me in spite of his harsh tone. “I can’t keep watching you chase death.”

“Stop it. I’m not like that.” I’m not like her. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“What are you doing?”

“I…I don’t know.” It was the truth. All I knew is that I had to keep running, or there would come a day when I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. “Let’s get out of here.”

No need to specify where. When Toshiie and I needed a place to talk or to think, or both, we’d head out to the Togakushi Shrine area. It was the one place that seemed to speak to both of us, although I knew that Tosh preferred the shrines, while I was happiest on the trails.

We took his bike out to the shrine, and once there, walked quietly through the 400 year old cedar trees that marked the path to the upper shrine. Finally he asked, “If I begged you to stop, could you?”

My throat closed up at the thought. “What is this? An intervention? It’s not like I’m an addict.”

“I think you kind of are, actually.”

Seriously? His Introduction to Psychology course was going to his head. But I knew that he meant every word. “Wait, ok, how about this. I’ll stop taking extreme risks, ok?” I could do that. At least I wouldn’t take any risks if he was watching. In a few months, when the mountains were covered with snow, I’d take my board out to X-JAM as often as possible, and scratch my risk-taking itch on the half-pipe. So… really, I only had to behave through the rest of summer and fall.

CRASH! BOOM!

Distracted by our discussion, we hadn’t noticed the weather changing, until the crackle of lightning startled both of us. Within minutes, rain was pouring buckets. 

“Once again, the weather forecast was completely wrong.” Tosh muttered curses at the weatherman as he tried to keep the rain off his gear.

The timing was bad, but aside from that, I love storms. Something about the electricity in the air makes me feel more alive. I tilted my face to the sky and – “That’s weird.”

“It’s water, doofus.” Getting rained on makes Tosh cranky.

The entire landscape was vanishing under a dark mist. “Tosh, have you ever seen a fog bank in a storm?”

“What are you -?” He finally looked up from his camera. “You’re right. This is weird.”

It was still thundering and lightning, but the rain had turned to a thick soupy fog that blotted out almost all light, the seeped around and into my body. We were fading, becoming as unsubstantial as the mist that poured through us.

Tosh raised his hand. It looked translucent. “What the hell?!” His words came out as a whisper, as if the fog had invaded his throat.

I felt dizzy and ill, like the time after I broke my ankle and had had an allergic reaction to the anesthesia. Tosh grabbed onto me, his arms spasmed around my back. I closed my eyes and buried my face in his shoulder. I could feel he was shaking, or maybe that was me, and then-

THUNK. The two of us crashed onto the ground, onto a carpet of what smelled like pine needles?

I cautiously opened my eyes. Yep. Pine needles. The storm had passed as quickly as it had begun, and the sun was as bright as midday, though it had to be close to eight or nine p.m. But in the bright sunlight, I felt cold. And… was that sn-?

Brrrrr – my hoodie was not nearly warm enough any more. But I was better off than Tosh in his windbreaker. “But, it’s summer,” was all I could think to say. I rubbed my hands together. “Reverse global warming?”

“Actually global warming has been known to cause odd weather patterns,” Tosh said absently as he fiddled with his phone. “No bars.”

I got mine out. Nope. No bars, no GPS.

Something else seemed… eerie. It was silence. The daily hum of electricity, distant traffic, airplanes, that background white noise was all the more conspicuous for its absence.

“The footpath is gone.” Tosh kicked at the now overgrown carpet of brush below us.

“So are the cedar trees.” We were still in a forest of sort, but the comforting presence of the giant cedars was no longer there.

“Theory?” In the back of my head was a rather loud voice telling me that there had been an apocalypse and we were both dead. Funny, after spending the last year of my life not caring whether or not I lived or died, now that the possibility was in front of me, I really hoped I wasn’t dead.

He held up three fingers. “I got three. Apocalypse – like the snap in The Infinity Gauntlet.”

So he was on the same mental path that I was. But were we victims of the snap, or the only ones left behind? “Or…?”

“Or maybe we’ve somehow slipped into a different version of our universe?” One finger left. “Or, maybe it’s something simpler. One of us is dreaming.”

Dream. Yeah. A dream would be an acceptable explanation. “You couldn’t have led with the theory that doesn’t involve mass death?”

Tosh shrugged. “I went with the bad news fir-“

“Shhh!” I put my hand over his mouth.

What was that noise?

The clang of metal.

Harsh voices…

Hoofbeats… horses?

Tosh and I held still, unsure whether this new twist would be an improvement or make things worse?

A group of men in armor – dressed as samurai?! – burst out of the trees, brandishing swords and pikes.

“Whoa!” Tosh looked at the lacquered armor that covered the warriors. “Someone’s LARP group is uber committed.”

The person who appeared to be their leader barked something at us, but their dialect and accent was harsh and unfamiliar. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were saying. But the gist was something along the lines of robbery and enslavement… I think…? Tosh and I looked at each other, and wordlessly decided that our best bet was to run.

Unfortunately, immediate danger didn’t make Tosh any less clumsy. He went sprawling over a log, and while I was trying to help him to his feet we were surrounded. “Tosh, do you understand what they are saying?”

He shook his head. “I think they want to sell us… to the nanban?”

I had no idea what the nanban was or why it wanted buy people, but they were examining us like merchandise, so that was probably the correct interpretation. They pulled my hair out of its ponytail, marveling over the turquoise streaks, which apparently meant they could get more money for me?

That’s enough! When one of them checked my teeth, I bit him. That earned me a hard punch to the stomach. Another man was fascinated by the zipper on my hoodie. When he managed to unzip it and got a look at my thin tank top, he muttered, “Woman.”

Alright, the good news at least is that I was developing a better ear for their dialect. The bad news was that I didn’t actually want to know what they planned to do with a female prisoner. When the leader came in to take a closer examination of my body, I reacted instinctively and kicked out. I saw the punch coming at me …

Oh this is going to hur--

What brought me back to consciousness was the sensation of cold and damp -- I had been dumped into a snow bank. There were sounds of clanking metal again, yelling, grunts, then a yelp of pain. I opened my eyes to see the apparent leader of the bandit gang fighting with an old man (said “old man” would, if he could hear me, object to me characterizing him that way, but in that moment, he seemed quite elderly). The old man had amazing fighting abilities, whirling and punching with a spear.

In no time, my captor was groaning on the ground, his leg bent at an odd angle.

“Come on child.” My rescuer hurried to my side and wrapped me up in a warm cloak. “You’ll catch your death of cold.”

Still dizzy from the blow to the head, it took a moment to realize that… “Wait. Where are the others?” Where’s Toshiie?

“Others? There was this one man and you.” The man gave a shrill whistle, and a horse whinnied in the distance, then trotted up to us.

I explained what had happened with the bandits. “The rest of them must still have my brother. We have to go back to get him.”

He shook his head. “They’re long gone by now.” But in spite of his protest, he took me up on his horse, and we headed back through the trees. He was correct though – they were long gone.

“Is there a way to track them?” If this man could fight, then maybe he could-

“Not in this storm.” The snow had increased from light cotton balls to a swirling curtain of fat flakes. I shuddered, partially from the cold, partially from the fear that this was another storm that would pick me up and dump me somewhere else. Somewhere worse, than wherever here was. I flinched from the thought of what would be worse than armed bandits who wanted to sell me into slavery.

Dinosaurs. Dinosaurs would be worse.

After a long, cold and ride up a steep path, we arrived at gated manor near the top of the mountain. The storm was raging, and my teeth were chattering by then. The man gave my outfit a critical look. “Do you have any other clothing? Anything more suited for a woman?”

“No. When I left my – home – this afternoon, I expected to return in a couple hours.” I had no idea how much time (ha!) had passed. More than a couple of hours. More than a day. More than a century.

He helped me down – my legs had gotten cramped and stiff during the ride. “Where is your home? When the storm ends, I can send one of my apprentices to take you back.”

“It’s not going to be that simple,” I said, after getting a good look at a building that looked like it had been constructed recently – but it was an architectural style that I recognized from samurai houses that I had visited on school trips. That, along with the evidence of the missing cedar trees, and the men in armor, was leading me to a conclusion that I wouldn’t have believed if I hadn’t been in the middle of it.

But to announce that I was from a few hundred years in the future seemed to me to be the fastest way to get a one-way ticket to whatever this era’s version of a psychiatric hold was, so, instead, I simply said, “Our home was destroyed by the storm.”

He gave me the universal “I don’t believe you,” look, but he didn’t press the issue. In the years since, I have never told Yamaoka Akihira (that’s his name, but he lets us call him Aki) the truth about where I came from, but I’ve also managed, thanks to him, to become a much better liar.

“Alright,” he finally said, as we entered his house. “Do you have anywhere else to go?”

“No.” I was grateful to be out of the wind and snow, and not particularly interested in going back outside.

He rubbed his chin – a gesture that I’ve since come to recognize as his only “tell” that he’s calculating out several moves in an extended mental shogi game, before saying, “I suppose it’s a good thing that I hadn’t yet found a new maid.”

[benevolentgodloki]

SALT UP MY DASH.

♢ Has anyone ever tried to steal your blog? Your headcanons? Icons? All that jazz

☢ What fads/trends are you so over?

❣ How salty are you feeling right now? (plus permission to rant about anything you need to :D)

Salty Munday Meme

// PREPARE TO BE DISAPPOINTED 😂

♢ Yanno, I don't think anyone has that I remember??? Back when I first started there were a heckton of other Lokis. I think there was once where someone had a more or less identical icon to me, which was annoying when I was scrolling the dash, but I don't own the images I use barring cropping whatever else I've found and never claim them to be mine so I've got little grounding to moan. Anyway, it's not the icons that count for me, it's how I use them :U It's possible I got irked in the past when someone pinched ideas of mine but it either wasn't big enough of a deal or didn't impact me enough to remember it. I'm just too weird to emulate I guess XD

☢ I'm so unfashionable that I'm over practically anything long before it starts. I like my role-play simple and lacking format. Oh, I never liked Carrd. SORRY. I mean, it's fine for people who use it, but I can't be arsed myself, and really my biggest bugbear is Google Docs because I have no idea how to hide my icon so people can just see me in there when I take a peek and apparently the buggers now scrape stuff for AI so it's probably worth people avoiding using it at all by now. I've been over tiktok a long time, too. I'm old and I have sensory issues. Fast things that make sound that I have limited opportunities to remember to view stress me out. Wow, I didn't expect to wring salt out of this one but there it went.

❣ Saltier than when I started??? I'm more tired than salty and a bit mope because it's almost that time of the month which brings me sadness, angerness, and general paranoia and bad brain. I should probably avoid looking at tumblr when I first get up in the morning, too, as even though the tags I go in are generally drama-free, they are filled with takes that are Not My Thing so I roll out of bed in a grump lmao.

Thanks for allowing me a salting!