#the guy was like interesting color choice

[pancake404]

Catnap and Baba Chops Headcanons(?) + Artwork

So I made this collection of drawings with Catnap and Baba Chops. I think these two would be interesting as a pair whether friends or more.

Without text:

Now I had a couple of ideas regarding these two.

Now these two would make up an interesting duo as both seemed to be either described or behave in reserved ways and both are most likely introverts. However both share a morbid or creepy aura when interacted with or near, both seem to be the odd one out, and both have a history of them hunting or killing Dogday(in the factory).

Also both have their connection to more religious themes like with Catnap being about heretics and worship of the Prototype and Baba Chops, being a sheep which has quite a bit of connection to religion in their variety of ways.

They still have their differences such as Baba Chops being quite the surprise hunter and violent sheep while Catnap cares more about the Prototype worship than his own stomach.

These two tend to have a lot in common annd they are perfect to participate in a haunted house as they would traumatize the other critters.

I decided to add some of my headcanons/ideas of these two.

In my head, I imagine them to be critters who at one point before Catnap joined Dogday, used to be quite close. They were always together and they always understood each other, Catnap was one of the few that Baba was willing to open up to and wanted to hang out with.

But when Catnap joined the Smiling Critters(more or less specifically Dogday), they separated and Baba began have hatred over the dog who in her eyes, stole Catnap away. Due to this drift and other issues regarding beef between the Nightmare and Smiling Critters, their relationship began getting weird as Baba is more desperate to bring back Catnap, even started acting a bit aggressive and obsessive while Catnap struggles to decide between his new friends or Baba(as well as the other Nightmare Critters as he might’ve been friends with them too).

Whenever a rare physical altercation does happen(probably the reason being Dogday), Baba Chops’s usual weapon of choice is a scythe(you know…skull = death = grim reaper). Catnap also is dangerous in his own way and let’s just say these two are unhinged and dangerous in a physical fight.

To add further onto this, I drew a more demonic form of Baba Chops whenever she starts getting more frustrated or pushed far enough. She has many sharp teeth which she hides being her basic grin. Her claws showing looking similar to the Prototype claws.

Because the show introduces a dragon, a unicorn, Catnap’s mysterious red smoke in the show, and probably cartoon logic, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was some additional magic involved so I figured an idea where Baba Chops, the critter representing death, would have such a form.

Whether you see these two as a romantic pairing or not, regardless, here are them dancing. Baba Chops hates dresses while Catnap obsesses over the idea of “dress to impress” especially on special occasions like dancing. Of course he decided to wear white, opposite of Baba’s tendency to wear dark colors.

Now I haven’t seen a name yet(or I haven’t found one) of the pairing so I have an idea…it could be called “Sacrificial Sheep”….hire me(this is more of a joke).

Still, they have some pleasure and calmness with each other’s company.

I’m not sure if you noticed or not, but both their pendants have a glow to them or rather Catnap’s moon pendant does like it glows in a dark for a nightlight while Baba has her pendant have a black aura around it like it absorbs light instead of emitting it.

I hope you enjoyed the art and explanation. I was thinking of making my own Smiling Critters story/comic showing these ideas as I think there is a lot of potential with these characters to make something interesting.

I have some ideas I might introduce in the future but in the meantime, have a great day.

What do you guys think of the idea of Catnap being a former friend/member of the Nightmare Critters?

[scotts-mailbox]

a list of flowers for each person? alright, now i'm interested - if you'd like, i'd be interested in knowing what flowers you associate with what people.

sincerely, some guy.

@sincerely-some-guy

I'm gonna be going through my Life Series one, if that's okay? Well.. That's still 17 people.. I'll do it alphabetically.

This list has little sticky notes to remind myself of my choices---i'll take them off later, but right now, I can't be bothered. Don't comment on them--or, on the lack of them, for some places, I guess

BdoubleO100 - Dandelions! hes just so bubbly

BigB - Blue orchids, they offer a nice pop of color, without being too in-your-face

Etho - White lillies. I had to go for something white and soft for Etho--but spiky! I think it fits him.

GeminiTay - Orange Zinnias. Soft, bubbly, bright. Best friend.

GoodtimewithScar - Purple Eryngiums. Threatening, torn down, but they're still a flower. We love you, Scar, flower.

Grian - Daffodils. I have my reasons for this one.

impulseSV - Lilacs! Purple is on the opposite of yellow on the color wheel, and they fit you, Impulse.

InTheLittleWood - Dahlias. no comment

LDShadowLady - Plumerias<3 I think just seeing them can explain. She's colorful and slightly pointed, but in unterline, they're just soft.

MumboJumbo - white chyrsanthemums moving on

PearlescentMoon - Red, pricky roses. They're not romantic flowers. They're for my soulmate. pretty sure that, among snow and cactuses, she pricked me with roses sometimes.

Skizzleman - Black Tulips--Or, just, tulips. It's not that Skizz is reserved, it's that he enveloppes you in his love. His love consumes you.

Smallishbeans - White carnations. hes just a prick otherwise

Solidarity - poppies

Tango - Glorosias. You can't hurt anybody, you're a flower. You won't hurt me.

ZombieCleo - Oysters. Not a flower, but--decay exists as an extent form of life.

[lesbianambulon]

It's tattoo day guys!!! I'm in the shop rn waiting to finally get my Autobot insignia tat!!! So excited ✨🥰

[ryssbelle]

My cousins made their own troll Ocs and I drew them in my style.

They were very excited about it

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

It's been a while since the initial announcement, but any thoughts about Life is Strange: Double Exposure?

I watched the trailer and y'know what? I'm intrigued. I actually look forward to playing it. I looks nice, the murder mystery and parallel timelines concept sounds interesting, and I want to see what Max is like after all this time. How's she coping with and healing from all the trauma she went through in the first game?

I haven't watched anything other than the trailer and I'm not keeping tabs on any updates or anything, though. I know that Chloe's not in the trailer and a lot of people are upset about that but like... I'm not mad, haha. Listen, I have a complicated relationship with Chloe Price as a character and I'm not a pricefield shipper by any means, so if this game takes place in the timeline where Chloe died then I won't be too upset.

If anything, I think this game taking place in that timeline would be way more compelling, especially since this story seems to be about Max attempting to prevent the death of yet another friend of hers. She said she swore to never use her powers again, too. I think it'd make sense for her to say that in either timeline, but more so in this one.

However, I know a lot of people would be pissed so it makes me wonder just what they're doing here. It's difficult to take both endings into account unless they do something where if Chloe's alive, she's just not present. Maybe she and Max talk on the phone or Max makes references to where she is... but that would feel cheap, no? Especially to fans who love the original game for the Chloe and Max dynamic, platonic or romantic, and would want to see it now that they're both older and away from Arcadia Bay. I mean, how are they handling themselves after the tornado destroyed everything?

Maybe Chloe is around and the trailer just doesn't want to show her. Again, I don't know if anything's been confirmed and y'all are welcome to let me know.

[doberbutts]

One of the really insidious ways black people in media get treated is that despite our stereotypes expanding outside of "thug" "slave" and "prostitute", we are still very limited on *what* we can be portrayed as.

It is no shock to me that the two black women in Veilguard, for instance, are either medium toned like myself or a nonhuman skin color (introduced as a woman). It doesn't escape my attention that the only black woman in Baldur's Gate list of companions is also a nonhuman skin color. Dark skinned black women are still considered too unattractive to include as potential romanceable candidates, as it *also* does not escape my attention that the darkest we've had was Vivienne who was simultaneously regarded as an incredibly unlikeable character by huge swaths of the fandom and also unavailable for romance.

But moreover- why can't the bubbley nerdy cute mage be a black woman? Why can't the shy but resourceful archer be a black woman? Why does the black woman have to be someone with their guard up, walls as high as a skyscraper, cynical and callous? Why can't the black woman be the warm and loving Wynne, or the somewhat naive yet devout Leliana? The stalwart and just Aveline? I know plenty of Isabelas, and Viviennes, and Neves, and Taashs, but I also know plenty who are Merrill, or Bellara*, or Harding, or Cassandra, and I even lived with a Sera for a while. Why can't she be Bethany or Morrigan?

The closest we had was Josephine, who again is still fairly light skinned, but at least she has a bit more flexibility. And she isn't a companion, so her screen time is fairly minimal if you're not taking the time to romance her.

*And I don't begrudge Bellara too much, as A: I adore her and B: I'm pretty sure she's our first visibly Asian companion which is a milestone in itself. My point is more that Bellara could be black with virtually no story change because I know plenty of bubbly chirpy friendly black women who have a deep love of their hobbies and interests, who are bisexual and even prefer women, with deep trauma in their pasts, and yet the choice to *not* do that speaks to a problem the media has in their depiction of black women that is far bigger than Bioware.

And it doesn't escape my attention that the men have this problem as well- Wyll and Davrin* are both regarded as boring by their respective fandoms due to the choice to play it safe and stick with the extremely good and upright and just knight character instead of giving them something more messy- Astarion and Lucanis could be black with, as said, little-to-no change in their storyline because I know-even have dated- pansexual former sex worker black men with intensely complicated feelings about sex and intimacy, and I've had plenty of ex-con soft yet dangerous men holding themselves at a distance to prevent themselves from hurting anyone as my friends and even extended family.

I know plenty of intensely nerdy and probably autistic black guys who will infodump gladly about their special interest to the point of it consuming them. I know plenty of black guys with martyr complexes who think they have to tear the world- and themselves- apart just to fix what is broken in this world. I know plenty of black guys who, despite their own inability to get their shit together, are like a port in a storm every time you talk to them. I know plenty of black guys who are extremely educated and well respected within their field, with gentle yet commanding demeanor. Any of these characters *could* be black, and yet they aren't, and the choice to do so is again far bigger than Bioware and Larian.

*Davrin, like Vivienne, being the darkest and first blatantly black male companion instead of potentially able to be ambiguously "of color" like Zevran, Fenris, and Dorian. Even more damning that they'd considered, like Sera, making Solas blatantly black in his concept art and instead chose to make him a pale egg.

As someone desperate for representation, it becomes quickly obvious as I take inventory of what roles black people are given that we still aren't considered as complex and nuanced and interesting. We're allowed to be more than we were before, but we still have a long way to go.

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but Jacaerys was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[servicpop]

NSFW ; BLACK , WHITE & GRAY criminal bottom m!reader x detective oc

warnings; age gap , degradation , hate sex , exhibitionism/infront of people (mentioned slightly) , hand cuffs , dubcon/noncon(?) , no after care

notes __ this idea has been sitting in my inbox for awhile but I've finally gotten around to it !

JUNE 19 1999 / 11:48PM

Red and blue lights colored the night skies; not even a slither of the moonlight slipped past the cover of the clouds. The bright yellow caution tape strapped around the fences of the home squealed when Callahan Marshall pulled them up to duck underneath them.

Officers on the scene scrambled to question him but were quickly shot down with the flash of his badge. They slowly retreated, allowing for the man to walk into the crime scene.

The rain had been unforgiving tonight, covering all traces of footprints that might have been left by the culprit in an attempt to escape. A scowl plastered Callahan's face as the stench of alcohol and smoke insulted his nose. The floorboards creaked underneath each step he took, whining with the burden of his weight.

"Careful, Marshall, we aren't too sure if the culprit even left. There's been no signs of escape." Callahan's eyes slowly met the ones that belonged to one of his co-workers — another detective. The other man visibly shuddered when Callahan's pitch-black eyes met his, deep circles tainted the bags of his eyes. A gruff noise was all he got in response before Callahan made his way through the home.

It wasn't a house belonging to someone particularly made up of money so why would anyone make such a mess out of it?

The rooms were left clean, untouched almost. Only a few drawers or cabinets were opened and a few appliances were out of place but no alarming indicator a robbery had happened. Callahan traced a finger along the countertops of the kitchen, looking at the dust that had been sweeped up. This house had been left like this for awhile, even before the culprit set foot in there.

A sudden clattering caught Callahan's attention and he turned his body to the other detective and police officers searching the house, "Did you knock something over?" "No sir, what did you hear?"

Callahan slowly approached the laundry room, twisting the doorknob with caution. He pushed the knob forward and the door swung open. It was hard to make out with the lack of light but Callahan saw a figure dart out the window. "Here!" He called out, alerting the officers before he walked up to the window, watching as the figure scrambled away. He wasn't worried though, the whole place had been surrounded by police patrolling the area.

You couldn't get far even if you tried.

JUNE 22 / 2:24PM

You got caught. It was about time you did.

You had spent the past few years doing various, sketchy jobs in the desperation for money. You lost your job not even three months into it and it had become harder and harder to find suitable jobs to spend the rest of your life slaving away at. You had no choice, it was either that or living off the streets with the local sewer rats as your only form of entertainment and friendship.

Now, you were stuck in an enclosed, dusty white room, sat cuffed to a metal table right in the middle of it with an annoyingly bright light dangling from the ceiling. It was the interrogation room. And the man you sat infront of you was none other than the 'greatest detective of our time' Callahan Marshall.

He was an older guy, probably pushing his 40s by now. You could tell from the way his brows were locked into a furrowing position and the stubble that graced his chin seemed lazily maintained. He also had quite the bit of hair on his arms, his sleeves loosely rolled above his elbows. You couldn't really tell what color his eyes were from how low he held his head and the light above you casted a deep shadow over his eyes, but through the darkness you concluded that they were a yellow-ish orange. Interesting.

"June 19." You flinched. It was expected that he had a deep voice but actually hearing it was different. His voice was coarse, gravelly like wheels crunching against a rocky trail and you could practically hear the amount of cigarettes he's smoked throughout his years of stress. "You were caught about and hour or two after police had arrived," Callahan sounded bored, mumbling his words.

Growing up, Callahan had always hated criminals. From watching bad guys on TV to coming home and seeing his parents dead on the floor and his house a mess from a robbery, Callahan devoted the past years to serving justice. His world was devoid of color, a black and white film on an old, vintage television.

"Did you steal from Mr Broadwood's home?" He pressed, leaning his forearms along the table. They were meaty, not extremely muscular but definitely built from casual hours at the gym. Could you even lie at this point? He was so sure with his words that even the fact that people were watching you from the two-way mirror comforted you from this man.

"No." And the cheap lie rolled off your tongue like it was sweet candy. He raised his eyebrows, unamused. Yeah he was definitely onto you. "So... these photos aren't you?" A confused look flashed across his face as he slid the printed images of your face in full view; it was painfully obvious that it was you. But your head seemed to shake side to side saying 'that's not me' like it was instinct. Callahan leaned back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face as his head tilted back in annoyance. You could hear the prickly sound of his stubble scraping against the palm of his hand.

"I'll force it out of you if you don't fess up," His hand slammed down onto the metal table, causing it to rattle from the contact. "Fine, is force the only thing you cops know how to do?" It was only natural you acted this way. For all your life you've relied on cops to protect you and your loved ones, but each time you needed them the most, they turned a blind eye to you.

But, oil doesn't mix with water. Your two starkingly different perspectives caused conflict. With balled fists, Callahan stood up, the chair scraping against the floors with how abruptly he stood up. Before you knew it, a hand made its way to your hair. Callahan's thick fingers tangled in the strands and pulled your head back, eliciting a small yelp from you. He leaned in closer, looming over you with hate seeping from his pores.

"Tell me this isn't you," He growled, picking up the photos and shoving it in your face. In all honesty, you were focused on how damn close he was. His breath was fanning against the shell of your ear and if you concentrated enough, you could hear the short breaths he took. Callahan straightened his posture but never loosened his grip on your hair. He pulled your head back even further and peered down at you. "Dirty criminal," he muttered under his breath.

You swore it was just the adrenaline making you hard. There was no way you'd fall for a detective like him. So why did he have your face squished onto the table and your boxers pulled down just under the curve of your ass.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Callahan had one hand holding your head down and another on your waist, digging into your flesh. He found out that the more he dug into your waist, the more you'd whine and squirm against him. You couldn't deny his words though, something in you was so intrigued by Callahan. He got straight to the point, and he didn't try and fool you with kindness. But maybe you wished he'd be a little more gentle with you.

Your eyes shot wide open when you felt his tip circle your rim. You didn't even have to see it to know the size of it. Could it even fit? "Wait—" Your words were cut off as he thrust forward with no warning, letting his cock sink into your hole. The burning sensation of the stretch made tears bubble at your eyes, threatening to spill. A groan slipped from his lips as he buried himself to the hilt, "God you're too tight."

Callahan moved his hand from your head to firmly grip at your waist, leaning forward so his body weight would pin you down. His hips grinded against you, digging his cock deeper inside your warm body. "Spit it out, did you do it or not?" He grunted, beads of sweat trickled down his temples as he pounded into you repeatedly, watching your flesh ripple with each thrust. "You're leaking everywhere," He chided, snaking his hand to reach for your neglected dick, holding the tip in his palm.

Your wrists strained against the cuffs binding you to the table, the metal cutting into your flesh as you struggled. "I didn't— do it!" You managed to gasp between moans, your hair spilling out onto the table. "Oh really? You didn't do it huh?" He scoffed and his hand tightened around your weeping tip, stroking you off in time with his relentless thrusts.

"People are watching you through that mirror and through the cameras, your pathetic face is on view for everyone to see," Callahan leaned down to whisper in your ear, grabbing a fistful of hair to yank your head up, allowing your teary face to be on full display for the cameras. Fuck, that turned you on more then you would've wanted it to.

His head slung against your shoulder, an oddly affection gesture for how hard he was fucking you. "I know you're not innocent, but your fuckin' doe eyes pisses me off," Callahan's voice had gotten even rougher, and the anger was clear in his tone. He was just using you for stress relief.

Your thighs trembled and your body started to give out, the stimulation was too much for you. His cock kept abusing your prostate, grinding and rubbing against it so much that black stars seemed to cloud your vision. Your fingertips clawed at the metal table, trying to ground yourself as shameless moans came out of your throat. "You're so loud," He scowled, leaning back so he could admire your back in its full glory.

It got him off with the way you sucked him back in even if you seemed so stubborn to liking him. Watching his fat cock disappear into your hole was enough to make him groan. "You wanna cum? Admit it." It was like his dick was a truth serum, you found yourself blabbering, tears rolling down your pink cheeks as you spewed out the truth, "Fine, I did it, I did it, please— just—" A smirk plastered Callahan's face as he whistled, "Go ahead."

In a split second you found yourself spurting out white all over his hand, your back arched and your body convulsed in his grip. Callahan meant to pull out but you were sucking him in so much that he couldn't. He cursed as his orgasm crashed down on him like a wave, filling you up with his sperm before he could pull out. "Shit," he huffed, pulling up his pants before he stared at his cum dripping from your hole. It was still clenching around nothing, and Callahan couldn't help but feel a pang of responsibility for you, but he shook off those thoughts. His one duty was to protect the civilians, not empathise with criminals.

"I'm done here," He grumbled, picking up his things and leaving you slumped on the floor, still bound by the handcuffs on the metal table. He turned his head over his shoulder to glance at you one more time, feeling a strange uncomfortable sensation in his heart before he scoffed and walked out the doors.

He's never lost control like that with any other criminal.

BONUS ; IN THE OTHER SIDE OF THE INTERROGATION ROOM

"Kid looks like he's about to die," Alastair, a co-worker of Callahan, was assigned to supervise the interrogation, "Marshall sure is brutal," He sighed, standing up once he heard that Callahan was finished.

"At least his tactics work though, props to him," Alastair turned around to face the intern who was meant to learn from this experience. The poor boy had his hands covering his eyes.

"It's fine now, you stay here, I'll clean the guy up."

a/n ; i changed my layout !! Its alot easier now ^^; my previous one had so many symbols I had to copy and paste ,, anyways ! I finally wrote about him ♡♡ the original request(?) was a bit different so this is ooc of him but I will expand more on his story if you guys like him ! Also I introduced Alastair ,, maybe I can write a threesome with them sometime !! I've never done it before so who knows

[nosyp]

Twst boys reactions to u singing/listening to a suggestive song🤭

A/N = ME DOING ALL DORMS AT ONCE??? crazy day guys (btw im listening to body by megan thee stallion ykyk)

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

Instantly turns as red as his hair, unable to process what he's hearing.

Stammers something about 'decency' and 'propriety' but struggles to look you in the eye.

If you're singing, he might just leave the room, saying how it’s 'inappropriate' but deep down, he's flustered, shook.

Trey Clover

Smirks and tries to play it cool, but his ears betray him by turning pink.

“That's... quite a choice of song.” He doesn’t outright say anything, but you can feel his awkwardness.

If you catch him humming along later, well, that's another story.

Cater Diamond

He... LOVES it. Homeboy IS PULLING OUT HIS PHONE to start recording or lip-syncing with you.

“Hey, let's do a duet! This'll totally gonna trend!”

Doesn’t seem bothered at all, but you notice his sly grin when the lyrics get particularly spicy.

Ace Trappola

Laughs obnoxiously, pretending he’s unfazed, but his red face gives him away.

“Pfft, what kind of song is this? You’re so weird.”

Secretly intrigued and might look up the song later.

Deuce Spade

FREEZES. His face is as red as the Heartslabyul logo color.

“W-WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO?!”

HE CANNOT handle the situation and will try to change the subject, but his curiosity gets the better of him... and... just imagine what happens next.

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

He just raises an eyebrow, unimpressed at first. But gradually, the corner of his mouth quirks up.

“You trying to get someone’s attention with that?” he teases.

Might tease you mercilessly, but if you’re singing it, he’ll close his eyes and just enjoy the show.

Ruggie Bucchi

Snickers and probably joins in, singing the most suggestive lines louder than you.

“Hey, you got good taste!”

If you get embarrassed later, he’s LIVING for it and he probably WILL NEVER let you live it down.

Jack Howl

Mortified. Shocked. Disgusted(?). He’ll try to act like he doesn’t hear it but is very obviously uncomfortable.

“Do you really need to sing that out loud?”

If you keep going, he might just leave to “get some air” (a.k.a. calm himself down his racing thoughts).

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

Adjusts his glasses nervously but tries to stay calm and composed (he's defo not inside).

“An... interesting choice of music. I’m sure it has its appeal.”

If you’re singing, he’s secretly enjoying it but won’t let it show, except for the slight twitch of his lips.

Jade Leech

Smiles politely but with a glint of mischief in his eyes as he watches u listen/lip sync/sing the song.

“Ah, such bold lyrics. I didn’t know you had this side to you.”

You can’t tell if he’s impressed or just teasing, but he’ll remember this forever.

Floyd Leech

HE... LOVES IT. In fact, he loves it so much he might even start dancing or yelling the lyrics with you.

“This is fun! Let’s play it louder!”

If anyone else reacts awkwardly, he’ll drag them into the chaos for extra entertainment.

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

He's coming with you. He's gonna clap along with you and kinda gets into the beat without really processing the lyrics.

“This is such a fun song! Where did you find it?”

When he realizes the meaning, he might blush but will laugh it off as no big deal.

Jamil Viper

Stops whatever he’s doing and sighs.

“Do you have to listen to that here?”

Pretends he’s annoyed, but if you’re singing, he secretly finds your confidence impressive.

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit

He just raises an eyebrow, completely unimpressed.

“Bold of you to think that’s your best performance.”

Critiques your singing technique if you’re performing, but he’s secretly entertained.

Rook Hunt

Absolutely enchanted. Amazed. Bewildered. Flabberghasted.

He just stands there, admiring you... until he joins in while making a dramatic entrance, adding flair to your performance.

“Ah, such passion! Such boldness! You are magnifique!”

Encourages you to sing louder because he’s living for the chaos.

Epel Felmier

Blushes furiously and tries to act tough.

“Ain’t you embarrassed singing something like that?”

If no one’s around, he might ask for the name of the song. Who knows? hehe

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

Short circuits (even tho he isn't really a robot). His hair flickers a brighter blue as he processes the lyrics.

“W-WHAT ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO?!”

If you’re singing, he’ll cover his ears, but he’s totally recording it to listen to later (not that he’ll admit it).

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

Malleus just... tilts his head, confused but also intrigued (as he usually is).

“Is this a mortal courting ritual?” he asks with a curious tone.

He doesn’t really get it but finds your boldness fascinating.

Lilia Vanrouge

Completely unbothered and probably starts harmonizing with you.

"BODY ODY ODY ODY"

And finally, when your both done, he just says “Ah, I remember a similar song from centuries ago! Let’s make it a duet.” as if this happens to him everyday.

Encourages you to embrace the silliness and fun of it.

Sebek Zigvolt

OUTRAGED and overly dramatic about it.

“How dare you subject Lord Malleus to such inappropriate music?!”

If you’re singing, he’ll try to lecture you, but his flustered expression ruins the effect. Just imagine him all red and flushed trying to scold you for singing an inappropriate song.

Silver

Barely reacts, too sleepy to care.

“Huh? Oh, nice song, I guess.” he mutters, all groggy and shit.

If he actually processes the lyrics, he might blush slightly but won’t make a big deal out of it.

A/N = Also idk how to do dividers well so, y'all get this. Hope y'all enjoyed ☺️ (cuz i definitely did)

[yaniluvs]

‧₊˚ ⛲️ ⌇ 리노 : OUR MOONLIGHT ── your idol-boyfriend comes over to yours, tired from the day's schedule, only to find you wearing one of his tees.

𓍯 idolbf!leeknow ʚଓ unistudent!fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ） 0.9k ── ༯ DRABBLE, established relationship, domestic and tooth rotting fluff, cute, comfort, petnames, messy but romantic kissing, making out, corny flirting, requested by anon! ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ if you saw this post earlier, no you didn't. this is a repost ㅠㅠ.. ginger/red/brown minho is my weak spot.. >< loved writing this so much !! my very first request, thanks anon! comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! happy reading <3

the hum of the city outside was a comforting backdrop as y/n sat in her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. she adjusted the brown frame of her glasses, staring at the glowing screen in front of her.

assignments always had a way of consuming her time, but tonight, her thoughts kept drifting elsewhere.

the sound of keys jingling at the door snapped her back to reality. she smiled to herself, knowing exactly who it was.

the door opened quietly, and the guy stepped inside, the dim light of the apartment highlighting his newly dyed dark brownish-scarlet hair. it suited him perfectly—soft, warm, hot, and too fine. 

he noticed her immediately, sitting on the couch in one of his tees- fitting her loosely, paired with shorts that barely peeked out from under the hem. she looked effortlessly cute, and his heart swelled at the sight. 

"busy, hmm?" her boyfriend asked, his voice gentle yet teasing, as he closed the door behind him.

she looked up, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

"you’re home," she exclaimed, pushing her glasses up her nose. "and you look so fluffy today. i can’t get over how perfect this hair color is on you."

minho cringed at her words, his face turning into mock-disgust, running a hand through his soft locks. "you think so? i thought you’d like it." 

"i love it," she replied, her tone affectionate. "you look like a hot rockstar who's secretly a red velvet muffin inside."

"interesting choice of words.." he chuckled, shaking his head at the nickname. "a red velvet muffin? really? i was going for something more…mature."

she giggled, setting her laptop aside. "oh, trust me, you look very mature," she teased, her eyes trailing over him. "but i can’t help it, you’re just so adorable."

minho made his way over to her, his movements slow and deliberate. he leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead before whispering, "and you, look way too good in my shirt."

y/n smirked, pulling him down by his hand to sit on the armchair nearby. "you mean my shirt now," she corrected, her voice playful.

"is that so?" his eyes sparkled with mischief. he sat down, pulling her with him so that she ended up on his lap, straddling him. 

she gasped softly, her hands instinctively finding their place on his broad shoulders. "someone’s feeling bold tonight."

"bold?" he tilted his head, his expression innocent. "i’m just getting comfortable."

she rolled her eyes, though her heart was racing. "comfortable, huh?"

he nodded, his hands resting on her waist, gently tugging her closer. "very comfortable. i mean, how could i not be when i have you right here?" his voice dropped to a whisper, lips brushing against hers.

she couldn’t help but smile, her hands moving to play with the soft strands of his dyed hair. "you really do look good with this color," she murmured, her lips hovering just above his. 

"then stop talking about it and do something," he challenged, his voice low and teasing.

her smile widened as she accepted the challenge, closing the small distance between them. their lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss, the kind that sent shivers down her spine. his hands tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer as the kiss deepened.

her heart pounded in her chest as she melted into him, every inch of her body aware of his presence. she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, and it was comforting, grounding her in the moment.

his hands slid up her back, his touch gentle. he broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against her lips, "you taste like strawberries."

"you look like one," she chuckled softly, brushing her nose against his. "but you taste like trouble."

"is that a bad thing?" he asked, his voice pouty, laced with amusement.

"not at all," she replied, capturing his lips again. 

the world outside her apartment faded away, leaving just the two of them, lost in each other. their kisses stayed soft, more calm, as if they were making up for all the time they’d spent apart. 

minho's hands roamed over her body, his touch setting her skin on fire. he loved how she responded to him, the way she clung to him, the little gasps that escaped her lips between kisses.

her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, as if she could never get enough of him. she could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed her, and it made her heart swell with love.

eventually, they pulled apart, both of them breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. 

"you really need to come over more often," y/n whispered, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw.

the guy only chuckled, his breath warm against her skin. "i’m not going anywhere, not when you look at me like that."

she blushed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "like what?"

"like i’m the only person in the world," he replied, his voice soft, sincere.

she smiled, her heart fluttering at his words. "that’s because you are," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him once more.

this time, it was better, more tender, a promise of all the moments they would share in the future.

and as they held each other, wrapped up in their own little world, they knew that nothing else mattered. not the assignments, not the schedules, not the outside world—just the two of them, here, in this moment.

[luvjunie]

— matching nails

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

summary: you ask miles if the two of you can paint your nails a matching color. wc: 476

contains: fluff, slightly posessive!miles

word bank: “princesa” - princess

you’re seated sideways in your boyfriend’s lap with your legs hung over his, trying— and failing to convince him to participate in a cute couple’s idea you found on tiktok.

“hell no.” the rejection comes even faster than you’d expected, a glum frown turning the corners of your lips downwards. you pout up at miles disappointedly, who is somehow still unmoved by your used-to-be undefeated persuasion tactic.

“but-“ you start.

“nah, no way princesa.” he interjected firmly, his fingers warm where they rested, curled over the skin of your exposed waist just beneath the hem of your crop top. “trippin’.” his chuckle lacked a single shred of humor.

you huffed, arms crossing and eyes rolling. “it’s just nail polish, miles, it’s not that big of a deal. you don’t wanna match with me?”

“shit, we can match some jordan’s. just lemme know what pair you want.” he snorted, finding your little tantrum adorable.

he obviously wasn’t taking you or your idea seriously, so you simply shrugged your shoulders and sighed dramatically. “fine, i’ll just ask someone else to do it with me then.” you mumbled, moving to stand up as you reached towards the desk for your phone.

“who?” his brow quirked, the vagueness of your statement piquing his interest almost instantly.

“chris.” you stated casually, his hand dragging down your hip as you moved out of reach.

“chris?” he parroted, the sound of the name drawn out in disbelief as it expelled from his mouth. the drastic change in his expression paired with the incredulous tone of his voice was comical, and you had to restrain yourself from laughing at his reaction to the mention of your made-up-guy-friend. “who the hell is chris?” his two braids draped over his shoulders when he sat up, forearms perched on his basketball short-clad thighs as he suspiciously watched you unlock your phone without answering him.

he kissed his teeth and impatiently leaned forward, his pointer finger hooking onto the belt loop of your jean shorts to swiftly yank you back over to him. with a squeal you stumbled back into his lap, your phone snatched from you at the speed of light and tossed over onto your bed a few feet away, your mouth slightly agape and hands still in the shape of what they were previously holding.

“you play too damn much.” his voice was low, brooding as he stared daggers into your eyes. “so who’s your lil’ friend? chris, right? he go to your school? you never mentioned him to me before.” once the questions started coming and his head tilted to the side with that familiar glint in his eye, you knew better than to keep the gag going, even if it was fun to see him squirm.

you shifted in his lap as your legs swung back and forth, an attempt to distract him from the playful smirk that threatened to expose itself on your expression, but he saw it anyway as you quickly shook your head. “no, baby, i was just kidding.”

“aw yeah, that’s what i thought.” he huffed out what was meant to be a laugh, sizing you up with a brief warning glance. you could tell he was thinking it over, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek when he glanced away, and a smile slowly grew on your face as he exhaled a heavy sigh. you always got what you wanted.

“show me the color you want us to do, mama.”

— extra scene

a/n: nah cause just imagine miles leaving with his uncle for a job, and as he goes to slide his mechanical gauntlet on, Aaron catches a glimpse of his nails and is like ??? 😭 imagine getting your ass handed to you by the prowler and bro has hearts painted on his nails

“hold on, lemme see your hand.”

it’s not like he had a choice, seeing as his uncle was already reaching for his wrist. miles wanted to stop him, but he knew it was no use, his hand limp in his uncle’s hold as it was pulled forward and brought closer for inspection.

“the hell you got your nails painted for, man?your girl made you do this or sum?” with an eyebrow raised he studied his nephew’s camouflaged expression, laughter tumbling from his lips when the boy grumbled a quiet ‘chill’, snatched his arm back and let his mask close over his face to hide the subtle tint of embarrassment blossoming on his cheeks.

- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works to other platforms.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!

[ddarker-dreams]

Hi Lock!! I have a question: Outside of Blade which HSR guys do you think make good yanderes and why?

HMMM i think it'd be sunday and aventurine.

sunday is a contender for obvious reasons. a central tenet to his belief system is his willingness to sacrifice self-determination for 'paradise.' while he can understand why some might resist the idea, he remains firm in his convictions. he's the literal embodiment of 'i know what's best for you.' every instance of pain in your life is exploitable to him, made all the worse since technically, he isn't wrong. sure, hindsight is 50/50 and you could probably come to those conclusions yourself, but he doesn't stop there. he'll argue that this cycle will perpetuate itself so long as you're swept up in the chaos of the universe.

above all else, what he espouses is certainty. certainty that you won't be placed in harm's way, exposed to cruelty, or made to suffer any negative emotions. he'll frame it like a choice despite having already made up his mind. well-intentioned though misguided as this all may sound, he's a control freak to his core. press him enough and the cracks in his façade present themselves. he has to be the one to provide you with this paradise — any argument that there's potentially a better future out there for you is met with a tense smile.

"nothing and no one could hope to understand you better than i do," he'll retort. "yourself included, dearest."

aventurine's an interesting yandere because he kinda fights against the obsessive impulses. he isn't delusional enough to think restricting your life is going to win him tons of brownie points, nor would he derive pleasure from it. you're left to roam on a long leash. this, in and of itself, is a gamble. he's betting that you won't read the writing on the wall if the rose-colored glasses he encourages you to wear make the words pretty enough. this introduces a thrilling element — how much can he get away with, exactly? at what point does he cede ground, when does he hold firm?

at some point, his tendency to self-sabotage comes into play. he knows you deserve better. consequently, he shows his hand when it's arguable he would've been better off keeping his cards close to his chest. aventurine will be a bit too restrictive, or not bother to keep his manipulation subtle. maybe it's a subconscious push to save you from himself, or, far likelier, perhaps he feels himself undeserving of long-term stability.

"what? did you forget the kind of person you're dealing with?" aventurine's chuckle is caustic to both his throat and your ears. "i might not cheat when playing games, but that doesn't mean i play fair."

[vunblr]

An Unfinished Goodbye

Pairing: Ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Jealous Bucky. Slight angst.

Summary: Bucky tells himself he’s only watching over his ex-wife and son for their safety. But when someone threatens to alter the status quo, his quiet vigilance falters.

Word Count: About 2.6k

note: The events of this story are prior to The Weight of Choices, but the reason of the divorce is adressed there. This is an idea that’s been on my mind for some time, and I’ve finally decided to write it.

Bucky didn’t let himself linger in the neighborhood too often. He told himself it was for her safety, to make sure no remnants of his past ever came close to the life he’d left behind. But the truth? The truth was much harder to swallow.

So here he was again, parked inconspicuously down the block, watching his old household from the safety of shadows. Nearly two years had passed since the divorce, yet his routine surveillance hadn’t faltered. He called it caution. Vigilance. Love disguised as duty.

But something had shifted over the past few months. He’d noticed a pattern: Wednesdays, late afternoons, like clockwork. She would leave the house with her bag slung over her shoulder and a bounce in her step. She wasn’t dressed for a date: no makeup, no particular effort in her outfit. Casual, comfortable, but purposeful. She always walked, sometimes taking Benjamin along, though not often. Her destination was only three blocks away, a quaint bookstore with dark wood paneling and colorful window displays.

At first, Bucky dismissed it as another errand. But as the weeks passed, he couldn’t ignore how much time she spent there. The store was small, not the kind of place where someone could lose themselves in endless aisles of books. She never came out with stacks, just one or two bags that didn’t explain why she lingered inside for nearly an hour each time. It intrigued him.

What was she doing in there? Who was she talking to?

He had no right to feel like this, not after everything he’d done, not after he’d been the one to walk away. But knowing that didn’t make the questions stop, nor did it ease the tightness in his chest every time he imagined someone else making her smile the way he used to.

Bucky shifted in his seat, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. He knew the store was safe, he’d checked it out the first time she visited, a quick sweep of its modest interior to ensure there were no hidden dangers. But that was before he noticed the pattern. Before he noticed him.

The clerk.

Attractive in an unassuming way, clean-cut, and friendly. The type of guy who probably didn’t carry the kind of baggage Bucky wore like a second skin. He’d seen the way the man smiled at her, the easy banter as she lingered at the counter. It didn’t take a genius to see the man was interested. But what stung more was the question that haunted him every time he saw them together.

Was she interested, too?

The first time Bucky walked past the bookstore on a Wednesday afternoon, it was a coincidence, or so he told himself. He’d been in the area, making one of his usual rounds to ensure Hydra remnants weren’t stirring trouble when he saw her through the large display window.

She stood at the counter, leaning slightly, her bag hanging loosely off her shoulder. Bucky slowed his pace, his eyes drawn to her like a magnet. Her lips moved as she spoke to the clerk, and then she laughed, he couldn’t hear the words, but the smile she gave the man, warm and genuine, was loud enough to make something twist painfully in his chest.

Bucky’s steps faltered. He forced himself to keep walking, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He didn’t look back.

The second time, it wasn’t a coincidence.

She didn’t see him, of course. She never did. He’d become an expert at moving through the edges of her world without disturbing it. That afternoon, he lingered across the street, leaning casually against a lamppost while pretending to check his phone. She was there again, standing at the counter. The clerk handed her a small brown paper bag with a flourish, and her head tilted in a way Bucky recognized, a sign she was amused. The way the clerk smiled back was almost smug, and Bucky’s jaw tightened before he realized what he was doing.

It wasn’t jealousy. It couldn’t be. This wasn’t about him. He was there to make sure she was safe, not to… what? Spy on her? Analyze every smile and gesture? No. That wasn’t why he was there.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

By the fourth Wednesday, Bucky had stopped pretending. He started arriving just before she did, timing it perfectly so he could loiter nearby, feigning to check the notices on the community bulletin board. He didn’t always stay long, just enough to see her walk in, to make sure nothing seemed off. He wasn’t watching her. He was watching over her. There was a difference, even if it felt like splitting hairs.

That day, though, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing through the window. Just a quick look, nothing more.

And there was the clerk. Smiling. Laughing. Reaching across the counter to tap the corner of her bag, like it was their little ritual.

Bucky’s stomach churned. He didn’t wait to see how the rest of their interaction played out. He turned on his heel and left, his steps quicker than usual.

The afternoon pick-up at the kindergarten next day was as uneventful as ever. Bucky leaned against the frame of the door, arms crossed, watching as Benjamin rushed to shove the last of his toys into his tiny backpack. The teacher smiled at Bucky, offering a polite nod before turning her attention back to the other children.

“Ready, buddy?” Bucky asked when Ben finally zipped up the bag with a triumphant grin.

“Yep!” the boy chirped, slinging the strap over his shoulder and racing over to grab his dad’s hand.

They walked back to the car, the boy chattering about his day: the finger painting, snack time, and the new dinosaur toy one of the other kids brought. Bucky listened, smiling faintly, savoring these rare moments of normalcy.

When they reached his apartment, Ben bounded in, already pulling out his toys and making himself at home. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He set down Benjamin’s backpack and started unpacking it, pulling out pajamas, a toothbrush, and a small paper bag. The bag’s contents caught his eye, a glossy new children’s book with a vibrant cover featuring talking animals.

“Where’d this come from?” he asked, holding it up for the child to see.

“Mom bought it yesterday!” Benjamin called from where he was lining up his action figures. “She said it’s funny, and I wanted you to read it to me tonight.”

Bucky swallowed hard, his fingers tightening briefly around the book. It was a small thing, a routine purchase for their son. “Sure, pal,” Bucky said, forcing a smile. “We’ll read it before bed.”

Later, with Benjamin tucked under a warm blanket and already halfway to dreamland, Bucky opened the book. He flipped through the first few pages, skimming the cheerful illustrations, until something yellow caught his eye.

There, stuck neatly to the inside cover, was a post-it note.

Bucky’s stomach twisted as he peeled it off. The handwriting was neat and precise, the kind of deliberate script that came with care.

"For Benjamin and his supermom. If you ever need a quiet moment to yourself, you know where to find me. Coffee’s on me."

For a moment, Bucky just sat there, the note pinched between his fingers, his jaw clenching tighter with every passing second. He read it again, and then again, as if repetition might dull the sharp edge of what it implied.

The clerk wasn’t just leaving a kind gesture for Benjamin. This was for her, testing the waters, pushing the boundary between friendly and…something else.

His chest tightened as he looked down at his son, fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in his father’s mind.

Bucky ran a hand over his face, letting out a slow, controlled breath. He knew he had no right to feel this way. He was the one who left and broke her heart. She deserved a chance to move on, to be happy. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t interfere, wouldn’t sabotage any future relationships she might find.

And yet, as he sat there in the dim light of his living room, his son’s soft breathing the only sound breaking the silence, and all he could think about was the smile she gave the clerk, the ease of their conversation. It twisted inside him, the raw ache of knowing she might be moving on, that someone else might be filling the space he’d left behind.

The book lay open on the coffee table, colorful illustrations staring up at him like an accusation. He should be happy, he knew that. If the clerk was kind, if he made her smile, then wasn’t that what Bucky had wanted? To know she was safe, loved, and cared for by someone who didn’t carry the weight and dangers of a bloody past?

But it didn’t feel like that. It felt like something had been ripped out of his chest, leaving an empty, hollow ache. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

What was he going to do? March into the bookstore and tell the guy to back off? Make a scene, all because he couldn’t handle the sight of her moving on? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. It was pathetic and out of line.

Bucky told himself to sleep it off, to push it down and let the night take the edge off his emotions. But when he slipped under his covers, the darkness only seemed to amplify everything: the sting of the note, the look on her face when she laughed with the clerk, the ache in his gut.

He turned onto his side, then his back, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers he couldn’t grasp. Hours passed like this, his thoughts circling the same drain, relentless and unyielding.

He fell into a fitful sleep sometime near dawn and woke up with a headache pounding at his temples. Dropping Ben off at kindergarten helped distract him for a while; the boy’s energy was infectious, and Bucky managed a real smile when he waved goodbye, watching him run inside without a second glance.

But once Ben was out of sight, the intrusive thoughts returned, a heaviness that sat low in his stomach.

He pushed it aside, meeting up with Sam at a quiet café in the city to discuss a potential mission overseas. A dangerous arms dealer had resurfaced, and Sam was talking about intel, tactical approaches, and backup options, but Bucky only half-listened. He nodded in the right moments and offered a few curt suggestions, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Sam noticed. He always did. “You good, Tinman?” he asked, giving him a sidelong glance, his voice dipping in concern.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, too quickly. He took a long sip of his coffee. “Just a rough night.”

Sam’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t push. He knew Bucky well enough to recognize when to leave things alone. “Alright. But if you’re not up for this trip, just say the word.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky insisted, setting the cup down a little harder than he meant to. He forced a smile. “Besides, what else am I gonna do?”

Sam’s grin softened the tension between them. “Yeah, well, we both know you’re bad at sitting still. Just… if you need to deal with whatever’s got you distracted, handle it before it blows up in your face.”

Bucky’s smile faltered, and for a moment, he wondered if Sam could see straight through him. “I will,”

The day dragged on, filled with errands and prep for the potential mission. It was late afternoon when he realized where he was, standing across the street from the bookstore, hidden in the shadow of a building.

He shouldn’t be here. He knew he shouldn’t be here.

But he couldn’t leave, either.

The clerk was inside, bustling about, turning off lights and flipping the sign to Closed. The street was quiet, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows. Bucky’s pulse thrummed in his ears as he watched the man lock up, a spring in his step that made Bucky’s jaw clench. He didn’t know this guy’s name, didn’t care to know it. All he knew was the way the man looked at her, and it was enough.

Bucky stepped forward, letting the streetlight catch his face just enough for the man to see his expression, cold and unyielding. He took his time, closing the distance with the kind of deliberate, measured steps that always made people nervous. He wanted the clerk to feel it, to know exactly what this was.

“I’ve seen the little note you left,” he said quietly, his voice a low rumble that carried in the empty street. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t need to. The menace was in the calm, the quiet control. “And I need you to know something.”

The clerk swallowed hard, taking a half-step back. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t-”

Bucky’s eyes were steely as he interrupted. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. And I need you to stay away from my wife.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and deliberate. He knew he shouldn’t have said it -my wife- but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to leave an imprint, to sow the seeds of doubt and fear. The man’s face paled, his eyes flicking between Bucky’s unyielding gaze and the empty street behind him as if he was already considering his escape.

“I didn’t mean anything,” the clerk stammered, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I was just… being friendly, I swear.”

Bucky leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I don’t care what you meant. If you leave another one, if you talk to her again, if you so much as breathe in her direction, I’ll know. And trust me, you won’t like what happens next.”

He let the threat hang, unspoken but understood. The clerk nodded frantically, backing away, nearly tripping over the curb in his haste.

Bucky stepped back, letting the shadows swallow him again. He watched as the man stumbled away, disappearing down the street at a near run.

The next Wednesday, she walked into the bookstore as usual, expecting to see the familiar face behind the counter, the easy smile, and the warm greeting. Instead, a tall, bearded man she’d never seen before looked up from behind the register, offering her a polite but distant nod.

“Um, hi,” she said, trying to keep the confusion out of her voice. “Is Matt not working today?”

The new clerk shrugged. “He switched to the morning shift this week. Said he wanted more daylight hours,” he explained casually, returning to the task of rearranging colorful bookmarks without much thought.

“Oh,” she replied, caught off guard. Matt hadn’t mentioned anything about changing his schedule. For a moment, she couldn’t shake the odd twist in her chest, a mix of confusion and something that felt uncomfortably like rejection. It was silly, really, but she’d thought there was a small, unspoken connection between them, a hint of something starting. But clearly, she’d been reading too much into a few friendly gestures.

After a quick, half-hearted browse, she left the bookstore sooner than usual, her expression distant as she stepped back onto the sidewalk. Her mind churned with a muddle of questions and disappointment, feeling foolish for hoping there had been something more.

Of course, Bucky was there, watching from a distance as she walked out of the bookstore, with a subtle sag of her shoulders, and a distant look in her eyes. He knew exactly why; he’d made sure of it. It was pathetic, really. He’d driven off a harmless guy, all because he couldn’t stomach the thought of her finding comfort or affection in someone else.

He swallowed hard, staring after her as she disappeared into the crowd. He’d done it again, made things harder for her, twisted the knife he’d already lodged in her heart. But despite the suffocating shame, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[luviestarz]

yang jungwon fic recs!

★ the language of flowers - @soobnny (jungwon’s just every bit in love with the student council president who keeps visiting his flowershop OR in which you find solace in a flowershop, and its owner’s grandson finds solace in you.)

★ GARDENING CLUB MASTERLIST - @snowbabys (you heard jungwon isn’t one of many friends, a silent and closed guy, and it’s not a surprise when he barely blinks in your direction when you join the gardening club. it is a surprise when he starts to show interest in you and does anything to be close.)

★ ❣︎ ⎯⎯ you’re mine . - @goldenhypen

★ infrunami - @jennaissantes (PROMPT: ‘fixing their tie’)

★ LOVE NEWS ! — YJW SMAU - @hanniluvi (BREAKING NEWS! valentine’s is right around the corner, yet you still had no partner. you didn’t think too much of it, you probably thought it was just another year where you’ll be single again. not a big issue at all. however, your favorite gossip account proves you wrong! what if you find out someone actually likes you? after gathering all the hints you’ve been given, you narrowed your list down to one person. that one person ended up being yang jungwon, one of your crushes. there’s no way, one of your crushes actually liking you back? will you believe it’s just fake or actual love news?)

★ ADMIRING YOU ! - @hanniluvi (You've never had good luck with dating. You just couldn't seem to make it work. You were led to believe that was how things would always be. You had no idea but, Jungwon, one of your classmates has been crushing on you for a long time. But because you are you, you never paid attention to him in class. After seeing him staring at you for a time, you finally identify him as a barista at the aroma café. Will anything ever change for you? Will you be able to establish a committed relationship at last?)

★ nice to meet you, boyfriend!◞♡ ⃗ y.jw - @delcakoo (when a strange man approaches you at the grocery store, you call for your "boyfriend", who has just cluelessly entered the store, unaware of his new relationship status with you, a complete stranger. hopefully he plays along…)

★ scaring a guy away - @delcakoo

★ cat boy - @jaeyunverse (yang jungwon is pissed his cat likes you more than him. or, in which jungwon’s cat plays cupid and sets you up.)

★ i’m your cat, meow - yang jungwon - @en-dazed (in which jungwon is jealous of a cat)

★ classmate au | yang jungwon - @soobnny

★ Baked with Love - @demusewriter (You once dreamed of having your bakery where everyone could use it as a safe refuge from reality, similar to the shop from your childhood. It seems to work as one of the famous boy groups uses it to hang out to temporarily escape the spotlight, especially by one member who seems to be fond of the place.)

★ in my head - yjw - @j1nniee (you’ve hated jungwon ever since you two met on the train to hogwarts back in first year; he’s self-centered, lazy, and always coming out for you. now in your seventh year, you’ve been named head girl (woohoo!). unfortunately, the head boy position was given to the one and only yang jungwon (boohoo…). with no other choice, you’re forced to face the annoyingly attractive boy and work with him for the rest of the year - if you can even last that long.)

★ A PIN STRAIGHT TO MY HEART - @snwpcktz (the famous decelis academy confession board is where students pin their written feelings on an anonymous sticky note in hopes of their crush reading it. for y/n, this is the perfect opportunity to finally come to terms with the feelings she has for her classmate--yang jungwon. she has everything planned out, from the color of the sticky note she would be using (blue, it's jungwon's favorite color) to the location she would pin it on the board (smackdown in the middle of the decorative heart the student council put up for valentine's day ages ago). but what happens when y/n sees jungwon pinning his own confession note mere seconds before she planned to?)

★ ⌗ attractive things jungwon does ⨾ - @aakomii

★ super shy - yang jungwon - @en-dazed (jungwon isn’t used to having company when he’s studying - especially when the company is one of the most popular girls in school)

★ ♡𓂃 START NOW ! - @loveywon (you and jungwon never really got along, but one morning you're in bed with him and you both don't recognize the room that you're in.)

[yourelliewillms]

the guy from the record

store wasn't a guy?

ellie williams fanfic

━━ chapter 1 wc: 1.9k

read the chapters here !!

you've recently discovered this record shop, the perfect place to find everything of the new kind of music you've just gotten into, rock. your friends wouldn't share this interest with you but maybe the cute guy from the store will.

━━ he/him pronous are used for ellie sometimes but it's for plot purposes i swear !!

BASED ON THE GUY SHE WAS INTERESTED IN WASN'T A GUY AT ALL !!!! i love that manga so much i needed an ellie version so i did it myself. of course this is going to be shorter and pleeaase go read it i swear you won't regret it <3 i hardly recommend you to listen to the manga's playlist too, i'll add some of the songs to this fanfic. literally all i want is my lesbians to have the recognition they deserve. ALSO green is the characteristic color of that manga so i'll be using it here too, everything will be green bc we love green lesbians.

another warning, english is not my first language so you may find some mistakes.

it's been a long day at school but at least the week of exams has ended and you've done pretty good. "i deserve a prize" you think to yourself while your feet guide you out of the building. certainly the exams drained you, the only thing you want to do now is take a long nap to catch up on sleep.

walking down the sidewalk, you put on your headphones which have been your best friends for the last few months when you discovered this band nirvana. it is in fact a popular band but in your friend group? no, not at all. your friends prefer other kind of music. pop, kpop, even jazz, but rock? impossible.

so you find yourself unable to share your new music taste with your friends. even if you beg them to give it a chance, they'll refuse it every time. this is definitely the worst, how are you supposed to fully enjoy this work of art only by yourself? they definitely don't understand what good music is, if only they gave it a chance you could-

just when the music from your headphones stopped, you could still hear one of your favorite songs smells like teen spirit coming from a... record store?

your mind is full of questions, since when has been this store here? this is just 5 minutes away from school and you've never noticed it. maybe this is the prize you deserve for having successfully passed all your exams. buying your very first vinyl will surely be the boost of serotonin you need.

you took off your headphones before getting into the store and quickly walked to check all the beautiful vinyls. the excitement could be seen in your eyes, all the vinyls of your favorite bands in one store and you're even considering finding a job, buying everything of this store is not a want but a necessity. this must be heaven.

after what felt like seconds but were actually 20 long minutes, you finally make your choice and find the vinyl that'll have the privilege to be your very first and most appreciated acquisition.

you turn around, walk towards the shop counter and just then realize how rude of you was not to greet the old man at the store. however, you don't care that much, he should understand that you were too excited to even speak and... was it an old man? did you even look at the person who was next to you the last 20 minutes?

"i'll take this" you place the vinyl on the counter before looking up at the person in front of you.

but now, you reassure one more time that you're not on earth anymore. this is definitely heaven, or maybe something greater because the angel in front of you isn't from this planet at all. green eyes, auburn hair drawn back in a messy bun, a scar on one eyebrow, black clothes with a nirvana t-shirt, an arm tattoo and a mask. this is the most gorgeous guy you've seen in your entire life and you were rude to him, you didn't talk to him for this entire time.

"i love this one" he gave you your new purchase in a bag "you have good taste" that raspy voice that'll live in your mind rent free for an eternity, you're sure about that.

meanwhile, your mind has been spinning for the last 30 seconds. a cute guy with a stunning style and majestic music taste, you've seen only his eyes but you can already imagine a life with him where you get married and play your favorite songs in your wedding.

"thanks, you too. bye" and just like that the conversation ended. you're definitely not the most flirtatious person but you didn't ask him anything, maybe it was too soon to ask for his number but not even his name? really? you can already hear your friends scolding you but at least you remember half of his face and that's enough to be delusional the following months until you find another crush.

8 in the morning and you've been talking for half an hour to your friends about this cute guy from the record store. of course they scolded you for not asking his name but your excitement couldn't be taken away that easily. no other boy from your school has ever made you feel like this, no one called your attention like he did.

"is there any possibility that you see your boy again?" dina, your best friend asked "and maybe ask him out"

"dina!" you frowned as if she had just said the craziest thing you've heard in your life "it's too soon for that. but as soon as i see him again i'll ask him his name" you started kicking your feet "and he'll fall in love with me."

dina and your bursted out laughing and spent the whole morning planning your future life with someone you saw once.

maybe you've been talking too loud or maybe she doesn't like you, but the girl next to you has been glancing at you and dina and she seemed a little too much interested in your conversation.

ellie. you've been classmates for almost a year but you two never spoke. she's like any other girl at school. she wears the same uniform as you, a white shirt and a gray skirt. she also wears these square glasses and she has her headphones on most of the time.

she seems like one of those nerds but one that doesn't participate that much in class. she comes to class, listens to the professors and goes home. you've never seen her talking to any other classmates but she seems comfortable only drawing on her notebook and listening to something on her headphones, it's not that you don't like her, but you haven't had the opportunity to get to know her.

but today she seemed quite distracted and instead of focusing on the class, she was focused on you. she seemed nervous, maybe she wanted to join the conversation and make some friends?

however, the bell rang. you were too busy talking about your new guy to try to figure out why ellie's been looking at you more than usual. you began to pack up your belongings; notebook, pencil case, some other books and, are you forgetting something?

the moment you're getting up from your seat, you can feel ellie's presence approaching you. you stare up at her for a few seconds and before you can say something, her hand reached your ear and put on one of your earbuds.

"you dropped this" your eyebrows furrowed, did she always had those pretty green eyes?

the song that you'd been listening on loop nothing at all was playing on your earbuds loud enough for her to listen to it "that song rocks, doesn't it?" and just like that she walked out the door leaving you completely confused. you're sure you've seen those eyes before, you think that maybe for a split second you stopped looking at ellie as your classmate and maybe... someone else.

on the other hand, ellie has been walking in silence staring at her feet while her mind is about to explode because the girl who sits next to her, her classmate and one of the most popular girls at school, has met and is interested in a guy who works at the record store. but no guy works there, just ellie.

she got a part time job and she's been working there for a few months but that was the first time she saw you there. you didn't recognize her though, since the style she has at her job is the opposite of the one she has at school.

probably the best option is to tell you the truth, the guy you're interested in isn't a guy and is actually the boring, nerdy girl from school, the girl you'd never talk to because that would only ruin your reputation, or at least that's what ellie thinks.

ellie thought that her job should be boring and only boring, she didn't want to have to deal with something else than that. and now that girl has a crush on her, or she has a crush on the person she thinks ellie is.

fortunately, ellie's job is calm. not many people visit the store so she spends her first hours of work tidying the place, not paying much attention to the store itself.

while cleaning at the back of the store, ellie heard the ring of the little bell on the door warning the presence of a client. she sighed and fixed her clothes before getting into the store again but got surprised when she noticed that the client was actually you.

if it weren't for the music playing at the store, the place would have been in complete silence. no one was on sight when you walked in so the sound coming from the back of the store scared you and you jumped. "you scared me, i didn't know you were here" you giggled nervously.

"have you been looking forward to it that much?" you were starting to stutter when the green eyed spoke in what seemed a flirty way. "no- i mean! the new foo fighters album" she interrupted herself "you were looking forward to it because you wanted to buy it, right?" she tried to hide her shaky voice, did she just accidentally flirt with you?

"i swear it's so good, you can hear it a thousand times and it'll still sound amazing. also, i know you like nirvana too because you bought the vinyl. you'll love it, i totally recommend it."

you were in a dream, did you just exchange more than two words with that guy? and he was showing a lot of interest it seemed unreal. you'd be a fool if you mess this up.

"i really want to buy it but uhm..." your pockets were empty, you spent all your money in that vinyl and being an unemployed student is not helpful to your situation "i'm a bit short of money right now" not to say that you're dry.

"i'm sorry but i-" yet she didn't let you finish your sentence "i bought this one for myself. you can have it and tell me your opinion when you return it."

he couldn't be more charming to you. only 5 minutes talking and you had already fell down on your knees. "thank you. you can give me your number so that i can bring it back." your hand sweating for you've finally made a move on who you thought was the guy from your dreams.

"no," no? he rejected you just like that, he didn't even a think a second to answer your question "it's just... i can't use my phone at work."

laying on the counter in front of you was a black ink pen which you quickly grabbed and started writing your phone number on his wrist next to his tattoo.

ellie looked at you stunned, she was glad she was wearing a mask because her cheeks had turned crimson. she noticed your hand shaking and that was the moment she realized the trouble she'd gotten into.

"i thought that if i wrote it on a paper, you'd lose it." the music playing in the background just made the atmosphere between you two dreamlike. you waved and smiled at him as you left the store hoping your burning cheeks would go unnoticed. not only did you have someone to share your interests with but also it was someone who you were crushing on really hard.

the first person on the taglist will be my editor/manager/first person who read this @ohnopoteito thank uuu 💋💋

[7-wonders]

"Watching horror movies together"

From a Halloween prompt list. Thanks for reading, guys :)

In your humble opinion, October is one of the best months of the year. How can it not be, when there are so many fun activities that come along with the fall season? Pumpkin patches and apple picking, haunted houses and costume parties, colorful trees and fall-scented everything. One of your favorite parts of October? An excuse to watch as many scary movies as you could possibly desire.

You don’t just watch scary movies in October, of course. Halloweentown and Hocus Pocus were made for this month, and it’d be a shame to not watch them both at least once. But horror movies, in all their spooky, creepy glory, have a special place in your heart, and they’re something that you go out of your way to watch this month. There are only so many days that you can pack in all the Halloween you can handle, after all.

You’re spending the night as you do so many others in October—with the lights off, a snack on your coffee table, and the horror movie of your choice on the screen (tonight’s pick being The Conjuring). The movie is maybe 15 minutes in when you get your first jump scare, but it doesn’t come from the screen. Instead, it comes when a man materializes out of the shadows of your living room, making you yell in fright before your eyes recognize the messy head of black hair and alabaster skin.

“You scared me!” you exclaim, quickly getting over your fear and being unable to stop smiling when it sinks in that Morpheus is actually here.

“My apologies.” He takes in the scene before him, you sitting in a darkened room with a blanket on your lap watching a movie, with interest. “What are you doing?”

“Watching a movie. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re almost never in the Waking.”

It takes him a moment to figure out how to say what he wants to say. “My duties have kept me away from you as of late. I wish to rectify that.”

After translating from Morpheus to English, you have to exert a lot of willpower to keep from breaking. He came all the way to a realm he’s not comfortable in simply because he missed you? Because he feels guilty for being busy and wants to try and make it up to you?

(There’s no need for him to make anything up, because you’re not mad at him in the slightest. He’s the ruler of a freaking realm; of course, that’s going to take precedence over almost everything in his life. But if his misplaced guilt causes him to spend more time with you, then you certainly won’t complain.)

“Okay. Do you…want to watch the movie with me, then?”

He considers the question, likely the first time he’s ever been asked such a thing. Regally, he answers, “I suppose.”

Now he’s here, sitting next to you on your secondhand couch in your cozy apartment, trying to wrap his all-knowing mind around what a horror movie is. You’re simply pleased beyond measure that your boyfriend is doing something so human and mundane with you, and therefore willing to answer any of his questions that take your attention away from the screen.

“These are watched with the express purpose to leave the viewer frightened?”

“Exactly. You know, like how people read Dracula and Frankenstein?” Relating the movie to classic literature he’s familiar with (you doubt he’s had time to catch up on Stephen King novels) finally makes it click for Morpheus, who nods. “It’s fun to be scared, sometimes.”

Even though this is likely one of the first movies that Morpheus has ever watched, he has enough of an idea of the concept to realize that it’s an activity that’s mostly conducted in silence. It’s a concept he respects…for the most part.

(“Why do they not simply move to another home?” Morpheus asks when one of the daughters sees someone standing in the dark behind her door. Smirking, you simply say, “Now you’re asking the right questions.”)

When the pictures fall off the wall and remind you that one of the best scenes is seconds away from happening, you smile as an idea comes to mind. 

“There is another plus to watching scary movies together,” you begin, making Morpheus look at you curiously.

“And that would be?”

“Well, when scary things happen on screen…” Carolyn Perron falls down the stairs as the spirit locks the door. “And if I were to, say, jump in fright because of it…” The basketball is thrown from within the cellar, and you jump exaggeratedly. “Then it would only make sense for you, as my romantic interest, to…” Taking Morpheus’s hand in yours, you maneuver his arm until it’s draped around your shoulders. “Comfort me.” 

It takes him a moment to settle into the new position, for his arm to relax around you until he naturally pulls you closer to him. When he does, your smile widens until you’re flashing a very smug grin at him.

“I believe you are right,” he says. “This does make the experience better.”

Laughing lightly, you kiss his shoulder before turning your attention back to the movie. October continues to be full of new reasons as to why it’s one of the best months of the year.