#this is why i've been so quiet lately btw

[little-space-bug]

Having a sort of playdate with my friends later ^-^

I'm so excited!!

[goldfades]

HAUNTED BY YOU──FATHER MAYHEW

part two!!!!!!!!

─ summary | father mayhew is being tormented by dreams of a worshiper at the church, who appears both angelic and temptingly sinful in his visions. as the dreams grow more intense, he begins to wonder if they’re a sign from above or a test of his faith. when you confront him, father mayhew must choose between maintaining his distance or giving in to the passion that’s been haunting him

─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!reader

─ warnings | nsfw under the cut! mdni! wet dreams (strong start! i know!), description of self-pleasuring, oral (m!receiving), heavy degradation,hair-pulling, just overall rough sex, orgasm denial

─ ev's notes | like everyone and their damn mom, i've fell under nicholas's damn curse and i just had to come back to tumblr for this very self-indulgent fic. this is just porn with a lot plot LMAOOO. BUTTTTT my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! (please do btw i'm obsessed w nicholas LMAO)

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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Father Charlie had always believed in the purity of dreams.

They were, in his mind, the unfiltered whispers of God—or at least, they had been. Lately, those whispers had been replaced by something far more sinful, and the dreams that used to bring him peace now left him gasping for air, tangled in sheets soaked with guilt and lust.

It started a few weeks ago, innocently enough.

You—a devout presence in the church, never missing a Sunday mass—had always caught his eye, but only in the way a shepherd might glance over his flock. He admired the way they knelt at the altar, the reverence in your bowed head, the delicate movements as you lit a candle in prayer. He told himself it was only admiration. But then the dreams began.

At first, they were fleeting images: your hands, fingers brushing over rosary beads, your doe eyes glancing up at him, lingering just a moment too long. He could dismiss them as nothing more than his mind playing tricks on him, the remnants of a long day.

But the dreams grew more vivid, more demanding. He saw you standing in the chapel late at night, a halo of moonlight casting a soft glow over your features, and when you turned to him, your gaze held something more than devotion. Something in between desperation and lust, something that was pure filth.

Charlie would wake in the dead of night, his chest tight with guilt and desire. He’d slip out of bed and kneel before the small wooden cross in his room, praying for guidance, praying for strength. But no matter how many Hail Marys he whispered into the darkness, the dreams persisted.

And now, they were getting worse.

Tonight, the dream came again, but this time, it was sharper—too real. You stood before him, just as you did every Sunday, but there was no congregation. Just the two of you, alone in the quiet sanctity of the church. He could hear your breathing, could feel the weight of your presence as they stepped closer, your fingers grazing over his. He swallowed hard, his throat tightening as they looked up at him with eyes that seemed to hold the weight of eternity.

"Father," you whispered, your voice soft but filled with something dangerous, something that made the blood in his veins run hot.

He wanted to look away, wanted to pull his hand back, but he couldn’t. Instead, he stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest as you moved closer, so close now that he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin. You reached up, their fingers brushing lightly across his cheek, and he felt a shudder pass through him—half desire, half longing.

"Why do you run from this?" you asked, your voice a low murmur that echoed in the stillness of the church. "Why do you run from me?"

He swallowed thickly, words catching in his throat as he tried to speak. "This isn’t… I can’t…"

But before he could finish, you pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him with a touch so gentle it felt like a caress. "You don’t have to speak," you whispered. "You already know the answer."

With that, you kissed him—soft at first, almost testing, as if waiting for him to push you away.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he felt himself melting into the kiss, his resolve crumbling as you deepened it, your hands sliding over his chest, pushing aside the fabric of his cassock. The feel of their touch was electric, every nerve in his body alive with sensation as they explored his skin, your fingers leaving trails of fire wherever they roamed.

"Please..." he heard himself whisper, though he wasn’t sure if he was begging them to stop or to continue. His breath was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as desire overwhelmed him

Your lips traveled down his neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake, and Charlie groaned despite himself, his hands moving of their own accord to grasp your hips, pulling them closer. You pressed against him, and he could feel the softness of your body against his, the intoxicating scent of your familiar perfume filling his senses.

He knew this was wrong. He knew he should stop, should pull away and regain control of himself, but he couldn’t. His mind was clouded with lust, his body betraying him completely as your hands continued their exploration, your touch driving him to the brink of madness.

"Let go," you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you slid a hand lower, your touch eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. The pleasure was overwhelming, surging through him like a wave as you stroked him, you movements slow and deliberate, coaxing him closer and closer to the edge.

Charlie’s grip on the altar tightened as he felt himself losing control, his body trembling with the force of his desire. He wanted more, needed more, and you seemed all too willing to give it to him, your lips pressing against his once again as your hand moved faster, pushing him closer and closer to release.

When it came, it was like an explosion of heat and pleasure, washing over him in waves that left him gasping for breath. He clung to you, his body shuddering with the intensity of it all, his mind spinning in a haze of ecstasy and guilt.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over.

Charlie woke with a start, gasping for breath, his body tangled in sweat-soaked sheets. His heart raced, pounding violently in his chest as the remnants of the dream clung to him, vivid and inescapable. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to shake the images from his mind, but they lingered—soft touches, whispered words, the sensation of heat curling through him in ways it shouldn’t.

It had been more than a dream. It was more sinful, more explicit, and far too real. His skin still burned from where you had touched him, your hands roaming over his body with an intimacy that made his chest tighten with guilt. His throat was dry, aching, but not with thirst—no, with something far deeper and darker.

"God," he muttered, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Please..."

He shifted under the blankets, feeling the undeniable evidence of his arousal—a sickening reminder of what had transpired in the dream. Shame washed over him like a cold tide, dousing the warmth that had gripped him so fiercely only moments ago. He didn’t dare move, his entire being consumed by regret and disgust.

He couldn't believe he came from the mere thought of you. It was sickening—he felt like a teenager all over again. How could he have let this happen? How could his mind, his very body, betray him like this?

Your face flickered in his mind again—those eyes, filled with longing and desire, the way you had smiled at him, that wicked, knowing grin. It hadn’t been innocent, not in the least. You had touched him in ways he had never been touched in a while, ways he wasn’t supposed to experience again.

He threw back the covers, the cool air in the room hitting his overheated skin as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet hit the floor with a soft thud, and for a moment, he simply sat there, head in his hands, struggling to regain some semblance of control.

A priest wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to be consumed by desire, least of all for someone so... unattainable. Someone who had come to him for guidance, for spiritual comfort, not for whatever this had been.

He stood, shaking, the cold of the room biting into him. He needed to calm himself, to pray, to wash away the evidence of his sin.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget the dream. Couldn’t forget the way it had felt—the warmth, the pleasure, the ache of it all.

Father Charlie whispered a desperate prayer under his breath as he padded to the bathroom. As the water ran cold over his skin, he prayed again for strength—for a release from this burden that had taken hold of him.

But deep down, the fear gnawed at him: what if this wasn’t the last time? What if he wasn't strong enough to resist?

He shivered at the thought.

──

Father Charlie stood by the doorway of the church hall, his gaze sweeping over the room. The sounds of children’s laughter and the murmur of conversations filled the air as parents and volunteers mingled. It was a typical event—one that should’ve had his attention focused on the joyful chaos before him

But his focus was elsewhere.

You sat at a table on the far side of the room, your attention seemingly on the children around you, but there was an unmistakable shift in the air between the two of you. His eyes kept being drawn back to you, despite his efforts to look elsewhere, to find something—anything—that might distract him from the growing heat in his chest and the tightness in his pants.

Then, you slipped the bright red lollipop between your lips, the movement slow, deliberate, and utterly intoxicating. It was a seemingly innocent gesture, one that any onlooker might dismiss, but Charlie saw it for what it was—a silent taunt, a temptation that you knew he couldn’t tear his gaze from.

His throat tightened as he watched you, your eyes flicking up to meet his, a playful glint dancing behind them. You held his gaze as you swirled the candy in your mouth, the exaggerated motion sending a jolt of excitement and heat straight through him. It was subtle enough to avoid drawing attention from anyone else, but the intent behind it was clear.

You were tempting him. And he knew it.

Charlie clenched his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the back of a nearby chair. He felt torn between his duty—his responsibility to maintain control, to be the figure of moral guidance he was supposed to be—and the way his body reacted to you, the way desire simmered just beneath his skin.

You smirked around the lollipop, letting it slip slowly from your mouth before you spoke to the child beside you, your voice light and innocent. But your eyes remained locked on his for a beat longer, the unspoken tension hanging in the air.

Father Charlie turned away quickly, trying to suppress the fire burning through him. He felt as though he were in a battle with himself—a war between the man he was and the desires that he struggled to keep buried. His mind raced with guilt, knowing that this tension—this attraction—was something he should never indulge.

But when he glanced back at you, and saw the way your plump lips wrapped around the candy once more, his breath caught in his throat. The world around him—the event, the children, the laughter—seemed to blur into the background as you continued to play this dangerous game.

Every gesture, every glance, felt like a carefully orchestrated tease, one that made it impossible for him to look away, even though he knew he should.

Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest, the temptation pulling at him stronger than it had ever been before. He couldn’t let this go on, he told himself. He needed to leave, to step away before he lost control entirely.

But no matter how hard he tried to convince himself to walk away, the sight of you sitting there, sucking on that lollipop with a mischievous glint in your eye, held him captive.

He let out a sigh, feeling his pants tighten once more. He glanced down, there was a noticeable bulge poking out.

With a sharp inhale, he tore his gaze away from you and pushed himself toward the nearest exit, keeping his movements as natural as he could manage. His skin burned with shame as he walked, the feeling of his pants tightening only making his predicament worse. He kept his head low, praying no one would stop him on his way out.

Or worse, see the issue at hand.

The corridor leading to the church bathrooms was mercifully empty, the laughter and conversations fading behind him as he moved quickly toward the door marked Men. His steps were hurried, and by the time he reached the bathroom, his breath was ragged.

Charlie shoved the door open and stepped inside, locking it behind him. He leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as he tried to collect himself. His reflection in the mirror showed a man torn between the roles he was meant to fulfill and the raw human desire threatening to break through.

The bulge in his pants hadn’t lessened, and the sight of it brought another wave of heat crashing over him. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would block out the image of you, teasing and playful, with that lollipop in your mouth.

The temptation was too much, and he hated himself for it.

He couldn't think about you. He couldn't allow himself to dwell on the way your lips had moved, or the sly glint in your eyes, or the overwhelming desire that had burned in the pit of his stomach. He needed to focus. To rid himself of this unbearable need before it consumed him entirely.

With shaking hands, Charlie fumbled at his belt, a silent prayer escaping his lips, though he doubted any words of faith could cleanse the guilt twisting inside him now. He fought to keep his mind blank, but the image of you kept resurfacing—your teasing smile, your suggestive glances, the way your mouth had played with that lollipop as if you knew exactly what it was doing to him.

His breath hitched as he unzipped his pants, his mind waging a losing battle against his body's demands. This wasn’t what he wanted—not really—but the heat, the tension, the pressure… it was all too much. He felt helpless, lost in a battle he had no hope of winning.

He cursed under his breath as his hand moved over the fabric, the friction both a release and a deepening source of guilt. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep silent, though the shame only made his body more desperate for relief. It wasn’t just physical; it was emotional, a chaotic mix of guilt, desire, and the thrill of crossing a line he had vowed never to approach.

His thoughts flickered back to the church hall, imagining you sitting there, your eyes still locked on his, your lips still playing that dangerous game. But instead of the lollipop, it was his cock instead. You were looking up at him with those doe eyes, the ones he could never get enough of.

This was wrong—so terribly wrong—but in this moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

A strangled sigh escaped him as the tension inside built toward its inevitable conclusion. His movements became more frantic, his mind clouded with both desire and self-loathing. He fought to suppress the groan rising in his throat, his body betraying him as he sought the release he knew would come all too quickly.

But before he could cum, he heard a knock. His eyes snapped open, his body shaking. But his movements didn't falter.

"Taken!" He groaned out, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Father, it's me."

Charlie froze, his entire body going rigid at the sound of your voice. The very voice that had been the cause of his torment—the one that filled his thoughts during long, sleepless nights, and echoed in his mind during moments of prayer. Hearing it now, so close, made his stomach lurch with guilt and panic.

His hands were still trembling, his sticky arousal refusing to dissipate even as the cold wave of reality crashed down on him. He bit down on his lip, heart racing, his mind screaming at him to pull himself together. But the fact that you were standing just beyond the door, oblivious to the storm you'd stirred within him, made it impossible for him to think straight.

"Father?" your voice called again, this time with a soft, almost innocent lilt that twisted the knife deeper.

He swallowed hard, forcing his breathing to steady, though the heat in his chest hadn’t faded. His hand hovered over his zipper, shaking with the shame of what he had been doing just moments before. His body still ached with unresolved tension, but he pushed it down, trying to ignore the unbearable need that still pulsed through him.

"Yes?" His voice cracked as he finally spoke, hoarse and raw. He cleared his throat, trying to sound composed. "I... I’m a little busy at the moment."

There was a brief pause from the other side of the door, and he could almost imagine the look on your face—the innocent expression you always wore, one that belied the way you had been teasing him, testing him for weeks. You had to know what you were doing. There was no other explanation for it.

"Sorry, Father," you replied, your voice apologetic, but with that familiar hint of playfulness that made his pulse quicken. "I just... I wanted to talk to you. Is everything alright? You sounded a bit... off. You just ran off, and I was worried."

Worried? You knew damn well what you were doing.

His heart hammered in his chest. He wasn’t sure how to respond, especially when he could still feel the tightness in his pants, the shameful evidence of his struggle with temptation. He couldn’t let you see him like this. Not after what he had almost done. No, not almost—what he had done.

"I’m fine," he replied, the words rushing out too quickly. "Just—just give me a moment, please."

There was silence on the other side, and Father Charlie closed his eyes, cursing himself under his breath. He knew he needed to calm down, to suppress the lingering arousal that still throbbed through him, but it was nearly impossible with you standing just beyond the door, your voice echoing in his mind, a constant reminder of the desires he could no longer ignore.

"Okay, Father," you said after a long pause, your tone gentle, yet still laced with that underlying tease. "I’ll wait for you outside."

As soon as you spoke, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, his body slumping against the sink in a mixture of frustration and shame. He could still feel the tension coiled tightly in his core, but he had to ignore it now—had to push it down and find some semblance of control before he faced you.

Charlie adjusted his clothes quickly, forcing himself to focus on anything but the ache that still pulsed through him. He wiped the sweat from his brow, straightened his collar, and took a long, deep breath.

The door was still locked, but knowing you were just outside filled him with dread and anticipation in equal measure. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could withstand the temptation you had placed in front of him, but for now, he had to pretend. He had to keep up the façade of control, even as the cracks in his resolve grew deeper by the day

With one final glance in the mirror, Father Charlie steeled himself and turned the lock, pulling the door open to face the very source of his downfall.

And there you were, standing just a few feet away, your eyes wide and innocent—though he knew better than to believe it was all innocence. You were a temptation he could barely resist, and every interaction only pulled him further into the darkness he'd been desperately trying to avoid.

"Is everything alright, Father?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, that sweet, familiar smile on your lips. But your eyes—those teasing eyes—held a glimmer that set his heart racing once more.

"Y-yes," he stammered, his throat tight, doing everything in his power to keep his voice steady. "Everything’s fine."

But as you looked up at him, your gaze lingering just a moment too long, Father Charlie knew this battle was far from over.

Your eyes glanced down at his pants, his bulge evident. Your eyebrows rose as you blinked up at him, the same teasing smile on your plump lips. "You don't look fine, Father."

The way you said his title almost made his knees buckle. He couldn't handle it, not anymore. "What do you think?" He snapped.

Your teasing smile widened, clearly pleased by the crack in Father Charlie's composure. His words, harsh and unsteady, only seemed to encourage you. You took a small step closer, the space between you shrinking as the tension in the air thickened, palpable and dangerous.

"What do I think?" you repeated, your voice soft and sweet, but laced with a knowing edge that sent another jolt through him. "I think you’ve been struggling, Father. I can see it in your eyes… feel it in the way you look at me."

He clenched his jaw, fists balling at his sides. Every instinct screamed for him to shut this down, to end the conversation and walk away before he did something he could never take back. But the heat burning in his chest, the tightness in his pants, and the way you gazed up at him with those teasing, taunting eyes made it impossible for him to think clearly.

His breath hitched, his throat tightening as he tried to keep his voice level, to maintain the last threads of control he still had. "You... need to leave," he muttered through gritted teeth, though the command sounded more like a plea. He took a step back, trying to put distance between you, but his back hit the wall, trapping him in a corner.

You didn’t follow him, but your eyes stayed locked on his, your lips parting ever so slightly as you spoke again. "Do you want me to leave, Father?" you asked, your voice dripping with temptation, your tone making it clear you knew the answer before he could even speak.

He opened his mouth to respond, to say yes, to do what he knew was right, but the words wouldn’t come. His body betrayed him, still trembling with the aftermath of the temptation he had barely controlled just moments ago. The guilt twisted deeper in his chest, but with you standing there, so close, so dangerous, he couldn’t bring himself to push you away.

You took another small step forward, your eyes flicking down once more to the bulge straining against his pants. "You don’t look like you want me to go," you murmured, your voice low and intimate.

The way you said it, so confidently, so calmly, broke something inside him. His breathing quickened, the shame mixing with desire in a way that left him dizzy and unable to think straight. His hands itched to reach out, to grab you, to pull you closer, but he forced them to stay at his sides, his knuckles white from the effort of holding back.

"Fuck," he got out before he finally grabbed your wrist. "You know exactly what you're doing, don't you?"

You didn't respond, just stared back at him with a smirk. "What you mean—"

"Shh, shut up. Just shut up," Father Charlie got out as his grip on your wrist tighten. He looked around the empty corridors and pulled you into the bathroom, practically pushing you into it. He slammed the door behind him, locking it.

The slam of the door echoed through the small bathroom, the sound sharp and final. Father Charlie stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he fought to keep a grip on himself. The small, dimly lit space felt suffocating, the walls closing in as the tension between you thickened, charged with unspoken desire.

You leaned back against the sink, your expression still playful, teasing, as if you held all the power in this twisted game. And maybe you did. You watched him, your smirk never fading, as his eyes darkened with lust, the lines between what was right and what he wanted blurring faster than he could stop them.

"Father," you whispered, your voice lilting, almost mocking as it dripped with the weight of temptation. "We really shouldn't—"

"I told you to shut up," he growled, cutting you off. His voice was rough, raw with the conflict tearing him apart. But his body betrayed him, his hands trembling as he reached out, fingers wrapping around your arm with a grip that was both desperate and unsteady.

For weeks, he had tried to deny it—to push down the thoughts, the fantasies, the overwhelming pull of desire you had stirred within him. But now, standing here with you, the air thick with temptation, he felt like a man on the edge of a cliff, teetering between control and the abyss.

"Do you think this is a game?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, though you could hear the tremor beneath it. He stepped closer, towering over you, his body radiating heat. "Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? The looks, the way you talk to me, the way you… tease me?"

You met his gaze, unflinching, your smile widening. "Maybe it is a game," you said softly, tilting your head, eyes dancing with mischief. "But you’re the one who's playing along."

His grip tightened, his breath hitching as your words sank in. He hated how true they were. Every time he had looked at you, every moment his mind had wandered to the things he shouldn't have been thinking—he had been playing into this. And now, he was standing on the edge of a line he couldn’t afford to cross.

But he had already crossed it, hadn't he?

"Shut up," he whispered again, though this time his voice was weaker, the command laced with more desperation than authority. His free hand pressed against the wall beside you, his body leaning in closer, so close he could feel the heat radiating from your skin.

You tilted your chin up, eyes gleaming as you watched him struggle, as if you were daring him to let go of the last shreds of control he clung to. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted you to push him over the edge.

"Or what?" you whispered back, the challenge clear in your tone.

Father Charlie’s jaw clenched, his entire body tense as he wrestled with himself, his grip on you tightening. His breath was hot and ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared down at you. For a moment, it seemed like he might pull back, that he might step away, regain the control that had been slipping through his fingers.

But then he kissed you.

It was sudden, rough, and filled with the weeks of pent-up desire he had been fighting so hard to contain. His lips crashed against yours, his hands pulling you closer, as if giving in to the temptation that had been haunting him was the only way to make the ache go away.

The kiss was hungry, desperate, and you could feel the conflict in every movement—how he both wanted this and hated himself for wanting it.

You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. His hands slid up and down your back before suddenly finding your hair, pulling it back from the kiss.

"You're a whore," he gritted out as he gripped your hair impossibly rougher. "A whore in disguise, aren't you? You feign innocence but you're the most sinful in this Church."

Father Charlie's words were harsh, laced with anger and lust, but the grip in your hair sent a different message—desire and desperation. His brown eyes, dark and conflicted, bore into yours as he pulled you even closer, his breath hot against your skin. His control was slipping, unraveling faster with every second, and he knew it.

You smiled up at him, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. "If I'm sinful, Father, then what does that make you?" you asked softly, your voice teasing, daring him to continue.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing at your words, a low growl escaping his throat as he yanked your head back, exposing your neck. "It makes me weak," he muttered, his lips ghosting over your skin. "Weak because of you. Because of the way you tempt me."

His mouth hovered just inches from your neck, his breath warm, his body pressed against yours, every movement charged with the weight of the forbidden. His hands, still tangled in your hair, trembled with a mixture of restraint and hunger.

"You're what’s wrong with me," he whispered, his voice hoarse, as if he were trying to convince himself of the words as much as he was trying to convince you. "You’ve dragged me down to your level. Made me forget everything I stand for. Everything I’m supposed to be."

But even as he spoke, his lips brushed your neck, leaving a trail of heated, fleeting kisses along your skin. His body moved on instinct, driven by the desire he could no longer deny.

Father Charlie's lips pressed harder against your neck, his breath ragged as his restraint dissolved. His words, filled with self-loathing, contradicted the urgency of his touch. Each kiss grew more desperate, more reckless, as if he were trying to bury the shame and guilt in the taste of your skin. His grip in your hair tightened, pulling you closer, and the tension between you ignited into something explosive, something neither of you could stop now.

His free hand roamed down your body, fingertips pressing into your waist, his touch both rough and reverent, like he was grappling with the weight of his own desire. Every brush of his hand, every kiss, was a betrayal of the man he had once been. But the way your body responded, the way you leaned into him, only fueled the fire burning inside him.

"God help me," he whispered against your collarbone, the words barely audible, as if he were speaking them to himself more than to you. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

You let out a soft moan, your hands tangling in his hair, encouraging him to continue, to give in completely. His resolve crumbled further with every sound you made, every movement of your body against his. The line between right and wrong, between control and surrender, had long since vanished.

Charlie pulled back for a moment, his eyes wild, filled with a mix of anger, lust, and confusion. His chest heaved as he looked at you, torn between pushing you away and pulling you even closer.

"I hate you for this," he rasped, though the heat in his eyes betrayed the truth. "But I can’t stop. I can’t stop wanting you."

You smiled, a knowing, satisfied smile, as your hand slid down his chest. "Then don’t stop," you whispered, your voice dripping with seduction, coaxing him deeper into the darkness.

That was all it took. With a frustrated growl, he crashed his lips against yours again, harder this time, as if punishing both of you for the sinful desire you had ignited. His hands roamed freely now, no longer held back by hesitation or fear. There was only the raw, uncontrollable need consuming him.

Whatever consequences lay ahead, whatever guilt or shame waited for him on the other side of this moment, Father Charlie couldn’t bring himself to care. Not anymore.

Charlie yanked your hair back again, then stared into your eyes. Without warning, he pushed you to your knees roughly. "How about you do something useful for once, huh?" He muttered breathlessly.

You blinked back up at him, your hands finding their place on his hips. You moved slow and deliberate, which angered Charlie more. Charlie’s eyes darkened as he looked down at you, his grip on your hair tightening, pulling at your scalp just enough to make you gasp. The frustration in his gaze was palpable—fueled by your deliberate slowness, by the way you reveled in the power you had over him.

“You think this is funny?” he growled, his breath ragged as he watched you, his fingers digging into your scalp. His frustration was obvious, but beneath that anger was a raw, unquenchable desire. He hated how much control you had over him, how easily you made him lose himself.

You smiled up at him, slow and teasing, your fingers trailing over his hips, letting him feel the barest touch of your hands. “Maybe it is,” you whispered, eyes gleaming with mischief, enjoying every second of his torment. "At least, to me it is."

You could feel the tension radiating from him, the barely contained hunger in his every movement. Slowly, teasingly, you ran your hands lower, grazing over the bulge straining against his pants, earning a sharp intake of breath from him.

Charlie’s hand tightened in your hair as a low growl escaped his throat. “You think you’re so fucking clever,” he rasped, his voice low and dangerous, his grip on you firm as he stared down with a mix of lust and anger. “But you’re going to regret this.”

Your smirk widened, and without breaking eye contact, you undid his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a soft clink. His breath hitched as you slowly unzipped his pants, the anticipation thick between you, hanging in the air like a loaded weapon.

“Prove it,” you challenged, your voice a soft murmur as you looked up at him, daring him to follow through on his words.

For a moment, Charlie stood there, his chest heaving, torn between the overwhelming desire that had consumed him and the guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind. But the pull of temptation was too strong—too powerful to resist any longer.

With a grunt of frustration, he grabbed the back of your neck, forcing you forward as he freed himself. “I don’t care what happens after this,” he growled, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with lust and anger. “Right now, you’re mine. And you're gonna do what I fucking tell you.”

You barely had time to respond before he pushed your mouth onto his cock, rough and demanding, his hand guiding you with a forceful grip. The suddenness of it made your breath catch, but you quickly adjusted, falling into a rhythm as he set the pace, his body trembling with the intensity of his need.

You wrapped your lips around him, moaning. His cock was dripping with pre-cum, and your saliva made it messier—but neither of you cared. The bathroom was filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing, punctuated by the occasional low moan as you worked him with sloppy, measured motions. His hips thrust forward, pushing deeper, his control rapidly slipping away as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

Your mouth was so warm and inviting, he couldn't stop. This was what heaven felt like, he swore—there was nothing better than this feeling, the feeling of your sinful mouth.

Charlie’s hand tightened in your hair, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your scalp as he lost himself in the moment, all thoughts of guilt or consequences forgotten. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely more than a growl as his head fell back, eyes fluttering shut. “You… you’re such a fucking tease.”

He pushed you until you were gagging around his cock, much to his dismay. "Take it, whore. This is what you wanted, right? For me to use you?"

Your eyes were watering and your jaw felt like it was going to break, but his mean words egged you on. You hummed around him, a wicked smile curling at the edges of your lips as you kept gliding up and down his cock.

But just as he was on the edge, just as the tension in his body built to an unbearable peak, he suddenly yanked you off him, breathless and furious, eyes blazing as he stared down at you.

“Get up,” he commanded, his voice low and guttural, barely holding onto the last threads of control. “Turn around, whore.”

You barely had any time to react before he turned you around to face the mirror. He bent you over the sink as you let out a whimper, before his hands found your hair again and yanked it up.

"Look at you," he murmured as he forced you to look at yourself.

Your hair was a mess, your mascara running down your doe eyes and your sticky cheeks and chin. You caught your breath as you glanced back to meet his eyes through the mirror.

He bent you completely over the sink and landed a sharp slap on your behind. You let out a yelp, shutting your eyes at the stinging feeling. "Fuck,"

"What? Is it too much now, baby?" Charlie spoke, his voice dripping with mockery. His lips were curved into a smirk as he tutted. "This is what you wanted, right?"

He didn't give you time to respond before leading the tip of cock to your folds. You felt his heavy tip on your sloppy entrance, practically begging to get fucked. He hadn't even gotten the chance to touch you properly and you were already soaked.

He hummed at the warm feeling before pushing inside. He let out a huff of air, his head falling back in pure ecstasy. "Oh, yeah," was all he could get out. Your hands found the edge of the sink, gripping it tightly as you let out a desperate moan.

Charlie pushed himself all the way in, bottoming you out within a few quick seconds. He didn't even let you adjust to his size before he began slamming you into roughly, the edge of the sink burying into your stomach.

His thrusts were sharp and relentless, he wasn't letting up anytime soon. You felt like you were on a different planet, the feeling of his cock was dizzying as your eyes rolled back into your head.

"O-oh, fuck!" You cried out as your head fell forward.

Charlie gripped your hips even tighter as he groaned with each slam of his own hips, his head falling back. Your cunt tighten around his cock, and he felt your release coming. One of his hands reached up to grip your head roughly.

"Don't you dare cum, not yet," He got out breathlessly as you tried your best to nod. "Do not cum."

You squeezed, holding off your orgasm as you were told. You didn't know if you could—but you knew the consequences would be dire, Charlie wasn't playing around anymore.

A few harsh slams and he was cumming deep inside you, his moans echoing in the small bathroom. He rode out his high, his grip in your hair not easing one bit. "Fucking take it,"

You whimpered as you tried to hold off your orgasm, tears falling from your eyes as you gripped the sink. Without warning, he slipped out of you.

Your eyes opened and you turned around to face him. "Charlie—"

He cut you off swiftly as he pulled his pants up. "You don't deserve it,"

"Deserve it?" You practically cried out. "I just let you fuck me and you're not gonna let me cum?"

Father Charlie just shrugged. "Whores don't get to cum."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[inthelittlewood]

So, just out of curiosity, are you thinking of making episodes for rats 2 like you did for all the other pow creations smps? If not, that's okay (:

I'm really not sure currently. For full transparency, the previous episodes of both series made on average about £40 individually. The occasional one flicked up to NEARLY £100, but they're real anomalies. Thumbnail costs take up a good portion of that 40, then what's left, divided by the hours it takes to condense masses of content down to episode form would be a wage grossly below minimum wage. It's not smart financially or motivationally to proceed that way.

I've always been proud of the end products of each episode / series but I had revenue coming from other sources that have since dried up. I can't make purely artistic decisions when I have mouths to feed and a home to maintain.

I've been quiet on video content this year because I've not had an SMP play in, so streaming became a primary earner. Even that was propped up significantly by our Logitech/Streamlabs sponsorship - which concluded unexpectedly early at the end of September due to budget adjustments on their end (zero bad feelings regarding that btw, it was all done fairly and by the contract, it was quarterly renewals and I was communicated respectfully with)

I'm lucky that Wild Life has come along when it has, as it gives me a little breathing room to try and secure a new sponsor or at least compile a content plan for late 2024 / early 2025.

Even my Life series barely pass the threshold to where an editor wouldn't gobble up the majority of the revenue. That one is a real 50/50 between coming out net neutral, or coming out with a minimal profit. It's rough. Speaking honestly, I'm a tad nervous about the immediate future, but I promise this isn't a post trying to rouse pity or spur on donations/subs etc, it's just transparency as I've always operated. It feels better laying it out so analytically because it gives people context and answers the FAQ of "why don't you just hire someone", the overhead isn't there.

I'm going to start putting the feelers out to try and secure a new partnership, I have one conversation pending and if we can I'll nab some sponsored streams more often to raise the tides.

That said, we are headed in to the best time of year for ad revenue on YouTube especially, but it's not quite the 5x multiplier I would need to sensibly navigate my situation ha

The only viable solution currently would be to crowd source funds to cover the costs of the work for making the episodes, whether that be paid to me and I edit them myself or more ideally, an editor, so I can focus my efforts in to producing another piece of content. I've no idea what the Patreon/Kofi/Crowdfunding landscape is like currently both mechanically and socially. Are they a thing people subscribe to anymore? They inherently come with more pressures too which I'm nervous to take on.

I'm likely to get inbox messages offering to edit for free or at a reduced fee, but PLEASE DON'T DO THAT. Even if you're framing it as good practice, or a portfolio/client list piece, I wouldn't feel comfortable with that. It's a very sweet gesture and I totally understand showing that initiative / sincerity, I've been there, but those scenarios can too often be miscommunicated or misconstrued and it gets messy. People's time and talents deserve compensation.

So tl;dr answer is I'm not sure, I might try an episode 1 to see how it performs, but it's not looking great. Sorry.

[moonstruckme]

reader making a new friend (who is a male btw) and poly!marauders get jealous and snap at reader, for example saying, ‘go hang out with ____ ‘ and reader understands and reassures them that no such thing as reader leaving marauders would ever happen.

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 860 words

"There you are, angel!" James gushes as you walk in the door. "We've been waiting, where've you been?"

You stop short, caught offguard by the onslaught of attention as three pairs of eyes pin you in front of the door. Your boyfriends are all sitting at the table, untouched bowls of pasta in front of them and one by your empty chair.

"Sorry," you say slowly, easing your bag off your shoulder and taking off your shoes. "I didn't realize you were waiting. Liam wanted to show me some new music he's found, so I stayed late." You hustle to your chair, and James begins shoveling pasta into his mouth eagerly.

"Oh, Liam asked you to stay," Sirius says drily, stabbing at his bowl with a fork. "Awesome."

You frown. Liam started at your work a couple of months ago, and the two of you had hit it off immediately. He was funny, you liked a lot of the same things, and everyone who you'd introduced him to adored him. Everyone, except your boyfriends. "He didn't ask me to stay, I offered because I wanted to hear it. And I didn't ask you to wait up for me, either."

James swallows. "We tried to call you, and texted you a bunch," he says, and the quiet of his voice is so unlike him that your anxiety instantly heightens.

You whip out your phone, seeing missed calls and texts from each of the boys taking up the entire screen. You'd forgotten to turn the sound back on after your shift.

"I'm sorry," you say, putting it away, and you mean it, but none of the boys really seems to want to look at you.

And as quickly as your shame rose to the surface, indignation comes in to replace it. This is so unlike them. Sirius will occaisionally make a teasing comment about you leaving them for one of your celebrity crushes, but none of your boyfriends are truly the jealous type. You're in a polyamorous relationship, for Merlin's sake. This sort of possessiveness has never been part of the deal.

"What's your problem with him?" You stare them down in turn, and only Sirius is bold enough to meet your heated gaze.

"You're with him when you should be with us!" He snaps. "Just look at tonight—James made dinner, and where were you? With him! So why are you even here now? Let's just cut the bullshit, and you can go hang out with Liam."

James had...James never cooks. That always falls to you or Remus, but tonight...you look at the pasta, which you've yet to take a bite of, and you're hit with a guilt that feels like nausea. It's your favorite. James cooked it for you.

"You have been seeing a lot of him lately," Remus says quietly, and his tone is more controlled than Sirius', but you see the protective hand he sets on James' knee under the table. "And you talk about him all the time. Do you really not see why our minds would go there?"

"I didn't...you guys are serious about this?" Your voice wavers, and that gets them all to look at you. You see the truth of it in their faces, sullen and embarrassed and tense, as if apprehensive of what you'll do next. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way, I—fuck, Jamie, can I give you a hug?"

"Course," he says softly, and rush to him, pressing your face into his dark curls.

"Thank you for dinner, love," you say, feeling like your heart is breaking. "I didn't mean to be late, and I should have remembered to turn my phone back on, I'm so sorry. This is so lovely of you." You turn so you can see the other boys, still cradling James' head in one hand. "Liam and I are just friends, I promise. I didn't know...I thought it was just teasing, the way you talked about him. I didn't mean to let you worry. And I'm sorry if I've been blowing you off lately."

"It hasn't been that often, dove." Remus is the first to warm, looking at you kindly. "Just, could you let us know if you're going to be very late?"

You feel like your chest has hollowed out at the realization of how this has been weighing on them. "Yeah, of course." You release James to return to your seat, leaning over to press a kiss to Sirius' head as you pass him, and he rolls his eyes with a reluctance you suspect is mostly feigned by now. "You really think I could find someone better than you three? You're out of your minds," you quip, taking some pasta onto your fork and inhaling the aroma of the sauce appreciatively. You think you see James sit up a bit straighter with pride. "As if there's anyone who could give me more than what I already have. Honestly, I'm at full capacity, love-wise."

Sirius snorts, finally eating some of his own pasta. "I know. This apartment is hardly large enough for the four of us, where would Liam sleep?"

[yoyomomiko]

Can I request jealous Daisuke hcs?? Maybe even the other way around where the reader is jealous :D!!! I LOVE your hcs for Daisuke!!

Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader (gender not mentioned, but that's what I had in mind while writing this)

Warnings: cringe, the SMALLEST mention of marking, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

(A/N): TYSMMMM🙌 The way you READ MY MIND because I've been thinking of doing Daisuke jealousy headcanons for some time now, I just kinda waited for the perfect opportunity😋 Also I'm so sorry this is a bit boring and kinda short, I wanted it to be longer😔 -> m.list

★HE'S JEALOUS

Alright so I feel like Daisuke would be more quiet when jealous. He's gonna feel insecure and upset.

BUT, I feel like he can also be very loud or simply show the fact that he's jealous.

I mean he'd throw his hand around your waist, kiss you and make it known that you're his.

"Whatcha talking about?" "This is one of my old friends, we just wanted to catch up." "Yeah, very fun, babe, but didn't you say we're gonna be late?"

Please, REASSURE THIS MAN that you love him and ONLY him.

Make sure to praise him too😔

His confidence might get a bit ruined, and probably feel dull the rest of the day, still the same Daisuke, just a bit less happy.

SO THAT'S WHY YOU NEED TO ASSURE HIM THAT YOU'RE HIS AND HE'S YOURS‼️

You can literally do anything to give him a boost, buy him ice cream and he's gonna forgive you (you didn't do anything wrong but whatevs🙄)

Btw he's into marking just to throw that out there

★YOU'RE JEALOUS

Daisuke's gonna find this a bit amusing, probably is gonna tease you the rest of the day.

If you're not having it, he's gonna apologize PROFUSELY.

Imagine you don't forgive him tho like he's gonna feel so bad and guilty (who WOULDN'T forgive him)

He's talking to a random stranger, giving them directions, although he's smiling a bit too much their way, and he's also a little too close to them.

The moment they're done talking you cross your arms and ignore him, or you can just express yourself😢

"What's with the face?" "Nothing." "Wait, don't tell me you're jealous..." "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not." "No way! Are you seriously jealous? You know I love you!"

He WILL be laughing at first, just to let you know.

Daisuke also WILL reassure you, the moment you get back home or whatever he's gonna be all over you, kissing you and whispering whatever sweet stuff comes up in his mind.

He understands the feeling, and doesn't want you to be upset or mad, especially at him.

He's SO gonna brighten up your mood, with anything you want. He's probably gonna buy you something as an apology, even if he didn't do anything😢

★yoyomiko ★miko

[rollinouttahere-writes]

It took the better part of a year, but I've finally figured out where to go with Joyride. A lot of people have been asking for this, so I hope it lives up to your expectations.

Joyride (Part 2)

Part 1

Yandere Ace x GN Isekai Reader

4.8k words

Warning! This contains pretty much every Ace related spoiler btw!

When going into a world you already know everything about, you don’t exactly expect to be surprised by anything. Sure, there will be slight changes and alternate interactions now that you’ve been unceremoniously dropped in, but you had been anticipating for the story to follow all the same beats.

Which is why you were really thrown off when Ace didn’t go his separate way when he was supposed to.

Luffy had succeeded in defeating Crocodile and stopping his plan for dictatorship of Alabasta, but Ace was still here. Granted, having Ace around was hardly the worst thing that could happen, but you didn’t understand what was going on with him.

After your downright bizarre interaction during the little joyride he took you on, you’d honestly had every intention of avoiding him going forward. Then he threw a curveball at you by sincerely apologizing later that night. With everything going on right now he just got a little carried away, that’s all, he won’t harass you about it again. Or so he claimed.

You were skeptical initially, but true to his word, he hasn’t brought up you joining the Whitebeard Pirates since. Between that, and him having an unknown advantage over you by being a favorite character of yours, it was easy to find it within yourself to forgive him. You two have been borderline inseparable since, much to the chagrin of your crewmates. 

While Ace hadn’t openly made further attempts to convince you to join his pops’ crew, he’d found a thinly veiled loophole in the form of telling you all kinds of stories about them. You knew this was in and of itself, a method to win you over, but deemed it not worth calling out. Besides, who were you to refuse the opportunity to get some Whitebeard Pirates lore?

There were many late nights filled with quiet conversations about various shenanigans the crew got up to in their free time, of which there were many. An unsurprising fact because of course having that many sibling jam packed onto a ship would turn it into a vessel of chaos. 

If you had a weaker resolve, these stories might have won you over. But no, you need to go home.

Even though you weren’t convinced on switching crews, or even just staying here, there was a different problem arising from all your quality time together.

The longer you spoke and goofed around with him, the deeper and more intricate the conversations became, the more human he became to you. Or course, he’d technically always been a human being, but your mind had always registered him (as well as everyone else here) as a “character” first and foremost. A figure in a fictional story which you just so happened to be in temporarily. 

Now? After spending so much time with him, aftering seeing him make decisions based off his own experiences and preferences rather than being dictated by some omnipotent author, things have changed. He wasn’t Portgas D. Ace, the fan favorite character from One Piece. He was just Ace, your friend.

With this came something you never saw coming. Guilt. An all consuming, agonizing guilt that picked away at you every single second of the day.

You knew what was to come. You knew what was going to happen to him. What were you doing about it? Absolutely nothing. And for what? For the sake of preserving a story that’s already been altered from your mere presence?

What a disgusting excuse of a friend you were.

The internal conflict you were going through hadn’t gone unnoticed, not when it was taking such a high toll on you. Nami was the first to start grilling you on it. Naturally, she immediately started pointing fingers at Ace as being the cause, which while not wrong, she wasn’t correct in the way she believed herself to be either. It was hardly his fault that you had a heavy conscience. 

Sanji had also picked up on your struggles and was very concerned about the bags under your eyes, even offering to make some tea to assist with sleeping. An offer you turned down perhaps more harshly than truly necessary, but being trapped in a deeper sleep sounded awful with the nightmares you’ve been having.

It had been upsetting enough to watch Ace die through a screen, but in your dreams you were right there. It felt so real.

A suffocating heat burned at your skin and seared your lungs with every panicked breath, which only became more frantic as hot blood splattered over your face. Life was rapidly draining from Ace’s eyes as he collapsed into the waiting arms of his now deeply traumatized brother.

Your feet were rooted to the ground, all you could do was stare in horror as he looked up at you with tearful, pleading eyes. “Why?” The word was more so coughed out than spoken, spraying out more blood that he couldn’t afford to lose. An arm extended towards you, the hand locking onto your own. His nails dug into your skin, drawing out blood of your own to mix with his into a revolting cocktail. “You could have stopped this. How could you do this to me?”

The last word was wheezed out and his body went limp as his dead, lifeless eyes stared through you. A soul wrenching scream tore its way out of Luffy’s throat, only to morph into your own as you were mercifully ripped from your slumber.

The screaming damn near gave Ace a heart attack, you’re sure of it. This nightmare had occurred after you and him had become separated from the rest of the group while traversing the desert, and you had found a compact cave for the two of you to pass the night in.

What made it worse was how he reacted. He was so concerned, even fretting over you as you desperately tried to get your breathing under control. The compassion in his eyes had done nothing to comfort you, it only served to further sicken you. Here he was wanting to save you from something as trivial as a nightmare, yet you couldn’t be bothered to speak up on and prevent his upcoming demise.

The guilt was killing you, and the solution was not only clear, but easy. So why couldn’t you bring yourself to just tell him? To plead and beg for him to give up the chase and not throw his life away. Yet your lips remained sealed. 

All of these elements came to a boil and demanded your attention, so you did what seemed to be the easiest thing to do in your situation. Drink it away.

Now that Luffy had awoken from his brief coma after fighting Crocodile, Alubarna Palace was hosting a lavish party in celebration and thanks for what everyone had done. And what high end party would be complete without absurd amounts of alcohol?

It started with one, purely to help ease your nerves. However, when it didn’t, you poured yourself another. And then a few more. Zoro had initially been thrilled to have you as a drinking buddy, but apparently even he had his limits and had cut you off.

“The hell’s gotten into you? You’re drinking like you’re trying to run from demons,” the bottle of expensive liquor had been moved out of reach when you tried to go for it again.

“You have no idea,” you slurred out, head spinning from your evening of poor decision making.

Zoro shot you a questioning look, but didn’t press it, likely knowing full well that getting a coherent conversation out of you right now would be impossible. He heaved out a sigh and stood up, “I’m going to get you some water, stay right there.”

Thoroughly defeated, you slumped back into your chair. After all that, you still couldn’t get your dilemma out of your head. Your “demons” continued gnawing at your soul, and all that your drinking had done about it was ensure that you would have a miserable hangover in the morning.

Your head lulled to the side, and you caught sight of a familiar orange hat. Speak of the devil. While you were in the throws of self inflicted misery, Ace was happily taking advantage of all the food being offered. Good for him. He deserved a nice night. 

As if acting on its own, your body managed to get up onto its feet. You shambled towards him, doing your best not to fall flat on your face with each uncoordinated step. Whatever invisible force that had been helping you to make the walk to Ace failed you at the last second, and you crashed into him from behind.

“Shit! Wha- Oh, it’s just you,” Ace whirled around, visibly agitated, but his features relaxed when he realized who it was. He appeared to be ready to say more but you cut him off.

“I need to talk to you.” 

Ace quirked a brow, “Yeah? What’s up?” 

From the expectant look he was giving you, it’s clear that he’s waiting for you to spill your guts here and now. You shook your head, “No, it’s… It’s a secret. We have to go somewhere else.” Realization flashed across his face and he nodded. Fortunately for you, he led the way. You honestly did not think you’d be able to scout out a place for this discussion. You were finally going to come clean and tell him everything before you could sober up and come to your senses.  

It was going well. At least it was, until he passed out and took you down with him. You both collided onto the floor with a resounding thud, him on top of you. The hall you’d slipped into was empty, meaning there was no one here to help you. 

You groaned as you attempted to move, the fall had hit you harder than it should have thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol in your system. You were also mentally kicking yourself for not seeing this coming. He was eating when you stumbled into him, of course it was only a matter of time before this happened.

Whatever, there isn’t time to be bemoaning a minor inconvenience. You manage to shimmy out from under him and use the wall to get to your feet. Ace is snoring on the floor, not a care in the world. Hopefully he’ll wake up soon. 

Taking a look around, you see a door just a couple steps away. You inch your way over to it and try the knob. It clicks open, and you peer in. Looks like some sort of guest room, and it’s empty. Perfect.

Pushing the door open fully, you turn back to Ace. He’s still asleep, but you don’t want to wait around for him to wake up on his own and run the risk of being seen. You lean down to grab the closest part of him, his right foot, and pull. You’re not sure if he’s actually heavy, or if you’re just too drunk for this, but you tip over while trying to do this and fall flat on your ass.

“Huh?” Ace’s head snapped up and he looked around owlishly. The second his eyes connected with yours, he remembered what he was doing before his narcoleptic tendencies took the wheel. He laughed, a light blush on his face, as he got to his feet, “Sorry about that, you alright?”

“I’m fine, get in here,” you urged him to hurry, which he did. In the time it took you to stand again, Ace had already slipped into the room, closed the door, and flicked on a lamp so you two wouldn’t be talking in complete darkness. You eye the door for a moment, then grab a chair and drag it over to wedge it under the doorknob. Someone walking in on the conversation you were about to have would be something of a worst case scenario.

Ace watched this curiously, “Is everything okay?”

This probably looked weird, but oh well, it’s about to get a lot weirder. You decide to sit on the bed and motion for Ace to join you, which he does. You take one of his hands in both of yours and stare at him intensely, “I need to tell you something. It’s going to sound insane, but you need to promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.”

He repeated his previous question, asking again if everything was okay, but you cut him off, “Promise me, please!”

Your desperation got through to him, “Okay, I promise! What’s going on?”

Here goes nothing. You take a deep breath and take the leap, “You need to stop going after Blackbeard.”

Ace recoiled immediately, and if you hadn’t been holding onto his hand for dear life, he probably would have backed away from you. “What? I can’t do that, why would y-”

“Let me finish!” You snapped at him, only to immediately regret it. You sighed, “Please. There’s more, please let me finish talking first, and then you can talk.”

While he did not look happy about it, he did relax his shoulders and settled back into the bed. You took this as your cue to continue, “You need to stop going after Blackbeard because you will die if you do.” Ace exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes at this, assuming that this was coming from a place of fear and doubt.

“I know this because,” you took in a shuddering breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. “I know this because in the world that I came from… This world is a story.”

Ace stares at you wide eyed and slack jawed. He laughed, but was very clearly uncomfortable, “I, uh, I think you’ve had a little too much to drink tonight. How about I take you back to your room to sleep it off, okay?” 

He tried to stand, but you yanked him back down, “No! I’m not drunk! Well, I mean, I am, but I know what I’m talking about! I can prove it.”

His expression was nothing short of incredulous, but he indulged you, “Yeah, okay, sure. Go ahead, prove it.”

“You’re hunting down Blackbeard because he murdered Thatch so he could steal his devil fruit,” you started light. Ace had told you about Thatch being the one he was avenging, but he’d never mentioned the devil fruit before, likely not deeming it an important enough detail. His brows knit together and his eyes drifted upwards as he racked his brain to remember if maybe he actually had said something about it.

“Before you were with Whitebeard, you were captain of the Spade Pirates. Your first member was Masked Deuce, who you met while being stranded on an island together. It’s where you found your devil fruit and built Striker,” he hadn’t told you anything in regards to his old crew, and his face reflected that. You definitely had his attention now.

“You and Luffy were raised by mountain bandits because Garp couldn’t raise you two himself. It wasn’t just you guys, though, you had another brother named Sabo, but he was killed when he tried to set sail and got shot down,” at this point, you were saying whatever came to mind with no regard to whether or not it was a good idea to say this right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to keep looking him in the eye, so you settled for staring at his hand in yours. It was completely slack.

“Your parents are Portgas D. Rouge and Gol D. R-”

Before you could finish the sentence, Ace’s free hand clamped over your mouth with such ferocity that you almost fell off the bed. Forcing yourself to make eye contact again, you see that his are blown wide and wild. The color has been drained from his face and he looked physically ill from hearing everything you just threw at him.

An extremely tense moment passed with nothing to be heard beyond his labored breathing. Then, he hesitantly let go of your face and with a shaky voice said, “Okay. I’m sorry. I believe you. What… What’s going to happen if I keep pursuing Blackbeard?”

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat, but it refused to go away, “When you catch up with him, you’ll fight, but lose. Your powers are no match for his, you don’t stand a chance against him. After your loss, he turns you in to the marines. 

“Because of who your father is, they decide to make an example out of you and sentence you to death.”

“That bastard turns me in and I get executed?” He sounds like the wind has just been knocked out of him. Disbelief and bitterness are the two most prevalent emotions in his tone, but many others brew beneath the surface.

“Not exactly,” it’s true that he gets turned in and killed, but it’s nowhere near that simple and straightforward. “Luffy comes to your rescue at Marineford, and so does Whitebeard and a lot of his crew.”

Before you could go more into detail, Ace speaks up, “They… W-Why would they do that?”

“Why would they- You have to ask?!” Your voice raises and you have to remind yourself of just how much character development he has to go through in that arc to finally realize and accept the fact that he’s genuinely loved. “Because you’re family, their family! They care about you and don’t want to see you die!”

Your outburst shocked him, but not as much as seeing you start to cry did. His hand is abandoned and you lurch forward to bring him into a suffocatingly tight hug, “Y-You are so loved, you know that? They l-love you so much! A lot of people do! I do! We all want to see you live and be happy!” You limply hang off of him as more tears bubble to the surface, greedily taking the chance to escape with every sob as you finally let out everything you’ve been keeping in. Ace makes no move to return your embrace, he just sits there stiff as a board. 

“A-And, at that battle, you’re killed by Admiral Akainu while protecting Luffy. He’s devastated by it, being forced to watch you die hurts him so bad,” you cling onto him tighter upon feeling him flinch from your words. “Whitebeard dies there too.”

“What?! How could anyone kill him? That can’t be right!” You’re wrenched off Ace violently and his stare is almost as unhinged as it was when you said his parents’ names.

“Blackbeard does it,” Ace freezes at this. “That should give you an idea of how strong he is. If he can kill Whitebeard, fighting you is nothing to him. Besides, you of all people would know how hard it is to kill him,” you chuckle but it’s humorless, empty even.

A heavy stretch of silence follows after that. Ace’s eyes don’t leave your face for even a second, desperately searching for anything that would tell him that this is all one big, sick joke. But there’s nothing of the sort. 

Slowly, he releases your shoulders and he shifts away from you to rest his head in his hands. Without his support, you allow yourself to fall back onto the bed. Between all the alcohol and your emotional outburst, you’re exhausted and want nothing more than to sleep. You try to force yourself to stay awake, but it feels like an insurmountable task. 

“Hey, Ace?” There’s no answer, but you continue anyway, “I’m sorry. I know that was a lot. If, um… If you don’t believe me about knowing what’s going to happen, stick around until after we set sail again. Bon Clay- Mr. 2- is going to bring the Going Merry over here so that we don’t have to backtrack. Marines will be all over the place, but he sacrifices himself so that Luffy and his crew can get away. Once they’ve lost the marines, Nico Robin will reveal herself to have been hiding on the ship and joins the crew.”

Ace continues to not react to what’s being said, you’re not even sure he’s listening to you at this point. As much as you want to comfort him, your limbs feel like lead and your head is swimming. The last thing you see is the jolly roger of the Whitebeard’s staring you down as you fade into darkness.

—

Consciousness comes back to you slowly. Painfully so. Before you can even make out your surroundings, you’re assaulted by the worst headache of your life. The stabbing pain behind your eyes is crippling, all you want is to retreat back to the comfort of sleep, but you know that’s not going to happen.

It doesn’t help that your mouth is so dry that you feel like you’re back in the desert. One hand comes up to gingerly massage your eyes. The action brought more discomfort than relief, but it did clear up your sight a little. 

As your senses ebb back into you, you hone in on the pressure all over your body. It takes considerable effort, but you manage to lift your head enough to take a look. Your nose is less than an inch from bumping into someone else’s. Chopper’s to be exact. He was curled up into your side and using your chest as a pillow. Looking past him, Luffy was sprawled across your lap, belly up. Both of them were still asleep.

You prop yourself up on one arm. Chopper shifts, but doesn’t wake. Off to your side is a bedside table with a glass of water on it. Oh, thank God. Using the arm you aren’t propped up with, you grab it and bring the cup to your lips. The water is divine, an absolute blessing for your dry throat.  

As you enjoy your drink, your eyes glance around to observe the rest of the room. It’s the one you all have been staying in since saving Alabasta. Most of your friends are in their respective beds, except for Chopper and Luffy, obviously. Zoro was also not in his bed, instead being slumped over in a chair next to your own.

Your eyes flicker over to the massive windows of the room, and you spot Ace sitting in the windowsill. From the way he’s positioned, he appears to be awake already. Your gaze narrows as you focus on him. Something tickled at the back of your mind, demanding to be remembered. But what?

“Y-You are so loved, you know that? They l-love you so much! A lot of people do! I do! We all want to see you live and be happy!” 

The water going down your throat is suddenly going out of it when you choke. Memories come back and hit you like a train as you realize what exactly it is you did last night.

Naturally, this wakes up Chopper and Luffy, who are both jolted from their once peaceful sleep by you choking on your drink. Chopper immediately starts to panic, “AH! Don’t die, (Y/N)!”

—

It was crucial that you speak to Ace again, but it seemed like the world itself was committed to making sure that didn’t happen. Ace slipped out of the room while everyone was fussing over you, and it honestly felt like he was avoiding you now. Everytime you thought you might be able to catch him alone, either he vanishes, or someone else comes out of nowhere to drag you away.

Today was the day you all set sail from Alabasta, and while that did put you in close proximity with Ace, it also put everyone else within earshot of you two. And considering the delicate nature of what you needed to talk about, that was extremely inconvenient. 

The only good thing was that the events following leaving Alabasta played out exactly how they were supposed to. Hopefully that meant that Ace would believe you and give up hunting down Blackbeard, but you won’t be able to confirm that unless you speak with him. 

You were so stressed that you’d barely been able to focus on Robin being here. She “introduced” herself to you as if she hadn’t had an extremely uncomfortable run in with you in an alleyway back in Rainbase, but all you could manage was a half-assed handshake before excusing yourself.

For probably the fifteenth time today, you checked to make sure that Striker was still tied to the Merry. It was, much to your relief. But where was Ace hiding? You haven’t seen him since Robin showed herself.

The stress of trying and failing to corner him was doing nothing to help with your hangover, your head felt like it was about to explode. Did you still have Advil in the bag you got isekai’d here with? Maybe. Pushing off the railing, you march to where your room is while praying that you’re right about the painkillers.

You open the door without much thought, only to stop dead in your tracks when you catch sight of Ace rummaging through your belongings and stuffing them into his backpack. The door opening did briefly make him stop and peer over his shoulder to see who it was, but the second he saw it was you, he went right back to pillaging. 

“Can I help you? Why are you robbing me?” You stomp over to where he’s crouched down and shove his shoulder. 

“I’m not robbing you, I’m packing for you,” Ace mumbled, sounding lost in thought.

“Why would you be packing for me? Actually, you know what? That’s the least of my concerns right now, we need to talk about last night.”

“We’ll talk about it later, not here.” He still hasn’t properly faced you, and you were getting sick of only making eye contact with his tattoo and not him. 

“Where else would we talk about it?!” You hissed.

Seeming content with his work, he stood up and kicked the dresser drawer shut, “On the Striker. Or maybe the Moby Dick, I guess. I’m going back and you’re coming with me.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, “Excuse me?”

“I’m going back to the Moby Dick, and you’re coming with me.” Ace had finally turned to face you. His eyes were sunken and vaguely bloodshot. 

The sight catches you off guard, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

He shook his head, “No, we’re going to have to stop somewhere else to sleep before going the rest of the way back home.”

“Ace, I’m not going with you. Look, I’m happy that you’re calling off your hunt, relieved honestly, but I’m staying here.” You will ideally be figuring out how to go home sometime soon, there’s no sense in hopping around from crew to crew now.

One of his eyes twitched, and he looked exasperated, “You can’t stay here. You aren’t safe here.”

“What are you-”

“Let me finish,” the words were spoken calmly, but very firm. “I don’t think you understand how serious this is. You apparently know everything about this world and what’s going to happen in it, do you have any idea what will happen to you if word gets out about this?”

“You’re the only person I’ve told, so as long as you keep your mouth shut, I’ll be fine.”

“Until you get drunk again and tell someone else, then what?” His words were just as scathing as his gaze.

Your face flushed in shame, “That won’t happen again.”

“You don’t know that!” Ace snapped at you, then sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “This is for your own good. Nothing good will come from anyone else learning about this. If it ever got back to someone like Big Mom, she would send every single one of her children after you so she could have you on her side. And that’s the nicer option. I’m sure the marines would be more than happy to kill you off so that no one else could have you if they can’t.”

Throughout this entire conversation, his face had remained uncomfortably neutral, but now it cracked. Fondness peaked through the exhaustion as his expression softened ever so slightly. He steps forwards and brings you against him in a crushing embrace. His skin is hot to the touch, effectively chasing away any chill that you may have had.

“You said you wanted to see me live, and I want to see you live, too.” The words are hushed, you wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he hadn’t been speaking right next to your ear.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself away. His face is serious again, “We’re leaving tonight, be ready to go.”

“But-”

“If you don’t come willingly, I will make you. The only thing that you resisting will accomplish is making this messier than it needs to be. Even if you don’t like this now, you will thank me for it later.”

Ace spins on his heel and heads for the door. All you can do is stand there gawking at him as he leaves. Just before the door closes behind him, he spares a glance over his shoulder to say, “I’ll see you tonight.”

[k0ff1n]

Even if

Fellow honest x reader (not yuu)

Summary: random summer night with the two of you sharing feelings? Established relationship btw so he ain't rejecting no one eheheh. Fluff and slight angst I think? The most they do is kiss so it's sfw.

Notes: sorry if it sucks but it's been some months since I've written anything and english is isn't my first language, in any case enjoy! :D

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

It was rare to see him so calm. The night was just like the past one, quiet and warm, that type of warmth that doesn't make it uncomfortable to wear a shirt but that at the same time still makes you want to drink something cold, because you know that if you drank tea it would get too hot and then that balance would be shattered. He didn't seem to be paying much attention to his surroundings, then again this was the only time of the day where he could relax, even if a little, so why take it away from him.

The usual smell of smoke lingered in the air, a thin cloud making it a little harder to see him as clearly as you wanted. He never stopped smoking, since the first day you met he always had a cigar or cigarette between his fingers, it almost amazed you how his voice didn't change that much even after all these years of consuming them. Not that you could blame him, his life had never been easy on him and if he found peace in a piece of paper that tasted like nicotine then he could keep on smoking as much as he wanted, it would probably hurt him more if he stopped this habit than keep on smoking.

Gidel wasn't around, not that it surprised you, just like his brother he usually used the late evening for himself, even if he didn't smoke he still needed some time alone, just like everybody else.

You kept on staring at him, looking at him with too much love in your eyes, even if he wasn't a nice person, even if he didn't take care of himself as much as he took care of his brother, even if the shirt he was wearing was probably the same he wore the week before because, when you don't have time and money, every little thing counts and a new piece of clothing isn't in those calculations. He wasn't the best, and he knew it, he knew it since he was little because in a world like this he would have never been enough even if he kept on trying, even if he had enough magic to go to school, to make a name for himself, one associated with bravery, power... and not a sketchy place where he had to 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴 to survive.

The cloud of smoke was now on you, staining your clothes with that smell that never wants to be washed of, that smell that's better than a perfume when associated with something nice, with 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 nice, and he was, to you. Not to the students, not to his boss, not to the people that he had to convince to come to a magic place just to be sold as puppets, but to 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

To 𝘺𝘰𝘶 because 𝘺𝘰𝘶 never criticized his antics, because 𝘺𝘰𝘶 never complained if he didn't have the energy to keep everything tidy, because 𝘺𝘰𝘶 never mentioned his lack of knowledge because of the system that failed him.

To 𝘺𝘰𝘶 because he knew he loved you since the first time you met.

The yellow light of the nearby street lamp was the only thing making his figure visible to your eyes, a sight that never failed to make you smile, even if only internally sometimes.

"Doll, you are staring..."

He wasn't annoyed, even if his tone would make anyone think that, he wasn't and you knew it.

"Does it bother you?"

"...."

"You know it never does"

And there it was, that light smile he wore only when around you, one which took too much time to finally see, and now that you could you would never be bored by.

"Well that's good to know because I wasn't gonna stop anyway"

The sound of his laugh ringing in your ears was the only thing distracting you from the way his canines were shining thanks to what little moonlight reached the two of you. As much as you wanted to compliment him for every little thing about his appearance and personality it always felt as if he would take it as a joke and never believe you, despite how many times you said you loved him.

Well maybe there's a first time for everything... who knows.

"Love?"

"Mmmhh"

"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?"

The silence after that was almost deafening.

"If you say so"

Damn him and his non existent self esteem.

"I don't just 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰 I know so"

Even if your eyes were searching for his they could never meet, thanks to his brilliant idea of 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 every time you tried to have a heartfelt conversation.

At least deciding to sit on his lap made it easier to look at him, the only downside being the two shades of red adorning his face making it harder to see his freckles in the night.

"Hey"

"𝘏𝘦𝘺"

His voice sounded muffled, probably thanks to how much he was pressing his face in the palm of your hand, surely to try and keep on hiding himself.

"Love, look at me"

Slowly, too slowly, he decided that maybe looking at you wasn't so bad, despite how much his head told him not to. His ears were twitching, probably the only thing expressing how he was feeling seeing the situation.

"You okay?"

"𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭"

What he wanted to say was something along the lines of "of course now that you are in my arms" but it sounded too cheesy even for him.

"If you say so"

Yeah he sure was, considering how hard his hands were gripping your waist and how he began to hide his face in the crook of your neck.

"It's okay love, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺"

His grip on you tightening only meant one thing, he was feeling worse than usual. Slowly moving your hands up his back you finally reached the back of his head, fluffy hair the color of caramel now between your fingers, a hum of approval murmured near your ear while your fingertips begun to gently stroke his ears. You knew he liked it, it was one of the first things he told you when you begun seeing each other and, after so much time you couldn't count how many occasions ended this way.

Finally his hands started to loose that bruising grip that had you almost blocked in the same position for too much time to be considered comfortable, deciding to move them on your hips to help keeping you on his lap.

"Do you think that Gidel will come here soon?"

"Probably not, he's usually walking near the ferris wheel at this time, going back here would take more than twenty minutes"

"Good, more time for us"

"What do you mean by tha-"

Unfortunately for him his time to speak was cut short by your mouth on his, shutting him up completely. With a hand still on the back of his head he didn't have many options but to keep the same pace as yours. As much as he didn't have money to buy things like chapstick he still had pretty soft lips, a nice contrast to the sharp teeth behind them.

Pulling away was always the hardest part, the both of you unsure on who had to separate from the other first, resulting in a rather awkward series of random messy kisses near the lips but never perfectly on them because of the dizziness.

Damn the lack of oxygen.

Small fleeting pecks were now placed on his neck, slowly going back up to once again reach his face. Finally able to look in his eyes 𝘺𝘰𝘶 were now the one left speechless. He 𝘥𝘪𝘥 look as flushed as you thought, except for the smile that adorned his face. A genuine one, probably the most beautiful one you have ever seen him wear. He was stunning, he really was. Be it the messy hair, the freckled cheeks, the honey colored irises or, in this case, the small smile gracing his lips.

You probably ended up with the same expression because the next thing you knew was him looking a little worried and asking why did you look so happy.

"Why do you think uh?"

"If I knew I wouldn't have asked no?"

He was smirking, he knew what you were thinking but he wanted to hear it, he would never get tired of hearing you say it.

"I love you, 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴?"

And of course it was, it was as clear as day but he had to listen to you say it, he had to watch the way your lips moved while you said it because damn it, it was probably the most addicting thing he had ever come across.

"𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴"

His heartbeat was calmer now, it surely was easier to hear when you face was pressed against his chest, feeling him move even so slightly with every breath he took. The positions were reversed now, his hand on the back of your head, making sure that if you fell asleep you wouldn't hit it anywhere. His other arm was still around you, keeping you close, almost shielding you from any possible danger.

The night was still warm, summer still present even if now coming to a close. At this point you were the one covered in moonlight, a blanket on your skin making you glow in an almost ethereal light. If he didn't know any better he would think you weren't from this world, then again, maybe it wasn't that far fetched.

"Are you still awake?"

"Mmmh.."

"Nothing to worry about doll, just asking"

"𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰..."

Your voice was already laced with sleep, unable to form a complete sentence but luckily still able to process what he was saying.

"Do you remember the first time we met?"

"𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦.."

"That time I told you that one day I'd tell you a secret, the most important one... to me at least"

"𝘎𝘰 𝘰𝘯... 𝘐𝘮𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸"

"Sure sure but for how much of a secret it is you probably have already figured it out..."

Silence.

You were probably sleeping now.

"𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵... 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘦"

You might be sleeping but even if you didn't hear his words just now he was sure you would be hearing them again when he'd finally find the courage to ask you to marry him... even if in his own way.

[prettyinpwn]

Does anyone else feel like... something new is brewing for GF?

Sorry I've been posting a lot out of the blue after months of inactivity, but, you all get it... the GF fixation train comes and goes.

Anyways, I'm getting some spidey senses going on about GF lately. There's The Book of Bill coming out, Alex Hirsch doing an interview with ThatGFFan and Fordtato/Hana Hyperfixates (you folks are awesome btw), Alex himself has been super, super quiet for a while as far as I know...

I especially am a bit curious about why The Book of Bill is being released so many damn years after the show was released. There's no big anniversary coming up (the 10 year passed in 2022), the show is - let's just admit it so I can feel like the old ass lady I am - old itself, and usually stuff like this gets greenlit around other materials for promo reasons.

My point is, is usually something like The Book of Bill, you'd expect to have been released long ago to capitalize on the show's success post-finale, like how Journal 3 and Lost Legends were published. But... all of the sudden 10+ years down the line, we're seeing stuff like the soundtrack vinyl, the Bill purse, and I believe there were Ford and Stan plushies iirc, and now The Book of Bill being released.

And there are details about these two things that are... weird. The soundtrack had a full version of "We'll Meet Again" with all the characters voiced by Alex Hirsch (e.g Bill, Stan, Soos, McGucket, etc). Very strange thing to be added to the record, hm... and The Book of Bill is set to be more adult in flavor.

I'll just bluntly state it: I think they're testing the waters for more Gravity Falls with a more adult audience, capitalizing on old as dust fans like me who were active when the series aired, plus newer fans given Gravity Falls' seemingly evergreen appeal. Like I'm about... 80% certain on this. I'm not saying this to clickbait anyone but it really feels like something new is on the horizon. I'm not saying it's a new show, maybe comics or some sort of prequel or continuation in another medium, but my spidey senses are tingling, like I said.

Does anyone else feel the same, or am I just... too hopeful?

[xxkiller-muffinxx]

THAT FLOYD ONESHOT WAS SO GOOD‼️‼️ I'd love to see a part 2 for it!^^

(If you want to btw-)

As long as we're together

Floyd x reader (Part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

Summary: after a long while of being reconnected with your favorite brozone member. You make plenty of sweet familiar memories, however a line is crossed when a familiar popstar duo enters the picture.

Words: 1475

Warnings: Implied death, angst, another semi-cliffhanger

A/N: I don't know why I wrote these so fast, but maybe it's because I stopped worrying about tiny details and just went with the flow. I don't think I got Velvet and Veneers personalities perfect but I just felt like their scene fit their dynamic as best as possible. Genuinely appreciate the support on the last part, your guy’s positive feedback gives me life. Stay golden and enjoy! Ps. Velvet and Veneer are the same color but I tried to make it clear who was talking in the writing, thank you!

✦✧✦

You remember the first week you two were together. So fondly. Back to back in your prisons and humming each other's favorite song. No matter how embarrassing.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

It's been quiet for a few hours, you're both recovering from the last concert and are giving each other time to process. When suddenly Floyd begins humming quietly. You look at him and raise an eyebrow.

He returns your eye contact and smiles warmly. He then whispers. “Don't you…forget about me.” He would quietly sing. He continued mumbling the words until you would join in, but instead with one of his songs.

“Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep. Dreaming about the things that we could be.” You placed a hand on the glass as your voices began to wrap around one another. Creating a symphony unlike anything else. It reminded you that sometimes just singing matters more than any perfect note.

The two of you continued until you couldn't anymore. You tried to keep humming but you threw yourself into a coughing fit. Floyd immediately stopped singing and looked at you. “Hey hey, it's okay. You don't have to.” he comforted, instinctively reaching out a hand for your shoulder but being stopped by the barrier between you two.

“I'm okay. I'm okay,” you responded, despite the deep pain in your chest. You sat up and leaned on the glass. “Can we still talk?” You asked. Then Floyd nodded.

“So mount rageous? Pretty cool huh?” he started the conversation, but you only snorted at his sad excuse for a conversation topic.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

In a similar regard. You remember him telling you about his brothers. You were getting a bit too overhyped over all of them though. Even if you loved every other brother, you had to remind him who the best of them was.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

“Then there's Spruce-”

“The heartthrob!”

“Yeah him. He was nice, I didn't like how much he butted heads with John though. I just wish I could see them again,” He looked at his hands, gripping the air as if it were life support. You frowned. Leaning into the glass.

You didn't know how to comfort him, at this point, you were both pretty pessimistic. So saying anything optimistic would have the opposite effect. So you decided to keep talking instead.

“Yeah, spruce was pretty cool, but did you go to the last Brozone concert?” You said, utterly messing with him at that point.

“Wait what?” He asked as he glanced back at you.

“It was so good! I mean the pyrotechnics, the colors, ugh! The music! Don't get me started on the music!” you did your best to stand up and did an excited spin. Floyd followed.

“Woah hey, slow down.” he placed both hands on the glass and his eyebrows creased with worry.

“Though there was something I could never get over. Something that always irked me.” You stumbled back into the purple surrounding you, looking into Floyd’s eyes. He frowned and looked down. Seeming to already know what you’re going to say. However, you hit him with a curveball. “There wasn’t enough of that sensitive troll…what was his name again?”

He shook his head and said your name once. “What are you talking about?”

“He had pink hair, he was almost the youngest but Bitty B was too quick.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Bitty B was the star of the show honestly.”

You laughed and leaned your forehead toward him, he did the same. Your eyes met and you grinned. “He was the cutest troll and my favorite. No other brother could beat him.”

His cheeks turned red instantaneously, causing him to turn away. you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. Which threw you into yet another coughing fit, Floyd was at your side quickly. Checking up on you to make sure you weren’t gone yet.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

Those moments, even if short. Meant the world to you. Now the boundary was crossed. Neither of you had much strength to talk or sing together anymore. To you went with compatible silence. That is until Velvet and Veneer took matters into their own hands.

You were in your usual spot when suddenly, Velvet stormed in. She was in hysterics, absolutely appalled by her performance. “I can't believe that happened!” she shrieked, kicking a shoe into a wall. Veneer came in right behind her.

“It's fine! One voice crack never ruined anyone's career! Woah!” Veneer dodged another shoe and hid behind a mirror just in case. Velvet wasn't having any of it though, she was completely thrown off course.

She stomped to the desk and swiped up the perfume bottle you were inside. “I don't care if it was one voice crack or five! I can't mess up like that in front of the world!” she growled and was prepared to throw you across the room. Before she stopped. She looked at you and smiled. “I just need more troll. That's all.”

She grinned, pulling the bottle to her neck and beginning to spray all around her. Veneer came from behind the mirror and put out a hand. “Hey, maybe we should ration those little guys, don't know how many trolls we're going to need, you know?” He tried reasoning.

Floyd looked up at Velvet and watched in horror as she sprayed as much of the music onto her as she could. There was nothing he could do. Velvet laughed in her insanity. Glancing at Veneer she made sure she was covered head to toe. “We won't need much more Veneer! If I nail this performance we’ll be made! I promise!”

Veneer shook his head and walked closer. When Velvet suddenly sprayed him in the face. “And face it. You love the attention as much as I do.” She hissed. Then once she was calm she slammed you back down onto the desk and left you alone. “Okay, now…I'm ready!” She was going to leave but Veneer stopped her. He pointed at your bottle and gulped. Velvet turned to look at you.

You were spent, your hair all white and your skin turning an entirely different shade. You were dying, and you were dying fast. Floyd dropped to his knees and whispered your name multiple times as if it would be the last thing he uttered. “Please be okay, please hold on for a bit longer.” He begged,

Then as soon as you were down, you were up again. Velvet groaned and handed Veneer the bottle. “You handle it. I have to get ready.” She said before leaving him alone in the room. Veneer grimaced as he watched her go. Then grimaced even more when he realized his duty.

Floyd banged on the glass. Trying to break it open to no avail. Veneer looked at Floyd. “Geez, you're making this harder. If I don't do this you know what Velvet will do.” He knelt down to Floyd’s level. Veneer’s eyes pleading for understanding.

Floyd shakes his head. “you don't have to do this, Veneer just let us go! Please, I'm begging you.” Floyd pushes hard on the glass, looking up into his eyes. Veneer, on the brink of being moved, stands up and looks at your nearly lifeless form.

Before he could respond, Velvet rips the diamond out of his hand. “What are you doing? I told you to deal with it. Not stand around playing with it.” She looked around and crossed her arms. “Ugh I always have to do everything. Hope you like flying.” she says, walking to the nearest window and opening it.

Veneer cringed at the notion, sitting down and looking away from her. Floyd began panicking more trying to get out more than ever, but of course. It wasn't working. He needed the perfect family harmony.

Without much of a second thought. Velvet threw you out of the window. Watching you fall and then dusting her hands off. She looked at Veneer. “Well? We have a show to put on. We have to get ready! Come on!” She walked out, leaving Veneer with Floyd. Veneer looked down at the troll and was going to comfort him when he decided, it probably wasn't for the best.

Veneer left, leaving Floyd all alone. Floyd was looking out the window. Thinking about you, thinking about all the fun you had in your worst situation, and he realized it was false hope. Being with you for the rest of your lives. He then realized there was no platonic explanation for his feelings.

He had loved you, but he didn't know it until you were gone.

Pt 3?

[wingedhallows]

traitor - ch. one; sirius black

pairing: sirius black (golden trio era) x fem! oc | 0.9k words warning: dark themes, death, torture plot: Fourteen years ago, Hecate Hunt, a valuable member of the Order and once a Death Eater gave her life for her friends and the man she loved, at least that's what was believed. Now she's done hiding, ready to fight alongside her old friends and her godson. Ready to return to the life she once had, ready to once again be a traitor. authors note: hi there! I've been meaning to write this since it's been wandering around in my head for weeks. Thank you for reading and let me know if you liked it! :) ps.: this is the first work of mine in years, i wrote a lot of fanfics in highschool but somehow this helps with taking my mind off things. thank u <3 btw, things aren't absolutely accurate so don't come for me, let's just vibe, ok? ok.

navigation | chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four

then

"I want you all to meet a new member to the order. I believe her to be trusted, however you might think." from behind the old wizard a young woman emerged. Hair dark and long, a solem look on her face as she stepped infront of him. "Nice to meet you." she spoke, voice deep and firm. Her eyes were dark, almost black in the dim lit kitchen of the Black residence. Sirius felt himself lean forward, determined to catch a glimpse of her face.

"This is Hecate Hunt, a powerful witch and-"a Death Eater." Alastor Moody spoke, his eye skimming from side to side, mouth in a smarl. "Felt it minutes ago." The other members let their shock be known. Gasps and whispers present. She knew the members, of course. How could she not know the legendary Marauders, for one. 

"Why would you bring a Death Eater to this place, Albus?" Minerva spoke, voice almost too quiet to hear. Hecate let her gaze wander to Lily and James Potter who held hands, thumbs stroking each others hands. She had known the younger members, as she visited Hogwarts the same years they did. They were hard to miss. Remus Lupin just stared at her, hands in fists. Sirius Black on the other hand had his jaw clenched, mouth in a scowl and his wand in his hand. She knew of the older Black all too well. She had listened to the Dark Lord complain about Walburga and Orions incapability of turning their own son to the dark side multible times.

"Hecate has changed her mind in light of recent events.-"I don't buy it. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater." Sirius interupted Albus, his fist connected with the dark wooden table as he spat the words. Anger rose inside of her, she knew of his temper, had seen it first hand in their school days. "Oh you would know all about it, right? Since your familiy's swamped with'em and all, Black." Hecate spat, hands now crossed over her chest. She stooped low, she knew, but she had to get in, she had to make a change. She wouldn't let Black ruin it.

Sirius was fast to jump to his feet, wand raised and his body shaking with anger. "How dare yo-"Sirius, please." Remus tugged him down to his chair. Hecate didn't back down, ready to take whatever would jump from the purebloods wand. It wouldn't be worse than to stand against the Cruciato curse, which made its way passed Lord Voldemorts lips all too often. 

Albus huffed a sigh as he eyed Sirius. "If i could continue what i was about to say." Hecate shifted her weight from one leg to another, uneasy with the mood in the room. "Hecate was the witch who freed Alice and Frank Longbottom from the clutches of Death Eaters." he paused, looking at the woman next to him. "Delivered them right to me. I believe that no real Death Eater would've shown them mercy. Therefore, after careful thinking, i recruit Hecate Hunt to be a member of the Order." she gave him a curt nod before taking a seat. She had freed them, too late though. Barty Crouch Jr had broken their minds when she arrived. She'd just spared them from their death. Her eyes once again connected with those of Sirius.

"The reason why i want to help you, is my sister."

now

Harry made his way passed the table, to the cabinets filled with plates and mugs. Sirius sat at the head of the table, a mug in one hand and the daily prophet in the other. "Morning, Harry." he spoke, a hopeful smile on his bearded face. Remus Lupin sat to his right, a little notebook placed on the table in front of him as he looked up at Padfoots godson. "Morning." he spoke as he saw Harry. He also greeted Lupin with a small smile. "Good Morning."  They didn't mind Harry looking around, it was an old and interesting house after all. Harry thanked Kreacher as the house elf scrambled to make the kid a cup of tea. His eyes locked on a picture frame. The only picture frame there was. 

There he saw Sirius and a woman he didn't know. Sirius looked younger, twenty maybe, the woman next to him was beautiful. Her dark long hair hung down her shoulders, shimmering in the warm sunlight as a bright smile spread across her pale face. Sirius gave her an adoring look before he smacked his lips on her cheek. The moment repeated, as every foto in the wizard world does.

"Sirus." he spoke, voice quiet. "Who is this?"

He turned around to look at his godfather. His face had frozen up, the shadow of a tear in his eyes. "Harry.." He could hear Remus say, an attempt of pushing the matter away.

"That's.." Sirius had to take a breath, his voice failing him. "Hecate Hunt." he spoke. He took a sip of his mug, the daily prophet long forgotten on the table in front of him. "Your godmother." it was merely a whisper as he spoke. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He had a godmother, somewhere out there-"She's dead." his voice rang in Harry's head. Harry placed the picture on the table, hand on his hip as he tried again. "How-"That's enough, Harry." Remus said, before Sirius rose to his feet and left, a quiet sob sounded in the distance.

"You-Know-Who killed her, there's nothing more to it." Remus spoke before he walked after his best friend. The boy once more stared at the picture in front of him. The woman, Hecate, once again gave the camera a warm smile. Just as young Sirius planted another forcefull kiss on her cheek he could hear a loud rumble upstairs. 

Sirius had just blown something to bits.

[talaok]

idk if you’re still taking spencer reid requests but i was thinking about him and reader ending a long term relationship but they just keep going back to each other and a whole bunch of smutty angst ensues hehe

alright alright alright I don't know if I did exactly what you had in mind but I hope I got close enough (btw this is obv later seasons Spence)

Made for me

"I'm sorry I can't do this anymore," you said "No, actually, you know what, I'm not sorry, it's you who should be apologizing"

"for what? having to work?"

"you know what I mean"

"Seriously?" he sighed "You wanna do this again?"

"Maybe I do, alright"

"y/n, I've already told you thousands of times this is just how my job works, it's not that I want to be gone for weeks on end, it's that I have to"

"yeah sure," you mumbled, shaking your head

"What? you don't believe me?" he took a step towards you, and you took a step back, hitting the kitchen counter, "you think I like being gone?"

"All I'm saying is maybe you don't hate it as much as you say you do"

He shot you a look, and you didn't give a fuck. You were tired of him and of his coming home late every night.

"You get to get away from me with all your little friends who I'm sure wouldn't snitch on you even if held at gunpoint" You cocked an eyebrow.

"snitch on me...?" he said, sounding confused before he realized, "You think I cheat on you? Is that it?"

"Are you saying you never thought about it?"

He scoffed "Y/n I go away to solve fucking murders," he said like he was one breath away from exploding 

"That's not what I asked"

His knuckles turned white as he tightened his fists by his side

"but I guess it's as good as an answer" You shrugged, looking at him steadily "This isn't working anymore Spencer," you said, "I think we should take a break"

"a break?" He scoffed "Y/n we've been together for five years"

"yeah, five years too long"

You saw his eyes turn black as a faint hint of hurt traveled behind them.

"you don't mean that"

"Trust me, I do," you said "I'm tired of this Spencer, I'm tired of you"

His jaw twitched "You're tired of me?" he mocked "What about me? Do you think I'm not tired of you? Of your constant complaining and moaning and blabbing on and on about how much I suck?" he grabbed your wrist

"Well then a break is exactly what we need"

"I don't think so"

"Why? That way you can go back to all the special friends I'm sure you've made over the years"

"again with this fucking thing" he muttered, annoyed

"oh don't beat yourself up, It's not like I haven't thought about it myself" you smirked, "I just never acted on it, unlike you"

His eyes zeroed in on you, a flame sparking beneath them.

"What did you just say?" he pulled you closer 

"you heard what I said"

"you thought about other men touching you?" his other hand moved to your waist

"Maybe I did"

"Who?"

A quiet smirk tugged at your lips "Why do you care?"

"Because you're mine y/n"

"Not anymore, remember?" you said "We're taking a break"

"I never agreed to that" Sometimes after you spoke he had gotten closer, and his breath was now fanning over your mouth.

"And I doubt you really want that either" 

"well you're wrong"

"I'm not" he whispered just moments before his lips met yours.

The hand on your wrist went to grab your face, bringing you impossibly closer to him as his other hand traveled down to your ass.

You involuntarily whimpered into his mouth and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue moving into your mouth painfully nicely.

You felt your feet lift from the ground and moments later you found yourself seated on the counter, Spencer's body pressed against you from between your legs

"you're saying you wouldn't miss this?" he asked, starting a slow trail of kisses down your neck " miss me?" he taunted, his hands caressing your thighs

you could only breathe loudly, as all your brain's capability was taken over by his presence.

"because the wet patch on your panties is saying something much different baby" he smirked, his fingers grazing the damp cotton between your legs.

"shut up" you moaned

"I'm just saying sweetheart" He kissed you again, " I think you're all talk" His teeth grazed your bottom lip "You like to tell me just how bad I am as a boyfriend when you know you're made for me" he breathed

"fuck off Spencer" you spat "I'm not"

"oh aren't you?" he mocked, his fingers infiltrating under the waistband of your panties and passing through your slick folds "Then tell me, sweetheart..." He held your gaze as his fingers entered your hole and you had to force down a moan "Who else can make you come like I do?" 

[period-of-nocturne]

I listened to Mizuki commissioned song again lately. All of them.

I actually had very little thought about most of it. Most of the song's meaning stays unchanged, but a few sentences now feel extremely foreshadowy to me (we're making up words today)

I'll use Amiaryllis' lyrics to talk about the song btw (go check her cover she cooked). It might lead me to see things that weren't intented in the original song's writing because well, lyrics translation. But some of the more literal translation of the songs can feel very cryptic + I'm obsessed with Amia's cover so idc bear with me.

And to clarify the color-coding. Mizuki, Ena, Mafuyu, Kanade. I'll color the lines to clarify who sings what, but I need to specify that as much as the line distribution is made to fit each character's situation, every line that isn't sung by the focus character (Mizuki here) bears a double meaning, as it can be read and interpreted entirely from their perspective. It's their commissioned song for a reason, after all.

That's a way too long introduction. Let's get into the topic!

Staring with IDSmile :

"I've given up- tried to keep my distance"

"I've found defeat here in hide and seek.

I've lost my way to melancholy"

"To feel this pain or fade away ?"

A few lines that took another dimension after Mizu5, I think.

If you lost in hide and seek, it means you've been found. You've been seen.

Giving up, setting a distance (1003), getting lost... Fading away. What can I say. I believe lyrics speaks for themselves.

Lower is something else entierely.

"Admiration fades to distaste"

"Quiet meeting dissolves into farewell"

Sounds like Mizuki's fear in general. Except it became near tangible now.

"I raise my hazy voice as it scorches my throat, forgetting everything I'd cherished the most,

My mind, it draws a blank, what was I supposed to utter ? "

And that is Ena's line. Ena, in shock, unable to process what she heard and answer accordingly. Ena, screaming Mizuki's name in the corridor.

"A quiet whispers echoes through the halls. Hear out the wishes, hear out the wishes shared by all."

It might be just me, but I can't help but think about the school's corridor. People whispering as you walk by. Typical school bullying.

To Mafuyu, the 'wishes shared by all' are the high expectations pushed on her. To Mizuki, though...

"I don't know where to start, don't even know what I've lost sight of now. I don't know the answer but I pray they come to me somehow."

Kanade's but makes me think of how Mizuki was afraid to speak to Ena and wished someone did it for her. Ha. Ha. Ahem. It's not the first Kanade line that gives me that impression.

The full thing makes me think of how Ena is probably confused and not sure how to proceed. And by the way we know Mizuki is gone from real world but has Niigo noticed yet ? Do Ena knows what she has lost sight of now ♪ ?

I'm focusing on Mizu5 foreshadowing but I'm still freshly out of reading Mafuyu Engeki event and

"I promise that we'll make our great escape, someday and somehow" line sang by Kanade and Mafuyu together. Although it's a line from a Mizuki commi, Mizuki who's the one who told Mafuyu to run away Aaaaaaaa- anyway back on tracks!

"Whispered secret once obscured by tinted glass" Past tense. No more tinted glass. Secret exposed for everyone to see. Ena why is this your line oh my god I need to scream--

"Wondering how much longer could this truly last ?"

Well. It's Mizuover now.

I'm glad the chorus exists, still.

"I know we'll be connected in the end, no matter the cost."

It might be hellish as of now, but there's no need to worry. It will end up being fine. Trust.

Give me Your Night.

I want to talk about that song but there's little to say in Mizu5 context because that song. Isn't about Niigo.

I wish I had the source, but I heard Hinata Satou (Mizuki's VA), thought of the song as Mizuki speaking to Rui as they were recording. And. I can't not scream about the song seen through that lense.

But the Mizurui brainrot is too strong so I'll make it into its own post. Just to avoid this one being way too long.

I'm less confident about Kitty.

If there's foreshadowing here, it's not in lines you pick up.

The song is telling Mafuyu to run away. But I also somehow see Mizuki who start to question things.

Mafuyu is being told to run by a girl who start considering facing things. In that exact moment, they both share the feelings of doubt about how to proceed. Not sure they should speak up. Apprehending changes. But the will to make the first step for that change is right here, starting to grow. Something like that.

Escape for our Survival was the last Mizuki focus event before the Thorns, so it makes sense the hints are less subtle. Listening to it now, I feel like the song is telling me "Hey. It's coming."

On a side note I can't help but notice the use of the world Telecaster. In a Mizuki song. Mmh.

Bonus Keitai Renwa ?

Bonus Keitai Renwa. It was a commissioned song after all. Using Ami's lyrics🌸 again where I can. Filling the rest with wiki EN translation.

"All the things I say, they only seem to lead us astray, so what now ?"🌸 Ena trying to get closer to Mizuki desperately only to--

"Even though I try, I've only found a time for goodbye"🌸 MIZUKIIIIIIIIIIIII. YOU COME BACK HERE.

"The sweet sensations of the past, why is it they weren't meant to last ?"🌸 *Dies in 'Mizuki is afraid of change.'*

"Your fabricated kindness makes my heart goes insane." Why. Oh why. Why the concept of made-up, fake, kindness. Why here. Why now.

"It makes it hurt so much." Okay. Fine. Sure. I'm fine. No problem.

"I got lost searching for you" Go Enanan, go. Technically that line fits mfyd too.

"The whispers that don't exist in the chat history, I don't need them at all" mention of whispers again.

I can't make sense of the sentence tho. For the funfact, that song was commissioned for an alternate universe, as the plot of Niigo changed after the song was made. So they asked for another song for the Untilted track. Namely, Kuyamu to Katie Mirai.

So yeah a lot of Keitai Renwa lines are a bit cryptic, because they're talking about another story entirely. Any sense of foreshadowing here is purely coincidental.

Back on tracks

"Love me if that's what you please, hate me if it gives you ease"🌸 Mizuki asking for hate rather than a made-up kindness.

"Screaming out my deepest fear : Please don't leave me yet !"🌸

To an extent, it could fit them both. But it went to Ena. Ena would had to look at Mizuki running away without having the chance to speak.

Wait- please, don't go.

"Even if this love's gone cold, like the tea I've left alone, I would not lose hope and throw it all away"🌸 Unfortunately you didn't exactly did that, huh...

"Searching through my heart to find what to say"🌸 why does so many lines brings me back to lower ?

/"I still want to hear you speak with words [...]"

I still want to hear it from you. I haven't waited all this time for naught.

"To just connect with you, so, please... Are you there ?"

They sing that like together, except the 'with you' part that is only Ena. But in our specific context, the line feels like Ena's.

And that's about it. I can't say much more.

Sure, I could go through every Niigo cover that includes Mizuki and pick up every line that feels suspicious to me. I'm down the rabbit hole enough to do that.

But that post is long enough. If I find something earth-shattering in the covers, maybe I'll share it. Maybe.

[kismetologyy]

Uhhh

So🧍‍♂️

I'm back after centuries of decomposing and I've gotten a new idea

And you guessed it

It's about Legend

I don't have much to say

I've been busy with school and all, and it's been months since I wrote, so this could be really bad

So let's just start

Prompt:

The Chain & You are staying at Lon Lon Ranch for a few days to rest. But you got sick on the way here. Mistakes were made, comfort ensued.

Notes:

Nb!reader | Grumpy Leg | just some cute comfy fluff

Also mentions of puke and other icky stuff

Not proofread btw (and never will be cuz I ain't readin all that again)

The sun was high up in the sky, the warm rays of light setting everything into a calm environment. Malon was cooking up some delicious lunch while the Links were outside doing some farm work, enjoying the sun and the refreshing wind of the late morning.

It was a peaceful day for all of the Chain, for once.

Well, for almost everyone.

You were stuck in the living room, wrapped tightly in a blanket, accompanied by an old musty bucket at your feet.

You had gotten sick just before your arrival, puking right at Legend's feet, which for the record, made him avoid you even more now.

You had only felt that sick once just now, and Legend was unfortunate enough to be right in front of you.

"I'm not risking to have more of their dinner remains on my shoes!"

As Legend phrased it to the others, refusing to get close to you in a 5 meter radius until you were perfectly up and running again.

You felt better now, but he was still as stubborn as a mule. It was incredible to watch.

Warriors was one of the first to be done with his work, as usual. So he decided to give you some company until lunch was ready.

You had only noticed him after the couch gave in slightly under his weight.

"How's it going? Feeling better?"

Wars tries to shoot up a conversation as he's stripping his armor off for the day. You still don't get why he's wearing it while working on a ranch, with no monsters ever in sight.

You gave a meekly "yeah" as your response, which didn't make his mood any better.

Just as the conversation was about to turn awkward, Twilight and Time had walked in to join the waiting progress, conversing casually before heading over to check on me.

"Ya' good, kid?"

Twilight asked as he leaned over the back of the couch to talk face-to-face, still with his usual country boy accent.

After saying the same reply over and over again to everyone entering in the living room, it was lunch time.

Legend had arrived late, only walking in as the infamous pumpkin soup was being served. But no one bat an eye, since everyone could trust him to be the responsible one out of the younger bunch.

All went quiet after everyone greeted Legend at the table, with only very few of Legend's responses served to his travel companions.

All 10 9 of them were all over you. Even if you told them you were doing fine, they would see it as the apocalypse.

The ranch finally started to settle down, each having their free time to spend with either other members, or being on their own on the ranch on in town.

The sky was quick to turn dark, with a clear night sky as the first stars were appearing just now. You could only sit and watch out of the window as the moon shone over this era of Hyrule. It was fascinating how every era looked uniquely different from each other, but the sky always stayed the same, unaffected by the wars and disasters that stuck Hyrule over the centuries.

Aftera short walk on the ranch and being called inside again by Malon to 'rest', you sat back down on the couch, the couch already remembering the spot on the cushions where you had sat all day.

You had planned to sleep on the couch and maybe get some more alone time rather than share a room.

It was great staying with the Chain, really. But sometimes, enough is enough.

The couch moved as someone put their weight on it. You look over, and right next to you was Legend, staring forward like a statue.

It left you puzzled as to why he sat there so suddenly. Maybe he was the one person who knew you weren't sick anymore? It would only make sense, it's Legend after all.

"... alright?"

You could barely make out what we're the first words he said, but you understood his message.

"Yeah. I'm better."

You thought that was it with the daily interactions between you two, but he didn't move, nor did he say anything else.

It wasn't hard for you to read people, and you could certainly sense that something was up...

You both sit there in an awkward silence, listening to the chirps from various bugs outside. But the silence was quite comfortable.

"Sorry.."

Came a mutter from the hero, which was the last thing you'd expect to hear, and from him of all people. Was he apologizing for something for once? But it did feel like he really meant it, which made you feel somewhat better about ruining his boots a few hours ago.

Nonetheless, you were stunned as you tried to come up with a good answer.

"It's nothing. You dont have to apologize." Was the only thing you would come up with, which only set him back to his unapologetic state.

After yet another session of unbreakable silence, Legend grabbed the unoccupied blanket that was draped over his side of the couch. He got comfortable and laid down, probably not in the mood to sleep with the others either, which wasn't uncommon.

...

"Do you mind?"

He eventually breaks the silence, cause you were sitting too close to him, so he was unable to get his legs up properly.

"Right, sorry."

Was your only response as you moved to the end of the couch. With a soft sigh, Legend got comfortable and closed his eyes to finally rest.

Now your space was taken up, and neither of you wanted to get up and sleep in the same room as the other Links.

So now you tried to think of a solution, eventually laying on your side and trying to squeeze onto the couch with him, facing away from each other to avoid any uncomfortable situation.

You could feel him stir a little to make space, but he clearly wasn't happy about sharing.

The space was too cramped for you to sleep comfortably, but you didn't want to move, even if you had no choice.

So against your will, you got up from the couch and immediately laid down again, now spread out on the carpet right by Legend's feet with a blanket and pillow taken with you to the floor to sleep with.

It wasn't even a minute before someone broke the silence.

"Get up."

The hero that had taken up the couch was now up again, not at all pleased to see you sleeping on the floor like a peasant.

"I'm fine."

You wanted to stay stubborn and let him sleep. But you could only watch as Legend got up from his spot and grabbed your wrists, pulling you frim the carpet right to your feet and almost giving you another nausea attack.

You wanted to protest, but he didn't bother to give you a chance to speak.

"Don't you dare do that when there's clearly space. Ya hear me?"

You could only nod as he plopped you down, obeying him without second thought as you lay down for the third time in one night.

"But I don't want you to sleep on the floor."

It's like you read his mind, since he stopped right in his tracks as he was about to settle down at your feet.

"I can handle it."

"So can I."

"No, you–"

"You know I can."

After a quick round of back and forth, you convinced him to not sleep on the old ragged carpet of the living room. But what now?

You could almost see the gears turning in is head. But he eventually came up with something, which was by far, the dumbest thing he's ever done, and something that he will probably regret forever.

"Move over."

He tried to make this quick and easy, and you only followed his command as he pushed you a hit to squeeze in behind you, now between you and the couch.

Being the nice person you are, you gave him some of your blanket, and he surprisingly accepted.

It was an awkward situation, with Legend pressed against your back in dead silence, squeezed together to avoid falling onto the well-aged carpet in the middle of the night.

At first I was hard to even keep your eyes closed, but exhaustion slowly took over as your eyes started to droop.

But something ripped you out of your peace that made your heart speed up.

The veteran had draped his arm over you, holding you close as you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. It was heavy and calm, which meant sleep probably took him earlier than you.

But you knew he was a light sleeper, so without any resistance, you held onto his arm before exhaustion finally took you into a deep sleep.

♤————————

You thought you had rested well, but turns out it was still way too early, since the sun wasn't even up yet.

And you weren't the first to notice, since Legend's arm was gone from your hold, but he was still there, probably trying to keep some distance between your bodies.

You couldn't resist the temptation anymore, imagining his drowsy eyes and his hair all over the place. You shifted your body carefully, slowly turning over to face him.

He was already observing you from the moment he was awake, but there was another awkward stare between you two.

And man.

He looked even better than you imagined.

Everything about him looked more appealing than ever. Or maybe you didn't notice until getting so close to him.

...

"Morning."

You attempt to break the silence of the early morning, wanting to stay on good terms with him.

"Morning."

He replied the same way. He never was much of a talker in the morning, and you didn't mind it.

It felt strange comforting to lay there with him. It warms your heart at just how nice he could be.

But you didn't expect him to do such a bold move.

He was now huddled up to you again, this time with his face buried in your chest. You could see his blush reaching all the way up to his long pointy ears, and my god was he cute.

The comforting space you created only got better as he seemed to relax against you, with your hand now placed on his back to keep him there.

"Hey?"

You tried to get his attention, which succeeded as he looked up at you, his face still flushed a reddish color.

"Is it okay if I rant a little?"

Legend agreed without much interest, bringing you forth to start rambling mindlessly to him. It was almost therapeutic having someone to talk to. And it seemed like he really didn't mind, just wanting to hold onto you.

It's kind of funny, how the one hero that is always so tense is cuddling with you at this moment.

Both of you lay there in silence for a long time, almost falling asleep again from the little comfort bubble you've created.

Legend's face was burried in your chest as you traced some nonsensical patterns on his back.

But then both of you started hearing the creaking footsteps coming from the guests room, where the other heroes are situated.

Before you could even say something to alert Legend, he sprung up from the couch, almost tumbling over you as he got up.

He was up just in time, as Time and Warriors entered the living room area.

"Morning. Where were you two even? I didn't see you at all."

Warriors mentioned as he walked over, just being curious.

"I slept on the floor while [Name] was on the couch."

Legend lied right in his face, but you could understand that he didn't want to be seen cuddling with anyone.

"Protecting the ladies, are we?"

Warriors started teasing again, which immediately broke out into a bickering fight.

But Time was watching this conversation with a big smirk before stopping them from causing any accidents.

Time had come to the kitchen at night to get some water. And on the way there, he spotted the two of you huddled up together.

But your secret is safe with him.

It's not as bad as I thought it would be, and that's wonderful👍

Now that the children have been fed, I must dissapear for another 3 months.

Peace✌️

—♡

[crazypsychonerdstuff]

Excuse the extremely detailed request, but if you are ok with it, could you do a Black Hat x reader oneshot where the reader is a demon/eldritch abomination similar to Black Hat and they work for him and they both have feelings for eachother but neither of them say anything for a long time and it eventually takes reader getting injured in some way for him to confess to her?

For some background to where the idea came from, My horse pushed me over the other day into a patch of nettles and they stung my hand and arm pretty bad and I had a reaction that meant I needed to get antihistamines from the doctor because it was so bad. while I was recovering, I was struggling to do everyday tasks as the grip in my hand was affected, and I kept dropping stuff and not able to grip thinklgs like door handles properly! It got me thinking how would our favourite eldritch horror react if the person he secretly cared about was injured? Not enough to put them out of action completely, but more just an inconvenience that was affecting their day to day life?

I also remember thinking at one point "what if he kissed it better? Like, his kisses literally made it better? eldritch saliva having healing properties or something?" Idk. It popped into my head and it seemed like an interesting concept at the time!

Sorry if this is too detailed or weird! You don't have to write it if you don't want to! I just don't see many active blogs that write for Black Hat at the moment!

-🍉

Oh no! Hope you're feeling better now! Bad horse!

Sorry this is so late btw... it's been sat half finished in my drafts since before Christmas! 😱

Hope this will suffice! It's been too long since I've written anything other than headcanons!! I think the extra detail and context actually helped me write this, so thanks!

CW: mildly suggestive? If you squint? Thought I'd mention it just in case. Eldritch abomination licks your hand. So if that makes anyone uncomfortable, I guess... 🤷

Anyhow, without further ado:

CRASH!

That was the fourth time you'd dropped something today. Luckily though, it was almost time for you to retire from your cleaning duties for the night, but before you had chance to pick up the dropped items, Black Hat growled at you, his fangs showing in a vicious snarl. "What's wrong with you?! you're being even more of a klutz than usual."

You growled back, not intimidated in the least by the other eldritch creature. "I hurt my hand earlier, but what do you care?"

Black Hat huffed and rolled his eyes, his voice becoming softer than you though possible for him: "Why didn't you say something? What did you do?" he put his pen down and turned to face you fully; 'was he actually implying he was going to listen to me?' You thought in disbelief.

"I fell in some of those damned 'killer nettles' of yours when I went out to fetch something." You snarled back, fangs showing slightly in agitation, though any malice remaining in your voice no longer directed at the other Demon but at yourself for your own clumsiness.

His face dropped, the remainder of his malevolent snarl transforming to a look of pure worry, something that looked unsettlingly foreign coming from him: "You bloody idiot! Why didn't you tell me? Those things cause paralysis, you're lucky you're not human, or you'd likely be unable to move for days at the very least. You could be dead!"

You were taken aback by his clear concern, thoughts rushing through your head 'Was he alright? This wasn't like him. Was this even Black Hat sat in front of you right now?' You looked at him not quite sure what to say or do. "Sir?"

"Come here. And don't call me 'sir' when we're alone." His voice was quiet, and despite maintaining his usual air of confidence, the eldritch being refused eye contact, instead looking to the papers on his desk.

"But Si- Black Hat..." as if you were not already confused, his lack of spite really threw you off guard.

"Just come here, will you?" he held out a gloved hand to you. "I just want to check the damage it's done. I'm not going to bite you." If you didn't know better, you'd have said that a small smirk played on his lips at that last comment.

Hesitantly, you took a step toward him, reaching out your injured hand to rest it in his outstretched one. The moment your hands came into contact with each other, he gently pulled you over to where he was sat, the suddenness of the movement causing you to lose your balance and fall into his lap.

Black Hat grinned. "Not so bad, was it? Now, let me see the damage." He turned your hand over in his own, which was surprisingly warm. You'd always imagined he'd be cold for some reason...

You breathed an internal sigh of relief when his attention was no longer on your face and instead on your hand, for by now, you were certain your face had become a shade of red to rival a tomato.

"It could have been a lot worse, but luckily for you, your reactions seem similar to my own. Without treatment, it should return to normal in a few days." he looked back up at you after assessing the damage done to your hand, "but..." and he paused, bringing your injured hand up to his lips and softly kissed the stinging wound.

If you weren't blushing before, you sure as hell were now. 'Who was this man? And what had he done with my boss?' You thought, a mild panic seeping into you at the out of character display of affection.

Ok, so it was no big secret that you had a crush on the other demon, so needless to say, you quite enjoyed the affection he was practically showering you with - for him at least - but it still seemed wrong, or at least a little off; this was not like Black Hat at all.

You opened your mouth to speak, only to shut it again, unable to form words as his forked tongue slipped out to gently lick the stinging red patch covering the palm of your hand and part of your wrist, all the time maintaining eye contact. Despite the embarrassing position, you were beyond grateful for the fact that you were sitting down as you was positive that, had you been standing, your legs would have given out the moment his lips touched your skin.

"... But, with the appropriate remedy, it should be better by tomorrow morning." The eldritch creature smiled, actually smiled - not his usual malevolent, twisted grin - at you. "As you know, to lesser beings, an eldritch being such as myself's saliva is positively lethal, but to a creature of a similar nature, it has rather potent healing properties." The eldritch's arm around your waist tightened slightly, pulling you back against his firm chest.

"Black -" your voice was barely above a whisper, too stunned to say much else.

He purred quietly next to your ear in response before nuzzling into your neck affectionately. "You have no idea what you do to me, my dear."

his quiet voice, along with his breath fanning over your burning skin, sent pleasant shivers down your spine, and it took all of your willpower not to lean back and melt completely into his warm embrace. "wha-what's got into you, sir? Are y-are you feeling alright?"

"Never better, my love..." He hummed, leaning his chin on your shoulder. "I regret not telling you sooner, it's been torturing me since you came to work for me..." he paused for a moment as if considering whether to actually tell you or not. "...I love you."

those three words stunned you into complete silence. what had Demencia put in his coffee?!

"Sir... I-I'm not sure what is wrong with you, but you are not yourself... I think maybe I should get Flug." not that you didn't like the attention you were getting from your boss, just that it was not like him at all and you were by now convinced that somebody (Demencia) had somehow gotten him drunk for some terrible prank.

"Look, don't get Flug there's nothing he can do. It is true that I love you and I have ever since you came to work for me..." it was Black Hat's turn to avoid eye contact. "I know, you find it hard to believe, and so did I for a long time, but I guess flug has his uses after all, as it was his slip up that gave me the confidence to finally confess." The eldritch abomination suddenly didn't seem so terrifying to you. In fact, he seemed, dare you think, quite sweet.

You finally gave in and melted into his embrace; "I love you too, Black Hat." You brought your hand up to the side of his head and tilted your own so that your lips met his own.

[mythicalage]

Maybe This Was All A Mistake - HKS

synopsis: things aren't looking so good in your relationship after 3 years of being with your bf

characters: bf!shota x fem!reader

a/n: i've never published anything on tumblr so pls bear w me as i try to figure things out 😞 also dont know when to add warnings and stuff (non-idol au btw)

everything was totally fine for the past 3 years. perfect even. so why was there so much tension between you and shota?

well you knew why; the constant arguing over stupid shit which would then snowball into bigger things. usually you guys were so good at dealing with arguments and would end with a mutual understanding.

it's gotten to the point where you're tired of shota's mixed signals. he'd distance himself from you, get angry whenever you wanted attention so when you returned the favor, suddenly he'd turn into a clingy bf.

after 5 months of ranting about the issue to your friends, they were completely over it. reasonably so. they'd always give advice and voice their opinions but you never listened.

"break up with him"

"i dont think i can give up 3 years this easily. he's been better recently."

"yeah and then hes gonna go back to being an asshole"

"we don't know that. maybe its just those situations where we have a few struggles in the relationship and everything will be better again."

"girl— oh my gosh."

maybe you were actually stupid to believe that. nothing changed. it was the same never-ending cycle. did you actually waste 3 entire years on him? 1,239 days if you want to get specific. was the time actually wasted if you were happy with him for the first two years? did the love just wear off?

you both had gone out to downtown, walking around and stopping at a cafe where you two had your first date together. you guys came here pretty often, usually happy, but today was just rather sad. shota only scrolled on his phone as you both were sat right by the large window, waiting for your drinks.

you sighed, biting the inside of your cheek as your chest began to feel heavy. you watched soul mindlessly scroll on his phone, occasionally texting. he still had the polaroid picture of you behind his phone case but you wondered why he even bothered keeping it there. or maybe he simply didn't care enough to take it out.

"order for an iced matcha latte and an iced americano!" the worker placed the two drinks over the counter to which shota looked over and then glanced at you.

"i'll get it." you pushed your chair back and went over to grab the drinks. "thank you," you forced a smile at the worker and received a nod.

you don't really know why you ordered the most basic, kind of disgusting, drink ever. you weren't in the mood to drink or eat anything. as you sat back down, you slid the green latte over to shota and he finally placed his phone down, taking the drink into his hands. "thanks."

"its been a while since we've last been here," your voice was soft but had little to no emotion to it.

"yeah, it has been." shota took a sip of his drink before moving the cup in his hand in a circular motion, probably to mix everything.

it was depressing to see him this way. he was normally very silly, making random noises or rambling on and on about things he's into. it'd be an understatement to say you missed it. maybe it's too late to get that version of haku shota back. maybe you're just not the person who can bring it out of him anymore.

you didn't realize tears had brimmed your eyes until you felt the huge lump in your throat. you shouldn't cry. not in front of him at least and definitely not in public.

shota looked up at you from his drink. he stayed quiet for a moment before finally speaking. "you okay?" he reached for your hand and interlaced your fingers together. part of you wanted to snatch your hand away but the other part wanted to feel the warmth of his hand for as long as you could — before you commit to your decision of breaking away from him.

"shota," you choked on your voice, biting your bottom lip afterwards as tears begin to finally slip down your cheeks. you looked at his face before looking down at your hands, "lets.. break up."

although you didn't see it, shota's face dropped, his mouth slightly gaped. "you.. want to break up...?" his grip on your hand loosened but he didn't let go completely.

you only nodded to his response, biting your lip to prevent any sobs from becoming audible, simultaneously trying to stop the tears to no avail.

"baby, what? why? please, let's just talk about this." shota pleaded quietly but loud enough for you to hear.

you looked back up, your eye makeup slightly ruined by the tears. you sniffled as you took your hand away from his, "shota, you know why." you fought to not let your voice crack, carefully dabbing the tears off your cheeks and from underneath your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.

"no, i don't know why. sure we have these small moments where we're upset but that's normal. we always go back to how it used to be, do we not?" he leans over the table and cups your cheek with his hand, his sad eyes looking into your teary ones.

you think about it. maybe he is right. you might've been thinking a little irrationally.

no. this can't happen again.

you shake your head, pushing his hand away from your face and you get up from your chair. "no shota. i'm tired of feeling this way. you give me attention when you feel like you're losing me but after a while, you go back to being a dickhead." you frown, taking your drink into your hand.

he gets up as well but leaves his drink on the table. at this point a few people are staring but it doesn't matter. "please y/n. don't leave me. we can fix this."

"there's no 'we' anymore, shota. i'm sorry." you drop your head.

shota only stays quiet. he grabs his drink and tosses it into the nearby trashcan and does the same to the cup in your hand. he knows you don't even like americanos.

when you guys came in not too long ago and ordered the drinks, he was confused as to why you had bought it. it doesn't matter anyway.

he swallows the lump that had now formed in his throat, taking a deep breath before talking.

"can i at least hug you for one last time?"

your heart shatters. you look into his eyes with blurry vision due to the tears and you wrap your arms around his body.

his face meets the top of your head as his arms hug your waist, rocking both of your bodies side to side as you silently sob into his chest.

"i'm sorry i couldn't be a better boyfriend to you."

after the hug you couldn't get yourself to say goodbye to him. you simply let go and walked outside and got yourself an uber.

this is going to be a bitch to get over.

a/n: definitely not my best work but i somewhat tried whidkwkd if this is total shit lmk 😭😭 wattpad-esque ahh story omg

[sushisocks]

DO U HAVE ANY ANGSTY SEAN HEADCANONS??? OR ANY AT ALL??

DO I HAVE ANGSTY SEAN HEADCANONS???!? Is my tumblr url sushisocks??? I'm including just a couple non-angsty ones that are v important to me bcz we're here to have fun, after all lolol

Lets start out with a light one; Sean absolutely has ADHD and dyslexia. Everybody knows Sean can't read, but nobody asks WHY Sean can't read despite frequent opportunities to learn. Based on the camp interactions with Lenny, we know he has been willing to attempt to learn, but has given up. This reads a lot more like learning disability to me, than it does laziness!!

In a similar vein; Sean taking frequent naps/falling asleep a lot is because he's a light sleeper - he has had a hard time falling asleep and staying that way ever since his father got murdered in his bed by the law. Left an impression Sean can't really shake even when surrounded by friends and allies - it's easier to nap when it's light out and people are awake in the area. Combine that with the ADHD and suddenly he's sleeping when he's not supposed to - like on guard duty.

Btw Sean has REAL BAD nightmares so that doesn't help at ALL either

Sean's mom probably passed when he was very young - he doesn't have any tangible memories of her in the same way he does his dad. Telling stories about him is how Sean keeps the only real family he had alive.

SIMILARLY I imagine it was just the two of them fleeing to America together; Sean was right there when Darragh got killed in his sleep - I imagine him waking up to a gunshot tbh.

In previous posts I've talked some about Sean's parallels and similarities to Arthur. Consider; Sean having similar self-esteem issues as Arthur, but instead of being quiet and disparaging about it, Sean covers it up by boasting and talking a big game. Nobody tries to talk Sean up because they all think he has a big ego, and it sort of just feeds into the insecurities Sean already has & is trying to avoid thinking about.

Also; Sean is generally an open book about his feelings, but he struggles a LOT with being truly vulnerable or getting at the deeper stuff. He'll also always downplay and make a joke out of truly traumatic and desperate situations he's been in. Though he DOES tell you what happened, he's chuckling and acting like it's nothing. (This isn't even a headcanon, he actually does this very consistently. It's why Karen is so mad at him in that one camp interaction after the party lol)

The only times Sean feels comfortable not being The Camp Clown is when Dutch isn't around, with a limited amount of people to witness. He still feels weird about the fact that he did actually try to kill him, when they first met, like he actually pulled the trigger (I feel like people are prone to forget this abt him), and he's never sure if Dutch might resent or distrust him a little for it. Same goes for Hosea.

A MacSummers one I came up w on discord literally yesterday; Sean has a Claddagh ring heirloom he got from his late mother through his late father. He gifts it to Lenny at some point, who doesn't realize the symbolism, just the sentimental value. Lenny wears it on a chain around his neck.

The previous one could work for MacJones too but tbh I think it hits harder for MacSummers lol (im biased)

Sean blocked out a lot of what he experienced while holed up at Ike Skelding's; the teethpulling and the burned feet were probably some of the lighter things he had to endure.

Sidenote the fact that his feet were fucking burned being as brushed off as it is makes me fucking insane. How bad were they burned Sean? Are you in pain atm? Should you be walking?