#you saw my crusty notes no you didn’t

[elore813]

Late to the party again but look at them

[hobicakess]

Wonderful World — JJK One-Shot Series

SUMMARY: The world had gone to shit just like many had theorized. The living was not only fighting the dead, but they were also fighting against themselves and each other. Jeon Jungkook has been in the field by himself for months, living off of scraps, his own rules of survival, and barely enough water. Along the way, he finds a ditzy girl spoiled girl ironically Princess and her crusty white dog. He understood they'd be a handful, but he was Jeon Jungkook, and he could handle anything.

RATING: 18+ (im not the momma you are in control of what you consume.)

PAIRING: Jeon Jungkook x Bimbo!reader

CONTENT WARNING: apocalypse!au, gore, blood, ditzy!reader, angst, slow burn, eventual established relationship, jungkook is sighing every three seconds, eventual smut, crusty white dog (yes that's a warning), minor character death, named reader, corrupt dystopian society, meanie jungkook, princess is just a girl, more to be added AUTHORS NOTE: i am back in my zombie apocolyse era!!!! this is heavily inspired by zombie land because i love it sososo much. the post for this story will be in shorts pushing 1k- 3k? words and my ask box is always open to request and thoughts for this series. If you are new to my blog welcome hottie! be sure to check out my other works, you"ll love it over here xxx

Jungkook had strict rules.

Four sips of water a day, only eat when his stomach is cramped to the point of when he couldn't walk, never sleep over an hour, don't let anyone in. He didn't need extra weight slowing him down from his destination. Was he being hard on himself? Maybe. Since losing his group in an unexpected ambush all those months ago he couldn't bring himself to be softer on his habits even if he had more than enough resources to keep him alive and breathing for the year. He was guilty, and angry. Angry at himself and angry at the world for what it had come too. Despite his personal angst Jungkook refused to die holding onto the hope he would finally reunite with his six soulmates.

Another unspoken rule of his was to never walk upon the main roads. Stay away from those maniacs dressed in military clothes and those who drove military trucks. So he stuck to the shadows, camouflage into the trees with stealthy movements. Quick and quiet, never stay in one place longer than two days. He's been in here for at least a day spending that time securing the area and everything around it before he could properly set up his base in the abandoned thrift store he found. Hopefully he could get as much rest as a person could during the end of the world. As he tracked back to his base swiftly moving through the tree-line with the new finds he managed to scavenge. He stopped when he heard a squeal that didn't sound like the parasites that took over the world. Peeking through the green he saw a woman. A frown taking over his handsome features as his eyes rake her clothing.

A tiny pink cropped tank top, tight denim shorts that had jeweled pockets, ripped black fishnets and wedged heels that threw him off more than the unethical outfit. On her back was a clear backpack and inside was a tiny sleeping dog who was unaware of the life or death circumstances their owner happened to be in. Surrounding her were geeks groaning and growling, taking swipes at her. Their only objective is to eat,eat, eat.

Jungkook didn’t deal with other people, for obvious reasons but he was still the selfless Jeon Jungkook who couldn’t turn his back on anyone, especially a woman clearly in need of his help. So he quickly jumped from the trees, holding onto his crow bar tightly and as he approached the woman and the group of zombies.

Until she screeched, "You broke my nail" pulling out a knife from her thigh garter taking down all four of the dead. Breathing heavily she blew a curl from her face as she turned, jumping at the sight of Jungkook's large frame looming over her with his crowbar up as if he was ready to attack her. She squeaks gathering herself into a tiny fighting position as she points her knife at him and he notices the handle was decorated with a dark skinned hello kitty print.

“You’re literally so sexy. I’d let you kill me as long as I’m in a chokehold.” Her big brown eyes trailed to his beefy tattooed and tanned arms causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. Clearing his throat he put his weapon down turning on his thick soled heels back into the ditch disappearing into the greenery. She wasn’t in any danger anymore so he wasn’t needed.

“You know it’s not very nice to leave a lady unattended in the middle of a road especially during an apco-" he was quick to grab her, shoving her down against the tree trunk. He smacked against her mouth, as a group of military men began to drive along the side of the road closest to them. His eyes met her wide ones as she blinked her wispy lashes at him. His gaze trails over the freckles that danced over her button nose, and cheeks, slight blood splatter caked there along with her forehead. She giggles quickly as he removes his hand from her mouth revealing a bright and pearly smile.

"Kinky." his lip curls in annoyance as he turns his back on her again.

“You can’t just leave us! Me and Minnie are great company.” He stopped walking when he heard the name of her dog minnie. Who's been surprisingly quiet through the whole ordeal. Looking over his shoulder at her, he then shaking his head, he continued on taking longer steps.

“Okay I get it silent and boarding, dark and mysterious, tall, tanned, and handsome.She rambled on scurrying behind him.

“Whew you know what hulk- ACK!” a thud echoed through the trees making him turn seeing her fallen to her knees in mud. She sniffles as she tries to stand on her feet, failing miserably only getting her hands dirty in the process.

"They leave me all alone, take my stuff, then I break a freaking nail because of those nasty freaks, now I'm covered in mud following around an avenger who doesn't even. . ."

She's fully sobbing now, fat tears falling down her chubby cheeks as she gives up moving. "Just strike me downnnn"

Again his selfless heart was aching as he winced. He grumbles as he stomps towards her reaching his own hand out for her to take, after all this he couldn't find it in himself to just leave her not now. She sniffles as she looks up at him, then stares at his hand. With another pretty smile she takes it, letting him pull her upright, allowing her to rub her muddy hands on his black tank top with a defeated sigh.

“Thanks Thor.”

Huffing he began walking again this time slower so she wouldn't lose him. As he gets to the brick wall that seperates the forest from the store. She stares up at it and swallows hard. “How are we gonna get up there?”

Rolling his eyes Jungkook pulls his backpack off of his back, throwing it over the wall. He reaches towards her and she gasp, “You are not throwing my precious Minnie over that wall!” Stepping back from him a pout set on her lips. He shrugs and begins to climb up, leaving her there to watch as he disappears over the wall. Pouting and huffing, she removes her backpack from her back, strapping it in the front just in case she falls on her ass. “I'm way too pretty for this”

Scaling the wall she walked along it ignoring Hulks loud huffs and tapping of his boots. That's when she found a hole there big enough for her to fit through happily making her way through.

Jungkook might just leave her there on the other side of the wall. Hopefully she'll use whatever's there in her brain to find her way over the wall with her crusty white dog who he wished he could sleep like. He jumps at the tap on his shoulder turning to her standing behind him hands behind her back as she gave him a closed lip smile puffing the apples of her cheeks rocking back and forth on her wedges. “Guess what hulky.”

He raises a pierced eyebrow as she points in the direction she came from. “Found a hole in the wall!! You didn't even have to climb over silly.”

The happiness in her face fell as Jungkooks face hardened. Storming over to the said hold, cursing. He could have sworn he sweep the whole perimeter. How could this have gotten under his nose? He turns back to you standing pouty and confused. Since the first time meeting him Jungkook opens his mouth to speak.

“Good job princess” his voice deep and hoarse from not using it for months.

"OMG how'd you know my name" She smiles practically bouncing on her feet from the praise and his attention, twirling on a piece of her hair like a school girl with a crush. Shaking his head he turned back to fix the wall.

Inside of the thrift store, Jungkook listened quietly to her ramble about her love for thrifting and how she would rather thrift than online shop. Then he watched her get teary eyed again over not being able to online shop anymore. “It's just not fair!!! Like I was living the most barbie dream girl life, ya know?”

Accepting the tissue he handed to her staring at the sleeping dog in her lap. “Then bam the Internet shuts off, then boom my freaking neighbor tries to eat me.”

“Like I'm just a girl! I'm not fit for this at all.” Blowing her nose into the tissues finishing her tantrum while Jungkook debated on what to say. “I watched you knife four geeks by yourself, I think you're doing pretty good.”

“ Really?”

“Really?”

She giggles sniffing, as she held out her hand. “I’m Princess Marie sorry for the late introduction ‘s very rude.

Clasping his hand into hers, “Jeon Jungkook. Don't worry about it too much.”

His gaze drifted to her bloody broken nail.

“Let's clean this up, kay?”

Eagerly she nodded dark curls bouncing.

“Mmkay kookie”

Jungkook wouldn't admit it out loud but being in the presence of another human being that wasn't trying to kill him was nice. He knew that princess and her crusty dog would be a handful but he was willing to deal with it. Plus he missed being called by his favorite nickname.

- © hobicakess ! do not steal, modify, copy, plagiarize, nor repost any of the works on this blog without given permission!

[euphorajeon]

the love upon your eyes | jjk

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff | college au

— word count: 0.9k

— warnings: soft jk, llike very soft, shirtless jk, that's it haha

— summary: when your mind is cloudy with sleep, jeongguk takes the opportunity to gaze at you, lovingly.

— author's note: broo did you all see how cool jeongguk was in golden live on stage... our best friend for real... also the gcf in budapest is really boxer!gguk coded hhh i got whiplash watching it. anyways. hope you enjoy this little bit of something from boxer!gguk !!! (ps. this is basically in the sheets but with the roles reversed :> )

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

You’ve known Jeongguk for as long as you can remember. His annoying presence seemed to cement itself in your life, not allowing you to have a day without some memories of him. Jeongguk who always sang on the way home from school. Jeongguk who was there when you almost drowned when you were ten. Jeongguk who made fun of your hair in middle school. Jeongguk who had a colorful t-shirt phase in high school. Jeongguk who moved to another city for university.

It felt weird when he left, not having someone follow you around just to pester you, but eventually, it felt peaceful. You’re able to make new friends, study properly, and enjoy your time as a new university student. Jeongguk still texted you occasionally, giving you updates of his life and bantering with you whenever he wanted (when you protested, he said he’d only done that because he was bored. You’d given him the middle finger emoji which he laughed off.)

Jeongguk’s been annoying all of his life, so when he showed up at your doorstep two years after the last time you saw him, you expected nothing less. He truly didn’t change, still the same Jeongguk who brushed off your shocked concerns and responded with teasing remarks instead. So much teasing, so much tempting, until you lost it and kissed him right on his pierced lips.

All of that tells you that Jeongguk will always be annoying. Endearing, but annoying. Loving, but annoying.

So imagine how you feel when one morning, your whole world tilts on its axis when you open your eyes to Jeongguk gazing at you, lovingly. Most of his body is covered in his white blankets, only his shoulders and arms are visible, one of which is covering the bottom part of his face. You can only see his nose and eyes, again obstructed by the unruly strands of his hair, but those eyes tell everything. They tell you that Jeon Jeongguk is looking at you with all the love he has stored in his heart, without even a pinch of the annoying twinkle he usually has hidden somewhere in the flecks of his orbs.

Jeongguk lets out a chuckle through his nose when you groan.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he says, words muffled by his arm still covering his mouth. “Did you sleep well?”

Your barely-open eyes narrow into slits, blurring his form in your vision into a mush of white, black, and skin color. Despite that, you know the sound he just let out is another chuckle through the nose, now even more endeared. “Who are you, and what have you done to my Jeongguk?”

It sounds sassy in your head, your usual tone when talking to your boyfriend, but you don’t know that it only sounds like a jumbled mess in Jeongguk’s ears. Your whole body is still heavy with sleep, the tiny functioning part of your brain only recognizing the love in Jeongguk’s eyes that is so peculiar until your brain fails to aid to your ability to speak clearly. You don’t have to worry, though, because the tiny laugh that rumbles through Jeongguk’s chest tells you that he understood your words perfectly.

“Why so cranky, babe?” Jeongguk reaches out a tattooed hand to pinch lightly at your cheek. “Was last night not enough?”

You’re in the middle of turning around, intending to ignore Jeongguk’s soft stare and confront it later when you’re more awake, but his question makes you pause. Focusing your crusty eyes on him, you just realize that he’s not wearing any shirt, his arms and shoulders bare for you to see. Oh, he must have been looking at you with so much love pouring out of his eyes for you to miss the tattooed bulging biceps on display. This is bad.

Okay, back to his question. Last night, he said?

Your hands automatically pat down your body, which, thankfully, is covered by a t-shirt. You even still have your pajama shorts on. What does he mean by last night?

Apparently you voiced that aloud, with confusion written all over your sleepy face.

“Alright, alright, we didn’t go all the way last night,” Jeongguk laughs—he’s really cheerful considering the time of day, you notice—while coaxing the crease between your eyebrows away with his fingers. “Made out for a while on the bed, but you kinda slipped away from the kiss in the middle of it. I guess you were too tired, so I let you sleep instead.”

You didn’t remember anything from last night. Maybe he’s right, exhaustion took over your entire body that your brain just didn’t store any memories for a few hours. So, you ask the one sensible thing your brain could conjure up right now: “Did I leave you with a hard-on?”

Your eyes are nearly closed again, so you don’t see the amused expression Jeongguk has on his face. “If I tell you yes, would you apologize for it?”

“Mhm, sorry,” you mumble non-commitally.

There’s a few seconds pause. Then, “That’s it? No snarky remarks about how you don’t have to apologize for my bodily function?” Jeongguk asks, still amused by your lack of bite.

“Mhm,” you hum again. “Wanna go back to sleep…” You’re interrupted by a big yawn, “if argument, no sleep…”

Jeongguk has to bite his lip to prevent himself from breaking into a huge grin as he reaches for you, tugging your form closer to his so you can place your head on his chest. He envelops you in his arms, completely engulfing your frame with his big build. You drape your arm lazily on his waist, let him tangle his legs with yours. Jeongguk then drops a kiss on your head, one you barely register because your brain starts succumbing back to sleep.

“Sleep tight, sleepyhead,” he whispers before smiling to himself. 

“I’ll still love you even if you gave me blue balls in the middle of the night.”

a/n: thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed this little ball of fluff hehe. help me improve by giving me feedback in my askbox or here! :D

[lostloveletters]

Something Borrowed (Michael Corleone x Reader)

Summary: Michael Corleone is the last person you expect to see at your best friend Connie’s wedding, and the last thing you expect to happen upon seeing him again after so many years is spending the night together. Maybe, it'll turn into something more.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No hate to Kay, she’s my girl, but wedding scene Michael drives me crazy🤭 She’s off living her best life elsewhere in this. Also, it was a lot of fun writing pre-everything Michael. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving unprotected sex. Light play fighting.

Champagne and giggles overflowed at Connie Corleone’s wedding to Carlo Rizzi. Plenty of red wine was passed around in pitchers for the old guard, of course. For you and the other women conscious of not staining the rainbow of cocktail dresses and flowing gowns that dotted the backyard, you opted for lighter fare in tall flutes that sparkled in the early autumn sun. 

Perhaps you were a bit too enthusiastic about the drink offerings, having already exchanged three empty champagne glasses for ones filled to the brim with glittering gold when the bride engulfed you in a hug. With a delighted laugh, you returned the gesture, kissing her cheek.

“I wanted to say thank you one more time for coming!” Connie exclaimed, her cheeks flushed pink from the excitement of the day. “God, it breaks my heart we couldn’t have gotten you a bridesmaid dress in time, but you look gorgeous.”

“Me? Connie, you look like a princess.”

“I feel like one,” she giggled.

“When you see your gift from me—I’m sorry it’s not more, I haven’t—”

“Stop it!” she scolded. “You came all the way from Europe just to be at my wedding. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

You didn’t bother correcting her. Her version of events sounded much nicer than you just got lucky with when the Red Cross put you on a boat home. “Anything for you.”

“I won’t keep you. This is probably the first time you’re eating real food in years. Mama, Sandra, and Theresa made most of it.”

Connie was right. You tried to savor your plate, packed with pasta drowned in homemade sauce, antipasto and crusty bread, and sandwiches that towered with fresh cold cuts. The Corleones knew a thing or two about good food, and had the means to pull the strings for the unfathomable ration books such a feast required.

A familiar yet unexpected voice startled you when your fork pierced a piece of mozzarella. “Is this seat taken?”

“Michael,” you practically gasped, taken aback by his even attending the wedding in the first place, but also how good he looked in his uniform. Cap tucked under his arm, medals and decorations on his chest, the photos you’d seen in the magazine didn’t do him justice. Finding yourself again, you gestured to the empty seat across from you. “Go ahead.”

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you, but you look great,” he said, his gaze fixed on you as he set his plate and glass down. He took you in, the girl he’d grown up seeing around the house and at school, now, without a doubt, a woman.

“You too, Captain,” you said, nodding toward the double bars on his uniform.

He snickered at your little joke, making you feel a bit more at ease in his presence. “I’m surprised you aren’t in the wedding party.”

“Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I was going to make it until a few days ago. I only just got back to New York on Thursday,” you said.

“You volunteered with the Red Cross, didn’t you?”

You nodded. “I was in England, and then France after the liberation.”

“Clubmobile, right?”

“Did Connie tell you?”

He shook his head, smiling the slightest bit. “All the pretty girls worked the Clubmobile.”

A mortifyingly girlish giggle escaped your lips. You quickly brought your glass to your mouth, though the champagne in it was likely the culprit of your embarrassing reaction to Michael’s compliment. Averting your eyes to the dancing guests, you tried to ignore the warmth that spread across your face.

You allowed yourself to look at him again a few moments later, relieved to find he was still sitting in front of you, amused, maybe even endeared, by you.

“You’re such a jerk, Michael,” you mumbled, only because he was your friend’s older brother, and when you were younger and starry-eyed and figuring out what it meant when your heart wouldn’t quite beat right around a boy, it was him who those tender emotions were kindled in secret toward—until you had your first real boyfriend.

He grinned at your remark, and the two of you ate and caught up in between his various family members stopping by the table to say hello. You weren’t sure what to make of his seeing you before any of them—flattered, a bit confused as well, but he laughed at your jokes and moved his seat closer to yours, so you must have been doing something right when he finally asked, “Do you want to dance?”

“I’d love to,” you said.

The chaos from Johnny Fontaine’s unexpected arrival and impromptu performance subsided when Michael led you out to dance. He held you close, the way soldiers had at the dances the Red Cross put on for servicemen, all to boost morale, or, as the war went on, to offer a break from reality. Among the many rules meant to be followed—and typically broken in one way or another in the haze of war—was to keep some emotional distance from the enlisted men, for your sake and their own, but with bodies so close together, tender touches and soft whispers over songs of twilight and moonbeams, it was tough not to be caught up in romance’s alluring snare.

Even then, with the war behind both of you, something about being in Michael’s arms made you truly understand why some girls risked their assignments for a man. There was something in how he looked at you, different from your childhood together, even from a few minutes prior. You felt breathless despite the slow song you swayed along to.

“Did you like Paris?” he asked quietly, throwing you for a loop.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Paris?”

“You were in France, weren’t you?”

“Not Paris.”

“Where in France were you slinging doughnuts, then?”

“Little villages a few miles out from the front, mostly. More cows than people, but nice enough once the fighting stopped, and it was finally quiet—as quiet as it could get, anyway,” you said. “When Connie wrote you’d been wounded, I couldn’t help but think the worst. Plenty of guys out there—well, that article sure put me at ease. All the girls were jealous when I said I knew you.” You smiled. “I’m glad you’re alright, Michael.”

He glanced at your lips, and for an aching moment you were sure he was going to kiss you, but instead he gave you a smile, one that was real and made your heart flutter nevertheless, but left you disappointed.

“Where are you staying since you’ve been back?” he asked.

He seemed familiar with the hotel you were staying in when you mentioned it, offering to drive you back after the reception ended, and Connie and Carlo left for their honeymoon. 

“It’s only until I can find a boarding hotel that has space,” you said. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be the Barbizon, but I’m not moving back in with my parents.”

“Here’s to that.”

The rest of the day and into the evening, Michael hung around you, unless he was pulled away by members of his family, each instance an annoyance to him. You knew they weren’t exactly supportive of his enlisting, but the situation couldn’t have been that bad, not since he was home, safe and sound at his sister’s wedding.

The Corleones, though endlessly kind to you, always been an odd family, and you learned through your friendship with Connie not to ask too many questions.

But Genco Abbandando was dying, and Vito insisted Michael go with the rest of the Corleone men to pay his respects to the elder. When you offered to take a cab back to your hotel, Michael promised the visit wouldn’t be long, suggesting you wait at the house with his mother until he returned to drive you into the city.

Your foolish desire to spend more time with him led to your waiting in the Corleones’ kitchen for a little over an hour, when you likely would’ve been showered and in bed in your hotel room by the time he arrived back for you, in one hell of a hurry to get you into his car and presumably get away from his family.

“Do you ever think about leaving New York?” he asked when the house was out of view.

You laughed. “Michael, I only just got back.”

“That’s not what I mean. The war—it wasn’t going to be forever, but it let you see what life could be like away from all of this, didn’t it?”

“Of course it did. I’m honestly not sure what I’m going to do with myself now,” you said. “How about you? Are you going back to school? Dartmouth, I mean.”

He nodded. “I start again the spring semester.” At a red light, he glanced over at you. “New England’s nice. Better than French cow country.”

“And do you suppose I could study in the department of pouring coffee and serving doughnuts?”

“You’re smart. I think you have a real future,” he said, the sincerity in his voice startling you. “All of that back there, that’s not for us. It never has been.”

You were silent for a few moments. “I guess you’re right.”

The city lights twinkling in the distance took the place of the stars they blocked out from the sky, growing larger as Michael crossed the bridge into Manhattan, the center of the universe. You’d never tell a soul how you cried just a few days prior upon seeing it again for the first time in years.

Besides his talk of the future, Michael kept the conversation light, and you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you. Working the Clubmobile, you learned quickly how to pick up on it, some men laying it on thick while others were irresistibly smooth. Michael could’ve easily just been teasing you, the way a friend’s older brother would, but when he pulled up to your hotel, either your ego or curiosity prompted you to invite him up for a drink.

You sobered up on the drive into the city, enough to remember you didn’t have any drinks in your room. The two of you would have to go to the hotel bar for that, but then you and Michael wouldn’t be alone, not how you wanted, anyway.

To your relief, he agreed.

With Michael in uniform, few questions would be asked by hotel staff as to why you suddenly had a man with you when you checked in on your own. It would have been easy to lie, claim he was your fiance who had only just gotten back Stateside. But you supposed you and Michael already looked the part, walking arm-in-arm through the lobby without an issue.

Your confidence soared on the elevator ride up to your modest room, which you let Michael into, knowing he wouldn’t judge the state of your accommodations.

“Mind if I make myself comfortable?” You didn’t wait for his answer, pulling your blouse from where it’d been tucked in your skirt. Slipping out of your heels, you sighed softly in relief.

“It’s your place,” he said, setting his coat over the chair in the corner and loosening his tie.

You grabbed his cap from where he set it down and placed it on your head, tilting the brim over your face a bit and posing in front of him with a hand on your hip. “How do I look?”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, giving you a once over, “I swear I saw you pinned up in some guy’s tent looking just like that.”

You laughed, taking the cap off and flinging it aside. “Oh, I don’t even know why I invited you up here!” Your laughter faded as something in your stomach turned sour, the situation feeling achingly too good to be true. Alone in a hotel room with Michael, the two of you entirely capable of making your own mistakes on the off chance he wanted you too. “Or why you even agreed to come up.”

“I didn’t come up here to drink.”

“No, you did it to be nice, because we’ve known each other for so long…” You sighed, sitting next to him. “I always figured you thought of me as your kid sister’s annoying little friend or something.”

He shook his head, saying your name softly in either protest or reassurance. His hand cupped your face as he turned it toward him, his thumb rubbing soft circles in your cheek. “Not for a long time. Especially not tonight.”

You kissed him, hands gripping his shoulders, closing your eyes as you melted in his embrace. Your skin feverish at his touch, you shuddered when his hand slipped up your untucked blouse until his fingertips reached your bra.

To say you hadn’t fantasized about Michael would have been an unconvincing lie to anyone who dared ask, but even in your wildest dreams, it was never quite like this, so bold and irreverent in the face of the tradition the two of you had just spent the day celebrating.

“I came up here because you’re beautiful,” he confessed against your lips, “because you’re the only familiar face I saw at my sister’s wedding that didn’t make me wish I were somewhere else.”

Silencing him with another kiss, your fingers raked through his soft black hair as your body pressed flush against his, unsure if you could withstand hearing more of his tender words without falling to pieces. You couldn’t, not so early in the night, but his desire grew difficult to ignore when he pulled you onto his lap. The pressure against your pussy made you moan, and with a hasty desperation, you shimmied out of your panties as he unbuckled his belt, freeing his hard cock within a few moments.

You slipped a hand between the two of you, pumping his length, feeling the way it twitched at your touch and gasping when Michael’s hips bucked. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a whisper of an intent to devour you.

“I need you, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Need to feel you.”

Lifting your hips, you whimpered upon feeling his head brush your clit as you positioned yourself, slowly lowering as he filled you, cock throbbing against your walls that clenched around him. He assuaged the pain of taking all of him with a gentle kiss and soft praises, urging you to take your time, that you had all night together.

All night. The promise he would stay, at least until the morning, sent a teasing wave of pleasure through you. Gripping his shoulders, you tried to keep a steady pace as you rode him, wanted to show him that staying would be worth his while. He’d been right in the car, you wouldn’t be a virginal, wedding white bride. The both of you had seen and experienced too much to be considered innocent any longer, but it was something you shared, that no one else from that day would have understood.

Your thighs ached as you neared your climax, desperately chasing it despite the exhaustion that was creeping up on you. Crying out in frustration, you buried your face in the crook of Michael’s neck.

“I’m close,” you whined. “Michael, I—”

“I’ve got you,” he assured you, his hands making their home on your hips. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let him guide your body, his thrusts doing most of the work while you rocked against him, seeking the friction against your clit that would bring you to release. It caught in your throat, a broken groan from your lips to his ears as you came, clenching around him, pleasure rolling through you, rattling your body like thunder. You barely caught your breath when he came, shuddering against you, practically cradling you against him as he filled you.

With a whimper, you lifted yourself off of him and rolled back onto the bed. Placing your hand on your chest, you felt your rapidly beating heart beneath your fingertips, focusing on it as it slowed the following minute or so and ignoring the stickiness between your legs, the evidence you slept with your best friend’s older brother. 

Michael leaned over, brushing back the hair that stuck to your face. “What are your plans tomorrow?”

“Looking through the classifieds for a job,” you said honestly.

“Wanna put it off for a day?”

“With what money, Michael?”

“I’ll give you a line of credit.”

You grabbed one of the pillows from behind you, throwing it at him with a laugh. “Jerk!”

He grinned, pushing it aside to grab for one of your arms. You put up a weak fight, your breathless laughter giving away his almost certain win.

Having pinned you down beneath him, he pressed you for an answer. “So?” He kissed you. “What do you say, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “I guess I can clear my schedule for a dashing war hero like you.”

“Dashing, I like the sound of that,” he murmured, bringing his lips to yours again, softly, with a tenderness that promised more for tomorrow, and even the day after, if you’d have him. 

You smiled. “Me too.”

[prodshima]

love languages (two) 𖤐

warnings: signs of mental instability (?), idk but that's about it, it's all just fluff <3 tell me if i missed anything :)

characters: kuroo & hajime

notes: in honor of me turning seventeen today, here is the part two of love languages! <3 i hope im not too rusty crusty haha :D!

-> click here for: [ part one ]

kuroo tetsuro - acts of service

kuroo tetsuro is a man who never fails to reach the book men level of standard.

you think that maybe he’s not actually real and some kind of illusion, because how could be a man be so perfect?

well, apparently he is and you must’ve saved multiple planets because for whatever reason— he’s your boyfriend in this universe.

—

“baby? i brought you your favorite coffee and some pastries” the said man says as he pushes the bedroom door open

you quickly turn around to the sweet voice of your boyfriend, he’s wearing the biggest grin on his face that reciprocates yours while holding up your favorite coffee in his hand and bread on the other

just like a child when they’re given their favorite stash of candy.

“matcha latte?” you scramble away from your where you’re sat in to where he is, kicking away the scattered tissue boxes and paper bags

kuroo chuckles, pecking your forehead lightly “mhm, you got it, baby. you feeling better now?”

you nod, “uh uh, i’m doing okay now, just doing my physics assignments to catch up for tomorrow and i still have some cleaning to do… i think im gonna get sick again if i don’t”

sounds of laughter fills up the room as the both of you glance around the room, looking at each other again with a scrunch

“i’ll help you clean up and don’t overwork yourself, okay? don’t wanna see my baby getting sick again” kuroo laughs as he pinches your cheek before moving to sit on your bed, reaching into his bag

“oh and here’s your physics and maths notes, baby, i figured i could use my vacants to attend a couple of your missed classes” sounds of rustling follows as he hands you neatly highlighted papers

your mouth drops open in shock

just the thought that your boyfriend chose to spend his free time writing notes for his sick partner and listened to professors ramble for god knows how long instead of enjoying his once-in-a-lifetime rest hours

kuroo knows how much you struggle with these classes, not to mention that you’ve missed a couple days because of how sick you got.

“god, you didn’t have to do all that but thank you so much, tetsu, i love you a lot” you snake your hands around his neck to pull him down, kissing his lips

“well i got my reward, didn’t i?”

he smirks

sneaky little shit.

iwaizumi hajime - words of affirmation

it’s one of those days again.

those days where your ugly thoughts are winning over you and swallowing you whole, leaving you in a state of insecurity about yourself and your relationship with other people

it’s crazy how doubt can take over those positive thoughts you’ve tried to build over the months, only for it to be ruined by some evil monster inside your head that’s so against seeing you happy— there’s only so much you can do and you hate to think that it has succeeded.

but then iwaizumi hajime is always there to protect you.

he becomes your personal shield from all those monsters with just his words, his words that have seems to always save you from getting those thoughts into your head

-

“darling, is there something wrong?” hajime asks, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, worry evident on his face

how come he always knows even when you don’t say anything?

you wonder how, when it’s actually the silence that concerns him, he knows that you love making small talks with him just as he loves hearing your voice when you ramble about your day

it has become a part of your routine at this point, whether it's about your annoying professors, how you almost tripped over something, and even just about a cute dog you saw for two seconds on the street

and he's also powerhouse setter for god's sake, he's always perceptive and is quick when it comes to body languages and whatever happens around him

“it’s nothing, haj, i'm fine. just a little bit tired from school.” you whisper as you tiptoe to give him a kiss but instead, a gasp is forced out of you as he carries you bridal style into to the bedroom

hajime kicks through the door, still rubbing circles on your leg. he knows you're not feeling good and just don't wanna be a "hindrance", but to him, nothing and no one is more important than you

and you know this, but those ugly thoughts just disagrees and wants you to be miserable about every little thing. you hate that no matter what you do, they still manage push their way in and ruin your day

hajimes kisses your forehead and the tip of your nose lightly, "i don't wanna force you to talk about it if you're not ready just yet but remember that i'm all ears, okay? i love you so much, baby, you're perfect for me, always and whatever's bothering you is our problem, mhm?"

he must be an angel— you think, he's always patient with you and doesn't belittle you for having your moments of weaknesses that he says is a disguise of strength and that you being there with him despite everything makes you one of the bravest people out there

perhaps, he is — and you're one lucky person to be able to call him yours.

[danosrosegarden]

this could build us a home - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{contains: very mild religious references, descriptions of stalking, and mentions of smoking.}

{note: this piece was a paid commission, and i have permission to share it publicly. find out more about commissioning a piece from me in my pinned post.}

☽ What if Edward Nashton wasn’t alone in his suffering? What if the pitch black, grime-infested hellscape he spent each day zombie-stumbling through was also the sunshineless wasteland that you shivered and wandered through, too? What if his stomach wasn’t the only one glazed over with a thick, slimy, goopy layer of churning, crawling disgust and disdain for everything he saw? What if you saw through the same cloudy, weary eyes? What if there was you?

☽ You’d wake each day with a throbbing headache and aching bones. Your body was tired, your soul was weeping, your heart was heavy, your eyes were red from crusty sleep scratching at the whites–but there was work. There was always work to be done, something to check off the to-do list.

☽ At first, Edward feels bad for watching. For internet stalking. For trailing a few concrete slabs behind you while you walked home from work. He really can’t explain what drew him to you. It was like a magnet. Like there was some pheromone in your weakly glimmering aura that he couldn’t get enough of. You smelled like something familiar, you tasted like something irresistible. You carried with you the same tired, fed-up ambience that he had lugged behind him for his own entire miserable life. There was something cracking and crumbling apart inside of you. It was something only another broken person could recognize.

☽ He justified the nights he’d spend with his stomach in knots, wishing he had the courage to follow for just a little bit longer before turning the street corner and avoiding suspicion. He had no malicious intent coursing through his veins as he got up early to watch your morning commute to work from his own apartment across the street, this you must understand. He’d calm the guilt coiling and knotting in his gut with this: I just want to make sure they’re safe. That’s true, in his own odd way.

☽ What he didn’t know was this: you’d also had your eyes peeled, your teeth sharp for any scrap of Edward you could get your hands on.

☽ You hadn’t been working together for long. Your desks were across the office from each other. You didn’t even live in the same apartment complex. But Edward Nashton was some missing remedy for your water-logged, disintegrating life, you were simply sure of it.

☽ You weren’t sure how to describe it. A crushing schoolchild, scribbling your first name with Edward’s last in a notebook, surrounding the words with sparkling gel pen hearts? Maybe a dying sinner, weeping at the blood-stained cross for mercy. However you spun it, a spell had been placed over your everyday life. You wanted to share each moment with him, let him see all that had been stomped and spat on. As if what, he could heal it? Well, it sounded idiotic, but your heart scratched and clawed at your chest for any piece of him you could get.

☽ Maybe you didn’t know that Edward followed you home after work or stalked your social media each day, hungry stomach growling for another post. But he didn’t know that you looked out your window and watched him smoke outside the complex, tripping and falling deeper in frothing obsession as you watched him stamp out his cigarette and walk back inside. He didn’t realize how superglued your eyes were to him as you should’ve been working, the pile of papers on your desk growing inches with each look you stole.

☽ Edward Nashton had lived through hell, this was certain. But you…you had walked across the same broiling coals, flames licking at your skin. Perhaps you could create a shelter from the lake of fire together, if only either one of you had the courage.

[lelianasbitch]

DELETED SCENES DELETED SCENES GIVE US DELETE SCENES

Mother Miranda's crusty dusty bootyhole . . .

Alright I get it!

Little side notes:

This scene was before Donna even spoke to Courier.

If it wasn't already clear in my story, the portrait of Donna doesn't exist. In this scene it does.

Originally, I put Donna as tall in this scene but I just changed it to be closer to Courier's height.

Maybe I'll include something like this in a chapter . . . who knows.

You didn’t hear the footsteps on the other side, so when the door moved, you jumped. It only opened an inch. The door creaked as it was tugged again but refused to budge. You heard a tiny grunt at each tug, and you couldn’t help but look through the crack.

On the other side was Lady Beneviento attempting to get the door open but failing. She gestured for you to wait a minute. You nodded and stepped back as she forced the door closed. Instead of trying to open it again, she opened the other door. Thankfully, it was less resistant.

“Hi!” Angie happily greeted.

“Good morning. How’re you two today?”

“Pretty good! Donna just started a commission.”

“I bet it will look beautiful,” you said, acknowledging Angie before returning your gaze to Lady Beneviento. “Your work is always stunning.”

She bowed her head.

“What happened with your door?” you asked as you handed her the small package.

“I dunno, shit’s old,” Angie answered.

You examined the doorway and saw that on the bottom right, the wood was rotting away with a large chunk of it missing. The hinges of the door also looked worn out. There was no doubt that the door jamb and hinges needed to be replaced, but at least the door itself still seemed to be in good shape.

“I could fix it for you, you know.”

Lady Beneviento shook her head again and Angie made an annoyed noise.

“Let her do her job! One of these days that door is going to snap off its hinges.”

“I really don’t mind,” you insisted.

Angie looked up at the doll maker and stared at her. For a moment, they remained quiet as if communicating with their eyes even though Angie couldn’t see Donna’s.

“Okay, but in exchange, Donna will make you a coat!”

“What’s wrong with my coat?”

You looked down at yourself. Admittedly, the grey coat was a little too big on you, but it was the only one available at the time and you liked how warm it kept you considering how bad the winters could get. It was several years old now and may be missing a button, but it still did its job well.

“Seriously?” Angie took the end of your coat between her thumb and index finger and made a disgusted noise. “Trust me, Donna can make you a better one.”

“I don’t want to impose. I know you have other commissions as well and I don’t exactly have the funds to pay you.”

“You don’t have to pay!” Angie said. “If you get sick, then who will deliver our packages? Like we said, you can pay us back by fixing our door.”

Lady Beneviento nodded eagerly. Oh God, did she think your coat was ugly too?

“All right.”

Angie cheered and pulled you into the house as Lady Beneviento closed the door and continued walking further in the house.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“Donna’s gotta measure you, duh!”

Letting the doll guide you, your eyes wandered up, completely enraptured by the high ceiling and the chandelier. You didn’t have the chance to appreciate the architecture the first time you were here, but you were grateful for this second chance. Then, you saw the giant portrait. The moment was brief, but for the first time, you saw Lady Beneviento’s face. And Mother Miranda’s breath she was beautiful. Her subtle and gentle smile was charming as if she was shy about having her portrait done. Angie on the other hand, looked happy to be there.

“C’mon, this way!” Angie said, tugging pant leg and pointing to the door Lady Beneviento was standing by. One hand was pressed against her midriff while the other hung at her side. Her fingers rubbed against each other. She must have not liked you staring at her portrait.

You ducked your head apologetically and entered the living room. There were the dolls on the shelves among the books and one standing alone on the antique cabinet. You expected them to speak and move like Angie, but they remained still and silent. Their eyes were motionless, but you felt like they were watching you. Lady Beneviento gestured for you to wait by the table while she went through one of the drawers of the cabinet while Angie made a grabbing gesture at you with her hands.

“Gimmie your coat.”

You did as you were told, and she hung it on the back of a chair. Then, she scampered off to the desk that was in front of the fireplace and returned with a piece of paper and a pen. The doll climbed onto the chair just as Lady Beneviento turned around to you with a measuring tape in her hands. She wound one end tightly around her index finger as she looked at you. She didn’t say or do anything for a long moment, but you could feel her eyes burning into your skin. You shifted your weight awkwardly under her gaze.

“Lady Beneviento?”

Her head perked up as if she snapped out of a daydream then tilted curiously. Did she forget what you were here for? She seemed to snap out of her reverie and walked behind you. You felt her fingers on your shoulder as she pressed the tape measure on your last vertebrae. Angie started writing something on her piece of paper, but from where you stood, you couldn’t tell what it was. She continued writing more things when Lady Beneviento measured the length of your shoulders and then moved to your arm. She brought the tape down the length of your arm and you began to raise it a bit, thinking it would help, but she gave you a light slap on the wrist.

“Sorry,” you muttered, bringing your arm back to a relaxed position.

She walked around to stand in front of you and lifted both of your arms in a horizontal position at your sides. You knew that she was close to your height, but she had always kept a respectable distance from you which made it difficult to gauge just how tall she was. It looked like she could comfortably rest her head on your shoulder if she wanted. Not that you actually wanted her to, but you wouldn’t mind if she did.

When she moved close to you, you couldn’t help but stiffen in surprise as her veil brushed against your cheek and smelled the familiar scent of wood and paint. It reminded you of your workshop and you couldn’t suppress the smile as you imagined her working late in her workshop on a doll. It was easy to lose yourself in your work and you knew that feeling all too well. Perhaps Lady Beneviento did the same.

Her arms came around you as if she were going to hug you, but she pulled away with the tape measure coming around you and over your chest. Then, after some scratching noises from Angie with her pen, the tape loosened around you to move to your waist where she crouched. Her fingers slipped between the tape and your hip, allowing some extra space to be measured.

Lady Beneviento wrapped the measuring tape up and stood. You put your arms down and shifted uncomfortably as she stared at you silently. A pale hand reached out to you, tugging and rubbing the fabric of your sweater around the collar. Lady Beneviento made a quick exhale through her nose. She clearly seemed displeased.

[asprinbrews]

Chapter 1: Welcome home.

-Wally Darling + Reader

———

It was a day like any other.

Eat, sleep, work, rinse, repeat.

I’m not sure what happened between 17 and 18, but whatever it was sucked the life out of me. And as my Uber took me home on that late Friday night, the whole world flashed by my head like a shooting star. Sitting good and quiet. I noticed my fingernails overgrown, and how dry and cracked my skin was. Like one of those nightmares where your teeth fall out, except my disfigurement was very real.

But what to do? You don’t cure your funk in a night. I had to take a few nights, maybe call in sick. If I got fired for this it’d be a problem.

No. No, I had to stop thinking. It’s not my problem tonight, I reassured myself. So arriving home and settling in, I planned on completely disconnecting. And I engaged in…a guilty pleasure.

My body ached as I pulled out the VHS player, sending dust down my crusty airways. Along came my favorite tape.

The title’d long worn off, but it didn’t matter. It was the only one I kept.

And so I sunk beneath my comforter, biting back my anxiety and letting the fuzz lull in time with my breathing.

Unfortunately I didn’t make it through the intro credits. I never did nowadays.

—

“What’re we s’posed to do about this?!?!”

A squeaky quirky voice pinched my ears between fog and drowsiness, and I felt as a circular object tapped the tip of my nose.

“They aren’t wakin up, Franky!! I’m scared!”

A deep grunt contrasted her whining, “I…” he seemed at a loss for words; I then felt the thing bump me again. A loud wailing followed, which showered an…insane amount of tears onto my face. That was when I finally had the gall to snap my eyes open.

Screaming above me was a big-mouthed girl with big blonde hair, I saw her first. Her colorful clothing fading into the distance as she ran like the devil. And then the other…

Me and Frank blinked slowly at one another. Quietly. A dapper-dressed man with proportions stranger than the girl’s personality. A gray face full of concern and just a little disgust. Like he was looking at a dead body.

I didn’t move, but I eyed the world around me carefully. And for a second I was worried that I had a concussion; the grass, the sky… everything had an antique-like tint to it. And it felt wrong.

“Are you feeling okay?” Like he’d snapped back to reality the man crouched down beside me and dropped his net. I noticed a small bug sit inside it calmly…much unlike a butterfly. “Oh- yes, I’m okay. I’m just…” I scanned the area again, “I’m not sure how I got here.”

“Can you stand up?” He asked, and I pushed myself off the ground. “I’m going to walk you to the neighborhood… we’ll get you some help there.”

The neighborhood? Why did that sound so familiar? “The neighborhood… alright.”

He walked ahead of me, checking back every couple of seconds to make sure I was still behind him.

How did I get here…? More importantly, I had work. I had to get to a phone, as quickly as possible. “Your name’s Frank, right?”

He gasped softly, “how’d you know?”

“I heard it earlier. I’m guessing Franky isn’t your preferred name.”

“Right, right.”

…

“Do you have a phone I could borrow?”

“Heavens no, not right now. Those are far too big to carry around.” He replied, and then it was quiet again.

I noted him down as awkward, which was fine. I was a stranger, anyways. And I probably looked like death. Eventually though we came across houses, and he brought me straight to a big red barn.

Looking it up and down, I was skeptical. But out came whiffs of smells. Baking smells. The kind where you’re not sure if you’re smelling bread, fruit, or pure sugar. Seeing the bird that hussled out in front of us though I started to understand pretty quickly.

Before I had the chance to say anything she was all over me: lifting my arms, pinching my face, and squawking on in a shrill voice. How my face was so pale, my eyebags so big, my posture terrible. “Frank! Where did you find this one?? They look dead! The walking dead! Dead but walking!” Then she sat me down onto a haybale, holding my face in her wings. “Stop walking! You’re going to die!”

I couldn’t see over her big rainbow feathers but I could tell he was just as overwhelmed by this lady as I was. “Excuse me ma’am…” I croaked, “can I…”

She craned her head towards me as I asked, “can I borrow your phone…?”

The chicken loomed over me in a dead silence before I found myself dragged inside and nearly force-fed a multitude of different pastries, which I then tried to pay for. Unsurprisingly this earned another shriek. “What kind of money is this??? Where did you come from??”

“My house! I came from my house!” Like a hostage I lifted my hands up in surrender, and I’d expected another argument from her. But…no. Something clicked behind her eyes, and without speaking she disappeared and returned with a plate.

A plate of apple crisp.

I knew it as soon as I smelled it, feeling my eyes widen as the aroma hit my nose. Like a faint memory, nostalgia panged through my chest and reverberated like a brand new heartbeat as I took that first bite. Marveling in sweet fruit nestled under a warm blanket of thick brown sugar.

Once it was over with I was going to ask- except she’d already disappeared to her phone. A landline. Busy feathered fingers nervously fiddling with the curly wire, I caught bits and pieces of her loud voice. Concerned, suddenly frantic! Then quiet. I leaned in over the table to hear more but then was met with a shriek. “My goodness! Your clothes are getting in your pie!”

Indeed, looking down I realized I’d leaned so far over the table that I’d begun to crush the pastry. Leaving a dark stain on my T-shirt. The bird rushed around and started trying to wrestle it off of me— “No, hey!!” We struggled with the article, she shouted “I need to wash it! Come now!”

“What on earth is going on!?” Gray hands forced us apart and Frank pushed the bird lady for an answer while I caught my breath and smoothed my clothing.

“Look at them! They got their shirt all dirty, I was only trying to wash it.” She huffed, to which Frank pinched his brow with concern. “Polly… that’s beyond impolite!”

“It’s just Y/N!”

The man double-taked for a moment, slowly turning to me then raising a hand skeptically. “No, no… that can’t be right. They’re a lot smaller than that.”

“That’s what I thought!” Polly said, “but look at that face! And you know they loved my apple crisp! It has to be!”

I stood frazzled in front of them as they marveled, “did you just say… my name?”

Slowly stepping forward, Frank reached out as the bird suddenly rushed me. She hovered over me and ripped off my shirt with such momentum to tear the neckline. My arms rushed to cover my body in shock while the grey man swiveled to face the other direction. He shouted, “well they’re far too old for that!”

“Po.. Polly!” But she didn’t seem to hear me, sauntering off to a wash bucket and beginning to soak it. She waved a feather, “now then, go play! I’ll take care of this.”

I felt heat rise to my face, in disbelief at this woman. First she feeds me, then tears my clothes off?? “I’m so confused! And half-naked!” Crying out, even Frank seemed at a loss. He didn’t look and made his way to the door, “I’ll- I’ll find you something to wear! Stay right there!”

So there I was, half-naked in a barn-themed bakery waiting for either Frank to come back or Polly to be done with my shirt. I’d given in at that point. Notably despite Polly being a bird, she was really sentient. I saw other chickens but she was different. At least Frank resembled a man… but she was a straight up chicken.

Then a slow, steady knock came. The barn grew quiet, and it’s large doors creaked open. Standing in the center a silhouette of someone. His voice broke the silence, soft and calm if not monotonous.

“Aw Gee… it has been a very long time, Y/N.”

————-

<a/n>

Hi! Hope you enjoyed the first installment. This is mostly a comfort character series, so things between Wally and reader won’t get very romantic. Still! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. Feel free to ask me questions or give me ideas, since this is in progress!

Bye now! You are the absolute most!

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

To Leave the Abyss

Professor Sharp hates to recognise himself in your eyes.

&

A thirty something Auror Aesop Sharp is failing to come to terms with his predicament.

This was supposed to be a part of one of my WIP. But then I got into it and thought; oof, that's heavy. So it's a standlone. Gif amateurly made by me.

Note: Sharp, Hecat and Ronen knew each other in school. Ronen was oldest, Hecat was youngest and they were in the "I hate PNB" club before it was cool.

TW: Depression, Self-harm, suicidal thoughts, swearing

Sharp wasn’t usually fond of going to the Astronomy tower - the amount of stairs! Tonight however, he felt a certain pull towards the place, and he was glad that he did. It took him a long time to finally climb that spiral staircase, but once he managed to do so, he immediately noticed that he wasn’t alone there. Standing just ahead was a student, and he didn’t even need to guess which student it was. You were shaking like a leaf, your hand holding the handle of your broom in a vice grip, and you stood with your back to him. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” he asked loudly, making you flinch violently and turn around to face him.

The look on your face terrified him, haunted him, because he knew it all too personally. That wide-eyed panic, tinged with chaos and madness. You reminded him of a wounded, caged animal and he could almost feel you considering whether to just throw your broom away and toss yourself off the tower without it.

He remembered that look so well. 

—

He saw it in his own eyes, shortly after he was released from St Mungo’s. He moved around mostly on a wheelchair, using his cane only when absolutely necessary - to dress himself, get into and out of bed, sit on the sofa, use the bathroom. He drank heavily that evening. Like he did everyday since he got home, actually. He was just washing his hands, trying to balance himself on his good leg, the strong liquor making it even more difficult, when he made the mistake of looking up. He saw himself in the mirror. He saw the look. He saw his scar, red and angry and fucking painful. He saw his face. His face was overgrown, scruffy, and his eyes were red, the circles under them so dark they were nearly purple. His hair was a mess. He was a mess. A cripple. He’ll never be able to do his job again. He’ll never see his partner again. He’ll be forever haunted by the memory of seeing her with her wife and son, together in an embrace. He lost everything. He lost everything.

The pain in his leg seared, raw and agonising, and Aesop screamed. He brought his arms up in unhinged madness and he lunged forward, bringing his fisted hands against the mirror. There was a cathartic sound of glass shattering and he nearly felt relieved when he felt pain somewhere else than his leg and face. Blood. Blood was falling freely from his shaking hands. A few hard hits later, he was covered in it. He was trembling. With a final hit, he let his head join in on breaking the mirror. He saw red. Hot wetness ran down his nose, his cheeks.

Pain. His leg cramped up and with a shout he felt it give up on him, sending him plummeting to the ground. He sat there covered in cuts, in shards, in blood. He screamed. Aesop screamed as loud and long as he could, tears streaming down his face, red from exertion. He screamed even as his throat began to hurt, screamed until he no longer physically could. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there, head hung low, shards of glass all around him, some of the smaller cuts having stopped bleeding. The blood was drying up, becoming crusty. Tears still streamed down his face. He was filthy, his clothes were beyond salvation. His leg hurt like shit, so much he barely felt the glass cuts anymore. His hands were a mess. Two of his fingers were broken, protruding in odd directions. He was still shaking. 

One of his hands picked up a larger piece of what used to be his mirror. He observed the sharp edge of it. How long would it take to die if he was to slit his throat? How long would it take to bleed out like the pathetic animal he was, if he was to sever an artery. He unconsciously lifted the glass.

“Aesop Theodore Sharp, you put down that shard RIGHT NOW! ” He startled so much, he gripped it harder, cutting it into his palm. He winced and his hand released. It took a while before it hit the ground, having got stuck under his skin. Fresh blood started running down his arm.

Dinah Hecat stood before him, the look on her face terrifying. Her work injury years ago left her looking like an old woman despite being younger than him by two years. However, Aesop knew very well that she would have been able to take him on when he was in full health and strength. This was not a woman to be trifled with. “What were you thinking?!” she roared. The former unspeakable, current teacher observed him. He must’ve looked positively pitiful. “We’re going to St Mungos. You’ll be staying there until term ends, even if I’m to personally shackle you to the bed. And I won’t let you out of my sight during the summer. Aesop Sharp, heed my words, you are going to hate me before September comes!”

He didn’t argue. There was no point. He was as weak as a kitten right now and whatever Dinah wanted to do, he wouldn’t be able to stop her. 

He could not speak, when a healer in the magical hospital inquired about his injuries, his sore throat only producing strangle gurgling sounds. He drank so many potions, he felt as if his taste buds were permanently burned away. Wiggenweld, Blood-Replenishing potion, Skele-Gro, Calming draught, Draught of peace and of course Dreamless Sleep. A dose larger than he ever had before. 

When he woke up, he realised just what he’d done. He remembered everything. He sat up in the pristine white hospital bed, his whole body sore, his leg positively pulsing with pain. He put his face into his hands. He wept again. A warm hand touched his shoulder. Watery brown eyes looked up into the kind face of his former ministry colleague. Dinah stroked his shoulder, before moving her hand up to his face, to his hair, petting him softly. 

He cried into her shoulder that day, his hands laying limp in his lap. He heard a clock ticking somewhere to his left. He heard Dinah’s soft shushing sounds. He heard movement on the corridors - nurses, healers, patients, visitors. He heard his own heavy breathing, and he heard the beating of his own heart.

“Listen to me, Aesop,” she spoke later. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but the sun was taking on an orange colour. Her hands were on his shoulder. “I am choosing to believe that yesterday-” her breath caught, but she recovered quickly, “yesterday was a moment of madness. Never again do I want to find you like I did. You have to realise that your life is not your own to take. Once you do, you’re not the one who’ll hurt. Everyone around you, your family, colleagues, your friends, they’ll be the ones to bear that pain. Think of your mother. You would really make her bury her son next to her husband? 

“You would have her suffer all alone until the end of her days? You would have her, and me, and Abraham, and your partner’s wife stand at your funeral? How could you be so selfish?” Her words were harsh, but Aesop felt he needed to hear them. He felt them grounding him. He felt ridiculous and pitiful. He wept on.

“Aesop… you won’t stay in this darkness. I know you won’t, because you won’t be allowed to. You’re one of the strongest people I know and you never knew when to give up. And now, giving up so easily? That’s not you. Get yourself together. I want to see that Aesop I know, that witty, brave, sarcastic, strong man, who’d always find a way to do what he felt was right. Even if it meant breaking a rule or two.” The broken man held his hands together in his lap, rubbing them slowly. Old habits die hard.

“What if-” he started, his voice still hoarse from yesterday. His throat felt numb. “What if I’m not able to… remember that man?” A smaller hand closed around his rugged ones. “Then you’ll have me to remind you. I’ll do everything in my power to help you, and if I’m unable to help, then you can be sure I’ll stand by you, every step of the way.” Aesop could have cried all over again.

“Okay,” he said instead.

–

Dinah did good on her promise, and really checked in on him every day of the summer. She was driving him up the wall, actually. She threw out every bottle of alcohol she found, and regularly made sure he didn’t buy any more. He started eating more, because not doing so resulted in the former unspeakable giving him an earful. He decided fairly quickly that it’s simply less of a hassle to get something into his stomach, than having to endure her wrath every day. He gained back some of the weight he lost, no longer looking so gaunt. 

She forced him to start walking, using his cane for support. It hurt like hell. It made him determined. He was not going to give up. Slytherins don’t just give up. Dinah made him go outside, being so obnoxious he was almost glad to get out of his house. The first breath of fresh morning air made his sore body buzz appreciatively. He didn’t walk far the first day, choosing to just sit in his little garden. The DADA teacher appeared with tea and sat next to him, looking awfully proud of herself. With a flick of his wand, he disposed of the dead plants on his herbology table nearby.

The next day he walked around the little hamlet. He tried not to notice the stares he received from his neighbours. He tried even harder not to notice their pity. He pushed his chin forward, proud and defiant, as he made his way to the merchant nearby. He needed new seeds. 

—

He wasn’t entirely happy to be in the Three Broomsticks, if he was being honest. But, once more Dinah pestered him until he agreed. That is, until he gave her his worst angsty-teenager ‘Fine!’ . He knew people were staring. The curious glances were easier to handle than the winces. A girl appeared at their table, taking their orders. She could have been fifteen, maybe sixteen. She didn’t look at his scar, didn’t look at his cane. She observed him as if he wasn’t a cripple, who’s obviously in pain. She just smiled and took their order. He was grateful for it. “That’s Sirona Ryan, one of my Ravenclaws,” smiled Dinah, “wonderful girl. She really came out of her shell once she embraced who she is.”

—

Having grown tired of spending his compensation money and the little sick leave pay he received every two weeks on buying potions for his pain, he soon started brewing his own. Wiggenweld, for a start, but also various other potions, as well as salves, each of which have had various success in diminishing his pain. He forgot how much he always loved this subject. He started experimenting, too, trying new ingredients, new combinations. The healers in St Mungos may have been convinced there was no cure for his ailment, but Aesop wouldn’t give up. 

When summer ended and Dinah could only visit him during the weekends, he was equally glad and disappointed. He thought he looked forward to being alone again, alone with his thoughts, alone without her constantly pestering him to eat something, to go outside, to shave, to cut his hair, to dress in fresh clothes. He found himself slightly lonely now.  

However, he found a rhythm, a routine. He’d wake up in the morning and go about his day. Aesop would do his morning hygiene. He’d make and eat his breakfast. He’d tend to his plants. He’d have lunch. He’d go for a walk, leaning on his cane. The pain never went away, but it was more bearable now. On most days, that is. He’d be hunched over his potions station long into the evening, brewing and brewing. He’d run his experiments. He’d fall into his bed, but not without taking either Dreamless Sleep or Draught of Peace.

Rinse and repeat. 

He ate, he wore clean clothes, he took care of himself and his home. He visited his mother, who always fretted over him. Then there was Dinah who would also fret over him when she came over. He saw Abraham a few times, the jovial man always full of stories. He let his hair and stubble grow in defiance. He was offered a different job in the Auror office. Auror recruitment programme… the very thought made him shudder. To think he’d be buried under parchment, dealing with children straight out of Hogwarts, who thought they were some heroes who would save the world, only for them to soon realise how horribly they were mistaken… Often brutally. Bloodily.

He didn’t want that. Such a job held no appeal to him whatsoever.

Aesop Sharp retired from the Auror office at 34 years old.

He still received a small amount of monetary support from the ministry every month, and he started selling some of what he brewed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Aesop. In any case, it was enough until he found something better to do, some new job that could fill him with fulfilment. Dinah came around, sometime during April with a smug smile on her face. She found him the perfect job, she claimed.

Four months later, Aesop stood before Hogwarts.

He found it rather funny. He didn’t want to deal with children straight out of Hogwarts who pursued an Auror career, only to deal with them in the school itself. If anything, he could make sure they were well prepared, that they were humble, that they knew everything they needed. That they wouldn’t end up like him.

He also thought about the vast expanse of Hogwarts library, of the Greenhouses, of the ingredient stores. If he was to find a cure somewhere, it would be here.

With every limping step towards the castle, he grew more and more sure that this was the right decision. That this was fate. 

—

The worst time of his life flashed before Aesop’s eyes. He saw your sorrow, your desperation, your pain. He saw you, entirely, and he saw himself, too. It was raw and painful and he hated it. He hated to see someone so strong, so ridiculously brave, so kind and selfless like you feeling this way. Damn ancient magic, damn the keepers, damn Ranrok and damn Eleazar for leaving you like he did.

“Come here,” he said, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. Not knowing why, you obeyed. Your broom hit the floor. You moved slowly, still shaking violently, tears already appearing in your eyes. It was Aesop who took the final two steps to you, and, without further ado, closed his arms around your smaller form, pressing you to him entirely, imprisoning you in his warmth. You’ve grown during the year, but being as tall as he was, he easily tucked your head under his chin. Sobs soon started leaving you. Gut-wrenching and raw like his screams were before. It seemed like a lifetime ago. 

He made it on time, he made it before you did something stupid. Like he did. He wouldn’t let you be like him. He held you tightly, stroked your hair, let you cry on his shoulder. He made soft shushing noises. In the distance he heard bells, it was midnight. You clung onto him, your hands gripping the fabric of his coat so tightly, your fingers went white. He was a solid, steady warmth against you, and you felt safe, protected, and you weren’t alone. When your sobs began subsiding, you felt utterly exhausted, numb, your throat was sore from crying so hard, and your head was starting to ache.

Two large lean hands grabbed your face, gently, yet insistently. The potions master pulled you back, tilted your head and looked into your eyes deeply. His face was so close, his large nose almost touched your own.

“You listen to me, (F/N)(L/N), and you listen well,” he started, his tone soft, yet very serious, “I know your pain. I know the darkness - you won’t stay in it. You won’t be allowed to. I won’t let you, your friends and teachers won’t let you, and you definitely won’t let yourself.” He remembered what Dinah told him, all those years ago, word for word. He never forgot. He never stopped being grateful to her. She pulled him out of that void and now he had to do the same for this young witch.

“You’re stronger than you know. I simply won’t accept you giving up, not after you single-handedly defeated Ranrok, after you saved this school. That’s not you. I want to see that absolutely brilliant girl, who excels in school by day and rescues beasts by night, who’s untamed and unafraid, and who’s always ready to defy anything and anyone, even me, in order to do what’s right. Whatever you need, I’m here. If you cannot bear to be alone, I’m wholly prepared to give you detention every evening until you graduate. I intend to pull you out of that abyss, even if you hate me for it.”

At some point your hands covered his own on your cheeks, and fresh tears rolled from your eyes. Aesop pulled you close again, grounding you, letting you fall apart in his arms and putting you back together with his quiet comfort. “I could never hate you,” you whimpered and clung on tighter, not wanting him to let you go. He wouldn’t. Just like Aesop was not alone, he wouldn’t let you be alone either. You were not alone. He was not alone.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed reading. You can also find this story on AO3. I appreciate your feedback!

[house-of-slayterr]

What’s Your Favourite Scary Movie?

Cw: Slightly NSFW, reader is AFAB

It was your first day at Westburro High. You’d moved part way through the year when your parents divorced. You lived with your dad, as your mother ran away with you karate instructor. All you had was your father and you’re crusty old white dog you called Sniffles.

He always had a runny nose for someone reason, maybe it was allergies. You had prepared for the first day of school, it was never fun being the new kid. But normally you weren’t one to let other opinions get to you. You were going or put your best foot forward, trying to make this work. You didn’t want to make things harder on your father.

He’d be away on business a lot, which meant you’d get the house to yourself quite often. The thought of that was appealing. You wandered around the campus, looking for the front office, when you ran face first into something. More aptly, someone.

“Omg, I’m so sorry!”

You looked up and saw possibly the prettiest boy you’d ever seen. You blinked for a second staring up at him. He’d stopped you from falling by snaking his hand around your waist.

“You can move now you know.” Was all he said.

“Right, yes. Thank you. And sorry… again.”

You cursed yourself for stuttering and making it awkward. He had the most intense eyes, and you could feel them on you as you scurried away. You learned in your next period that his name was Billy. Actually you had quite a few classes with him that day. And his best friend you’d seen hanging off of him the whole day.

As you scanned the lunch room for somewhere to sit, and eager boy in a green shirt waved you over. You made your way over, looking awkward as ever.

“Hey new kid, why don’t you sit with us?” He smirked widely.

“Leave them alone horror boy!” Billy said, rolling his eyes.

You waved him off.

“It’s chill, sorry again for earlier.”

“You know you shouldn’t do that?”

“Do what?”

“That’s the third time you’ve apologised, I’m not angry you know. It was an accident.”

The girl next to him raised a brow.

“They weren’t looking in the hallway and ran into me. Almost fell on their ass.” He added, with a playful smirk.

“Yeah, not my best moment. And I’ll keep that in mind.”

You sat down between Randy and the boy you didn’t quite know yet.

“I’m Tate.” The girl next to him said.

“And I’m Sydney.”

The girl who you’d gathered was dating Billy, introduced herself.

“Y/N.” You offered. “But my dad calls me Squid.”

“Squid?” Mystery boy asked.

You chuckled, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Yeah, there was a time before I discovered waterproof mascara and I cried when we were at the beach. My hole face was covered in black tears. My dad thought it was hilarious.”

The boy laughed, you liked the sound of his laugh.

“Telling embarrassing stories willingly? You’re brave.” Green shirt said. “Oh, by the way, I’m Randy, not Horror Boy.”

“I think I prefer Horror Boy” you joked. “And what about you, Shaggy?” You asked.

The boy looked startled and pointed to himself.

“Yeah you, the rest of the Scooby Gang introduced themselves… or do you want me to guess?”

A mischievous grin broke out on his face.

“Wait, you really want me to guess? Ok, um… Jonathan.”

The girl next to him scrunched her nose and shook her head.

“Definitely not.”

“Think weirder” Randy said.

“Gildroy?”

“Ok not that weird.” Sydney laughed.

“Simba.”

“Like the lion?” He asked.

You nodded sheepishly.

“Keep the S” he said.

“Stevie?”

“Closer…”

“Stu?”

He jumped up from his chair!

“Yes! You got it!” He exclaimed.

The entire lunch room was looking your way and you covered inwardly slightly. Chuckling awkwardly as he sat back down.

“You’re parents named you after a soup?”

He laughed a hearty laugh.

“Look at us, Soup and Squid, what a pair.” He joked.

He threw his arm over your shoulder and you rolled your eyes. You all parted ways after lunch, going off to your last two classes of the day. Not much of note really happened until the principal come on the loud speaker with an announcement.

“A reminder, all students must go directly home after school. All after school activities are postponed until police lift the curfew. There is still a killer on the loose.”

A killer? They didn’t mention that when you moved in. You shrugged your shoulders, it wasn’t like you had anywhere to be yet. You had no friends, no clubs. As you walked out into the courtyard after class, you were startled by someone grabbing your shoulder. You turned ready to punch them but they held up their hands in mock surrender.

“Jesus Randy, I almost broke your face.”

He chuckled.

“Yeah, remind me not to startle you again. I was just gonna ask how your first day was.”

“Really? That’s all?”

“What? I’m a total gentleman.” He mused.

“I bet. And it was fine, except for the part where I learned there’s a crazed killer on the loose. What’s that all about?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard? They call him Ghostface! He wears a super creepy mask and he calls his victims before he kills them. Our friend Casey got gutted, it was brutal.”

“Omg Randy, I’m so sorry.” You placed a hand over your heart, genuinely shocked by the news.

“Eh, what are you going to do right?”

An odd reaction, you thought.

“Would you want me to walk you home? You know, for safety.”

You couldn’t stop the snort that left you mouth. But poor Randy looked so upset.

“Sure Hercules, you can walk me home.”

You twirled around to start walking. He thought you wouldn’t notice his little victorious first pump. You thought it was cute.

“So, what do you usually do for fun around here? You know, when there isn’t a psychotic killer on the loose?”

He shrugged, kicking a rock as you walked.

“I work down at the video store. I like to watch horror movies.”

“Shit! No way! Do you get a discount?”

“Yeah…”

“We’ll then Randy, expect me to come bother you at work. Are they hiring, that actually sounds like a cool gig.”

“You wanna work at the video story?”

“Ummm, yeah. It’s better than bagging groceries, besides I need the money. And I know the best horror movies to watch. My dad and I actually have this huge screen we can set up in the backyard. It’s for 8mm film, but I can rig something up for DVD or VHS. Won’t be too hard.”

“Really? That sounds kinda cool.”

“It totally is. My dads in film, so that’s why we have a bunch of stuff. He’s away on film sets most of the time. So if you want to come over just shoot me a text.”

“I don’t have your number.” He said, confused.

You paused, pulling out a marker from your backpack.

“Give me your arm.”

“What?”

“What are you, chicken? I don’t bite!”

He held out his arm to you. You scribbled your number down and Drew a little smiley face.

“There, now you have my number.” You smiled, pleased with yourself.

He dropped you off at the door.

“So this is your house?”

“I mean yeah, it’s a house… what are you gonna do, scope it out so you can get inside and kill me in my sleep?” You joked.

“Ugh, why does everyone think I’m the killer?” He asked exasperated.

“Woah, Randy chill. I was joking. Did someone actually say that to you? That’s kinda shit.”

“Is that the only adjective you have?”

“Haha, very funny. No but seriously, I don’t think you’re the killer. I mean, no offense, but you’re not really built for it. Besides, you seem like a nice guy.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with not having washboard Abs. Lots of girls like a little squish, it makes you more comfy for cuddling.”

“Yeah? How would you know?”

“I’ll have you know mister, I’ve cuddled with many a girl.”

“Oh. Wait, are you-“

“Eh, I don’t like to label myself. Cute is cute, right? Anyways, you should probably head home, don’t want the cops seeing you out past curfew.”

“Yeah, see you later Newbie.”

You rolled you eyes and waved him goodbye. You got inside and quickly kicked off your shoes and pulled on a comfy sweater. You should be unpacking but you couldn’t be bothered. The first day of school was emotionally draining. So you plopped down on the couch and turned on a movie.

When the phone rang you scrunched your eyebrows. Maybe it was Randy letting you know he got home safe. You picked up the phone.

“We’ll somebodies desperate, what do you want Randy?” You asked.

“I’m not Randy” a deep voice said.

It sounded slightly distorted, almost Robotic.

“Very funny.”

“Funny… do you like comedy?”

“Not particularly a fan, I’m more of a horror/thriller person” you indulged.

“What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice asked.

“Hmmm, I’d have to think about it, depends one what decade we’re talking. What about you Mr. Mystery Man, what’s your favourite scary movie?”

There was an awkward Silence on the other end of the line for a while and just some heavy breathing. You were about to hang up when he answered.

“Slumber Party Massacre.”

“The first or the second?”

“The second on has a cooler killer. The guitar design is wicked.”

“Acceptable, but a little cliche don’t you think. I mean you’re a guy, you can’t deny you’re not also watching for the mass amounts of nudity in the film”

“What can I say. I know what I like.”

You chuckled.

“Alright alright ummm, how about Pumpkinhead?”

“Pumpkinhead?”

“Umm yeah, the creature design is brilliant. He’s played by the same bloke who played the Xenomorphs in the Alien Franchise. It’s all practical effects. You don’t get that effort now a days.” You ranted.

“You seem to know a lot about that movie?”

“I know a lot about a lot of movies. Quiz me.”

“Alright, Hellraiser.”

“The orginal or the whole series?”

“Thé original, obviously.”

“Ok, touchy… don’t get you’re panties in a twist mate. Clive Barker come to life, how could you not like it? The Cénobites are eternal masochists, and the female cénobites aren’t half bad.”

“Oh, but I’m the perverted one.”

“Hey, shut it fuckface, you called me remember? If you’re not Randy, how’d you even get my number hmmm?”

“You gave your number to Randy?” He asked.

Something about his tone sounded almost… jealous.

“You know Randy?” You squinted your eyes suspiciously as you looked out the window.

“Small town, everyone knows everyone.”

“Then I suppose that’s you’re answer to both questions…”

“The Cénobites.”

He dodged the question.

“I préféré Nightbreed actually. Thé books better then the movie.”

“So you’re a reader?”

“What’s is this, 20 questions? Gonna ask me on a date next Mr Killer?”

“So I’ve been upgraded from Mystery Man to Killer?”

“Yeah, Randy says the Killer has a pension for calling people at home. You should really change you MO if you don’t wanna get caught.”

“And what if Randy is the killer and is just throwing you off his scent?”

“Already had this discussion with the man of the hour. He’s not strong enough. I could lift him no problem. Besides, he doesn’t strike me as the type. He may like horror movies but I bet you he thinks American Werewolf in London is actually scary.”

You laughed. A sound the person on the other end of the phone relished in.

“My Bloody Valentine?”

“Huh?”

“Next movie…”

“Not a fan of Randy, somebodies jealous. Even when I’m putting him down you still don’t want to hear it. Interesting…”

You checked a few other windows but still saw no one.

“You won’t find me?”

“So you are watching?”

“No…”

“Mhmm, so if I do this… you’d have no idea what I’m doing?”

You stripped off you’re sweater and began unbuttoning your shirt a little. You heard another bout of silence on the other end of the line. A smirk grew on your face.

“I think Harry Warden is quite handsome.”

“You never see his face.”

Again, he was dodging the question.

“I don’t know, the Gas Mask is kinda hot, don’t you think?”

You turned on some music on the stereo your father had unpacked earlier today. You started swaying your hips mindlessly to the music, putting on a show. You knew it was wrong, but you hadn’t had this much fun in a while. Your heart was racing and you loved it.

“You know, you haven’t answered any of my questions Mr.”

You heard him swallow thickly and you giggled to yourself.

“Maybe I am watching; what’s it to you?” He asked defensively.

“We’ll if you were, I could certainly put on a better show?” You said suggestively.

“You still haven’t told me your absolute favorite.”

“Sleep Away Camp. It’s classic camp setting and the twist was fun. I admire the actors and what they had to go through for that film.”

You danced around to the music more, further unbuttoning you’re shirt, trying to figure out which window he was peeping through.

“So are we going to talk on the phone all night? Where’s the part where you break in and I scream bloody murder?”

“You want me to come in?” He asked.

Something about the way he asked sent shivers down your spine.

“I could prove to you the Sleep Away Camp is better than Slumber Party Massacre.”

“Uh huh, I bet you can?”

“And I bet you’re really hard right now, aren’t you?”

You spoke as seductively as you could down the phone line. You heard more heavy breather for a while before the line went dead. You frowned disappointed. You were having so much fun. Oh, well. You walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, but then you felt eyes on you again.

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.” You muttered.

You turned around to see someone standing in the costume Randy had described. You had to admit, it looked quite nice. You kicked your lips and held the water out to him.

“Thirsty?” You asked.

He shook his head no. You shrugged, taking a sip of water but purposefully letting it drip down your front.

“Oops” you said.

You stepped closer to you, and you playfully stepped back.

“Nuh uh, I’m not going to make it that easy for you. You’ll have to catch me first.”

You dropped the cup and made a break for the stairs. Of course you knew better, you never run up the stairs to escape a killer. But you weren’t trying to escape. You got to your room and hid under the bed. You stopped and listened for footsteps. You saw the boots at the edge of you bed. They walked around to the other side, and suddenly you were being pulled out from under the bed.

You playfully let out a scream. He flipped you on your back and straddled you. You fought against him but he pinned your arms above you head, with only one arm. Yeah, this was certainly not Randy.

“You should know better.” He taunted.

“Did you ever think perhaps I wanted you to catch me?”

Before he could respond, you moved your knee to graze against his bulge. In the moment of hesitation from him, he loosened his grip. You flipped your position so now you were on top of him. You smiled triumphantly back down at him. You wiggled you hips a little to get comfortable.

“Now, let’s see who you really are!”

You bent down and bit the edge of the mask near his neck and slowly peeled it off with your teeth. He let you, frankly with a bit of hesitation. As you looked down at him you were in shock.

“Soup?” You asked.

He chuckled nervously.

“You disappointed?” He asked.

“Oh shut up!” You said.

You pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss. This would be your secret, just the two of you.

An: My version of scream takes place more so in the early 2000s for this one. So there’s no confusion, lol. I wrote this at work because it painfully slow and I’m bored out of my mind. Send help!

[voraciousvore]

The Giant and the Princess (1/10)

Length: 10 parts, ~25k words total

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Author's Note: This story can be read on its own with no context. However, if you are familiar with my other works, this is the tale of Ajax (Chester's father from The Giant) and his past that is hinted at in The Half-Blood Giant when he gives horrible advice to his grandson. The story takes place in a time where the giants and humans lived together in the same world, before the war between them, and Ajax was still a young man, not the crusty old bastard he is in the other stories. 

Word Count for Part 1: 2858

Content Warning: Multiple instances of soft, fatal, unwilling g/t vore, both humans and animals (not too explicit)

------ Part 1 ------

Ajax was hungry, and he smelled blood—not just any blood, but fresh human blood, in a sufficient quantity to be fatal. He was out hunting in the woods, and his interest was piqued, so he followed the scent. The trees in this forest were spaced out widely and gigantic in scale, but not quite as tall as his staggering height of 280 feet, so if he wanted to be subtle he’d have to crouch. He didn’t believe this precaution was necessary, however, if his quarry was already dead. 

His keen senses picked up the sound of hooves galloping towards him, bringing with it that distinctive blood scent. He spied the horse through the cover of the leaves on the trees, heading for his feet. The poor creature was spooked, sprinting blindly and frothing at the mouth. Its coat and tack were stained red from its rider, who was sprawled out at an unnatural angle over the saddle. He appeared to be a royal soldier, with flashy armor and insignias decorating his clothes, but he was clearly deceased. 

Ajax crouched down and snatched up the horse in his hand. The horse bucked and whinnied, but couldn’t escape as the giant stuffed it into his maw, equipment and rider and all. He swallowed the beast of burden whole, sighing with pleasure as he felt the creature thrashing all the way down his throat into his belly. He smelled more prey nearby, so he prowled forward, prepared for more. 

He observed clear signs of a scuffle as he continued on his way: broken tree limbs, chaotic hoof prints in the mud, splashes of crimson, random articles strewn on the ground during a struggle. He came across the corpses of men and horses, slain with arrows and swords and splattered with mud and scarlet. Though Ajax overwhelmingly preferred live prey, since he enjoyed the sensation of his meals squirming in his gut, he wouldn’t refuse fresh meat. He dined on the limp bodies as he passed them, not bothering to strip them of their accoutrements. His stomach was strong enough to tear through such trifles. 

He slowed his pace and ducked below the tree line as he heard shouts up ahead. His mouth watered and his heart rate quickened in anticipation of the hunt. He could distinguish at least six unique human scents, each with a horse. He could scarcely believe his good fortune; he would feast richly today. He crept forward with minimal disruption to the surrounding vegetation, balancing himself on his fingertips and the balls of his feet. 

Soon enough, the unlucky group of humans came into view. Ajax could tell what was going on right away. Four of the men, all on horseback, were a ragtag group of bandits that were harassing the other two travelers. One lone man, a knight, was fighting a losing battle against them. He was heavily wounded and exhausted as he savagely fought off their blows. The last human was a woman, a petite female, whom the knight was struggling to protect. Her horse was inches from death, bleeding profusely from a wide gash in its neck, and in no condition to carry her to safety. She was lavishly dressed and clearly a high-ranking individual. 

The giant saw his opportunity to strike and charged in. With a single sweep of his hand he captured two of the bandits, along with their horses, and shoved them in his mouth. The other two, startled by the intrusion, charged off in different directions. The knight stood his ground to protect the lady, who cowered on her dying horse, but he was obviously terrified. Ajax leapt forward, shaking the earth as he slammed his hand down to block one of the horsemen from escaping. The horse reared up with a frantic neigh and raced in the opposite direction. Ajax corralled the other bandit in a similar fashion, then grabbed them both and gobbled them up with delight. 

While the giant was eating the other men, the knight hastened to transfer the lady to his own horse, so they could run away. However, the horse was spooked by the colossal giant stomping around and slaughtering the others. The knight, under normal circumstances, could maintain control of his horse, but in his weakness his hands slid off the reins. The horse bucked off both humans and fled into the forest. 

The knight was fading fast from his wounds as he fell to the ground. The woman refused to abandon him and tried to drag him away, but a full-grown man with heavy plate armor was too much for her to handle. She knew she couldn’t outrun a giant with such an impossible burden. She collapsed next to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. Their time had come; they were going to die. 

Ajax swallowed his final victim and massaged his twitching belly with a burp. After eating so many writhing men and horses, he was stuffed. His gut was bloated almost to the point of discomfort as it protruded over his belt. He looked down to his feet, at his remaining prey, debating whether he could cram two more people and a dying horse into his limited gut space. He kneeled down to examine them closer. He was surprised the woman didn’t run, despite her lack of injuries. She was crying over the other human, who was barely moving by now. The giant reached down and plucked her up by the back of her dress between his fingers. The tiny lady squealed with fright. 

“No!” she blubbered. “Don’t eat us! You have no right! Don’t hurt him…” She sobbed, looking at Ajax with pleading, watery eyes that contradicted her sharp protests. 

Normally, when humans begged for their lives, Ajax would just ignore their supplications and eat them anyways. He didn’t hate humans, or have anything against them, but he saw them as food more than as people. He knew some of his fellow giants were crueler, and enjoyed tormenting and toying with more intelligent prey that could plead for mercy, but that wasn’t in his nature. All he wanted was a full belly, and right now his hunger was already sated. Eating another morsel would only cause discomfort from an overly stretched stomach. 

He debated what to do with her. He could take her with him, and save her as a snack for later, but he was sure the other giants back home would want to eat her instead. He wouldn’t be able to hide a human with such an enticing aroma, and he didn’t want to get into a fight over food. At the same time, though, it seemed like such a waste to just leave her here. The knight would die from his wounds, and she didn’t appear to have the survival instincts to make it on her own, without being picked off by a wild beast. 

Ajax sighed as he looked at her. Humans were difficult to catch, and it would truly be a shame for such a delicacy to be lost to a dumb animal. Besides, as he gazed down at her squirming helplessly in his fingers, he couldn’t help but notice her finery, and her beauty. Even among humans, she was no ordinary specimen. She was disheveled due to the scuffle, but he could make out fair features with almond eyes and flowing flaxen hair. Despite his apathy, he felt the smallest drop of sympathy creep through. It must be a difficult life, to be so pathetic and helpless, with no way to protect oneself from hardship. 

Maybe he was just in a generous mood because his day had been fruitful, and his stomach was nice and full, but he decided to help her. Why not? He carefully tucked his fingers under the knight and scooped him into his hand, trying his best not to antagonize his injuries. The man’s forehead was drenched in sweat, and he winced with a soft groan, but he was too delirious from blood loss to protest. 

“Don’t you dare touch him! Let him go!” the woman shouted, attacking his fingers with all her strength. Ajax smirked. He had to appreciate her spunk in the face of such unattainable odds. 

“Relax, human. I’m not going to harm him,” he assured her. “Nor you.” 

She stopped her wriggling, obviously stunned by this new development. “R-really?” she stammered incredulously. 

“Nah. I’m not hungry anymore,” he explained. She looked up at him with wide eyes, hardly daring to believe her good fortune. “Where should I take you? Obviously he’s in no condition to walk…”  

She blinked, still in shock, then pointed in the general direction. Ajax knew there was a walled human city nearby, complete with a castle and a moat. The humans cast protective spells around their cities so giants couldn’t stomp over and destroy them. Not that Ajax would want to anyway: He was content to pick off the occasional straggler that wandered too deep into the giant woods. His stomach gurgled noisily as he digested his meal, causing the human woman in his hand to shudder. 

She stayed silent, but he could feel her trembling with fear. And no wonder: She had just watched him heartlessly devour a whole buffet of men. Ajax felt strange, carrying humans in such a gentle manner. He was used to eating them and breaking them in his hands, not… whatever this was. Somehow, though he didn’t want to admit it to himself, the experience was nice. He liked not having the tiny beings screaming and cowering in terror at his very existence. 

He tried not to jostle his hands too much while walking, but the terrain was rough and uneven in patches. A small jolt caused the woman to topple forward in his palm and grip his pinky out of reflex. Her weight was inconsequential in his gargantuan hand, her touch light as a feather. An odd emotion surfaced in his heart, one of mild warmth. He stopped to allow her to regain her balance before continuing. She shivered as she sat in the center of his palm. 

Finally, after he strolled along for a few minutes, the city appeared on the horizon. Even from this distance, Ajax could tell how puny the castle was compared to his great height: The tallest tower probably wouldn’t even reach his waist. The knight had lost consciousness, but Ajax figured he would survive as long as he received medical care in a timely manner. 

“Th-thank you…” the lady’s miniature voice squeaked from his hand. “Thank you so much…” Ajax glanced down at her. She sat in his palm with her back facing him, but by the shakiness of her voice, the giant suspected she was crying again. 

“No problem. I guess,” Ajax grunted in return. For some reason, he felt an urge to pat her on the head with the tip of his finger, but he refrained. She was scared enough as it was; he didn’t want to send her into a panic. It was a miracle she was as docile as she was—most likely out of desperation, not trust. 

She turned her head and stole a peek up at his fearsome, yet noble, mien. His dark brown hair was long and untamed, with a thick beard and eyes of a similar shade to match. His features were sharp and defined, with a big nose and a wide mouth with thin lips. She’d never seen a giant firsthand, since she spent most of her time ensconced in the castle walls. Watching him eat all those men was terrifying, yet she was relieved to be spared, and grateful he had rescued her from the bandits whom she had no doubts were trying to kidnap her. He saved her, when it would’ve been very easy to scarf her down like nothing more than a scrap of meat. She was surprised by the compassion he displayed, helping her and her last surviving guard rather than leaving them both to die. She always just assumed that giants were nothing more than revolting man-eating monsters, based on the stories she’d heard. Perhaps not. 

Ajax’s approach was far from subtle as he clomped towards the city with his prodigious bulk. The castle guards saw his massive figure from afar and rushed out in case they needed to defend the city. Their valor was commendable, yet they stayed within the confines of the magical barrier where the giant would be unable to tread. The only visual sign of the barrier was an occasional flicker in the air, like a ripple in a clear pond. 

The giant stopped outside the barrier, looking down with hesitation at the tiny armed men. He couldn’t reach them, but the barrier didn’t stop the soldiers from lobbing projectiles outward at him. Unless they used heavy artillery, the flimsy arrows and spears of individual men typically weren’t enough to be dangerous, but they could still hurt and draw blood. He slowly bent his knees and lowered himself to the grass. The diminutive guards stiffened, prepared for trouble. Ajax gently touched his hand to the ground so the little lady in his hand could dismount. He set the injured knight down on a soft patch of grass next to her. 

The soldiers gasped as she gracefully climbed down from his colossal fingers. “Princess Iris!” several voices called out. The soldiers, virtually in unison, dropped to their knees in respectful bows. Ajax raised an eyebrow. He could tell by her dress and entourage she was somebody of high status, but he didn’t expect her to be royalty. 

“Get up, you dullards!” the princess shouted, exasperated. “Help him! He’s dying!” She gestured to the knight, whose body was just outside the barrier. The soldiers froze up; none of them dared forsake the protective magic and expose themselves to a grisly death. The princess, more concerned about the man’s life than her dignity, huffed as she struggled to drag the body herself with her slim little arms. Ajax helped by nudging him along with his finger, until he was stung by the barrier and had to pull away. 

As soon as the knight crossed the barrier, the guards rushed to follow the princess’s orders and aid him. A few guards left to alert the king and fetch a horse for the princess so she wouldn’t have to walk like a peasant. Princess Iris regained her regal comportment and watched them scramble to obey. Once she confirmed everything was in order, she turned and looked up at the giant, without a shred of nervousness or fear.  

Her mouth didn’t move, but her expressive eyes spoke volumes. She had a vivacious fire that surprised Ajax, even enchanted him. Despite how rough and ragged her dress and hair were after her struggle, her stately aura shined through. It wasn’t just her expensive clothes that distinguished her from the commoners; it was her imperial demeanor and character that resonated with authority. She was no ordinary human woman; Ajax was transfixed.  

Her spell gripped him even after she left on a horse adorned with the finest livery. He stayed in place, observing her until she disappeared into the walls of the small city, oblivious to the anxious stares of the soldiers at his feet. Ajax raised himself to a standing position and dusted off his knees. He retreated back into the woods, glancing over his shoulder until the city vanished from view. 

He returned the same way that he came, deep in thought. He passed by the dead horse with the slashed throat and the smears of blood in the grass and on the bark of the trees. A familiar scent caught his attention. He turned on his heel, sampling the air through his nose to pinpoint the source. He squatted on his haunches, peering through the leaves. Laying hidden in a disheveled patch of shrubbery was a bright glint that was saturated with the princess’s natural fragrance. Ajax collected the microscopic object carefully between his fingertips and held it close to his face, squinting.  

It was a miniscule crown, fitted for her tiny little head. The crown was encrusted with expensive jewels and plated with shining gold. Ajax rolled it between his fingers, fascinated. He stared at the gleaming object for a while before stashing it in his pocket and continuing on his way. The sun was setting, so he decided to return home for the night and prepare for bed. 

Later that night, when he laid down to rest, he couldn’t sleep. He fetched the crown to admire it again, playing with it in his fingers. He couldn’t get the tiny woman out of his mind. He recalled the distinct feeling of her small form resting in his palm, and the striking way she looked at him before she left to enter the city. He felt a little sad when he realized he’d probably never see her again. They inhabited vastly different worlds, after all. With a melancholic sigh, he placed the tiny crown on his chest and intertwined his hands over his belly. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless slumber. 

Part 2

Writing Masterpost

[mousymaven]

SWEET {CHAPTER ONE}

Ellie x reader(NOTES: modern au, fem presenting au, She/her pronouns used, parties, crushes, spying, and slight mention of hypoglycemia(ever so slightly)- yes i'm projecting- this is gonna be some slow burn shit babes, cat, breakups, sorta fast-paced but it’s the first chapter so cut me some slack babes 💀🪻)

this is my first ever fic on this tag so please be nice 😭💗

(first day of school)

The 12th grade was a shitty year to move schools. Three years of building friend ships, learning class routes, and most importantly getting teachers to like you all destroyed with the simple words “you’re mom got a promotion y/n! We’re moving to Wyoming!”

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The first time y/n saw her, Ellie was peacefully unaware of the fact that she was being spied on at all. It was a Sunday and she was killing time in the school computer lab after her band practice. No one else was supposed to be there, y/n had just moved into town with her parents, and the snobby principal was giving them an “all-out tour of their perfect establishment”

It was near the end of summer break, and the kind of humid that makes you feel sticky and uncomfortable. Ellie was wearing a tank top that could easily be mistaken for a sports bar, black skinny jeans, and her crusty dusty black Converse that she had refused to get rid of despite the hole on the inside of the shoe, and constant harassment from Dina about how embarrassing it was to walk next to her wearing “world war ll shoes”.

Y/n hadn't meant to spy on her at all in fairness. She’d gotten bored of the forced “Ooooo and ahhhs” of her parents and wandered around. By the time it had hit her how long she had been standing there, y/n had looked like a complete stalker. Her nose just barely brushed the door, manicured hand gripping the door frame as if it was super glued.

She finally snapped out of it when the brown-haired girl turned slightly in her swivel chair,  briefly facing the entrance. Y/n booked it away from the door, back pressed against the lockers at the other end of the hall leaving her slightly winded, a metallic taste in her mouth as she tried to calm her heavy breathing. After about 5 minutes of silence from all around and the occasional sound of ticking from the multiple classroom clocks, y/n sped back around in an effort to look for her parents. She hadn’t meant to react so hastily, but if she was seen by the stranger that would be one conversation she’d regret having to awkwardly explain.

“Ah, there she is! Y/n y/l/n! I see you’ve taken you’re own tour!” The principal laughed to himself slightly, amused by his own idea of humor “That wraps it up for today! We’ve emailed you your classes and a full map of the school. Make sure to be here first thing Monday morning at 8:30 just in case we need to be going over a few more things”

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It was the first day of school, and y/n was secretly hoping to see the random girl she’d accidentally spied on again.

The brown-haired girl, with really pretty freckles and a nice aura. She wanted to be friends with her. Y/n was good at making friends too, usually, if you didn’t count that one time in the 10th grade when a girl physically sped-walked away from Y/n’s enthusiastic approach to speak with her.

“Phone? Check, backpack? Check, lunch? Check..” y/n trailed off mumbling to herself in hopes that she hadn’t forgotten anything as she made her way downstairs.

“Breakfast? Nope don’t see a check there” Y/n’s father smiled while pushing a small plate with strawberries, toast, and a few slices of apple on it. “Dad I’m fine I’ll eat at lunch we’ve been over this before” the time read 8:15 “I’ve got like 15 minutes to get to school, I don’t have time today- but I appreciate it ” y/n’s father grimaced, the girl almost never ate breakfast, but still complained about the headaches, occasionally vomiting, and weakness when she’d come home after a long day. “ at least take a banana or muffin will you? Just for on the way?” He tried to bargain with her for his own peace of mind, and it worked. “ will it make you happy?” Y/n questioned and he smiled “fine”

Y/n stuffed a muffin in her bag and shouted a “Bye! Love you” before stepping out.

…

Lunch break was the only time of day that Ellie had usually enjoyed besides her journal rants that could span from 12am to 3am occasionally. Not much else really did it for her. The promise of hanging out with friends while occasionally stuffing food in her face was promising.

“Have you heard about the new girl yet?” Dina asked, shoving her backpack into jesses arms as per usual, not that he wanted to but to be higher up on Dina’s  “good boyfriend scale” he endured carrying her heavy ass bag every break for the past 2 years. “ we have a new student?” Ellie mumbled, eyes locked on her phone. “ do you live under a rock or something? It’s all that everyone’s been talking about! We live in the middle of butt fuck nowhere we don’t exactly get a new student everyday els” Dina cursed how out of the loop Ellie was. Despite being somewhat socially relevant, and being in band as well as a few other clubs Ellie was almost always never paying attention to things she deemed ‘boring people matters.’

“I sit behind her in French, she seems pretty neat to be honest- really cool backpack actually, it has a bunch of pins and shit on it” Jesse finally piped up as they sat down outside under one of the many trees outside. “ what neater than me?” Dina joked, raising her eyebrow at him.

Jesse playful pushed her and they started their usual lunchtime banter while Ellie drifted off from the conversation slightly. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in conversing today but rather that she’d stayed up till 4 in the morning arguing with Cat on Snapchat again. They’d gotten into a really messy breakup back in May- given that it was now September Ellie thought that Cat would be over her usual bullshit of posting photos with other girls and tagging Ellie just to try and spark something outta her. It never did affect Ellie at all, not emotionally at least- however being tagged a shit load of times by someone who was clearly trying to egg her got old after a while. Her calm text of “Can you please cut it out” ended up spurring an argument which resulted in a final block from Ellie, something she’d wish she had done sooner but couldn’t due to how close they used to be.

As Ellie's mind drifted back to the present, she realized that her friends had stopped talking and were now staring at her expectantly. "Sorry, what were you guys saying?" she asked, trying to shake off the remnants of her late-night argument. Her friends exchanged a knowing look before continuing their conversation. “ we’re going to a party tonight- you in?” Jesse asked, wrapping an arm around Dina “Uh maybe who’s, house?” “Owen’s- it’s some shitting first-day thing- but there’s gonna be alcohol and weed so ya know”

Ellie knew Joel wouldn’t exactly be exactly enthusiastic about Ellie attending a party on a school night, but it had been months since she’d gone to one and the thought of letting loose was enticing. “I’ll think about it ” “WOO THE THREE MUSKETEERS BACK AT IT” Dina yelled excitedly. Since the breakup with Cat Ellie hadn’t budged on her willingness to join Jesse or Dina to any group events, especially parties. “If you don’t stop with those goofy ass nicknames I’m gonna beat your ass someday and I said MAYBE” Ellie joked, getting Dina’s foot shoved at her side, Jesse watching as they pushed each other around on the grass. After a few minutes, they eventually calmed down and Ellie piped up “Okay fine I’ll come- but you better bring your stash just in case Owen has those shitty ass white boy rolls” pointing a finger at Jesse.

For Ellie usually everything after lunch was a bit of a blur. This semester however she had genuinely enjoyed the classes she’d gotten[math, science, English, and lastly advanced art history ] it was nice but made her day seem more dreadful and lengthy. Each class was roughly an hour and a half give or take, however now that Ellie knew that she was going to be attending a party and getting high it seemed like her classes spanned 5.

1:50 shined brightly on her deformed iPhone, the realization hitting that she was already 10 minutes late.                                                                                       “Well look who decided to grace us with her presence, Williams take a seat beside y/l/n” Miss.Blight announced loudly, the whole class's attention looking towards Ellie. “Fuck me” she mumbled under her breath, walking to her seat, barely taking notice of the person sitting beside her. “Excuse you?” “Nothing” she huffed out. Ellie knew she got lucky when she ended up getting English again. One of her favorite subjects, however, she’d only truly enjoyed it previously due to the teacher being one of those ditzy teachers who paid more attention to texting their boyfriend than being a real teacher. This gave Ellie a lot of room for creative freedom while writing, not to mention the fact that she was sure the teacher would most likely give her an A no matter what she wrote.

It really wasn’t until Ellie had actually gathered her barring and gotten out her Chromebook that she’d noticed the girl beside her wearing something that if she wasn’t new would easily get her sent home for “being too comfortable showing any kind of skin no matter the body type or size”. Ellie couldn't help but admire the girl’s confidence to wear her outfit without seeming to care. Ellie also noticed how pretty she was, Jesse had said she was neat but never mentioned anything about the new girl being hot. She knew she shouldn’t try to start anything given her past attempts at talking to girls failing terribly, it felt like a part of her had lost the spark since cat, instead, she decided to focus on her own work. Listening to the teacher regurgitate the same bullshit about nouns she’d heard in the first grade.

“Hi, um sorry I’m y/n.. not to bug you but I can’t seem to think of another word for ‘lovely’ and Google wasn’t much help- do you know any words perhaps similar...IT'S COOL IF YOU DON'T AND I APPRECIATE THE-” y/n trailed off slightly. Y/n could definitely think of multiple words that could replace ‘Lovely’ but knew that this was the most casual window of opportunity to talk to the brunette without coming off as “too much” some would say. “Sweet? And I’m guessing you’ve gathered I’m Ellie” She cut the other girl off slightly, trying her best not to sound awkward. “Gosh, why didn’t I think of that, thank you! I really like your necklace by the way”

"Thank you, I appreciate it," Ellie replied with the best smile she could muster. "It was a gift from an old friend, she gave it to me on my birthday a few years ago." Y/n smiled back, feeling a little more confident about their conversation. "That's really sweet," she said, using the word Ellie had suggested earlier. "I wish I had something so cool." "Yeah, she was pretty amazing," Ellie agreed. "Anyway, how’s your first day been so far- besides this grumpy hag” Y/n laughed a bit, she’d also noticed how shitty the English teacher seemed to be from her constant low muttering about how much she hated high school kids and teaching. “It’s been okay I guess, I mean I haven’t really talked to very many people. There’s this one guy in my history class that asked how I was doing but that’s about all. The school is pretty nice though”

The brunette nodded “Yeah a lot of people here just sorta stick to themselves or their friends, but the school itself is okay I guess” Ellie didn’t know what took her over but she felt somewhat obligated to ask her next question. “Ya know there’s this like super lame guy, Owen. He’s throwing some party tonight for back to school- ya think I’ll see you there?”

Y/n choked, she’d never been to a party- and definitely never asked by someone of Ellie’s nature. “Uh I don’t know I’ve never really been to one and” “Oh no problem you can always hang with me and my friends- not to mention I’m sure there’s gonna be a lot of people so I’m sure you won’t really have to worry too much about anyone caring ”Ellie spoke abruptly, sounding rushed. “Okay then yeah I’ll see you there…here’s my number just text me the address” y/n mumbled, pulling Ellie’s Chromebook closer towards herself so she could type her phone number onto the Google doc.

Then the bell rang.

E.W: YOU DIDNR SAY SHE WAS HOT? AND SMWLLED NICE WTF?

J: huh?

D: me when miss.felps💀

E.W: THW BEW GIRL RHE NEW MF SHES OML BRO

J: perhaps try speaking English jackass <3

D: nobody appreciates my jokes anymore :(

E.W: bro the new girl- she’s cool- like seemed cool- she sits beside me in fuckin English bro

J:  I’m guessing you invited her to Owens party then lmfao

D: SIMP BEHAVIOUR

E.W: maybe- and both of you have no god damn room to talk abt simp behaviour 😐

E.W:

As the day went on, Ellie felt a growing sense of excitement mixed with nerves. She hadn't been to a party in months, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to let go of her hermit lifestyle just yet, but as she and her friends piled into Jesse's rusty car, and headed to the party, she laid back, finally letting the feeling of excitement hit her. “what is with you fuckers and having the most old and disturbing shit” Dina spoke loudly, already tipsy from a bottle of wine that Jesse had stolen from his parent's liquor cabinet. She was referring to Jesse’s car and Ellie’s shoes, both of which had looked like they’d been through hell and back. “The car is not ‘old’ it’s vintage” Jesse argued, the car was passed down to him and despite his work on it the car didn’t look much better. “ can both of you shut up- and get off my ass about the shoes all the bitches love ‘em,” Ellie said with a smirk, knowing damn well that she needed to throw them out someday.                        

As they arrived at the party, Ellie's nerves started to get the best of her again. She hadn't been around so many people in a long time, and she wasn't sure how to act, but as she stepped out of the car and saw the bright lights as well as the deafening thumping music, she felt a surge of excitement return. “Woooo let’s go bitches” Dina jumped out of the car and ran for the front door, Jesse huffing behind her. “Idiots” Ellie mumbled to herself.

“Uh hey..”

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This part is so fast-paced and I wanna kms oml- I know it’s bad but I swear the other parts will be better but I really needed to get the fuckin ball rolling for the next few chapters babes 😭 someone lemme know if I should make a tag list- low key hate this but I’m so proud of myself for finally finishing and writing something so Wooo Wooo🧁

Everyone stay safe, be kind, and have a lovely day!! ((ε(*´･ω･)っ†*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ･*:..☆

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

18 for the spotify wrapped game, please and thank you!

#18 - "Black No. 1" by Type O Negative

For the Spotify Wrapped Snippet Game

This is definitely an Ollie song/band (though, actually, she doesn't dye her hair fyi). I don't have her "voice" figured out yet, so this also made for a fun way to give it a try. Thanks for sending the prompt in!

Dysthanasia Taglist: @thecyrulik @theimperiumchronicles @k--havok (Sorry, I forget to do this so often that a couple of you might have no idea what's going on in this ^^;)

Words: 1,008

Content Advisory: Swearing, (mostly) joking references to violence

“Ollie?”

She was pretty sure she’d never heard Mergus shout before, actually. It was impressive he could make himself heard over the aneurysm-inducing volume of her stereo at all.

“Ollie!”

She kept ripping the stupid sticky notes from her bedroom wall, wadding them up and hurling them to the carpet, but with only a fraction of her attention.

“Oleander Blume.”

Oh, well, golly gee. Guess she was really in for it now. Smirking, she turned and spotted Mergus standing in front of the stereo set-up, hands shielding his ears. He’d lived through the Black Death, Industrial Revolution, and the Break, but couldn’t find the pause icon on a control panel. She strolled over and slid the volume bar down until only the tinny ringing of temporarily damaged hearing remained. With a sigh, Mergus lowered his hands.

“How on Earth could playing racket at that level be enjoyable?”

“Oh, what, you never cranked your hurdy-gurdy as hard as you could just to forget about the world for a while, old man?”

For that, he looked up at her with his Fledglings These Days Face. Though she rolled her eyes, Ollie pulled the hood of her sweatshirt back and swiped stray wisps of blonde hair away from her cheeks.

“Fine. I’m listening, okay?”

Rather than come right out with what he wanted, Mergus went and perched on the end of her bed. A vision of order and dignity in his flawlessly pressed suit against the backdrop of her tangled pentagram-pattern bedspread and a pile of black and red laundry she still hadn’t hauled to the washer. He plucked a pair of ripped jeans and a fishnet shirt out of the way so he could pat the spot next to him. Damn, it was going to be that kind of night then. Ollie dragged her combat boots as she walked, but parked her ass where told to all the same.

“Whatever it is, just say it. That fucking ghost got into my room again, so I’m not in the mood for a long fireside chat.”

His gaze flickered over to the remaining collage of sticky notes that had spelled her name out in spiky, three-foot high letters. “I thought one of Hawthorne’s aides warded your suite recently.”

“Well, that crusty ass zombie obviously didn’t send one of his best or brightest because the stupid haint made a mess.” Added to it. Whatever.

“Ceph only acts out for attention. They’d leave you be if you acknowledge them once in a while.”

“They’d be out of my hair permanently if I torched their room too.”

He didn’t dignify that with more than a raised eyebrow. He didn’t have to. Not when the memory of Wes Mayer attempting to do the same thing was still a household punchline. Of course, the ass-dragging mutt didn’t have enough brains or subtlety to fill a thimble either. Ollie, on the other hand, made a living on sneaky strategy.

“I stopped by,” Mergus said, “because I have an assignment out on the coast for you.”

“With who?” She already saw it coming, of course. The second he mentioned where they’d be going she knew.

Ollie still let out an agonized groan and flopped back on the bed, arms straight out to the sides as if she’d been crucified, when Mergus answered, “Renato.”

“Why don’t you just send a fluffy little dog along with me instead? Would be about as useful.”

The fine lines gathered in the corners of his eyes and lips deepened with the onset of his I’m Really Quite Serious Face. “I’ve considered the requirements carefully. This is the best way to meet all of them.”

“The best way to finally drive me bugfuck, you mean.” Sweet Satan on a stick. She could already imagine it. Having to watch him preen in the visor mirror every thirty seconds. Controlling her gag reflex while he flirted with every stranger from there to the Pacific. Listening to him bring up that goldfish for the billionth time. She’d beat his perfectly-shaped skull in with a tire iron before they got halfway to their destination.

“I already took into account your history together,” Mergus said. If bloodborn could develop gray hairs, his neat curls and close-cropped beard would’ve had new streaks. “You’ll be taking separate cars, staying in separate accommodations for the most part—but you will work together if it comes down to a fight. Is that understood?”

Ollie lifted her head enough to meet his stern gaze, her eyebrows and curiosity raised. “Who are we fighting?”

“If all goes well, drastic action won’t be necessary.”

“Is it Grandpa Ghoul or Muttley Mayer? Or both?”

He surrendered with a sigh. “Hawthorne and I have…not yet come to an agreement on how to best handle the matter.”

She grinned. “So, keep our heads on a swivel and chainsaw any ouroboroi that get in the way in half.”

Fledglings These Days Face made another cameo. “I’ll stress again that violence is a last resort. And you are not packing a chainsaw.”

“Fine.” She stuck her tongue out.“Spoilsport.”

“Can I rely on you to be civil in a meeting with Renato when I give you both your instructions then? Say, nine o’clock, my office?”

Propping herself on her elbows, Ollie made a show of considering it. “I’ll try to keep the biting and stabbing to a minimum. Sure.”

The smile that made his eyes glitter was worth any future headache. Mergus patted her knee and stood, smoothing his jacket and tie into place. “It means a lot, coming from you, my girl.”

Once alone again, Ollie glanced over at the small hill of laundry. With only a slight scowl, she got up and started stuffing it into a bag to take to the wash room. She was going to need clean clothes to pack soon. Good thing ninety-nine percent of her wardrobe consisted of black. When she made a mess with that chainsaw she planned to buy on the trip, the stains would never show.

[chilelemonz]

The New Moon Ball

MASC AFAB NB! OC reader X Vampire OC

A/N: hey guys! thank you so much for reading this is the first sort of long peice i've written so that's why i included the word count. i kinda wanna turn this into a series so let me know!

Summary: Apollo Van Helsing , an active and blood member of the Helsing Historians attends the New Moon Ball in place of their father, to observe and report when they awkwardly bump into Atlas Gomez, a prominent political figure in Vampiric Society.

Warnings: use or “mr” for reader but I believe that is it please let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 1,454

~Enjoy~

He said it would be a fun lil game, he said it would spice up the bedroom. Now I’m running through the woods barefoot, lungs threatening to give out every few feet. 

I met Atlas about a year ago at a New Moon Ball ,it’s traditional to have someone a part of the human faction at a cryptid event. It showed peace and respect between the two kinds.  So I went in place of my father, Charles Van Helsing. We don’t hunt monsters anymore and we haven’t for centuries, the mortal and immortals came to a truce very long ago. The Van Helsing name stoped being hunters and became historians protecting the same creatures they used to kill. That was my job, cataloging and observing the inner workings of vampiric society.  Walking around the ballroom taking notes, that's when I saw him, a midnight black three peice suit, broad shoulders, shoulder length brown hair. Atlas Gomez, his presence indisputable as a well known figure in addition to being next in line for his clan, standing with an empty red stained glass in hand schmoozing other leaders,making small talk. It’s always been so intriguing to watch vampires in their natural habitat and guards down. They seem so human and then they open their mouth laughing exposing themselves as the predators they truly are while being so damn charming. 

“It’s rude to stare” A deep voice breaks me from thought. It was him. Atlas flashing his fangs through a smirk, starring darkly. The surrounding vampires now also looking my way,creating a bit of a scene.

“I apologize sir, I’m just observing” bringing attention to the pin on my blazer showing my organiztion and occupation. Occasionally they will have humans dressed in beautiful gowns and suits walk around compelled to be the waiter and the horderve. The pin became part of the uniform after an incident

“Ah, Van Helsing Analyst '' he taunts now slowly walking up to me

“Tell me young one what have you analyzed this evening” he stands a few inches from my face,emerald eyes in full effect.

“Oh well I don’t really analyze I just observe and report all events back to headquarters, to make sure it’s in within the guidelines of the-” cutting me off abruptly

“Of the truce yes, yes, that crusty old piece of paper” casually brushing off the mention of international law “If you don’t mind me asking are Van Helsing by blood or association?”

  When the Van Helsing name became Van Helsing Historians LLC it became less of family business ofcourse family members still held higher ranks and didn’t always have time to do a report and go to event so it often fell on lower level analysts. Though there are rumors and whispers, older Van Helsings don’t agree with our new beliefs and refuse to come to events,threatning to bring back old ways. Other rumors say we're now scared of the same things we used to hunt. I wasn’t scared of them,but maybe I should’ve been.

“By blood” I state proudly not letting his closeness intimitate or stutter my words.

“A purebred gracing us with their presence” reaching down to kiss my hand “ And your name?” his lips ice cold on the back of my hand.

“Apollo” a little take back by such a formal greeting “Apollo Van Helsing”

“Mr. Van Helsing would you treat me to a dance?” the vampire asks his voice almost melodic, looking back it could have been the music or compulsion but if I was honest I would’ve still said…

“O-okay” a smirk and his fangs appearing again achieving his goal of flustering me.

I stuck my note pad in my back pocket and let a monster lead me to the dance floor. Faces and bodies inches apart, his cheek beside mine.

“I’ll lead” he whispers , the sound causing my heart rate to increase which I’m sure could hear as he wouldn’t stop smiling at me. He holds one of my hands with his own to our side and the other he leads to his shoulder. Then placing his hand on the small of my back under my jacket, making me shiver.

“Sorry, cold” he chuckles in my ear. I laugh a little bit too, I’d never though I’d hear a vampire say sorry.

“It’s okay my bad dancing wil cancel that out” 

I looked up, our height difference became very clear now.  He was a foot taller than me, fangs towering over my head. He leads slowly 1..2..3..1..2..3, then slowly quickening pace to more of salsa as the music sped up. It suddenly became clear we were making an even bigger scene before, glowing red, gold, and black eyes in dark corners of the ballroom watching us.

“Everyone’s staring” I whispered as he dipped me drawing even more attention to us.

“You’re handsome, I’m handsome. I thought analyst were supposed to be smart” he snarked in my ear while having a hand under my thigh. The tension building up to that remark and this moment. Lifting me back up once again faces inches apart as the song comes to close.

"Again,not an analyst" I snarcked back to the predator

The room erupts in applause , oh god everyone was watching us.

“And you said you were a bad dancer” he bows to the room and then shows me off before taking my hand and leading me off the floor, still dazed and a bit overwhelmed from the whole situation. I did lie, Van Helsing's held high social status for long time so things like ballroom dancing, fencing , and calligraphy were still implored on the new generation.

“Would you do me the honor of another?” he asked a smile on his face like a kid in the candy store and I was the candy, with a vampire though that comparison isn’t so sweet.

“Oh no I should really get going I have to take this back to catalog before closing”  knowing I could get into the catalogs whenever I pleased.

“Well please let me right down my number so you could observe me if you like or perhaps a one on one interview if your committee will allow it?”

This obviously his way of flirting but a one on one interview would be historic, alot of vampires refuse to speak to Van Helsings because… well to put it bluntly the killing of their kind to a point of almost extinction. Not to say we didn’t lose people we did but that was centuries ago but some of these shades have been alive that whole time so someone telling them to get over it all the time probably doesn’t help.

“Well I-” I didn’t realize til this moment his hand still on the small of my back now sliding down lightly grazing my ass to take the notepad out of my back pocket and flipping to an empty page. He than takes a pen out of his lapel pocket

“Oh smooth how many guys do you pull this on” Atlas having a pen on hand,of course there could’ve been many reasons but he wasn’t going to be the only person doing the teasing that night.

“ I am a large politcal figure for my species. I may have to sign document or treaties or give my number to a cute guy at the government ball”  he looks up from writing his number to see my reaction.

“I thought this was business” wanting to draw a line not for him but myself. I have been more involved with a vampire this evening than Van Helsings have in years, I had to get out of there.

“It can be what ever you want to be my dear Apollo” handing back my tablet and kissing my hand lips slightly warmer than before “I wait for the day to be called upon by you” God he had to know how good he sounded or what he was doing.

“I-” I could see this pleading look in the emerald jewels he called eyes “I’ll think about” finally taking my hand away and walking back to the entrance ,shutting the large the cathedral doors behind me. It locks it self as certain carvings in the door start to glow golden  revealing sigils and then the door unlocks itself swiftly. I open to see the comfort of my small apartment with boxes and files scattered a around and a half eaten cup-a-noodles on the coffe table.

“Home Sweet Home” I say into the void of my apartment once again making sure to shut the door behind me as the door is overtaken in gold light and morphs into the average apartment door. I flop onto the couch,still trying processing the events of the night.

A/N: IF YOU TOOK THE TIME TO READ THIS THANK YOU SO MUCH!! i understand it's not a mainstream character and you're taking a chance during your midngint tumblr scroll so thank you!! love, lemonz <3

**DO NOT STEAL, REPLICATE, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. **

I strictly FORBID any form of reproduction, replication, or translation of my stories without my explicit consent. This includes reposting my stories on other websites, platforms, etc.

[itsdeathofabachelor]

any hazamada headcanons?

I really really need to crane my sights onto more characters outside of part three because part four is so good specifically because there are so many reaccuring characters. Like, I remember seeing Hazamada and thinking, ‘Oh, he’s a little funky, I like him.’ And then not expecting to ever see him again and then I remembered this was part four we’re talking about here— there’s so many little side quests and I love it. So, yes!! I do have some Hazamada headcannons!! Let me know how you like them, I’d love to hear!

He gets ideas from other people. What I mean by that is you know when you see someone buy something and you passed the thing already and didn’t even think about buying it, but now you’ve seen someone else buy it and it’s like, ‘Awe shucks, I should’ve bought that’ ?

Hazamada. Hazamada does that. Except he has no shame about it. Like Josuke and Okuyasu are talking about going to a bakery to get that limited addition cake for this upcoming festival and it wiggles into Hazamada’s mind who’s sitting a bench over. He saw the ads already; could not have given less of a shit. But now he’s already half way to this stupid bakery to buy this stupid cake.

He gained consciousness like two months ago and still hasn’t gotten used to it. He looked out the window in math class and was like, ‘I’m gonna die one day.’ And has been off kilter ever since. Koichi found him trying to transfer his working mind into his stand like some sort of freak immortality glitch by pressing his forehead really hard against it and holding his breath. His lips were turning blue. Koichi had to call Jotaro. Jotaro told him if he ever became immortal from that he would lock him in a metal box and throw him in the ocean. Hazamada believed him.

Hazamada fucking hates cheese. Can’t stand it. When he was a kid his mom wouldn’t tell him there was cheese in something but he knew. It was like a sixth sense. He also knew if she used the same knife to make him a peanut butter and jam sandwich. On that note, he was also the kid who wouldn’t eat a sandwich if you didn’t cut it right.

His favourite idol had a buzz cut so he got one as a tribute to them but found out he had a weird shaped head so he worn a hat until it grew out. Now his hair is super layered because he didn’t leave the tuft of hair at the top of his head so it would grow back even. His hair is so dark and fine nobody can tell.

He tried to make his stand look like his childhood dog but it couldn’t make the right shape so it just turned into a really fucked up realistic furry and it scared him so bad that he still has to sleep with his blankets pulled over his face.

Hazamada doesn’t actually have insomnia but he likes the look of ‘crusty no sleep’ so he obsessively researched special effects in movies (movies are his long time, recurring hyperfixation btw) and found out how to make himself look as sleep deprived as possible. When people ask him why he looks so tired he gets super proud and hides it so badly. He makes a killing on Halloween though. I headcannon he has some American cousins and him and his family visited around that time when he was a kid so he’s uber invested in Halloween and takes it way too seriously back in Japan.

[rottenbrainstuff]

BG3 playthrough: patches, Astarion thoughts, Grymforge

(Spoilers)

Patch 4 is a thing: People are complaining that the patch made Cazador stronger and removed the way to end the fight quicker by yeeting him over the edge of a platform… I dunno. I think you SHOULDN’T be able to cheese the fight like that. I think he SHOULD be hard to beat. He’s such a crusty unimpressive little dickwad, making the fight super hard is going to be the only way I can take that dried up asshole seriously. I’ve also seen some people complain the update made them redownload the whole game again? Or doubled the size of the game in their storage? Wut? Didn’t happen over here, for me, the update was about 10 gigs and only took a few minutes to complete??

Also some discussion about how the patch has added the ability for a dark urge to blame a murder on Astarion. Am I going nuts? I STG I saw that option already. Was that an early access thing or something? When I read the patch notes I was surprised it was a NEW addition. There’s some cranky discussion that Larian just wants to be mean to Astarion - look guys, I think Astarion is probably the favourite character, judging from the amount of his content and the marketing. What’s that old saying about how it’s a terrible thing to be the favourite of the narrative? Because then all the bad stuff happens to you? Anyways if a dark urge is going to blame a murder on anyone, Astarion the VAMPIRE is the obvious choice. So myeh. I think it’s nothing to get offended by, folks. The dialogue that triggers if you do this BTW is hilarious, the team is just like “ah yes, murderous Astarion, that makes sense” and they seem generally ok with it. “Oh Astarion! You and your murder!” Astarion is not happy you accused him, but he seems more offended not simply just by being accused of murder, but by being accused of murdering someone and wasting all the blood.

So I’m working through the grymforge now. In the beginning I was getting horribly lost constantly, because the map changes around as you go to different areas. I think I’m good now but it was funny at first. Even in a video game with a map right there, my sense of direction is terrible.

I liked the little touch of Astarion disapproving if you bow your head in respect by the large group of dead gnome slaves. He is totally fine if you vow to get revenge on their murderers, but useless thoughts and prayers don’t do shit to help anyone. I think I’ve mentioned that he seemed like he was getting better about being huffy when I decide to help people, but then I grabbed a chunk of disapproval for arguing with Nere and Brithvar in support of the slaves. Guess my man still has some issues to sort through. I know that we have his dislike of gnomes in general, lol, but he doesn’t have objections to me helping the gnomes in other situations - IE inviting Barcus to stay at our camp - he specifically objects to me insisting the slaves be let go. In my head I imagine that he gets angry seeing someone jump in like a knight in shining armor saving these people being hurt and killed under their cruel masters, not even asking for any payment in return, when there was no one, not a single soul at all, who helped him in the almost 200 years he spent enslaved by Cazador. I feel like the more someone is in a situation that reminds him of himself, the more uncomfortable and angry he gets about it.

Poor dumbass. My big buff drow is gonna scruff him like a feral cat and feed him churus until he stops hissing.

I’m reading a lot of thoughts about how sad Astarion’s ending is if he stays a spawn and loses his ability to be in the sun, I’m reading drabbles about him crying about being burned in the sun, never able to be in the sun again etc, and it’s like…

I’m not saying it’s not sad, cause it is. His origin scene of waking up in the sunlight is good, his romance morning-after where he’s literally basking in the sunrise (and perhaps it can be assumed, is something he does most mornings) is so nice. For some reason though, I’m just not as moved by it all as much as other people seem to be. Maybe it’s because I have a drow tav who really isn’t… like, the idea of never being able to be in the sun, just in and of itself, it doesn’t feel like that much of a tragedy to him and to me, as a single issue. I know it’s not a single issue, I know the sun thing is symbolic of all the other vampire spawn issues coming back. But in fics and discussion people really do fixate on the sunlight, even suggest that it’s a good enough reason to do the ascendant ending, just to fix it, and yeah. Man. Look, my guy over here knows plenty of people who lived their whole lives without sunlight at all, sunlight is certainly lovely, and it’s certainly not a great thing if the choice is totally removed from you, but this enormous TRAGEDY? I just don’t feel it.

Plus I dunno guys. Maybe I’m weird, but I don’t think the answer to everyone’s story arcs is necessarily erasing everything that’s been done to them and doing a factory reset. It’s too bad Astarion isn’t able to keep the fun perks of the tadpole, but, like, that’s ok. That’s something that can be moved on from. If doing the right thing was always easy and without any tradeoffs or consequences ever, everyone would always do the right thing. Something something you can never really go back because you have been changed by the journey. I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain. I’m not that sad about it and honestly I find it more satisfying in his epilogue that he now has some spawn limitations to contend with again, more satisfying than if everything had just been magically fixed forever like a handy little factory reset. I really like the post-game idea of my drow tav and him traveling through the underdark together to try and organize the freed spawn.

Anyways back to the Grymforge: I met Nere and kicked his stupid slimy ass. I was really mad there seems to be no way to save that poor gnome he flings into the lava. I had no idea you could invite Barcus to stay at your camp? I’ve thoroughly spoiled a lot of things with this game for myself, so I’m always really delighted when I run into something I legit didn’t know. Man dude, I hope this guy you’ve been chasing is worth it. Somehow I rather suspect he isn’t. But you what makes me a bit bemused……. So drow are supposed to have a matriarchal culture, a TERRIBLE matriarchal culture, where males are enslaved or even just freaking killed. And yet, even so, of all the drow characters I’ve run into so far, two have been women and six have been men. (and that’s not even counting the petrified drow that stayed petrified in that field, who I’m assuming are also all guys!) Even in a matriarchal culture, there’s still more important male characters than female ones?... kinda bemused by that. Oh well. Small niggle.

I think there’s an elevator here that leads straight to act 2??? Am I already that close to being done act 1??? When I’m done in the underdark I’m doubling back to do the stuff in the mountain pass.

A personal side note: Astarion’s face is starting to piss me off. I had an ex with an extremely similar face, similar fine bone structure and high cheekbones. He was much younger though. Guy was the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and dumb as a box of rocks. (Stupid, anti-Semitic rocks) I am constantly reminded of my stupid ex while I contemplate Astarion’s cheekbones, and I mourn that that man was not blessed with more sense or else I might still be with him.