#trench really changed him for the better

[clancyismylover]

NO BECAUSE HOW DOES THIS-

[i'll make a cup of coffee for your head....]

TURN INTO THIS?!?!?!

[CUT MY LIFE INTO PIECES, THIS IS MY LAST RESORT-]

[ckret2]

Chapter 51 of human Bill Cipher is once more the Mystery Shack's prisoner: Dipper and Mabel try to figure out what the Axolotl's poem means; Dipper gets the hang of astral projection; and... whatever's going on up there happens.

####

Ford and Dipper came back into the shack through the gift shop; Ford didn't want to risk crossing paths with Bill. While Dipper went into the house, Ford went down—returning to the safety of his subterranean study.

Once Ford had put on the old black trench coat he'd worn during his multiversal travels and gotten comfortable at his desk, he pulled out Journal 5 to document the events of the last few days. In a cheap ballpoint pen, he wrote, I've lost my #1 Grunkle pen (and favorite coat) to the waters of Lake Gravity Falls. And then, deciding this didn't adequately express his feelings, he drew a small frown. That coat had served him well for decades, and he'd really liked that pen. It did write excellently, and it had reminded him of his gniece and gnephew.

He spent three pages documenting the eclipse—what happened, what readings he'd taken, what he and Dipper observed—and then another four pages talking about Bill. What he'd told them, why Ford had dismissed it; his claims about a trans-dimensional axolotl distorting gravity with its migration; the statue, the rescue, the breakdown.

The act of writing always helped Ford clarify his thoughts and untangle mysteries; it wasn't until he was writing that he realized the limbs Bill had said he couldn't feel were the ones that had broken off the statue.

He listed the rules of the chess variants he could remember Bill inventing. He drew Bill huddled in front of the board, grim, tear-streaked, exhausted; and then scratched out his face, embarrassed at the thought of immortalizing such a raw moment for his private viewing.

He wrote, There's still a slim possibility that the entire "eclipse," start to finish, was Bill's masterfully-orchestrated scheme to make us pity and trust him; but it's unlikely. Although Bill is fiendish enough, he isn't currently powerful enough, and his lies certainly aren't elaborate enough. If he could pull off such a byzantine ruse, then he could just as easily escape—and if he can escape, why hasn't he? Bill may be insane, but he's never been THAT irrational.

And so, even as twisted as Bill's idea of "friendship" is... for the very first time, I'm convinced that he was telling the truth all along when he said he wants me as his friend. It's not an act. He risked his life to save someone who's an active threat to him.

And at the end of it all—though I'm grateful to be alive in spite of my own stubbornness—do I like him any better for it?

Ford leaned back and shut his eyes, sifting through the inner tumult of anger and old hurt that defined most of his memories of Bill, looking to see if anything had changed.

There was a sore, tender spot in his emotions, a place beginning to rot with remorse; when he prodded at those emotions, he found that it was shame over his own harsh conduct of the last couple of days. But he was only ashamed of how cruelly he'd acted; he wasn't ashamed that Bill was the one he'd done it to.

Outside of that tender spot—regret over his own behavior—nothing else had changed.

No. I still hate him. I'm grateful to be alive, but I hate him. He hasn't undone anything he did to my family and me, and he never will. Forgiveness can't be purchased with favors.

I'm only relieved at the certainty of it. Bill has committed an act that can't possibly be a lie. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's shown me the truth; and the truth is he'd rather see me alive than dead. Whatever other lies he may tell, I can hold on to that fact.

Bill's miserable eyes peered out at Ford between the scribbles he'd drawn across his face. It was truly a pity that Ford had to hate him. Pity that Bill hadn't been somebody better. He could have been better.

Ford couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed that he'd filled four pages talking about the monster he'd already wasted so many more on. Bill had been right about him: You might hate me to my face, but behind my back you're as obsessed with me as ever. The only thing Bill didn't understand was that hatred and obsession weren't mutually incompatible.

####

"Hey, Dipper," Mabel said, unfolding the living room sofa bed. 

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said, passing through living room on his way to the stairs. He climbed up to the attic.

He came back down from the attic. "Mabel. Why's Bill asleep in your bed."

"He really needed a nap," Mabel said.

"Okay but why on your bed?"

Mabel pouted. "Dipper, do you realize he's never slept on a real bed? Ever?"

Dipper tried to imagine sleeping on a couple couch cushions on the floor every night. "Yeah, okay, that does kinda suck." Even if it was Bill's own fault he wouldn't sleep in the living room.

By unspoken mutual agreement, having a Bill in the bedroom followed the same law as finding a centipede in the bathroom. The law was "that's the centipede's bathroom now." So once the folding bed was set up, they sat on it to serve as their hang-out spot for the evening and caught each other up on what they'd done the last couple of days.

After Dipper & Co. had left, Grenda had come over to take advantage of the low gravity to retrieve the kite that had been stuck in a tree near the Mystery Shack since last summer (it was, tragically, too tattered to salvage), and then they'd gone over to Candy's house to photograph each other performing feats of impossible strength. (Mabel would be sending some pictures to their parents to confuse them, and adding the rest to her summer scrapbook.) She'd spent the next day breaking the trampoline world record until Soos came outside and said gravity was probably too low for it to be safe to be up in the air anymore, if Bill's warnings about being off the ground when gravity hit zero were true; at which point Mabel had hung around inside air-swimming until she suddenly slammed against the ceiling, and then the ground. She was fine. She just had a couple of bruises. She showed Dipper her bruises.

In return, Dipper told Mabel about how their quest had gone: the checks for micro-rips, Bill's increasingly frantic warnings, the lake—

("You got to see a bajillion magical axolotls and I didn't?!")

—the cliff, the Axolotl, Dipper's near-death experience, and what he now knew about his out-of-body dreams.

"Seriously?" Mabel hissed, eyes bugging out. "And he had us looking up lucid dreaming books! What a jerk!"

"I know! He could have just ignored the whole thing, we didn't even think it was anything but dreams."

"And I'd thought he was being so helpful, too! Like he was really trying to make up for giving you 'nightmares'!" Mabel laughed in disbelief and flopped down on the flimsy mattress. "All that because he just didn't want us to know how it was really his fault? Biiill, ugh."

His fault. Dipper hesitated, wondering whether he should tell Mabel what Bill had said about Mabel's Fault; then decided against it. Bill had probably been telling the truth when he'd said he only wanted all the credit for Weirdmageddon.

But—Dipper did tell her about Bill saving their lives. He would have felt like a liar if he hadn't—like he was trying to trick his sister into thinking Bill was worse than he already was. He hoped Ford wouldn't mind; but how could he not tell Mabel?

"He could have just let you die and didn't?" Mabel turned that over in her head, processing this sudden shift in Bill's behavior. "Wow. I'm impressed."

He also told her about their previous encounter with the Axolotl. Considering the other lies Bill had told recently, anything he said about them meeting the Axolotl was dubious at best; but Dipper could remember the Axolotl, so maybe some of it was true, even if Bill had twisted as much as he could. ("The Axolotl said hi, by the way." "Aww. Tell him hi back!" "Yeah, I... don't know how to do that.")

Dipper laid out his journal between them on the folding bed, and Mabel read over the couplet a few times. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches from within birch trees'..."

"It's got to be talking about Bill," Dipper said. "Equilateral triangles have three sixty-degree angles. I just don't know why the Axolotl wanted to talk to us about him."

Mabel frowned at the lines. "I think... I remember meeting him too," she said.

"You do?"

"Kinda. Like in a dream," she said. "We were in some kind of futury space race car. And he had a really comfortable beanbag chair."

"Yes! I remembered the beanbag chair, too!" And he hadn't mentioned it in his journal. "This is great! Talking about it must... must cause us to remember, somehow. Maybe since the universe where we met the Axolotl doesn't exist anymore, our memories of it are... detached or something? Psychically floating around between dimensions until we try to remember them?" He took in Mabel's skeptical frown and shrugged. "I don't know!"

She scrunched up her face. "Ugh. Last summer's first-grader time travel was complicated enough. This is like college-level time travel. Maybe we can ask Bill how it works?"

She said it so easily, like she thought it was actually a good idea. Right after she'd heard about the lucid dreaming thing, too. "I don't think he'd help." Dipper lowered his voice. "He really didn't want Grunkle Ford and me to find out about the Axolotl—and he kept telling me not to think about what the Axolotl told me. He's trying to cover something up."

"Oo-oo-ooh." Voice dropped to a whisper, Mabel said, "Do you think it's some kind of Space Axolotl conspiracy?"

"It could be," Dipper said. "All I know is he was trying to tell us something important about Bill. Some kind of prophecy, or... maybe a warning...?"

He trailed off. Mabel had stopped listening to Dipper. She was rereading the couplet Dipper had written, moving her lips like she was murmuring under her breath—but whatever she was saying, it was much longer than the couplet Dipper had written down. Distractedly, she said, "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah, here." Dipper quickly handed over the pen he kept in his vest.

Mabel clicked it, went to the bottom of the page, and wrote: A different form, a different time.

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath as the words snapped into place in his mind. "That's it! That was the last line! What else do you remember?"

"That's it," Mabel said. "It was free form poetry with a bunch of rhyme pairs."

"I don't think free form poetry rhymes."

"Pbbbt." Mabel blew a raspberry and shoved Dipper's face. "Whatever! You know what I mean." She pointed at the last line. "Do you think the poem's about why Bill's here? He time traveled to the Mystery Shack in a new body..."

"Exactly! Bill must be back here for a reason. He's got all those powers—or, used to, anyway—and he knows more about the multiverse than anybody on Earth... Maybe there's some kind of big threat coming, and Bill's the only one who can stop it, and—and the Axolotl wanted us to know...?"

"I like the sound of that," Mabel said. "That'd basically make him a hero, right?"

Dipper grimaced. "I mean. I guess? But we're talking about Bill. If he does help us stop a threat, it'd be like if a serial killer picked up a hitchhiker and killed him, and then it turned out the hitchhiker was an even worse serial killer."

"That still sounds kinda heroic to me."

"Pfff, okay." He looked at his journal. "But... what is he here to do?"

Mabel considered what they'd already written. "Maybe we can use him to spy on our enemies through birch trees!"

"Thaaat's probably not it."

"No, I think I'm on to something. I can feel it."

There was a lot of empty space between his couplet and Mabel's line. "There's more we're missing, though. Maybe the rest of the poem describes the threat? Or what we need to get Bill to do?"

"I can't remember anything else, though."

"Me neither."

They stared at the page together, waiting for something to come to their blank minds. Mabel looked at the fish tank. "Hey, Primrose! Do you know anything?"

The pet axolotl in the tank ignored her serenely.

Dipper said, "'Primrose'?"

"Yeah, last summer Grunkle Stan said her name is Freakface, but I thought she deserved a cuter name. She's primrose color!"

"Ford says he originally named him Nikola."

Mabel gasped. "Nikki..."

Dipper twisted around to look at the axolotl. "Do you know anything? Do you... get messages from the Axolotl's heralds, or anything...?"

Nikola slowly opened his mouth, and slowly closed it.

Mabel said, "Hey. The Axolotl's one of those dimension-crossy time-travely guys, right? He probably wouldn't have given us a prophecy in the wrong timeline and then made us forget it unless he knew we'd remember it in time in the rightdimension!"

"I guess," Dipper said uncertainly.

"So we don't need to worry about it! We'll remember it when we need to."

"Unless this timeline's going to branch, and the only one where we survive is the one where we put all our effort into trying to remembering—"

"Shhh!" Mabel put a finger over Dipper's mouth. "Uh-uh. No college time travel. We'll be fine!"

Dipper pushed her over. "Okay, but we should at least try a little to remember what the Axolotl told us."

"What if we work on it separately?" Mabel propped herself up on an elbow. "Instead of just sitting around thinking about it. And whenever we remember a line, we can tell each other and see if it makes anything click."

"That might be faster," Dipper said, stroking his chin. "We're already remembering different lines."

"Yeah! And that lucid dreaming book said something about focusing on a problem before you sleep so you can figure it out in your dreams! We can just work on it in our sleep and we'll remember it all in no time!"

Dipper laughed. "What? No way, I think lucid dreaming is just one of those made up pop psychology things. I didn't get it to work at all." Either it didn't work or Bill had deliberately recommended a terrible book.

"I did! I can remember like... eighty percent more dreams. And I can tell when I'm dreaming a lot more often!"

"Huh." Or, maybe Dipper just wasn't doing it right. "Maybe I need to start over from step one. Do you know where the book we were using went?"

"Over here!" Mabel had set a couple library books on the end table next to the sofa bed; she pulled out the second one, which had a glittery pink bookmark with a cat on it stuck two-thirds of the way through. "Just don't lose my bookmark."

"Thanks." He'd reread the first step before bed. "We should probably be getting ready for bed anyway, huh?"

"Seriously?! It's barely bedtime!" And when the adults weren't watching, official bedtime was an hour and a half before Actual Bedtime.

"I'm exhausted. I just hiked up and down a mountain and faced down death."

Mabel pointed at Nikola. "You faced down a big salamander."

"Close enough."

They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, went to their bedroom...

And stopped in the door. Bill was still asleep. "Oh. Right," Dipper said.

He was curled into a ball on his left side, facing the wall, covered with only the zodiac blanket and his borrowed/stolen top hat sitting on the side of his head. He didn't use a pillow; he'd pushed Mabel's pillows and dolls behind himself to form a squishy makeshift fortress.

"Please don't wake him up," Mabel whispered. (She'd already set up the folding bed for herself; she'd clearly planned on this.) "He's had a really really hard time the last couple of days, and I think he needs as much sleep in a real bed as he can get, and it's just for one night, and I'm sure he'd rather sleep than do anything evil—"

"He said something, didn't he?"

Mabel paused. "Yeah. I think seeing his body really messed him up."

Dipper sighed. "We were trying to keep him away from it." He didn't want Mabel to think they'd forced him to stare his own death in the face. "But he did that... eye thing and looked through the trees, and..."

Mabel nodded.

Well. Dipper couldn't kick him out now. For Mabel's sake.

As children, occasionally when they got hotel rooms with a bed too few, their parents would stick them in one bed with a barrier of pillows in between them. At age thirteen and without two crabby parents trying to get them to just go to bed after a long plane flight, they unanimously vetoed that plan. Dipper decided against asking Stan if he could sleep in Ford's unoccupied bed, both because he suspected Stan would just go upstairs and drag Bill out of the room and because he didn't want Stan to think he was scared of Bill. He wasn't scared of Bill. Not anymore. He could handle one measly night in the same room as him. Anyway, somebody had to make sure he wasn't unsupervised in their bedroom all night, right?

Dipper and Mabel quietly set a floor mirror and old lamp next to Mabel's bed, draped a sheet between them, taped on a pink poster that said "WARNING! TRIANGLE ZONE!" and was covered in stickers of triangular objects, and decided Dipper was adequately shielded. If Bill did get up during the night, he'd probably trip through the sheet and wake half the house before he got anywhere near Dipper.

Dipper went to sleep with a baseball bat in his hands.

####

"Okay," Bill said, hands on his sides, "what am I looking at here?"

The feral band members of Sev'ral Timez turned toward Bill, eyes reflecting in the dim light. They were squatting around Bill's petrified corpse like a pack of apes examining a sleek black monolith.

"Hey girl," Creggy G. said.

"Hey," Bill said. He looked down at himself. His onyx black feet hovered over the ground and the yellow glow from his exoskeleton illuminated the clearing. "Lemme cut to the chase, is this gonna turn into a raunchy dream? My corporeal love life is about as cold and dry as Antarctica, I keep hoping one of my dreams will get a little hotter and wetter—"

"Nah, G," Deep Chris said. "Mr. Bratsman got us fixed."

"Aw."

"We're here to pay you reverence for freeing our minds from the chains of the conventional," Greggy C said, gesturing to Bill's corpse. Leggy P was kneeling and bowing to it and Chubby Z was posing for it. "We want to help free you like you tried to help free humanity."

Bill's eye narrowed. He tapped a finger against the edge of one brick as he considered this offer. Finally, skeptically, he said, "Fine. I'll bite. Why should I think you can help me?"

"Because we can give you the understanding your heart's been missing, girl. You're just like us," Chubby Z said. "A horror never meant to exist, born of a dream to construct the perfect golden idol, forced to dwell within an unnaturally-fabricated human shell."

Bill tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm with you so far."

"We want you to join us," Deep Chris said. "Cavort with us in the silvan night, G. Shun the harsh light of the spotlight for the healing salve of moonbeams. We'll get drunk on the sweet fermented summer berries, uncaring of how the brambles prick our flesh. We'll dance in a frenzy of ecstasy and only sleep when the morning sun lifts the dew from the flowers and the sweat from our skin. It'll be straight Dionysian, boo."

"We can kiss the hot trees," Creggy G said.

Bill grabbed his shoulder. "Oh, you're the human that keeps making out with birch trees! I knew your face was familiar!" He paused. "So... are there any eligible ones around here?"

"Sure, girl, just downstream."

"If I'd known, I would've polished myself first."

"Say you'll join us, Bill girl," Deep Chris said. The band crowded around Bill to either side, posing around him—the backup dancers for the star singer. "You'd be one of us."

"We're already exactly the same," Creggy G said, holding up a mirror so that it reflected his and Bill's faces beside each other. In Bill's human face were two empty white eyes with pinprick pupils and pale blue irises, exactly the same as the eyes of the Sev'ral Timez boys.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to his face. There were still green boughs at the edges of his dreaming vision, blending into the wooden boards of the Mystery Shack's attic. Before sleep had fully fled his mind, he seized up the zodiac blanket draped over his body and stared into his embroidered eye.

The eye stared back at him. Through it, he could see his horrified sleepy face, and his normal slitted yellow eyes. His connection to the blanket's eye disappeared as he finished waking up.

He heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down. He'd been lucid, but he hadn't been in control of that dream. He still needed practice.

He rolled toward the light of the window, groped around beneath it until he found his journal, grabbed up his crayons, and flipped pages blearily until he found the first blank one. He started writing down his dream, pausing only briefly as he tried to figure out how to translate "Sev'ral Timez" before settling on a sufficiently goofy way to misspell "several times" in Plaintext.

He made it halfway down the page before he stopped. Hold on. This wasn't his beautiful journal. These were not his beautiful crayons. He checked the cover and grimaced in displeasure when he saw a pine tree rather than a hand. Dipper's journal. Bill ripped out the page, ate it, and set the journal and Mabel's crayons back on the table  under the bedroom window.

"What was that," Dipper asked, "some kind of Morse code?"

Bill yelped and twisted around. Dipper's soul was hovering above Mabel's headboard, watching over Bill's shoulder.

"Hey! Back, foul ghost!" Bill snatched up Mabel's pillow and swung it at Dipper.

"Ow—Hey! How did you hit me, I'm in the mindscape—"

"I said back!" Bill swung again, chasing Dipper off the bed. "Back into your fleshy tomb!" He climbed off the bed, stumbled into Dipper and Mabel's trap, tripped through the sheet and probably woke up half the house.

He yanked the sheet off and flung the pillow at Dipper by its corner. "Now get back in your body, go to sleep, and leave me alone."

"I don't know how to get back in it. I just wait until it happens by itself," Dipper said, floating irritably over his sleeping body, arms crossed. "Why do you think I just wander around every time I have this dream?" He paused. "Right—it's not a dream, is it."

Bill sighed heavily. "Try putting your body on like..." He almost said like an exoskeleton, remembered his audience, and amended himself: "Like it's clothing. I usually start with the hands. Just like putting on gloves!"

Dipper looked at the cold fingers wrapped tightly around the baseball bat. "How do I put hands on like gloves? There's no opening or—"

"Just try it, would you?" Bill sat tiredly on the edge of Mabel's bed.

Dipper shot him an irritated look, but pressed his ghostly hands against his fleshly ones, passing through the skin until one set of fingers rested inside the other. A fingertip twitched. 

Bill gestured with one hand, continue. "Now the sleeves."

"I know how to get dressed." Dipper laid down in his body, forearm into forearm, shoulder into shoulder—until he was wholly back inside. He sat up, awake. "Huh."

"There, see?" Bill said. "And if you want to take it back off, just do the same thing in reverse. Like degloving your body from your soul!"

"Did you have to phrase it like that?" Still, Dipper tried it, peeling out of his body from the fingertips up. He left his body sitting upright as he hovered over it.

Bill chuckled tiredly. "Lookit your face, staring at nothing. Stupid looking."

"Shut up." He slid back into his body, more quickly now that he knew what he was doing.

"Great," Bill said. "Now that you know how to get back in your body, never do that again." He flopped back onto Mabel's bed and rolled over to face the wall. "It's a pain in my base having you wander around all night."

"Then you should've thought of that before you ripped my soul out of my body," Dipper grumbled. "Can you reattach me to my body?"

"Sure, easy." He lifted a hand to point down at his regrettably human form. "Not like this, though. Wanna help reattach me to my body?"

"Never in a million years."

"Then come back in a million years. There's nothing I can do for you until then." Bill dragged Mabel's zodiac blanket back over himself. "So sorry. Go to sleep. Leave me alone."

Dipper bet Bill could do it and was only saying he couldn't to try to trick Dipper into helping him. But he lay back down—clutching his bat again—and shut his eyes.

After a moment, Bill asked, "Where's Mabel? Sleepover?"

"Sofa bed in the living room."

"Right."

And then there was silence.

Several minutes passed. Dipper nearly fell back asleep. He heard Bill climbing out of bed and creeping across the room; but the footsteps didn't approach Dipper's bed, so he didn't open his eyes.

A few minutes after that, Dipper heard him come back, walking more heavily. He cracked open an eye to see what Bill was up to.

He was carrying Mabel, who was still asleep; his arms were trembling from her weight, but even at that Dipper hadn't known Bill was that strong. With a quiet grunt, he set her on her bed, then haphazardly tossed her sheet and zodiac blanket over her. He picked up his top hat from the bed and put it on; and then he wandered off, footsteps quiet as a ghost, and Dipper heard the creak of the door as he left the bedroom.

That was a lot nicer than Dipper had expected from Bill. Maybe he did care about Mabel in his own way.

Mabel rolled over and latched on to one of her dolls. Dipper shut his eye and fell back asleep.

####

(My favorite part of writing this was Bill dreaming about Sev'ral Timez saying the most absurdly flowery things imaginable. Anyway, let me know what y'all think about this week's chapter! And reminder that I MIGHT skip next week or the week after because the next couple chapters need heavier editing than usual.)

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Revolutionary Army Punk AU

Ft: Luffy (not punk)

Steampunk is cool but i think just straight up punk would be cooler. I just think what they stand for lines up a lot better

Design notes:

I did some research and talked to a punk friend of mine for these as i am not a punk, myself, and I dont want to look like a poser. I think i did a really good job translating them and i want to explain my thoughts!

Sabo was first, of course.

I not only wanted to make the characters punk, but i also wanted to crank their designs up about 20 notches, so i gave Sabo’s scar one hell of an upgrade. In this version I tried to make it very clear that that cannon ball hit him head-on. I think it works really well with his punk vibes because under-cuts and shaved parts of the head in general are very popular in punk culture.

I largely tried to keep the silhouettes the same with this au, and It was really easy to keep it with Sabo because of the fact that he already has a lot of design elements that translate well to punk. His big pants into tall boots were perfect to translate, crust pants and steel toed boots fits him well. Trench coats arent a staple in Punk, but i couldnt take the coats away from him… him or Belo. They deserve it…

I threw away his cravat for a choker, i replaced his vest with a red tank top and his undershirt for fishnets, Patches up the wazoo, he looks very cool.

Belo Betty was next, she was super easy to translate. She’s already in the punk spirit with her tits out, we love to see it. Her hat was really difficult to translate, along with all the other hats, but a red knitted hat that has those two points cuz it’s essentially a scarf sewed together looks nice on her.

My punk friend suggested i give her a bunch of nets and harnesses and i really agreed that was her style, so i gave her red tie to Morley, slapped some harnesses on her and just overall just turned her sexy up like 50 notches. I think i was clever how i adapted her striped stockings here with how they have runs in them.

Karasu is almost the exact same. I just threw out his dinky little cravat and gave him a bandana and harness. I also gave him piercings. That’s the only difference. In the words of my Punk friend “hes naked and wearing a spiked mask, He can hang”

Speaking of what my punk friend said, he said that Lindbergh would get “demolished” in the pit, and that he looks like he’s scared of bees. The consensus was that he couldn’t hang. But also i still had to make him punk, so then he suggested CBGB punks:

Redneck, bluegrass, southern american punks. I was really in a rut with his design, I didn’t know what to do to keep the silhouette of his backpack. But everything changed when I chance got the idea of a guitar. And then everything flowed from there

Morley was really really fun. Punk friend suggested i make him Pop Punk, inspired by this pic

Mainly Lindsey way with this plaid skirt and tie

He was so so fun to draw, i love his fucked up eyes.

For dragon, i didnt change much at all, even though it’s only his bust that’s shown. Imagine everything is the same, except now he has piercings. Dragon isnt concerned with the punk fashion, but the punk cause.

For Luffy, I wasnt trying to make him punk, but he felt a bit plain looking like base Luffy next to punk Sabo, so i just did the “turn design up 20 notches”, and just gave him a more visibly tattered hat, bangles and waist beads.

That’s about it! Ive been getting a lot of comments and asks lately saying that you guys like when i go on my design explanations, and i realized that i didnt do that for the last few AU’s, so i thought id type this up :)

Thank you for reading!

[lupinsversion]

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 - 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬

• summary: reader forces remus to do a couples costume for a halloween party.

• a/n: okay but remus as beast boy??? also, almost forgot to post today whoops. but starting on nov first, i’m going to slow my posting down due to holidays approaching and i have a trip i need to plan for.

• contains: remus lupin x fem reader, established relationship, fluff, couple costumes, modern au so the costumes will make sense lol

• word count: 1.1k

masterlist || requests

October, the best month of the year for parties in the Gryffindor common room with Halloween right around the corner. Originally this party idea came straight from Sirius and James, and must to Remus’ dislike, she was forcing him into a couples costume.

Now, she tried to keep it simple… at least on his part. Beast Boy and Raven. He wouldn’t need much, just a pair of Sirius’ black jeans that barely fit him, James’ black hoodie with a purple t-shirt thrown over it. But the worst part was trying to get his face painted an olive green color, and spray his hair with some temporary color.

That leads them to now. She already did her makeup and placed the short purple wig perfectly on her head. She wasn’t fully dressed yet, just wearing her fishnet stockings with some random articles of clothing over it until she was ready to put on the rest of her costume. She held Remus’ chin as he sat, brushing some of the color evenly over his face.

Remus sat there, clearly unhappy with the whole situation. He felt absolutely ridiculous and was sure that he looked so dumb with green paint all over his face. James and Sirius were standing nearby, giggling and commenting on how ridiculous he looked, and Remus wasn’t having it. He sighed heavily and shut his eyes as she held his chin. "Did you have to choose Beast Boy?" He whined, slightly grumpy.

“I thought it was fitting.” She teased, a small hint of a smile on her face. “It could’ve been a lot worse.”

"It could have been a lot better too." He continued to whine and complain. His green face was a clear example of how disgruntled he felt, though he was secretly glad to be matched with Raven. The choice could have indeed been worse, but it was still far from his favorite option.

“Oh, shush… and stop moving, I’m almost done.” She grumbled as she continued to spread the green color onto his cheeks.

He grudgingly complied, ceasing his fidgeting and letting her work. He knew that no amount of whining or complaining would be able to change her mind, and he wasn’t really going to protest against her. His eyes scanned her fishnet stockings, admiring the outfit she had chosen.

“Stop being so grumpy, you’re not the only green haired man tonight… look at James.” She commented as Lily was currently spraying James’ messy trenches a brighter shade of green for their matching costumes of Cosmo and Wanda.

He couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle at the sight of James, looking all goofy with bright green hair. "Alright, I suppose it could be worse.” He admitted, finally complying and allowing her to continue painting his face.

“Or you could’ve been Sirius and be barnacle man.” She mused.

Remus grimaced at the thought, shuddering slightly. "Alright, alright, I concede. Beast Boy isn't so bad after all. I'll stop being grumpy, I promise." He chuckled lightly, finally giving in to the whole costume theme.

“Thank you.” She cooed before pecking his lips quickly once she finished.

He smiled softly as she pecked his lips, feeling his annoyance melt away at her light touch. Though he wasn't entirely on board with the costume idea, the simple peck made him realize he just wanted to have a fun night with her and the rest of their friends.

“I’m going to go get dressed, and I swear for the life of me… do not, and I mean do not, mess your look up.”

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "I wasn't going to." He replied with a hint of feigned indignation. "I'll be right here when you get back, just go and get ready." He waved his hand in the air, shooing her away.

She walked towards the bathroom, but not going in without a look that screamed ‘I’m watching you.’

He couldn't help but chuckle at her disapproving look, knowing she was keeping an eye on him. Once she disappeared into the bathroom, Remus shook his head with a small smile. He took one look at himself in the mirror and made a face, still somewhat unsatisfied with his appearance.

“Hey, Prongs, do you think I look stupid?” Remus asked, suddenly concerned about his costume. James looked up from his own green-colored hair and let out a small chuckle. “You look okay, Moony. Just embrace your inner beast.” He responded jokingly, teasingly patting Remus on the head.

James’ cheeky grin did little to alleviate Remus’ concern about his appearance.

But Sirius, ever the prankster, couldn’t resist joining in on the fun. He approached Remus playfully and looked him up and down, pretending to scrutinize his appearance very seriously, with a hint of mocking amusement evident.

“You look like a frog, Moony. A green, frogish beast with no fashion sense,” Sirius declared dramatically, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Remus glared at Sirius before retorting, "Very funny, Padfoot. Thank you for your valuable input."

"Well, you did ask." Sirius grinned wickedly, pretending to be quite pleased with himself.

James, not wanting to be left out of the fun, chimed in with a grin. "I think you look like a broccoli." He teased, unable to resist adding to the banter.

She exited the bathroom then fully dressed, her look complete with a black bodysuit over her fishnet stockings with a belt loosely around her waist, topped with a velvet feeling cape.

Remus' gaze fixed on her, and his breath hitched in his chest as he took in her costume. The black bodysuit and fishnet leggings showed off her curves, and the cape gave her an air of mystery. He swallowed thickly, his eyes wide with appreciation for her stunning look.

The playful banter between the boys ceased as they all turned to look at her, their words momentarily suspended in surprise and admiration. James cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Wow.” He murmured, his gaze fixed on her.

Sirius let out a low whistle, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. "I don't know whether to be impressed or jealous." He chimed in, his usual playfulness laced with genuine intrigue.

Remus couldn't take his eyes off her, still in slight awe of how she managed to look so stunning and mysterious simultaneously. Though the initial skepticism about the costume idea had dissolved, he couldn't deny that she was truly rocking the whole Raven look.

"You look...incredible." He finally found his voice, breaking the silence that had enveloped the group. He felt his lips curving into a smile, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

Sirius, unable to resist a bit of comic relief, suddenly chimed in. With a playful grin, he tapped his knee-length socks and adjusted his eye mask. "Alright, Raven, you might be the mysterious, broody one tonight, but can we talk about how ridiculous I look?" He joked, his tone laced with faux indignity.

Everyone laughed as she gave a sympathetic pat to the side of Sirius’ head.

© lupinsversion 2024

[idyllic-ghost]

hello hello ! for your event, what if rich ceo!wonwoo and sugar baby!reader where he's really into voyeurism (kind of perv wonwoo ??? yes). so he never actually meets reader in person, sometimes he just asks her to go into The Room in his apartment and sends you a list of things he wants you to do- the room is filled with sex toys and similar things for you to use, and he's sitting in the room next to you with a peephole (watching you with your knowledge)

title: the guest room pairing: sugar daddy!wonwoo x sugar baby!reader genre: smut warnings: vouyeurism, exhibitionism, sugar daddy!wonwoo, sugar baby!reader, mentions of a few kinks, degradation, creampie, slight dom/sub dynamics but not explicitly, mutual masturbation wordcount: 1.8k

rating: 18+

a/n: I LIKE YOUR BRAIN ANON!!! I changed it up a little, I hope that's okay!

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mini-event info!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

There's a room in your sugar daddy's apartment dedicated to you. It may look like any other guest bedroom, but you know better. Each time you make your way to his place, your panties are already drenched by the time you get to the elevator. The anticipation of what was going to happen to you in there was enough for your legs to tremble.

It all starts with a message: a time-stamps along with a dresscode. Sometimes your sugar daddy wants you to dress prim and proper, other times he wants you to show up in nothing but a trench coat. The journey to his apartment, the spectacle of it all, is part of the act. He wants you to feel good as you walk in through the door.

He's never home when you get there. You have the place to yourself for the amount time that he has given you - during which you can partake in anything in any rooms you want. What's his is yours. Sometimes you take a shower, sometimes you grab something out of his fridge to eat, and sometimes you just end up watching TV on his giant flat-screen. There's only one rule: you can't start touching yourself until he's there.

When you get his second message, a reminder that he's about to arrive, you make your way through the grand rooms and halls of his apartment, and go into the "guest room". The room is always cleaned up for you, the sheets perfectly laid out on the bed and any mess that you may have left there long forgotten. On the bed, settled in the middle of the room, there's always a note. The note tells you exactly what your sugar daddy wants you to do.

Sometimes he has you edging yourself for hours, other times he wants you to cum as many times as you can in a set amount of time. He has you in all kinds of positions, using all kinds of toys, and saying all kinds of things; sometimes he wants you to call him by his name, Wonwoo, but most of the time he wants you to call him Sir or Mr. Jeon.

Wonwoo's made you do everything that you're comfortable with doing, as per agreement, and has taught you the exhilarating act of knowing when and how to push your boundaries. He's had you dress up in short skirts, screaming out his name while desperately humping his pillow. He's had you spread your legs wide in front of the small peephole in the wall, making you experiment with yourself until you learn how to squirt. He's had you on your hands and knees, sucking off a dildo while a fuck machine was taking you from behind.

Mr. Jeon was nothing short of a depraved man. It was just so exciting.

This time, you have a limited amount of time - he's feeling impatient today. Because of the short notice, Mr. Jeon told you to come in your work clothes - the office attire you had chosen today was luckily flattering; a blouse that had shrunk, just a little, in the wash, and a tight pencil skirt. When in the elevator, you unbutton another button of your shirt - letting your tits almost spill out of your shirt.

Your heels click against the hardwood floor of Wonwoo's apartment, as you quickly make your way to your room. On the bed, as always, lays a little note. This time he wants a slow strip tease, and for you to fuck yourself with a dildo of your choice. Besides it says two words: "Wonwoo" and "degradation". He really was impatient today - you can tell not only from the rushed handwriting, but also from his lack of descriptive detail.

The sound of your phone buzzing, reminding you that Wonwoo will be up in just a few minutes. So, you sit down on the bed - looking straight at the peep hole - and wait to hear the door open. When it does, it doesn't take long for Wonwoo to get into the room beside yours. You don't even have to look at your phone when it buzzes, you know that he's ready now.

"You just wanted to watch me fuck myself today, Wonwoo?" you ask out loud, not expecting a response. "God, you must be desperate."

You unzip your skirt and let it fall to the floor. After stepping out of it, you begin working on the buttons on your shirt. You can hear the faint sound of Wonwoo unzipping his pants, and you smile knowingly. As your shirt slides off your shoulders you turn your back against the peep hole. Effortlessly, you unclip your bra and let it fall to the floor with your other clothes. And as you pull down your sheer tights, along with your underwear - successfully giving him a look at your already glistening pussy - you hear a faint groan from behind the wall.

"What should I pick?" you say to yourself as you walk over to the dresser.

Instead of clothes, when you pull open the drawer all you see are dildos. Silicone of all sizes and colors - but your eyes fall upon the glass one, Wonwoo's favorite. You pick it up, and get a vibrator from a drawer under that one. When you return to the bed, you can already here the sound of Wonwoo slowly tugging at his cock. You get on top of the bed, laying your head against the pillows as your hands roam your body.

"You're such a little freak, Wonwoo." You sigh in pleasure as your finger run over your thighs. "You could be in here with me right now, your head in between my thighs, and you still decide to stay behind that wall."

You pick up the vibrator, and you can hear Wonwoo's pace quicken. Putting the small vibe against you, you turn it up to the highest setting. You'd be lying if you said you weren't getting impatient, too.

"You like watching, hm? You like being a perv?" you mock him, and you can hear him moan at your words. "What? You want to listen while I moan for you? 'Oh, Wonwoo- I wish this was your cock,' is that what you want? You're so pathetic, baby..."

You let out a raw laugh, which turned into a moan as you pressed the vibrator harder against your clit. As your climax was beginning to build up, you remembered Wonwoo's directions. With much reluctance, you let go of the vibrator and picked up the glass dildo.

"I picked this one because I know it's your favorite," you tell him and kiss the cold tip. "You should be happy I spoil you so much."

The dildo comes past your lips and you start lubing it up with your throat. Your free hand crawls down your body to play with your clit, making you moan around the glass cock. When you think it's enough, you pull the dildo out with a pop of your mouth. Rubbing the head over your cunt, spreading around your wetness, you can hear Wonwoo's impatient whines on the other side of the wall.

"I bet you can't even get off if you're not watching me." You moan as you sink the toy inside you. "You're just that addicted to watching my pussy swallow all of your toys, right? You wish this was your dick, don't you?"

Maybe it was just your imagination, but you swear you could hear a breathy "yes" from the other side of the wall. You laugh as you start plunging the toy in and out of you. By the amount of noises he's making, you can tell Wonwoo's close. You pick up the vibrator and press it against your clit again, while never stopping the motion of your dildo.

"Do you want to cum, Wonwoo?" you ask without waiting for a response, "Of course you do, you probably can't think of anything else. I want you to picture cumming in my cunt, baby. Think about how warm I am, how good it would feel to fill this pussy up. Are you picturing it, baby?"

"Fuck, yes!" Wonwoo shouts with a loud moan.

"Well, you'll never fucking- shit-"

Your arms are tired, you had a long day at work, and you just want to be fucked properly. No matter how fun this was, you need him to fuck you.

"Fuck this shit, Wonwoo- get in here, I need you-" you whine, "'m sorry, baby, I need you..."

Within a matter of seconds, your husband breaks the roleplay and all but runs into the room. He's still in his suit from work, his cock pulled out from his unzipped pants. You throw the toys to the side and welcome him in your embrace. Wonwoo's lips immediately starts nipping at your chest, as one of his hands guides his cock to your entrance. When he enters you, you swear that you could cum just from that.

"I'm already close, please, Wonwoo," you whimper.

"I know, baby, I know," he mutters against your skin. "Gonna cum inside you, yeah?"

"Yes, please-" You're cut off by a loud moan as he starts slamming into you.

Wonwoo's hips moves fast and hard, the tip of his fat cock kissing your cervix. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the coil in your stomach snaps, and soon enough you're seeing white as Wonwoo brings you into ecstacy. Your husband's thrusts don't stop until he spills his seed inside of you- filling you up just has you had made him imagine. He falls over you, although he tries to shield you from most of his weight as he holds himself up on his elbows.

"I'm sorry, baby," you mumble as you come out of your daze. "Didn't mean to break character..."

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart." He presses a kiss to your neck. "This was just as fun. There's always next time, hm?"

You hum as he presses a kiss to your cheek before he moves to go get you cleaned up. You lay there for a few minutes, unmoving and in pure bliss, as Wonwoo cleans up your mess. When he's finally done, he lays down beside you - now without his suit - and wraps the sheets around your tangled bodies.

"Text me next time if you're tired," he murmurs against your skin, "This is for you, too, you know?"

"I know." You press a kiss to his lips. "I wanted to do it, I just needed you more."

"Flirt." He grins.

You and your husband has been trying to spice things up in the bedroom - and bondage can only take you so far. The small hole in the wall that the two of you had made on accident while trying to hang up paintings in the, former, guest room had sparked the idea.

"I'll buy you dinner later, what do you want?"

Some parts of your routine isn't roleplay, Wonwoo is never going to give up the chance to spoil you with gifts.

[tommykinard6]

Buddie fans, my loves, come have a seat for a moment.

I want to have a chat, from a long time Buddie lover to you, whether you’re new or have been here a long time.

It’s okay.

I’ve been in the trenches with you. I’ve been pulling for Buck and Eddie to get together for years. I haven’t given up, even as I’ve seen other fans leave because they lost hope. I don’t blame them. The Buddie section of the fandom has been powerful and beautiful and all consuming. We’ve gone seven seasons and up until this point, not one of the two men in question was even confirmed to be queer.

But we all need to take a moment and breathe. That’s it. Stop doom scrolling for a moment and breathe in.

Good. Now hold for a moment.

And breathe out.

I’m going to get real here, alright? And you might not like everything I say and that’s ok.

We need to stop being a problem. Stay with me. I’m not saying we need to stop shipping Eddie and Buck. Far from it. I will love that ship forever. I’m not saying we need to stop our fanfics or fanart or our love for these two. Our feelings are valid. Many of us have been in love with these two for a long time. The Buckley-Diaz family is a strong unit.

Our feelings are valid and we feel what we feel. But our reactions are utterly and entirely our own responsibility.

We need to stop the bullying.

Let’s face it, many Buddie fans have also been long time bullies in the fandom. Particularly in regard to the actresses who have played the female love interests in the past. Don’t get me wrong, aside from maybe Ali, I have disliked every love interest introduced. But have we not yet learned to separate actress from character? If we are going to dislike an actress, let’s do it for a valid reason. Marisol’s actress for example is problematic. But many fans have rained hell down upon any woman introduced.

I’ve noticed this issue for a long time. But now we’re dealing with the issue being even more widespread because of Buck/Tommy. Now fans are bullying each other. The fandom is divided, even in what is probably one of the better seasons we’ve gotten (in my opinion). I need you guys to stay with me here.

Buck is bi.

Let’s say that again. Evan Buckley is bisexual. A major character on a major show on a major network, previously a womanizer and still a very masculine figure, is queer.

This is monumental. This is amazing.

But so many of you are letting your feelings about Buddie get in the way of appreciating the progress we’ve made. Especially with the reintroduction of Tommy Kinard, Buck’s love interest.

Let’s clear up a couple of things, shall we? Tommy Kinard is not Sal DeLuca. He is not Captain Gerrard. While he was part of the old 118 and definitely was in the old boys club, not only is he not the major problem, but in most cases that he’s an asshole, it can be traced back to his own secret. It’s not great, sure. But let’s look at the facts. Chimney is friends and still keeps in touch with him. Hen appears to hold no animosity and was clearly comfortable with him. In Bobby Begins, they all are friends. And clearly, Tommy has undergone a massive self-growth period. You cannot try to back up your point with inaccurate facts.

People can change. People can also be forgiven. It’s the prerogative of those involved. Enough said.

“But TK6,” you may say, “Buck should be with Eddie! Tommy is a plot device!”

Let’s set aside instant gratification culture really quick and talk about storytelling. You cannot get everything you want when you want it. You also cannot have your cake and eat it too. Buck and Eddie, if both queer, were never going to come out at the same time. Do we really want that?! Because identity is messy. Self discovery is messy. Eddie has Catholic guilt. Buck has self esteem/worth issues. Life isn’t a fanfiction. The real possibility of their relationship surviving such a transition isn’t all that high. IF Eddie is canonically queer, he’s going to have a rougher path than Buck has had.

Also, everyone is a plot device. Let’s get real. If a character doesn’t move a plot along, what’s the point? YES, Tommy is there for a storyline. That doesn’t in anyway invalidate his existence or his presence in Buck’s life.

If you want an instant Buddie storyline, visit ao3! There are amazing stories on there.

Now let’s talk about Buck/Tommy, or TEvan.

I am a long time Buddie lover. I also proudly ship TEvan. Yes, those can coexist. I don’t often multiship, but it’s a beautiful thing. I want Buddie to be endgame, sure! But I’m also okay if TEvan lasts. If they end up being endgame, will I be disappointed about Buddie? Of course. I will also be thrilled because Buck and Tommy are a sweet couple and I’m here for it.

As a queer woman, I’m happy that Buck is bi. Multisexual representation is still sorely lacking. Male sexuality that lets a man keep his masculinity while being queer? Even more so. Just take a look at the ao3 tag. Buck is emasculated in many fics. That’s why I stopped reading a lot.

We have a ship here that includes two very masculine men, who are emotionally vulnerable and exploring something new. I understand ship disappointment. But the negativity is wild. We need to stop the bullying. We need to stop the cheating storylines. We need to stop making Tommy into an ab*s*r only because we apparently can’t handle a love interest being a good person.

At the end of the day, these are fictional characters. It’s a fictional show. But these are real people. All of us are sitting here behind our screens with real feelings. We need to stop.

Buddie may one day happen. And maybe they won’t. TEvan might be endgame. They might not be. Tis the way of 9-1-1. It’s exciting, isn’t it? Waiting for something new and exciting. It was starting to get a little stagnant.

As a queer person, I’m not trying to gatekeep anyone. However, we cannot sit here and say “stop queerbaiting us!!!!” (They weren’t, we’ve always had queer representation on 9-1-1) “give us more representation” and then when they give it to us say, “NO! Not that way!”

If it was about the representation, it being Eddie or Tommy would matter a lot less.

So if you are someone using representation to shield yourself, kindly just be honest with yourself and everyone else.

In the words of our Lady and Savior Taylor Swift, “You need to calm down”.

Now, back off into the world of scrolling you go, my lovelies. Remember, keep an open mind and breathe. At the end of the day, it’s a show. But I for one will happily wait for every episode because I’m loving this.

[nigelights]

The History of Nigel

don't know who that voice is on that one voicemail? or who did the 'how many days' intro? i'm here to help! this is a chronological order of appearances made by nigel, links to performances, and things said by tyler about nigel.

Nigel, better known as the 'Skeleton Bones Remain' voice, has been with the band for nearly 14 years now, minus his sudden disappearance after 2020/2021. His first officially documented appearance is in the Regional At Best web series, episode 5. Since then, he's been a large and integral part of the band's live performances, especially during the 'Quiet Is Violent' tour, where we were given more of a backstory to him as a character. physically, nigel is a light that blinks behind tyler during this set, blinking as he speaks.

this next part is talking about a concert where tyler introduces nigel, but we are also given backstory into nigel as a character.

tyler introduces him as 'nigel', saying that in the beginning of the set, they were introduced to the bands host, saying that he lives in a lightbulb. the timeline of nigel as a character during this is quite interesting, its stated that he has been married for 437/133 years, but nigel himself tells us that the music "isnt entirely the music i grew up with back in the day" he then goes on to say that what he grew up with, was anything by DJ Khalid. which is interesting but moving on, tyler uses nigels responses to play bits and pieces of songs, like bugatti, all i do is win. nigel requests tyler to play a song, and tyler says he wrote it for nigel, its the song he said he danced to with his wife at their wedding. the song played was "drunk in love" by beyonce and jay z, transitioning into "cant help falling in love", then into house of gold. this bit was played throughout the tour, the only changing fact being the city name.

i mention this fact because out of all of the lore characters in all of twenty one pilots, minus clancy/blurryface, torchbearer/spookyjim, this is the only character that has a fleshed out backstory thats mentioned, and the only character that makes consistant appearances over four eras. we know more about nigel than we do about the neds.

After the 'Quiet Is Violent' tour, moving into 'Tour De Columbus' and 'Emotional Road Show', is really where his appearances start becoming incredibly consistent. he begins to introduce josh, "hello and welcome to the show", became his signature line. we see this all the way up to bandito tour. where he makes a similar intro but changes it up a bit, "look out baby, its joshua dun!"

halfway through the trench era, a pop-up shop was created for Ned's Bayou, and with it came a phone number, (614)-389-9196, where nigel gives information about the shop in the voicemail, no lore or significance there.

but its the second phone number that popped up in the level of concern ARG, 1-(877)-LVL-CNRN, where we find lore and meaning into his message. "Hello, if you are receiving this message, you are most likely are currently experiencing Levels of Concern. We thank you for your participation and interest. We have hidden codes all around the internet for you to unlock new levels. Each level contain elements that could possess a clue to proceed to the next level. That is, only if you are savvy enough. We guarantee that this game is certainly madness, happiness, paranoia and fun. Good luck. That concludes our session. Thank you, have a pleasant day. ---------- it's hidden in the static."

he is also in the stream that came with the ARG, saying things like "we can help you." and "anxiety, confusion, excitement." "wonderful to see, mesmerizing, there is light if you look caref---" and he speaks out the lyrics to level of concern.

this can be counted as the last official lore-related appearance of nigel, as his only other appearance is in the promo ad for the twenty one pilots burrito. but, many of us hope for his return!

i am more than happy to answer any questions, comments, or concerns with this!! nigel is by far my fav character throughout all of the lore. i hope you enjoyed :)

[spdrvyn]

im begging for miguel x reader where he’s sick/tired/woke up from a nightmare and is in desperate need of shooting. so she takes care of him - pure domestic contentment- grooming him/washing/shaving/brushing hair/towel drying/changing clothes (and socks 🥺)/feeding him - doing everything to relax him and make him feel loved

solace in your sweetness

summary: in the deep trenches of the night, miguel wakes up due to night terrors and you're very deadset on comforting him. no matter how many times he denies you that.

tags: hurt/comfort. very sweet and fluffy. reader isn't a spider-person. fem!reader.

notes: i love this request so so much, i have been ITCHING to do it. thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy reading this one!

Miguel didn't really have nightmares when he was younger. On the occasion that Gabe would bother him to watch a scary movie, there would be instances where he had them, but it wasn't a regular occurence. How naïve was he when he thought that he'd be able to leave those behind in his youth?

It started simple, he would be in the barren, empty streets of Nueva York. Before he would slowly watch every thing dissolve around him, glitch by glitch, pixel by pixel, unable to do anything but to just stand there, before he fell into the abyss and woke up.

The darkest part of his mind had always managed to make the scenario more horrifying, another time it was zombies, another time it was zombies again, but of only Gabriella. There was even a version where he was being chased by the other dead version of himself. He consulted many articles, read and bought a lot of books, and even tried meditating, but none of it worked so he just decided to live with it for a while. It wasn't like they happened every night, no big deal.

Though, it was a big deal to you. Which was his true fear, he didn't want you to fawn over something so trivial. He didn't want you to go out of your way to take care of him, despite how much it would fill the big, gaping hole in his heart.

So when he jolts awake from another night terror, he keeps himself as quiet as possible. He slowly looked over to the side of your bed, relieved to see that you were still in a peaceful sleep. He shifts silently and keeps his footsteps light as he makes his way over to the kitchen for some tea. The calming, minty aroma sweeped his senses, but it'd be better to work right now instead of relax.

He went back to the bedroom, setting the teacup down on the bedside before pulling out a small tablet. He winced as it opened, the brightness of it hurting his eyes even with glasses on. After lowering it, he immediately goes to rifle through his files.

That is until he felt the weight of your head on his shoulders, you looked up at him with a frown. "You're working."

"I am," Miguel spoke like he was caught with a hand in the cookie jar. As embarrassed as he was, it was too late. You should probably be going back to sleep, he remembered that you also had work early tomorrow. "I just got thirsty, go back to sleep, cariño."

A bald-faced lie, would you believe it or would you not? Your brows furrowed and your pout deepened, it made Miguel's palms sweat. Moments like these forced him to think if you really did have superpowers, there were too many instances where it seemed like you read his mind word for word.

"Why are you lying to me, Miguel?" Shock. It was his face, wasn't it? "Did you have any another nightmare? Why didn't you wake me up?"

Miguel's pride had shattered, you were too good at this. A little more and you'd be unmasking every single villain in the city. "You need to be up early, I just didn't want to ruin your beauty sleep." He closed his files and turned off his tablet, this was his fate now.

You all but groaned at his remark, kicking the bedsheets off of your body before stamping out of the bedroom. "Where are you-"

"Stay there, don't move an inch." He didn't want to incur God's wrath, so he obeys. Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the pillows, his smell picked up on the scent of food being freshly cooked. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but by the lord, it smelled delicious.

Miguel was left there to wait for a while, this sort of reminded him of his younger days too, granted a lot more blissful. There were times when he was younger where Gabe had nightmares too, he'd come knocking on Miguel's door, asking if he could stay there for a while or if he could play video games with him.

To which Miguel would begrudgingly agree, but he normally tried to keep Gabe as uninterested in whatever they were doing as possible so that he could fall asleep already. This usually resulted in him falling asleep then Miguel having to sleep on the couch, but it was whatever. I mean, he only stopped doing that at the young age of 11.

So now being the one taken care of, it made Miguel feel like there was an outside force tipping the scales. After being a caretaker, one way or another, his whole life, having you step in and take him for a breather was like seeing a fish head on a lion's body.

You came back soon enough with a plate and spoon in hand, it was made clear to Miguel exactly what you were cooking. Tomato sauce with meatballs, you diced a small bit of the beef with the spoon before scooping some soup up, bringing it close to his mouth. "Ahhh,"

"I can eat on my—"

"Ahhhhh."

"For shock's sake—" he quickly took a bite, his eyes lit up as he swallowed. "It's good."

You smiled knowingly, finally allowing him to feed himself as you handed him the plate. "I know," then your expression hardened. "I'd like to talk to you about what you dreamt about, if that's okay with you." Miguel sighed, reaching over to the bedside to take a long sip of his tea.

His heart told him that it was perfectly fine for you to know about what was troubling him for so long now, but his mind, his rationale, told him to shut his trap about anything that could cause you any sort of worry or distress. When he doesn't respond to you after another moment, you lean in closer.

"Miguel, I'm always going to worry about you." You whispered, "That's just how I am, but it's because I love you. I love you so much that I can feel how much you're hurting even when you're trying to hide it from me."

"I love you too," he closed the gap to press a kiss to the crease on your forehead, you released a short breath. "I just- I don't know how to say it, I guess."

You placed a hand on his chest, "I can put the pieces together, I just want you to get this off your chest." He wished he had the ability to deny you, you're his weakness, especially when you bat your eyelashes and look at him so sweetly like you have all the love in the world to give.

He tells you as much as he can about his dream, it's all a mess. There were many parts that he wished he could just go back and erase, he didn't even want to go through with this idea in the first place. But you were so... understanding of him, it felt creepy. Not creepy, that wasn't the right word, but it was unsettling.

Being comforted by someone else always made Miguel feel like the other person had a 'holier than thou' attitude, that or he was horribly pitied to the point where he didn't want to keep opening up anymore. You carried none of those qualities, you simply nodded, listened in pure silence, but you'd chime in with some remarks every now and again. He doesn't know how he got so lucky with you.

You gave him some advice. Miguel's experiences were gut-wrenching which resulted to his night terrors, but you could share the sentiment. To some degree, at least. The advice was to just talk about it, letting that feeling build over time and dreading the next time you fall asleep would result to more casualties in the long run. And that if he had no other people to turn to, you were the first on his roster (granted he'd talk to you first anyway, but that's besides the point).

After putting away his empty plate, you joined him in bed again, it's probably still very late into the night, only three hours until you get up for work, but you didn't mind as long as you got to spend it with Miguel. However he wishes to.

The feeling of yours lips on his forehead, face nuzzled into his hair while your fingers drew shapes into his back.

The way he wrapped his arms around your hips, slotting one of his legs in between yours, and the sound of your heartbeat.

He falls into a blissful sleep, knowing you will protect him from the horrors that lurk in the shadows. For once in his life, Miguel has been taken care of and he's so glad that it's you.

[aurorialwolf]

so what if i told yall that maybe i had a slightly angsty idea when it came to Sam and Darlin having a kid.. (w/ sams genetics, doesnt have to be genetically darlins) (also the onlyyy part of this that is canon is that Sam's eyes are brown, otherwise im making stuff up)

Sam who anxiously awaits his child's birth, practically pacing a trench into the floor, until the day of delivery, and he finally holds his child in his arms. He's nervous for this new phase of life, but with the support of his partner and the pack, he believes he can overcome any generational problems, ending his family's cycle of abuse.

The baby is healthy, and is growing well. Their eye colour hasn't come in yet, but Sam is hopeful that they'll have his brown eyes, even if it may bring back memories of before his turning.

One day, when his baby has just reached 7 months of age, they're on the couch together, Sam bouncing the baby on his knee and Darlin watching fondly. Then, Sam notices that his baby's eyes look different, and there's a solid colour there, something that must've been coming in gradually for a while. But they aren't brown eyes.

They're bright green, just like his fathers eyes, like his brothers and sisters eyes. His family has had green eyes as a dominant trait for generations, due to a long ancestry of mainly green alleles being present. He was an outlier, as was his grandmother, who also had brown eyes.

But now, all he sees is a reflection of a family he left behind, a family he escaped, a family that haunted his nightmares for years after moving. This doesn't change his love for his child, but every time he looks at them, that's what he remembers.

The kid grows up healthy and happy, and Sam does successfully break the cycle of abuse. They're his spitting image, all except the eyes, and they act like a mix of him and Darlin', reckless, but caring, and kind. They don't remind him of his family anymore, and this is good, as that was a hurdle in Sam's recovery from trauma that he had to overcome.

Eventually, the kids core activates, and they become a Freelancer, making Sam overjoyed, although a bit nervous. It's hard to teach a new Freelancer after so many years without a Freelancer core. He perseveres, and succeeds in teaching the child some small magic, simple elemental command.

He steps back to watch them attempt to mimic his demonstration, only to see a trait he hasn't seen in 28 years; the kids eyes seem to shimmer a brighter green as they focus their magic for the spell. It startles him, reminding him of his brothers eyes before he shocked him with electricity, something he did repeatedly when they were younger, after his brother had unlocked his core. He manages to clamp down any response he might've given, and watches as his child manages to carve a cube from the ground, using only their magic.

They look to him excitedly for approval, their eyes still emitting a faint green glow, and he smiles back warmly, praising them for learning so quickly.

Maybe he really can do this, and be a better parent than either of his parents were to him, despite all the hurdles.

@nevaroonie :D

[ohtobeleah]

You’re just gonna give us only a crumb of Logan and ilya interactions? Just a crumb???? Tell me more please I’m starving! How soon does he realize reader is pregnant? When her belly is slowly swelling? When he notices a hormone change in her body scent?? Is he just conveniently gone on some months long mission and when he’s come back the shop just closed? For a week he hangs outside the shop to hopefully see you come back? Does he spot you one early morning walk toward the shop with keys in hand to unlock the door he’s standing in front of, but he’s more zoned in on this mass attached to your front? Obviously smells like a baby, looks very tiny too, a newborn? He just goes “what’s that?” Mentioning to the sleeping bundle strapped to your chest, and you just bite back “it’s a baby? Have you never seen one in your 200 yrs of life Logan??” And he huffs in annoyance cause that’s not the answer he wants? How soon he ask about the little runt’s name? (Probably just sits beside the little bassinet and just, stares at the seeping baby the whole time)

No stop this is all so 🥹🥹🥹 and I really do need to explain Logan and Readers very complex relationship when it comes to Ilya.

But to be so very brief with it because I’d LOVE to do a full fic on it. But there’s a fight…a big fight that ends in Logan and the reader deciding that whatever it was that they were doing clearly wasn’t going to work out.

And it comes from Logan’s fear of losing the people he loves. He loves you, so much. More than anything and more than he ever thought he was capable of. Which TERRIFIES him. But that’s what starts the fight, Logan’s fear of losing you is enough to push you away so he does have to have you ripped away.

This fight ends with Logan storming off and you crying on your lounge because damn…you were in the trenches with this guy. But it’s a brief four/five days where Logan isn’t around. You don’t hear from him and don’t contact him either.

But then, after Wade smacked some sense into Logan and you had digested everything Logan had said, he comes into the cafe with his metaphorical Wolverine tail between his legs.

A few weeks later and a positive pregnancy test to confirm it, you find out you’re pregnant. You know it’s Logan’s child. You hadn’t slept with anyone else since you met the 200+ man.

But when you’re about to tell him you can see the fear in his eyes still. The fear that kept him up at night. The fear that made it hard for him to say a four letter word.

So you lie: You tell Logan that the child you’re carrying isn’t biologically his. The fear of knowing he was an expecting father may have been enough to drive him away completely. Like a startled bird.

“Remember that fight we had and I said I went to that bar…”

“I remember—“

“Well, I hooked up with someone that night, and uh well—now I’m uh, I’m—“ You can’t find the words, so Logan finds them for you.

“You’re pregnant, I could smell your hormones.” Damn those heightened senses.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ask softly, Logan’s taking this better than you thought he would have.

“Because I wanted you to tell me yourself,” And the silence fills your apartment. “Is he uh, is that guy gonna be in the picture?” Logan asks. He’s not sure he wants anyone to be in your life like that.

“I don’t even have his number—“ You lie again, the man doesn’t exist. “And not to bring it up again because I know it spooks you, but I’m all in with you Logan,” little does Logan know that this baby, the tiny human you’d bring into the world, was always his to begin with.

“If you’ll let me, the Runts gonna need someone around.” And it melts your heart because you know how much that took Logan to even say. “I could be someone to them?”

So through a tight lipped smile you nod.

“I’d like that, I’d like that a lot.”

[hopekreymin]

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 Postal Dude headcanons (from Ao3)

RELATIONSHIP: Postal Dude x Female Reader.

WARNING: Smut, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Body Part Kinks, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Switching, Crossdressing, Name-Calling, Dirty Talk, Light BDSM, Masochism, Orgasm Edging, Choking, Breeding, Loud Sex, Age Difference, Pegging, Biting, Marks, Bondage, Rough Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Premature Ejaculation, Public Sex, Mommy Kink.

• The Dude is one of those people who can get turned on by the most ordinary, simple things. He may not show it, but he actually pays attention to all the details and notices the slightest changes in you. He can spend hours watching you and how you do everyday things, how you clean, cook, wash dishes, comb your hair, paint your nails, read, do your hobbies or just lie lazily on the couch. In the eyes of the Dude, everything you do is beautiful and graceful. He melts when he sees you in his clothes, be it his shirt, robe or trench coat. You just look so cute to him in his clothes. When you write something, he looks at you, enchanted, with that goofy smile, like you just walked out of his dreams. But what turns him on the most is when you straighten your hair and pull it into a ponytail. Then he will certainly have a desire to kiss your entire exposed neck and collarbones.

• The Dude also, despite his outward aloofness and coldness, is actually a very tactile person around you. He almost constantly needs your touch or the opportunity to touch you as if it fuels his life. He often hugs you and just puts his hands on you, enjoying your skin and the way his big, rough palms and fingers feel against you. His touch is always warm, sometimes even hot, and filled with love and passion. He can touch you anywhere and soon you'll be a hot mess. He loves it when you lay your head on his chest, or when he does the same. When you kiss his collarbone or chin, while playing with his goatee, it gives him goosebumps and a pleasant tingling in his spine. He even admitted that he loves to squeeze you as a stress reliever, especially your breasts, thighs and butt. If you want to calm him down, just lie down with your ass up and let his hands do the work.

• Keep in mind that the Dude is a very nasty motherfucker and use it. He will not refuse a single thing that you offer him in bed. Lick your pussy after he cums inside? No problem, just make sure he doesn't gag. A threesome, even with another man? Damn, this will be a fun shake for his bones. He's willing to have sex with you even in public places, and if someone catches you red-handed, he won't be too upset because he enjoys the adrenaline and the potential of being caught. He would even fuck you in a public toilet if he was too horny and there were no better options. He is open to all your secret shameful fantasies, because this way he can satisfy you even more.

• Oddly enough, the Dude is pretty good at eating you out. This means that he can skillfully use his tongue not only to throw insults and witticisms, but also to make you squirm and moan with pleasure. He also loves teasing, so sometimes he uses his teeth on you, although he's careful enough not to hurt you. He will devour your pussy with such appetite as if it was the most delicious dessert of his life. He's really addicted to your taste and texture, so he's often more enthusiastic about eating you out than even you. He drinks in your juices, making loud slurping sounds that make you blush wildly from embarrassment. He will even lick his fingers clean of the residue after your orgasm, looking as if he is a gourmet trying a delicacy and just can’t get enough of it.

• The Dude loves it when he can see the results of your vibrant sex life on your or even his body. The hickeys, scratches, bites and bruises on both of you make him feel like you were truly meant for each other. It’s like a special print, meaning that you are his, and he is yours, and everyone should know about it if they don’t want any trouble. But he is also not against more painful actions. The Dude has had a lot of injuries in his life, after all, this is the same guy who shot himself in the head because of his ex-wife's nagging, so he learned to perceive pain not so sharply, but enjoy it. He is seriously turned on by slaps, even when there is no sexual hint in it. He often either chokes himself or asks you to choke him while jerking off. He enjoys the drive of it, wondering if he can cum before he needs air. The Dude also uses a tight cock ring or clamps on his poor little guy, and also inserts various objects into his urethra. He even asks you to step on his dick.

• The Dude can not only be dominant in bed, but he also likes to submit to you and act more passive, desperate and needy so that you can do whatever you want with him. In fact, he is excited by the idea of his own degradation and humiliation. At such moments, he can finally feel defenseless and weak-willed. He may even wear women's clothing, be it lingerie, short skirts, stockings and garters, or a maid outfit. As soon as he puts one of these on, he turns into a slutty little bitch. In this state of his, you usually switch roles, and you become the one who makes him squirm on the bed and scream your name. You can take the strap-on and do him exactly where you have him.

• He loves dirty talk. He swears a lot and calls everyone names in everyday life, but in bed with you, it’s special. He often calls you a whore, a slut, a bitch, a cocksucker, a cunt, a sissy, a tramp, a cock sleeve, a dirty pig and much more. But after you finish your hot and passionate fucking marathon, he again shows you his kind and caring side. When you are lying on the bed tired and sweaty, he will definitely hug you and call you his sweet, dear kitten, his princess, his sunshine, his sugar bun. After which he will almost carry you in his arms to the shower, and then put you to bed. Or he will fall asleep next to you, without showering, but in your arms.

• Don't forget that even when he fucks you hard, he's still a silly goofball. During his thrusts or blowjob, he can suddenly remember about any random unimportant bullshit, and then just laugh at it. In general, he has a habit of talking during sex. He often jokes and makes sarcastic remarks. Or he can discuss daily tasks and plans with you, like “Who will wash the dishes today, you or me?” or “I think you say it’s your mom’s birthday soon, should I give her some kind of gift?” аnd so on. It irritates you a little, but he can't help it. But you know a great way to shut him up, right? Sit on his face.

• The Dude has one strange entertainment that annoys and bothers you. He has some kind of obsession with your underwear or something like that. You’ve caught him groping your bras, silk nightrobes and panties a couple of dozen times already. Probably one could see the point in this, like, underwear comes into contact with the skin much more and perhaps this reminds him of you when you are not at home. But you didn’t ask him to jerk off and cum on your underwear! You came home one day and walked into your bedroom only to see a Dude literally fucking your bra on the bed with his dick between the pillows and your bra. You have already said that you are tired of washing your clothes several times from his cum, but he still continues to do it, but now your socks and stockings have also been added to his collection.

• At the beginning of your relationship, you agreed with each other that you did not want to get married and have children for the next few years. The Dude supported this idea because he doesn’t see himself as a father, much less a good and responsible father. But maybe he’s not telling you something to the end... He keeps these thoughts secret from you, unlike everything else, because he’s really worried that you’ll think he’s too strange and kinky. He still thought a couple of times about what would happen if you were pregnant. And he definitely wasn't thinking about how hard he would work to support his family, no, his thoughts were more perverted. For some reason, the thought of him getting you accidentally pregnant made him feel hot and heavy. He doesn’t know why and what he even found exciting about pregnancy and whether he needs to visit a psychologist. Although it seems to him that this is all somehow connected with the topic of human breeding, which he accidentally read about in some cheap porn book.

• The Dude is against you calling him Daddy and in general he doesn’t like or relate to this whole theme and aesthetics. He clearly has psychological trauma from his father, so this is a bit of a sore subject for him. In addition, this game of Daddy and Baby girl creates unhealthy and disgusting associations in his damaged brain that he would not want to think about in a relationship with you. But if you want him to call you Mommy, then he will agree to this a little more willingly. Perhaps this is due to the fact that you take care of him, while being the dominant one in the relationship, or the fact that he had almost no mother in his life, so he does not know what it is like.

• If you are wondering about the exact measurements of his cock, it is 4'7 inches (12 cm). Perhaps not as big as many men of his size would like, but he's not complaining. And you too. He knows how to compensate for his size with skills. The skin on his dick is quite thin, which gives you the opportunity to admire the bluish veins on it. When the Dude is very aroused, his cock becomes very sensitive and hot. So he starts moaning at the slightest touch or cool breath of wind on his boner. He could probably cum just from you breathing on it. It's the same with his balls. If you really want to make him cum as quickly as possible, just squeeze or play with his nuts, he will just go crazy with it and go into complete euphoria, after which he will need a few minutes of respite.

[gallusrostromegalus]

So, I am begging you here, pls tell me that Ikkaku and Yumichika are still bffs on this AU. I need the violent miss- and yet perfectly matched bastards to still be forever ride-and-die with each other.

Also, all the dropped tidbits relating to Yumichika are gold and I am hoarding them like a squirrel hoards his nuts for winter.

They are actually, for real, legally married.

Ikkaku was 500% ready to fight the entire Gotei-13 when he took the 628-year old marriage certificate he and Yumichika had gotten in 72 North to the Seireitei Records Office to be honored.

Instead, the sole hiccup in the process was the young lady behind the counter asking him to spell Yumichika's surname for her as this document seems to have been... stained, at some point.

"-That's not... Blood, is it?" She asks, concerned.

"Uh. It's actually. Um. Soy Sauce." Ikkaku mumbles.

It would have been less embarrassing if it had been blood.

Turns out, Gay marriage- and indeed, divorce, or changing your name, or gender, or becoming the third, fourth or seventeenth parent/legal guardian to a kid is a nonissue in soul society, because someone complained *once* and Yamamoto declared that, one, he didn't care, and two, the rest of the military commanders were hired off death row, and *this* is what you're complaining about? Fuck off.

But here are some Yumichika Fun Facts:

Everyone in the 11th division has really, really good personal hygiene and well-cared for hands, feet and nails because Yumichika's mother was a doctor at a rural hospital and put the fear of dysentery, cholera, pneumonia, tetanus, sepsis, trench rot and necrosis into him even more than fear of the gods, and he very much continued this sanitary evangelism.

Yumichika's other mother was a drag queen at the brothel that adjoined the hospital and taught him all about hair, makeup, poisons, manners, alley fights, how to play the shamisen, how to make a knife out of anything, flower arrangement and how to curse the hell out of a motherfucker of it comes to that.

Kubo was wrong Yumichika looks out for all his sisters not just his cis-ters.

Kenpachi was friends with Yumichika before either of the ever knew Ikkaku. He met Yumichika shortly after adopting Yachiru when Yumichika saved him from drowning in the river that ran through his home village.

Kenpachi asked Yumichika what he could do in gratitude for saving his life, and Yumichika, seeing his sword, asked if Kenpachi could "give him a real fight, for once"

They had a jolly little scrap that left Yumichika in the hospital for three months, an almost insatiable lust for battle, and a permanent bald scar on the edge of his eyebrow, which is where he glues the decorative feathers he wears.

It also got him (lovingly) told to move out and make his way in the world.

Yumichika met Ikkaku some years after that, when the theater/brothel he was working at hired Ikkaku on as an Emcee and a comedy act in his own right.

Ikkaku loves making people laugh and is damn good at it.

Yumichika was already considering making a move on him when a heckler pulled a sword on Yumichika during his act and Ikkaku beat the shit out of him with a chair without a second thought, and Yumichika decided he was going to seduce and marry this bald little maniac then and there.

It still took the better part of six months, because Ikkaku was convinced that Yumichika was "Way out of his league" and "He's just being friendly to a coworker!".

Things finally became clear when, having reached a boiling point of sexual frustration, Yumichika challenged Ikkaku to a duel, beat the hell out of Ikkaku with Kujaku, and screamed his feelings directly into Ikkaku's face.

"Oh." Said Ikkaku. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I'VE BEEN SAYING THINGS AND SHOWING YOU THINGS AND SITTING IN YOUR LAP AND KISSING YOU FOR SIX MONTHS YOU FUCKING MORON."

"...I may be stupid."

"At least you're also cute. C'mere you sexy cueball."

-and they have been blissfully if dramatically wedded since.

It was many years after that that they had moved on to a different brothel as a duo floor show act, when they got to talking to some of the other working girls about their travels and Yumichika tells the story of how he got his eyebrow scar saving a real freak of a guy from drowning after he got stabbed by a river stingray, but then he challenged him to a fight because- well, he was young and cocky and a small fish, but in a tiny pond- and promptly got his ass beat.

"That's wild!" Says Ikkaku. "I also challenged a random freak with a stingray scar on his leg to a fight because I was bored and- all due respect to you and Kujaku, my beloved - but he gave me a thrashing the likes of which I'd never had before or since. He had his daughter with him was the weird part- he was a real big bastard, face like a cliff, but his girl was this adorable little pink thing."

Yumichika sits up, frowning. "-seven feet tall in socks, big vertical scar on the right side of his face?" He asked, gesturing to his own.

Ikkaku put his drink down and pointed at Yumichika "-and bells in his hair! You fought Zaraki Kenpachi too??"

"Yes! What the hell?" Yumichika laughed. "I wonder where he is now..."

"Oh Gods, he had the WORST sense of direction! He's probably managed to walk in and back out of the Soul King's palace on accident!" Ikkaku giggled

"Well, if he's the same seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and pink little girl on his shoulder as the seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and the pink little girl on his shoulder standing out in the street looking lost as hell, you can go ask him." Said their coworker Sachiko, pointing to the giant standing not a dozen feet away.

"Look Ken-chan! It's YuYu and Baldy!" Yachiru giggled.

"Yachiru!" Yumichika gasped, delighted.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!" bellowed Ikkaku.

"YOU AGAIN!" Zaraki bellowed, ecstatic. " BEEN A FEW YEARS, LET'S SEE HOW MUCH YOU LEARNED!!"

Ten minutes of incredible violence, twelve minutes of evading the police and twenty-one minutes of getting lost on the way back to the brothel, a bloodied but still standing Yumichika was explaining to the Madame that the giant bastard carrying the unconscious half of her prized floor show duo behind him was, in fact, an old friend of theirs whom she should absolutely hire as a bouncer, you can see how effective he is!

Madame Tsubaki, who recognizes incredible spiritual power and fighting potential when she sees it, and who is still very petty about the divorce from her husband the Shinigami Captain-General, allows herself to be persuaded.

[finniestoncrane]

2.5k Event Request - Nick Valentine x Fem!Reader word count: 810 a/n: i know that whenever a human companion needs to rest, peepaw is right there with them regardless. so please enjoy this dirty little ficlet of nick exploring the joys of the "only one bed" trope cw: somnophilia (so dubcon), fingering, nipple teasing 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

"Any time, detective. You can have me whenever you want."

Your words seemed to echo around the room, far more real than just a memory of that sweet night you'd shared together. They felt real, tangible, as though you were uttering them right then and there.

But you weren't, of course. You were sound asleep, laying beside him, crammed together in the only bed that was left in the shell of the house where you'd stopped for shelter. It was a problem that had only really come up when he'd taken you on as an assistant. Usually, he could rest himself, cool off the motors and reset his brain in solitude. Now he had to make sure there was space for two.

To make matters worse, or better depending on how you looked at it, he found himself feeling responsible for your comfort and safety. That's how it had happened before. Your pleading eyes, practically begging him to curl around you in the bed, to keep you safe, warm. Soft words that turned into laughter, sighs that led to a kiss. And after it all, when he'd thanked you for the attention, you'd uttered those words.

"You can have me whenever you want."

Did that really mean any time? As you shuffled next to him, your back arched, curving to fit the shape of his embrace, he felt himself sighing quietly. You'd seemed so keen to be with him, and while you had both been flirtatious in your professional relationship before, it felt deeper now. Was it a blanket statement of approval, though? Was he really free to have you whenever he desired?

Because right now, with your body at peace, chest rising and falling, minimal clothing to cover your soft, smooth skin, he definitely wanted you.

Of course, there was only one solution. He was a detective, so he would have to investigate, find out what the answer was to that question. And to do that, he would have to do some hands on field work.

Your body was covered, albeit sparsely, by his trench coat, and he lifted the makeshift blanket slowly and carefully, not wanting to rouse you out of your sleep just yet.

His already close proximity lent itself to the careful, almost sneaking way his fingers approached your body, his palm skirting over your hip in a gesture that could easily have been done in his sleep, not romantic or flirtatious at all. But the intention behind it had his bright pupils narrowing in focus as his left hand began to travel to up to your waist, tentatively shifting under the fabric of your shirt, and then around to your front.

The tips of his fingers, pads covered in greying, worn down synthetic skin, traced gently over your nipples, flicking over them slowly. He held his breath as your back arched slightly, your rear pressing into him and your hips splaying a little, giving him easier access to the rest of your body.

His degloved hand eased down the front of your underwear, stopping intermittently as you groaned and shifted beside him. With precision and expertise, the kind you'd watch him utilise to unlock doors and fiddle with his own wiring, the cool metal tips closed softly around your clit, pinching it delicately and rolling it between his skeletal fingers as you let out a soft moan.

For Nick, the most satisfying aspect of the night you had shared together before was seeing your own pleasure, written across your face, your mouth open, panting, whispering his name, and then screaming it. And while you might not be as vocal now, as you somehow still slept next to him, the gentle mumbles of appreciation and the way your breath had changed were enough.

That, and he was detecting a warmer texture than before. All the teasing of your clit had made you so wet, your slick collecting between your folds, spread over them as Nick dipped one of his digits inside of you.

"Mmmm... Nick..."

His name on your lips sounded better than anything else he'd heard before, and his eyes brightened for a moment before he closed them over, keeping it as dark as possible in case you might be disturbed from your sleep.

"Sh, sh, sh..."

He hesitated, but only for a moment, before he leaned in and placed a kiss at the back of your ear, soothing you, lulling you back to sleep. He might have been tempted to wake you up eventually, but where was the fun in that? The case would be solved, but the investigation would be cut short. And that was always the best part for him.

So, once you had settled back down, he kept shushing you, inserting his finger into you, warm and relaxed, and hoped you were at least dreaming of something pleasant, preferably of him.

[chiffxna]

A Love Too Dark (02)

The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Chapter 02: Chaos and Risks

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.

This story will contain 18+ mature themes, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.

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Several hours later, Yn finished her shift and she immediately changed her clothes, ending up with a long trench coat and a casual white T-shirt and jeans underneath. Just as she was about to leave the staff's changing room, she chanced upon Emily and the latter was quick to pull her back into the room to hear some tea. The two of them finally got the chance to talk since they were so preoccupied with their job in the casino.

"Yn! You better tell me exactly what happened with the Marquis!" exclaimed Emily with her eyes wide, glimmering with great curiosity to know more.

Yn chuckled, finding it humorous to see her close friend being this excited about some drama. Instead of answering, she asked, "Have you seen Mr. Malone?"

"Oh, he was looking over the result of the renovation. You know, the big renovation that made this casino shut down for a few hours yesterday," replied Emily. Then she hit Yn lightly on the arm and reprimanded her playfully, "Don't ignore my question! Tell me what happened!"

Yn sighed, knowing that the latter would not let her escape so easily. So she relented and apprised her of what had transpired in the VIP room.

"No way!" vociferated Emily, "That fuckwad is our boss now?!"

"He is our boss now," confirmed Yn.

Emily crossed her arms, looking displeased, "Damn, I don't like that. He sounds like a major asshole for what he said about Amy."

Yn nodded in agreement, "I know. But we can't do anything about it now that the deal is done."

"Yeah but it's a hard pill to swallow," Emily let out a sigh before she gave a burning stare at Yn and asked solemnly, "But... Did he say anything to you?"

Yn stayed quiet and Emily noticed it in an instant. The former did not tell her a single thing about her interaction with the Marquis. She felt embarrassed about what had occurred. She didn't want anyone to know about it. She wanted nothing more than to erase the memory of such a conversation and pretend like it never happened.

Emily could sense that there was something off with Yn's demeanor. She nudged her friend with her elbow and asked softly, "Come on, Yn. You can tell me. What did he do?"

Yn hesitated for a moment before murmuring, "He just…"

Emily was sitting next to Yn, her eyes focused and kind, as she waited for her friend to find the courage to share. The staff's changing room was empty, illuminated only by very few ceiling lamps, casting faint shadows on the walls. There was an air of calm in the quiet space, the only sound being their steady breathing.

After a quick consideration, Yn believed that it would be better not to tell anyone about the eerie interaction she had with the Marquis. She put on a fake smile and shook her head as if pretending that there was nothing to worry about. She then said, "It was nothing, really. All he asked was about the art I gave to Mr. Malone. That's all."

Emily's suspicion didn't wane as she looked at Yn intently. She knew her friend was hiding something but she decided not to push it any further. Instead, she stood up and patted Yn on the back reassuringly.

"Well, I hope that's all it was. Just be careful around him, okay?" Emily said with concern etched on her face.

Yn nodded, feeling grateful for her friend's concern and also for not pushing the subject more. She knew Emily long enough to know that she had a keen perception. But fortunately, she didn't persist and Yn was thankful for that.

"You just finished your shift, right?" asked Emily.

"Yeah, I have to go right now," answered Yn, "I'm worried about my sister at home."

"Oh yeah, you should go on ahead," said Emily, "Say hi to Sydney for me."

"Sure! See you next time, Em!"

As Yn stepped out of the staff's changing room, she felt a sense of relief for not having to disclose to someone about her odd interaction with the Frenchman. Plus, she didn't want to think about her interaction with the Marquis anymore. She just wanted to go home, take a hot shower, and forget about the day's events.

Yn managed to catch the last bus to her apartment, her mind still preoccupied with the events of the day. As she stepped off the bus, she saw her apartment building standing tall and proud in front of her. The building was old and had seen better days, but it was home, and it was where she felt the safest.

She walked up to her apartment and unlocked the door, stepping inside to be greeted by her cat who immediately leaped off of the couch and rushed towards her.

"Rosie!" Yn called for her in a sweet, high-pitched tone, "Where's Sydney?"

The cat reached her and brushed her own body against Yn's leg. She then gazed up at her owner and meowed at her for so long as if reprimanding her for being late.

Without warning, someone appeared in the corridor and walked toward Yn. It was Barbara, a middle-aged woman who was a cousin to Yn and often watched over Sydney when Yn wasn't available.

"Hey, how's your night?" queried Barbara with a grin.

"It was just okay," answered Yn, suddenly remembering the Marquis again when she was asked that. She shook her head, trying to dispel the image in her head, as she spoke, "By the way, thanks for taking care of Sydney for me again."

Barbara shrugged and waved it off, "No problem, Yn. You know I love her. She is easy to handle. Anyway, she's asleep in her bedroom now."

Yn smiled at Barbara and then she fetched her purse and took out several dollars. Yn was about to hand it to her cousin when the latter put up a hand and said, "Yn, don't. How many times have I told you that I did it for free?"

"I'm serious this time, Bar. Take it," said Yn as she pushed the dollars against her cousin's chest.

"No, take it back, sis," persisted Barbara as she grabbed the dollars and pushed them against Yn's hands.

"Please take it, sis," Yn pushed back, "I finished my shift later than usual after all."

"No, no, no," answered Barbara who countered, "I don't mind that at all."

That's when Yn firmly clasped Barbara's hand and smacked the cash into her palm with a loud clap, and insisted, "Just take it!"

As politely as she could, Yn kicked Barbara out of her apartment since the latter seemed like she was seconds away from throwing the cash back at her. Once all had calmed down, Yn chuckled, finding it amusing how the situation played out.

After ensuring that Rosie was well-fed, Yn quietly crept up to Sydney's bedroom. When she peeked inside, her stepsister was fast asleep, her blanket tucked tightly around her and her doll clasped close to her chest. A soft smile curved Yn's mouth, evidently warmed to see her looking well, before she closed the door and walked off.

The next morning, despite not having enough sleep due to Yn finishing her shift at the casino at two in the morning, woke up early and began to prepare breakfast for both her and Sydney.

"Yn! Morning!" greeted Sydney who had just woken up and entered the kitchen to see Yn preparing sandwiches.

"Good morning, Syd. Did you sleep well?" Yn asked, turning to face her stepsister with a smile.

Sydney nodded, "Yes! I dreamt that Peter Pan flew me out to Neverland! I flew in the sky, Yn!"

"Aww, that's amazing!" Yn replied as she finished preparing the sandwiches, "There. Now come, let's take a shower. We better hurry up for your school!"

Sydney jumped up and down with excitement and followed Yn to the bathroom, chattering on and on about her dream.

After they showered, got dressed, and had breakfast, Yn walked Sydney to school, holding her hand tightly the whole way. It took them ten minutes to arrive at her preschool.

Upon entering the school gate, Yn crouched down in front of Sydney and adjusted her clothing before saying with the same eye level as the young girl, "Alright, Syd. Be careful, okay? Don't be a mess and don't be naughty. Don't run around."

"Okay, Yn," replied Sydney, "Will you be back home early?"

Yn went quiet, staring at the little girl before her and perceiving the longing in her eyes. Yn did not tell anyone about her job as a bunny-girl in the casino. No one in her family knew, including Barbara. Such a job would stagger them all, especially her sick mom who would undoubtedly feel guilty for causing her daughter to work like that.

The pay as the bunny-girl in the casino was surprisingly tremendous and she got tips from the customers daily, despite having worn the mask the whole time. It helped her a lot in saving up enough money for her mother's treatment in the hospital. But the downside was that she had to return home past midnight. She couldn't spend much time with Sydney and the little girl evidently began to feel lonely despite being accompanied by Barbara.

Yn wished she could rest and be with Sydney, but the job at the casino provided her with an essential financial grounding. She needed it to survive, yet it left her feeling guilty for not spending enough time with her stepsister.

But with the way things were going, Yn knew it would take a while before she could finish paying the overall bill for her mother's medication. It pained her to think of deceiving Sydney, but she couldn't bear the thought of not being able to provide for her family. She felt emotionally torn and in the end, she knew her decision remained the same.

"I'll try to be back as soon as I can, okay?" Yn finally answered, brushing Sydney's hair away from her face, "But if I'm not, Barbara will be there."

Sydney pouted her lips in dejection and nodded, her eyes still pleading for Yn to come back early. But Yn merely frowned ruefully, knowing she had to go to the casino again tonight, just like every night, to earn the money she needed for her mother's treatments.

As Sydney walked into the school building, Yn stood outside, watching her step-sister disappear out of sight. She couldn't help but feel another pang of guilt for having to disappoint her stepsister like that. But she had to stay strong for her family. Everything was riding on her shoulder.

As she turned and waited for a bus, Yn couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. She was tired of deceiving her family, tired of returning home late past midnight, and tired of carrying the burden all by herself. But she reminded herself that she was doing it all for her mother. That thought alone gave her the strength to keep going.

In only a fraction of an hour, she had alighted from the bus and walked toward the cafe. Here, she was working a morning shift, since taking two jobs in one day was required for her to make enough money to stay afloat and pay her mother's medical expenses.

Yn made her way inside the building, her eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. There were only a few customers present at the moment, and she could see her co-workers bustling around in the kitchen and behind the counter.

After greeting her fellow coworkers, she made her way to the back of the cafe where the employees kept their belongings. She stripped off her coat and hung it up and wore the cafe company's apron over her casual clothing.

As Yn made her way to her assigned station, she couldn't help but feel a sense of numbness wash over her. She had been working non-stop for weeks and the exhaustion was starting to take its toll.

The day started busy as the morning rush began. She busied herself with serving the customers as a waitress, wiping down tables, and filling up condiment containers. She had been working as a waitress for a while now and she could say she was good at it. She was familiar with all the regular customers and knew exactly how they liked their coffee.

Eventually, the morning rush ended and the flow of customers coming in and out of the cafe since then had been slow. Yn's mind started to wander, thinking about her mother's treatments and the mounting bills that needed to be paid, feeling the weight of the responsibility on her shoulders.

As she was lost in thought, Yn felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see Edric, one of her coworkers standing behind her. Edric had always had a crush on her and despite her polite rejections, he continued to care for her at work. She was grateful for his worry, but she didn't want to give him false hope.

"Hey, Yn. You okay?" Edric asked with a concerned look on his face.

Yn forced a smile, "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little tired, that's all."

Edric nodded, "Why don't you take a break? I'll cover for you."

Yn was hesitant. She was about to deny the offer when she remembered that she had another shift that night. She didn't get enough sleep too. So this offer was an opportunity for her to rest and have some shut-eye. She finally nodded to him, "Thanks, Edric. Tell me when the boss comes back, okay?"

Edric chuckled, "Trust me. Big boss won't come back anytime today. He is with his mistress in Thailand."

She walked to the back of the cafe and sat down on a chair. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

But as she sat there in silence, finally resting up her mind, body, and spirit, she took the time to encourage herself. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she was willing to do whatever it takes to provide for her family. Plus, she was close to collecting the overall payment of her mother's treatment bills. She was so close. All she had to do was endure for one or two months.

As she sat there, she couldn't help but let her thoughts drift to the possibility of a better life. What if she didn't have to work herself to the bone every day? What if she had someone to lean on? Someone to share the burden with? Someone who could provide for her and her family?

That's when the face of a certain Frenchman entered her mind.

She laughed at herself for considering such an idea, as she must have been quite tired. Plus, the Marquis de Gramont appeared to be arrogant and unapproachable. It would have been a disaster to pair with someone like him. Yn was thankful that it was only a fleeting thought.

Once she had enough rest, she went outside to clock in for the day and complete her job until her shift was over. With a friendly farewell to her coworkers, she then left the cafe and hopped on a bus bound for Sydney's preschool to pick her up.

As she stepped off the bus, Yn spotted Sydney playing with the other kids in the playground. The little girl's face lit up as soon as she saw her big sister walking towards her and she immediately rushed off. With a big smile, Yn held her hand and asked, "Hey, Syd. Do you want to visit mom in the hospital?"

"Yes, I want!" enthused Sydney.

Yn smiled, happy to see her sister excited. She knew that visiting their mother would lift their spirits and give them the strength they needed to keep going.

Together, they made their way to the hospital. Yn held Sydney's hand tightly, guiding her through the busy corridors until they reached their mother's room. Their mother looked weak and frail, but her eyes lit up when she saw her daughters. Yn took a seat beside her mother while Sydney sat down on the bed next to her mother's thigh.

"Mom!" crowed Sydney, "Are you okay, mom?"

Their mother beamed radiantly and nodded, "I'm as okay as I can be."

"How are you feeling, Mom?" Yn asked, concern etched on her face.

"I'm okay, dear. Just a little bored of staying in bed for so long," her mother replied, "I bet I couldn't feel my legs if I ever get out of this bed."

"Why can't you get out of bed, mom?" asked Sydney.

Their mom leaned forward to gently comb the little girl's hair with her fingers, "Because I need to rest, my dearie. Anyway, how's school?"

Sydney's face lit up at the mention of school, "It's great, mom! We learned about space today. Did you know that there are billions of stars in the universe?"

Their mother smiled, happy to see her daughter's enthusiasm for learning, "That's amazing, sweetie. How many planets are there?"

Yn smiled at the exchange between her mother and sister, grateful for the moment of joy amidst the hardships. Sydney chattered away about her day as her mother listened with a smile. Yn watched them both with a sense of bittersweet longing, knowing that their time together in the hospital was limited. But she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment, enjoying the simple joy of being together with her family.

"Oh, but Yn," her mom suddenly addressed her, "Why do you look so tired? You got them bags under your eyes."

A fake smile etched Yn's lips as she replied, "It's nothing, mom."

Her mom's face was filled with worry and concern as a small frown creased her forehead. She could tell that her daughter was exhausted. It was obvious. She could even feel the exhaustion radiating from Yn. The latter did apprise her about having two jobs daily. She knew her job as a waitress in a cafe, but she was clueless about her night shift. It was a mystery to her - one that Yn refused to tell her till now.

"Yn, there's something you're not telling me. Please, tell me what's going on," her mother urged with a gentle tone.

Sydney's mood fell as she observed the two grown women conversing. Yn averted her gaze from her mother and said with a fake facade, "I'm just tired, mom. But I'm so close to collecting the full payment of your medical bills, mom. I just have to endure this for one or two months."

"That's great and all but please don't do anything degrading because of me," said the mother, "It would kill me."

"Then you have nothing to worry about," smiled Yn and this time it was genuine, "I found a job with a night shift that doesn't make me do bad stuff. All I have to do is just be a waitress for the night. It'll be okay, mom."

Her mother sighed, "Okay then. You can skip a day or two to get enough rest too. Don't overwork yourself."

Yn's smile nearly reached her eyes, and her nodding was subtle but sure. Her mother watched her quietly for a moment, perceiving the stubborn look on Yn's face that showed she would not rest until she had collected enough money to pay off the hospital bills.

Then her mother suddenly spoke, "If only there is a rich man who loves you and could provide for you. You wouldn't have to work two jobs and tire yourself out like this."

Yn was taken aback to hear her mother bring up a subject like this. Immediately, the tall frame and face of the Marquis de Gramont resounded in her mind. She bashfully glanced away and chuckled to herself in incredulity as it was quite a coincidence that she had met one of the wealthiest men in France just the night before and now her mother was talking about finding someone like that.

Yn chuckled, "Mom, I can take care of myself and you two just fine. And love doesn't just come from money."

"I know that, dear," her mother replied with a smile, "I just want you to be happy and not have to work so hard."

Yn nodded, appreciating her mother's concern. She knew that her mother only wanted the best for her, but finding a rich man to take care of her wasn't exactly a priority. Her focus was on taking care of her family and making sure they were okay.

"I'll be okay, Mom. Don't worry," Yn reassured her mother with a small smile.

As the visit came to an end, Yn and Sydney hugged their mother tightly and promised to visit again soon. The both of them then made their way out of the hospital, hand in hand, and boarded a bus together to their apartment.

Once inside the apartment, Rosie greeted them with a pur. Yn checked the wall clock and realized she had two hours left to prepare before her night shift at the casino at eight o'clock in the evening. She had to call up Barbara again to take care of Sydney who was eating the donuts Yn brought from the cafe she worked the morning shift at.

She headed to her bedroom and shut the door, not wanting the little girl to overhear her. She then made the call and informed Barbara about the situation and needed her help once more. Barbara agreed to babysit Sydney again and would come by in a matter of minutes. With their conversation done, Yn went to her room to change and get ready for her night shift.

Yn was finally dressed and ready to leave in her long trench coat, but she decided to stay for a little while longer and watched a movie with Sydney. When Barbara showed up, Yn kissed Sydney on the forehead as a farewell and left, trying to ignore the guilt that bubbled up inside her upon seeing Sydney's despondent face at being babysat again.

As she entered the casino, Yn felt a sense of familiarity wash over her. She had been working there for months now, and it was her only source of income, apart from the café job. The casino was bustling with activity and she could hear the sound of slot machines in the background.

She went straight for the staff's changing room and met with her fellow bunny-girls. All of them seemed chaotic. More murmurs and chatters filled the room than usual. Just as Yn reached her makeup table, Emily rushed towards her and said, "Oh my God, Yn! Everyone knows now!"

"Know what?" quizzed Yn with wide eyes in curiosity and puzzlement.

"About the Marquis being our owner," Emily took a deep breath as if she had run a marathon to get to her makeup table, "Mr. Malone told some of us to be fast and gather at the lobby so we have to get ready early. He hasn't told us but the staff have already heard about the rumors."

Yn was probably the first person to know about that so she wasn't all that surprised. Though, she hadn't known about another assembly soon so she hurriedly started her skincare routine and makeup. Emily once again helped her by hanging her bunny costume next to her table.

Once their makeup and hair were done, Yn and the other bunny-girls headed out to the lobby to meet with Mr. Malone and the other staff members such as the bouncers, the kitchen staffs, and the cleaning service staffs. The lobby was already packed with customers since the casino had never closed since Yn finished her shift. As she advanced towards Mr. Malone, who was already standing there awaiting them, the woman couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive.

"Alright," Mr. Malone began, "Good evening, everyone."

"Good evening," chorused the rest of the staffs.

"I have very exciting news for all of you," he stated with a beam, "Some of you may have heard it. Well, let me say this. It's all true. From now on, the Marquis de Gramont from France will be our owner and I will remain as the managing director. He will bring our casino to a whole new level with his resources and influence."

Some of the staffs glanced at one another, each one having their own opinion about having a new boss or having a question such as what kind of person he was. Mr. Malone continued, surveying the reaction of the employees, "I know some of you may have reservations or questions, but I assure you that he is a great man who cares for those under him. He has even given me a huge amount of money to be distributed to each and every one of you as a bonus."

There were gasps and cheers from the staff as they heard about the bonus. An applause resounded throughout the casino as they all were evidently jubilant upon hearing it. Yn also felt relieved about the bonus she's getting as she would need it so much for her mother's hospital bills.

"Also," added Mr. Malone, "One more thing. The VIP room will no longer be open to anyone. The Marquis wants to turn it into his office. Well, because..."

"Because I like the room."

A male voice, thick with a French accent, suddenly enacted from behind all of the staffs. All eyes were thrown in that direction and those who knew him were astounded to see it was the Marquis de Gramont in the flesh, striding towards them from the entrance door with his hands in his pants pocket. His bodyguard was following behind him. He was donning a three-piece suit again; this time the suit jacket was sparkly black, the waistcoat was black with glinting checkered texture, and his tie and shirt were both gray.

He was obviously the tallest person among them all as he reached them and stood behind the employees. He continued speaking, "And... the abstract painting inside it is what I want to see every day."

Yn couldn't help but be mesmerized by his striking appearance, admiring how the suit hugged his body in all the right places. Apparently, the others were feeling the same way too as they were nonplussed to see him among them. He stood out the most, even among the rich patrons of the casino.

"Sir!" Mr. Malone was startled as well upon seeing him, "I didn't know you were here already. You told me you would be late tonight."

The Marquis started advancing forward and the employees began to part a path for him like the Red Sea for Moses. With his hands in his pockets, he proceeded to the front, moving towards Mr. Malone when suddenly, his gaze shifted to the side and looked straight at Yn. He did not even scan through the staffs and look for her. It's as if he knew where exactly she was. It's like he had already looked for her beforehand.

Yn's heart skipped a beat as the Marquis's eyes met hers. She suddenly felt self-conscious in her revealing bunny costume. The Marquis' gaze was intense, almost as if he could see right through her. His eyes were an icy green, framed by dark lashes that made them appear even more piercing than usual. His expression was unreadable yet powerful. She felt as though he could see right through her as if he knew every thought that ran through her mind.

The Marquis' gaze lingered on her for a moment before he cast his eyes away and addressed Mr. Malone while striding at a slow pace towards him, "I did. But I finished it up as soon as possible to attend your assembly."

Mr. Malone coughed nervously, "Glad to hear it, sir. I was just telling the staff about you. It's great that you could make it here."

The Marquis stood next to Mr. Malone, facing the staffs around them, and said, "Of course. I would hate to miss this. Good evening."

"Good evening," all of the staffs answered back simultaneously.

"A pleasure to meet all of you," the Marquis said, his voice was spoken slowly yet with great charisma and smoothness that attracted everyone's attention. His French accent was thick as he added, "I am excited to work alongside all of you. I have a vision for this establishment, and I believe that together we can accomplish great things."

Yn couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine as the Marquis's gaze swept over her once more. There was something about him that made her feel nervous and intimidated.

"Great!" Mr. Malone spoke up, "Now, allow me to introduce each of the staff to you, sir."

As the Marquis and Mr. Malone walked around and got to know the workers, Yn observed how the bunny-girls behaved towards them as they were being introduced to the Frenchman.

"This is Sabrina, one of our most popular bunny-girls here," said Mr. Malone, gesturing to the busty lady in a bunny costume as he and the Marquis moved along the staffs' line.

Sabrina smiled flirtatiously and extended one hand out towards the Marquis, "I'm Sabrina. It's a pleasure to meet you, monsieur beau."

The Marquis raised an eyebrow, even glancing at her hand for a second or two, before taking her hand. His other hand was placed inside his pants pocket. The two of them exchanged handshakes and he replied with a smile, "Likewise."

The Marquis and Mr. Malone then moved to the next bunny-girl and the managing director spoke up, "This is Rachel. She is a very quiet girl."

Just like how he did with the other staffs, the Marquis shook hands again with Rachel who refused to make eye contact with him. His free left hand was still hidden in his pocket. The same thing happened to the other employees until both of them finally reached Yn.

Once the two of them stood before Yn, Mr. Malone began, "And this is-"

"Yn Ln," the Marquis uttered her full name out of the blue, cutting off Mr. Malone. The Marquis took a step closer to Yn and said with a cunning smile as he looked down at her, "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"It's nice to meet you too, sir," replied the anxious Yn as she grasped his hand which was reaching out to her. She then shook hands with the Frenchman, ignoring the way his hand felt huge against hers.

Suddenly, his free left hand was brought out of his pocket and he placed it atop Yn's hand which was still shaking with his right one. Both of his hands were covering hers and it filled her skin with warmth which she was uncertain if she liked it or not. His action caught her off guard and baffled her as he didn't do this to anyone before her. It seemed extra and unnecessary.

She felt every burning eye on them, watching their interaction. That made her feel all the more insecure. She didn't want to attract any attention, but the Marquis made it impossible. For a second she thought about running away to hide but she knew that would make her seem all the more embarrassing.

The Marquis' smirk widened as he kept a watchful stare on her. His fingers, which were on top of the back of her hand, then gave a few pats to her skin and he nodded at her while saying, "Let's work together."

Yn nodded her head with uncertainty, "Yeah..."

The Marquis' smile widened in satisfaction before he let her hand go. With a last piercing stare at her, the Marquis walked to the next bunny-girl and Mr. Malone introduced Emily to him. This time, the Frenchman shook hands with her normally, with his other hand hidden in his pocket.

As the Marquis continued to get to know the casino workers personally, Yn observed him quietly. She couldn't shake off the strange feeling that he gave her. There was something about him, something dark and mysterious that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She watched him move through the crowd with ease, his confidence and charisma drawing everyone towards him.

"Where's Amelia?" asked Sophia to the bunny-girls nearby.

"She texted me," answered Emma, "She said she's going to take a break today."

Emily spoke up, "Does she know about the Marquis being our owner now?"

"Yes, and she was so shocked she burnt herself while cooking," clarified Emma, "We were calling when I told her about it."

The Marquis and Mr. Malone then stood on the previous spot after having the former get to know the employees personally. The Marquis put on a friendly smile and said, "Thank you, everyone, for the warm welcome. I can tell that this is going to be a successful collaboration between us."

The staff members all smiled and nodded, some more enthusiastic than others. Yn couldn't help but feel a wave of anxiety wash over her as she realized that the Marquis would be her new boss - and she didn't know anything about him.

"Is there anything else you would like to do, sir?" asked Mr. Malone, "Before I dismiss them?"

"No, that would be all," replied the Marquis.

"Very well," Mr. Malone then turned to the employees and announced, "You heard him, everyone. You are dismissed. Now, chop chop! Give them two hundred percent! And don't forget your mask, ladies."

The staff members of the casino dispersed in an instant, each one headed straight for their station or their next task. Yn immediately walked off to grab a mask for herself. She had just put on a mask when Emily grabbed her arm and inquired her with wide eyes full of curiosity, "Hey, what was that about?"

Yn knew what she was implying but she still asked, "What was what?"

"You and the Marquis," pointed out Emily. Her black eyes looked deep into Yn's eyes as the former said, "The way he talked with you was so different."

"Em," Yn answered, "It was nothing. He was just being friendly."

Emily retaliated, "Being friendly is not like that! You know that trend on Tiktalk with the words, 'Stop looking at me with those eyes'? That's how he looked at you!"

"That's absurd," responded Yn as she walked towards the roulette table to tend to it, seeing the customers were already flocking around it.

"No, I saw it!" pressed Emily, "He was practically undressing you with his eyes!"

Yn couldn't deny the shiver that ran down her spine at the thought, but she brushed it off and focused on her job. She had to put the Marquis out of her mind as it was time for work.

She greeted the customers politely, even smiling although her mouth was concealed by the black mask she was donning, and announced she would be the dealer of the roulette table. Once the customers had placed their bets and chips, she began spinning the roulette wheel, calling out the numbers as they landed.

At one point, she had to wait for a customer to count his remaining chips and she looked around the casino, noting the busy yet fun atmosphere around them as the patrons gambled their savings away. That was when her eyes landed on the door of the VIP room.

The Marquis de Gramont stood tall and imposing with an air of authority and power as he commanded several foreign workers renovating the room as his office. She could see the paintings being brought in, framed in ornate gold frames, ready to be hung on the wall. He stood there silently, observing the workers around him as they went about their work. Then he chanced a glance in her direction and stared directly at her.

His gaze was intense, almost as if she was a painting and he was studying her from afar. She quickly tore her eyes away and resumed dealing with the game, trying to ignore the burning sensation in her cheeks. She could feel the Marquis' gaze on her, watching her every move. She tried to ignore it, but it was impossible.

As the night progressed, more customers came in, and Yn found herself getting busier by the minute. She barely had time to take a break, and when she did, it was only for a few minutes to catch her breath and drink some water.

After a few hours of work, Yn's shift ended. She was exhausted and eager to go home. Still in her revealing bunny costume and donning a black mask over her nose and mouth, she headed towards the staff's changing room when she realized there was a certain, noticeable change in her pathway.

A massive abstract painting hung on the wall of the open hallway leading to the changing room, easily visible from the main hall of the casino. Some of the patrons stood and chatted in front of it. The people around the painting whispered in awe and admiration, their hushed tones muffled by the sound of slot machines and other games in the casino.

Yn slowed down to a stop in front of the abstract art. With a pair of wide eyes of surprise, she stared up at the painting. Her entire body was facing it as she quietly admired it, mesmerized by the colors and shapes that seemed to dance before her eyes. As she stood there, she felt a presence behind her and turned to see the Marquis de Gramont standing tall, his eyes locked on her.

"Caught your eye?" he said, his voice low and smooth.

"Yeah..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

That's when the Marquis moved from behind Yn, slowly circling her and scanning her up close with his eyes. His eyes were unblinking as he slowly walked around her in a slow, counter-clockwise circle. He moved gracefully and with purpose, like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze seemed to be studying her from all angles as if she was a prized possession.

Yn felt on edge as his eyes scanned her upside down and could almost feel the intensity of his gaze as if she was an art piece admired by him. His presence felt oppressive and overwhelming, and it was at that moment she truly felt what Emily had told her.

"He was practically undressing you with his eyes!"

"I bought it hours ago from a very talented artist," the Marquis said as he was still circling around her. His heavy French accent added a touch of sophistication to his words.

At some point, he tore his gaze away from Yn. His eyes became dark and cold as he glanced at the men nearby. His stare was ominous and serious, radiating an aura of power that commanded respect and screamed murder as if he was wordlessly telling them to scram. His presence was intimidating and oppressive and it made Yn feel smothered despite how huge the space was.

With his dark eyes locked on the people surrounding them, he continued speaking to the lady he ensnared and circled around on, "It represents the chaos and unpredictability of life. I find it quite fitting for a casino."

As Yn absorbed the Marquis's words, she couldn't help but feel a chill creep up her spine. The juxtaposition of his suave demeanor and the underlying sense of danger in his presence left her feeling trapped, like prey caught in a predator's snare.

Yn's voice trembled slightly as she responded with uncertainty, "It does look... nice..."

The Marquis's lips curled into a subtle, knowing smile as he glanced back at Yn, still circling around her leisurely and invading her personal space.

His voice, still low and smooth, resonated in her ears like a whisper laced with hidden intentions, "Yes, chaos has a certain charm, wouldn't you say? It pulls people in and seduces them with its tempting nature. And in this building of gamblers and dreamers, chaos reigns supreme."

Yn felt a surge of unease ripple through her as the Marquis' words echoed in her mind. There was something unnerving about what he said. It's as if he was hinting at something to her. Something so obvious to him yet so obscure to her. If she pondered about it so simply, only one thing crossed her mind. And it's downright sinful and filthy. There’s no way he was implying that, she thought.

As Yn stood there, enveloped in the Marquis' aura, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was far more to him than met the eye. The art, the chaos, the intensity of his gaze - all seemed to be pieces of a larger puzzle, one she wasn't sure she was ready to unravel.

While circling her and arriving behind her, the Marquis leaned in even closer to Yn, his hot breath tickling the back of her neck. She could feel his body heat radiating off of him, and her heart raced as his lips brushed against her ear.

"Tell me, ma lapine," he whispered as he looked from her seductive bunny costume to her eyes, "Do you like to take risks?"

Yn's heart pounded in her chest. She did not understand what 'ma lapine' meant. Her voice was barely audible as she responded, "I don’t..."

Her response hung in the air, her voice filled with trepidation. The Marquis pulled back slightly, his intense gaze still fixed on her.

"Don't what?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

Yn hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. She felt trapped in the Marquis' web of intrigue, unsure of his intentions and the risks that lay ahead. Taking a deep breath, she mustered her courage and decided to respond honestly.

"I don't know if I like to take risks," Yn admitted, her voice wavering. "I've always been cautious."

The Marquis, just arriving in front of her while circling, regarded her for a moment, his expression inscrutable. Then, a small smile played at the corners of his lips.

"I can see you like to play it safe. But it can be tiresome," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief. "Sometimes, the most exhilarating moments in life come when we dare to step out of our comfort zones."

Yn stayed quiet, knowing that he was somewhat right, but she could not find it in herself to take any risk. Not when the consequence of her failure may result in her mother’s fall to her illness. No. She had to remain cautious, even if she was so close to earning enough money for the full payment for her mother’s medical treatment.

Yn responded, her voice clearly laced with wariness, "But it's also important to consider the consequences.”

The Marquis chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Ah, consequences," he mused, his voice carrying a note of intrigue. "They are indeed part of the equation. But sometimes, the rewards outweigh the risks. It all depends on how far you're willing to go."

He stopped his circle around Yn and stood beside her. He inched closer to her and whispered, “Don’t worry. I will help you know the pleasure of taking a risk.”

That was when she felt warm skin touch her back. She did not have to look to know it was the Marquis’ hand. He slowly moved the aforementioned limb to her waist and grasped it, sensing that his hand fit there perfectly. The Marquis chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that sent shivers down Yn's spine.

"Tonight is the perfect night to find out," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Yn's eyes gradually widened in terror as she registered his words. She took a step away from him, feeling a surge of fear coursing through her veins, and his hand was released from her waist. At that moment, she felt a deep sense of unease and danger. She was now certain that the Marquis de Gramont's intentions were far from innocent, and she realized she had unknowingly stumbled into a precarious situation.

Fear gripped Yn as she realized she was alone with this mysterious man in a secluded open hallway of the casino. The art viewers surrounding them moments ago had disappeared without her notice. She glanced around, hoping to find an escape route or someone who could help her, but the casino seemed to be engulfed in its own world of oblivious gamblers.

Knowing that she had to do something to save herself, Yn mustered her strength and replied, her voice shaky but determined, "I... I'm sorry, but I have to go."

The Marquis smirked as if he found her denial funny, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something far more lustful and sinister. His voice was laced with a subtle threat as he said, "Oh, but the night is young."

Yn's instincts screamed at her to leave, to escape from this unsettling encounter. She glanced around, searching for an exit, but the Marquis positioned himself between her and the nearest door. Panic began to take hold as she realized the gravity of her situation.

"Please, I need to go," she said, her voice a tad stronger now, though it trembled slightly.

Not waiting for any response, Yn swiftly sidestepped the Marquis and briskly walked away, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't shake off the feeling of his eyes burning into her back as she hurried towards the staff's changing room.

Just as she opened the door, the Marquis' voice, thick with his French accent, spoke up, "Cherish this moment, ma lapine. It may be the last time you can escape."

Yn's hand froze on the doorknob, and she slowly turned her head to look back at the Marquis. He was standing with his whole body facing her, his hands on his hips, exuding an aura of ominous confidence as if he knew everything would go his way eventually. His gaze pierced through her, and a chill ran down her spine. She could sense a dark and malevolent undertone in his words as if he was hinting at something far more sinister than she could comprehend.

Without uttering another word, Yn quickly entered the changing room and closed the door behind her. Once safely inside, she locked the door behind her and leaned against it, her breathing heavy and rapid. She was relieved that the room was devoid of anyone. The encounter had left her shaken and wary, but she knew she needed to act fast.

Yn quickly changed out of her bunny costume, discarding it and the black mask. She retrieved her belongings and decided it was best to leave the casino immediately. As she stepped out onto the bustling streets, she couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, as if the Marquis's intense gaze was still fixed upon her.

Determined to put the encounter behind her, Yn hastened her steps to make it back home. She hopped onto the bus that she normally took and plopped down on one of its seats. Despite her efforts, thoughts of her earlier encounter with the Marquis de Gramont filled her mind: his piercing gaze and sinister words refused to go away. To take her mind off things, Yn shifted her gaze out the window where the city lights streaked past in a colorful blur.

The bus ride felt longer than usual, and Yn's unease only grew with each passing moment. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, as if the Marquis was somehow still present, his presence lingering in the shadows. Soon enough, in minutes, the bus finally arrived at her stop and Yn hastily got off.

Walking briskly through the dimly lit streets, Yn couldn't help but glance over her shoulder every now and then, her senses on high alert. The night seemed eerily quiet, and she couldn't shake off the feeling of being followed. Her footsteps quickened as she made her way toward her apartment building, her heart pounding in her chest.

Finally reaching the safety of her building, Yn loosened up a bit as she stepped into the well-lit lobby. She greeted the security guard with a tense smile, trying to appear calm and composed despite the fear gnawing at her insides. She hurriedly made her way to the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly, urging it to arrive faster.

As the elevator doors closed and she ascended to her floor, Yn's mind was still consumed by thoughts of the Marquis. She wondered what he had meant by his parting words and what kind of situation she had unwittingly walked into. The encounter had left her shaken and wary of everything that moved, and she couldn't help but question her own safety.

Finally reaching her apartment, Yn quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside, immediately feeling a sense of relief as she closed and locked it behind her. She leaned against the door, taking a moment to catch her breath and calm her racing thoughts. It was in the safety of her own space that she could begin to process the events of the night.

Suddenly, a meow was heard in the silence of the apartment and Yn jumped in complete fright, yelping quietly, before she glanced down and realized it was her cat, Rosie. She was innocently moving closer to the spooked owner and brushed her body against Yn's legs.

"Yn?"

Yn brought her eyes up from the floor and looked to see it was Barbara. The latter stared at her in bewilderment and curiosity and quizzed her, "What's wrong? You look like you saw a ghost."

Yn took a deep breath, trying to steady herself and regain composure. She realized that she must have appeared quite shaken to Barbara, and she didn't want to alarm her cousin unnecessarily.

"It's... it's nothing," Yn replied, forcing a smile onto her face. "I just had a strange encounter at work."

Barbara's eyebrows furrowed with concern. "What happened?"

Yn faked a smile and shook her head as if wordlessly indicating to not ask any questions. She said, "Nothing. Where is Sydney?"

Barbara gestured to the little girl's bedroom and replied, "Asleep in her bedroom..."

Yn let out a sigh and told, "Okay. Thanks, Barbara."

The cousin stared at her quietly, clearly getting the message that Yn did not want to talk about whatever it was that bothered her.

"Alright," Barbara grabbed her belongings and went to the door. She turned to Yn and said with a stretched smile, "Just call me if you ever need help or a friend. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Yn smiled gratefully at Barbara's offer of support, "Okay. Thank you again, Bar."

Barbara nodded and exited the apartment, leaving Yn alone with her thoughts. After ensuring that Sydney was sound asleep, Yn decided to pour herself a glass of water in the kitchen. As she stood by the sink, she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

As she sipped her water, Yn pondered for a long while in the safety of her humble abode. She knew that no matter what, she had to return to the casino the following evening. Much as she disliked it, she needed the job more than she wanted to admit, even though the Marquis was her boss.

After a long contemplation, she arrived to a conclusion. Her plan was simple: stay away from him. Avoid being in close proximity with him and avoid any chance of having to talk to with him at all. Make sure she never found herself alone inside the casino walls. She would do whatever it took to keep her distance from him, no matter the cost.

Once she got enough money for the payment of her mother's medical bills, she would quit and leave the casino without looking back.

PREV : Chapter 01

NEXT : Chapter 03

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[rayan12sworld]

💙but I figured it out, then made my way back

By:MichelleFeather

Summary:

It was an extreme, a desperate decision fueled by anger towards the entire cultivation world, a grief deeper than the deepest trenches in the ocean. The realization that Lan Wangji would now have to continue on living a second time without his beloved, where Wei Wuxian had died once again. Where, once more, his love had been taken from him by cruel, unrighteous men who thought they knew better, that they were doing the world a justice.

Lan Qiren had seen the state that his nephew had been in after Wei Wuxian’s first death, what Lan Wangji had done in his grief then, and he feared what Lan Wangji would do to himself if he was left alone with this repeated grief.

Chapter:7/7

Words:19,318

Status:ongoing

“Regardless, Wei Ying is Wei Ying, and I will always support any decision you two make. If this is your A-Ying, we will just have to expedite our plans, get him out of the hands of the Jiangs and back where he belongs - in yours.” Lan Wangji finally let out the sob he had been holding.

~

“Did you know you would come back with us?” Wei Ying let out a small laugh. “I was there when you activated the array. You didn’t really think I would let death take me away from Lan Zhan a second time, did you?”

~~

Zidian unfurled and was darting towards Wei Wuxian - only to be caught by Lan Wangji. He pulled the whip taut, seemingly unaffected by Zidian’s energy, by Yu Ziyuan’s attempts to pull the whip back towards herself. Lan Wangji flooded Zidian with his spiritual energy, the purple whip momentarily turning blue before Madam Yu slumped to the floor, her eyes wide as she stared in shock at the Lan. Her hands shook as she looked down at the ring on her finger, eyes widening as it no longer responded to her calls. The once purple hue of her ring, now a cerulean blue. No longer under her command. Yu Ziyuan swallowed, nodding as she arranged herself to sit properly in her seat. She wasn’t stupid. She knew when she was faced with a strong opponent. Yu Ziyuan knew that she wouldn’t last a moment against Lan Wangji, for reasons she didn’t quite understand, but she wouldn’t dare further challenge someone able to so easily take control of Zidian, of changing the very color of the heirloom, the very foundation of its spiritual energy’s focus.

~~so badass of Lan Zhan 👏👏👏👏

“I have seen more men to death than you can imagine. However, I will not be the one to end you, I will leave that up to your incompetency, your inability to control your wife, and lead your sect. There will come a day, Jiang Fengmian, that the Jiang Clan will fall.” Wei Ying held onto the Clan Leader’s neck before throwing him to the ground. “And I will celebrate that day as it will have been many lifetimes worth of karma finally seeking justice.”

~~

[youaintnothinbuta]

OKAY SO I WAS THINKING JD X READER WHO HATES HIM AT FIRST BUT ENDS UP FALLING FOR HIM? I HOPE THAT MAKES SENSE LOVE YOUR WORK BTW💗

“I didn’t know how else to shut you up.”

Summary: you and Jd are partnered for a school project.

Pairing: reader x jd

Word count: 896

Warnings: fluff, probably spelling mistakes/typos

Request something here !

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“Get a load of this. I got paired with trench coat kid for our history assignment. Kill me now.” You ranted, joining your best friends in the hallway, walking to the cafeteria.

“Trench coat kid? Ouch.” Jd pretended to be insulted, accidentally bumping into you in the cafeteria. Your friends continued to your table, you glaring at them as they left you with Jd.

“God, why are you so weird?”

Jd flashed a mischievous smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I prefer fascinating.” he retorted.

You rolled your eyes, "fascinating. How very.”

Undeterred by your dismissive attitude, Jd continued, “Look, I know you don't like me, but we're stuck together for this history project. Can you quit it with the Heather attitude just while we have to work together?”

You sighed, realizing he had a point. As much as you disliked the idea, you were a straight-A student, more or less, and this project wasn’t going to change that. Besides, at the very least, you’ll get to hang around some male company that isn’t Kurt or Ram for once. “Fine,” you grumbled, “but don't expect me to become your new best friend or anything.”

Jd grinned. “Fair enough. Let's meet up at the library after school, and we can start working on the project.”

You gave him one last look, before pushing passed to meet your friends at your table.

***

After the final bell rang, you made your way to the library. Jd was already waiting, sitting at a table near the back. He had his nose buried in a book, seemingly engrossed in its contents.

As you approached, Jd looked up and smiled warmly. “Glad you could make it,” he stood up, pulling out the chair beside him for you. You sat down beside him, slightly surprised by his chivalrous demeanor. “Yeah, well, I'm not one to back down from a challenge,” you replied, earning a small chuckle from Jd.

***

Two days ago you and Jd started your project together, in the library. You spent most of the time making snarky comments at him, however he stayed undiscouraged by your remarks, leaving you with a particular curiosity you’d not felt before. Anyway, the two of you agreed that it’d be better to continue working on it at your house, because you were constantly being shushed by the librarian.

“Where’s your parents?” Jd asked as you walked him though your house, upstairs to your room.

“It’s a Thursday. Their date night. But it’s more like a date afternoon because my mom likes to be in bed by nine thirty.”

“Nine thirty,” Jd, raised an eyebrow, laughing, “wild child.”

“Yeah, I get it from her, can’t you tell?” You joked.

Jd laughed, sitting on the floor, pulling his textbook out his backpack. You sat beside him, taking out the work you two started the other day. Just as you were about to get started, the phone on your bedside table began to ring. You inhaled deeply, waiting for it to ring out.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” Jd asked.

“No. It’s either Heather, Heather, or Heather.”

Jd took a moment to think, “You’re not really one of them, are you?” The way we spoke was gentle. Usually every sentence he speaks contains at least one sarcastic punch, but he was tender with his words this time, something you’d not heard before.

“Well, my name isn’t Heather.”

“You don’t like them, do you, Y/N?”

You shook your head, “I don’t.”

Jd stared at you for a while, you stared back at him, not in a competitive way, just trying to read the others gaze for a moment.

“Why do you do that to yourself? Involve yourself in them, I mean? Why?”

“Well, it’s just like they’re people I work with and our job is being popular and shit. I can’t exactly just say no.” You gave him a small smile, “but it’d be nice to have someone around that wasn’t a mythic bitch.”

Jd laughed softly, “what about McNamara? She seems tolera—“

“Ugh!” You shouted.

“Woah. Forget I said that, Christ.”

Once again, your telephone rang.

“I can’t stand this! Ho-how does someone end up in this situation- I shoved away my real friends for what?” You ranted, on and on, over the sound of the phone, “I use my grand IQ to decide what lip gloss to wear in the morning and how to hit three keggers before—“

Jd shushed you with the first thing that came to mind. A kiss. As his lips gently connected to yours, you were momentarily taken aback. His unexpected gesture silenced your rambling, leaving you both in a state of quiet astonishment.

When he pulled away, you blinked, trying to process what had just happened. The room was filled with an unusual tension, and the air crackled with unspoken words. You looked at Jd, searching for an explanation in his eyes.

Jd's expression mirrored your confusion, but there was a newfound vulnerability there. “I... I didn’t know how else to shut you up,” he stammered. You stared at him, your mind racing. In that instant, you realized that Jd wasn't just your sarcastic and weird project partner anymore. There was something that had been building between you two. Perhaps it was the shared frustrations, the longing for genuine connections, or simply the way he had seen through the facade you put on for the world.