#without knowing that that's what this movie was going to be I wore my father's Carhartts tonight

[waterloggeddaughter]

Huuuge win for dykes who are their fathers (just watched love lies bleeding)

[bunnys-kisses]

🎀 can i get a pithivier and angel food cake and croissant nanaimo bars (but also a pull-apart bread bc i’m a softy) with a side of a martini and an early grey 🤭 for daniel ricciardo pretty please ❤️❤️

bakery menu

want to submit an order? then check out the menu! there is all kinds of things on there! thank you in advance and enjoy! as for this lovely anon, thank you so much for the order! i hope you love what i've come up with! with the cherry on top of the pull-apart bread! AND the mafia au, this was a lovely order to write. i hope it's amazing! so yes! enjoy!!

pithivier ("if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you.") + angel food cake ("if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you.") + croissants ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + pull-apart bread ("i love you") + martini (mafia au) + earl grey tea (big cock) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, big cock!daniel, wolff!reader, mafia boss!daniel, mafia boss daughter!reader, affection

the wolf and her moon. the smiling moon that led her from the pack and into the arms of one of the scariest men on the continent. in the glimmering lights of monaco, miss wolff spent her evenings with mister ricciardo, the head of a prominent mafia family.

you were not scared of that life, your adoring father was toto wolff. you had been surrounded by the life for as long as you could remember. you remembered being driven to school by men in dark suits. you remembered going on dates as a teen and seeing the same men in shady corners near where you were. even now as an adult the cloak of your father felt close.

which was why it took a fair bit to get close to daniel ricciardo.

you had been with daniel for a few months now. there was something about him that simply pulled you in. you knew he was a dangerous man, you once spent a night in france with him and mapped out his tattoos with your lips.

he treated you like you were capable, that you weren't something to be protected. even though he did have a habit of keeping a hand on your lower back and opening doors for you. you've only ever once paid for a meal and he loved when you wore the things he bought for you.

currently you were in his home, you just had dinner and were enjoying each other's company. daniel's thick fingers were in your hair as you laid out next to him. the lights were low and you both weren't pay attention to the movie he had put on. you knew it was a marvel movie, but you stopped paying attention to them ages ago.

"i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me." daniel said out loud.

you sighed and pressed yourself further against him and looked up at him, "my father doesn't matter right now. he's off doing whatever tonight."

he rubbed the back of your head and said jokingly, "well you know, if he fucks with me or the family again, i'm finishing inside of you." then kissed you on the face.

you pulled away a little, "i've been hearing all about this power vacuum. should i be worried that you'll do something to my father."

daniel pulled you in once more and peppered your face with kisses, "never. after all, he'll eventually be my father-in-law." and watched you duck your head in embarrassment. he laughed, "i want the satisfaction of him walking you down the aisle.

you rolled your eyes and kissed him all over the face, "i just want both of you safe." you got into his lap and held onto his face. the kiss deepened with his strong arms around you.

when he pulled away he said, "i promise." then pulled you onto your back and kissed you once more, "i can't have my future wife without her husband." he chuckled and stroked your face.

you melted every time he called you that. you sometimes wondered if he was already picking out rings and if you were brought up in backroom conversations between him and your father.

he peppered kissed along your jaw and felt a pull of affection towards you, "i love you."

you giggled and stared up at him, you felt a blush in your cheeks. you felt a thump in your chest and love that dripped into your soul. you joked, "for a mafia boss, you're a big softie."

he rolled his eyes, "what do you want me to say? if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you? never. i love you too much." then kissed at you softly.

you melted a little more, honey in your soul, "you big sap!" you slapped his chest playfully and he pulled you in for a massive kiss.

"yeah, but you're my pretty girl." he want in for another kiss and said slyly, ""who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."

you burst into laughter and squirmed under him. he soon had the bottom of your tank top off over your head and his hands on your breasts.

"c'mon, beautiful. who is my pretty girl? who is the girl who lights me alive and fills me full of love." he kissed at your face with his hands on your breasts. he palmed at the flesh and you arched your back.

you moaned and he started to work on getting your sweatpants off. in all fairness they originally belonged to him, but you told him that women's sweatpants sucked. "if i'm wearing sweatpants, i don't wanna look sexy!" but he thought you looked sexy in his pair.

you reached out for him and placed your palms across his covered chest. he was in a white tank top and similar grey sweats (the other pair he had to buy). you could see the thin gold chair he wore.

it was a hot sight, especially as he got the tank top off and exposed his toned chest to you. you exhaled deeply through you nose and said, "fuck you're hot. my entire life i thought that the mafia were a bunch of busted nose with a fat lip goons who enjoyed beating the shit out of random people." that was what your father told you about men who worked for the families as a means to steer you away from them. he wanted you to be with a man with a white collar job.

"well." daniel chuckled as he rubbed his clothed cock up against your panties, "you've seen me with a fat lip, two broken noses and a broken foot."

"it wasn't broken per say. you did have to get those stitches."

daniel chuckled, "damn verstappen, dropping that wine bottle on it." he got himself out of his briefs and you out of your panties. he admired the sight of your sweet cunt exposed in the soft lighting of the bedroom.

you swallowed at the sight of his cock out of his underwear. daniel had a big cock, you remember the first time you saw it and your eyes got wide. it still left a shiver through it you even now, but you were a little more accustomed to its size.

daniel got closer to you, his chest against yours as he took you by the hips. with a little work, he sank his cock into you. you let out a sweet moan and daniel felt a flash of heat in his chest.

"mmm, beautiful."

you smiled up at him and reached for his face. you pulled him in to a soft kiss and ran your fingers across his chest. his heartbeat was home.

your arms wrapped around him as he thrusted up into you. the two of you moved together, daniel's gaze lingered on you. from your beautiful eyes to your soft lips. the shape of your face and any little 'imperfections' across your skin. he thought it was all beautiful, he tried not to leer at your breasts. you were a person, not meat for him to ogle at.

you held onto him as he continued to move. you could felt lustful flames lick at you core. your back arched a little when his cock prodded up against some of your softest areas.

daniel was a generous lover, he loved the feeling of you. his kisses lingered, wet against your face and neck. you two were wound up into one another as he moved his hips against yours.

from two mafia families, put together. fitting together like puzzle pieces. if anyone from either of your family saw this sexual display, heads would roll.

but you and daniel didn't care. you wanted one another in a way that left you both feeling lot. it wasn't just a sexual heat, but something deeper. something that made you yearn for the other man.

when you looked at him, you felt special. you were a special girl in many ways, not only because of your father's name. you were smart, funny, had friends, and overall were a delight to be about. you had hobbies and aspirations. you were one of a kind, but when daniel looked at you. it sent it all into overdrive, to daniel you were the most important thing on this earth.

you knew with enough convincing, you two could leave the mafia life behind together. run off to the mountains of switzerland and have three children.

daniel kissed you once more, they were hot and heavy as your hands explored one another. you could almost feel your lover's heartbeat.

when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, "one day i'm going to marry you. and i can't wait. you're going to make a beautiful wife for me."

"what about-"

"it'll work out." he pulled his face a little bit and he winked at you. he plants his hands on either side of you and continued to thrust up into you.

you clutched onto his shoulders and he moved faster. you felt the flush of heat through your chest at the feeling and sight of your beloved. this was where you wanted to be. with daniel.

daniel continued to move against you. he shifted your hips and got your knees to your head. he thrusted against you from the perfect angle. a proper mating press for a proper girl.

it only heightened the pleasure, to have you lover hit all the right spots. you moaned and clutched onto the back of your knees as he moved against you. he kissed you once more before you came around his cock. your pretty nails dug into your flesh as he moved against you. the intensity of it made daniel finish as well.

his cum shot into the furthest parts of you as he continued to rock against you. his pulse shot through the roof and sweat made his back shiny. the rush was like a shock to his system. he held you in his arms and rolled to the side.

you laid there naked, daniel's arms around you and eventually your face was in his chest. you felt the after feelings of pleasure and laid tangled up in the man you loved.

he kissed the side of your head and you felt warm. loved.

-

"sonnenschein." your father greeted you in his home office a few days later. you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you. your father gestured to the chair across from him.

you sat gently across from him, straightened your skirt. you then looked at your father once more and asked, "is everything okay?"

"of course. no need to worry." was a common phrase from your father. it made you give him a look and he gave a similar one in return. "you know i care for you, right?" toto said, his hands on the desk. he idly straightened out the mat under his palms. your father seemed nervous, your father was never nervous.

you shifted in your seat, "what's happening, papa." your eyebrows raised and there was a tightness in your chest.

toto sighed, eyes looked away for a moment, "things have gotten complicated in the network of all the families. there is a struggle for power. i fear something is coming and i need to protect you, sonnenschein...."

"are you sending me away?"

"no, no... you'll stay here. of course. i don't want you to feel like a pawn in these games. but, i need the biggest favor from you."

you nodded, "anything."

toto leaned back in his chair and held eye contact with you. the man who taught you how to ride a bike and a shoot a gun. who told you that dreams were only possible if the work was put into it. he had raised a confident young woman. which was why it broke his heart to say, "i need you to be in an arranged married with daniel ricciardo."

your eyes went wide and your heart skipped a beat. you put on a performance of a lifetime as you said to your father, "of course! anything for our family." <3

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

there truly is no words that can captivate my feelings for the au/what-ifs... EXCEPT FOR MADNESS

LET YN AND HIS SUSU BE IN LOVE!!! IM GOING TO START A PROTEST!!!!

❝ You know what sinners do when they love too soon (are you ready to die?) ❞

Geto Suguru x male!reader x Gojo Satoru | alternate universe, "evil" YN with his Susu | angst and NSFW warning | sub. bottom. reader (AMAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 7.4k

warnings: cults, extreme ideologies, mentions of arranged marriage, talks of death, implications of child soldiers, YN's father still sucks ass, anal sex, d. penetration

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

authors note: poly!satosuguyn if they weren't fluffy basically also, shout out to music anon for the title, I loved every title track you gave! gave me such a big boost for writing too!!! *YN is described as having a back scar from the fight with Fushiguro Toji

Like vinyl, dark stone, and crystal — Suguru's hair has always been one of his defining factors. Those healthy locks of inky black hair that glow a dark violet under light; no matter how he wears it, his hair is the envy of all. In the years that have passed, the envious stares grew greener the longer he wore it. With this change — among others — a new routine had been born between your small family.

Suguru does not tend to his hair. His husband and his daughters do. Not because he commands it. Suguru would never command them to do anything, especially if it came to taking care of himself. He was more than capable.

The three of you know this. But the habit does not stop. He takes care of all of you so you do the same in any way you can. Tonight, it will be your turn to ease him down. No missions, or meetings with the "money monkeys". Suguru will return home in his car and he will return home to his family and he will return home to you.

"Master (L/N)," Nanako calls out. She's dressed for sleep, her bangs already in curlers for tomorrow and smelling faintly of the rose hair oil she'd gotten from her trip to the city. Mimiko walks behind you, holding the tray of homemade food. You smile at the rose scent that wafts from her hair as well. "Yes, my darling?" You have told them they were allowed to refer to you without formality. Suguru had a title within his "organization" and so the twins calling him "Master Geto" was understandable — though entirely unnecessary. But if the girls felt more comfortable this way, you would not force them to change. "When we go to Tokyo, you're going to come with us to the crepe shop, right?" her eyes gleam up at you as she turns the screen of her phone to show the interior of the famous crepe restaurant. Despite not seeing a peek at a menu, you imagine it'll be daylight robbery. "Of course! I can't let you have all the fun," she giggles at the playful wiggle of your fingers her way. "I know a good spot for fruit parfait as well. Suguru and I used to go there as teenagers, I'm sure you'll love it." Mimiko settles beside you, and your hand finds itself atop her head in an appreciative gesture for her setting the table up.

"Really?" Nanako leans in next. "Did you use to go on dates with Master Geto? What was it like? Was he nervous?" Nanako can't imagine Master Geto being nervous, but the movie reel in her mind is unraveling, and she cannot stop herself. "Nervous?" You ponder the memory, the apples of your cheeks warming at her blatant curiosity. Geto Suguru, nervous? Even as teenagers, Suguru had always been someone you could rely on. It was rare to see him flustered or caught off-guard. The men and women who'd glance his way as you walked with him, the girls who would shyly sneak photos and giggle, or the braver ones who'd come up to him to ask what school he was from — he was never nervous about rejecting them or politely declining their compliments.

Mimiko leans in and you're between your daughters as they peek up at you. With your chin in between your pointer and thumb and nose turned up in the air with your closed eyes, Suguru wonders what you'd been discussing before he returned. "I'm home." This hideout was not the home he wanted for any of you. He envisioned a better life, a home with a big yard and less concrete. It was in no way ugly, but Suguru wishes he was more free to roam. Despite Gojo Satoru's refusal to take him and you to your execution, it did not mean there weren't other nuisances that'd jump at the chance to set this home on fire.

The twins gasp, greeting him with a smile while you remain in your pose with your brows furrowed deeply. "Master Geto, welcome back!" he brushes his hand over Nanako and Mimiko's heads, palm lingering on their nape with a fond smile as he makes his way to the dining table. "Dinner is almost done, Master Geto. Mr (L/N) has already prepared your bath," your eyes are open now but there's now a frown on your face as you gaze at the ceiling. "(Y/N)?" his brow creases at the lack of reply. “Darling? What are you thinking about?” Suguru’s palm places itself on your shoulder as if on instinct your body leans into his embrace. His gojo-gesa has the scent of cigarettes and of the outside world but you don’t mind cleaning up with him so you let him squeeze you closer.

“Sweetheart?”

“The girls were asking if I’ve ever seen you nervous before when we were teenagers,” you mumble absentmindedly, “I’m just thinking. I can’t recall any...”

You drop your hand and instead turn to face Suguru. He looks tired but his smile keeps it at bay. You can’t believe it’s been 10 years since you’ve been Suguru’s husband. But the proof is in front of you; on his face.

Suguru was undeniably handsome. That hadn't changed. His skin was still supple, not yet blotchy or spotted with age spots; his hair had a few streaks of grey but they blended in so seamlessly with his inky locks. No, no - it’s his eyes mostly. That violet colour that bleeds from his pupil, makes the hazel around it much more bright. But there is not much youth left in it, not like when the two of you were still sorcerers instead of curse-users. The fat under his eyes and the slightly darkened skin tone was a reward for all the nights he spent awake, the slight sunken cheeks that he never really filled out were there too.

All the things that were the same and all the things that were new about Suguru made your heart flutter.

“You’ve always been so sure of yourself, Suguru. It’s a bit annoying saying it out loud,” his smile widens and a quiet chuckle follows it. “You’re just jealous, I recall you stuttering and blushing when you confessed to us about how much you really liked us.”

Us.

Mimiko and Nanako tilt their heads.

“Us?”

Second-year students. The expectations of your father, the expectations of sorcerer society on Satoru. Dowry sent, marriage proposal lingering in the air. Your heart is prepared to be devastated by the yes or no you’ve received because in truth you did not want Gojo Satoru - not like this and not just him.

You wanted - no, you loved the two of them. There was no denying they loved each other, the shy glances and magnetic forcefield around them constantly made them to be touching each other was proof. But they did the same to you too and you felt like you were going crazy just thinking of the way Satoru spoonfed you ice cream or how Suguru pressed you to his front when a curse nearly grabbed you.

Before a yes or no could ruin you, you’d told the two of them to head to your dorm. You would spill your guts to them with honour and pride.

You didn’t.

You tried. But as you held the metaphorical blade to your stomach your eyes welled with tears and you began to weep. Satoru was on your right and Suguru was on your left. Their hands were over your back and on your knees and their warmth and scent just made you sob.

“I love you, Satoru, Suguru. I love you both. I think - I think I really do, and I can’t...I don’t...I feel like I’m going insane.”

Suguru’s next smile came with less enthusiasm. You say nothing as he squeezes you in closer, the sleeve of his robe hiding most of you from view and that deep blue shines under the dining room light; shines true and blue and your heart aches.

Suguru says he’ll wash up with you now and the girls know better than to pry when their father gets this way. He’s never rude about it, in fact, it’s obscenely polite how he just removes himself from the room to do one thing or the other. Some topics he wishes not to talk about but the girls know what “us” means.

“He was my best friend. My one and only.”

“Gojo Satoru? He was...he was my everything.”

The shower had been mostly silent. Which you thought was not out of the blue. The spray of water and the echoing of it all, well, it made people sink into their own thoughts and you secretly appreciated Suguru for allowing you to do the same. You pumped some soap into the silicone scrubber and began washing his back.

There was a scar on his shoulder from Togetta - his spear-wielding curse - and on his side, there was another scar from Frederick, his dragon. They were more or less faded but you were careful as you touched them. Suguru hums when you rinse him off but stills when you wrap your arms around him and stroke the scar on his chest.

“...Does it still hurt?” he can feel your cheeks moving as they’re smushed to his shoulder. “Sometimes,” he whispers. You trace over it and curse that ape of a man. Curse him to hell and whatever it is he believed in.

Then you wonder if Satoru has scars too.

Your eyes sting and you pull away from Suguru. The heaviness of your thoughts lifts away from him, and he sighs through his nose.

The bath is warm and it makes your tense muscles unbind. Suguru insisted you lay between his legs and you only obliged after a few kisses and promises of your favourite snacks.

His arms are firmly around you and they trace shapes into your thighs, you watch him despite the soapy water and blurred vision.

“Cocks aren’t quite pretty when they’re all limp, huh?” Suguru is caught off-guard by your words, his eyes split open and he stares at you like you’ve grown horns.

“Excuse me?”

You jerk your chin to the thing between your legs.

“Looks like the sea cucumber 'Toru was swinging around at the beach.” Suguru bursts out in laughter, his chest rising and falling as he hangs his head on your shoulder, hiding his face as he peeks at the thing between your legs.

"It's pretty," he chuckles out.

"Liar," you reply. Suguru's nimble fingers trace your thighs and he wraps them around your dick, your breath hitches but your eyes do not flutter close. Tendrils of his hair slip past his ear and tickle your neck but you're not like Satoru — your neck is not ticklish and Suguru presses a kiss there as he pumps his fist. "It's pretty," he affirms with a delicious twist of his wrist, his thumb pressing onto the tip of your cock with just the right of pressure that makes you chew on your lower lip. "It's perfect, (nickname). A perfect cock that I love, that's twitching in my hand, sweet and warm, and when I stroke here." Suguru dips his thumb below the mushroom tip of your dick, slipping it down to your base where his deft fingers squeeze, pulling his fist up and wrapping his palm around your head and it has your breath stuttering. "My precious boy sounds so sweet." "The girls," you whisper out, blushing as the water jostles at his actions. "They've made you dinner, S'guru, they're — ah! — they're waiting," you hold his wrist and he noses under your jaw, sucking your skin and you inhale sharply. "You're so hard." "S'guru..." "You're so close." "Su — fuck!" His shoulder cushions your head, chest arching upwards as he continues his actions without shame. He braces your twitching thighs open with his other hand and you're at his mercy as he unravels you. "Su — Su — nghah —" "Yes, (nickname)?" he coos at you. Your eyes narrow but they roll back as you feel your balls tighten, heat coiling in your stomach like a serpent. Covering your mouth, you breathe through your nose as your ass lifts from the tub and Suguru whistles in admiration, watching the rope of cum shoot out, landing in the water and on the rim of the tub. When you fall back, Suguru's cock presses on your back. He pulls your hand away and claims your lips, brows pinching at the taste of heaven. Sucking on your tongue, nipping at your lips, it leaves you dizzy. "The girls," he says suddenly as he pulls away from the kiss. You pant, lips wet with spit. A breath, then two, before you shakily nod. "They're waiting..."

Dinner was thankfully still warm by the time Suguru and you had finished your bath. The girls share a knowing look and you comfort yourself with the fact that they always share a look. A twin thing, Nanako told you. For your sanity, you decide it's best not to prod for more. Suguru asks them about their day. What they found, what they ate, asked if they needed anything at the end of the day whilst washing the dishes. He settles with them in the living room, pulling you into his side and the girls gather at his knees. Nanako places her head in your lap and Mimiko does the same to Suguru. Naturally, you reach for Nanako's hair and she allows it with a hum. You braid her hair as Mimiko and Suguru discuss the latest news of the show she was watching, of the rich non-sorcerer and the cursed spirit she set loose on him. "I think he thought the spam text he got was a divine sign," she scoffs out. "I'm sure he'll be making an appointment with you soon, Master Geto." "A job well done, Mimiko." Nanako leans into your touch as you card your fingers through her hair, loosening up some of the braids, wary of her sensitive scalp. Suguru tilts his head as you reach for it, brow raised in question, and even more, as you take his hairband, his hair falling over his back once again. "Nanako, straighten your back a bit." The sight of you with his girls makes his heart swell. "There we go, not too tight, darling?" she shakes her head, pinching Mimiko's arm to ask for her camera. "You look so pretty, sis!"

"You look fine, sis," Megumi mutters, and Tsumiki's shoulders droop.

"'Gumi, you're not helping me," she huffs. "Red or blue?" Megumi doesn't think it matters. So long as the mittens kept her hands warm, why would the colour of it matter? Even without speaking, his thoughts are written on his face, so Tsumiki turns to Satoru instead. "Mr Sa — Mr Satoru?" She blinks rapidly. It's hard to lose the tall man. His snow-white hair, the gauze wrapping his eyes, the obnoxious voice that cackles and giggles with glee — Megumi can sense his cursed energy but not being able to see him does make the boy straighten his back. "Ah, your father," the sales assistant walks up to them, holding a tray of mittens. This time the colours ranged from black, pink, purple, and yellow. She points her thumb in the direction of the store's entrance. "He said he had to take a call, he told you two to stay here while you wait. We've prepared some hot chocolate for you — you two don't have any allergies, do you?" Tsumiki answers their question, a bit flustered at the news while Megumi stares at the door. Their car is still outside, no longer idling and with the cafes around here he's sure Satoru had asked the driver to wait elsewhere too. He wonders where he's gone. Did he sense a curse? Was it an important call? "...Whatever," he turns to the next tray. The chocolate drink was warm, comforting, and present. He just hoped whatever got Satoru's attention didn't take too long. Satoru's footsteps halt in front of the restaurant. Some barbeque place that'd make the scent of grilled meat, cheap beer, and smoke stick to your clothes. He enters, bowing a bit to avoid bumping his head on the doorframe. The server perks up at the sight of him but his eyes zero in on you. Leaning on the threshold of one of their private rooms, just behind the server's shoulder. You're dressed in a turtleneck sweater, the colour making your skin look like a dream. When your eyes lock in, he has to stop himself from returning the smile you give him. "Don't worry about it," he tells the server as he walks past him and straight into the room. He takes off his shoes, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists for a moment before he slides the doors open. "Satoru, you came." Suguru is dressed in a turtleneck as well, his hair tied up in a half-up half-down hairdo, his stubborn bangs still framing his face. You're sat next to him, pouring some drinks into a cup. "Of course he would, Su-Su. Don't sound so surprised," your words aren't meant to be mocking but Satoru's jaw clenches anyways. "He's our husband after all," you meet his eyes again and the grin on your face is so sincere Satoru feels like he'd been slapped in the face with guilt. "Husband?" He slid the doors closed, ignoring the two cursed spirits that were in the corner of the room. "You two must miss me a lot to use that title again, the last time — " "The last time, you claimed we weren't," you snap. Suguru squeezes your knee under the table. The last time, the three of you had gotten into a fight. It was the usual. He pleads for the two of you to come back, you plead for him to join your cause, and Suguru tells you that Satoru won't which will light a fire in you that neither can extinguish.

"Forgive me for stating the obvious fact that husbands should share a home together," Satoru sits across from the both of you and although your words are harsh, you move to sit next to him. "We have a home that we can share," you wrap your arms around him and Satoru's arms pull you in closer. "You just won't come home, Toru. Come home."

It pains him to hear you say this again. His home had always been the two of you. It hurts him that he can only meet his husbands in secret as if it is something to be ashamed of. But what other option did you give him? "(Y/N)," Suguru calls out. You frown but you drop it in favour of kissing Satoru. He likes kissing you. The arms around your waist tighten and he groans into the kiss. Suguru watches the two of you over the rim of his cup. He watches as Satoru slips his hands up your sweater and shivers from his cold touch. "Sa — Toru — " he ignores you, parting from the kiss to instead latch his glossy lips to your now exposed nipples. He ignores the grip you have on his shoulders, the wriggling of your torso and simply pulling you in closer.

"Impatient as ever, Satoru." Suguru places his cup down just as Satoru pushes the side dishes away from the table to place you there. This room was one without a grill, thankfully, and the cooked meat would be sent to the room instead.

Satoru ignores Suguru as well, intently marking you up. The low table digs uncomfortably in the back of your thighs as Satoru's weight on you makes you breathless. Suguru reaches out, grabs a fistful of Satoru's hair, and forces him to look at him.

"Satoru. You're being mean." Suguru tilts his head down and it makes Satoru's dick fill up in his pants.

"Not without any prompting," he defends as he surges up. Their noses bump into each other and without a second to waste, Satoru claims Suguru's lips with a righteousness that makes Suguru smile.

You watch as their lips press together, licking yours as Suguru makes Satoru groan when he tightens his hold on his hair once again. It is still the strongest sorcerer in his spot. Akin to a kitten being grabbed by his scruff. Except Satoru isn't a defenseless kitten now, is he?

He's a mysterious beast that belongs in prophecies and myths. A white dragon with shimmering scales that shone in every colour like opal under the sun. His teeth are so large and dark, his maw harbors Death within it. But not for his husbands, no.

For his husbands, this mighty dragon's maw is a source of pleasure. Satoru gulps thickly as your tongue traces the hill of his throat. Your mouth latching onto his neck like a lamprey, all teeth as you mottle his skin. His poor husband, his darling beloved, his (Y/N); you must've missed him.

That's the only way he can rationalize your need to pull down his scarf, tossing it aside as you reach beneath the layers of his jacket and shirt to feel his naked skin. Suguru moans out your name between the kissing when Satoru whispers it to him, his eyes fluttering open as Suguru unravels the bandages around his eyes.

"Husband," you call out, teasingly nipping at Satoru's chin as you sit up properly. Suguru kisses the crown of your head, pressing a kiss to your nape as his warm hands squeeze at your clothed thighs. Heaven looks your way and it relishes in the way your pupils dilate.

It's proof this love is real. Forgive him for doubting you, but he misses you so badly, (Y/N). He wants his husband's home, so his bed is never cold.

He envies the both of you. Not knowing how large your bed feels even when the both of you hold onto each other because that's how awful love is; it lacerates deeply into your skin, going past the layers until all you do is bleed. The cruelest thing is, that it requires to be stitched up and tended to but refuses anything other than the one you desire the most.

When fate is in the way of that, all you can do is bleed and hurt.

It's not that you're not enough for Suguru or Suguru is not enough for you. It's that the both of you have cut each other so deeply, not being together only ever leaves all three of you aching.

Incomplete. Jagged. Cracked. Flawed.

But when the both of them have their lips on you? When their large hands grope and caress you as if you were the only medicine they needed? When your name rolls off their tongues and they beg for you to allow them to please you?

"Satoru, Suguru." Your husbands lean in. Suguru on your left, from behind you, answers your call with a deep hum that makes your cheeks warm. On your right, Satoru presses a kiss to your jaw, an airy 'yeah, baby?' coming from him that makes Suguru pry your thighs apart.

"I missed you."

They understand what you mean. They understand what you need.

The curses keep the door closed, staring aimlessly like statues. Unbothered by the sight before them.

The side dishes that had fallen are staining the flooring but Satoru will be sure to leave a hefty tip for the restaurant to turn a blind eye towards it. The more pressing matter is the way you're being bounced in front of him.

He's panting, eyes trained on the hands gripping onto the mounds of your ass. It kneads and pulls it apart, deliberately showing him the way you're clenched around Suguru's dick. How easily you take him in and how with every drag down, you squeeze around him so deliciously it makes Suguru's balls tighten.

You toss your head back, moaning out wantonly as Suguru sucks his teeth. Satoru presses his palms to your waist and you grin loosely as he tilts your head further back just so he can kiss you. With how uncoordinated the position is, it's a bit messy but it makes your dick strain against Suguru's stomach.

"Think you're ready for me too, my beloved?" Satoru murmurs, relishing in the way you're gazing up at him. "Why do you need to ask such silly questions," you whine.

"I was made to take the both of you."

Suguru chuckles, giving you a thrust that has you hiccuping in pleasure. "Such a dutiful husband, aren't you?" Satoru teases, reaching forward to cup your chest in his hands and palming at your nipples.

"Of course he is, Satoru," Suguru replies with a smooth tone of voice. "He's ours. He's perfection. Like he said, made just for us."

You preen under their words and touches. Overwhelmed with want as your hands pull away from Suguru's neck and reach for Satoru's biceps.

"Stop toying with me. Fill me, completely," you ignore the way your heart aches at the way Satoru is gazing at you. "Fill me until I can only think of pleasure."

"What man says no to such a sweet command," his kiss on your shoulder simply makes the heartache stronger. You wish this could be forever. Not just monthly romps that get spaced out between arguments of disapproval or busy schedules.

Satoru doesn't deserve that. Suguru and you don't deserve that.

It's the damn world that's at fault. That man with that freakish scar, the higher-ups who recruit children to fight their battles. Who placed the weight of the world onto your shoulders and shoved you into the battlefield. It's a graveyard and the longer you stay on it, burdened by responsibility that no child should carry, the more prominent the name on the headstones becomes. That school, the generation that comes after you, do they know the halls are tombs?

Why should children fight for the weak?

Why should older sorcerers use children as vessels to prolong their existence?

Why can't the world just allow you to live in peace?

These scars are engraved in your body and heart. They should not be there. But they are anyway and it's the reason you gaze down at white sheets with disdain.

Riko, Amanai, Haibara.

Satoru...

Flashes of him bled out and dead on the stones of Tokyo High make you rigid. Satoru is talking to you, but his voice sounds like a distant echo. Suguru cups your cheek and you squeeze your eyes closed.

"Please, I only want to feel you." Your tears darken your lashes and Suguru shares a look with Satoru. They speak without words and you can hear their mute conversation without even stealing a glance.

"I just need to feel you."

Suguru lifts you and you cry out in despair so he kisses you to assure you. "Just changing your position, my love. Here, I know you miss this rude man."

You're facing Satoru now and you can see that pinkish scar on his forehead, his neck having a stark star-like scar, when your hands grip the top of his thighs; you can feel the rise of ripped skin. Everyone assumes he never got hurt, much less has such an array of scars, but you and Suguru know better.

Suguru squeezes your waist and he tucks his head to your neck. His chin balances on your shoulder as his lashes brush along your skin. Satoru is silent as you comb his bangs away, your thumb brushing over his scar. "Does it ever hurt?" You ask. He brings the tip of your fingers to his lips. "Never. Nothing but a blemish."

Suguru scoffs, the scar across his chest bumping into the one on your back. If you close your eyes, you can probably hear the sound of friction your skin creates. Satoru smirks at Suguru, taking your finger into his mouth. His teeth press down on your joint and you giggle at the silliness.

His dexterous tongue is more cheeky in its endeavors. Purposefully, he closes his lips around the digit, sucking lightly and letting his tongue remind you of those nights he spent languid hours between your legs in Suguru's dorm room.

"You're perverted," you pant out. "You love me," Satoru mumbles. "Fortunately for you, we do," Suguru muses.

Satoru pulls your finger out, leaning in to kiss you. Your lips part as his tongue slithers inside, stealing your breath and soul. Greedily, Suguru twists your face and separates the both of you, the string of saliva breaking as you gasp into his mouth next.

Satoru isn't heartbroken. The sight is heaven and he imprints it into his brain. Reaching down, Satoru carefully lifts your hips and you quickly get the hint. He lets you go, grabbing onto his cock and lining it up with your entrance that's craving for him.

Suguru watches you while your eyes roll. Satoru inhales, eyebrow twinging at the heat that wraps around him.

"I missed this hole, my perfect little hole," he groans out. Obsessed with the way you stretch out around him, clenching and unclenching as he eases you down on his cock.

"Good boy," Suguru whispers to you, his hands grasping your cock and stroking you. "You're almost halfway down. That's it, baby."

"Suguru," he calls out. Nodding, Suguru presses a kiss to your shoulder, grabbing his own dick to press his head to your hole. Satoru spits into his palm, rolling it over your tip which makes you keen.

"Uh-uh. Loosen up, (Y/N). Easy, baby." Satoru 'scolds'. You hang your head down, panting as you feel Suguru nudging into you. Your empty hands reach to hold onto Suguru's knees. "Such a good boy. I'm almost inside, shhh, it's alright. You can do it, baby. I know you can."

Satoru laughs breathlessly as he feels Suguru's length rub against his, biting down on his lip at the sensation. You're whining at the stretch and Satoru shushes you, stroking your cock in just the right way that makes both of your husbands moan when you tighten around them.

"Fuuuck," Suguru's open-mouthed breathing on your nape coupled with the sight of Satoru's head tossed back makes you feel bold enough to allow gravity to help you the rest of the way down.

The loud 'plap' sound that echoes when you drop down makes Satoru and Suguru choke out your name. You're gasping, lips loosely pulled in a grin; completely proud of yourself.

"I'm the pervert?" Satoru groans out. "As if yuh - you can take two big cocks up yours," you retort. "The both of you are insane," Suguru concludes.

It's a symphony of movement and noise. As Suguru thrusts out, Satoru thrusts in; that sweet bundle of nerves never getting a moment of reprieve. The sheen of sweat that glimmers on your skin makes you cold, so you reach for them and they press closer. Sandwiching you between their bodies.

Their mouths mottle what skin they can reach. Their teeth taint your flesh. Satoru is bruising your mouth while Suguru's hands are leaving prints all over your hips and Satoru's waist.

It's Satoru that proposes new positions. Clearly pent-up as he takes you in any way he can. Cushioning your back as Suguru fucks you from above, scratching the back of your thighs as he holds your legs open for Suguru.

His mouth takes you in while Suguru laps up their cum from your hole. The sounds you make together are absolutely obscene. The low table has you pinned on it more than once, toppling over as Suguru teasingly rips you away and Satoru gives chase.

It's fun. It's passionate. It's love in its filthiest form.

The laughter, the moans, the pleading, the tears, the cum, the sweat.

By the end of it?

The room is a mess. Your thighs are twitching as Suguru sweetly brushes your hair away from your face, encouraging Satoru to pump another load into you with that saccharine-sweet voice of his.

"Aw, that's it, Satoru. You're doing so well, making our (Y/N) feel so good, yeah? You feel good, baby?"

You whimper, cock weakly twitching on your stomach in a pool of its own wetness. Each thrust makes it spurt more and Satoru is rabid as he watches. Suguru chuckles, kissing you again and Satoru groans as he thrusts as deeply as he can inside of you to paint your insides white.

"S'toru," you shakily moan. Giving one last pathetic dribble of pearls.

"What a good boy, the both of you," Suguru laughs as Satoru barely catches himself from falling completely on top of you. Satoru kisses Suguru back, groaning as he does and you moan as you feel his dick twitch inside of you.

"We can't," Suguru whispers. "One more time, please," Satoru pleads. "We can't," you pant out.

His jaw sets. When he pulls out, you shudder as their cum trails out. Satoru stares at the floor, panting while Suguru summons the curses to come closer. One holds out a bowl of warm water while the other has a cloth.

"Don't," Suguru mutters, "Don't bring it up, Satoru."

He sniffles, the act derisive, and stands up. You watch him, the haze you're in quickly dissipating at the anger in his eyes.

"You could come home —"

"Satoru," you plead.

"No! You could! Come home, so this won't end!"

Your body — that was all limp and relaxed — tenses. Suguru narrows his eyes at Satoru as he cleans you up, wiping away what he can. The action feels bittersweet. As if this meeting of passion was something to be ashamed of when it shouldn't be. You had the right to wear their love with pride but yet...

Here you are.

"Why can't you just come home?" Satoru's shoulders drop, defeated. Like that day Suguru and you announced your decision to betray Sorcerer Society by becoming Curse Users.

"There's room for you." You lean against Suguru as he helps you to sit. "Satoru, please. You know we want nothing more than — "

"(Y/N)," Suguru's voice is curt and his tone icy. You frown at him, shaking your head as you turn to face your Satoru.

"If you could only just, just see what we do —"

"Kill civilians? Scam them out of their money?" He scoffs. Satoru reaches for his discarded clothes and snatches the towel Suguru's curse spirit offers to wipe himself down.

"They deserved what they got!" Your argument is met with a reproachful glare. Suguru warns Satoru with a glance and it simply fuels his ire.

"My daughter is a non-sorcerer. Does she deserve death too?" "Our daughter's only crime was that they were sorcerers! Those villagers, you didn't see what they did."

"Don't start," Satoru growls. He's pulling on his shirt, and his pants. "What else could we have done?" You growl out.

Satoru turns to you, spreading his arms out in a display of annoyance.

"Called me! Called Shoko! Several other choices could have been made at that moment instead of massacring and burning down the entire village!"

"That's enough."

"And let the higher-ups enroll the girls into the school? Let them die like you did? Like Haibara!?"

"That's enough!"

Suguru's yell causes the both of you to flinch. His violet eyes are set in a glare and his usually curled lips are now downturned. He is not angry but the disappointment is clear. It's aimed at both of you.

"Let's not end this date on a sour note. It's late. We should go home."

"Suguru," it would amuse him how Satoru and you call out to him in unison and it does. It reminds him of those days when you'd be clinging onto his back while Satoru pokes his side, begging for him to do whatever it is your mischief wishes for him to. Shoko only fuelling the fire to see him groan and roll his eyes.

But this time, it causes him heartache.

"We love each other. We don't need to be screaming at each other like this."

It's dark out by the time Satoru walks back into the store. The workers greet him with enthusiasm, sheepishly showing him how Tsumiki is taking a nap in the employee's break room — which is decidedly now as fancy as the rest of the store — and Megumi giving him a hard glare.

"Was it an emergency?" He mutters. Satoru nods, walking to Tsumiki and gently nudging her awake.

"It better have been. We waited for hours."

"They gave us...hot cocoa though," Satoru grins at her yawning expression, patting her head. "Sorry for the wait, c'mon. Let's go home, yeah?"

He can't fathom what sin Tsumiki had committed against humanity. Being born without a sorcerer, being born weak, was that really a grave enough sin for her to be killed?

Tsumiki yawns once more and when Satoru extends a hand for her to take, she squeezes assuringly.

Megumi doesn't take his other but Satoru smoothly slips it into his pocket as they head to the cashier to pay for their designer mittens and whatever else they added into their cart.

Satoru glances out into the street, frowning as he sees you and Suguru passing by.

The way you glance at Tsumiki and Megumi...

Satoru loves you and Suguru more than he can express but there was no way in hell he was going to let you hurt his kids.

He tells you this without words and in a split second your eyes meet.

You relay the same information back as two girls rush to your side. Satoru only sees their hands and the slightest sliver of dark and blonde heads of hair before you disappear from sight.

"Are you okay, Mr Satoru?" Tsumiki asks, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. It's just a little chilly."

"Emerge from darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."

"Did you miss this?" Suguru chuckles at your words. "The courtyard of our beloved school? Surprisingly, not. Though the memories are sweet."

The veil around you draws your eyes upwards. Spinning on the tips of your toes, you twirl along the sloped tiles of the school, if only to make Suguru laugh.

"Once we kill Okkotsu Yuuta and take Rika, you'll use Divine Flame and burn everything down. I'm sure your father will appreciate your prowess."

He holds you as you drape yourself across his front, kissing you back when you connect your lips together.

"It'll be a battle of lovers," you muse. "I'll look forward to seeing you in battle, (Y/N). It's been a while since you've had the chance to give it your all." Suguru presses another kiss to your lips, earning a giggle from you.

"That Cursed Corpse is Yaga's, isn't he?" He nods against you. "The non-sorcerer is yours to defeat. I'll burn that plushie to ash."

"You're ruthless," he purrs. "You love it," you reply.

"The world we longed for. Is here before my eyes!" Suguru exclaims from beside you, his eyes filling with tears that make yours do the same.

"It's a shame, Okkotsu." You sigh out, straightening your back as you grin at his wide eyes. "Killing you wasn't in our initial plans."

"Come, Rika!"

The sight of her makes your grin stretch from ear to ear. Suguru and you stand your ground, your palms warming up as excitement brews within you. That ideal you've fought for, the world where no sorcerer shall ever know fear or pain; it's just a reach away.

The only thing standing between you is Okkotsu Yuuta and his rabid lover. Once she was Suguru's? You expect nothing more than cowardice from those higher-ups.

"I'll keep her away from you," you tell him as you roll your shoulders. Watching as Yuuta slices through the storm of Suguru's curses with his sword. "You focus on him." The ground beneath you is blackened, spindly legs and antennas emerge just as Yuuta lands on the lamp post. His gaze on you is nothing short of murderous.

"It seems like he'll make this worthwhile, Su-Su."

"I expect nothing less. Stay sharp, my love."

You nod, your breath coming out in dark flames as you prepare to ensure your daughters will no longer know the injustice they were born into.

The fight is fast. The four of you are in that tight space of the corridors. Rika growls and snarls as she slices at you while you keep her away from Suguru and Yuuta. She's furious, screeching for you to get away while you use your flames as a barrier. The heat causes sweat to bead down Yuuta's temple and Suguru laughs at him.

"My husband's impressive, isn't he?"

"Shut up!" His sword comes into contact with Playful Cloud. When it shatters, your victory is so close now that both of you can taste it.

Suguru shielded you from what he can, but it's a vain effort. You're draped on his back, breath coming out in shallow inhales and exhales.

"S...s'guru." He hmms in acknowledgment, leaning against the wall as he tries to catch his breath. "It was a glorious fight," you whisper. "It was, my love. It was..."

His knees buckle, so you tighten your grip on him and he assures you he's alright. Suguru hears footsteps and without even looking at him, he knows that Satoru has arrived.

"Late as usual," Suguru teases.

Satoru lifts you from Suguru's back, carrying you in his arms as Suguru slides down the wall, resting on his haunches as he stares up at Satoru.

You're in bad shape. Just like he was. Your back is nearly charred, your right hand gone and bloodied. Satoru's jaw sets as your eyes flutter open, his brows tightening as you whisper his name.

"You're here, 'Toru."

He crouches down, setting you on Suguru's lap. He balances you out, nuzzling into your face as your hand reaches to grab what you can. The rings on your fingers, glimmering under the setting sun, cause Satoru to kneel before you.

"Of course, I am, my beloved." When he holds your face, it's gentle and sweet.

It's unfair how the last time he held both of you ended in an argument, the last time you talked was when Suguru announced war.

He leans in, kissing your bloodied lips and doing the same to Suguru.

One last time, it doesn't quite register in your mind that this would be the last time you'd see your Satoru and Suguru. Your daughters, oh your poor daughters.

"...Are there any last words you'd like to say?"

Suguru chuckles while you sigh, eyelids growing heavy as your lungs breathe out black smoke. You're warm. Too warm. Suguru clutches you closer, every breath he feels on his skin feels like a grain of sand falling.

"At least, curse us a little at the end," Suguru chuckles out. "Satoru, Suguru...I," your whisper fades off.

Your head grows heavier and Suguru glances down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"(Y/N)...(Y/N)...? Beloved — " You feel Suguru dig his nails into your sides and Satoru's hand on your face.

Then it goes dark.

"There's something different about him," Maki mumbles as she motions to Satoru. Yuuta, Inumaki, and Panda turn to watch him. Classes had finished a long while ago, it went along like it usually did. Satoru was his exuberant self — with awful explanations that raise more questions than it does answers.

"Really?" Panda scratches his ears, "He seems like his usual self."

"Well, he does seem a bit more quiet lately," Yuta mumbles. Inumaki nods, voicing his agreement.

"What are you kids doing here? It's late." The students flinch, surprised at the sight of Shoko as she emerged from the goddamn shadows. "Dinners getting cold. Go ahead."

As they rush off, Shoko meanders her way towards Satoru. He's sat in that obnoxious chair, head tilted up at the ceiling as his hands toy with the matching rings in his pockets.

She settles next to him, leaning to stare at the ceiling as well.

"You can't keep him a secret forever." Shoko sighs. "Why didn't you exorcise him?"

"His wounds were already too great, I didn't..."

The ceiling is an ever-shifting mirror, a distorted mess of flames and eyes as you groan. Your form isn't quite there yet, knowing just when it's best to hide away and keep away from the eyes of other sorcerers.

What else did Satoru expect from his husband? An intelligent Cursed Spirit, tied loyally to his side.

"When they find out?" Shoko inquires.

"I won't let them take him from me again."

[girlystories]

Two sides on the same coin

— pairings: Joseph Descamps x ex-rebellious reader

summary: you get expelled from your all girls school after an incident you get yourself into. cutting all ties with your troublesome friends, your parents send you to voltaire lycée in hopes you change your ways. an annoying prick, though, gets in the way of that, making you constantly on the verge of breaking your promise to your parents.

additional warnings: underage smoking, usage of foul language, mention of boobs ig?

authors note: very creative chapter title, ik. also really sorry for this late update, but i honestly don't haven't any excuse. it's finally here so I hope you enjoy. also i added a character from another movie cuz i can.

words: 3.9k

Chapter 1: The bastard with the dumb glasses

[Name] [Last Name] certainly wasn't expecting her first day to occur like this.

She fell down on her knees next to the wounded boy, who held on his left eye. He was whimpering in pain, making it obvious the punch he took to the face was serious.

Placing a hand on his back, she tried to receive any attention from him. She called out his name but didn't get an answer. Blood was dripping from between his fingers and his groaning increased before she was pulled away from him.

...

Lumière Lycée was nothing but a memory now, all what happened there only for the driven girl to want go remember, whenever she even wanted to. If she wanted to. She couldn't lie to herself and say it was a good time. On the contrary, it was a living hell for her. It wasn't a catholic school, but it was somehow aiming towards it.

She'd gotten in trouble one, two, three, or more times. Times she couldn't even keep track of.

Not that it even mattered now. No one would know of her past, her previous troublesome and somewhat rebellious nature in a place for her old school and only herself. It was a year ago from now, certainly she'd have changed from then. Or, in better words, she wanted to mask it deep inside. She promised it to her parents.

Moving schools meant moving overall, but she was sure she'd get used to the new environment sooner or later. Voltaire Lycée, the only academy daring to take things further and expand into a mixed school containing both boys and girls. Such a big change, things were seemingly passing so fast. It was the only thing the newspapers and radio were discussing about all day long for the past three days.

She was now brushing her hair, styling it while in her bathrobe. She added a small touch of makeup on her lashes, in a effort not to seem as tired from sleeping late the earlier day. Her anxiety forbid her from it. To bring some sort of color to her lips, she applied some chapstick. She didn't want to impress anybody, but didn't want to stand out by appearing like some sort of messy girl. That'd make a horrible impression. She opted to blend in with everybody else, which wasn't as easy since she was expected as one of the other few new girls. She'd stand out either way. How many girls would even attend that school anyway?

Either way, she hoped for a change. From having more than fifty absences, five to nine out of twelve marks, constantly snapping at her other classmates and breaking into fights, to becoming a lady with a future ahead of her.

There was a knock on her bedroom door, "[Name]," a soft voice called from behind it, "are you ready yet? Your father could give you a ride to school."

"No, it's okay," she got up from her chair, giving a last look at herself from her mirror. "I'd lather walk on my first day."

Her mother nodded and left without a word, leaving her to finish in getting ready.

[Name] opened her wardrobe, inspecting her clothes and in the end decided upon a matching set of a top and short skirt that she tried out the day before. Before leaving her room she wore her pair of Mary-Jane's.

She headed to her kitchen, where her parents were already awake, eating their breakfast before work. She took a seat and took a sip of her prepared coffe. "Good morning," she said.

Her father swallowed his own coffe before speaking, "Good morning. How do you feel about your new school?"

"Rather anxious."

"No wonder," her mother said. "A mixed school? It's a much troublesome shift from what we're used too. Wouldn't you agree, dear?"

Her dad finished his coffe, placing his mug down. "Well, we do what we can do. If only you would behave, [Name]."

"[Father name], " her mother glanced at him with knotted brows. "Don't start again."

He ignored her warnings, "Now make sure to get your shit together or else things will be really complicated. I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart."

"I know," [Name] simply said.

Her mother still kept an eye on her husband and sighed, turning her attention at her daughter. "Now you have a nice day, okay? Be home right after school or if you want stop by the bakery."

[Name] finished her butter bread, taking her bag as she got up and went to the front door.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she got interrupted. Internally groaning, she went back and kissed her parents on the cheek.

"Alright, bye," she finally said and left.

Since it was still early, she stopped at her neighborhood supermarket to buy herself a pack of Gauloises, thanking the owner and lighting one while on her way. Just then she realized she didn't know the way.

Minutes later she regretted not accepting her parents' offer to drive her to school. Cursing under her breath at her possibility of being late on her first day, she kept her fast pase as she took a turn on the street she thought the school was located.

To her utter luck, she was right. When she noticed the front gate inspector closing the door she jogged there yelling for him stop. He rose his head towards her, earning his attention.

He threw his cigarette, chuckling softly. "Lucky for you, it's your first day, miss, otherwise I'd have left you locked outside," he said and opened the gate for her.

"Sorry, it won't happen again..." she breathed out.

"Well, they haven't made their way inside. Mr. Belanger is giving a speech."

"Thanks," she said and walked hurrily where everyone stood.

On top of the building's stairs stood the school staff, the students surprisingly listening from bellow. She shoved herself between the crowd to catch a word he was saying.

"-Gentlemen, I expect you to...to be as polite, respectful, magnanimous and dignified as I know you can...when on your best behavior."

"Who is that?" she asked herself.

"The school's Dean," she wasn't really expecting an answer, yet a guy replied from beside her.

She nodded at him, staying silent for a moment before talking again. "Damn, I don't even know in what class I am."

"Don't worry. They'll call your name anyway."

Just then, a woman walked forward, holding a sheet or paper. "I'll now be calling the first-year's, then proceed the second year's due to the addition of female students."

"Just like that," he smirked and Mr. Bluebeard began reading the paper.

[Name] breathed out a sigh of relief. "Good. Because I was afraid of almost getting detention from being late."

He let out a laugh, "On your first day? There's no way a person could achieve that record. Not even me. I can assure you I've tried. I don't think you get detention from being late."

"No," she said. "I said almost. Wait, what do you mean y-"

The call of her name interrupted her question.

"That's your name, right? Seems like you're in class 1B."

"Oh, yeah," she said looking as some other students walked up the starts when their names were called. "See you."

She took a seat behind two girls, and as she did so smiled at them when they seemed to acknowledged her. Little by little everyone gathered in class, each taking their seats.

The woman that was calling out the students from before walked in. "I am Mrs. Giraud, your homeroom teacher."

Then, a girl with blonde hair entered the class, eyeing the empty seats anxiously. She had her hair styled with a headband that matched her dress which was beautifully complimenting her figure. It was no surprise everyone was looking at her with either admiration or a tint of desire.

She took a seat at a desk in the front, and [Name] felt somehow disappointed she didn't choose to sit next to her instead.

Mrs. Giraud noticed her gesture. "What's your name miss?"

She got up from her seat, holding her hands together politely. "Annick Sabiani."

"Where do you think you are, miss Sabiani?"

She didn't get enough time to respond at her question.

"Do you think it's okay to sit next to a boy?" she asked sternly. "Get your things."

She began doing so, but Mrs. Giraud interrupted her again. "No. You," she pointed towards the boy next to her. He looked at her for a moment and she continued, "Get up. Go sit in the back."

"But I can't see from there."

"Back row, now," she then looked at [Name], realizing she failed in noticing her presence before. "And what's your name, miss?"

She got up, awkwardly looking around the class and trying to ignore the stares. "[Name] [Last name]."

"You sit in the front."

She gathered her bag and did as she was told, still feeling the stares accompanied with whistling sounds and whispers. The boy tried to do the same, but someone put his foot in the way. That made him trip and almost fall, the group of boys laughing and making pig noises. "It's not your day, piggy."

The teacher did nothing about it, only complaining about being interrupted. "Quiet! As I was saying... Mrs. Giraud, with a "D" as in "discipline.""

[Name] wasn't listening what she was saying anymore, glancing at the person who was at fault of tripping the poor guy. He was grinning at his friend beside him, finding it wholehearted hilarious, like it was comedy gold. He fixed his glasses before he pretending he was paying attention to Mrs. Giraud. Instead he wrote a note and showed it next to him, the duo starting cackling quietly.

Next period was Latin, where she was met with Mr. Douillard. She ultimately ended up not having a really good idea about him, earning already a bad impression by him ignoring the girls when they raised their hand. She grew more and more annoyed when he pretended not to noticed her and she just stopped trying. Sabiani did not back down, though. Still, Mr. Douillard picked the only guy that had raised his hand.

"I think she raised her hand," the same guy with the glasses pointed out in a snarky tone. He pressed his lips together to hold himself from laughing.

Much to the teachers dismay of having to pick a girl student, he side-eyed Sabiani. "Indeed. So?"

She pushed her chair back, fixing her dress. "The Romans welcome Horatio with joy and congratulations and escort him to his house."

"The Romans "cheer" Horatio," he corrected, obviously not wanting to lower to the level of ever praising a girl, wanting to dismiss their existence entirely. "Can you conjugate the verb "ovare"?"

As Sabiani was answering, [Name] noticed the guy from before writing something on a paper, giving it to the person next to him and whispering something. The note was passed down until the teacher noticed.

"Give me that," he ordered, interrupting Sabiani.

The poor guy sighed and stood up walking up to the teacher and handing the note. From where [Name] sat she couldn't see anything but by the expression of Mr. Douillard she could tell it wasn't good.

The unlucky person sighed and stood up walking up to the teacher and handing the note. [Name] knew of him. He was Alain Laubrac, a guy who happened to be in the same gang she used to hang out last year. She stopped hanging out with them after her expulsion, when she was grounded all summer, cutting all ties with them thankfully. She hadn't spoke to him since like the rest. From where she sat she couldn't see anything but by the expression of Mr. Douillard she could tell it wasn't good.

"Think this is funny?"

"It wasn't me."

"Who is responsible for this masterpiece?"

No answer. The guy who drew it pretended he didn't know a thing, placing his pen under his bottom lip.

"Your name?"

"It wasn't me," Alain repeated.

"'It wasn't me'," Mr. Douillard sighed, "All culprits have the same name. They must be related. Okay, Mr. 'It wasn't me'...'"

"My name is Laubrac," he corrected.

"Are you the boy from the foster care?"

The whole class chuckled at that.

"Some nobody's son's trying to graduate? How amusing. Didn't anyone teach you discipline in the care system? I won't let a bastard disrupt my class. Get out."

"But he didn't do anything!" a girl with blond pigtails protested.

"Nobody taught you to raise your hand in your girls' school, Miss Magnan? Or maybe you think you have a free pass because your uncle is the Dean," the teacher mocked, hitting the paper on his palm. "Escort your new friend to your uncle's office. He'll give you detention too."

They both left the room with their heads low, the class filled with silence.

[Name] bit the inside of her mouth, raising a hand.

"Yes, miss?" the teacher complained.

"With all due respect, sir, but you're being really unfair," she said. Mr. Douillard was taked aback and she continued before he interrupted. "It was Picasso over there who did it," she eyed the glasses-guy from the back.

The smile he wore dissappeared, now glaring at her and preparing to argue something back.

"You've got a nerve talking to me like that, miss [Last Name]," the teacher said. "Don't think I haven't been informed of your performance in your past school. I'm not afraid to get you expelled here too."

The class suddenly filled with murmurs.

"Unless you want detention as well I advice you to sit back down."

She looked down and without having anything else to say she sat on her chair. Her grip on her pen tightened when she looked back and seeing the guy still stare at her, slowly forming a winning smirk.

Bastard, she thought.

Finally lunch came, and she exhaled a sigh of relief as she stood up from her seat, an instant need to stretch her body overtaking her. She only wanted to smoke as soon as possible, the necessity of nicotine calling out to her from not being present for a while. She closed her notebook and walked out the classroom as soon as there was space for her to walk through the students.

She walked down the big row of starts, avoiding in pushing the boy in front of her, but still having trouble keeping her patience.

Just as she was about to turn a corner she felt her face being hit with a flat surface, being jolted back.

"Woah, what's the rush?" she felt an arm on her shoulder and was met with a silly smile. It was the guy from earlier in the morning.

"Sorry," she said, feeling embarrassed. She allowed herself to groan, feeling free from expressing her feelings. Even in front of this guy she just met. "I just couldn't stay in that room anymore."

"I didn't know class 1B was that far off," he joked.

"You know anyone from there?"

"Certainly. I could name quite a few if you ask me."

"Ugh, then I'm sure you know. Speaking of, in what class did you end up?"

He placed a hand in his pocket. "2B," he smiled. "If my last name was different we could've been in the same class. Maybe then the school year wouldn't be so bad."

"Yeah, talk about luck," she played along his playful attitude. She didn't know where he was getting at, but he was at least tolerable. "Oh, hey, we haven't met properly before."

"You're right," he extended his palm, smiling at her. "Mick Travis."

She replied with her name, shaking his hand. "Mick Travis? Is that French or..."

"I'm originally from Britain, but I've moved here for a while. I don't know for how long but I'll do what I can in the meantime. Second year in this school and I can't wait to get out of here."

"Did something happen last year?"

"It's a long story," he said simply, changing the subject. "So, where are you headed?"

In the end they sat at a bench, under a tree to avoid the bright sun from blinding their eyes and having to constantly squint at each other. Travis sat sideways, his one leg crossed while the other was extended freely, his head resting on his palm, the other holding his cigarette.

[Name] lazily looked up at the tree as the wind moved it's leafs, making her almost fall asleep. "Are they gotta tell us something for not going to eat?"

"Hell no, I'm sure they know how ass the food is anyway. We're just saving our lives at the moment."

She hummed, putting out her finished cigarette.

"So," he adjusted his head, in a way to look at her. "What do you think of this school?"

"I don't know. But I hope this year passes quickly. Last year was the worst year of my life."

This peacked his interest. "How so?"

"Long story," she laughed when she realized he responded the same way before. "Maybe I'll tell you if I skip a class."

"Fine."

Break ended too quickly for [Name] to enjoy and she dragged her feet to class, with Travis having to sometimes push her while she groaned in annoyance.

She walked inside, making eyecontact with Sabiani and giving her a look of "I can't stand being here already." The poor girl only giving her a sympathetic smile in response.

She was about to sleep on her desk, when a commotion made her raise her head to see what was going on. Descamps and his friends – whatever their names were, she didn't even bother to know – were making a fuss over something, and she noticed quickly a bucket filled with water behind the door. Descamps grabbed it and attempted to place it on top of the door, ordering one of his friends to keep watch from outside in the process.

The class did nothing, and so did [Name]. It took her a while to realize that a prank was happening, so whoever were to walk in would get drenched in that dirty bucket water. She rose from her seat, throwing her chair back and scaring Sabiani from beside her. She did promise not to act out, in hopes of not getting unwanted attention from the teachers, but she had enough from that Latin teacher anyway. She wouldn't let anyone stop her now.

She walked up to him, pushing him and making him almost spill the water. He narrowed his eyes at her, before he flashed her a cocky smile. "What's that? Didn't you learn your lesson from getting expelled from your last school? Are you planning on doing the same thing here?"

She clenched her jaw at the nerve he had. He didn't even know of her, yet acted better than her. "I'll get expelled for this? You're the one putting a bucket on top of the damn door."

She felt a hand grabbing her wrist and she turned around. "Don't get involved, just continue sleeping on your desk like you were before," it was one of Descamps friends.

She snatched her hand away, "Don't touch me." Turning her attention back at the vile glasses-wearing guy, she attempted to take the bucket away from him, only for him to raise it over her head, mocking her in the process. She would've been intimidated by his height, but she was already used to scarier guys from last year. Descamps laughed at her unsuccessful attempts, then motioned something to his friend. He got the memo and held back [Name] by restraining her.

"Let me down!" she yelled, but they ignored her, finally Descamps putting the damn bucket where he planned from the beginning. She looked at the rest of the class, everyone doing nothing about the whole thing and staying silent in their seats. She made eyecontact with Laubrac, her eyes seeking for his help. He only looked away, hiding his shame.

The victim of the prank was Magnan, as the water completely covered her from head to toe. Her braids were starting to fall apart from her cute style. Her frozen body left in shock as she looked around the class, everyone watching her without reaction. [Name] felt shame when she realized the water made the fabric on her chest area visible, being stuck on her skin.

Descamps and his friends were the only ones breaking the silence in the room, chuckling to themselves and breaking out laughing, [Name] being no longer being held back.

Suddenly he swallowed hard and composed himself at the sight of Mrs. Couret. He looked at her nervously and placed both his hands in his pockets.

Mrs. Couret was in shock at first, but acted quickly, taking of her jacket and putting it around Magnan. She ordered [Name] and Sabiani to look over the class, but they knew that with both of them combined they couldn't control Descamps and his dumb crew. Moments later, they exited the classroom, headed to the nurses office.

If that wasn't enough, Descamps even drew on the chalkboard, being a picture of who she assumed was Magnan, her chest area being the most prominent. [Name] was about to go off again, but Sabiani grabbed her wrist instead, shaking her head at her to tell her to stop. After a bit of contemplating she backed down. Before she could even sigh in disappointment, a senior barged inside the classroom.

He pushed a guy from his way and swing at one of the guys that indulged in the "prank". Sabiani yelled at them to stop but it escalated even worse. Descamps went to defend him, and this lead to him being hit. In the eye area. Next thing she knew, he was kneeled to the ground. Everything had happened so fast, [Name] was frozen in place.

Without thinking she fell next to him, trying to get a look at his injury. It was pretty hard to do so, as he pressed onto his left eye, his back slouching more and more as he couldn't contain his pain anymore. His groans made him so he couldn't hear the girl from beside him, but the warm touch on his shaking body comforted him even for a bit.

[Name] felt herself suddenly being pushed back, and she calmed herself when she realized it was the Dean.

"Let me see," he said, crouching to Descamps' level.

"My eye...! I can't see..."

"Don't touch it okay? Can you stand up?" when he nodded, he helped him get up. He then ordered Pichon to get the nurse, but she was already there.

"He's got some glass in his eye," Mr. Belanger said softly at his wife, as she placed a hand on his back and led him outside, mentioning something about taking him to the hospital.

"Get back to your class!" he yelled at the students that were watching from outside the door. "Dupin, take your seat. Jean-Pierre, my office. You two, put the chairs back. You wipe that off. And you, clean that now!" he looked at the rest of the class, his piercing look sending shivers down [Name]'s spine. "Everyone else, take your seats!" he ordered and the tone of his voice made everyone do so without question. "Quietly!"

He sighed, "I'll leave you to it, Miss Couret," he said, giving a last look to the teacher that had just arrived before storming off.

The rest of the day seemed to pass way slower that before.

tagging: @kpoploverxx-12 @puchosdementa @tropicalheart13 @luvmacyyyy @aiuragf @idontlikemonday @helchronicles @bubblegum-bitchhhhhhhhh @visndcaitswhore @blueberryblood11 @remusmuse @pookayyyyy @blvckdress @lirominissss @issoais-blog @murxhavia @b3l1z8 @nikkoiiii @beau-min

©ssnowville ©snowville

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 11

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, homophobic slang

Part 1

Billy slammed his bedroom door after yet another fight with his dad. His father wasn't keen on his son skipping school and being a victim of a brutal attack wasn't a good enough excuse. He pulled out his phone dialing Stu's number. It rang and it rang which was unusual. No one answered. 'Maybe he wasn't home?' Billy wondered quickly realizing Stu had no place to go. He dialed again hearing the mind numbing ring. Finally Stu picked up.

"Hello?" A woman spoke. "Uhm is Stu there?" The voice on the end belonged to his mother. A person Billy only met twice. "No, Stu went... Oh shit honey where did Stu go? What's his little girlfriend's name?" Billy listened closely trying to hear all of the conversation. He could barley make out a man's voice in the back which he assumed was Stu's father. "No not that one she died remember." Billy raised his eyebrows in surprise. Even he wasn't that insensitive and he murdered her. "Y/n, Stu is staying at Y/n's." Staying?

Billy laughed nervously. "No I don't think I heard you right ma'am. Did you say "staying?"" She rubbed her forehead wanting to hang up on the strange child. "Yes he moved out while we do renovations. Goodbye now." The line died leaving Billy to piece all this together. It was almost laughable. He managed to lose the only two people he cared about on this horrible planet and both of them were probably fucking without saying so much as one word to him. Billy grabbed his things deciding to pay you and Stu a visit.

The drive back to your place was nice. He had a plan and things always ran smoother with a plan. He parked a block down the street deciding to walk the rest of the way. Your bedroom light was on making it easy for people like Billy to see into your life. He was ready for the worst. Maybe he'd break in like a scorned lover and kill the both of you. It'd be poetic but it would easily trace back to him. With your fragile little heart it'd probably stop knowing you'd been caught.

He lifted the binoculars he brought up adjusting the lenses so he could see. You walked into the room wearing some nightgown that resembled something he's sure his grandmother wore. You were holding a bowl handing it to Stu who sat on the floor. Once you sat down you were completely out of view. Billy cursed under his breath as he thought up a new plan.

"You can't hog the m&ms asshole." You threw a blue one which he caught like a seal. Stu raised his eyebrows surprised he actually caught it. "I'm impressed." You clapped and he did a half bow sitting on the floor. "This is one of my favorite's." You said pointing towards the movie that just started. Stu rolled his eyes. "Everything is your favorite." He passed you the bowl of candy. "What is this again?" Stu asked only paying attention to long haired actor.

"Benny and Joon. I saw it when it came out with my ex." Stu was interested in that story but he let it go knowing how much you wanted to watch your movie. "Billy should grow his hair out like that." Stu said before he popped a handful of candy in his mouth showing you the mashed up contents. "Why are you so nasty?" He laughed looking back towards the TV. "No, long haired boys have too much power over me. He keeps playing though I'm going to buzz off what hair he does have."

You were oblivious to the man in your home and Billy was scared for you. No wonder you needed someone to protect you. The key was still in the same place it was Saturday after they left your house. He wished he could relive that day. Billy heard his name so he stopped moving trying to hear what Stu was saying. He thought you were furious at him but you talked about him like he was still your friend.

Stu laughed. "In that case I'll grow mine out." He was only half joking. "I think you could pull it off. Grow it too long though you run the risk of looking like Shaggy form Scooby Doo." You teased tossing a m&m up letting your friend catch it. "I'll keep it like it is then. I have thought about dyeing it though." You squinted picturing him with different colored hair. "What color?" Stu scratched his head in thought. "White or maybe frosted tips." You cringed at the thought of frosted tips. "Fuck I'll make sure never to play poker with you. Damn." He laughed at the obvious face you made.

Billy crept up the stairs just enough to be able to see in your room. "Oh shhh. I think blonde hair would look good on you but frosted tips is just too gay even for you." He gasped as he brought his hand up to his forehead like he was about to faint. "Yeah you're probably right." He dropped the act eating more candy. "Besides once we graduate we'll pack our shit and leave. You could dye your hair whatever color you want. What's your opinion on cottages?"

You sat on the bed with a big bowl of candy while Stu sat in the floor at the end of the bed. Billy was relieved and a little disappointed there was no sinful act happening. Where did this leave him though? Were you both just waiting for him to make a move? You didn't tell him how to fix things and that bothered the hell out of him.

"You're worried about frosted tips being gay but you want me to live in a cottage with you? I might as well wrestle naked with Billy outside just to show off to the neighbors." You pursed your lips. "Include baby oil and I'll be there." Stu laughed scrunching his face. "You are an absolute freak. Me too." You both laughed eventually focusing back on the movie.

It was nice to know Stu was still his usual self but it was odd seeing you adapt to who you were around. The baby oil comment which Billy did not want to unpack is something you'd never say to his face. You were carefree around Stu and it felt like for the first time since he met you he was seeing who you actually were.

"Someone's at the door." Stu said pausing the VCR. You groaned knowing Billy was showing back up to either kill you or try some stupid attempt of convincing you that you need him. "I'll get it. Stay up here I don't want a fight." Stu nodded laying back on your floor. You walked to the front door trying to prepare yourself for whatever was about to happen. "What do you want Billy?" Billy had a small window of time to back out.

"May I come in?" He asked and you knew he was about to put on an Oscar worthy performance. "You may." You said bemused as you moved out of the way letting him in. "Can you tell Stu to come down here I need to talk to him too." Your blood ran cold. Billy knew and you were both likely dead. "How'd you know?" The door locked in placed once you shut it. "I called his house and his mom picked up." You sighed nodding your head. "Hey Stu, can you come down here?" You called out worried for the both of you.

Stu was terrified. He felt like a child in trouble. The walk of shame down the steps was especially embarrassing seeing Billy at the end of them. "Hey Stu." He said sending the boy a small smile. Your new roommate shot you a look saying something along the lines of "what the fuck?" Billy knew he had to choose his words very carefully. "Um can you both just sit down for a second?" Oh yeah the cops were sure to find you and Stu tomorrow.

Both you and Stu sat on the couch looking at your friend stand in front of you. "I'll be the first to say I'm not good at this." He looked to the floor only looking up once Stu spoke. "No kidding." He joked but you looked at him with eyes that could only tell him to shut up. Billy chuckled before talking again. "I'm sorry." You analyzed those two words over and over in your head. They sounded genuine but they couldn't be coming from Billy, could they? "I am sorry for what I did to both of you. Stu I'm most ashamed about what I've done to you."

Billy was walking on eggshells here. His eyes darted over at you reading you expression. You weren't mad. Stu has suffered Billy's wrath way longer than you've known him. "I really do care about you, I'm just scared of what people think about me. I hate the way people stare at us when we're out in public it makes me want to peel my skin off. I shouldn't take that out on you or make you feel as awful as I do. So I really am sorry." Billy's words worked on Stu you saw it in real time. You still couldn't figure out what was genuine and what was bullshit.

"Y/n." It was a good start but how was he going to finish it? The moment he tried to put the blame on someone other than himself you swore you'd beat his ass. You and Stu would have a body to dispose of. "I was and still am a horrible person. I never once thought about how you felt or how what I did affected you because I never cared." It hurt but it was honest. The way kids stared and whispered about him today, he couldn't begin to imagine what you went through on a daily basis.

"I'm going to change." You laughed dryly turning your head away from him. Billy dropped to his knees in front of you holding your hands in his. You were losing. He knew what he was doing and it was working. "I'm going to get better because I can't imagine a world without you and Stu in it. I know you can make it on your own but I can't. I need you a million times more than you need me and I know that. Not just to cook or clean but I need you to squeeze my arm when you watch a scary movie. I need you to call me out on my shit when I'm obviously spinning a story my way."

"I need you Y/n." Stu looked at Billy never seeing him open up like this. "You don't even know me." You quipped trying to be the voice of reason. Billy's voice cracked as he spoke. "Then teach me. I'll take notes if you want me to. This whole thing was to start over. We could bump into each other somewhere and we will meet for the first time all over again. I just need you Y/n, whatever version you give me I'll be happy to have." You lost. "Will you two excuse me for a moment?" You politely stood up going up stairs to your bathroom. Shutting the door you then turned on the faucet to full blast. The sink was going and eventually so was the tub. "Is she running water?" Billy asked worried he had done something wrong. You screamed so loud Stu honest to God thought the neighbors would call the cops. "Is she okay?" Billy asked standing up to go check on you. Stu stuck his arm out stopping him. "She does this."

You calmly returned, both the boys worried you might pass out from the length of the screams. "What do you want?" You asked Billy as you leaned on the door frame. "What do you mean?" This time he just wanted your forgiveness. He wanted to try again. "I accepted your apology. What do you want from us? Do you want us to go upstairs so we can some a threesome or are you actually wanting to figure this out?" It was sarcastic but you saw the brief second of consideration pass your friends faces. "I want us to be friends again at least. Did you know some bitches sat at our water fountain today?" He looked at Stu starting a whole new conversation. "Are they blind we sit there everyday?"

You snapped grabbing their attention. "I'm not fucking around. If we do this we do it right. I'm not getting hurt again and if I do I'm cutting someone's balls off." Stu put his finger to the tip of his nose quickly. "Not it!" He shouted making Billy smack his arm. "Ow man I was joking." He wasn't joking. "Am I understood?" The boys looked at each other not sure if they should feel this way about you right now. "Understood." Billy said as Stu echoed him. "Great! Now who wants dinner?"

Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp

Part 12

A/N: I am absolutely in shock by how much love this series is getting. I just wanted to let everyone know that the taglist is now closed. Thank you all so much for being so kind and supportive. 💕

(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul Halloween Special 2024

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Halloween Special

            “We’re gonna dress up as scary stuff?” Angel looked at Charlie. “You do remember we’re in Hell, right?”

            “Yeah, but you don’t have to be scary! This is for fun,” said Charlie excitedly. “We’ll listen to fun music and eat candy, and it’ll be awesome.”

            “No thanks,” said Husk. “I don’t play dress up.”

            “Come on, I swear it’ll be fun,” said Charlie. “We’ll have music and dancing and food—”

            “I’ll do it,” said Vaggie, smiling.

            Charlie smiled. “Thanks, Babe.”

            “Is Halloween good for Hazbin Hotel and reforming sinners?” said (Y/N).

            “Of course,” said Charlie. “Instead of actually being scary and horrifying, we’re good!”

            “My parents always said Halloween was satanic, so it might not be good,” said (Y/N).

            “…Kid, your parents suck,” said Angel, looking at them. First Pride, now Halloween? They really did have a strict religious upbringing. He grinned at them. “Time for you to rebel some more from them.”

            “That’s really not what we’re going for, Angel,” said Vaggie.

            “(Y/N) is stuck in bad thinking. Aren’t you supposed to help with that?” said Angel.

            “Yes!” said Charlie firmly. She grinned. “We can have a good time without being satanic or demonic or whatever, and Halloween can be fun.”

            “Of course it can be!” Alastor appeared out of nowhere. “Why, Halloween was my favorite night to strike! The fear, the screams, what a fun evening!”

            “That’s really not—”

            Alastor ignored Vaggie and looked at (Y/N). “We must get you a proper costume. I’m sure Rosie is looking to dress you up again.”

            (Y/N) brightened. They liked Rosie. “You think she would help?”

            “Of course,” said Alastor, steering (Y/N) by the shoulders towards the doors. “I’ll take you to Cannibal Town and then organize the party.”

            “Thanks for your help, Alastor!” said Charlie, grinning.

            “I still think we should be concerned that he gives (Y/N) so much attention,” said Vaggie.

            “His only friend is a cannibal. This could be good for him, being around someone sweet like (Y/N),” said Charlie.

            “Or bad for (Y/N),” said Angel. He looked at Husk. “Do you know what he wants with them?”

            “He hasn’t gone for a deal yet, so I’m not sure,” said Husk.

            “I think it’s sweet,” said Charlie.

            “Alastor is still Alastor,” said Husk firmly. “He just…”

            “He’s weird; (Y/N)’s weird; we’re all weird,” said Angel.

            Husk gestured to Angel. “Yeah, whatever, that. Who can understand it?”

l

            “Everything looks so good!” said Charlie excitedly. She wore a fake mustache and a striped grey and black suit (Gomez Addams).

            “It turned out well,” agreed Vaggie, wearing a form-fitting black dress (Morticia Addams).

            Charlie grinned and hugged Vaggie. “Thanks for setting it up.” She looked at Alastor. “And thank you for the music. I wish you’d worn a costume, though.”

            “I don’t have a need to,” said Alastor with his usual grin. “Costumes are silly.”

            “Not when they make someone look this good,” said Angel, posing by the bar. He wore a playboy bunny outfit.

            “Um, Angel, this was supposed to be fun—”

            “Charlie, Halloween parties are for people to dress up sexy,” said Angel. He winked. “I’m upholdin’ tradition.”

            “He’s not wrong,” said Vaggie. She had died in the twenty-first century, and that was still true.

            “Don’t expect much from me. I just threw on what I could find,” said Husk. He had on a purple and raspberry suit with voodoo runes written on cards. Vaggie felt like he reminded her of a character from a movie in New Orleans…But she couldn’t place her finger on t.

            “Can I clean yet?” said Niffty, bouncing up and down in her French maid costume (what else would she wear?).

            “The party has barely begun,” said Charlie, smiling. “And (Y/N) isn’t here.”

            Speaking of the young demon, the front door of the hotel opened, and (Y/N) walked in. Rosie had definitely enjoyed herself dressing them up.

            They wore a red beaded dress with tassels that swished as they moved. A feather was pinned gently amongst their red rose-hair, they wore black gloves, and they had on heels. Obviously, Rosie had taken great pride in dressing them up as a 1920s flapper. (And Rosie had done it because she knew her friend would enjoy seeing his protégé in his time period’s outfit. (Y/N) was an adorable teenager, in her opinion).

            “I’m back,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “Did Rosie and I do the costume right?”

            “You look so good!” said Charlie.

            “Nice, kid,” said Angel, grinning.

            “There’s only one thing wrong with it,” said Alastor.

            Everyone looked at him. Alastor snapped his finger, and the music playing over the radio switched to proper swing music from his era.

            “A dancer should have the right music,” said Alastor. And, with his usual energy, he pulled (Y/N) onto the dancefloor.

            (Y/N) smiled widely and tried to copy his movements to learn the dances properly.

            The other residents of the hotel watched. They were back at the question at hand: was Alastor rubbing off on (Y/N) or were they rubbing off on him? This was a normal Alastor thing to do (he’d pulled Charlie into who-knew-how-many dances at this point), but it was also more…genuine, perhaps, with (Y/N).

            And (Y/N), the kid with the terrible parents who thought they were nothing more than a sinner at times, had a giant smile on their face and a growing confidence when it came to facing all those around them, no matter how powerful.

Taglist:

@kyalov

@pandaquick

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@jaytheaceenby

@paastaboi

@bettybabys

@gxdoesstuff

@grippleback-galaxy

@just-here-reading

@dmitrytherat

@a-small-tyrant

@marxo5

@rory-cakes

@andsoigotabutterfly

@theblueslytherin

@romyoia

@ray-rook

@thereeallink

@pandaquick

@funkyexistence

@theyaremorethanjustfictional

@lanxianschoenheit

@justyourfriendlyneighbourhood1

@ringsofpersonti

@futureittomainn

@enderpearltv

@oo0lady-mad0oo

@falsemain

@a-huge-bi-nerd

@lost-in-the-hellaverse

@tagthetrekkie

@amberforest08

@picklehat3r

@lunalixya

@rl800

@crystal-freak24

@deadgirldreaming

@elaemae

@im-making-an-effort

@kitkatlover015

@snowy-violet

[pinyeti]

EPISODE 6: RETURN OF THE JEDI

Is it just me or have they just not explained the Death Star properly?

I cant take Darthy seriously anymore, he’s just a bag of organs 

Whats quirrel doing here

OMG ELEPHANT SNAKE IS BACK

Isnt this that old caterpillar from Alice n wonfderlad

WOW LUKE REALLY SUITED UP FOR HIS MESSAGE- DID HE JUST SELL???? GOLDENFACE AN R2-oh right Hans in the carbon - way to go to the dark side Luke, triangular droid trade YOU ARE YOUR FATHERS SON LUKE 

So much of Star Wars is just running into the problem with a glowstick and hoping it dies

Wow hansolo has been imprisoned, thrown into garbage, tortured, thrown into carbon, imprisoned AGAIN all cuz he has can’t shut my mouth disease

What even is their relationship with Luke btw, are they his adopted fWOAH WOAH WOAH WHEN DID LUKE TURN INTO A MAN??? Last I saw he was a child who couldn’t get a plane out of a lake AND THEY LEFT THE LAST MOVIE WITH ALL OF THTEM BEING TOGETHER wow the text in the beginning is more important than I thought 

No seriously why is Luke dressed like a pastor whats going on

WOAH GOLD BIKINI LIEA - OKAY STORY TIME I USED TO WATCH PRINCESS RAP BATTLES AS A CHILD AND THE ONE I SAW WITH LEIA IN IT SHE SAID “I wore a gold bikini and the whole world lost its shit” ANF NOW I KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

Ok yoda we get it you’re 900 no ones talking about your wrinkles anyway with pastor Luke in the room, projecting much?

Is yoda suidicdal???

WDYM LUKE IS REaDY???? HE DIDNT DO ANYTHING TO BE READY EXCEPT FLY FACEFIRST INTO A MILITARY BASE HIS TRAINING ARC IS SO SHIT

 Whos the other Skywalker?? lukes not even a Skywalker isnt his name Luke vader where’s skywalkers real son OH darthy’s deadname is skywalker

BABY WONKENOBIII IS BACKCKCKC-OMGWHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WDYM LEIAS LUKES SISTER WDYM HE SUSPECTED THIS AFTER MAKING OUT WITH HER FIFTY BILLION TIMES??? WHAT THE HELL

??? HELLO>>??? WHAT TH EHELL??? WHAT IN THE GAME OF THRONES IS GOING ON??????? How is Leia a princess then?? HahahahaHAHAHA SO YODA KNEW …… ABOUT THEIR LITTLE TRIANGLE

Nice the gang is back together, waiting for chewbakka to be revealed as darthy’s next offspring

YES YES GOLDENFACE GETTING THE RESPECT HE DESEREVEVVES I LOVE GOLDENFACEEE

I cant believe these are the idiots the emperors trying to kill

"yes I could sense you were my brother when my tongue was down your throat"

Oh yes Luke hands himself over- haha darthy sensitive over dead name 

Luke youre so stupid- but since jedis cant die is he gonna go to wherever yoda and obi wan is 

Lando is growing on me, also squid guy

This movie is gonna end with emperor and Luke dead isnt it

Is the emperor a jedi too how else does he have power or something something Sith

Id make a horrible jedi- im made of hatred

Hansolo my pathetic little idiot

I JUST REALIZED WHO LUKE EP6 REMINDS ME OF - TROY BOLTON

IS HE BEGGING DARTHY TO KILL HIM WTF

You’re telling me this big of an empire cant take down 6 idiots lead by a happy go lucky guy, never heard of this before

OHMYGOSSDDHD. LYKE YOU IDIOT NOW HE KNOWS ABOUT LEIA

Hahahah a hand for a HAND- wait what…. Why does he have a robo hand too whats going on 

Luke stop acting like you didnt hear about jedis 5 secs ago

Aw does darthy have a heart among his organs

OHMYGOD DARTHY IS A GOOD GUY????? ????? What A VILLAIN TTURNS GOOD ITS BEEN AGES SINCE I SAW A VILLAIN COME OVER TO THE GOOD SIDE

OMG DARHTY FACE REVEAL

Oh damn hes not as ugly as I thought he’d be

Kinda cute even - bro how did he even get this weak why’s he dying rn 

He has such kind eyes

Yeah ok I am so lost I NEED DARTH VADER BACKSTORY RIGH FUCKIN NOW

Is the empire this easy to penetrate? No but they did it with the power of lOVE and FRIENDSHIP 

Love lando 

YES HAN THATS THE REACTION I HAD AN HOUR AGO ACTUALLY WTF

Yes Luke its so sad your daddy that blew up an entire planet in ONE second without a single thought died IM NOT FORGIVING HIM THIS EASY

No way thats it??? They took down the empire just like that???? What??

Damn no one in this world can dance

OHMYGOD ANAKIN???? HOW CAN HE SEE THEM NOW??? IS IT CUZ HES BETTER AT WEILDING THE FORCE

ok fine anakin is cute

(3/9)

[jovialmoonprincess]

AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 2)

First Part. / The Winter Ball

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader 

Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.

Word Count: 2k.

Warning(s): None, 15 yo Corio!! FLUFF FLUFF THE KIISS READ IT FOR THE KISS

A/N: First Fic EVER, dont be mean pls. Also Im not a english native speaker, sorry for any spelling errors. Just saw Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth as President Snow is living rent free in my head! Feedback is appreciated! Comment to be tag in the next part" And REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Y/N was nervous. Attending parties wasn't something she was used to, especially in the Capitol. Her father always reminded her not to trust anyone, and distrust had become second nature to her. Tigris, her friend, had borrowed her a dress, even though her father could now afford to buy as many as she wanted. Tigris insisted she needed something special, something she had that would be perfect. When Y/N asked if Tigris was going to wear it, the answer was no; the dress wasn't hers and wouldn't fit, but it would look gorgeous on Y/N. Tigris, with her generous heart, always tried to cheer up Y/N when she cried out of fear and missed her friends from the districts. And surprisingly, Tigris never judged her, perhaps because she shared her own fears and people to care about.

Tigris understood when Y/N called suggesting a girls' night. It was a code for "my father is unbearable, only talks about war, and I want to stay away from him at least tonight." Tigris simply made a list of activities for them, from plucking eyebrows to watching romance movies on TV.

Y/N's dress was stunning, in a bright navy blue shade. And it was the first time she wore heels. Tigris also borrowed her the jewelry. Y/N walked with cautious steps, afraid that someone would look at her and discover she was an imposter. Even though she was part of the Capitol now, she didn't know how people would react.

After almost an hour of pretending to be invisible and enjoying the chocolate dessert on the table, people started leaving the dance floor. They got tired of dancing and were heading for the food, the only activity they seemed to practice. Y/N left the table to get some air; so many people were starting to tire her, even without talking to them yet. Outside, the scenery was beautiful, with a flower-filled garden, water mirrors, and something like an illuminated gazebo. She walked there; it was already night, and she wanted some fresh air. Looking at the night sky was comforting, something shared by everyone, regardless of their districts.

"Hey, this dress looks beautiful on you." She almost had a heart attack; it wasn't for anyone to notice her. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." It was Corio, Tigris's cousin, always kind when he saw her.

"Thank you, it was Tigris…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"It was my mother's; my grandmother gave it to Tigris, but it suits you much better. Tigris likes things less… simple." A compliment, perhaps?

"Thank you, it's a really beautiful dress." She replied with a smile. Almost too beautiful that it doesn't suit me. She felt guilty for undoing the memory of the boy's mother.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. Y/N couldn't stop looking into his blue eyes; how could someone be so beautiful? It was almost painful.

"I came out to get some air; it was too hot inside." She replied.

"Just when I was about to invite you to dance?" He smiled; my God, he looked even more beautiful smiling. Y/N! What's happening to you?? He's from the Capitol. You shouldn't be getting involved with these people, at least not sincerely.

"Oh, I don't know how to dance." She lied; what if he leaves and forgets that she's wearing his mother's dress. Maybe that's why he's here; he must have confused his feelings. After all, why else would he approach her? Oh, maybe he just wants to be friends with his cousin's friend. Could be, right?

"I can teach you." He was already so close to her; she could feel her heart beating in her throat. "If you want…" He extended his hand to her, and Y/N took it. What harm could it do, after all?

The touch of their skins was electrifying. He placed a hand on her waist, and she breathed; it was as if there wasn't enough air between them. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath. The music could be heard clearly from there, as well as the sound of their feet on the wooden floor.

"Tigris talks a lot about you. I think you're the only friend she really likes. She feels at home with you." There was sincerity in his words.

"We have very similar stories; I also went hungry during the first rebellion." Corio was an intriguing character; Y/N didn't know what his real intentions were. He seemed like a good guy, even if he was closed off.

"I heard your father is sick, is it true?" He seemed slightly concerned. Y/N met Trigis first, because of their parents. They became good friends despite the age difference.

"Oh, yes, it seems that sometimes winning a battle doesn't mean winning the war. The battle ends, but life goes on, and problems still arise." She spoke with a sad and thoughtful voice.

"It's kind of unfair, isn't it?" He asked as they continued to dance slowly.

"What?"

"Having to worry about hunger while there are people inside who claim to be hungry all the time, even without knowing the real meaning." She didn't expect to hear that, at least not from him. Corio seemed quite comfortable among his friends.

"Yes, it's unfair." She replied seriously. "I wish I could change all of this."

"You know, people like you, me, and Tigris. We deserve more; we have to strive to reach the top." Corio was ambitious; anyone could see that.

"I think we're already at the top." Whether she liked it or not, feeling hungry in the Capitol was different from living in the outer districts. At least here, they had a chance to be heard if they spoke at the right time.

"This isn't the top, Y/N." She didn't know how much she needed to hear him say her name until he said it for the first time. "We're in the Capitol, but we're still not at the top."

"What would be the top for you, Corio?"

"Being president. It's the highest position; I'm sure that when I get there, I can really do something." The way he spoke was as if he wanted to improve the country's situation. To be a fair and democratic leader.

"Sorry about the dress; I didn't know it was your mother's." Y/N didn't want to ruin the moment by talking about politics. They would have better opportunities for that.

Tigris probably said something about Corio's mother, but Y/N's memory was terrible.

"It's been a while since she died, in my sister's birth." She could see a glimpse of pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"The dress looks beautiful on you; I'm glad my grandmother kept it." Y/N's heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you."

All was silent. All was still. But as they looked at each other's eyes, they heard the unmistakable clamor of their own hearts. Corio was getting closer to her, his lips so close to hers. It was like one of the movies she watched with Tigris.

When their lips touched, something ignited inside Y/N; it was as if nothing else existed. It was a feeling that, if cultivated, promised to become addictive, a sweet dependence that she wouldn't be in a hurry to overcome. His lips were soft, an irresistible invitation, and his touch was like a gentle caress, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor every moment of that unique moment. One of Corio's hands held Y/N's waist with care, while the other stroked her face gently and firmly, as if sealing a silent pact between them. The kiss was like a hot summer day in the middle of winter, a comforting surprise that transported her to a place where there was only the softness of Corio's lips and the delicate and firm touch of his hands.

It was a kiss that transcended time and space, a promise of something deeper and more intense that awaited on the horizon. Breaking the kiss, the gaze they exchanged contained the promise of a future that, at that moment, seemed full of exciting possibilities. The world around them may have continued in silence, but within them, the melody of that kiss would echo for a long time.

The first kiss was a revelation, a sublime experience that transcended circumstances. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to attribute part of this enchantment to the beauty of the setting, but above all to the even more dazzling figure of Coriolanus. At that moment, for the first time, Y/N felt truly beautiful, removed from the ruthless clutches of war. It was as if, for a brief moment, she found the calm before the storm.

Although she wanted to prolong the kiss, Y/N interrupted it, yielding to the inevitable need for a pause. Their gazes intertwined in silence, a communication deeper than any words could express. Coriolanus's eyes, an ocean of blue fascination, were irresistible, and Y/N felt submerged in the intensity of that gaze. Withdrawing gently, she sought refuge on a nearby bench, and Corio, in silence, took a seat beside her. Hesitation hung between them, neither daring to initiate the next exchange of words.

"Did you enjoy the chocolate dessert, didn't you?" Corio's soft voice broke the silence, eliciting a sincere laugh from Y/N. Had he noticed the taste of chocolate on her lips, or had he just watched her during the dance in the hall? The question lingered in the air, hovering between them, lacking the courage to be asked.

"I loved it," confessed Y/N, although she couldn't determine if she was talking about the dance, the dessert, or the kiss. Perhaps all the options were correct.

"You lied to me," accused the young Snow.

"What?" Y/N laughed again.

"You said you didn't know how to dance." The accusation came with a smile from Corio.

"Maybe," she replied, smiling.

Hours unfolded in deep conversations, a natural harmony between Y/N and Corio. Words flowed, laughter echoed, and the kiss, a magical moment that both chose to ignore, was never mentioned again. Corio, a dreamer aligned with Y/N's aspirations, revealed remarkable ambition and unwavering confidence. Meanwhile, Y/N still struggled with uncertainties about her destiny, eager to capture some of the determination radiating from Corio.

It was the ultimate moment when Y/N felt truly connected to Corio. At that moment, she sincerely believed that he was destined for an extraordinary future as a student in the Capitol. With the passage of time, that memory became nostalgic, a pearl of an irrecoverable past.

In present times, in the Capitol (4 years later)

Y/N, immersed in reverie, contemplated a photo taken with Tigris during the ball. After this glimpse of the past, resentment towards Corio increased. How could he get so close so quickly and distance himself just as fast? They could have continued. However, after that winter break that year, Snow didn't spend more than 5 seconds near her. Their interactions were limited to fights, but even so, Y/N couldn't ignore the boy's beauty.

A last dance preceded the Plinth Prize weekend. It would be an opportunity to meet Corio again, four years after that memorable kiss, in drastically altered circumstances. Y/N awaited eagerly, sometimes questioning her sanity, pondering if everything that woman had said would come true. Corio would graduate, go to university, meet someone, and find happiness. He wouldn't become a murderer, let alone a dictator.

Y/N couldn't help but notice that something had changed in Corio since that first kiss. The boy who was once dreamy and affable now exhibited a more closed-off side, as if a shadow had settled in his soul. Every word was measured, and his smiles were scarce, replaced by a serious and concerned expression.

Corio had become more abrupt, and the lightness that characterized his personality seemed to have been replaced by intense seriousness. Y/N noticed that he closed himself off, keeping a distance that didn't exist before. That touch of softness and charm, present in the boy who taught her to dance and gave her an unforgettable kiss, had turned into an aura of tension.

Y/N remembered one of their first fights.

In a classroom full of tension and academic expectations, the teacher announced with a firm voice, "For the next assignment, we'll have randomly assigned pairs." The students' gazes met, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. Among them were Y/N and Corio, both already known for their rivalries and fierce competitions.

The draw took place, and fate decided that Y/N and Corio would be partners in the next academic endeavor. A wave of murmurs ran through the room, accompanied by intrigued looks directed at the two protagonists.

On a cold study afternoon in the library, Y/N was immersed in her books, tracing meticulous notes and underlining important passages. Corio, on the other hand, flipped through pages with a serious expression, focused on absorbing all available knowledge.

As the hours passed, tension grew. Each had their own approach to the task, and soon the differences became apparent. Y/N preferred to explore ideas and theories more broadly, while Corio delved into specific details, prioritizing accuracy.

"You need to focus, Y/N. These assignments will shape our academic future," said Corio, his tone a mixture of concern and impatience.

Y/N lifted her eyes from the books, facing Corio with a resistant expression. "I'm not disregarding the importance, Corio. I just believe that there are more ways to learn than simply burying yourself in books all the time."

Y/N's words hit Corio like a challenge, and his response came with an unexpected intensity. "Do you think you can afford not to dedicate yourself entirely to studies? The competition here is fierce, Y/N, and only the best succeed." The discussion unfolded, and sharp words flew between them like arrows. Y/N advocated the idea that university life should be more than just grades and rankings, while Corio insisted that the path to success was paved with tireless effort and dedication.

The tension reached its peak when Y/N, driven by frustration, accused Corio of having lost the ability to dream and live beyond academic expectations. Corio, in turn, responded with the accusation that Y/N was being naive and reckless about her future.

The argument, fueled by intense emotions and fundamental differences, echoed through the silent library, drawing curious glances from other students trying to focus on their own studies. As the inflamed words dissipated, Y/N and Corio stared at each other, aware that they had crossed a line separating their views, revealing the depth of the differences that now threatened the stability of their relationship. The ensuing silence was laden with resentment and the bitter feeling that something significant, beyond grades and books, was shattering between them.

----------

Just wanted to drop a quick note to say a massive thank you for all the love, likes, comments, and follows on my story. <3

Big virtual hugs and high-fives to each and every one of you. See you on Part III.

Taglist: @shari-berri @h-l-vlovesvintage @tea-bobba @daenerysqueenofhearts

Again: REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!

[lvrhughes]

Marry Me | Q. Hughes

pairing: Quinn Hughes x f!reader

summary: Quinn's always been in love with you, but you're getting married.

warnings: angst, marriage?, drinking

word count: 0.6k

italics are flashbacks:)

not my gif!

You’ve been invited to Y/n Y/l/n and…

The name blurred in his eyes, irrelevant. He knew the day would come but he wasn’t ready, knocking the wind out of him as he read it. 

They’d been friends for forever, they were always seen together, it was always Quinn and Y/n. Ellen always knew they’d end up together, yet Quinn never quite got the nerve to ask. 

So they never were, letting her slip through his fingers. Falling in love with someone else while he followed her. 

“Quinn,” Her voice was breathy, sounding of excitement and fear. “You made it.” she grinned, reaching her arms out to tug around his shoulders.

Dragging him down in the process, his arms slipping around her waist, just like it used to be. It was a feeling of peace over Quinn for the moment, before she pulled away back to greeting other guests. 

She had it planned out since they were five. She’d have her granddad preaching the service, she’d have magnolias all over, never too many people. Always thinking to save her dad money, keep everything small, just her and her man. Ellen used to swear how it’d be her and quinn on the isle one day and how he wished that were true now. 

He wore his black suit, standing in the back corner. Tucked away in one of his pockets, his only flask he was given as a joke once. He never planned on using it but it seemed needed today, the strongest whiskey he had filled the flask. 

The music starting, everyone turning to see the groom enter, his tux the perfect shade of bue. Just like she’d always dreamed of.

“Quinn! Come, we’re playing wedding!” 

“What if I don’t want to play?” he teased, holding his ground as the young girl tugged on his wrist. 

“Please? Quinn, you make the best groom!” He never stood a chance, agreeing to her every ask, following her out there to be her pretend groom. 

“Would you ever marry me?” He asked, standing at the fake altar with her. 

“No! I’ve gotta marry my prince charming and you're not him!” The child grinned, imagining her perfect prince waiting for her like the movies. She wouldn’t see how it hurt Quinn, she wouldn’t see that he’d never move on. 

She looked like a princess in person, her dress was exactly the same as the one she dreamed of as a girl, her hair tied just as she wanted. The tears filled Quinn’s eyes quickly, taking a shot of whiskey to cover it up. 

“Love?” He asked, looking at the girl staring out the window. They were sixteen, he’d just gotten his license. What better than a road trip?

“Hmm?” She hummed back, turning to look at him. 

“What's on your mind?”  He asked, pulling into the parking spot of the motel for the night, leaning onto the console when he parked the car.

“I don’t know, just thinkin’”

He knew he shouldn’t, the leaning in was subconscious. Almost kissing her. He freaked out, pulling away the minute he realized what he was doing, shaking his head and the thought away. 

“Let’s get in, huh?” He asked, trying to move on. 

Even from the back row he could see the tears glistening on her father’s cheeks, the tears slipping down her grooms too. 

He was there early, he could go find her. He could get it off of his chest, tell her he still loved her, how he’s always been in love with her. But he won’t.

“Tell her! You know she loved you!” His brother's pleas fall to deaf ears, Quinn mumbling out a reply. 

“I’m not gonna mess it up.” 

He could feel the tears get closer and closer to falling with every step she took, taking more shots of whiskey, try to make it through without crying. 

Yeah she wanna get married, yeah she’s gonna get married, but she ain’t gonna marry me.

[nyx-knacks-writes]

Daisy and the Beast

A little fic based on a headcanon posted to my other blog. I can't think of any content warnings or spoilers for Broadchurch, but like... Be mindful. Happy (week early) Halloween! 🎃

One part of Alec’s brain thought that he looked stupid. He was a grown man, not a little boy anymore, and he certainly wasn’t the type of grown man who dressed up for Halloween. He wasn’t even really the type of grown man who passed out candy for Halloween. He was more apt to pretend the holiday wasn’t happening and shut himself in the house with a coffee and some case files to avoid the hordes of primary schoolers hopped up on Maltesers and Skittles. All that to say that he wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to allow his daughter to talk him into this. (The secret had to have been in her masterful kicked-puppy eyes and his pathological inability to say “no” to her without death and injury on the line.)

Daisy was eight years old, and like many girls her age, positively enchanted by Disney movies, particularly the Disney Princess movies. The Little Mermaid, Cinderella, Aladdin, The Princess and the Frog, she’d seen them all. However, her all-time favorite was Beauty and the Beast. There was no contest. After all, what wasn’t there to love? Living furniture, classic musical numbers, and true love’s kiss to wrap it all up in a neat little bow. Alec didn’t quite see the appeal. He could appreciate the hard work that went into the animation, but the real world was a lot crueler than a strong man belittling his Daisy’s intelligence and a group of men trying to kill a beast that they viewed as dangerous. Problems in the real world didn’t magically stop existing because you sang a little song or had a single dance. And he would know. As it turned out, Tess was not fond of dancing. His clumsy-if-well-intentioned attempt to smooth over an argument with a romantic dance had certainly proved that. Talk about only working in the movies.

Back to Daisy. Because she adored Beauty and the Beast so much, she had decided that she wanted to be Belle for Halloween. She’d also decided that she couldn’t possibly be Belle without a Beast, and in the absence of any younger siblings or pets who wouldn’t care what they wore, she’d decided the next best option was her father. Her grumpy, people-hating father who may as well have been a beast himself at times. She’d begged and pleaded like her life depended on it, making promise upon promise upon promise. She’d eat her vegetables, do her chores, go to bed on time (wasn’t she doing that already??), anything and everything to make him say “yes”. 

He’d lasted all of five minutes. 

So there he stood. Halloween night. In a big, furry Beast mask, a blue and gold suit, a tail, horns, fake claws, and even more fake fur that itched like crazy as Princess Daisy-Belle stood at his side, giggling up at her daddy as he stood stiffly in place. Tess, meanwhile, stood a few feet away with her phone out, snapping picture after picture for the future and completely failing at hiding her laughter. 

“Come on, Alec, smile!” she tried, forcing her own smile off of her face. “You don’t want Daisy looking back on these and just remembering you being grumpy, do you?”

“You try smiling when you have polyester fur down your—” he cut himself off with a grumble and forced a happy smile.

“There you are, that’s a love,” Tess replied, still snickering. “All done.”

Alec sighed with relief and turned to his daughter, this time with a genuine smile. 

“Alright, wee princess, are ye ready to go?” he asked, scooping her into his arms as she squealed delightedly.

“Yes, Daddy, yes!” Daisy cried back, wrapping her little arms around her father’s neck and squirming like she’d already eaten a kilo of sugary sweets.

“Got yer bucket?” he asked, placing her back on the floor. “Yes!”

“Glowstick?”

“Yes!”

“Shoes?”

“Uhh…” Daisy looked downward, picked up her skirt to see her feet, and ran off to get her shoes. Luckily, they were just a pair of black Mary-Janes rather than anything sparkly, so there would be no need for a second photoshoot. They hadn’t been the shoes that Daisy had wanted, but both Alec and Tess had insisted on practical shoes rather than the tiny yellow heels that had been on display beside the costume. After all, how was the girl meant to trick-or-treat if she was struggling to walk?

As soon as the errant shoes were strapped on, the little group set off to raid the neighborhood candy bowls, full of as much Halloween spirit as they could muster (though it should be said that one member was notably lacking). Overall, it was a pleasant, fruitful venture. Being police, Tess and Alec had done their best to settle in a safe neighborhood in Sandbrook, full of old folks and young couples and positively brimming with free candy, which was all that really mattered on Halloween night. As expected, the father-daughter duo raked in copious amounts of colorful candy. Lollipops, jelly fangs, M&Ms, Skittles, you name it, it was in the bucket. Alec had to wonder, in the back of his mind, if this had been a factor in Daisy’s insistence upon dressing up together. She was a smart kid, so he wouldn’t put it past her to figure out that the cuter she was, the more candy she could get. Eh, it didn’t really matter. She wouldn’t want to dress up with him forever. Even if he did have fur in places where fur should never be, he’d cherish the unrestrained love of his daughter while he still had it.

With aching feet and heavy arms, the Hardys arrived back home just as the porch lights began to wink out. Halloween night was drawing to a close. Being that it was Tuesday, Daisy couldn’t stay up much longer, or she’d be too tired for school. Realistically, her class wouldn’t be doing much of anything the next day anyway, but that didn’t mean that she should be allowed to stay up until midnight cramming her cheeks with chocolate and crisps and whatever other junk people gave out for Halloween. No no no, she was sent off to shower, put on some jammies, brush her teeth, and hop along to bed. When she came out, she made a beeline for Alec, thankfully already changed, and made sure to hug him and thank him and tell him how much she loved him. A happy smile parked itself on his face, and Tess couldn’t help a smile of her own as her husband waltzed into the bedroom and settled beside her under the covers.

“What’s got you so happy?”

“Nothing, love. Just happy to see Daisy so happy. Snickers?” Alec held up a pair of candy bars that he’d pilfered from Daisy’s bucket.

“You didn’t. Stealing from your own daughter?”

“Parent Tax.” Alec shrugged and unwrapped a bar. “Don’t tell me you weren’t going to do the same.”

“Touché, sir.” Tess took the second bar and dug into it, only getting a bite in before turning to press a chocolate-tasting kiss against Alec’s lips.

“Happy Halloween, love.” “Happy Halloween, darlin’.”

[fvck-the-rest]

Helping Hand

Gojo x female? reader (reader is like a motherly figure)

word count: 1277

\warnings\ none, really just fluff, reader just wants to help Gojo out, this is so dumb

“There has to be SOMETHING that i can do to help you out Gojo, you don't even know the first thing about raising a kid!”, at this point, should have given up and gone home. But he was so stubborn- to stubborn- and claimed he knew everything there was to know about raising a kid. 

“Please, I'm THE strongest, I can handle a couple of kids, beside its my responsibility to care for them now anyway, I don't see our name anywhere in this.” He was getting on your nerves, wanting nothing more than to help these two kids have a motherly figure in their life and not be bright up to be just like Gojo- this was for the sake of the world. 

“Gojo look-” he put his hand over your face, preventing anything else that you had to say be lost into his palm. 

“Ah-ah, now you see y/n I don't need help, my responsibility, not yours, I'm the one who killed their father and I was the one who took it on myself to take them from being sold.”. He was so calm about taking them in, like it was nothing- he made it seem like he has done it a million times in his life. But, you knew he needed help , you say that he was tired and stressed. He had just lost his best friend, failed a mission and just killed a murder. But he was THE strongest so of course no one else would step in and help him or see that he was tired- beside he also wore sunglasses or something that covered his eyes. 

By now he had turned around and was walking back to his place to greet the kids. Following him in silence, he knew that you were there and that you were just trying to help but the last thing he wanted to do was cause you any sort of discomfort or stress. He didn't turn around to stop you and even left the door open for you when he got to the place. He walked into the kitchen and turned to look at you. 

“Look, if you really want to help,  when they get home they usually have a small snack while they start on homework. You can help them out and then I don't want to help anymore. “ Gojo took off his sunglasses and put them on the counter behind him before going to get the snacks that he gave them after school. 

Without a word you took it from him- not to his surprise though and brought it to the table in the next room. The white harried man follows you with drinks for all four of you. About to say that you can do more than help with some homework, you heard the sound of the door opening.  

They took off their shoes and came into the room you stood in, “Hello!” they both said to you, running over to hug.

“Hi kiddos, how were your days at school?” squatting down to b e eye level with them, hugging them back.  

“It was good, but my teacher gave me a lot of homework to do today.”Tsumiki said with a slight whine in her voice.

“My day was okay, but I have just a little bit of homework to do,” Megumi said on the other side of his sister, already getting his papers out and putting them at the table. 

“Okay, then we can get all your homework down and then maybe we can watch a movie together and maybe have Gojo get some snacks for all of us to share. How does that sound?”, standing to help Megumi and Tsumiki get all their papers out and settle at the table to do their homework. 

“Now let's started shall we, the sooner you get it down the sooner we can watch a movie.”, with that they were ready to start doing their homework while Gojo watched from the kitchen wondering how you got them both to do it without any word of complaint. At this point he would still be arguing with Megumi with who knows what.

After about an hour they were both down with their work and ready to watch a movie with you. But first you needed a snack for the movie first. 

“GOJO! COME ON WE GOTTA GET SNACKS FOR THE MOVIE” yelling out to try and figure out where the white haired man went. Not hearing anything from him you went looking, first to the bedroom. 

Laying on the bed passed out, there he was. He really was tired, deciding to leave him to sleep ,walking back to the front door.

“Gojo’s not coming with us, he has something to deal with right now. Come on, let's go before it gets too dark out”, opening the front door and holding their hands you walked to the store to get all the snacks and drinks that you would need for the night, then walking back just before it got dark. 

Asking them to pick out a movie, you went to go and check on Gojo again, who was -not to your surprise- was still fast asleep on his bed. 

Coming back, you put in the movie they picked and sat in the middle of them, opening things here and there. Soon enough switching on another movie, but this time they had both fallen asleep on the couch before finishing this one. 

Doing your best to not wake them up, you stand and pick up Tsumiki and bring her to bed then do the same for her brother. Once they were both in bed, making their way back to Gojo. 

He was starting to stir before mumbling to you, “What time is it”, just before burying his head into his pillow.

“It’s bedtime for you, and everyone else. Do you want me to stay the night? I can sleep on the couch so you don’t have to get up.” in a soft voice you tried to get him to lift his head from the pillow so you could hear him clearly. 

“I always want you to stay the night, y/n. I don't like when you leave, I get scared that you won’t come back. You can sleep in bed with me, just please don't leave."He was so tired, probably didn't even know what he was really saying or to whom he was saying this too. Yet he sounded so sincere and sad, but still leaving a blush on your face. There was no way that you could leave him in this state. 

“I’m not going anywhere Gojo, I'll stay the night here if you want me too. But I shouldn’t sleep in the same bed as you.” letting out a small giggle before being grabbed and falling onto the bed. Landing next to Gojo , wrapped in his arms facing him.

“You’re sleeping here tonight, so I know that you won’t leave.” lifting your head to look at him, landing a small kiss on your forehead “Also, stop gaping my ‘Gojo’, we're close enough, you can call Saturo from now on, besides you're about to sleep in my bed, that should make us more than friends now. Of course if that's okay with you”

Letting out just a small nod, you let him wrap around you and pull the blanket over you both. Steading your breathing oto match his and the back rubbing he was giving you, it did not take long for you to fall asleep.Soon to be woken up by a loud bang of the little ones trying to make breakfast for you two.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Mediation...?

This one I came up with as I walked to work, and so we will all explore it. It is a Post Empire AU. I know, I do not usually go for post-empire, but the horror and humor of this idea spoke to me.  

Let’s take a look, yeah?

The AU part is that both Obi Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker survived through the end of the Empire. So we don’t have to deal with too many changes too early, Obi Wan was severely injured and in Bacta for the entire time of the OT (or he got injured again just before the events of each movie, whichever works better). 

After Vader comes back to the light, he is fitted with prosthetics that actually fit (including being the correct height). He is still required to wear a mask ,but it is more like Plo Koons than Vader (covering his mouth and nose but not his entire face). The burns he got from Mufastar meant that he had no hair, and the suit he wore for those years meant that he was unnaturally pale. As a consequence he no longer looks like Vader (not just because he lost 5 inches in height with the correct legs).  

Most of the galaxy does not know that Vader and Anakin Skywalker are the same person. Anakin was also largely forgotten, and the few who did remember him (without knowing the Vader connection) would quietly muse about how much Vader seemed to hate Anakin Skywalker, the Hero without Fear (there is no doubt in my head that the person Vader hated the most was Anakin). 

The Rebels do know that Anakin and Vader are the same person. Even as they are working to build the New Republic, no one is quite sure what, if anything, Anakin Skywalker should be charged with (War crimes. So many war crimes, they would need to invent new war crimes specifically for Vader-Though to be fair he is not the only living member of the Empire’s ruling body for this to be true). If he does need to be charged, and they could figure out what with, does his fall to the dark side constitute a mitigating factor (some kind of diminished capacity) or an enhancement (like a hate crime)? Where does killing the Emperor fit into any sentence he would have to serve? Is there even a way to enforce any sentence that a court could impose?

All of these questions and more would have to be answered before any trials could commence (including: how far does “following orders” mitigate actions, and how far up the chain of command can that excuse be used?). In the meanwhile Anakin hangs awkwardly around with his son when he is able. 

Luke wants, deeply, to help his father become comfortable around people again. He also does not quite…understand is probably the best term…understand the depth of the horrors that Vader/Anakin created in his 20 years in the suit.  In his mind he knows, and has been told, most of what Vader has done, but to a certain extent he separated Anakin and Vader in his mind so there is a bit of disconnect (Some understandable cognitive dissonance). 

He is at least aware enough that he is not looking to find Anakin friends among the rebels, who would naturally think of Vader first (and thus it would be uncomfortable for all involved). He understands that asking someone like Leia to try and befriend the being that tortured her then blew up her planet is not a good idea. 

But there is one person he knows thinks of Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader as two different people. Obi Wan Kenobi.  Who is decidedly avoiding Anakin (in this Anakin can not blame him, the return to the light means that he does actually need to face everything he has done), but is also low key avoiding most people. Mostly Obi Wan is staying around the clones that still live (both to help those clones with their own guilt over their actions while chipped, the fact that their aging has finally been brought to human normal,  and frankly because he likes them more than most people these days-I imagine at least Cody-CodyWan for the win-, Rex, Gregor, Appo, and Wolffe but there are a good crowd), and the few Force users that survived the Purge. Also spending time with Leia.

Now a few things need to be made abundantly clear at this point. Luke does not know of the horrors Anakin perpetrated, as opposed to Vader (For all that Palpatine labeled him Vader before the march on the temple, I always headcanon that his last act as purely Anakin was the slaughter of the children in the council chamber but even then he did not truly become Vader until after he finds out that Padme died), not really. Few enough who live remember the march on the temple, what it meant that the temple (the home of the Jedi) was pillaged and burned. Fewer still ever knew that it was Anakin that led the march and slaughtered the children.  

Oddly enough, Anakin Skywalker is the only person in the galaxy who knows the true horrific extent of his own crimes. 

So Luke, with all the best of intentions, notices that Obi Wan is avoiding Anakin, and decides he will help his father and his teacher/mentor/uncle/that weird dude that lived in the desert makeup. Luke is attributing the awkwardness to Anakin’s 20 years as Vader (which, if we are being completely honest, is the least of the issues between Anakin and Obi Wan).

Luke decides he is going to hold something like a mediation to bridge those 20 years. Anakin is, at this point, incapable of denying Luke anything and agrees (in spite of the fact that even he can tell this will go poorly). Obi Wan does not actually agree as Luke does not tell him what they are meeting for, but once he arrives is semi blackmailed by Luke (leveraging the whole ‘you told me my father was dead thing/you lied to me my whole life’) which really only works because Obi Wan is also fairly vulnerable to young Skywalker children who remind him of the people who Obi Wan has lost (Satine would have done something similar, Obi Wan think nostalgically). Thinking that an audience would help create a more neutral location, Luke makes sure that Obi Wan is accompanied by a few of the clones (Appo in particular), and that Leia, Han, and Mon Mothma (as one of the few people who remember Padme and Anakin) are in the room. There are others. 

Now Luke has all the best intentions with this, but he is, at best, missing some very critical information. At worst he is taking after one of his father’s worst traits (so sure he can fix a relationship that is not his, and is probably better left broken). 

Both Anakin and Obi Wan silently agree to humor the sunshine boy.  At first they try to keep it to lighter disagreements and misunderstandings  (who saved who and who made the situation worse kind of thing). Anakin brings up at one point being unhappy that Obi Wan hid his children from him for almost 20 years, Obi Wan corrects that he hid them for almost 10 years from Vader, since he believed Anakin actually dead for the first 10, during which Vader maintained that Anakin was dead. Anakin withdraws his objection.

Then Anakin brings up the limb removal on Mustafar (which causes most of the room to go still, no one but the clones-whom Obi Wan had told- knew about the Mustafar fight). Obi Wan shoots back with an slightly irate rejoinder that it was a really measured response considering that Anakin had just: led a group of brainwashed soldiers into their home and slaughtered as many men, women, and children that he could; choked his very pregnant wife; ignored repeated attempts Obi Wan made to end the fight without further violence. 

It was at this point that Appo started to have a panic attack (being one of the few surviving Clones who was actually there in the temple).  Obi Wan looked over at Luke, apologized and said this was not a good idea.  Then left with the clones, all trying to calm Appo back down. 

The entire room is just…dead silence. Like Luke everyone, barring Anakin who did know this was going to go so badly, had sort of forgotten that Obi Wan was more than the weird desert guy who hung around with the clones, and sometimes Leia.  Luke is sitting there, really pale (He did have good intentions).

Like the people who realized the Jedi suffered a genocide when the Empire came into power had mostly died, the few that had survived all these years had buried that knowledge under the subsequent horrors of the Empire (They also largely forgot, or didn’t understand the horror of the chips both in the context of Order 66 and following orders in the Empire). It was not done out of maliciousness, or even ignorance, because the Jedi and the Clones (in that they lost everything of themselves and their culture in a moment) may have been the first genocide of the Empire but it was not the last. 

I’m not sure where it would go from there, other than Anakin is charged with so many war crimes and accepts whatever punishment is determined.

[pappydaddy]

sorry about the shirt (f.w.)

a/n: now that i named this fic this, now i have an idea for another fic with this as a prompt.... ugh my mind, curse my cognition! also, i have deleted this and reformatted this like six times and the title is still not saving as a god-damn title anymore. ugh. tumblr (pls don't shadowban me again)

tv show/movie: harry potter | pairing: fred weasley x fem!hufflepuff!reader

requested by the lovely @readingfan  (hope you enjoy it💛!) | my little pea-sized, fred-lane brain made this a fred x reader without me realizing it until seconds before posting this

synopsis: fred and george getting a summer job in a coffee shop where a pretty girl frequents. said pretty girl seems to have fred in a trance. what could possibly go wrong? well, fred knows what could now that an innocent shirt has been ruined.

taglist: @frederickandgeorge-weasley | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @onyourgoddamnleft *line through you user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: reader is described to wear sundresses | mentioned of negative thoughts about oneself (reader has negative thoughts about herself) | fred and george being teens (aged to be 18, idc if it's not canonically plausible) working in retail).

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

- not my gif -

GIF by fgweasley

Summer was supposed to be a time of freedom, long nights, and recklessness and there was nobody else who knew this more than Fred and George. Unfortunately for them, it appears that their summer was going to be nothing but seeing the inside of that damn coffee shop. Fred and George rarely ever regretted a prank, but right now, they were starting to think that perhaps slipping Malfoy that candy that made his skin turn Gryffindor red and his hair a golden snitch gold wasn’t worth this. It also taught them that when Malfoy said his father would hear about this, he actually means it - sometimes.  

  However, no matter how funny the prank was and how much it was worth all the time they spent planning and agonizing to create the final product, it was not worth this. Not worth the wrinkled fingers that lost all feeling after wiping down every single table and counter in the cafe. Not worth the skin of the heat from the coffee machines. Not worth the horrible experience of dealing with customers. Not to mention uncomfortable uniforms. Forced to wear black jeans, black dress shirts, and a ratty old apron ten other people wore before them. 

  While George grumbled everyday, hoping and wishing for their return to Hogwarts (something nobody expected to hear), Fred’s summer was not a complete waste. He did not realize this when they applied for their job, but this coffee shop tucked into a hidden alleyway of Diagon Alley was often frequented by a rather pretty girl. In her flowing sundresses, her hair cascading down over her shoulders in soft waves. When he first saw her his knees nearly gave out. Then when she turned to leave (lemonade in hand - it was a hot day) and he caught a glimpse of the white ribbon tying her hair into a half-up, half-down style, George had to catch him because his knees did give out. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly place her. 

  “She’s in our year, a Hufflepuff,” Hermione had told him one day when she and Ron had visited them. They were out gathering ideas for a present for Harry. “She’s quiet, likes to stick to her routine but doesn’t shy away from new opportunities. She’s in my book club and study club. She has such a beautiful voice but she thinks it's horrible - that’s why she is so quiet.” She revealed after Fred pressed her for more information. 

  Unfortunately for Fred, he has yet to hear that beautiful voice since he never seems to be on the cash when she comes in or someone beats him to it - usually George as a form of twisted amusement. “Hermione was right. She does have a beautiful voice.” George blinked after the first time he took her order. It was later discovered that the reason she hates her voice was because some Slytherins had poked fun at her in First Year, leaving her with an ugly taste in her mouth and horrible self-confidence. Fred could wring their necks, every last one of them. 

  Anytime Fred had any downtime, he found himself thinking of her. He knew nothing of her but, yet, she consumed every thought and every dream of his. Such as today. It was a horribly humid and dreadful day. Every door to the coffee shop was open, a cooling spell was placed on the shop but it was barely fighting against the stickiness, and the owner even found some muggle fans and set them up. It was slow, barely anyone wanted to leave their houses and if they did, they surely couldn’t even think about sipping on a coffee - even one of their iced ones since the ice would probably melt before they even took their first sip. 

  But here was Fred, elbows digging into the counter as he hogged one of the fans. His back was facing the entrance as he moved with the fan which was oscillating. George was in the back, doing work back there but Fred was sure he was just sitting in front of that fan. “Bloody hell.” He groaned, pinching his shirt and pulling it away from him. This was torture. 

  “Excuse me,” A soft, hesitant voice called to him over the rattling of the fan, startling him. Turning around, his eyes widened when she saw who stood at the counter. Hair pulled up into a high ponytail, bangs hanging around her face from where the shorter strands fell out of the ponytail. Even looking right at her, he saw the ribbon she usually wore in her hair. Today’s was a pretty yellow shade, matching the sundress she wore. It was a pale yellow, nothing that jumped right out at you. “Could I get a large lemonade?” She asked him, blinking sweetly as she rolled up to the balls of her white converse. That voice. He was blown away. He was never going to be the same after hearing that beautiful sound. How could he go on with his life knowing that that voice exists and he isn’t hearing it every second of everyday.  

  “Yes, of course,” He nodded, rushing to the counter, nearly tripping over himself. “George, can you make a large lemonade?” He yelled out back as he typed away on the till. Instantly, George emerged, a large lemonade in hand. 

  “Here ya go, Y/N. I knew you would be wanting one of these today. Made it once I heard your voice.” He winked at her and Fred contemplated murdering him right there. He actually considered it when she giggled at his twin, but the sound made him stop. Everybody said her voice was the most beautiful sound, which he could agree with all his heart on now that he heard it, but her giggle. Just thinking about making her laugh made him want to lay on his stomach on his bed and kick his feet like Ginny does whenever Harry says hi to her. 

  “Thank you, George,” She smiled thankfully, holding out her hand. Almost as if under a spell, Fred reached his hand out, palm facing up. With her sweet smile turning to Fred, she dropped a handful of sickles in his palm. Her fingers brushed against the palm of his hand, sending shivers and sparks running through his nerves. “That’s enough for the lemonade and ten sickles for you guys to split for a tip. Thank you, Fred.” 

  The shock sent to Fred’s system was immense when she said his name. She knew his name. She knew his name. He opened and closed his mouth as she turned on her heel, her skirt flaring up adorably, her ponytail and ribbon flaring up as well and off she went into the dreadful heat, making Fred’s day so much better. 

____

  It was a rush. Possibly the biggest rush Fred and George have ever experienced at the shop. The queue was running out of the door. Perhaps everyone just now realized that summer was coming to a close and just now decided to emerge from their lazy, hazy, summer daze to enjoy the days. This, of course, made Fred miserable. 

  Instead of enjoying their time, patrons were making their lives a living hell. And for what? Amusement? What was the reason he had to get yelled at by a man because his coffee was too hot to drink? He questioned if it was possible that these people got some sort of happiness from throwing adult hissyfits and yelling at underpaid, overworked employees. Did they have some sort of odd kink? Did it fill a missing void? Whatever it was, Fred quite frankly did not want to be part of it.  

  However, when he saw that shining face in the queue, her nose buried in her book as she read so intently. She wore her hair down aside from two locks of hair tied back into a braid, secured by a light blue ribbon today. When he saw her, he froze for a moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way the sun burned through the dirty windows (that seemed to have fingerprint smudged permanently tattooed on it) and hit her like a golden spotlight. The way her finger absentmindedly stroked the cover of her book as she read. 

  “Excuse me,” The customer in front of him barked. He jolted back to reality. Frankly, he already was in reality since Y/N was completely gorgeous. There was no fantasy about that. She was perfect. The fantasy was that she had feelings for him or at least thought he was cute. “Did you get my order?” The man, a short, plump man with an angry red nose despite the beautiful summer day they were having, grumbled. 

  “One medium coffee. Would you like that iced or with anything in it?” Fred asked the normal questions, bracing himself for the normal response he usually received from people with certain mannerisms. 

  The man’s nose seemed to get even more red. “Of course I don’t. If I wanted it another way, I would have ordered it another way. What do I look like? An idiot? Rowena, you kids these days, needing to have things iced and sweetened. Whatever happened to the good British taste? Black coffee. That is what I want-”

  “That will be 3 sickles, Sir.” Fred read the total off, noticing how Y/N glanced up, rolling onto her tiptoes to take note of what was taking so long. He wanted to get this nasty old man out of his line so that she could get on with her day. Her day shouldn’t be wasted in this shop waiting in line. 

  “Here, keep the change.” The man basically tossed the sickles at Fred. Four sickles. 

  “Some change,” Fred whispered under his breath, putting three sickles in the till and dropping one in the communal tip jar. That naked a total of five sickles in tips. “Have a nice day, sir,” Fred faked a smile as the man waddled off to the pick-up area, barking at George to hurry up. “I can help whoever is next.” “Two people until her.” Fred thought. 

  “Hi, could we get two lemonades? Mediums please,” The teen girl giggled, eyes staring up at Fred sweetly. Fred nodded, writing the order down and sliding it along the counter. Harrison, the manager, grabbed it to start making it. “So, we’ll be seeing you at Hogwarts in a couple of weeks, right, George?” She asked with a bat of her eyelashes, still getting his name wrong despite his name tag being basically eye level with her. He could see Y/N look up from her book, snickering slightly behind her book. 

  “I’m actually Fred. And yes. That will be seven sickles today.” Fred read off their total, holding his hand out for their money. 

  “Oh, sorry. You both are so handsome, it’s hard to tell you apart.” She flirted with a wink, dropping exactly seven sickles in his hand. 

  “Have a nice day,” He nodded to them as they wandered off with linked arms to bother George. “Next please!” He just needed to take care of this one customer and then she would be at his cash. Evidently, she noticed this as she was tucking her book into her bag and pulling out her coin wallet. He watched her intently, somehow managing to take the customer’s order and recite the amount of money he needed. 

  He watched as she counted the sickles she had pulled out before pulling out two more coins before doing some math in her head. He could tell since her eyes flicked around and she used her free hand to wiggle her fingers as if counting on them. “Have a nice day.” He wasn’t even sure what that customer ordered, but he must have done it right. 

  And up stepped the person he was waiting for. Y/N stepped up with a bounce, smiling brightly at him. He wanted to faint right there. There she was, standing there and it overwhelmed him so much that his nervous system was going haywire on him. “Hi, Freddie!” She seemed to have gotten much more comfortable. She was more bubbly and talkative with him and his brother. She even started to call them by nicknames. It warmed Fred’s heart to the point it might burst. 

  “Hi, Y/N, what can I get for you today?” He asked, trying to calm his racing heart and malfunctioning nervous system. He was in fight-or-flight with the secret third option: faint. 

  “Just a large iced coffee. I am trying to finish off the last book on my book club’s summer reading list and I decided I might as well change up the scenery.” She explained, her voice much more even and comfortable. Not the same reluctant, soft voice she had when she first talked to him. And if he thought that voice was beautiful, then this voice was perfect. Alluring. Charming. Cute. Marvelous. Dazzling. Delicate. Stunning. Splendid. Gorgeous. Lovely. Any synonym there was for beautiful because this voice was so much better. 

  Before he could even tell her the total, she handed him the sickles she had counted out prior to the interaction. She always did it. “Three sickles for the iced coffee and how many for the tip?” He asked, knowing exactly how she worked things. 

  “Fifteen. Five for everyone who worked today,” She smiled as she rolled up to the balls of her feet - something he found that she did often. The line was gone aside from her and part of Fred wished it would stay away so she could stand there talking to him, but unfortunately someone walked in. “I’ll leave you to it, Fred.” She smiled at him. It appeared sad and part of him hoped that she felt upset about having to part from him. 

  He watched her walk over to George who held her coffee out to her. Sharing pleasantries, she headed off to one of the many tables. Taking her normal table by the window. “Alright boys. I am heading out, I’ll be back in two hours to close it down.” Harrison told them. That was most likely the last rush of the day. People didn’t tend to frequent the coffee shop near close. They gave him nods as he left. 

  Thirty minutes and they hadn’t stopped. Anytime they saw a lull coming, once they served one customer, two more would come. Just as Fred turned his back, taking a deep breath as the attack stopped, he heard the approaching footsteps of someone. He wanted to roll his eyes and outwardly show the resentment he had felt, but he didn’t feel the same hostility he had felt with the last few customers. Part of him should have known why before he turned around, but sometimes he isn’t always on the ball. 

  As he turned around, he was pleasantly shocked to see Y/N standing there at the counter again, her head down as she inspected the wet patch on her blue sundress. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up, hand hovering over the patch on the center of her torso. “Hey, Fred, again,” She smiled, a bit awkwardly as she didn’t usually come up after she got her order unless it was to say bye to the boys (something rather new after she got comfortable with them). “Do you think I could get a napkin? That last customer who left kind of knocked into me a bit and I got the last bit of iced coffee on me-” She cut herself off as Fred reacted without thinking, grabbing the back of his brother’s black shirt and ripping it off of him.

  “Here you go, Y/N.” He handed it to her. Shocked, she took it from him. George just stood there, blinking at his brother as if he had gone completely mad. Fred considered this a sign that perhaps, working nearly every single day of the summer had made him cracked in the head. Slowly, looking at the face Y/N was making, he came back into his body. It was as if seeing Y/N in need made him go into autopilot, doing whatever he needed to to resolve the issue Y/N was facing. 

  “Fred, what in Godric's name?” George questioned, still a bit shocked that his brother completely ripped the back of his shirt off, leaving just his sleeves and the front. It was silent as the three of them all looked at each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Fred couldn’t even remember his brain telling him to do that, let alone any thought of ripping his brother’s shirt. 

  The silence was broken by the sweet giggles of Y/N. Fred nearly gave himself whiplash turning his head to look at her. There she stood, on the other side of the counter, one hand holding the tattered shreds of George’s shirt, the other one hovering over her mouth as her giggled turned into laughter, eyes crinkling closed. “Oh my Helga,” She pressed her lips together, her purely magnetic eyes opening and meeting Fred’s with a zing being sent through Fred’s body like electricity (which this summer, he discovered was pretty dangerous). “I needed that, Freddie. That guy who bumped my arm as a complete arse-” Fred blinked, that might have been the most foul he had ever heard her talk, though Hermione had told him she had said much worse about some of the guys in their year. “You know exactly what to do to make people laugh, it’s an amazing gift,” She nodded at him, a large smile hanging off her lips. “Thank you, see you at Hogwarts if I am not in next week.” She whispered as she rolled onto the balls of her feet. 

  Before Fred could react, she was pressing her lips against his cheek. Her sweet looking lips felt even sweeter against the now burning flesh of his freckled cheeks. He knew that now he felt her lips, he wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about how they would feel against his own lips, but right now his brain was empty. He couldn’t function as she pulled away, heels crashing to the ground. A bashful smile stayed on her lips as she waved to the pair of them, Fred so far gone he barely even registered the fact that her lips were no longer touching him - probably due to the fact that the tingling he felt was still there.    When he finally came back into his body again, Y/N and her bashfulness had left with her book tucked under her arm for almost five minutes. Blinking around, Fred saw the basically empty shop, the only person lingering being someone who had been there for two hours now. Looking to his side, he felt George’s “what the hell” look before he saw it. Winching, nervous about his brother’s wrath. “Sorry about the shirt, George.”

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.31

gdi shadow why'd you wake me up at 6am

Stephanie was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone when Mike sat down next to her heavily, making her bounce a little on the cushions. He suddenly tipped sideways and she lifted her arms as he laid across her lap, looking down at him and his shit-eating grin.

“What?” She asked.

“We should go out tonight.” He said and she gave him a look.

“Yeah?” She asked and he nodded.

“A new club opened up downtown, themed on this old point and click horror game I played when I was a kid that went public domain.” He said, “I’ll be able to tell if Lewis makes an appearance and the place will be packed on opening night so we can disappear if need be.”

“Mike, he tried to stab you when we first met, remember?” She asked, “Not saying no, just saying we should bring one of the others with us just in case. Probably Geralt. He seems like the least likely to be miserable at something like this.”

“Geralt is so broody though!” Mike exclaimed.

“Would you rather we bring Sy and deal with him being all surly Army Captain? Or how about Walter with his bored sighs and manly glowers? Maybe August? Who gets into a right foul mood when he has to do something he doesn’t want to.”

“Good point.” Mike said, clicking his tongue against his teeth, “I can deal with intense brooding for a few hours.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Geralt wasn’t enthused with the idea, but he didn’t outright tell them no. He also let them know he was expecting a call from a fellow Tracker in Chicago, but it shouldn’t split his focus. Both men opted for their usual clothing, hoodie and a t-shirt for Mike, dark button-up with the sleeves rolled up the forearms and black jeans for Geralt. Stephanie stuck to something simple but more in-tune with a club vibe, a black halter top and tighter fitting dark jeans with black leather flats.

“You’re not going out like that.” August said, folding his arms over his chest and she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t call you Daddy, and you’re definitely not my father. Get over it.” She said and went to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he scowled at her.

“One moment.” Geralt said as they were about to leave, stopping Stephanie with a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to get all pissy about my shirt, too.” She said and he gave her a look before pulling a chain out of his pocket. It was simple chain that looked silver, but it obviously wasn’t as he was able to handle it. Hanging from it was a ring, and it was the wolfs head ring Geralt wore for as long as she knew him. “Geralt?”

“We’ll talk when we get home.” He said, pulling her hair to the side so he could clasp the chain around her neck, the ring hanging down between her breasts. “I just want you to wear this.”

“But this is your ring.” She said, picking it up.

“I know.” He said, “We’ll talk when we get home. Come on, before Mike starts complaining.” They took Sy’s truck, Geralt driving, heading into downtown. The outside of the club was decked out like something out of a Clive Barker movie, with red lights accenting twisted metal and arcane symbols and there was already a line queueing outside.

Thankfully, the line moved quickly and they got inside without waiting for too long. Music thumped through the air, the inside decorated much like the outside and she saw several people wearing nondescript white masks.

“It’s what the monsters in the game wore.” Mike said, seeing that she had noticed. “The whole premise of the game was you and your friends were being hunted by creatures in white masks inside an old mental institution. The twist at the end was that one of your friends was one of the monsters hunting you. Who it was was based on who you played as. If you made it out, you beat the game and got the good ending. If you got caught, you died, and the death scenes were pretty graphic for the time. I think they used FMV with practical effects. If I remember right, the levels were procedurally generated, so they changed every time you played so you couldn’t just memorize routes.”

“What was it called?” Stephanie asked.

“Hellworld.” Geralt said and Mike looked at him in surprise, getting a shrug in return, “It was something to do between assignments.”

“My man!” Mike said and held out a fist. Geralt looked at it for a moment before bumping it with his own. “Fuck yeah.”

“Is that why you didn’t fight me about coming with us?” Stephanie asked with a smirk, “Because you’re also a fan of the game?”

“It was something to do.” Geralt repeated, folding his arms over his chest with a scowl, but it had no effect on her. She knew what he looked like when he orgasmed, a scowl wasn’t going to intimidate her.

“Uh huh.”

“Let’s get something to drink.” Geralt said, rolling his eyes, “Before I bend you over my knee.”

“You wish.” She said and Mike snorted, leading the way to the bar.

Mike eventually dragged her away to dance, leaving Geralt at the bar and he kept an eye on them, a small smile perking the side of his lips. She looked happy. He pointedly ignored anyone who tried to talk to him, sipping at his bottle of water.

His phone vibrating in his pocket made him look away from them and he dug it out, seeing the message he was expecting. Typing in a quick reply, he slid it back into his pocket, but when he looked up again, they were gone. Geralt pushed away from the bar, scanning the people in the club, but he didn't see them. A feeling akin to circulation returning to a limb crawled over his brain making his jaw clench. He knew that feeling and he knew it well. His phone went off in his pocket again and he dug it out, seeing the text from Mike.

911 back of club

He pushed through crowd, ignoring complaints and found the back exit, shoving open the door.

"Over here." He heard and looked over, seeing Mike sitting on the ground with his back against the wall. He was pale, his lips bloodless and his phone was on the ground next to him, the screen still lit up but tinged red. Geralt went to him, crouching by him and seeing his bloody hand covering his side, a knife still in him. "He took her. I couldn't--" He swallowed heavily, "I couldn't stop him." The smell of charred flesh reached his nose and Geralt growled, seeing the silver threading around the handle of the blade.

"I need to take the knife out."

"I couldn't stop him. He took her." He was starting to lose consciousness, his words slurring and his eyes closing.

"Mike!" Geralt snapped and he came to with a jolt, looking at him with wide eyes. "Are you ready?" He nodded and Geralt pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, wrapping his hand in it before grabbing the knife. "On three. One. Two." He pulled on two, Mike jerking and a low pained leaving through clenched teeth. He took his phone out, dialing 911. "This is Geralt Rivian, Tracker with the Pack Council, ID number 83742. I need an ambulance behind the club on Fourth and Main. I have a wolf who was stabbed with a silver blade. I removed the knife and he's still breathing, but he's barely conscious and has lost a lot of blood. I'm going to apply pressure to the wound to slow the bleeding, but he needs immediate medical attention." He hung up after getting confirmation, holding the handkerchief to Mike's side, "Ambulance is on its way, I need you to stay awake, okay?" He nodded, but he was already going under again, sliding to the side, Geralt catching him and easing him down to lay on the ground, his hand still to his side. "Mike! Michael!"

[lericekrispie]

With the new TMNT movie coming out soon, me and my brother have been binge watching the 2012 TMNT series!!! It's his first watch through, and its been so nostalgic for me. And as always, I'm addicted to my character designs so I thought I'd share

NOTES:

Age 15: They all get the same uniform the first time they go to the surface, I can imagine Splinter handing the uniform down as a heirloom, or he created it just for them :) they are so young, don't know what they are getting into or who they are yet, just babies. I tried to keep it as turtle inspired as possible

Age 16: They are getting a little older, finding themselves more. They would be getting more into human culture, watching human TV and getting April to get clothes for them so for the first time they can express themselves through their clothes. They keep elements of the uniform throughout the changes, but their clothes grow and evolve with them. Also, Mikey repping the gay and MLM colors :)

Age 17: Around the battle for New York, they had to leave just in the clothes they had, and don't get update clothes until they do the spiritual journey into the forest. They have seen and experienced harder things that have caused them to grow up faster, and have experienced life threatening injuries, and in Leo's case, his leg that for the rest of his outfits will be extra armored.

Age 18: They are more confident in themselves, their fighting style, and while not having a lot of down time, they value it immensely. This is the most free their outfits have been, the most them, without an excessive need to look a certain way. To look tough, to be armored, to be practical. It really is the outfits of where the highest of their skills meet the least unburdened they will be, shortly after this they will dress to send a message or project a certain image, will have seen their father die to shredder, and the world destroyed. Also She/Him Leo and Ace Donnie :)

Age 19: While understanding more who they are, the brothers now have certain ways they are trying to present themselves and the way these burdens have made them try to protect themselves. These outfits are based off of the Shredder Killer outfits. Leo is trying to present as armored, with unbreakable defenses, like a hero or a knight, for his allies to know that she will protect them, and for the enemies to know exactly who she is on the playing field, and hopefully draw attention away from her brothers as the leader. Raph has always presented more punk and tough, but now he shows it more in the jacket he wears, covering more skin, being less confident about where he is going to be hit and if he can take it. The shoulders and hair make him look bigger than he actually is. Donnie goes full practicality mode, adding more spaces for pockets and armor. Mikey also looses some of his colors he wore, in leu of stealth and being safer on the battle field.

Age 20: Set after the show, who knows what happens, but they are now adults and can put some space between what had happened and have time to digest. Leo doesn't un-armor, but she lets her hair grow longer and wears a longer cape, a sign of time passing and growing maturity, as well as taking on the title as the last sensi of the Hamato Clan. Mikey still wears fun clothes, but he has chosen his uniform to be more akin to his childhood uniform splinter gave them, in honor of his memory and their culture (like hes taking his childhood back, not letting the years lost mean his life is over kinda). Donnie only makes a couple adjustments, like covering skin- to show how the events have shaken him and made him feel more vulnerable, but adding more brown into the mix, showing hope and a peace that might be on the horizon. Raph grows into his skin more, loosing the sharp silhouette and having a more rounder one, showing his sharp edges calming down in a time of peace, and letting his hair down as he has time to relax. They all have the Hamato Clan sigil on their clothes :)

If you read that, Just scroll between ages 15 and 20. Crazy shit this is why I die for character design :')

[st4rgi4l]

I bet on losing dogs

A/n this is a avatar x marvel crossover, this based on the movie “black widow” but without Natasha

Warnings: guns, weapons, kinda kidnapping, daddy issues

Character: y/n sully, 6 years old,

2158

Jake and neytiri were watching neteyam, lo’ak , kiri , spider and y/n play together.

Jake made the decision to take y/n to the red room. Jake knew what would happen to her and still he didn’t care since he didn’t really love y/n.

But pretended until he would take her to the red room, sometimes he and y/n would have their moments and Jake kinda enjoyed them but knew not to get too attached to her.

Y/n was a daddy’s girl and will forever will be, well that what she thought, y/n always loved her dad even if he didn’t give her attention, she always thought that she would get her own avatar and be like the rest of her family, like her father and her mom, neytiri.

Jake:” kids time to eat!” Jake yelled.

All the kids , except spider , ran to the hut and sat on the ground by the fire waiting to be served their supper.

Neytiri put there food in a bowl and put it in front of them, right when the food was placed they dug right in since they were starved from all the running.

Jake and neytiri sat with the kids and ate their supper together. This was the last time that Jake will have a supper with his daughter.

Jake:”y/n.”

Y/n:”yea daddy?”

Jake:” you know that adventure that I would take you one day?”

Y/n:” yea why?” She asked.

Jake:”well today is the day that I take you to that adventure.”

Y/n:”really?!”

Jake:”yes and we’re going to go soon so eat up.”

Y/n ate her supper as fast as she can and got ready for the “adventure”.

Y/n didn’t wear Navi clothes so she wore a shirt and some shorts.

Jake:”y/n let’s go!”

Y/n:” coming daddy!”

Y/n walks out her part of the hut and takes Jake’s hand.

When she’s walking away neteyam whistles and y/n whistles back, he and y/n and a whistle when they would see each other or say goodbye to each other.

Y/n looks behind her shoulder and see neteyam, lo’ak and kiri waving, y/n smiled at them and waved back.

1 HOUR LATER

Y/n:” daddy my feet hurttt” y/n whined.

Jake:”we almost there star almost there.”

He and y/n made it to a opening and saw dreykov

Jake walked up to him and talked to him.

Y/n was confused but then she got grabbed by someone but kicked them.

Dreykov and Jake saw the commotion and looked at y/n.

Y/n was running towards them yelling “daddy, daddy!” But was grabbed by the wrist and she started screaming and sobbing.

Jake walked towards her and said “ y/n it’s okay okay? You’re gonna be a big girl and be good for me okay? Take care of yourself my star.”

Y/n was confused why was he telling her that,

She wanted to say something but got drugged and passed out and got carried to a plane and got placed on a bed.

While they were carrying her she dropped her teddy bear which she named star because she loved stars and her nickname was “star”

But little did she know that star was going to fall.

Jake picked up the teddy bear and looked at it.

Dreykov:” that one has fire in her.”he said

Jake:”yea she does she is a star after all.”

Jake walked back to the hut and saw his family asleep and he smiled and layed down with neytiri.

The thing is that the “star” has already fallen.

A/n omfg😓 this sucks asf😭