#sorry that turned into a bit of jabbering

[hoppityhopster23]

There's a brief line in Princess Augusta's Wikipedia entry about her first cousin Frederick VI of Denmark telling her father and his uncle King George III his desire to marry her, but wondering you knew more about it?

Was it Augusta? Huh. Well, I knew it was an English princess, but I didn’t know who exactly.  

Long story short, marriages between Danish and English Royals were prevalent. These marriages were beneficial for both nations.

Just after Frederik seized control as regent, it was decided that he needed a spouse. Having relations with England had always been a useful thing, so that's likely why an English princess, like Augusta was an option. The relationship between England and Denmark would've been much more strained at the time, given what had occurred between Frederik's parents and their doctor, Struensee. So an attempt was made and was rejected by George III. The details as to what occurred between George III and Frederik VI is something I know very little of, and the few biographies on Frederik only ever mention that there was an attempt, but nothing else. However, I know of the causes most historians here in Denmark have contributed this rejection to.

Honestly, the rejection likely came from the same situation that caused strain between the nations. The main cause involved Frederiks Father, Christian VII, his mother, Caroline Mathilde (who is also George III's sister), and their personal Doctor, Johann Struensee. I'll make a short rundown here, as this topic has quite a few assorted resources in English- there is even a movie with Mads Mikkelsen in it on this topic. But basically, Caroline Mathilde had been married at 15/16 to the troubled 17-year-old Christian VII, and it didn't end well.

Christian's father, Frederik V had remained more or less indifferent to his heir all his life, and a tutor of his had used and abused Christian, not really educating the boy and heavily using corporal punishment. On top of all this, the boy likely had Schizophrenia. All this made Chrisitan- at his worst- hallucinate, be paranoid, become easily agitated, and self-harm. He also fell deeply into sexual promiscuity. I won't bore you with the details of this, as that aspect of the situation is complex and filled with conjecture.

anyways-

Christian had next to no interest in Caroline Mathilde, more invested in his other lovers and such. Christian's non-abusive Swiss tutor had to step in and push the couple a bit, resulting in the birth of Frederik VI.

Around the same time as Frederik's birth (give or take a year) Caroline Mathilde started to have an affair with Johann Struensee, Christian's personal Doctor. Due to these connections, Struensee gained near full control of the country from 1770-1772. It is likely Frederik's sister is his half-sister, as her father is most likely Struensee. The whole thing ended (I'd go into details, but that's also extremely complex.) with Struensee being executed, and Caroline Mathilde getting a divorce and exiled to Celle.

This is where it gets a bit odd. Robert Murray Keith, on behalf of George III, started to negotiate her release and other things, such as her dowry being returned. Keith did get her the dowry back and also got her a pension. It was George III who suggested sending her to Celle, which was in the Hanover electorate. She died there three years later, at 23 years old.

This no doubt left a foul memory and view of Denmark for George III, so I don't doubt that this is likely the cause.

As to what happened- on the Danish end, I've yet to find any mentions of Princess Augusta or the possibility of Frederik marrying her. It's more than likely that a letter was sent, George said "hell no," and the Danish court dropped the topic, moving on to try to get him to marry a Prussian princess. In the end, however, Frederik did end up marrying his cousin, who gave him little political benefit, in some ways to show independence from his half-uncle and step-grandmother. (he did, however, gain a partner, a lover,- and after she could have more kids lest she die- a lifelong friend.)

Sorry I don't have more, but as there are a few more details on the wiki page, I do not doubt that there is something more out there, however, it's more than likely held English archives, which I have given up trying to gain access to.

I hope this answers your question, even just a little, and feel free to send me another ask if you have any more.

[evilgwrl]

okay ngl, this is an ask I'm sending to multiple people because holy shit why did it pop in my head I need to see this written T^T

reader is part of !141 and is the only one who knows how to ride a motorbike, so she has to go undercover for a biker gang?? idk but just hear me out. Anyway she has no tattoos or piercings so they get her those temporary tattoos that last two weeks and some fake piercings (or real ones in case they fall off) and so none of the 141 know she's having this whole makeover, and when they get the big reveal I just want to know their reactions- I'm sorry I suck at writing, I'm just good at coming up with the ideas lmao. reading back my whole paragraph I realised how much I truly suck at typing, I apologise that you had to deal with this.

Ahhhh!!! I love this. I hope I did your idea justice and you enjoy it anon 🥹 If you want something a lil more racy let me know but I kept it SFW just incase

CW: None

Your body felt exhausted, thighs moulded to the chair as manicured hands rushed around your frame, prodding at your skin with brushes and wet rags, stamping your flesh with intricate designs. The woman’s voice was soft as she took in your expression, an understanding smile adorning her features as she assured you, they were nearly done.

“Voila,” she gasped, moving away from you as you stared at the mirror in front of you. Temporary tattoos snaked around the coil of your arms, muscles stamped with infamous gang signs and your nose and eyebrows dangling with metal jewellery as your fingers prodded at them, your face creased with slight discomfort.

“We’re going to need to get you dressed but you already look the part!”

You winced at the excitement in her voice, a slight simmer of humiliation broiling through you as you took in the look. You looked so… different. “Thank you,” you murmured, turning around to take in the large snake design that was entwined between your spine.

You felt like you were entering a pageant, constant hands smoothing out your skin and hair as you coughed at the lethal amount of hairspray. Grease dribbled down your chin as you choked down some food, disgusted huffs passing through the lady’s mouth as she ushered something about acting the part too.

“You’re all done, sergeant.”

You paced the room anxiously, wire taped to your chest, nestled in between your cleavage as you awaited the remainder of the task force. It was strange, the most they had ever seen you in was a pair of jeans and a simple top beside your military gear, the barracks were no place for fashion. Sweaty hands rubbed at the leather pants; slick stains of residue quickly brushed away nervously as you prodded with the facial piercings in the mirror.

“Hells feckin’ bells, Bonnie,” a swift voice whistled, Soap’s face charmed with a boyish grin, blue eyes sweeping across your exposed skin, “ain’ you a sight for sore eyes?”

“I look ridiculous,” you blurted, folding your arms self-consciously as the Scotsman tsked his tongue, smacking his lips together.

“Ye’ look good… lil too good for the task force, hen. Might need to find ye a new profession after this.”

You rolled his eyes at his playful tone, his lashes flickering as he took in the sight of you. A flirtatious whistle cut through the air as Gaz slapped his hand against the door, mouth wide. “Sergeant Y/N, that you under all those tattoos?” You bit back a bark as he smiled at you, tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips.

“You look good, [callsign]. Them bikers might wanna keep you to themselves.”

“We ain’ gonna let that happen, lass,” Soap jabbered, “Yer’ our girl, ain’ ya?”

Your reply was cut short by a pound against the door as a gruff voice snapped, “Oi, let’s move it. Don’t got all bloody day, Sergeants.”

Ghost’s eyes lingered over you for a moment, blonde lashes flicking up and down your body, pausing on every tattoo almost as if he was memorising them before he turned around, cold physique dusting through the hallway as you all followed. Captain Price was rambling through his headset to Laswell before he paused, dismissing himself as you all waltzed towards him.

A large Yamaha was sleeked against the exit, the tyres slightly worn to feign usage as you whistled lowly. “Got this all for me, Cap?” Your tone was sharp, admiring the ride before you as a tattooed hand wrapped around the leather handles.

“A biker looking like you ain’ gonna ride a shitbox,” he said, his voice holding an underlying meaning as he did a once over, “Y’ get in trouble in there and you call us in immediately, you understand [callsign]?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take care of those tattoos after this as well, suit ya.”

A warm blush settled on the apple of your cheeks before you reached for the helmet, flattening your hair down as you secured it in place.

“Let’s get us a win.”

[mischievousmoony]

Hiiii!!! i absolutely love your writing and i wonder if you wouldn’t mind writing a james potter x fem!reader thingy. Basically where she is out with some

friends that are absolute dicks and basically they ‘dare’ her to walk home in the dark alone whilst she is drunk and she agrees became se she just wants them to like her but she realises how much of an idiot she is and so she walks to James’ house where he comforts her and stuff.

if not don’t worry

love you!!!!

changed the prompt up a little hope it's okay lovie <3 i also made it a bit long for my definition of a drabble but thats ok hopefully u think the more words the merrier luv u

𝚜����𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢

⟢ pairing: james potter x fem!reader ⟢ summary: a cruel prank leaves you drunk and alone on the streets of london and you find safety at your boyfriend's flat ⊹ 2.3k ⟢ warnings: hurt/comfort, intoxication, social anxiety briefly mentioned, implications of how dangerous the situation was, for some reason i used this as an opportunity to practice writing imagery so sorry if it's too much

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The sharp, crisp wind nips at your skin as you walk down the shadowy, deserted London streets, the echo of your heels clicking against the pavement being the only sound that punctures the eerie silence.

A misty breath passes your lips and you hug yourself a little tighter, your hands making futile attempts at smoothing the goosebumps that dot your arms. You mentally curse yourself for listening to your "friends" when they said a jacket would ruin your outfit, wondering if this was their plan all along.

More tears fall as your mind wanders back to the friends you thought you were making and the bitter wind swiftly dries them against your cheeks, leaving your skin tacky with the salty residue.

What was supposed to be an opportunity to forge new friendships with some girls from your class took a devastating turn when they all crammed into a taxi without you, leaving you tipsy and stranded with their parting taunts ringing in your ears.

"Wait, we won't all fit," you had jabbered, the gravity of the situation not yet apparent to your drunk mind as you clumsily stumbled towards the car, your heel catching on a crack in the pavement.

One of the girls snickered as she wrenched the door of the black cab open, "That's a shame, innit?"

"I suppose you'll have to find another way home," another girl remarked, the others laughing along, barely bothering to suppress their amusement.

The carefree smile you sported faded from your face, feelings of dread and alarm creeping up your chest as you murmured, "My phone is dead, I won't be able to call a car."

"Sounds like you'll be walking home tonight," one of them sneered with a cruel edge.

"W-what?" you stammered, your chest rising and falling with a frantic rhythm as the sobering situation sinks in, "Walking back to my flat would take close to an hour."

The last girl to pile into the car— the one who originally extended the invitation to their night out with warmth and enthusiasm— looked up at you from her seat in the taxi with a mix of feigned sympathy and cruel delight. Her eyes gleamed with sly satisfaction as she leaned out of the car and took the door handle into her grasp.

"Well, then you better start," she declared, her tone punctuated by a mocking laugh and the slam of the car door.

You wish you could say that there was a sudden flip in their behavior the moment the taxi pulled up, but the abrasive way they conducted themselves around you all night should have had you running ages ago. But your naivety and desperation to make friends clouded your judgement, you supposing that it might simply take more than one night for the girls to warm up to you.

The sound of the car screeching away still rings in your ears as you brave the streets alone, trudging in the opposite direction of your flat. The hour walk to your home— more if you walked along the safest path you could think of— was too daunting on your mind. Your desperation to get off the streets steered you to your boyfriend's instead, his flat being half as far as yours.

If it weren't for the overwhelming unease you felt, you might have been too embarrassed to face James tonight. But your nervous edge was enough to send you hastily fleeing to his flat, it being well into the A.M., and you being alone— dressed in an outfit you were only comfortable wearing around a swarm of girls you thought had your back— and barely able to hold your own after medicating your social anxiety with a few too many cocktails.

When you finally arrive at the familiar stoop to James' place, you feel a wave of relief wash over you as you stagger up the stairs, leaning heavily on the iron railing for support.

Your knocking is incessant as you mutter pleas under your breath, desperately hoping James is sleeping lightly tonight. It feels like more time has passed than it actually has by the time the door creaks open.

James appears in the doorway, clearly just out of bed. His hair is tousled more than usual, stray strands sticking out unevenly over his forehead, and his clothes are wrinkled from tossing around in his sleep. He straightens out his glasses that lay crooked over the bridge of his nose as he processes your presence, his face a blend of sleepiness and alarm.

You utter his name weakly, a fragile quiver that reveals your vulnerability and distress. James' heart breaks at the sound and he wordlessly pulls you inside and envelopes his arms around you. You let him pull you in and your hands find the plush cotton of his jumper, gripping onto it like a lifeline.

James' mind races with worry, trying to piece together what could have happened to put you on his doorstep, tearful and distraught, in the middle of the night. He knows that you had gone out for some drinks at some bar downtown. He also knows that you weren't supposed to be alone and that you were supposed to take a taxi home— these being the answers to questions he asked earlier to ensure your safety.

The possibilities of what could have went wrong fill him with a profound sense of dread, and he tries not to let himself get carried away with the nightmares that swirl around in his mind.

Wrapped in his arms, you kick your heels off to the side somewhere. The shoes were killing you, and one more second in them and you might have collapsed into a heap on the floor.

James can feel you tremble against him when you settle, a result of the cold and lingering fear from being outside, inebriated and alone.

"You're freezing," he whispers, his voice hoarse from his recent slumber and edged with worry as his large hands come to rub your arms. He frowns at the iciness of your skin.

It's James' first instinct to break the embrace and tug at his collar, pulling the jumper from his own back to drape its warmth over you instead, leaving him only in his joggers that hang lazily from his hips.

The cotton is still warm with his body heat when it cocoons you and the scent of him on the fabric brings you comfort. You sniffle pathetically when you meet James' large, sorrowful eyes that brim with concern as your head pops free from the jumper's collar. He smoothes the fabric over your body quickly before his hands climb up to your face.

The pads of his thumbs sweep away stray tears as he cups your face, his fingers brushing softly along your jawline as he tilts your head to meet his troubled eyes.

"What happened?" he asks, notes of concern in his voice as his thumbs trace soothing shapes into your cheekbones.

An anguished whimper sounds in your throat and more tears begin to spill. You shake your head, unable to find your voice to explain.

"That's okay," he murmurs, pulling you back into his chest as he cradles your head in his hands, "It's okay, my love, I'm here. You're safe."

He coos tender words of comfort and reassurance in your ear, his voice steady and soothing. One hand lowers to gently rub your back until the tremors in your body gradually subside and you begin to feel a sense of security build back up.

James only pulls away when the rise and fall of your chest slows to a steady rhythm. Brown eyes meet yours and he offers a reassuring smile. He murmurs words of beckoning and leads you deeper into his flat. He doesn't take you far, just to his sofa so he can get you off your feet. You're thankful, the blisters from your heels becoming almost unbearable to stand on.

Your boyfriend sits first, gingerly pulling you down onto his lap, both craving your closeness and understanding just how much you need him right now. You curl up with your legs folded in front of you and your knees drawn close to your chest, your side pressed snugly against his torso. One of his arms wraps around your back for support, while the other rests casually over your legs, his large hand comfortably settling on the back of your thigh.

His head lulls forward until he can nuzzle into your hair, his breath warm against your ear as he softly prompts, "Think you can tell me what happened now?"

You sniffle once, letting your lungs fill with air before you stammer into a hesitant explanation. Still embarrassed over the whole ordeal, everything comes out in a small, quivering voice, starting with the awkward tension at the bar and ending with the way they laughed as they cruelly left you on the curb.

A whirlpool of emotions rages in James' chest. He doesn't understand how anyone could be unkind to his lovely girl, and he certainly doesn't understand how anyone could be so heinous to leave a person alone on the street like that.

James swallows hard, his next question living on the tip of his tongue until he has the strength to ask it. His tone is unwaveringly serious, low and intense in its level of concern, when he finally does.

"Baby, please tell me you walked straight here. No one gave you any trouble?"

"No," you shake your head, "no trouble."

James feels his whole body relax at your words, and a noise hitches in the back of his throat as he releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. The overwhelming flood of relief and emotion threatens to bring him to tears, but he manages to hold them back. His eyes close briefly as he presses closer, his nose smooshing against the side of your head as he presses kisses behind your ear.

Your eyes flutter shut too as you allow James to cradle you in his arms. You think about how you almost tripped a few times, but you know that's not exactly what James is worrying about. Although, you can imagine he'd fuss over that too, checking your knees and palms for scuffs and kissing the skin there just because you could've hurt it.

As you feel the tension drain from his body beneath you, you think about how his fears mirrored your own.

"I was scared there would be," you admit in a small voice.

"I know my darling girl. I'm so sorry," he leans back, tilting his head to the side so he can meet your gaze. You don't miss how his eyes are glassy when they lock onto yours with calming intensity, "You're safe now, I've got you." He presses his lips to your forehead, lingering there as he mumbles, "I'm sorry this happened."

"I thought I was making friends," you choke out, the words cracking with the weight of the betrayal.

James feels his heart break all over again.

"Those girls don't deserve to have you as friend."

"But I want friends. It was so easy in secondary school. I've always had you, and Lily, Sirius, Remus. Everyone."

James listens intently, his sympathetic eyes gazing upon yours once again.

"I'm all alone at uni. And I don't why nobody likes me," you finish in anguish.

James promptly moves his hand from your thigh to cup your cheek, "Listen to me. You're lovely, so lovely. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, alright? You're going to find people who think so too."

"And you have me," he corrects. "You still have all of us. I know things are different now, and I bet you're missing having friends in your classes, yeah? But uni's only just started. You're gonna find your people."

"You think so?"

"I know so, lovely girl," he says, his thumb flicking the tip of your nose endearingly, "I was already a goner the first time I spoke to you. And if I remember correctly, you and Lily were thick as thieves after one day of knowing each other. Right?"

You hum affirmatively, remembering the first days of friendship with the people you now call family.

"See? You're good at making friends. It's 'cause you're amazing, anyone with a brain can see that. Those girls are just bloody idiots." James' features take on a sour look when he thinks about them, but with you in his arms, he can't sustain his irritation for long— especially not with you smiling prettily at his words.

"There's that smile," he mumbles fondly, and your giggle is music to his ears. You stay like that for a moment, trading smiles and tender caresses.

Eventually, James' expression shifts, his brow furrowing as he becomes stern.

"Next time you go out, I'm gonna pick you up. I don't care how late, I don't care who you're with. And I'm buying you a portable charger for that phone."

"Okay, Jamie," you agree softly, recognizing the firmness in his voice that leaves no room for argument, and finding it a bit endearing how fiercely he cares for you.

He relaxes again with a sigh. His hand, which still remains cupping your cheek, pulls you a fraction closer.

"I'm happy you're safe, love. I'm happy you came here." Each of his words is wrapped with sincerity and affection. "I love you," he says earnestly.

"I love you too," you whisper, the same depth of emotion laced in your words.

He guides you even closer, meeting you halfway with a tender kiss to your lips. It's a beautiful blend of sweetness and innocence, a soft brush of lips that envelopes you in a blanket of sweet serenity, making you forget what it was ever like to be scared.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[revelboo]

oof ouch ough that angst HURT please madam i'm begging you don't make that canon i'm gonna puke if i have to watch all the idw bots suffer like that - oh god and the tiny baby newsparks would be doomed, either their carriers will die trying to sustain them or they'll fade away, i hate it!!!!

you even used my suggestion of kitten-twins against me... ow. to heal my heart, may i request more of cyclonus and tailgate? hopefully their human's fear will fade into numbness then acceptance quickly, it'll be hard to stay in hypervigilant prey mode when tailgate's doting on reader like a little princess.

Yeah, that angst fic isn’t cannon. I like drama, but I couldn’t actually do that to any of them.

Chain Me Free Pt 3

Tailgate x Reader x Cyclonus

• The terror had faded some after seeing the smaller robot monster, Tailgate you remind yourself, have a nervous breakdown because you were upset. That uneasy fear is still there, nerves jangling, but Tailgate seems bent on overwhelming you with attention until you’re too frazzled to be terrified. You half suspect he’s decided you’re either his personal teddy bear or a beloved puppy. Neither prospect particularly awesome. Legs swinging as you hang on to the arm around your middle tucking you against his frame while he jogs to keep up with the scary one’s, Cyclonus’s, longer stride. Though after watching him calming Tailgate and talking him through what you’re positive was a panic attack, you suspect he’s probably a big softy. Even if he spends a lot of time just frowning at you, they’ve yet to hurt you. That has to be a good sign.

• “Cyclonus, wait up.” Reaching out his free hand, he catches Cyclonus’s hand and the bigger mech finally slows down for him. Interlacing his servos with Cyclonus’s, he shifts you to settle on his hip, feeling those warm hands on his arm. “How are they supposed to get their bearings if you go through the ship so fast?” Can feel your little heart beating against him, the rhythm oddly soothing. Knows Cyclonus is annoyed with him, wanted to give you to someone else, but you’d come to him. Them. And he can’t believe that it was truly random, wants it to be more than a coincidence. That you’re meant to be with them.

• “If you ever let them actually walk, they’ll probably get under ped,” he mutters, feeling Tailgate’s servos tighten on his own in offense. You’re not screaming at least, just dangling and looking around with an almost dazed expression. Still in shock over finding yourself in a strange place among aliens. Feels sorry for you, but he has enough to deal with taking care of Tailgate. Doesn’t need an alien stray.

• “Being small doesn’t automatically make someone a burden,” Tailgate growls, shifting you on his hip again. Like you’re a toddler and his grip is much too tight. Looking around, you feel almost numb, because his rambling explanation had only made things worse. You’re on a ship in space hurtling away from your home and they don’t know when they’ll be able to get you back. They also can’t fully explain how you’d ended up here, your brain filing his excited jabbering under ‘magic.’ And you tense when you see an even bigger gray mech, but it’s the glimpse of a human cradled in his palm, holding onto his servos as he cups them to his chassis that startles you. That person smiling up at the giant and laughing at something he’s said before spotting you and waving with a grin. And they seem okay. That more than anything else breaks through the lingering fear as your own hand weakly lifts, then they’re gone, carried away by their mech.

• “I’m not going to run if you let me walk,” you say, head turning to look at him and Tailgate hesitates. Because as much as he hates it, Cyclonus has a point. Not all the bots on board remember to look down and you’re tiny. Much smaller than he is. “You’re squishing me a bit,” you add, expression pinched and he stops in dismay, awkwardly shuffling you until one of his arms is behind your back and the other behind your knees. “This works,” you murmur and you offer him a hesitant smile that spreads warm through him as he ignores Cyclonus’s tired venting.

Previous

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[moonstruckme]

hiii!! i love your writing so much i think i’ve read every single thing you’ve ever posted. i’m genuinely obsessed 🫶🫶 i was wondering if you could write something where the reader and remus have been dating/talking for a little while and she hasn’t had her first kiss yet and she starts to get nervous everytime she thinks he’s abt to kiss her and she runs away?? i’m ngl this is based off of very real events in my life 😭😭

i love you so much!! hope your doing amazing

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! This is soooo relatable of you haha, I have a library of hilarious stories about my very hyper friend who kept literally springing away from guys she liked who were trying to kiss her, but it does make for some very interesting (and often very sweet) conversations!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

On your first official date with Remus, the two of you went to a drive-in movie. You kept your seatbelt on the entire time. 

You only realized halfway through, mentally kicking yourself for being so jittery you’d lost all sense of normalcy, but by then it felt too late. It’d be awkward to take it off halfway through the movie, try to play that off as casual. You’d made your bed. You didn’t unbuckle until Remus dropped you off at your house at the end of the night. 

On your second date, you’re determined to be less uptight. You want him to know that you really do like him, even if your nerves make you jump and flinch whenever he gets close. At the Italian restaurant, it’s difficult to find a pasta dish without garlic, but you manage it. You’re a girl with an agenda. The two of you split a chocolate cake for dessert. It’s delicious, probably, though you can’t focus on much besides Remus’ story and the way his mouth moves as he tells it. How he tucks one corner of his bottom lip between his teeth when he’s trying to hide a smile. 

You have to hope belatedly that you haven’t somehow smeared chocolate all over your face while eating. You’re not at all confident you would’ve noticed. 

It’s a short walk back to your place, and you manage to jabber the whole way, a masterclass in self-sabotage. Remus doesn’t seem to mind, his hand light and cordial on your back as he guides you up the steps to your door. You savor the touch. It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to spring away. 

“It sounds really interesting,” he says graciously as you finish your tangent about the book you’ve just read. “I’ll have to pick up a copy.” 

“I can lend you mine,” you offer. “Maybe I can bring it the next time we hang out?” Your voice tips up hopefully at the end of the question, and warmth touches your cheeks. 

A similar pinkening spreads across Remus’ freckles. He smiles at you, the scar across his lip stretching. You’re spellbound. 

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You might be imagining it, but you could swear his eyes flit to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says. “I really like talking to you.” 

Your voice is soft. “I like talking to you, too.” 

He takes a step towards you, and it’s like your muscles stage a coup. You take an involuntary step backward, a smile plastering itself uncomfortably on your face. 

“Thanks for everything,” you say brightly. “Goodnight!”

You spin and go for the door handle, and you’re nearly inside before you hear Remus’ quiet “Wait.” 

You turn. Lead in your bones. 

Remus is holding his palms up as if to show you he’s got no weapon. 

“Sorry,” he says, “I just wanted to…you know I’d never do anything you didn’t want me to, right?” 

You’re frozen stiff. 

“Like, even if I thought there was a chance you didn’t want to, I would never…” He shakes his head, looking lost. Guilt settles like a stone in your gut. “I guess I’m a bit confused. If you don’t want to do anything, that’s completely fine, but sometimes it seems like you want me to kiss you, and then you don’t…” 

“Rem,” you say. You feel like you’re breathing through a straw. “Remus, I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart, it’s not your fault—” 

“No, it is. It’s not—I don’t want you to think I’m scared of you or anything. I’m not, it’s just, I get skittish.” You can’t make yourself look at his eyes, your gaze stuck just shy of his chin. Your face feels aflame. “It’s not you. I’m just nervous.” 

“Oh.” It’s a soft thing, more exhale than anything. Then his fingers curl under your chin, tipping your face up. “Well, you can relax, love. I was never going to make a move unless I got a clear signal from you first. But we can just take that off the table completely, if you’d like.” He gives you a small, gentle smile. “I only want you to feel comfortable.” 

Your heart zings right up into your throat. “I do feel comfortable,” you blurt. “I don’t want it off the table.” 

Remus’ eyebrows flick upwards. “You don’t?” 

“No,” you murmur, bashful. 

His eyebrows come slowly back down, puckering slightly as he tries to figure you out. His eyes narrow until his lashes kiss. His tongue pokes into his cheek, just a little. You miss nothing. You find yourself taking in a quiet breath, steeling yourself. 

You move across that tiny bit of air between you and find him there waiting.

It’s everything you could’ve hoped for and yet startlingly simple. Remus’ lips are warm and soft, pressing into yours with an intensity that you suspect is nonetheless restrained for your benefit. He tastes like chocolate cake. 

His mouth meanders over to the corner of your lips, granting one quick peck to your cheek before making its way back to the center of your mouth, reverent. He backs away slowly, easing you out of it. 

“Wasn’t really expecting that,” he admits.

“Me neither. Was it alright?” Your voice is a bit breathy. “I’ve never done that before.” 

For a moment, he’s quiet. 

“That was your first kiss?” 

You swallow, rubbing your lips together as you nod. 

“Sweetheart,” he grins, “you’re a natural.” 

A giggle spurts out of you, dizzy with the taste of him and the novelty of it all. “You mean it?” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He mimes drawing a cross over his heart. It occurs to you that you both seem infinitely more at ease than you have since dinner. The corner of Remus’ bottom lip goes between his teeth, his cheek dimpling. “I mean, there is something to be said for practice, though.” 

You don’t fight your own grin; it comes out in full force. “Mm, I think I’ve heard something about that. Practice makes…defective, right? Something like that.” 

“C’mere.” Remus rolls his eyes at you, but as his arms wrap around you his smile mirrors yours. 

[samandcolbysbitchsworld]

BABE?...

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Sum: Colby loves the nickname "babe" or "baby" and or "babes", so saying it every sentence? Oh hes on his knees.

Waenings; nun, just pure fluff. Lmk if i forgot smth❤💋

Authors note: i personally LOVE the nickname baby/babes/babe its just so freakin cute i love it sm, so i decided..why ot make smth with it, right? Anyways ask if u want this as series. Bc..is series material..i think-

You'd assumed colby will be absolutely exhausted from filming and driving with his bsf sam, but that means they got some good stuff on camrea, though you hate seeing him absolutely exhausted. So when he told you he was on his way home, you made his favorite meal, turned on his show, made a comfortable spot on the couch, and made his favorie tea. And then..you waited.

Soon enough he got home, opening the door placing the bag full of equipment for recording and ect on the ground gently. Letting out a loud sigh before speaking..“love? Im home” he hummed loud enough. You came around the corner as he started taking his shoes off. “oh hai, babe's how was recording?” colby’s face lit up a bit at the name. “it was good, we got a decent amount done, im exhausted tbough..” he got closer, wrapping his arms around you in'a lazy tired hug.

“Mm, thats good. I missed you, baby” he knew you hated when he was gone for so long, he did just as much, but it was worth the wait. “i missed you too, love..im sorry i was gone for so long, make it up with cuddles, i promise?” his voice sounded like it was filled with guilt. “hm, i like that idea, i also have an idea though, go get settled on the couch, ill come around in a sec.”

“yes ma'am” he said playfully, he knew you loved when he called u ma'am. He went and sat down and got comfortable, enjoying the warm atmosphere you had provided for him. you soon came around the corner once again, with his drink in one hand and his favorite meal in the other. You watched as his face lit up with pure admiration and gratitude.

“you seemed exhausted so i did what little i could to make you feel better, baby.” you spoke softly he loved when u did small things for him, especially like this.

Fast foward; here we are, watching his favorite movie and cuddling. He was just jabbering on about his day watching the movie while you had you're full attention on him. U was listening to him proudly, looking up at him with pure admiration. You loved him so much. Hes you're sweetheart..

Stop i love this but i hate it at the same time, it feels so short but idk how to continue it😭 anyways, heres yalls first actual fic from me !! Luv yuall, send in requests even! I'd love to see them

[aureliaporter]

omg sooooooo happy i saw your post about morck fics!! I just can’t help thinking of the ultimate grumpy x sunshine! where the readers like the sweetest girl in the office, wouldn’t hurt a fly and like morck is a simp ONLY for her!

a/n: thanks for the req! sorry it took me a week 😓 but i hope this lives up to your expectations!

summary: mørck is a little bit in love, and hardy loves to poke fun.

cw: fluff, cursing, slightly ooc mørck.

there was only one thing carl hated more than moira's constant jabbering.

your smile.

especially when it was directed to anybody but him.

"hi, james!" you greeted as you literally skipped into department q. for someone who worked in an actual bathroom, you were cheery as shit. "i'm trying a new brownie recipe, if you wanna try it?"

he hated it. hated how you stood there and smiled at hardy, of all people, when you could be smiling at him. then he shook himself. what was wrong with him?

"oh, thanks," hardy said, reaching into the box you'd offered and plucking one out.

carl watched and pretended not to watch as you made your way around the room, offering a brownie to akram, and to rose, and then finally stopped in front of his desk. he hated the way his heart suddenly picked up, the way he felt his cheeks beginning to warm, the way you offered him the exact same smile you gave to the other members of your little department.

it took him a moment too long to realize you'd been waiting for a response. your smile was still in place, your patience uncannily long to be working with a guy like him.

"uh.. yeah, sure," he said, and you offered the box of brownies to him.

"promise i didn't lace them," you teased, and he felt his heart skip again. fucking hell.

he reached into the box and pulled out a piece, raising it to his lips. for some odd reason, you stayed at his desk, still smiling down at him where he sat. did you want his reaction?

he bit into the brownie, and- shit, he didn't particularly like sweets, but maybe he had a new favorite. as long as it was only you who was making it.

"it's- it's good," he managed around a mouthful of brownie, and your lips lifted into a grin. how could one person smile so much?

"good!" you chirped, and you popped the lid back onto your box before you walked back to your desk. he hated it. why couldn't you stay next to him? no, he was being stupid.

the rest of the day was spent in general annoyance, on carl's end. he'd made zero progress on their case - some missing journalist from fifteen years ago - instead swapping between staring blankly at his laptop screen and at you.

you looked stressed, he realized. maybe it was just the horrible lighting of the shower quarters, but there was a furrow in your brows he didn't often see. small shadows smudged the space beneath your eyes, like you hadn't been sleeping.

"oi, carl!" had him snapping his head back towards hardy, who'd somehow managed to creep up to the side of his desk without him hearing his lousy arm crutches. he really was out of it. "c'mon, you joining me at the pub, or what?"

belatedly, he remembered he'd promised they'd go out together and watch some football tonight. but, frankly, he much preferred the idea of staying late with you - as he was prone to - if only he could stare a little more.

"'s alright, carl," you said from your desk, looking up from your laptop and offering him a small smile. "i'll lock up after."

he couldn't care less about locking up. he cared more about making sure you got home safe. making sure you’d drank some water and not just four cups of coffee.

“carl?” hardy said again, and he snapped out of it.

“huh?” the flustered detective asked, his gaze snapping from you to his friend. hardy was doing nothing to conceal his grin, which had mørck glaring at him.

“you coming?” his friend teased, hobbling to the ramp. “i won’t wait forever.”

his options bounced around his head for a few seconds. it was surprisingly easy to come to a decision.

“can i take a rain check?” he asked, turning in his spinny chair to face hardy. “i, uh, think i’ve got something. maybe.”

he didn’t need to see hardy’s face to know the amused skepticism he made no effort to conceal. “right,” his friend said, pausing on his crutches. “well, enjoy your night, you two.”

carl shot another glare at him, waiting until hardy returned to hobbling away before he turned back to his computer, unaware of the warm smile stretching your lips as you watched them interact.

soon enough, you were both working quietly again - carl taking the opportunity to stare at you as often as he could - in your little basement department. moira kept promising to allocate their funds to renovating the old shower area into a proper office, but she also had a habit of procrastinating on anything pertaining to department q.

“shall we?”

your soft voice broke carl out of his thoughts, and his gaze snapped up to meet your tired one. even with the shadows smudging your undereyes, you still smiled down at him.

“uh- sure,” he stammered, bolting up from his desk and stumbling against the rickety metal. he righted himself as you reached out to stabilize him, his heart soaring as your warm hand made contact with the skin of his arm.

“you alright?” you asked, tilting your head at him, your hand still on his arm.

he opened his mouth to respond, but his throat was dry, his heart skipping at a mile a minute.

“carl?” you asked him in that warm voice, a small crease forming between your brows.

somehow, he snapped out of it. “yeah- yeah. we can lock up. i’ll- uh- y-you got the keys?”

even with him stumbling over his words like a helpless fool in love, he stayed statue still, willing you to stay touching him as long as possible.

unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and your hand slipped from the warm skin of his arm soon enough as you moved to lock up. he followed you to the door, shrugging on his signature jacket as he walked.

somehow, he managed to talk you into letting him drive you home - in his mind, a small miracle, since you were always stubbornly insistent on making your own way.

having you with him, in his crappy ford that stephen burns was in the process of replacing, was intoxicating, your perfume or cologne or whatever filling the otherwise stale air of the car. his radio played softly, and a peek at you brought an involuntary smile to his face.

you were bobbing your head up and down to the music, lips curving into the shapes of the words soundlessly. your gaze slid from the road to the window and to the radio, and he glanced often enough at you that, if you’d noticed, you would’ve teased him for not paying enough attention to the road.

“have you eaten yet?” he found himself asking, rubbing his thumb over the steering wheel subconsciously.

he felt your confusion in your silence, and he shrugged a shoulder helplessly.

“i just- i noticed you didn’t have a lunch today,” he muttered, glancing at you again, then back at the road. “you worked through the hour. my flat- my lodger can cook. alright. i-if you wanted, i mean, i just-”

in all the months you’d known carl, you’d never known him to stutter. he was sarcastic, brunt, and caring in his own stubborn way.

“carl,” you interrupted, a smile curving your lips as you looked at him. “i’d love to.”

the easy certainty of your words had him mirroring your expression, albeit more surprised. “.. really?” he asked, stopping at a red light and taking the moment to look at you in the dim light of the setting sun.

you met his dark green eyes, your smile still lighting up your face and causing your eyes to crinkle.

“yes, i’m sure,” you said, voice soft. “i’d love to.”

if his heart wasn’t already fit to burst, he might’ve outright gasped at the way you slipped your right hand into his left one. his grip on the wheel did slip, only slightly, but he curled his worn fingers around yours in a way that had your own heart skipping.

a sharp honk behind the two of you had him startling and you giggling. carl shot you a look, a soft glare that he reserved solely for you.

"yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he muttered, easing off the brake and tapping the gas as he changed route to his place instead. his thumb brushed over the warm skin of your hand, as if grounding himself in you.

and hey, if he held your hand beneath the table, that was solely between you. and if his gaze never left yours, even when he was eating, that was between you. and if he brushed his lips against your cheek soft enough it tickled when he dropped you off at your own place, that was also between the two of you.

[chimichema]

Happy Birthday! Oh! Wait, is that blood?

Context: It's Caleb's birthday and although you both had been opening up to each other, there were still so many secrets and words left unsaid.

Tags: fluff, angst, happy ending (yay!), established relationship, mentions and allusions to experimentation (not that kind, the bad kind u freaks lol), physical injuries, arguing (it's not that bad, i swear), birthday fic, reverse comfort, I tried to be realistic here man idk, mentions of Spatium core, set in current timeline, Toring chip also mentioned, multiple sides of Caleb shown (i tried, i think?)

A/N: Hey, so first time actually, oh I don't know, WRITiNG SO MUCH?? Unsure, if the angst is a lot or not actually, a little excited to release it to the world, and if enough people are interested I think the whole project "Lipton" would be great as separate concept (´∩｀。)

Word count: 4.3k

Credit for divider: @/cursed-carmine

A week before.

“Is it really necessary?” His voice held that teasing lilt, his brow cocked as he chuckled at you.

“Come on! I know it’s been years but seriously! What do you want?” You met his gaze slightly annoyed, a bit of a furrowed brow of your own as you tried to be taken seriously.

Caleb’s birthday was coming up, and although it had been literal years since **you two had celebrated his together you felt a wave of nostalgia as the date was quickly approaching.

“Pipsqueak, y’know anythin’ you’ll give me will be treasured by yours truly, seriously! You don’t need to do anything! ” He reiterated once more.

“But I want to! Omg! Caleb, you’re so…argh!” You groaned and quickly turned away from him, a pout forming on your lips at his stubborn insistence.

A mirthful chuckle left his lips as he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin resting between the slope of your neck and shoulder before he whispered teasingly, “I’m serious babe, all I want is for you to be with me, together, just spending some time alone, hm? We’ve already missed out on so much, can’t I just want somethin’ small?”

A press of his lips was followed afterwards, the soft, “Chu” sound that elicited making you warm in seconds. “Caleb…” you managed to mutter, now less annoyed.

“I can…make it more personal I guess, I just wanted something that you’ll enjoy, like when we were kids, y’know?” you bashfully muttered.

“Yea, but this year I just want to spend it with my lovely pipsqueak, rightt here” he hummed against your skin— the drawl that left his lips adding a touch of tenderness to his words—his touch warm and intimate as he flexed his fingers against the supple flesh on your hips before interlacing them with your own hands.

A defeated sigh left your lips at his response, deciding to ultimately pull out the white flag. You admitted defeat, “Fine, just…ok-yea, this is your birthday, so it makes sense we do what you want” a sheepish smile formed as you admitted error. “Sorry for getting carried away like that” you muttered out.

“It’s alright pip, I don’t mind a bit of jibber jabber, especially when it’s about me but just slow down a bit first, okay..?” he added, his voice growing warmer and less serious before giving my hands an affectionate squeeze. His warmth seeping past his chest and onto my back, the small snicker of pride earning a quick, defensive reply, “I do not jibber jabber!”

Caleb: +1 Point

You: -1 Point

3 days left.

It was the following morning, and what should’ve been a bubbling mixture of excitement and anticipation was warred with the impending feelings of nerves and stress.

“Cue for deployment in 30 minutes, I want all witnesses investigated and throughly examined.”

His voice rang through the intercom, his tone calm and collected with finality as he ordered the officers to deploy their aircrafts. Unlike them though, he wasn’t commanding the ship. Instead, he gaze focused on the contract below, it read:

Farspace Fleet Authorization, “Operation Lipton”— Hunters’ Association Intel.

His gaze hardened once more as he read through the contract for the millionth time that night. His knee bouncing repeatedly, his posture tense, and head pounding from the brights lights of his office. The table slightly trembled with each bounce, the whirr of the AC accompanied with the luminescent lights making him wince once he decided to peel his eyes away.

One had to read between the lines, Caleb in particular, knew that it was just another step in Professor Lucious’s plans.

The contract stated the following:

By signing on the line below, the recipient, Caleb Xia is hereby authorizing the clearance of “Operation Lipton”, that of which pertains to infiltrate the Hunters’ Association located in Linkon, China for the purpose of gathering intelligence regarding the ‘Spatium Core’. Allowing officers: Fake Name, Fake Name, Fake Name to go undercover as Hunters for a period of 6 months, each of who will independently report and explain their findings throughout the duration of time. Upon returning, all officers and adjutants will undergo a series of questions and examination (ie. polygraphs) in order to reevaluate their allegience to the Farspace Fleet. In addition, they will also agree to be participants regarding the possible investigation and research into said ‘Spatium Core’.

Finally setting the paper aside, his head tipped back against his seat, a small curse falling from his lips before he directed his attention elsewhere. His eyes scanned the room before ultimately settling where they always did in his times of distress, her.

The small portrait of her he kept on his desk, both of them smiling, holding up their apple shaped plushies they had won at the arcade. He remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. You both looked so happy, his eyes trained on you instead while you smiled for the picture; it had been one of your first dates, and he? Well he was as smitten as one could be. His hand reached for the frame before bringing it closer to him, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth before bringing the glass to his lips.

“Oh pips…” he murmured, his voice just a hair away of worry.

Reluctantly, he set the portrait down before his eyes flickered once more to the contract: what to do, oh what to do.

As his gaze lingered on the piece of paper, his pen laid next to it, the line underneath calling out to him like a vice. He sighed.

It would be so easy, so simple if he could just sign the damn piece of paper, yet not only would that completely go against his morals; if these bastards had any, but they would also hurt her.

As his hand reached over, his finger pressed another button on the intercom. The numbers were punched in one by one, each a reminder of the weight of the situation. He waited patiently as it buzzed in the man on the other side, the hum of the machine surely going off across the other line.

“Ring!”

“Ring!”

“Ring!”

“Caleb?” the other voice on the line picked up. Instantly, the colonel’s lips formed into a thin line, his tone somewhat cordial and collected as he spoke calmly yet veiled with curtness.

“Professor Lucious.” He simply stated, the dull tap of the pen hitting against the table being the only sound heard aside from his voice. “What do you need this time?”, the professor instantly picked up the colonel’s cue, and decided to drop the act as well. “Your ‘physical examination’ isn’t due until another week, and as far as media’s concerned the fleet’s doing just fine.”

“I’m aware, I wanted to discuss the detail’s of ‘Operation Lipton’…it says here that we plan to obtain intelligence regarding the Spatium Core, correct?” A soft breath left his lips as he stared at the words on the contract as they began to blur.

“Yes, don’t you have a copy with you? Why are you bothering me with such questions, haven’t you signed it already?”

“Why does the Farspace Fleet need to concern ourselves with the new Protocore? Aren’t we already making technological leads and leaps when it comes to the modifi-”

“Caleb.”

“Apologies professor….when it comes to the enhancements of the fleet”

A long pause followed afterwards, both men were quiet. Lucious was the first one to speak; his tone simple and to the point, yet Caleb knew better to assume that it wasn’t sinister nor calculated.

“We should meet in person to discuss the details of the project if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Professor-”

“Lets do…3 days from now, so the 13th?” His voice cut in instantly, polite yet leaving no room for argument. The tone one that reminded Caleb that even as the Colonel, he just a lab rat when it came to the professor.

“I-uhm…the 13th?” he swallowed thickly, his voice losing that composed edge he eyes looking elsewhere as he bit back his tongue, Fuck this guy.

“Yes, let's met then, hm? I’ll write it down on my agenda, it seems we need to review our objectives and end goals here Colonel Xia.”

Caleb let out a chuckle, the intercom picked up the hint of wary in his tone as he replied a bit too strained, “Yea, sure—I’ll see what I can do…thank you Professor…”.

With a final goodbye from both men the intercoms system beeped, the silence that followed heavy. A wallow of anxiety coveted by the composure a man of his ranks should have showcasing through the subtle shudder of his body.

Leaning back against his chair, moments passed before his heart rate picked up. His body tense, yet his mind jumbled as he sat there, his thoughts muddled by the anxiety of being in there, in that damn lab again just for something he said and on his birthday?

“Fuck…” he muttered bitterly. His head fell back against the leather seat, hand reaching to tip off his hat and card through the now damp hair.

His adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes now filled with a horrible sense of inpendement.

Caleb’s Birthday.

Caleb’s Birthday.

The decorations were set out, the cake neatly placed upon the coffee table, the blend of the orange and vanilla cream matching perfectly with the silver accents of glitter you had added. The dining room was filled with Caleb’s favorite dishes and a bottle of hard apple cider next to two glasses. A smile left your lips at the scene. I hope he loves it.

With a soft sigh, you looked around the room; everything was perfect.

The myriad of colors within the balloons: orange, cream, and blue. All tied and placed neatly around the living room. In addition, the coffee table had been draped with a beautiful table cover, its pattern simple yet elegant. Not to mention you had brought out your apple plushies: the Honeycrisp red and the Granny Smith green colored ones you had won at the arcade with him. The room held a cozy and lively atmosphere; the lights dimmed just enough to make the room almost glow.

It had taken hours, but it was worth it. Now all that was left to do was put on your birthday outfit and get ready.

…

With a bouquet in hand and the lights turned off, you waited in the dark, your eyes darting to the door ever so often as you heard what you could only assume were Caleb’s footsteps. A shaky sigh leaves you in turn, your nerves gradually increasing as your knee bounces repeatedly.

With your heart pounding and body temperature rising, you finally hear the shuffling of house keys. The clacking and clanging of the metal catching your attention faster than lightning. Without a second thought, you scrambled to the door, a smile prepared before biting back your excitement to wait for the perfect moment to just…

With a soft click, the door begins to open.

“Happy Birthday, Caleb!”

Without thinking, you jump into his arms, your grasp firm as you wrap yourself around him, giggling and smiling like the walking rom-com cliché you swore you’d never become. Yet here you were: bear-hugging the man of your dreams, one who in a few minutes was about to see your week’s hard work all bundled up into today just for him.

“Ah! I’m so excited, baby. Come on, come on!” You exclaimed your birthday wishes filled with glee and maybe more eagerness than he. The man in front of you, however, was too caught up in his world.

The moment you basically tackled him, knocking the wind out of his body and leaving him speechless for a few moments. His body aching with a dull pain from his earlier “meeting” with Professor Lucious, his body weakened by the session, something that he may have intentionally been hiding from you since the start.

What was supposed to be one of the best days of his week, his perfect day celebrating with his lover, his partner, was now tainted by the cruel reminder that even someone as powerful as the colonel was held by puppet strings too. Nothing more than a marionette for Ever and those bastards.

Still, how could he not find that laugh of yours infectious? Even in his weakened state, sweaty, warm, and heavy, he put on a smile for you. His heart momentarily fluttered at how eagerly you had surprised him. Yet, he felt too tired to speak; his reluctance and borderline refusal to authorize the project earlier that week had earned him an early exam and more experimentation. His arms in particular throbbed, his right one almost searing as he felt the unfamiliar fluids they had injected him with course through his bloodstream. And if it weren’t for his uniform, his adjutants would’ve picked up the heavy scent of blood that emanated from him.

After your ramblings had eventually subsided, you began to notice the lack of reply on Caleb’s side. Confused, you pull away just enough to get a good look at him, a small, worried chuckle falling from your lips as you begin to speak, “Caleb? What’s wrong...?” The slightly concerned expression on your face quickly morphed into horror as you caught sight of his state: cold sweat, mussed hair, and… was that blood on his lip?

“Caleb!” you squeaked out instead, your hands scrambling to take off the now tipped hat, your eyes flickering with worry as you scanned him up and down all while he remained completely still, a soft incoherent sound leaving his lips. The weak attempt at humor died in his throat almost immediately upon seeing the look on your face. “No, it’s…fine, baby, just bleedin’ a bit is all...?” The words were laden with humor that eventually trailed off into a sheepish grin.

You were pissed.

Setting the hat to the side, you maneuvered him with ease. Slinging an arm over your shoulder, you decided that questions could wait, not that he seemed in a state to respond. Quickly, you set him on the couch and huffed, a small groan leaving his lips in response, his back slightly sore as he hit the pillows with a “Thump!”

“Stay here and take off the uniform, you sighed, a frown forming at the sight of him. Caleb nodded, his eyes looking elsewhere before he tried to explain or change the subject. His lips parted, and before he could utter a word, you furrowed your brow, pissed, “Not now, I’m mad, Caleb, but not now just…just take off your uniform, ok?” you muttered a bit firmer than you had intended. Turning on your heel, you beelined it to the restroom, quickly opening the cabinet for the first aid kit, painkillers, and a fresh set of clothes.

Caleb had a knack for diversion and defecting, something he often did when you had found out one of his secrets or when moments grew particularly vulnerable, and although both of you had made significant progress regarding that area in your relationship, there was still so much your boyfriend left unsaid. He was strong, yes, that much was obvious, but the man also bit off more than he could chew. And now, as his lover and best friend since childhood, it was up to you to unravel all those layers of pain he had left and still leaves hidden. Just like he did with you.

The moment you were out of sight and entered the bathroom, Caleb let out a low grunt. His body, feeling the aftermath of having needles and being tested over and over, pushed to his limits to not end. His head throbbed, the Toring Chip warring with his mind as he tried to relax and resist all at once. Shakily, his hands took off his coat; the clammy fingers tugged at the leather lapels.

With another dull “Thump!” the heavy leather coat fell onto the floor, the thick material slightly stained with dried droplets of blood. Next, he began to undo his dress shirt, some buttons harder to undo than others due to previously being mismatched. He had been frantic to leave, the session much more intense than he had anticipated, his clumsy attempts to redress himself leaving him looking amused and frazzled.

Now, his fingers felt numb, the heat of his body throbbed, and his fingers felt swollen and numb as he undid each button, one by one. “Shit…this is bad; she’s gonna kill me… “ he hissed under his breath, a soft, almost quiet, stifled whimper leaving his lips while he slipped off the thin, white fabric. This time, his hands accidentally brushed a bruise, and his face momentarily contorted with pain.

It felt unbearable.

Finally, a fresh wave of cool air hit his skin, a mixture of lingering sting and relief crashing through his body as he finally slumped against the couch, now only dressed in his slacks and work shoes.

He had never told her—at least not explicitly—that he was being experimented on by Ever; however, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had known by now. Her determination knew no bounds when it regarded him. As his thoughts began to wander, he found himself chuckling softly, his voice mingled with humor and a sense of pity, “I feel like we’re starting to rub off on each other, pipsqueak…“

Finally, you had gotten everything you needed; emerging from the bathroom, you held the first aid kit and a few other materials in order to clean him up. Giving yourself a few minutes to collect yourself and the rampant thoughts that began to crawl their way onto your frontal lobe, you sighed.

The reflection of yourself in the mirror, serious and alarmed, coupled with a party dress and an updo, well…looks like the night was full of (horrible) surprises.

Sauntering out of the bathroom, you made your way over to Caleb, materials in hand and a soft, worried expression on your face. Yet, the moment your eyes landed on his body, you felt your heart almost leap out of your chest. Sure, you had fought countless Wanderers, and given your profession, you were no stranger to the blood and injuries that accompanied it, but…

Your lips slightly parted, and the moment Caleb met your gaze, he looked away, ashamed.

“It’s not that bad, pipsqueak, just a few bruises here and there…and the gash,” he muttered out.

“What are those?” You prompted, your voice tense, your eyes narrowing in as they landed on the gash on his left hip. The mark was an open wound; my eyes widened as he tried to reason.

“Look, I know it looks bad, but I can deal with it myself. It’s just a minor injury. The fleet deals with this all the time; the only reason I didn’t get it checked out was because the day was over and I didn’t want to keep you waiting."

“Stop lying, Caleb! We’ve been through this multiple times. It’s—hah! It’s like you don’t even realize how your actions affect me.” I quickly stepped closer and kneeled, ignoring the ache in my knees as I slowly pulled his hand away from the gash.

“Oh my god…Oh my god..” Your eyes widened as you took in the scene, your voice a stunned murmur as the shock hit your system like a cold bucket of water.

“Baby, what happened?” You breathed out before bringing your hand to your mouth, unable to believe what you were seeing.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he spoke, his voice holding a hint of resolve as he looked at me with a slightly furrowed brow. Whether it was out of stubbornness or pain? You weren’t sure.

“This is the fleet’s doing, isn’t it?” You replied, a hint of bitterness in my tone.

“I’m so sick of this, of you hiding things for the sake of my safety. Caleb, you forget that your pain affects me too, and on your birthday?”

A sigh left your lips, your features slowly contorting with despair as you grew increasingly upset.

“Do you ever stop and think that seeing you like this, knowing you’re hiding things from me when I tell you everything—when you know everything about me—doesn’t hurt me? Doesn’t upset me?” You brought your hand to yourself, a mixture of anguish and worry in your tone.

“I thought we moved past this. I thought—” you paused to take a deep breath. Swallowing thickly, you decided now was not the time, not when it was his birthday, not when you had planned everything down to the table covers.

“Look, here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m going to clean you up, we are going to relax and unwind, and you are going to enjoy your birthday and celebrate with me, ok? Ok.” You didn’t wait for a response; your voice slightly wavered as you caught yourself on the verge of tears.

“I…” He looked into your eyes wide, donning that expression where one could tell he wanted to say more, that he wanted to spill everything out, but instead he nodded and went quiet.

“Ok, baby,” he sighed, a wry smile managing to lift the corners of his lips instead, and slowly lifted his arm, the movement heavy and stiff as he made way for me to bandage his wound. A small nod was all you gave in acknowledgement before turning your attention to the kit. In a few minutes bandages, disinfectant, and cotton swabs were all opened out alongside a soothing ointment.

…

Slowly the wound was bandaged up, the room eerily quiet, the only sound being the hum of the ice machine, the occasional rustle, and the sounds that left Caleb ever so often as I prodded and treated him.

“Tell me if it hurts, ok?” You mumbled, your voice slightly muffled due to your posture. You were in an awkward position: your head basically hooked over his thigh as you settled between his knees, your arms at an awkward angle and slightly lifted. Regardless, you did the best that you could, your deft fingers working to disinfect, clean, and treat him to the best of your ability.

As you went through all the steps, you made sure to meticulously swab the healing ointment onto the gash, careful to not brush along the edges or apply too much pressure. Allowing the open and somewhat dried tissue to finally have a moment of respite while Caleb leaned his head against the couch himself.

“Yea, mhm…” he groaned out, his eyes fluttering shut, a hand on his stomach as he tried to settle down. Although he was relatively quiet, his body told a different story. No matter how much he tried to act tough, his thighs and muscles tensed, his core a bit too engaged as he made an effort to keep quiet.

“That’s it, baby, don’t worry…almost done…” you added, hoping your words of comfort would at least make him feel safe. Sometimes, you would pause, your hands stilling before you would steal the occasional glance at him.

After a few minutes, you pulled away with a satisfied sigh, your hands sliding down to your lap before giving a small stretch.

Your body is slightly sore from being in the janky position for a while. Before looking back up at him, you decided to place the materials back into the kit first. Your voice was content and like a coo as you broke the silence.

“Well, now that that’s over, we can at least celebrate your birthday, hm? I made some of your favorite dishes, and the cake took forever!” You chuckled to yourself, your fingers clasping the kit before setting it to the side.

“Not to mention the gifts that I bought you! Look, I know the night came off to a rough start, but seriously, tonight is all about you…” A delighted hum left you before you met his gaze, your eyes slightly widening as you came face to face with his Adam’s apple instead, “Hm? Caleb? Baby?” you asked, confused due to his lack of response (again) but less worried.

With a small groan of protest, Caleb lowered his head and made eye contact with you, his expression one of fatigue and fondness. “Hm? I’m here, I’m here…” he groaned and languidly reached to pet the top of your head. His fingers slowly and almost drowsily carding through your fingers: a sign of appreciation.

“Did you hear anything that I just said?” You felt that familiar smile of your own start to form on the corners of his lips as his voice rang in your ears.

“No…not really,” he laughed and met your gaze, his head slightly tilting to the side before he slid his hand to cup your cheek. “Thank you though, really…I mean it,” he murmured, his eyes filled with that adoring glint, and his brows slightly furrowed before he added, his tone much more lighthearted, “and for my birthday party too.” He gestured with a nod to the rest of the living room.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how much effort you put into our night, or—well, what was supposed to be”, he gave a small shrug and stroked the contours of your face with his thumb pad, his calloused skin brushing against the soft, supple flesh of yours.

“Yea, well, we didn’t exactly get to celebrate it,” I murmured, a bit disappointed yet amused.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I spent it with you, didn’t I? That’s all I ever wanted, baby.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead. The action earns a soft and delighted sound to leave your lips as he lingers.

“Really?” You meet his gaze, wide and open, as you recount the events of the night. Even now, all battered and treated, Caleb still made sure you were accounted for; the thought brought a smile to your face.

“Really.”

“Caleb?”

“Yea, pipsqueak?”

“Happy Birthday.”

Extra Note: Tell me what you think! I'd like to grow as a writer so feedback is greatly appreciated! ٩(ˊᗜˋ )و

[goatcheesecak3]

Could you possibly write something small about a beach date with Rodrick 😍

Rodrick x reader

Sorry this took so long! Me mam tried to sell me to one direction so I was slightly preoccupied 🙄

Anyways enough jibber jabber, here's a lil fluff about a beach date with Rodrick :^)

The heffleys had invited you on a trip to the beach, since you and Rodrick had been together for some time now, it was pretty much routine for you to come along to family events at this point.

You and Rodrick drove in his van separately from everyone else, truth be told, you were relieved. You loved the heffleys but you weren't so keen on the music they played in the car.

"You excited babe?" Rodrick turned to look at you

"Can't wait! I was looking up the beach on Google, there's quite a few rock pools so we might see some cool sealife!"

Rodrick's face lit up at this

"Like a crab?!" He asked

"Yes honey, like a crab" you smiled at your easily amused boyfriend.

"Awesome. I fucking love crabs" he said.

Upon arrival Susan and Frank were happy to see the pair of you, they both approached to greet you, when seemingly out of nowhere Greg appeared, flinging his arms around you.

"Hey lil dude! Nice to see you" You beamed down at him

"Great to see you too! I've got all the stuff set up!" He replied excitedly

You were confused for a second, before looking just past him and seeing an abundance of different sized buckets and spades. You finally remembered, last time you'd seen the Heffleys you'd promised Greg you'd be on his team against Rodrick for a sandcastle building competition.

"Rodrick I love you, but you are so going down" you said, playfully poking him in the ribs before running off to the equipment with Greg.

"Hey no fair! You guys don't get a head start!" He called after the two of you.

The sandcastle competition was definitely pretty tense, you and Greg had opted for a "bigger = better" strategy, and had come up with a 3 storey castle.

Rodrick's, while much smaller, was more detail oriented. He'd decorated it with little stones, and even carved out little battlements.

When the time was up, the three of you went to get Susan and Frank to judge, but when you'd returned only one castle was left.  It would appear that Manny had decided that Rodrick's Castle was the perfect race course for one of his toy trucks, and in the few seconds you were all gone, he'd reduced it to rubble.

"Ha! We won!" Greg jeered.

You looked at Rodrick, who seemed genuinely disappointed.

"Aw baby," you stroked his arm, "I think your castle was Manny's favourite at least"

He smiled slightly at this, but still seemed slightly miffed that all his hard work was ruined.

Never mind, you knew exactly how to cheer him up

"How about we go check out those rock pools?" You asked.

Rodrick grinned excitedly, immediately forgetting about the sand castle, "oh yeah! I hope we see something cool!" He beamed, grabbing your hand and eagerly pulling you in the direction of the rocks.

You carefully climbed onto the glistening wet rocks, made just that bit more treacherous by the odd bit of seaweed and sharp barnacles. You held onto Rodrick tightly, fearing that his clumsy self would slip and accidentally keelhaul himself.

(A/n if you don't know what keelhaulling is, look it up at your own risk. It's pretty gnarly).

"What are those things?" Rodrick asked curiously, pointing towards tufts of purple sticking out from the sides of the rock pools.

"Sea anemones! Be really gentle and touch them, see what happens" you encouraged him.

Rodrick looked slightly nervous, but he trusted you. He dipped his finger into the shallow water and felt the tiny tentacles grip his finger. He giggled high pitch and very amused, before pulling his hand away and shaking it dry.

"It was like, sticky?" He said

You laughed at his reaction, he was adorable when he was confused.

"That was it trying to eat you! It thought your finger was a little fish!"

"Really?!"

"Mhm"

"That's so funny," he bent down to look at the anemone, "you're no match for me little bro" he said cockily.

You were unsure as to whether he was joking, or if he was genuinely proud of not being eaten by a gelatinous blob the size of a penny. Probably the latter, knowing Rodrick, but either way you find it endearing.

You spent quite a while trapesing around the rock pools, Rodrick seemingly fascinated by everything- particularly the little clusters of sea snails. He likened their pointy shells to his studded bracelet, affectionately giving them the title of "most metal animal he'd seen all day". His day was made, however, when you called him over to a tiny pool right at the edge of the rocks.

"Baby, come quick!"

He rushed over, abandoning the clump of seaweed he'd been popping like bubblewrap, and turned his attention towards what you'd been pointing at.

There, nestled inbetween a few tufts of seaweed, sat the tiniest little crab, it's body not much bigger than the tip of a pinky finger. As Rodrick kneeled down to get a closer look, his face was graced with a wide, goofy smile. He looked between you and the crab for a few seconds, before blurting out "it's a little baby!", his voice high and girlish.

You let out a chuckle at this, watching your boyfriend's eyes grow in amazement and glee at the sight of such a small crab. His attention was fixed to it for as long as it sat there, until the crab must have decided that staring back at the squealing Rodrick had become tedious, and scuttled away under some pebbles.

Rodrick finally stood once again, and reached out to hold your hands.

"That was so cool," he said, his eyes twinkling and his smile somehow even more loveable than ever.

"You're so cute," you replied, unable to contain your adoration any longer. You placed your arms over his shoulders, while instinctively, Rodrick held your waist.

You leaned in and planted a delicate kiss on his lips. Sometimes it was hard to remember he was a hardcore punk guy with a big beat up van, and an affinity for moshing. At times like this, all you saw was an innocent, precious sweetheart. You just wanted to hold his face and pepper it with gentle kisses, while showering him with compliments like "my handsome boy," and "you're the cutest thing in the whole world". You probably would later, but not right now. He'd never live it down if his family saw him being such a big softie.

You allowed yourself to get lost in his big brown eyes for a moment longer, before you heard Frank calling the two of you to come and get some food.

I love you, you thought to yourself as Rodrick carefully guided you down the rocks. As if he could read your mind, he threw an arm round your shoulder and whispered in your ear

"I love you, y/n"

A/n requests are open! I write hcs and short fics for a couple characters, check my pinned post for details! :^)

(Pls request something I need ideas lol)

[bookie-bookdust]

✨WIP Wednesday (but it's Thursday and I'm late again woops)

Thank you for the tag @amethystandemma 🥰

I'm finally working on part 2 of How to Defuse a Ravenclaw (I know it's been two months loloolol. Sorry smutty crack fic is hard - pun intended).

MDNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 18+

Ominis had been talking about Salazar knew what for a good twenty minutes when Seb sensed the shift. It felt as if all the merriment of the Great Hall had been sharpened into a Sebastian-shaped ax. He suppressed a smirk, poking his soup with his spoon. He dared a peek, and he spotted her fuming from the Ravenclaw table, gripping a fork a bit too tightly to be normal. Ominis stopped his jabbering. “What did you do?” “Hm?” “My wand can sense all this, you know.” He motioned back and forth between the tables. “What happened?” Sebastian clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “I may have added some new items to the Defuse the Ravenclaw list.” Ominis raised his brow. “Like what?” “Watch out for biting.” Ominis’s face screwed up. “Well, of course, I suppose. Saliva can carry all sorts of diseases. What else?” Sebastian would have laughed if he wasn’t starting to hum with nervous energy. How was he partially turned on but also terrified to have her shooting him a death glare? “To, uh, not,” he lowered his voice, “fuck her.” Ominis nearly leapt from his seat. “Excuse me?” “Though I’ve decided that rule is for you and not for me because I will definitely be doing that.” “Eugh.” Ominis shivered. “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.” “She started it.” Seb glowered. And then didn’t finish him. “Whatever foreplay this is, just keep it out of the public. I’m not going to be associated with the two of you making fools of yourselves.” “This was never really planned to be a threesome so.” Ominis turned nearly purple. “That’s enough. I’m changing the subject.”

Tagging: @anomalyaly @gingerlegacy07 @morelikeravenbore @endless-starlight-legacy @polarisgreenley and whoever else would like to play!

[finnickfan8]

“Thank you”

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort and smut

Warnings: smut, mentions of trafficking (very brief)

Your husband never slept well, so when he did you knew not to interrupt his one sense of peace. You loved hearing his soft snores and little noises as he nuzzled against you. Sometimes he would talk in his sleep babbling on about nothing, that’s how you knew Finnick, your Finnick is in a state of serenity.

His skin was velvet despite the scars and callouses that add a nice contrast in texture to the cashmere of his sun-kissed skin. His ambrosial scent was intoxicating and it filled your nose and then your mind with bliss.

The angelic man began to stir, his breath become more ragged and unsynchronized with your own. Finnick’s once somewhat swarthy knuckles became pale as he clutched the sheets near your waists. His nose twitched and his mouth dropped to let out a little ‘no.’ Finnick was in danger you knew it.

You stroked his messy tufts out of his face and shushed him, hoping to lull him back to sleep. To your avail he tosses over before flailing back in to you. You hold him still and start humming lullabies to him. “Shhhhh Finny, it’s me. It’s Y/N. You’re safe and I’m safe.” He starts to wake up and raises his tear stained face from your chest.

“We gotta go, the Jabber Jays, they have your screams. I’m so sorry.” He cries in to you, clutching your shirt. “I’m supposed to be here for you and here your ‘strong’ husband is, whining in your eyes like a child.” His sobs continue, the emasculation furthering as he cries in to you.

“Shhhhh, Finn, you know that’s not true. I love how you comfort me.” you pull his head up to look at you as tears rush from his sea green orbs. “Now it’s my turn to comfort you. What’s wrong, handsome?” He breaks eye contact and sits up.

“I saw them. The people i’ve killed, the people i’ve been sold to, and you. What I had done to them, the terrible, horrible things, was being done to you.” He pulls you up to sit between his legs, stroking his fingers through it, separating strands. “You were alone in the games, Jabber Jays screaming at you as the tributes took their turns taking a go at you in both ways. I stood there unable to do anything.” He shuddered a bit, braiding your hair to try to calm himself down.

“That would never happen, you have always protected me.” You smiled weakly at the love of your life, trying to reassure him but not knowing how. His hands go from your hair to your thighs, running them up and down.

“You’re always here for me and I want to thank you.” He trailed off, playing with the seams of your shorts. “Only if you want me to, because consent is very important.” He smiles down at you, kissing your forehead.

“You don’t have to use your body to thank me, Finnick. I wouldn’t marry you if all I liked was your body.” You were sure this was something he was taught to do in The Capitol, and you didn’t want him to feel like he had to.

“No, please.” He looked at you with glossy eyes. “I want to thank you this way. What do you say, Love?” You nod happily, knowing he did enjoy making you happy. Before you knew it, you were strewn in the middle of the bed and legs on Finnicks shoulders as his tongue took a lap around the inner edge of your labia.

Long strokes of his tongue went around the edge of your cunt as he avoided your clit, teasing you. A strangled moan escaped you as he flicked his tongue against your clit before going back to making zigzags across your pussy with a flat tongue.

His tongue dips in, slightly, just rimming you. His actions were so painfully teasing. “Please Finnick.” you whined, grabbing a fistful of his hair. Finnick obliged, kissing your clit gently. He started to suck and roll his tongue over the small bud. The way he used his mouth drove you crazy, within minutes, your legs were shaking and you were mewling.

“You look so pretty.” Finnick breathed out before kissing your cunt, looking up as you as he inched his long finger in to you. You moaned his name, feeling the stretch of his finger gliding in to your walls. “You’re doing so well.”

He starts to move his finger inside of you, slowly in and out as his thumb circles your clit. his mouth starts to kiss up to your breasts, taking one in his mouth and gently circling the nipple of the other. His thumb on your delicate nipple, flicked it up and down as he desperately sucked your other breast.

He pulls off with a ‘pop’ and adds another finger. Your cunt clenches around him as his nimble fingers find your spongy G spot. Finnick abuses that spot, hitting it over and over until you’re begging him.

“Please Finnick, it’s so good you’re so good. ” You choke out and he grunts in response. He was so focused on making you cum. He switched which hand was in you and moved the other, slightly lubricated one, to your nipple, toying it up and down.

“You’re so perfect baby, come on show me how good I make you feel.” His mouth lands back on to your clit, sending you over the edge.

You moan out, tugging at Finnick’s bronze locks as he relentlessly shoves his fingers in to you at a seemingly supersonic pace. Your orgasm is long and drawn out. For the first time, you squirt and in to Finnick’s mouth at that. He pulls you in to a quiet kiss, showing his love.

“Such a good girl for me my love. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Finnick begins to go get a towel to while you up with when you pull his wrist.

“Nope, your turn.”

[writeroutoftime]

hi!! can i request a jamie one shot- with introducing the reader to the coaches and making it a big deal

words: 690

a/n: okay, I just love the idea of ted and all the coaches being such an important part of jamie's life that introducing his s/o to them is such a big step!! hopefully this is what you were looking for, sorry for the wait, but please enjoy!

oOoOo

"Babe, don't you think I should be the one who's more nervous here?" you teased, watching your boyfriend of two months psych himself up inside his car for the third time in the past ten minutes.

"I know, I know." Jamie tried to reassure himself. "You shouldn't be nervous at all. It's just their opinion means a lot to me."

Your heart melted slightly at Jamie's confession. Of course, this was an important step in your relationship to him. There weren't many positive, male figures in Jamie's life, and you were happy he had found some in his coaches.

"Well," you began slowly. "I'm really excited to meet them. And it means a lot to me that you even want to introduce me."

"'Course I wanna introduce you, babe. Gotta show everyone how lucky I am." Jamie smirked, coming back to his usual self.

A laugh bubbled past your lips, and you leaned over to interlock your fingers with Jamie's, pressing a reassuring kiss to his knuckles. "Lead the way, then."

oOoOo

Once you got Jamie out of the car, it didn't take him long to drag you through the dog track and towards the gaffer's office. From afar, you could see four men huddled together, and you suddenly felt your heart begin to race. If Jamie had been feeling nervous, you were ten times more nervous to meet some of his role models.

"Jamie Tartt!" Ted's voice called out, alerting everyone to your presence before you could run away. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Well, uh, just wanted to stop by and introduce my partner here." he said, gesturing towards you as if presenting an award.

Beard and Ted shared a knowing look before turning their attention back to you and Jamie. Ted reached forward, grinning from ear to ear with his arm outstretched. "Well, howdy there. It's a real pleasure to meet the person Jamie's been jabbering on about. I'm Ted."

"Oh, of course I know who you are, Coach Lasso. It's an honor to meet you, all of you, in fact." you admitted, slightly bashful.

"None of that Coach business. Just Ted is fine." he insisted. "And, uh, this here is Beard, Nate the Great, and I'm sure you also know Mr. Roy Kent himself." Ted explained, suddenly leaning in towards you. "I promise he ain't as scary as he looks."

You couldn't help but let out a giggle, suddenly feeling much more comfortable in Ted's presence. Eventually, you and Jamie leant against the wall, getting to know four of the people who inspired such positive change in your boyfriend.

At one point, Jamie left to take a call, leaving you alone with his coaches. A comfortable silence fell over the group before Ted looked up at you with a comforting smile, words of wisdom ready to pour from his lips.

"I gotta say, it's been real nice to meet ya, y/n. I wasn't joking when I said Jamie's always mentioning you. And, now I don't mean to lecture, and I'm sure it goes without saying, but Jamie's a really special person. I know his past might be a bit dicey, but he's really put in the work to be his authentic self. And I think I speak for all of us when I say to take care of him, okay?" Ted asked, with Bread, Nate, and Roy all nodding their heads in agreement.

Tears began to prick at your eyes, so you bit your lip and nodded your head in agreement. "I promise." you whispered, so happy to be apart of Jamie's team.

Seconds later, the man in question popped his head back in the office and took note of the change in tone. "Everything all good in here?" he questioned a bit wearily.

"It's perfect." you reassured, reaching out to grab his hand once more.

And so, you said your goodbyes, promised to stop by for the next home game, and walked out with Jamie the same way you walked in - hand in hand. This time, feeling a little closer to the man you loved and who you were grateful to know.

[alastor-simp-page]

Charlastor Week 2024: The Princess and the Cat

HELL YEAH GUYS! CHARLASTOR DAY 1 IS HERE! And its Cursed Cat Charlastor for the prompt!!!

I decided to do a Princess and the Frog type thing: cursed-ish edition. I'm so sorry.

Alastor is turned into a Cursed Cat Alastor and the curse can only be broken if he kisses a princess. Otherwise, the only princess in Hell: Charlie. Chaos ensues.

Alastor disliked Susan. No, more than disliked…despised that old bitch. However thankfully he had created a useful system to avoid said bitch: the AL system. Yes, simple, he knows. It could simply be a sentence but no, he insisted on naming it after himself.

The first step is: abort. Abort the situation at all costs. And if that fails which it usually does no matter how many times he tries to slink away. The second step: laugh it off with the woman until she finally leaves him alone. Neither of these were working at the moment as the old woman was jabbering her head off mingled spit with words and all. 

The AL system was unfortunately not flawless. And Rosie wasn’t flawless either. Rather a traitor is what he should call her. “Alastor, you know I really gotta get going. The Emporium calls.” She tapped him on the shoulder, sauntering away but not before he grabbed her wrist.

“No, Rosie, you can’t leave me with…” Alastor’s crimson eyes glanced back to Susan who was now jabbing her cane at him, “with this!” 

Rosie’s black eyes crinkled as she held back a laugh. All she did was lean in and peck him on the cheek before giving him a little wave, “Toot-a-loo, Alastor.” She called before hurrying down the sidewalk to the Emporium.

Ugh. Alastor scoffed. The audacity of that woman. He loved her all the same but, well…he had abandoned her the last time the pair had an encounter with the all too charming Susan. Fair enough. 

He grumbled as Susan fixed her glasses on her nose and quizzed, “You getting cozy with the princess of Hell, Bambi? Eh?” The words fell off her upheld tongue like poison onto the sidewalk. A few cannibals on the side of the road turned their heads at her words. His stomach flipped over and twisted in his insides. 

Instead, he tilted his head, “Well, she’s my business partner. Nothing more, nothing less, Susan.” He shifted on his loafers, his gaze shifting to the blinking sign in the far distance of the Hotel. Pink lights against the eternally blazing sky of Hell.

Thud. He stumbled a few feet back, dazed and confused until he saw her extended cane. The nerve of her! Did she jab him with her cane? She spat, “You’re a fool, Alastor. A goddamn fool.” The old bitch huffed, adjusting her feathered hat and glaring at her from behind her glasses, “You know, I like you even if you’re a bit dense.”

Confusion flooded his senses. Was he supposed to be flattered or insulted? It was perhaps better if he didn’t know which. He wasn’t a fool nor was he dense, yet he knew better than to have a loose tongue. The last time a demonic Susan had ripped through that wrinkled skin and squinty eyes it wasn’t pleasant, at all. Alastor would never admit it to a soul, but it was terrifying even. There was a reason why Susan was the head of the town: the ultimate ruthless cannibal.

“How do you feel about cats, kid?” Susan wrinkled her nose, studying him through the eyeglasses. This woman was endlessly confusing. Switching subjects like a broken radio station. He’d grown used to her strange habits unfortunately. 

“I hate them.” Alastor said plainly, arching a brow at her. If anyone was a cat person, it had to be this crazy old woman. Only a cat could endure the hardship of a woman such as Susan: the art of simply tolerating. 

“Good.” Susan grinned. Oh. Oh no. Susan grinning? In a panic, shadows started to wreath around his figure in a vain attempt to escape yet it was too late. 

Crimson light grasped his ankles dragging him down into the pavement. A strange sensation washed over him as if his atoms were being pulled apart and put together again. A jigsaw puzzle made of ten different puzzles, fitting pieces that didn’t fit together.

He blinked. The world felt a bit bigger. And he was met with a horrifying sight: Susan’s hairy ankles. A small screech escaped him as he scrambled back on his legs. Legs? Something was strange. More fur than usually scratched at him. 

An ice chilling cackle split any of the confusion in two. Susan squatted down and tapped him on the nose, cooing at him, “Aren’t you an ugly looking thing.” A mirror was grasped in her too long fingers, and she presented it to him, “Take a look.”

✽ 

“CHARLE! CHARLIE THERE’S A WERID ASS FUCKING CAT OUTSIDE!” The screaming awoke her. There was no mistake that it was Angel Dust’s voice. At this point it was routine. She blinked a few times as the light streamed across her bed, caressing her with its warm glow. Charlie groaned, sitting up in her bed and kicking on some fluffy slippers. 

No rest for the wicked, she supposed, perks of being the Princess of Hell. She stumbled out of the door into the empty hallway, half awake, and half asleep. That tired fogginess still clouded her brain as she dragged herself down the stairs.

She could handle a weird cat. At least Niffty hadn’t started another fire. Charlie didn’t know how many more coffee machines she could afford if that kept up. Her Dad might finally cut the trust fund.

“What? What! I’m here. What’s wrong?” Charlie almost flopped onto the floor as she dragged herself towards the crowd around the door. The carpet was soft enough that she wanted to curl up on it and go nap again. Well, she was the hotelier. Wait, she scanned the various heads of her guests. Where is Alastor? 

She frowned but still pushed her way through. So much for him handling “crisis duty” while she took a much-needed nap. Angel Dust let out a breath as he saw Charlie emerge, “Thank God, you’re here Charlie. What the fuck do we do with this?” He pointed a finger at the problem sitting on their doormat.

Charlie blinked once. Twice. It was a cat. Yes, a weird one, an appropriate description. It had an almost pomegranate colored fur and little black colored “socks” on its feet and far too fuzzy ears. It’s too wide crimson eyes glared up at her with one monocle placed under its right eye. A golden smile stretched across its face. It looked…familiar. She tilted her head at the sight. It was…weird but cute. 

Without thinking twice, she scooped up the little demonic cat in her arms. Vaggie screeched beside her, holding out a hand, “Charlie!” 

Something warm pooled in her heart as she looked at its too wide eyes. “Awww!” Charlie clutched the strange looking cat close to her chest, nuzzling her head into the top of its head. “You’re a little cutie, aren’t you?” She cooed.

“Put me down.” Something said. No, someone? Something? 

Charlie lifted her head, staring around at everyone. “Did someone say something?” Angel Dust looked to Husk who looked to Vaggie who then looked to Niffty. A shrug was the universal answer.  

“PUT ME DOWN!” The voice hissed louder. 

“Uh…I think the cat just talked,” Angel Dust stared wide eyed at the demonic bundle in her arms. 

“What?” Charlie looked down at the cat. Its smile was stretched thin, its ears all the way back.

And it spoke through its golden smile. “PUT ME DOWN!”

“GAHHHHH!” Charlie screamed as she dropped the cat like a sack of potatoes and stumbled a few steps back. A loud yell accompanied the chaos as everyone scrambled away from the demonic thing. 

To be continued underneath...

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Wild's Wolf (Modern AU): Febuwhump Day 15--Who did this to you?

When they escaped the compound in a sprint and piled into Time’s rusted old truck, peeling out of the dimly lit parking lot with a shriek of rubber against concrete, he did the first thing he always did when he got himself into trouble. 

He called Malon.

Time’s knuckles blanched white around the steering wheel as the phone rang all the way through on the first try, as well as the second and the third. On the fourth ring, she finally picked up.

“Link.” Her sleepy voice warbled through the phone’s old speaker. She sounded… pissed. “What’re you doing, calling at two in the morning? Why aren’t you in bed? When did you slip out? Where are you?”

“Sorry dear, a work thing came up—”

“—Who’s talking?” came the frightened bark from the backseat. “Where’s ‘at voice a’coming from? Mr. Time?”

“—do you have someone with you, honey?” Malon asked, sounding fractionally more alert now. There was a shifting on the other side of the line, likely Malon pushing back the covers and rising out of bed. “What’s going on? What in the world did they say?”

“Don’t worry about it, kid, it’s just my wife,” Time said lowly, then raised his voice to be heard over the speaker. “Yes, sweetheart, listen. I’d love to answer all of your questions when I see you. I’ll be home in about thirty minutes.”

Time glanced up into the rear-view mirror. The agency hadn’t given chase, not yet anyways, given the dark, empty highway road stretching out behind them. The wolf boy—Twilight, Time had gathered after their most recent conversations, not just Wolf —cradled Wild in his arms, braced awkwardly against the movements of the car and looking every bit a caged animal as he watched the world speed by outside the car’s dusty windows. Wild himself lay slack and quiet across the backseat, dried blood spilling over his pale face from the gash at his hairline. Time wasn’t sure if he was fully conscious or not—his torn hospital gown made it hard to tell if he was even alive, the way it washed him out. 

Malon said nothing to his dismissal, patiently waiting for some explanation in the crackling silence. “We’re, uh…” Time broke at last as he turned his eyes to the road.  “We’re going to be having some… guests this morning. Would you mind to prepare the guest bedroom? And get out that old med kit you’ve got in the top of the dresser, while you’re at it. And that bag of chocolates in my desk drawer.”

“The med kit? Are you hurt?” Malon’s next words were low, tense. “And just who are the guests you’re bringing home with you?” A heavy sigh. “What have you gotten yourself into now, Fairy Boy? ”

Time winced. “Nothing—nothing bad,” he lied through his teeth as he again checked the rear-view mirror. Still no cars tailing him, yet. Good. But they knew where he lived. His house would be the first place they checked, if they decided to come after him despite his threats to go to the news about their whole secret human experimentation project. “M-m-make sure that the boys stay in bed, Malon, we can explain things to them in the morning. And don’t forget those chocolates.”

“Alright, Link.” A heavy sigh rang out from the other end of the line. “You better know what you’re doing.”

Click!

Time resisted the urge to slam his own forehead against the steering wheel. “Oooooh, she’s gonna be so upset about this,” he said to the empty air. “I’m going to be out in the doghouse for a month.”

“You did not tell me that your wife is a fierce goddess, Mr. Time,” Twilight whispered, wide-eyed. Those long ears of his stood pricked up and alert, nearly completely upright as they swiveled as if to catch her voice again. “That she may use her powerful influence to project her holy presence to our lowly senses, whilst she is absent from this place of being herself? And yet you dare to incur her wrath upon yourself, so much so that she shall transform you into a lowly dog? What offering must we make to appease her fury?”

Aaaaaaand that was their jabber nuts reaching the time limit of their magic. “No, she’s not a goddess, and that’s just a figure of speech.” Time restrained himself from making a joking comment about her in regards to that—he’d just confuse the boy more. He dug into the sack of candies in his front shirt pocket and passed two jabber nuts back, careful to keep one eye on the road. “Take another one of these. See if Wild will eat one as well.” 

Twilight hummed suspiciously, muttering something to himself that Time could no longer parse out without the jabber nut’s magic, but took the chocolate candies from his palm. Time popped another one into his own mouth just as headlights appeared on the horizon behind them. He veered off the nearest exit and turned on the winding road that led through the woods and eventually, to the farm.

“D’you reckon he’ll be alright, sir?” Twilight asked a few quiet minutes later. “He’s lookin real hurt back here. Ain’t woken up once since we hightailed it out of that curs’ed place.”

Time smiled at the sudden difference in the sound of his voice. The jabber nuts were funny in that they not only translated the meaning of a person’s words, but they also conveyed how that person’s words would come across to a native speaker. Not only did that mean tone indicators such as sarcasm—underneath the jabber nut’s magic, Time did not hear that upwards lilt of an interrogative with Twilight’s question, perhaps their language had a specific word that signified such a thing—but it also imbued an accent, when applicable. For Wild, his voice was an unremarkable American English, which meant he likely spoke the most common iteration of their language. For Twilight, the jabber nut’s magic chose to give him a deep, drawling southern accent. Perhaps he had originally been a farmer, or he hailed from a stereotypically less educated corner of their home country, or maybe he was just from a rural area. Time could only guess what the magic had picked up on. The academic, professorly side of him noted it as something to look into more deeply later.

“I’m sure that he’ll be fine, he just needs to sleep off whatever they did to him,” Time said smoothly. But the vicious blow to the Wild’s head and the jerking of his thin body from the electricity's effects after those researchers had shocked him for daring to fight back—it might take a little bit more than a good night’s sleep to heal. “Malon—that’s my wife who you heard talking earlier—will fix him right up, I’m sure of it.”

“So, I reckon I did understand that right, earlier—that’s where you’re taking us? To your wife?” Twilight mumbled as he leaned his arm against the window, watching the world fly by. His hand carded absently through Wild’s bloodied hair. “You said that you’d help me get him back, an’ we’d be free to go. You ain’t never mentioned taking us nowhere other than back home.”

Time’s heart ached at the kid’s betrayed, defensive tone. “I did say that. And you will be home, soon, I promise,” he soothed. As if the forest they’d survived in before would be safe anymore, given that people knew about them now. Time shook his head. That was a bridge to cross and a conversation to have another day. “I’m just taking you to my home to make sure that Wild’s okay. You want him to be okay, don’t you?”

Time felt even worse, then, for turning such horribly manipulative phrasing upon the kid in order to gain his compliance. But it worked, and Twilight shrunk into himself with a meek nod.

“Good. We’ll be there in 15 minutes.” Time peered at the both of them in the backseat. Twilight was nearly standing now in order to withstand the jostling movement of the car on the winding country roads. His back was pressed against the car door and legs braced stiltedly against the floorboard, turning him all askew where he tried to keep Wild’s head in his lap despite such a position. Wild’s eyes remained closed. “Sit down and put your seatbelt on, Twilight. It’s dangerous to be unbuckled in a moving car.”

“Put on my what?” Twilight’s icy blue eyes snapped to Time, his ears pinning back in alarm. “Dangerous to be unbelted in a what?”

Ah. The jabber nuts, despite their magic, did not have the power to translate everything, especially when a concept was not shared between respective languages.

“Nevermind,” Time muttered, turning onto another street. “Just stay seated and hope that I don’t crash before we get there.”

Finally, they pulled into the gravel driveway. Battered fence posts ran along either side of the road, penning in the horses and cows that would all be asleep in the big red barns at the backside of the property. The vegetable gardens lay to one side; the white farmhouse loomed on the other side at the top of the hill; the kitchen light flicked on, and if Time squinted, he could spot Malon’s silhouette shadowing the window.

“Listen, boys, we’re here.” Time spoke up. Twilight, previously nodding off, jerked to attention in the backseat. Wild remained still, but Time thought he saw his eyes flicker open at his words. “When we go inside, I want you to go and sit in the living room. I’ll talk to Malon. She’s likely gonna want a pretty good explanation on all of this, and I’d rather it come from me.”

“An’ if she turn you inta dog?” Twilight asked tremulously. Wild made a little confused noise on his lap, and Twilight returned to petting his head, looking very, very stressed about the idea. “What’re we s’posed to do then?”

“She’s not going to turn me into a dog, Twilight,” Time answered tersely. She may kill me, though. He knew better than to voice that thought—the jabber nuts were clearly not doing a good enough job to translate the idea of irony to the poor kid. Time pulled up the car to the garage, parking in front of the closed doors. “Alright, everybody get out.”

Just as Time stepped around the vehicle to release a trapped Twilight from the backseat—he’d forgotten the boy wouldn’t know how to use the latch—the front door to the house opened. Light spilled onto the driveway.

“Link!” Malon’s scolding voice nearly made him cower in its intensity. “Just where have you been? Two in the morning, calling me telling me—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh!” Time begged, waving his arms. He raised a finger to his lips. “One’s got a head injury, you’re gonna hurt his ears.”

Malon took in a deep, preparatory breath, but right on cue, Twilight unfolded himself out of the car—a mess of lanky limbs and unsteady after the long, unfamiliar ride—and her lecture petered out then and there. He clutched Wild, still so small and shivering, to his chest. “Uh… ‘Lo, Mrs. Malon.” Twilight seemed to attempt to dip into a respectful bow, but the precious cargo in his arms made it difficult to complete the gesture. He ended up bending his head over Wild, the tips of his ears downturned. Always with the ears. Time didn’t remember there being so much body language about them. But it had been decades since he’d last seen them, after all. “Nice t’meet you, ma’am.”

“Oh my god, where did you get two kids?” Malon whispered, her hands over her mouth. “Looks like you picked up a hobo and a psych ward escapee.”

“Like I said, work,” Time said briskly, retrieving and shouldering his professor’s satchel from the passenger’s seat. “Did you eat one of the chocolates already?”

“Of course I did, Link.”

“Then stop insulting the poor boys, because they can understand you, too, and they’ve been through a lot today.”

Malon huffed, crossing her arms as she looked over the two. Twilight stepped forwards, then, and his knees seemed to shake underneath him beneath her gaze, but he stood tall. “I’ve heard lots about you from Mr. Time, kind ma’am. Can… can you help my lil brother, please?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same. My husband likes to keep his secrets, it seems.” The look Malon sent Time was deadly. Then, as if on a dime, her voice changed to a soft, motherly coo as she turned her attention to Wild. “Oh, you poor boy, you." She placed a gentle hand over his forehead, brushing his bangs to the side; he gazed back, his eyes open but glassy and unseeing. "Who did this to you?” 

“C’mon inside, dearies, I’ll get you and your little brother all fixed up, and get you something to fill your stomachs too?” She took Wild from Twilight with ease—and Twilight let her, surprisingly enough—then headed for the front door. “And while we’re doing that, my husband and I will talk. That sound alright to you?”

“Yes ma’am!” Twilight followed her readily inside, a skip to his step that Time had never seen from him before. Time trailed far behind, a shadow staying out of Malon’s blazing sight. Oh, he was in so much trouble.

Read this on ao3! Wild’s Wolf - Chapter 4

Or check out the whole series here! HotCheetoHatred's Febuwhump

[adhdbisexualramblings]

Connected to your CG!Papyrus and Regressors!Sans and Flowey idea...

It's, mostly, just Papyrus sitting down, holding two little ones in his arms (maybe they're sleeping or something, I don't know) when somebody with ill intentions tries to get to them, so Papyrus just... goes into a protective brother/dad mode, silently scaring the offender away, before again smiling sweetly to the kiddos.

Because those are his babies. No one is allowed to do bad stuff with them

Ta-da! *glitter bomb* Drabble for the UT agere ask (please send me more of these /srs)! (though I think it got a bit off-topic 😅-)

(Papyrus talks in all caps, usage of '~' for a whine, and the story might be a bit wordy and confusing(?) because I haven't written in a literal year)

The echo flowers jabbered on as they always did, but Papyrus wasn’t focused on them. The constantly humid grass squished under his glove, soft to the touch, and the tall skeleton was glad he lacked skin to avoid the wetness seeping into his battle body. The warmth of the two individuals curling against him helped, too, he supposed. Papyrus leaned against the stone wall carefully to not jostle the sleeping secondary skeleton in his arms. Purely blue water, emitting a serene glow, gushed through the riverbed just near the three, and the distant fall of rain pattered against itself.

Papyrus glanced at his two little ones fondly but frowned slightly at what he saw. With a quiet sigh, he chided, "FLOWEY, PLEASE DON'T ANTAGONIZE SANS."

Flowey, a temporarily potted golden flower, had spat out his pacifier (which ended up bumping harmlessly against his pot due to the clip tied around it) to stick his tongue out at his reluctant companion, who had been nestled in Papyrus' other arm. He blew a raspberry rather childishly. Sans stirred a bit and lazily cracked open an eye.

Flicking his bony hand from where it had been tucked against his chest, the skeleton's open eye flashed briefly as Flowey's pacifier, now back in his mouth, and accompanying clip glowed blue.

"Mmf-!" Flowey made a noise as his pacifier fell to the floor, bringing him with it. Refusing to simply let go of it, the flower tried fruitlessly to pull it back up, only managing to lift it an inch or two before it fell back down. Flowey pouted, still not letting go.

Papyrus narrowed his eyesockets disapprovingly. He turned to look down at Sans, who looked satisfied at Flowey's struggle, "THAT GOES DOUBLE FOR YOU, BROTHER. YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER," despite his best efforts (and his understanding of manners), the taller skeleton couldn't bring himself to sound too stern. Still, Sans looked upset at the words nonetheless and shrunk in on himself with self-contempt.

"...sorry, pap..." he mumbled, still sleepy. Papyrus stopped his attempt at sternness and clicked guiltily.

"IT'S ALRIGHT, BABYBONES," he cooed quietly, reaching his hand up to push his brother back against his shoulder and simultaneously massage the top of his skull, "I'M NOT MAD, OK?"

Sans nudged his younger brother affectionately, accepting his words with a noncommital hum. Papyrus chuckled under his breath, shifting him so they could lean comfortably against each other.

A vine poked the skeleton on the shoulder a bit harshly. Flowey, finally popping his paci out of his mouth, flopped against Papyrus' arm dramatically.

"'Pyrus~," he whined, staring up at him with innocently pleading eyes. The skeleton in question, disregarding the tone, shifted his gaze to him and moved his hand so the flower rested on his glove instead of his arm. Flowey pushed himself into the worn-down fabric tearfully, inhaling.

"WHAT IS IT, FRIEND?" Flowey hadn't liked any other nicknames Papyrus had tried to come up with, so they had stuck to the usual. The flower didn't clarify, only letting out a sad but short whine. Papyrus' metaphorical brow creased before he caught sight of the still-blue pacifier stuck to the floor, "AH, RIGHT, YOUR SOOTHER."

Moving his hand to undo what Sans had done and eliminating the gravity magic, Papyrus watched as Flowey quickly took the freed binky to his mouth again and gratefully sucked on it. The flower stared up at his caregiver with adoring eyes and earned an equally as adoring laugh when he burrowed into Papyrus' scarf, shutting his eyes contently.

"I LOVE YOU, TOO, FLOWEY." He muttered, taking care to be extremely light when stroking the petals.

His two boys seemingly fell asleep in a matter of minutes. Papyrus slowly rubbed small circles where his thumbs lay, occasionally humming parts of songs he knew. He loved days like these. Sans and Flowey were the two people he cared about most (even if that was a bit of an overestimate since Undyne was also of equal standing), and the tall skeleton enjoyed caring for both of them when it mattered. Papyrus had always wanted to nourish something, even in small ways - like cooking pasta. To have his two most beloved people depend on him so trustingly felt nice. He felt...well, even more productive than usual!

Papyrus snapped his head up from where he'd been trying to keep Flowey's pacifier in his mouth (the flower tended to cry if it fell out while he slept) by a squelching sound.

*Moldsmal incidentally crosses your path!

The skeleton pulled his two charges away from the burbling mass of jelly out of that familiar protective instinct. Moldsmal wasn't exactly 'dangerous', per se, but any attack would disrupt his little ones' sleep, and Papyrus wouldn't like that for them at all - it took a lot for both of them to sleep at the same time.

Eyes narrowing, he visibly shuffled further from the Moldsmal, who was still making its purr-like noises.

"NYEH..." he drawled in a warning tone, making sure it knew he meant business. The Moldsmal blurbled something - maybe an apology - as it jiggled with nerves. Silently, it wobbled away from the trio, its noises sounding a bit offended now.

Papyrus nodded with satisfaction as he watched it go. There, now they were all safe. Sans mumbled something and shifted. Papyrus leaned back into the wall behind him.

Yes, days like these were very nice.

(oh golly, that's long. I went off-topic, but I think it turned out fine. I enjoyed writing it, too! Undertale age regression asks are my favorites!)

[up-in-space-reading]

Average Weekly Screentime - Chap 5: Happy Holidays

pairing: Jake Peralta x Amy Santiago

word count: 1323

warnings/tags: college au, texting, drunk texting, text fic (mostly, there's prose a few chaps in), bets, bisexual!jake peralta, jake peralta has adhd, parties, drinking and alcohol, sexual references, implied sexual content (nothing explicit, just suggested its going to happen/has happened), friends to lovers, swearing, mentions of cannibalism, lighthearted threats of violence (typical rosa stuff yk), fluff

read on ao3

Average Weekly Screentime masterlist

Story Summary: texting fic college AU with the squad! It's the beginning of the school year and while everyone else thinks it'll be the same as the previous year, Gina has a feeling things are going to be different and wagers a bet with Rosa and Charles. Told through all the various group chats everyone is in.

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5 | Chap 6 | Chap 7 | Chap 8 | Chap 9 | Chap 10

authors note: This is a bit of a shorter one but I wanted to get something out before the previously talked about NYE party!

[07:12pm, Saturday]

Cameron: 1 image attached Cameron: It’s delicious in case you were wondering

Ferris: SO mean to send me pics of soup rn

Cameron: Haha sorry, not sorry Cameron: If it’s any consolation the soup comes at the cost of my sanity

Ferris: do elaborate

Cameron: My nieces and nephews are ensuring there is not a moment of peace and/or quiet in this house

Ferris: one day we can trade spots Ferris: u can sit with my mom and d a d (gross) all by urself

Cameron: Your dad is there??

Ferris: worst christmas present ever tbh

Cameron: That sucks, I’m sorry.. Cameron: And sorry for complaining

Ferris: nah that’s okay Ferris: im handling it by giving him dirty looks whenever he turns away from me

Cameron: If it gets you through the day then I support that Cameron: I used to do that to my brothers sometimes (and maybe still do)

Ferris: am i surprised that you do that? no lol

Cameron: Hey! I’m not that predictable

Ferris: not entirely but a little bit lol

Cameron: Sorry, gotta go. My mom asked me who I’m texting and when I said ‘my friend Jake’ it opened a whole can of worms

Ferris: hahaha have fun with that one

Cameron: Thanks lol

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[08:35am, Monday]

Four Eyes: Happy Christmas guys

Pineapples: merry chrimmas

Mr Grapes: thanks Amy! Merry Christmas everyone :)

Queen G: yeah same

RoRo: cool

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[07:45pm, Thursday]

Ferris: when r u coming back?

Cameron: Tomorrow, why?

Ferris: just wondering

Cameron: The time will fly by, I promise

Ferris: if u say so

-

The time wouldn’t fly by. He was convinced time was moving slower without her. It was pathetic, he was fully in it now, even his mother said he talked about her a lot and he didn’t even notice he was doing it.

Having his dad home was hard, and his mom seemed to be fine with it but Jake didn’t come around as easily anymore. You can only be fooled so many times he’d say to himself. He wanted to talk to Amy, he wanted to forget his dad was back and just be with his mom. Jake from a year ago would’ve kicked himself for thinking this, but he missed studying in the library with her.

Jake just wanted to be back in the environment he’d gotten so comfortable in so quickly, with his friends and his dorm and his Amy. He was going back on the same day as Amy, he asked when she’d be back because he missed her, and in a moment of weakness after too much spiked eggnog he actually messaged her.

It took a lot of will power to resist calling her, eventually putting his phone under his pillow and going to sleep just to stop himself. When he woke up the next morning he realised how hard New Years is going to be; his walls come down when he drinks, and right now the walls were the only thing stopping him from just pouring his heart out to Amy.

He missed her so much.

-

She missed him too much.

Amy didn’t want to admit it to herself at first but it didn’t take long, when she found herself messaging Jake about soup of all things. She just wanted to talk to him about something- anything! She kept thinking about how her brothers would love Jake, he’d fit right in despite the crazy atmosphere being so different to his own family holidays.

A few glasses of wine too many finally let her think about her feelings for him, and that’s how she ended up shedding a few tears on the floor of her childhood bedroom deciding that she really did like Jake – a lot. But after some hours of being frustrated Amy let go, she decided to give in and let herself miss Jake.

She let herself laugh at his messages, she let herself smile at the thought of him and look forward to the study dates after the holidays. She even let herself be excited for the day she went back to campus and the New Years Eve party, and in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep and everything was quiet, she considered being with him.

Only one more day until she saw him again.

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[02:07pm, Friday]

Cameron: Finally on my way back to campus!

Ferris: i just got here like 10 mins ago Ferris: have u had lunch or do u wanna get something?

Cameron: My mom made me eat before I left, but if you’re going out I’ll tag along

Ferris: cool cool cool

Cameron: When does everyone else get back?

Ferris: tomorrow

Cameron: Cool cool

-

[02:40pm, Friday]

Cameron: Back now, sorry I was so long. If you’ve already eaten and don’t want to go out that’s fine

Ferris: thats fine Ferris: im good to go!

Cameron: Meet you in the courtyard then!

Ferris: see ya

-

[04:27pm, Friday]

Ferris: 1 image attachment Ferris: when u see this when u get home: sorry lol

-

[06:48pm, Friday]

Cameron: You’re so evil for that! Cameron: I was in the middle of sneezing

Ferris: hahaha im sorry ames it was just perfect timing

Cameron: …it IS a bit funny..

Ferris: you have full permission for payback

Cameron: Didn’t need permission, already started plotting

Ferris: oh no…

Cameron: :)

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[01:23pm, Saturday]

Queen G: guess whos back on campus and still hot af

Pineapples: ginaaaaaaaaa girl I missed u

Queen G: i know Queen G: everyone misses me when im gone because im wonderful to be around

RoRo: good god what did the holidays do to you

Pineapples: i dont notice a difference??

Four Eyes: Welcome back everyone!

Mr Grapes: Back in town and ready for new years tomorrow!

Pineapples: cant believe the year is over already Pineapples: anyone got new years resolutions?

Mr Grapes: I wanna raise my average grade

Queen G: im literally perfect so no

Four Eyes: I haven’t thought about it to be honest

Pineapples: mine is to actually finish my work as i get it

RoRo: fix up my bike

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[01:28pm, Saturday]

Cameron: draft message: My new years resolution is to ask you out

Ferris: draft message: kiss me tomorrow at midnight??

Cameron: Excited for the party tomorrow?

Ferris: of course! Ferris: you?

Cameron: Surprisingly yes Cameron: draft message: because you’ll be there

-

Girls, Girls, Girls

[10:30am, Sunday]

Amy: Quick question, what are you guys wearing tonight?

Rosa: black Rosa: something warm, its fucking freezing

Gina: i was thinking a fur coat but idk Gina: i dont want a drink spilling on it and ruining it

Amy: Right okay Amy: Could I get away with jeans?

Gina: depends what jeans and what top Gina: if ur gonna go jeans then go black

Amy: I can do black

Gina: what r ur top options??

-

Queens, Legends, Icons

[10:35am, Sunday]

Rosie: what are you doing gina?

Ginaa: what?? Ginaa: im helping amy

Rosie: you’ve never offered Amy fashion advice before Rosie: why now?

Ginaa: because theres a party tonight rosa

Rosie: oh my god

Ginaa: idk what ur accusing me of????

Rosie: you want them to kiss at midnight

Ginaa: i said no such thing!

Rosie: what about your bet? Rosie: they get together tonight and you lose

Ginaa: i dont even care that much about losing anymore im so invested

Rosie: no meddling gina

Ginaa: this technically isnt meddling ;) Ginaa: im just being a good friend

-

Girls, Girls, Girls

[10:43am, Sunday]

Amy: 1 image attachment Amy: 1 image attachment Amy: These are some of my options at the moment, thoughts?

Gina: im coming over

Amy: What??

Gina: im coming over Gina: im bringing more options and we r gonna workshop this

Amy: Uh okay then Amy: Thanks Gina

Gina: np

-

Queens, Legends, Icons

[10:47am, Sunday]

Rosie: fucking hell

Ginaa: love my life

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5 | Chap 6 | Chap 7 | Chap 8 | Chap 9 | Chap 10

authors note: Thanks for reading and for commenting and leaving kudos, everytime i get a kudos notif it motivates me to write more so I appreciate all the love <3