#and he both leans into it and practices getting around it at all times. whichever is more useful to him in the moment

[talentforlying]

thinking today about constantine and the various personas / disguises he wears as a con man!!

when he wants to make people underestimate his intelligence (and/or get under some rich snobs' skins) he has a tendency to thicken his accent, play hard & heavy with aphorisms, and adopt an overly-cheerful, affectedly blasé attitude. (a great example being his introductory "morning squire! nice day for an orgy, eh, wot?" when he got himself invited to that high society fuckfest to scam england's upper crust with some bullshit magic.) he'll get much more touchy-feely, gets up in people's spaces more than is socially appropriate, and really plays the fool, so when he turns around and reveals the trick, he gets to enjoy all the gobsmacked reactions.

when he wants to fit in with high society or get something out of someone by making them feel important / respected / bonded to him in some way, the scouse doesn't disappear; his voice just gets lower, slower, and has smoother, crisper enunciation. maybe a touch of RP if he's really laying it on thick. this version of constantine has got tailored suits and cufflinks, avoids touching and being touched like the plague, mirrors behaviors to make connections, makes eye contact like he's playing chicken with everyone he looks at, and offers hook-ups to all the vices known to man, as well as the ones known by those well beyond humanity. he makes a point of establishing himself as a useful and reliable contact for anything and everything, so that if he ever needs an angle on someone or a little extra cash, he knows exactly where to get a little lucrative material.

the common thread between the two is that he makes himself memorable, be it in a positive or a negative way. he makes sure people not only see him, but take note of him; that they leave with a memory, so if their paths ever cross again or they ever need his particular skillset, there's a chance to turn a profit later on.

#i view constantine very much as someone who knows Exactly who he is and how he's perceived by the world #and he both leans into it and practices getting around it at all times. whichever is more useful to him in the moment #he manufactures the way he comes off to people that he's trying to work an angle on. he tailors himself to an ideal #and if he doesn't like you then he is doing Every Little Thing Possible to give you the exact Opposite of that ideal #for as long as you will let him mock you with it #and at the same time that he's a shit-eating liar & a pro grifter he's also very openly & unabashedly himself in almost every situation #he just picks & chooses what parts of himself to put out into the light. cold bastard for the cold bastards. loyal friend for loyal friends #i can't remember atm where he got his nickname as a 'man for all seasons' but he really truly is #( headcanons. ) I'M JUST LIKE THE BASTARDS I'VE HATED ALL ME LIFE. #anyway this is the last gasp of my paper-writing brain so idk if it makes sense all the way #suffice to say he is not afraid to make every aspect of himself into a useful tool. he doesn't shy away from himself in any regard really #it's why the self loathing hits him so hard sometimes: he's always glued to the screen. always viewing himself in technicolor

[sonder-paradise]

Oooh, am I seeing this right? Requests are open! ( ᗒᗨᗕ ) I’ve been waiting for this day..! If you can, can I please ask for Chuuya and/or Dazai drabble or oneshot (whichever you feel like) with an enemies to lovers trope? I’m a sucker.. thanks and I hope you’re taking care of yourself! <3

𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠? — 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬

◊ ft. chuuya nakahara, osamu dazai, gn!reader

◊ genre. enemies to lovers, drabbles, pining the hell outta each other

— 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

"what the hell was that?"

chuuya's voice echoed from the hallway as the two of you trudged down after a rather inconclusive mission. it wasn't primarily your fault that you had forgotten the new series of instructions he had given you on the spot.

but then again, it was basically his fault for going off-script as well. you frowned, grasping the arm you were currently nursing.

"what do you mean, 'what the hell was that?' what the hell were you doing?!"

"i was doing fine. i thought i told you if things went south to go back to base."

"oh, shut up. i practically saved your life, nakahara."

"i didn't need that help, l/n. you're a pain in my ass anyways."

the two of you shot a glare at the other before the ache in your limbs caught up with you both. he flinched, his leg clearly going through a rather upsetting time in addition to your arm.

"c'mere let's get fix up before the Boss lectures us both," you sighed, pulling him into the room.

he frowned, shifting down on the seat across from you. upon noticing the way you struggled opening up the first aid kit, he clicked his tongue, reaching out a hand to snatch it from you.

"hey!"

"shut it. you're fucking arm isn't even working. i'll do it."

"i don't nee—"

"i didn't ask."

oh, this man! this stupid, idiotic fool! the very thought of his callous tone was enough to burn your bones and grind your teeth.

he grasped your arm, eliciting a loud wince. you expected him to scold you for the noise, but instead he lessened his pressure, holding your arm as if it were porcelain.

"sorry," he mumbled. and you practically didn't catch it if not for the fact he had gotten ever so close to you. his hands carefully bound the arm that you nursed and there was this... odd look in his pretty eyes.

wait, pretty?

you paused, starstruck at the mere thought of finding chuuya nakahara of all people 'pretty.' but there was something fascinating and hypnotizing about the way he gazed at your injuries. he seemed almost upset at them.

"stop glaring at my arm, there's nothing i could do about it."

"yeah, right. at the very least, stop squirming you're fucking up my wrapping."

"it's too tight."

chuuya paused, looking up at you before leaning in just a bit closer. a wicked smile crept into his expression and a spark of something close to lust and hatred seeped into his eyes.

"complain anymore and i'll tie your pretty, little wrists together."

— 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢

"you're infuriating, dazai."

"idiotic, perhaps?"

"antagonizing."

"absolutely vexing?"

"oh shut it, we're supposed to be working right now, not fooling around in a silly cafe."

dazai grinned, cupping his hands around a warm mug of coffee. you rolled your eyes at the smile, finding this situation to be nothing less than nonsensical.

"we're supposed to be looking into the assignment fukuzawa gave us. can you please explain to me what we're doing here?"

you tapped a finger against the desk, observing the foolish man before you. he was certain a character. a wild card, if that was accurate. but, even now, when the two of you were supposed to be at work, he was fooling around.

"what's wrong? do you not like our little outing?"

dazai took a sip from his drink, smiling like a mischievous child. it's clear he's trying to overrun your patience, but you were not willing to let that go.

"i just think we should be working."

"ah, but we are, my darling! i'm working on a side project on my own."

this again. you were certain this was the fifteenth time he had mentioned this silly little side project of his. whatever it was, he clearly was getting closer to the conclusion of it.

"what's wrong, y/n? not liking the company?"

"not at all, actually."

he gave you a brief pout from behind the cup. there's something oddly adorable about it. just from the way he seemed so earnest towards you. as if there's something he wanted to admit for the first time.

"sorry," you mumbled, seemingly surprised at your own apology.

"not need, i'd say you aren't exactly my cup of tea either."

oh, you have half a mind to throw hands with this man right here and now. but you pause that thought when he flashes that familiar grin all over again.

"but those sorts of feelings are what people usually sort out on first dates, no?"

"i suppose so... wait... first date?"

dazai seems amused at this. the laughter that trickles out from him as you burning from the neck up.

"yes, first date. is this not what this is? after all the hard work i put into planning my little side project..."

oh, this little bastard...!

Taglist: @todorokichills @alittlesimp @greenshirtimagines @darlinqserenity @nameless-shrimp @whorefordazai @requiem626k @missrown @nonsense-corner @kiyokoxd @jessbeinme15 @starglow-xx @shadyteacup @scul-pted @kuraxmasha @yochicoz @pompompurin1028 @trashykawahq @swrdemon @life-sus @foolishestchildofchilds @fyodorscello @planetxiao @dazaiaiko @chuuyasboots @allisonlol @questioningmyownexistence @sebtomm @nullified-kiss @nathansside @cuteflowers-101 @sigmafied @boombboi @scarletta-ruan @skgch @daz8i @httpsobi @dazaiscum @thekaylahub @luciferspen @dazaisfavgf @alice0blog @irethepotato @monastary @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @disa-ster @mastering-procrastinating @wonpielle @ay-chuu @killmewithafanfic @aestellia @goldenglow149

#[🖋] writing #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya fluff #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd chuuya #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai fluff #bsd dazai #osamu dazai x reader

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Feel You No Matter What

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic (this part is lightly edited btw)

warnings: minor angst, few curse words, and i think that’s it

“Babe?” You hear your husband call out for you, but you’re busy breastfeeding Sloane while also helping AJ eat his dinner, while also monitoring Nolan as he eats.

“Mommy, can I have more berries?” Nolan requests and you immediately move to serve him as best you can with one available hand.

Once you’ve situated Nolan and go back to feeding Sloane, you rest your eyes, feeling the effects of the multiple long nights taking a toll on you. Sloane has been on a sleep regression and every time she cries during the night, she ends up waking AJ. You’re usually the one tending to them as the hockey season is starting, and Mat needs sleep.

“Mommy, I’m done! Can I have some water?” Nolan asks, interrupting your silly excuse of a nap.

You move, almost robotic, around the kitchen as you give Nolan water and clean up Angel’s mess. Once you’re done with that task, you burp Sloane and rock her in your arms.

“Babe?” Mat calls out once again, finally finding you in the kitchen.

“Yes, Mathew?” You sigh out, eyes clenched shut because you really just want to sleep.

He stays quiet, though. He watches you as you practically fall asleep while leaning against the kitchen island.

He clears his throat, gaining your attention.

“What?” You ask, eyes peering into his.

“Do you need help?” Mat asks, trying to mask the disappointment when you didn’t realize he got a haircut.

“Can you put Sloane in her crib, I need to take a shower,” it’s not a question, not really. You were just telling him how he can help.

After your shower, you take both your boys a bath, tucking them into bed while Mat bathes Sloane. You’re so glad that they’re down and you can rest, but then you realize you still have laundry to do. You take a deep breath in and slowly breathe out.

“Babe, I need help!” Mat calls out for you.

“Yes?”

“Do you think I should wear my navy blue polo or my black polo?” He asks.

“I don’t know, Mathew. Whichever one you want,” you mumble.

“Well I want you to pick it out,” he whispers.

“I don’t have time for this. I need to go downstairs and sort out all our laundry,” you reply, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose.

“All you have to do is pick one. I’m asking nicely.”

“And I’m telling you that I have better things to do. Both are fine so pick one,” you say, walking out of your bedroom and down the stairs.

You take your time, not wanting to go upstairs because you know the way you were acting was uncalled for. You still can’t bring yourself to apologize for it, though. You’re frustrated and tired.

When you do, finally, go upstairs, you’re expecting Mat to be asleep. He isn’t. You ignore each other as you both get ready for bed. Your movements are sluggish and by the time you’re done, Mat is already settled in bed. You get under the covers, turning on your side, eyes quickly falling shut.

“Seriously?” You barely hear the word coming out of your husband’s mouth.

You slowly turn towards him, eyes wide at his small outburst.

“No “goodnight,” no kiss? You didn’t even notice I got a haircut,” he points out, voice sounding broken.

You’re stunned, shocked into silence. You feel your heart crumble at the mere fact that you didn’t even realize your own husband got a haircut. You also hate the way he sounded so sad when he said you didn’t say goodnight or give him a kiss.

“You’ve also been calling me by my name instead of "babe," or "barzy,” did I do something wrong?”

“No. I’m sorry. I’m just tired and frustrated because I’m tired,” you explain.

“So you just decided to ignore me, because then I’m one less thing for you to worry about? Nice to know that I’m not so important,” he whispers, turning his back towards you.

“Mat, please. I’m sorry and I didn’t ignore you because I didn’t want to deal with you. I'm just burnt out. The hockey season is just starting and I need to get back into our routine, a routine that needs to be readjusted because we have a third child,” you say out loud into the darkness that’s coated by silence.

“That doesn’t mean for you to ignore me. Especially when I was trying to help you as soon as I got home. I would never ignore you because no matter what I love you,” he responds, and it feels like a punch in the gut when he refers to your actions as you not loving him.

You don’t say anything else, you know there are no words you can say right now that can make things better. You could tell him you love him, but you feel the lump forming in your throat, keeping you silent.

The next morning, you wake up alone in your bed. A pout forms on your face when you reach out for Mat’s body, only to be met with cold sheets. Then, you remember the events from last night and you feel your tears clouding your vision all over again. It’s a hard task to get yourself out of bed, but you know that Mat will be leaving soon and the kids can’t take care of themselves.

Making your way downstairs, you hear Nolan’s favorite morning cartoons playing on the large tv in your living room. You spot Mat sitting on the couch, both boys on each of his sides, and Sloane settled in his arms. She’s staring at him, not caring about all the noise, just him. You get her. You could also just get lost in him.

Mat turns towards the stairs when he hears them creek, his eyes locking with yours. Only this time, he doesn’t look at you with effortless love, he looks at you with hurt eyes that look sunken in and dark. You hope he wasn’t awake all last night, and you hope that he didn’t hear you forcefully quiet your sobs. Surely he was asleep. He had to be. If he was awake and heard or felt you crying, he would’ve comforted you. At least you hope he would’ve.

“Did Sloane eat already?”

“Yeah, she won’t fall asleep, though,” he answers.

“She’s too busy looking at her daddy,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. Your efforts aren’t successful.

“I have to go in 10 minutes, can you get her,” you’re immediately reaching out for Sloane, heart twisting when she starts crying.

“Sloane, it’s okay, baby. Don’t cry. Daddy has to go to work. He’ll be back soon,” you say, but as you get through each word, the more your tears threaten to fall. You start crying with Sloane, and you think you’re so pathetic for it.

You leave the boys on the couch and hastily take Sloane upstairs. You didn’t want Mat to see you cry, although you’re pretty sure he already saw you.

You lay Sloane in her crib, quickly walking out but bumping into Mat on the way.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice soft.

“Fine. You need to get going,” you mutter.

“I need to make sure my wife is okay.”

You just about crumble onto the floor, knees buckling from underneath you and your sobs finally being unleashed from their death grip. Mat swiftly holds onto you, lowering the both of you to sit on the cold floor.

“You think I don’t love you anymore,” you spit out.

“Don’t deny it. You think that I ignored you because I don’t love you anymore, and that kills me,” you continue when he tries to deny your claim.

He looks at you with that same heartbroken look from last night.

“I’m a terrible wife because you don’t think I love you and I didn’t notice your haircut,” you sob out.

“You’re not a terrible wife.”

You grab his hand, moving it to rest over your heart.

“When I see you, I still feel like a schoolgirl with a huge crush. You still give me butterflies; you still make me blush like crazy. I’m so in love with you, it hurts that you can’t see it,” you say truthfully, hand on his cheek so that he’s looking into your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know you love me.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine that you felt unloved,” you try to stop him from feeling bad.

“Well, I’m sorry that you’re tired and frustrated. I’m sorry that I can’t be here to help you. I love you so much.” He connects his lips with yours, letting his tongue tangle with yours when your mouth opens for him.

“I love you, barzy. Please don’t think otherwise. As for you not being here, it’s not your fault. It’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when we got married or decided to have kids. I love you and I love that you work so hard for us and yourself. I love you,” you state, kissing his jaw down to his neck.

You come to a stop when you feel something wet landing on your collarbones. You quickly lift Mat’s head to see tears falling from his eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?” You ask, tears falling because you hate to see him upset.

“I feel like shit for making you feel like shit. I’m supposed to always lift you up,” he mutters.

You wipe away his tears, kissing his lips repeatedly until his tears stop. You softly massage his scalp while he catches his breath.

“Baby, you had every right to feel the way you did. Never be afraid to be honest with me. I was the shitty one. It’s okay, no harm done. We’re good, now. I love you.”

“I love you,” he says against your skin from where his head is buried in your neck.

“The haircut, by the way, is not the best decision. However, you’re lucky that you’re always sexy no matter what,” you tease him.

“I kind of regret it, too,” he grimaces, but you just pull him into another kiss, happy that you’re not at odds anymore.

a/n: Sorry it’s been a while since I last updated for this series. I hope y’all enjoy!! If you have any requests for this story, send in!!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #mat barzal smut #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

[whoreanghae]

water ; joshua hong

genre - protective shua, fake dating kinda?

word count - 1.1k

disclaimers - mentions of alcohol / being drunk, unwanted attention, lowercase on purpose, no proofreading, fic under the cut

a/n - just a short fic, nothing special just shua being very protective :) been finding it hard to get motivation to write lately so this is just something from the back of my brain. enjoy!!

“next rounds on you, jeonghan! i can hear my bank account crying from my pocket!!”

going out with the guys after an especially long string of promotions was the perfect way to blow off steam. they always chose the best, fanciest bars to occupy. plus, there was an added bonus that if coups gets drunk enough, you can convince him that he agreed to pay for the next round of shots.

after having a couple drinks that were definitely stronger than you anticipated, it was time for you to make your way to the restrooms. minghao stabilized you as you stood up and less than gracefully made your way to the other side of the room. when you got into the restroom, you stood and looked in the mirror. as the room spun around you, you realized that maybe your limit has diminished as you’d gotten older. you do your thing and head back out, making a stop at the bar first to get yourself a glass of water. at least drunk you was still capable of making somewhat rational decisions.

as you stood at the bar, you half fell over but caught yourself on the counter. a man walked around you, hooking his arm around your waist and holding you up. you didnt think twice, assuming it was one of the guys just helping you out. but, as you looked towards the table they were all sitting around, the only empty seat was your own. now you’re filled with confusion and discomfort. you try to pull yourself away but the man tightens his grip on your side. 

“now now, we both know you’re not as stable as you think you are.”

you try to make your voice as stable as possible as you make an attempt at pushing him away or getting someones attention, whichever you can manage first.

“im fine, please let me go.”

the man leans closer until you hear a voice from his opposite side whichs makes his arms tense, but slightly release you at the same time.

“babe, everything ok?”

joshua?

“not really..”

joshua steps closer to the man who has now completely let go of your waist. he lowers his tone and his voice becomes raspy and powerful as he speaks.

“i don’t want to sound like a douche or anything, but i can have you kicked out of here faster than you could leave on your own accord. so i would suggest that you make a decision before i have to.”

the man mutters apologies to shua as he steps back and hurriedly leaves the bar. at this point, you are completely depending on the counter to hold you up. shua puts a (much more welcoming) arm around you, making you feel secure. you lean into him with your head on his shoulder as the bartender comes over and shua asks him for a glass of water. the bartender hands him the glass as the two of you make your way back to the table. the guys shift down so you can take the seat next to joshua, and you sink into his side as he feeds you the glass of water.

at this point your night had been ruined, and the guys noticed that too. shua offers to take you home which you gladly accept. you both say goodbye to everyone as you head outside and find a bench to sit on while you wait for your taxi to show up. you babble into shua’s shoulder as he scrolls on his phone.

“thank you, shua.”

“hm?”

he put his phone in his pocket as he turns his full attention to you.

“thank you for getting that man to go away.”

“i knew you were uncomfortable, i just did what anyone else shouldve done.”

“but this is better.. cuz its you…” 

shua chuckles as he rubs your arm, making you snuggle further into his side. when the taxi comes, joshua practically carries you to the car. you settle in and he makes quiet small talk with the driver as you slowly fall asleep on his shoulder.

when you get to your apartment, you pass shua your keys and rub your eyes while he unlocks the door and ushers you inside. he picks out your pajamas as you sit on your bed, watching his every move. he passes you your clothes as he leaves the room to let you get dressed.

you call out for him to come back in when youre in your pajamas, and he passes you another glass of water. you groan but he laughs as you take the glass anyways. he grabs your makeup remover wipes from your bathroom and sits on your bed next to you, lifting your legs and moving you to face him. his hands are warm.

when you’re all ready for bed, you crawl under the covers and watch as he puts everything back in its place. he makes everything look beautiful, elegant. even the simplest of motions are incredible when it’s shua. he pulls out his phone to book another cab to his place, but you sit up half way in your bed.

“shu?”

“yeah?”

“maybe it’d be cheaper if you didn’t get a taxi tonight and i could take you home tomorrow?”

“are you suggesting i stay here tonight?”

you give him a pleading smile as you pull back the covers and he playfully rolls his eyes. most of the guys have left miscellaneous clothes items at your house from other occasions, so he digs through the drawer and finds some pajamas to change into. when he comes back into the room, you watch him again. beautiful. thats the only word to describe him.

he slides into the covers and smiles at you as he leans over you and turns off the lamp on your bedside table. the night fades away, as you both fall asleep after mumbled ‘goodnight’s into the dark. 

when you wake up, the bed is empty. you stumble out of bed, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in the right side of your head. the smell of breakfast enters your nose, as you get to the kitchen and see shua cooking at the stove. you walk to him and rest your cheek on his back. 

“good morning, party animal.”

his eyes are fond as he gestures to the counter behind the two of you, where he has two ibuprofen and a glass of water sitting out, ready for you. 

“another glass of water, ive never been so hydrated in my life.”

shua laughs.

“thats not a bad thing, is it?”

he walks towards you and looks into your eyes as you drink all the water and lay the glass down with a smile.

“no, not at all.”

#kpop x reader #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #seventeen imagines #friends to lovers #protective #fake dating if you squint #kpop #seventeen fluff #seventeen oneshot #seventeen reactions #joshua #joshua hong #seventeen joshua #joshua x reader #svt joshua #whoreanghae

[whats-it-mean]

hi hii! may i request either 03 or 09 (or john !! whichever u think would be most interesting) x reader going through the effects of the unforgiven veredict？

if what i mean isnt understandable i can explain further

Innocent in their eyes ☆

Fuuta Kajiyama + Mikoto Kayano (separate) x reader 

A/N - Fuuta is my cat. i love him. Hope its ok i went with mikoto rather than john, but i’ve been wanting to write for the silly boy for a bit so i took this as a bit of an excuse to do so ^^ (john does kinda make an appearance tho)

C/W - Anxiety, hearing voices

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── Fuuta Kajiyama

Any concern he had for his own well being was gone in an instant as Fuuta rushed to your figure, you being curled up and shaking in the corner of your cell. In a matter of seconds, his arms were wrapped around you and you were brought right up against his chest, his breathing just as rapid as yours as your tears wet his clothes.

You sputtered out a faint apology, followed by ‘this is my fault’, and the boy practically shattered. He desperately tried to pull you closer, burying his face in your shoulder as he held you.

“Shut up. No it’s not.” His voice was almost frantic as he spoke. “It’s not your fault, okay? Don’t.. don’t say that.”

For the first time in a while, it felt like the voices constantly condemning you hushed while Fuuta hugged you on the floor. It was comfortably silent as he simply held you, breathing heavily from the way he ran immediately to you from where he’d been upon hearing about tour verdict.

He knew full well how awful it was, the way the voices never stopped, the way it felt like you were constantly being watched, being judged. The pain was almost unbearable for him, but the idea of you suffering through that brought out a side of him nobody ever saw. He was scared- All he ever wanted was to make sure you were okay and safe, and the idea of you having to suffer through the anguish of a guilty verdict was worse than his own.

You let out a weak smile as his breathing finally started to slow back to a normal pace, and felt yourself leaning into his hold. “….Thank you.”

A slight calm washed over him as he heard your voice, and his grip tightened. “It wasn’t your fault. You.. You aren’t guilty, okay?”

He sighed, smiling against your shoulder as he hugged you.

“You’re as innocent as can be as far as i see it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── Mikoto Kayano

No words were spoken as Mikoto slid himself next to you on your mattress, quietly offering you a mug of hot chocolate with a tired smile. He leaned over you slightly, placing his arm on your shoulder and let his fingers play around with your hair. All you could bring yourself to do was stare into the mug, but you laid your head on Mikoto’s shoulder in a small show of gratitude.

“You know..” His voice was quiet as he spoke, just loud enough for you to hear. “Es is wrong. We’re gonna get out of here soon, okay? I promise.”

With the hand that wasn't already busy with your hair, you felt his fingers entwine with yours as he squeezed your hand ever so slightly. He was convinced even before now that the verdicts given by Es weren’t accurate- As far as Mikoto knew, both of you were there by mistake, but that didn’t stop the turmoil that came with being deemed guilty.

For days since receiving the verdict, you had stayed holed up in your cell. You wouldn't even leave for meals, and so Mikoto coming by like this with food and drinks had become a routine over the past few days. He was the only one you were willing to see at the time, and even then you barely spoke to him, just sitting next to him and taking in all the warmth he had to offer to distract you from the pain.

And watching you go through that triggered emotions in him he hasn’t had to deal with in a long time.

He couldn’t remember any of it, but some of the other prisoners told him he’d even gotten into a fistfight trying to stop Kotoko from hurting you. And even without memory of the fact, as he sat here, your hand in his with him whispering any sort of encouragement he could to you, there was no doubt about it;

You didn’t deserve this, and while he may not know it yet, you could tell he was gonna be doing something about it later.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── End

#⤥ Mairu Writes ! #milgram #milgram x reader #mikoto kayano x reader #fuuta kajiyama x reader #mikoto kayano #john kayano #john kayano x reader #fuuta kajiyama #fuuta milgram #mikoto milgram #john milgram #orekoto #09 x reader #03 x reader

[v--143]

Day 2- Accidental

🎃 [Lee! Seungmin]

👻 [Ler! Hyunjin]

“Can’t you- move- out of the- oh my God” Hyunjin whined as Seungmin loaded more boxes onto the elevator. They had been asked to bring some packages up to the JYP building, unknowing that there were so many.

However… neither Hyune nor Seungmin were the type to take two trips. So they squeezed everything onto the elevator.. along with themselves.

“Sorry your highness but there are about 20 damn boxes in my way” Seungmin said as he shuffled as close to Hyunjin as possible to make way for even more boxes. He got the last of them and was now trying to make his way through the jungle of cardboard.

Once finally in, Seungmin and Hyune were at the back corner of the elevator, waiting for the door to close.

“…dude”

“Mhm?” Seungmin said as he kept shuffling around the boxes.

“Did you press our floor button”

“…shit.” Seungmin huffed.

“Seungminniie” Hyunjin said as he grabbed his arm and shook, “you’re making this harderrrrr”

“You have long arms just press it!”

“It’s so far away from us”

“No, you’re just dramatic. Reach forward and press it hurry up!” Seungmin said as he tugged at Hyunjin’s shirt.

Hyunjin leaned as forward as he could to press the button… but couldn’t reach it just yet.

“Hold on-“

Hyunjin used his other hand to push off of anything he could feel behind him to reach the button. The thing behind him though… was Seungmin.

“AAghaga!” Seungmin shrieked as Hyune’s hand pushed off the center of his ribs.

“Are you okay?!” Hyunjin asked, not even looking back as he was still trying to press their floor button.

“Gehet your hand OHOFF ME STOP PUSHING!!!!” Seungmin had his back to the elevator wall as he grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist with both hands, trying to tug him away but failing.

“Hold on- just- help me get this button!!! Shit.. almost- hey help me push more forward” with that, Hyunjin pushed off even harder off Seungmin’s ribs.

“AHA!” Seungmin yelled as his ribs were pushed down on constantly by a desperate Hyunjin, “PLEHEASE PUSH OFF SOHOMETHING EHEHELSE!!”

“Oh shut up and just help me” Hyunjin sounded annoyed but was hysterical on the inside.. but it was no lie that he still could not reach that damn button. Smiling to himself, Hyune kept aiming for it.

“Just— a little— closer—“

“AH— AHAHA!!— HYUAHA—“ was Seungmin’s only response as he threw his head back from the intense grabs at his lower rib cage.

With tears already forming in his eyes, Seungmin shouted, “YOHOU’RE DOING THIS O- ONHAHA AHA ON PUHURPOSE!!” as he reached his limit from Hyunjin’s nonstop attacks for the last minute. He wished that damn elevator door could open.

“Am I?? I didn’t know that!” Hyunjin laughed out.

“HYUAHJIN”

“Mmm that’s not my name??” Hyunjin said with a scribble to Seungmin’s abdomen.

“AHA OKAY OKAHAY Okay OKAY! STOP! STOHOAOAHA—“

Hyunjin began to scribble anywhere he could reach since Seungmin was practically trapped by the boxes all around him. Suddenly, his hand slapped up against the wall and pushed two buttons (one of them being their floor).

“THAHANK GOD” Seungmin screamed as he laughed deeply and grabbed his aching, queasy stomach. His nerves felt like they were on fire.

-[going up elevator]-

“NO- STOHOP-“ Seungmin shouted as Hyune continued to go at him until the elevator finally stopped on their floor. Lucky for Seungmin, he was just a tiny bit closer to the elevator door than Hyunjin was by the time they arrived. So, he jumped off, knocking some boxes off with him, and immediately tapped the [Close Door] button. With that, Hyunjin went up to the floor of whichever button Seungmin accidentally pressed… but not before whispering some threats that left Seungmin running to find a hiding spot.

———————————————————————————

YIPPPEPEEEEEPEPEEEEEE I’ve been using a random name generator for the members in these prompts and it’s been doing so good tbh I’ve loved day 1 and 2 so far ^^

#tickletober 2023 #tickletober #sfw tickling community #straykids tickle #tword community #tword post #tword blog #tword thoughts #sfw twords #tword skz #skz tickle #kpop tickle #stray kids #stray kids tickle #stray kids fluff #straykids #tickle community #kpop tickle fic #tickle fic #lee seungmin #ler Hyunjin #augtickletober2023

[xikerhunt]

Hiii can you do jinsik x reader headcanons or imagine (whichever you prefer) as an idol couple plssss maybe reader is a NewJeans member🤭

Heyy, sorry it took forever. But here you go. I hope you enjoy it.

HIS IDOL

Jinsik x reader

Warning: kissing, nicknames (baby, love, cutie) let me know if I missed anything.

Genre: fluff

You were sitting on Jinsik's lap with your head on his shoulder tired from early morning dance practice.

Today both of you had to perform for a comeback and to be honest you were nervous.   It's not like it's your first time performing.

It's been a year since your debut with New jeans and it was nice.

You had kind members and you built some great friendships.  Jinsik just made his debut with his group Xikers.

He's been working so hard and all you wanted to do was support him the way he supports you.   "Jinsik! You're on in 10." says his manager. He just nods before kissing the top of your head.

"Baby? I have to go now, I'll be back soon" Jinsik whispers in your ear.  You pout not wanting him to leave. "mhm okay my love.  Good luck. " you say before kissing him.  "thank you cutie. Good luck with your performance too. " he says, pecking your cheek.   It's later that same day and your performance went well.

You felt like you were nervous for no reason.  You haven't seen Jinsik since after the performances.

You had a great idea to surprise him with a cute movie date.  You put out some candles and plugged in the good air freshener.

You then ordered some pizza knowing that jinsik would be hungry.  As you're fixing the couch cushions you hear the door opening.

You almost forgot you gave him a key.   "Hey, love. I missed you, all this for me? " he says hugging you and kissing you on the lips.

"Aww, I missed you too baby. And yes I thought I would do something nice since you've been working so hard"

you say kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck.  You observe his features even though you see them every day.

You just can't get enough of looking at your boyfriend.  "You look handsome today," you say, pushing a strand of hair from his brown eyes.  He smiles. "So I don't look handsome every day?" he says with a cute pout.  "Of course you do but today you look extra handsome. I like your hair, it's so cute." you compliment him.  He looks into your eyes. "mhm, really now. " he says as he shakes his hair in your face making you scrunch your nose at him.

You both chuckle.  "I saw your performance. You did so well," you say with a soft smile. "Thank you, baby. I was preparing hard for this comeback." you could tell he was trying hard. Staying at practice late.

You always understand since you are also an idol and you get how hard and time-consuming it can be.  "I also saw yours, you killed it, and you looked beautiful.

I just didn't like all those fanboys chanting your name when you're mine," he says, putting his arm around your waist. "I know I know, I don't belong to anyone else but you," you say reassuring him.

He nods, leaning in and kissing your lips.  Out of nowhere the doorbell rings. "Oh shoot I forgot I ordered pizza. "

You say opening the door to get your food and thanking the delivery man.   "Ooh, pizza don't mind if I do," he says with a goofy smile rubbing his hands together.

You just shake your head, finding him extremely cute.   "What movie do you wanna watch?" you ask, grabbing the remote as you sit on the couch jinsik following you with a slice of pizza.  "mhmm, how about the new Shazam?" he asked with his mouth full. "eww jinsik, chew with your mouth closed," you say, pushing his shoulder softly.  He just kept eating with a little smile knowing how much that annoyed you.

You look for the movie and eventually find it. A few minutes into the movie and you have fallen asleep.

Jinsik noticed but didn't wanna wake you so he just went into your bedroom to grab your favorite blanket off your bed.  He places it on you softly before leaning in and kissing your forehead. "sweet dreams my love."  

#kpop ambw #xikers fanfic #kpop #xikers x reader #Jinsikxreader #jinsik xikers #xikers jinsik #kpop imagines #kpopfanfic #idol reader

[froggymarsh]

hi!! can i ask for #27 with empires joel or maybe life series bad boys, whichever u think fits the song better? :D

love this song :D it's in french so i'm going entirely off of vibes 😎👍

Joel always feels the smallest when he's walking next to Lizzie.

She towers above him- all blue scales and flowing pink hair like a waterfall down her back. Her tail swishes lightly behind them, almost inseparable to the trailing fabric of her dress. A webbed hand holds his as if he's something precious, and Joel can't help but feel so small.

He's been working on it with Jimmy. Being small around Jimmy is as easy as breathing, but being small around Lizzie is hard! What if she thinks he's weird? Or that he's weak and can't handle himself? Or what if she sees him have an accident?

He squeezes her hand and tries not to think about it. To his surprise, she squeezes back.

He tilts his head up. A cloud halos her head, glowing a lovely pink in the fading light of sunset. She smiles, and Joel's breath escapes him.

She's beautiful.

"Hi," he whispers.

She laughs, light and beautiful, like the kind of bell that would give an angel its wings. "Hello, Joel."

He's feeling brave. "Can I paint you?"

"Paint me?" Lizzie repeats as they step carefully into the Mezalean Matral Palace, nodding to terracotta guards and making their way up to where she knows Joel's bedroom is. "You can, Joel, but right now it's bedtime."

"Please?" he asks, a breath of a thing. He nearly trips over his own feet, eyes locked on Lizzie's. She catches him, looking down again, and he gives her his best puppy-dog eyes, "jus' fast before bed?"

Lizzie smiles, then sighs and reaches over to ruffle his hair.

"Fine. Just fast before bed."

He beams, grasping her hand in both of his and practically drags her all the way up to his room.

Once there, he releases her hand, ducks through the curtains that make up the door, and bounds across the room to the dresser that holds all of his chalk. He pulls it open, yanking a bit when it catches in the middle, and digs through it, pulling out all the blues and pinks that he can find and dumping them onto the floor.

"Oh, careful," Lizzie calls, "don't break all your chalk!"

"I won't!" he shouts back.

Once he's got all of them out, he turns, makes the front of his shirt a pouch, and scoops all of the chalk into it. Then he walks along the wall and finds a place that hasn't been drawn on- a spot in the middle of a small field of sunflowers. He thinks he was saving this spot for something else, but he doesn't remember anymore. It was probably supposed to be him and Lizzie.

He kneels down and dumps all his chalk on the floor again, whipping his head around to see where Lizzie is. She's laying pajamas out on the bed.

"'izzie!" he calls.

She looks up. He pats the spot on the floor next to him. She laughs and makes her way over, a towel draped over her arm.

"Sit sit sit," he says, patting the ground again. She crouches, and instead of sitting like he wants, she removes the crown from his head and fluffs out his hair. "Hey!"

"Just a minute, pumpkin," Lizzie leans down, kissing the top of his head, "I'm going to get everything ready for bedtime, and then I'll come sit, okay?"

Joel pouts.

"I promise," she shifts the crown into her other hand and extends a pinky. "Pinky promise."

He pouts more, but reluctantly wraps his pinky around hers and shakes it once.

She kisses his cheek. "I'll be right back."

He squirms away, giggling, and turns to the wall as she walks away. Before she can disappear, he gets a blue off the floor and starts with an outline.

He's drawn Lizzie a hundred million times before- usually in paintings of the ocean, or in her office, or high up in a tower, or flying through the air on a trident. Many of the drawings are hanging on his walls, in fact, or scribbled in the margins of his notebooks, doodled on the backs of napkins or on blank pages of old books, always careful, always detailed, never as breathtakingly beautiful as the real thing.

Joel grips the piece of chalk tight and vows to make this the best drawing he's ever done.

The chalk scrapes gently against the wall as he works. A bathtub fills in the other room. The wind chimes on his balcony sing, rocked by a gentle breeze. He adds himself next to her- sticks his tongue out between his teeth in concentration- squints at the wall, completely absorbed in his task.

He looks up at the swishing of skirts, and finds Lizzie carefully tracing her fingers along the shapes of sunflowers as she approaches.

"'izzie," he whispers.

Lizzie looks up. Her smile makes her eyes crinkle.

He pats the floor in front of his drawing, and she comes over, obediently kneeling down in front of it. He sits in her lap, pieces of chalk in both hands.

She wraps her arms around him, content.

Then, she gasps. "Is that us?"

Joel nods, trying to scoot forward while still staying on Lizzie's lap. She lifts him and shifts closer to help him reach.

"What are we doing?" Lizzie asks, the gentle tone of her voice warm and safe and wonderful.

"Dancing," Joel answers, finishing the brown on either side of the green stripe in his hair. Then he whispers, "do you like it?"

"I love it," Lizzie whispers back, "you're doing amazing."

And there they sit for an hour or so, listening to the quiet scraping of chalk on the walls and Lizzie's gentle questions. When Joel is properly covered in colorful streaks of chalk dust, his head drooping, Lizzie carefully removes the chalk from his hands and scoops him into her arms, kissing his forehead on the way to the bathtub.

He protests, but quickly settles in the warmth of the water, the flush of his face hidden by mountains of bubbles. After a bath, Lizzie carefully dries him off with a towel, helps him into brightly patterned pajamas, then tucks him into bed with another kiss to the forehead.

She slips across the room to gather up piles of chalk when he calls out to her.

"'izzie?"

She looks up, straightening her posture to meet his eyes, "yes?"

"You're nod'eaving?"

"Not yet, pumpkin," Lizzie answers, returning to her task, picking up three more bits of chalk, "I'm going to clean up first."

"Can you stay, p'ease?"

She pauses. Looks up again.

"For how long?"

"All night," he whispers, pleading, "p'ease?"

She smiles, "of course."

He beams, shifting to one side of the bed to make room.

"I'm going to finish cleaning up first, okay? I'll be there in just a little bit, love."

He nods, fast, and Lizzie returns yet again to her task.

She finishes quickly. Calls for a maid to retrieve one of her spare nightgowns, sings a lullaby to Joel while she waits. When it's brought she changes quickly and climbs into bed next to him, the curl of her tail reaching all the way around him, the tip of it pressing lightly on his back for only a moment.

He's barely awake now. She leans forward, kissing his forehead yet again. This time he doesn't open his eyes, letting out a gentle sigh.

"Love you, 'izzie," he murmurs.

She smiles, "love you too, Joel."

//

The morning brings embarrassment. She'd expect nothing less- he's always embarrassed after regressing.

He apologizes. She tells him he's cute. He blushes a lot, insisting he isn't cute, that he's never been cute, but Lizzie boops his nose and his words dissolve into meaningless fluff, and he buries his face in his hands and lets himself be scooped into a hug, pressed against her chest.

She can feel his heartbeat. She tucks him under her chin and hums.

They have to get up eventually. Lizzie has to go run a kingdom.

Before she does, Joel spots the drawings on the wall.

"What's this mess?" he asks, but the flush on his face suggests he remembers what happened, knows exactly what it was. Lizzie smiles.

"It's us," Lizzie answers, "we're dancing."

Joel smiles, his eyes full of nothing but fondness as he looks up at her. "So we are."

#joel tag #lizzie tag #empires agere #froggy drabbles #THINKS ABOUT THEM. WAAAUGH. #the themb. the belobeds. #started joel pov and ended lizzie pov i'm doin great /lh #might edit this and put it on ao3 later. thinks.

[diorkittys]

how to make your robot gf jealous 101 ˚ ♡ ⋆｡ clementine + human! reader

synopsis : “could momo **** you like this?” her voice box warbled, smothered in envy, selfishness. “you think any of the other outsiders could make you fall apart like i can?” she slightly smushed your cheeks; your sweet, pitiful face drenched in those hot tears. “no, clem! o..only you!” pixelized eyes full of possessiveness, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say she was smirking. “that’s right, baby, only me.”

—TW : smut , fem! reader ( let’s go lesbians!! ) , fem terms , jealous clem ( oh my lord ) , possessiveness , fingering , the knee thing…

maybe it started when momo was being a little too touchy-feel-y towards you. his hand on your shoulder each time you made him laugh; how he hugged you just a second too long when you first walked through the door.

or maybe the first tick was caused by doc’s little pet names for you (as he does for most of his friends)—“oh, doll, you made it!” “whatever you say, hun.” “a fascinating discovery indeed, darling!”

zabaltazar most definitely struck a nerve when his full, undivided attention seemed to be solely on you all night—eyes on you whenever you had a story to tell and with input at the end to let you know he cared. even directing a different bot’s own conversation to focus on you once again.

whichever it was to push some buttons didn’t matter…

“a little bit of a baby? are you forgetting the time you screamed because you saw a rat? you didn’t let any of us leave until we scoured your entire flat to make sure there wasn’t any there!”

momo pouted, leaning back against the couch, “you’d be scared too if you saw one of those… things hanging around your living room!” his foot playfully hitting yours, which you returned by lightly kicking his shin.

momo pouted, leaning back against the couch, “you’d be scared too if you saw one of those… things hanging around your living room!” his foot playfully hitting yours, which you returned by lightly kicking his shin.

“it was a toy! it wasn’t even real!” you laughed, the other two outsiders by your side joining in with you. doc nudged your arm, smiling, “we better go ahead and check again, doll; he’s gonna get all paranoid with this memory resurfaced!”

you laughed harder at the comment, and clementine could’ve sworn she’d seen red in the moment. she hadn’t been amused in the slightest the past twenty minutes. and even with one of her favorite momo stories being told, she just couldn’t stop focusing on every little thing her friends did around you.

“doll,”

doc making you laugh.

zabaltazar not taking his annoying eyes off you.

momo now practically playing footsies with you??

oh, no—no way. this was stopping. now.

“this has been fun,” clem started, mimicking a stretch whilst yawning. everyone’s attention turned to her. “… but we should get going now—i’m sure, my love, here is also pretty tired.”

“but-“ your girlfriend cut you off with a tug of your arm to get you standing, “buuttt we’ll be back tomorrow! sorry to cut this so short!” she wasn’t at all; in fact, a weight lifted from her metal chest as soon as she had the door to baltz’ flat opened.

clem and you waved your goodbyes to the bots left behind—who all shared a question mark on their screens as they glanced between each other. with a slam of the door, you both made your leave (one was more reluctant).

“clem, what was that?” you puzzled, worriedly. though, instead of an answer, the outsider simply led you down the cascade of stairs in the apartment building; your wrist still tightly captured.

“clem? clem, talk to me, please.” as much as you were concerned about her behavior, you were also out of breath; clementine was practically dragging you towards your shared apartment.

and maybe if she opened up she would-

“please, slow down!”

but the notoriously stubborn outsider didn’t say a word, yet she calmed her pace… just by a little. it was enough for you to not have to jog to keep up. you had no doubt in your mind that she wouldn’t be opposed to tugging along your limp body had you lost your footing.

she swung open your flat’s door, giving you a chance to catch your breath as she locked it behind you. you had your hands on your knees, basically gasping for air—you must’ve been going as fast as a car back there, you thought.

and just as you repaired your lungs, standing up straight to turn and face her and say, “clem, what is going-“ your girlfriend pushed you back against the wall, her ‘kiss me’ tattoo right beside your head.

“‘what’s going on’? i don’t know—maybe you should tell me what was going on back there.” your previous words stuck in your throat at clementine’s aggressive tone.

you were trapped between wallpaper and narrowed eyes… and a shift in atmosphere. your mind replayed moments back at zabaltazar’s flat, but at no point could you recall doing anything wrong, really!

“what are you talking about, clem?” you furrowed your brows, trying to compete against her furious expression… although there was an obvious dominant side and you were sinking into your place underneath her gaze.

her voice box let out, what you’ve come to known as, a robotic scoff. and the pixels on her screen half-circled to simulate rolling her eyes.

“don’t play dumb with me—you saw exactly how they were treating you… like they wanted you all to themselves.” clem leaned in and before you could object, she placed a cold finger on your bottom lip to shut you up.

“did you want that too? wanted my friends to all have their way with you?” her voice lowered and she moved her hand down from your mouth, pushing up your shirt to rest on your bare waist; you shuddered at her cold metal.

“of course not, clem! i’m yours!” you held her head in your palms, looking at her with the most sincere expression.

she smiled, but it wasn’t her usual soft upturn of blue pixels she’d normally do when you said something like that. her eyes half-lidded and it seemed more as though you amused her with what you said more than anything. and suddenly, you felt like unbeknownst prey to a hungry lion.

“i know, baby. that’s why i’m gonna have to make you remember that.”

the companion shoved her knee between your legs and you sharply gasped at the unexpected friction. your hands that cupped her facial frame went stiff and eventually moved down to her shoulders to keep yourself stable.

clementine used the hand that was on your waist to push your hips back and forth. each grind against her metal had you lightly panting and at some point you started bucking your hips yourself—completely forgetting how this even started.

“i’m sure those guys would kill to see you like this… it’s too bad they’re not here to do it themselves.” she pushed her knee further into your cunt and watched as your back arched away from the wall.

you shook your head, finding it hard to talk like this, and clementine tilted her screen to mock you, still with that entertained look. “no… m’only want you, clem..”

“is that right? didn’t seem that way when you were practically begging momo to keep touching you.” and with that remembrance, albeit a little over-exaggerated, clementine’s previous annoyance and anger returned.

with an idea laced with malice and spite, she pulled her knee away. hearing you whine, almost whimper, for a piece of her back was something to behold; it certainly sent a wave of electricity through her mainframe, hearing you so needy just for her.

she would never let her friends get a chance to hear it.

“wait—please, don’t stop.”

she shushed you, cupping your chin to look up at her. “you want me?” she quizzed, looking you up and down; god, you already looked a mess… and just from her knee?

you nodded a slightly too frantic ‘yes’ and clem dropped her hand from your face, “then tell me how bad you need me, hm?”

oh, so that’s what it was.

clementine was jealous.

you scolded yourself for not noticing it sooner, as obvious as it was.

your girlfriend felt threatened—she was never any good at sharing. and now you thought back to earlier, how pissed she must’ve been seeing the rest of her group give you so much attention; you wondered how badly she wanted to dismantle the whole party for the way they were treating you.

you could see it all now—her patience slowly dropping with each affectionate action you were given. and a picture of steam visibly wafting from her vents materialized in your mind.

a heat burning between your legs and a guilt for not taking in account clem’s feelings decided that you couldn’t deny her her request—not like you had much of a choice anyways.

your cheeks burned at the bot’s awaiting eyes and clementine reminded you just how badly you wanted her by sneaking a hand to the curve of your ass.

“god, i need you so bad, clem!” you rubbed your legs together, with a little hope she wouldn’t notice (oh, she noticed). “i need you to fuck me—i need you to fuck me like i’m only yours.”

you grabbed at her arm, positioning it to sit on your inner thigh. clementine looked at you as if you were the most pitiful thing there was, and by the desperation in your voice, you probably were.

“i don’t want those guys, baby—i want you… please.”

she squeezed your thigh, a satisfied look in her eyes. “jump up.” is all she said and you knew exactly what she wanted. you used her shoulders for support as you hopped up and hugged your legs around her torso. she held onto the flesh of your ass and set you on the kitchen counter.

“oh, pretty girl, m’ gonna **** you so dumb you’ll forget the names momo, doc, and ******* baltazar.”

and just like she promised, she wasted no time pushing aside your skirt and shoving down your panties. cold, metallic fingers already swiping your slit, ripping a guttural moan from your throat.

you made a compelling case, clementine didn’t hold her jealousy against you. but every time she thought back on your time at the flat, she couldn’t get the image of you being gushed over by her friends out of her head.

now she wished the outsiders were here, standing at the door of her apartment… watching with wide eyes as clementine fucks you so good, you’re chanting her name like a broken record.

“oh, ah! clem!”

yeah, just like that.

the image of you sopping wet on a wooden counter with your companion girlfriend’s fingers rubbing against your cunt was utterly obscene. your pretty, little panties hung at your feet and two arms looped around a robotic neck; clementine’s body situated between your legs to keep you wide open and you were overheating far more than her computer head could ever.

“god, you’re dripping—and just from me. just for me.” she whirled, which was almost like a robotic purr.

your legs were absolutely shaking and you couldn’t keep your mouth from being agape. eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed; there was a sheen of sweat glossing your skin, which clementine has always thought was pretty—like glass (she has no idea why humans do it).

she put a finger underneath your chin, guiding it up for you to face her. “look at me, baby.” she cooed, head tilted with those same lidded pixels and smile—though, she stared at you much more in adoration this time… with a little lace of self-pride.

you were hers, just hers. just her little crybaby with wet, fat tears in your eyes. just her’s to fuck.

and while the other outsiders probably stroked themselves to the thought of you hopped up on a table, crying for them—she got to actually see it.

just her.

clementine just stared at you for a moment, forcing you to stare right back. and she smiled a little wider at the sight of you so desperately trying to keep those little eyelids open for her—because she said to.

and then she stopped.

she stopped her movements, stopped her artificial thumb from circling your clit, stopped her two other fingers from keeping your pussy open.

oh, and you whined. whined at the loss of her.

that picture of her friends watching her fuck you returned. they would be mortified. mortified at seeing you being undone by someone who’s not them. they would beg for a chance to be the ones who make you cry like that.

and she would just glance at them, with a boastful smile.

she stayed like that for too many seconds, you thought. just watching you, watching you squirm to get back that contact.

and then, all at once, she stuffed her large fingers into your puffy cunt, seeing your face contort in pleasure. and she pumped them in and out and in and out.

you were sure her hand was just as wet as you were.

the hotboxed room was filled with lewd squelching noises, noises she wanted more of, and your moans and whimpers.

her’s, her’s, her’s.

not doc’s, not momo’s, not zabaltazar’s.

her’s—clementine’s.

“could momo **** you like this?” her voice box warbled, smothered in envy, selfishness.

“you think any of the other outsiders could make you fall apart like i can?”

oh, god, and how badly you were falling apart—like she broke you down brick by brick until you were nothing but puddy in her big, big hands.

she slightly smushed your cheeks; your sweet, pitiful face drenched in those hot tears.

could you even respond? your voice would definitely be gone the next morning.

“no, clem! o..only you!” you practically cried.

pixelized eyes full of possessiveness, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say she was smirking.

she laughed, a bitter and mocking laugh.

“that’s right, baby, only me.”

only clementine.

#MY READMORE THINGY IS BROKEN HELP #stray #stray game #stray 2022 #stray x reader #stray clementine #clementine stray #clementine x reader #stray clementine x reader #clementine stray x reader #x reader #reader insert #stray smut #robot #the outsiders #stray b12

[endlessgoldensky]

writing prompt thingyy... any ship or none whichever u feel like :) Like ponyboy at track and the gang or curly or who ever u decide is watching from afar because none of them really knew how good he was. Johnny/Curly or none think hes super cute out thereeee also living for the christmas look on your blog

Darry and Soda had seen him compete before mainly when their parents were still here. This was the first race they had seen in a while and both were excited. They knew how fast he could be and were sure that he’d win most if not all of his meets. The rest of the gang were not so sure. Two-Bit had seen him at practice a few times but he couldn’t remember if he had seen him win or even run. 

The whole gang was was seated in the top left corner of the bleachers, spilt between two benches. 

“Does the kid even know were here?” asked Dally leaning back back on his elbows. 

Darry shook his head, “It would throw him off if he did.”

The announcer came on a few seconds after and took about 20 minutes to get to through his speech. Finally, he announced the starting runners and directed them to get ready. The refs watched as the boys got into place.

One ref stuck am airhorn into the air and spoke loudly, “On your mark. Get set.”

He blew the air horn in place of yelling GO. 

The boys shot off leaving puffs of dirt behind them. 

The crowd whistled and cheered as they watched them run around and around. Lap after lap. 

A kid from a rival school came in first place and the only kid from the home turf came in second. 

Ponyboy’s first event was the fourth one overall and the whole gang was itching to see him run. He stood off to the side of the track stretching as he watched the rest of the athletes in the third event. 

“You know,” Two-Bit took a sip from the beer can he had smuggled in. “I coulda been an athlete myself.” He puffed out his chest and smiled, making the rest of them laugh.

Just then Pony’s event was announced. 

He took a deep breath and got into his position. Even though he had done this a hundred times before he could still feel some excitement flood through his body as he stared down the track. As soon as the air horn filled his ears he was off. 

He started off strong in second place but quickly made his way into first. He kept his head up and focused on the coming bend. He had learned to drown out the crowd after his first couple meets. The noise was too much distraction and once he had he kept coming in first and second place, making anything lower than that a rarity. Something his coach loved. 

“He sure is speedy.” Johnny remarked. 

“Like a horse.” 

Johnny looked up and saw Curly smirking down at him. 

“Care if I join ya?” He asked as he set his sunglasses atop his head. 

Johnny moved over to give Curly more than enough room. Curly sat down and rested his elbows on his knees. 

The crowd cheered louder than they were before as they all watched Pony finish in first place. Curly stood up and whistled, smirking again when he realized he caught Pony’s attention. Pony rolled his eyes and went off to the side again to wait for his next event.

“How come little Curtis doesn’t haven’t a chick, don’t they know how talented he is? Not to mention his looks” Curly looked at Johnny and cocked an eyebrow. 

Johnny shrugged

“Eh, they don’t what their missing.” 

Pony finished first in the rest of his events. 

As he walked off the filled with his track friends, the gang and Curly came bounding down to the fence. 

“Aye little Curtis! You looked great out there and those shorts compliment you well.” Curly winked as he rested his arms on the fence. 

“Oh piss off Shepard,” Pony replied as he shoved open the gate to let him and everyone else out. 

Curly threw up his hands in defense and laughed. 

Darry made his way over and put his arm Pony’s shoulders, “You did great out there kid.’ He gave him a squeeze as he finished speaking. 

“Uh, thanks Darry.” Pony replied awkwardly.

“Now if only you could run like that all the time.” Soda chimed as he put his arm around Pony from the other side just as the two began to walk, the others following behind. 

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #curly shepard #purly #purly lite #anon request #quick little fic #request came in a few Christmases ago lol #the gang #Sodapop Curtis #darry curtis #two bit mathews #Dallas Winston #Johnny Cade #steve randle #had the urge to write and landed on this

[bluerose5]

2, 5, 9, and 22 for whichever OTP you like 😊

From the OTP Relationship Asks. Probably not surprising to anyone, given my recent posts, but I'll go with Astarion & Zevran. Sorry in advance for this essay of a post. 😁

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to? Given that dnd lore consists of elves going into trances/meditative states rather than sleeping, I'd say that I still see Zevran taking on a more relaxed position during rest, preferring to curl up with blankets and pillows around him. I've seen quite a few posts that point out Astarion not even having a proper bedroll in his tent, so I think Astarion would have to grow accustomed to the idea that it's okay to be comfortable during that time. It's okay to let his guard down and be close to another, probably resulting in some eventual cuddles, but both of them are definitely the types to keep daggers hidden close at hand, no matter what. If they do get comfortable enough to spend their rests together, Zevran might need time to get used to the differences in body temperature. He strikes me as the type to get goosebumps at the slightest breeze and whine about it being freezing cold, so he'd start off in blanket burritos when they snuggle until he gets acclimated. Astarion feels a little guilty about it but tries not to linger on it too much because Zevran enjoys being close to him and he loves how warm Zevran is.

5. What is their love language? I know this might be a little predictable, since gifts were a thing for all companions in Origins, but I genuinely believe gift-giving/receiving would be Zevran’s love language. Items have power. They have practicality, but most importantly, they have meaning. I think it's especially telling that he tells you how sentimental items were taken from them in the Crows if found, including his mother's gloves, but he tries to show his appreciation to his LI by gifting them an earring he's kept for presumably years since his first kill. Plus, he even tells you he's never received a gift. To be given something special without expectation of anything in return...? I think he'd eat that up.

Astarion, on the other hand? I'm leaning towards words of affirmation. I feel like you see it a lot in the dark urge romance scenes, since a lot of what they're going through can be viewed as similar, depending on how you play. But I think he sees power in words, just as much as actions, even when those words are empty. However, once he gets to say words like "I love you" or "You're amazing" without having to do so for the sake of manipulation, he means it, and I think that he celebrates that he can express himself so openly and genuinely once he's free.

9. How are their personalities different? I had to think through this one a little more since it would be easier to say how they're alike, but I would say —going back to the previous post— Zevran has a stronger sense of sentimentality than Astarion at the moment. Zevran, in spite of what he was taught, forms strong attachments to things and ideas. He's not afraid to talk about his homesickness, for example, and what he misses from Antiva, good or bad. It could be said that this might be because Astarion hasn't simply had the chance to form those attachments over the centuries, given that all he was capable of doing was Cazador's bidding.

Also, I just see Zevran as being less concerned about appearances overall. Race, rank, title. None of that stuff concerns him much. No one is above dying at his blade, after all, and he seems pretty unimpressed when attending events among nobility that require acting on any type of ceremony or elevating one above others, such as the celebration at the end of Origins or even when you give Cailan a funeral pyre in the Return to Ostagar dlc.

Meanwhile, Astarion has a lot of ambition to the point where it weakens his sense of empathy in comparison, but that ambition is tangled up in a sense of survival. While Zevran isn't above speaking up for others like the Dalish or the mages if I remember correctly, when it's clear that a lot of innocents are set to die for the crimes of others, Astarion isn't above sacrificing others' free will or lives (such as when he suggests taking over the cult or killing the spawn to ascend) when it benefits him. But his "ambition" is merely a means of gaining power, so that he can exert that power in ways where others won't pose a threat to him. His approach to survival is very much at times, "If it doesn't affect me personally, then it's not my problem." Not saying he's entirely incapable of empathy, just that it's often lesser due to that mentality.

22. Who gets more easily embarrassed?

Oh, Astarion. Definitely. He's good at putting on his act of being unbothered, but there are definitely times when he seems to get caught off guard by stuff others say. I know there are times when Tav/Durge can say something silly or unhinged, and he scolds them even if teasingly. He also seems to get flustered when you take more genuine dialogue options when he fully expects shallow responses. Zevran, my beloved Zevran, just has so little shame, even beyond his defense/coping mechanisms. He says the craziest shit. First thing that comes to mind is him calling the urn of sacred ashes a vase or his infamous "children thrown at high speeds are dangerous" line. My man just has no fucks to give. He is here for a good time, and he speaks his mind. It'll take a lot to embarrass him. 😆

#dragon age #bg3 #zevran #astarion #zevstarion #crossover ship #bluerose answers #bluerose rambles

[the-canary]

high ground [vash the stampede] .05.

Summary: Snippets of the little moments in between the chaos of traveling with one Humanoid Typhoon. [Vash/Reader]

prompt: library

A/N: Practice for the larger series I have in mind and practice on how to write Vash’s character, so this will be on the short end. First one leaning more towards Stamp Vash. 

“Hey Vash, have you ever seen a library?” 

“A what?”

“A library! A huge room filled with a handful of books.”

Vash doesn’t know why that memory is the first one that comes to mind when he comes back to Ship 3. Home. He should be thinking about greeting Luida and Bradd, to see how all the children have grown and all the stories they will have to tell him since he had last seen them all. He shouldn’t be thinking about the young woman that he had left behind in a dark hotel room, on her own to recover over the injuries that had been his fault. They both understood the danger that came with traveling with him, but she has been curious and Vash has been oh so lonely. 

Three shots to her shoulder and abdomen had reminded him why it had been a bad idea in the first place. It was a cowardly thing to do, to leave her like that, but Vash was a coward in the worst way if it meant keeping other people safe. Thus, he returned to Ship 3 and decided to lay low for a while. She would never be able to find him and he would kill the desire to seek her out once more. 

“Hey Vash,” Luida’s words break Vash out of his thoughts, as he turns to stare at her, “Is there something on your mind? You seem more lost in thought than usual.” 

“No,” he remarks with a smile, “I’ve just been thinking about how much the children have been growing since the last time I saw them. Most of them will be starting school once more. It never seems to get old, watching them learning and growing up.”

“I know, it’s really amazing the technology to help with that has been running for so long now,” Luida continues, “It’s hard to imagine that we used to write and read everything on paper until everything was standardized and became digital for us to use.” 

Vash nods, though he had heard this story many times before. Humanity with its technology and environmental issues that came with the latter years of Rem living on Earth moved to having everything digitally saved in order for it to be maneuvered easily and kept aboard the SEEDS ships. There were books here and there --Nai tended to read from whichever ones he had within reach-- on the ships, but those were from someone’s personal collection or the handful that were deemed important and placed securely on the ship, but those were all gone now too. Both of these things had been lost after the Fall, but humanity still struggled to learn like a woman who had probably never seen a book, still dreamed and wondered what a library looked like. 

“There he goes again, lost in his thoughts,” Luida laughs. Vash sputters an excuse while shaking his head. She calms him down before teasing him in a motherly fashion. 

“So, what or who is curling around in that head of yours, Vash?”

Vash lets out a choked embarrassed noise as Luida keeps laughing, but that stops when he lets out a sigh and looks away wistfully. Luida doesn’t get her answer for now. Once Vash has finished for the day, he lets himself get lost in the memories he doesn’t want to share with anyone else at that moment. 

“Why did that word suddenly come into your mind?”

“I don’t really know,” she looks at him with a soft smile, “There are so many things that just bubble up into my mind about what we have lost, what we are still trying to gain…just looking at you makes me want to learn more about them all.” 

She laughs as Vash turns away to hide how red his face becomes at the possible connotation of it all -- that she wants to learn more about the past, and maybe about him as well. 

Vash ends up falling asleep with the smell of familiar old pages surrounding him and that echoing laughter that doesn’t leave his mind for days. 

#vash x you #vash x reader #vash the stampede #trigun #trigun fanfic #fabiola trying to write #series: high ground

[gorbalsvampire]

dug up that vtm character questions list from my likes so here's some for you! essentials 7, life 5 and death 5 for sorcha and allistair!

Father And Daughter Information Sharing Time

Which Disciplines do they possess, and which do they favor using?

Sorcha has Oblivion and Thin-Blood Alchemy, both low level at the moment. She favours the power combo of both - she's using her Alchemy to bootstrap quick-application versions of Necromantic Ceremonies, so she can raise a corpse without having to faff around in the moment, and incidentally unlock Ceremonies for which she doesn't technically have the prerequisite powers. Her long term goal is to "jailbreak" the entire Discipline (one day she's gonna call in a favour from @hazelenergy 'cause she needs Hazel's nascent shadow-fu for that). You can't be the greatest necromancer of your generation if you can't do everything.

Alistair has Fortitude 3, Auspex 2, Oblivion 1 and Dominate 1. Fortitude has been his go-to for the longest time: he survived as a fledgling ambassador to a Camarilla court by having an absolutely impenetrable mind, impressive Willpower plus his precocious mental Fortitude. Since he was set up as a Baron he's found more and more value in Auspex - he has Premonition and Fatal Precognition 'cause he hates being surprised. Oblivion and Dominate are his practical Disciplines: he can make bodies go away (or tidy themselves away), and tell someone to shut up, fuck off and jump in the Clyde, and that's all he needs.

What were they most afraid of in life? How has this changed?

Sorcha was afraid of being abandoned - she was thirteen before she met her father, when she was abruptly sent to Scotland and had to adapt very quickly. This hasn't gone away. Alistair saved her when she died, but within six months he'd sent her away "for her own protection" and she'd run away instead and got into all sorts of trouble and ugh.

Alistair is afraid of... well, he's enraged by the thought of Sorcha coming to harm again, he's still furious that she died so young and came out so... thin. The thing he's afraid of, though, is irrelevance. Powerlessness. Not being able to sort things out. This is why he's with the Anarchs now: the man is a political weathercock, he'll spin whichever way the wind is blowing as long as it keeps him at the heart of affairs. It comes from his jail time in life - the second sentence was for inciting a riot and then leading a prison mutiny, trying to do direct and aggressive action and having it blow up in his face and leave him in solitary confinement for five years.

Which of their Clan’s stereotypes apply to them? Which do they act against, or embody the opposite of?

Let's get the incest out of the way. They haven't. They wouldn't (well, Sorcha might...). But they are. Alistair and Sorcha are horrendously codependent, obsessed with each other's survival and success and status. Emotionally and politically, if not sexually, they are into each other and they lean into that because they know it freaks people out. It's a bit they do with an awfully sincere foundation.

Beyond that, there's the whole Dunsirn thing. Dunsirn aren't traditionally obsessed with necromancy, they're the Money Guys, but Sorcha grew up in Venice with a Rossellini nanny and a genius brain. She's been groomed since birth to be someone's idea of a perfect Giovanni girlfriend. There's a further tension with her thinblood identity: Sorcha is Hecata to her bones but she's Duskborn in her heart and veins, and she's determined to walk the line and be both, somehow, anyhow.

Finally, there's the isolationism. Sorcha aggressively makes friends in other clans and sects, she wants to know everything that might be useful one day. Alistair is abrasively diplomatic, inserting himself into the prevailing social scene of whatever sect runs his city, a fixer and a mover and a shaker. These two are never going to hole up and be Wraith: the Oblivion antagonists while everyone else is playing Eternal Struggle. They're going to play your game and win it because they're best.

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #oc: sorcha dunsirn #oc: alistair dunsirn #clan giovanni #hecata #thanks for asking! #thank you so much I love talking about these two idiots

[aerynwrites]

okay here are some holiday prompts for you! :3

•getting cold and jayce warms up your hands

•making snow angels (with either of them)

•making christmas cookies and/or hot chocolate(with either of them)

you don’t have to do all of these ofc, just whichever one piques your interest!

Ahhh thank you for these adorable ideas Jams!! I had to go with Jayce warming up your hands Bc just…yes.

Hope you enjoy!

Baby it’s Cold Outside

Jayce x GN!Reader

Word count: 674

Warnings: none

You’ve always loved winter and the holiday season that comes with it.

The lights and the holiday markets, cookies, hot chocolate, a roaring fire in the hearth. You love it all.

The fire is what sounds the most appealing right now though.

It’s the opening night of the winter market in Piltover, and Jayce had surprised you with dinner and a night at the market to follow.

Despite both of you donning thick coats, scarves and even gloves, the temperature drops much faster and harsher than you had hoped. A fact Jayce is none the wiser to as you both walked down the aisles of tents.

He is practically a walking furnace, never cold no matter what, it seems like. You on the other hand…your fingers feel like icicles and despite your best efforts to hide your shivers until you get to the hot chocolate stand, Jayce takes notice.

Shoulders tucked up to your ears subconsciously, you aren’t paying attention when he calls your name the first time, only giving him your attention when a leather clad hand slides down your arm.

“Hey, wait.” His gentle plea stops you in your tracks, and this time you can’t suppress the full body shiver that rocks you.

Jayce’s brows pull together tightly and he immediately starts reaching for his hat, tugging it from his head.

“Babe, why didn’t you tell me you were cold?” He chastises gently, tugging his toboggan over your head and settling the warm wool over your ears.

“Be-because I’m not c-cold!” You try to argue, cursing your shivering.

Jayce just shakes his head, lips tugging upwards slightly. “Your shivering would say otherwise,” he points out. “Here.”

Before you can stop him he’s tugging his gloves off and reaching for your own which are tucked away in your pockets. You offer them willingly, smiling when he tugs your gloves off and immediately envelopes your chilled hands in his own much warmer ones.

The sigh you let out is involuntary and makes Jayce laugh, eyes sparkling.

“Told you.”

You scoff, stepping closer to him in a conscious effort to share in more of his warmth.

“Well I’m sorry I’m not a walking furnace like you are,” you tease, looking up at him from where you lean against his chest.

Jayce simply brings your hands up, pressing a quick kiss to both before wrapping them up again.

“You should have told me you were cold. We could have gone back home,” he says gently.

You shake your head. “I thought I could make it to the hot coco cart.” You admit sheepishly. “And plus…I like spending time with you. I don’t want to go home yet.”

At your confession, Jayce smiles. That bright award winning smile you’ve loved from day one.

“How do you do that?” He asks, shaking his head as he releases your hands just long enough to retrieve his gloves he had tucked away in his jacket.

You look up at him again, confusion tugging at your brows as he slowly tugs his gloves onto your hands, still warm from his own.

“Do what?”

Still smiling he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away just enough to wrap his arms around your waist.

“Make me love you so much?”

If you were cold before, Jayce’s words chase away any remaining chill. Warmth spreads from your chest right down to your fingertips as he gazes down at you.

You shake your head, nuzzling into his chest to hide your now burning face.

“I don’t know. The same way you make me love you, I guess.”

You feel him press another kiss to the top of your head, the sensation muted by the toboggan but still butterfly enduring all the same.

“Let’s go get some hot chocolate,” he says, nudging you away only to lead you towards the vendor cart.

You simply nod, smiling up at him as you both make your way through the market once more.

This time, hand in hand and much warmer than before.

#jayce talis x reader #jayce talis #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane jayce #holiday prompts 22 #holiday 2022 #ask box #request

[hphmmatthewluther]

The Phantom Woes of Matthew Luther: Part 1

It’s time, at last! This story features:

Verna Malinda ( @gaygryffindorgal​ ) Camille Jeanes ( @camillejeaneshphm​ ) Rosie Mayfield ( @magicapandora​ )

As well as characters from:

@stupendousbookworm​ @catohphm​ @nelabelievesindragons​ @endlessly-cursed​

The Phantom Woes of Matthew Luther

 “Matthew Luther hasn’t come out of Ravenclaw Common Room at all recently, and his friends and quidditch teammates are starting to worry. With the help of the Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts, can you find out what’s happened to both Matthew and Helena Ravenclaw without being spirited away yourself?”

 Part 1/4 : Bring the Boy Back Home

 To think the weekend had started out so normally. Just like always, a smallish crowd of students had gathered at the Quidditch Stadium to watch whichever team had managed to book a spot first practice for their upcoming matches. Today, it was the blue-clad Ravenclaw team who had taken to the air, under the ever-watchful eye of captain Orion Amari. But Eagle-Eyed watchers might have noticed that there was one less player out on (or rather, above) the pitch. The first to notice was, naturally enough, a quidditch player herself. Verna Malinda, fifth-year Gryffindor and chaser for her house’s team, frowned at the players overhead. She saw the seeker, the beaters and the keeper, who she recognised as Ara Black. However, only two chasers were in play, the captain, and Skye Parkin…so that begged the question:

 “Where’s Mathieu?” came a hushed voice from behind Verna. Turning around, she saw the worried face of Camille Jeanes, one of her dormmates. She too was looking up and frowning, but more nervous than perplexed.

“You noticed too, then?” Verna asked, causing Camille to jump in her seat.

“Eep! V-Verna, sorry, didn’t see you there…” she began, taking a second to calm down. “What were you saying?”

“You noticed that Luther isn’t up there practising.” Verna explained, leaning back on the bench. “You’re pretty close with him, know what’s wrong?”

Camille shook her head. “He wasn’t at breakfast either…I’m worried…”

Verna nodded, frowning. “I’m sure it’s nothing too bad. Maybe he’s got the flu. Or overslept.”

 Just then, Andre Egwu, Ravenclaw’s seeker, slowed down overhead, talking to Orion before descending. Verna listened intently, and picked up part of the conversation

“-might be able to help with Curse-Breaker-”

Curse-Breaker, the two thought. One look between them and they both knew. Andre’s nickname for none other than Matthew Luther.

“Come on, let’s see what he’s up to.” Verna said, a sudden determination in her eyes.

“Really?” Camille asked, following her out of the quidditch stands, “I wouldn’t want to be worrying over nothing…though I do that a lot…”

Verna chuckled. “You sound a fair bit like Matthew, no wonder you two get along so well.”

 They headed down through the stands, watching as Andre appeared, placing his broom to the side. He watched as someone else came up to the stadium. They were wearing a fully pink/white ensemble: pink heels, patterned pink-and-white skirt, a fluffy pink jacket that stopped at their waist, and a thin white scarf. Unfortunately for Verna and Camille, while Andre hadn’t noticed them, the person in pink most certainly had.

 “Hey guys!” Rosie Mayfield said, waving and smiling brightly. Andre twisted around and blinked in surprise at the two, who had gone as red as their house colours at being found out. “You here about Matty too?” they asked.

Camille opened her mouth and closed it a few times, but it was Verna who finally spoke up. “Y-Yeah…” she said, moving ever-so-slightly closer, “we…saw he’s not at practice.”

Andre sighed, nodding in confirmation. “Yeah. I was only asking Rosie to see if they knew anything I didn’t…you two haven’t seen him recently then?”

The question seemed more directed at Camille, which Verna supposed was fair. Everyone knew those two were like brother and sister. Millie and Matt, an inseparable duo.

 Camille shook her head. “No, that’s why I was here, I was hoping I’d see him, but…” she trailed off, looking like she was about to cry. Rosie placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s ok, Millie.” They said, “It’s not like we don’t know where he is, since Andre’s in the same dorm with him, so…” they turned to look at him, gesturing at Camille.

“Right! Sorry, yes, darling, it’s ok, Matt’s up in Ravenclaw Tower, in his dormitory…” his smile faded slightly, “...which is the problem.”

Millie sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Wh…what do you mean?”

 Before Andre could say anymore, one of the reserve Chasers and Orion Amari appeared.

“Hey! We need you on the pitch!” the other Chaser said. Andre groaned.

“Sorry, I was-”

“It is quite alright, Andre.” Orion said, sighing, “You have done what you can for Matthew. It’s out of your hands for now, and so we must now prepare for our next role in these events.”

 Andre nodded, slightly confused by his captain’s words, but said his goodbyes to the others and followed the reserve chaser out from the stands. Orion turned to follow them, but briefly turned back.

“All of Ravenclaw House is worried about what’s happened. You will need to talk to them to continue on the path you’ve chosen.” he said matter-of-factly.

“That…doesn’t make any sense.” Camille said, very much confused.

Orion just smiled. “Has the path chosen by Matthew Luther ever made sense?”

Verna clicked her tongue. Orion was being even more opaque and cryptic than usual. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Captain!” the reserve chaser yelled. Orion remained unfazed, waved to the three, and left.

 ***

It wasn’t until lunchtime that day that Camille, Rosie and Verna were finally able to talk to the Ravenclaws.

“Did either of you know what Andre was going on about?” Verna said, stepping into the Great Hall, “stuff about “paths” and that.”

Camille shrugged. “I don’t know…sorry.”

Rosie pondered this. “Maybe…maybe he’s asking us to do something about this? He doesn’t seem to think anyone else can.”

They came up to the Ravenclaw tower, where most people were reading while eating, taking care not to leave any crumbs on the pages of their books. Camille scanned the table. She saw Cato Reese eating a sandwich and reading a book on Charms, Coraline Wytte passing the water jug to Isabelle Dubois, but no sign of Matthew Luther.

 At that moment, Rosie decided to take the initiative and actually ask someone. They walked over to where Tulip was and smiled.

“Oh, hey guys!” she began, “Mind if I ask you guys some things? It’d be a real big help!” Camille and Verna watched in awe as Rosie worked their magic, Camille noticing one of the other students next to Tulip going bright pink at how near he was to them. Before long, Rosie beckoned the others over. “Ok…so, what’s up with Matty?”

 Tulip looked up at them, looking unsure where to begin. “Matthew Luther’s been up in Ravenclaw Tower for a while. None of us thought much of it at first, sometimes he needs a bit of alone time, but this is…definitely the longest he’s been like this. Normally Helena Ravenclaw’s able to convince him to talk to someone about it by now…”

The three non-Ravenclaws looked slightly confused. “Helena?”

Tulip rolled her eyes. “You know…the Grey Lady. The Ravenclaw ghost?” At last, they nodded in understanding. “Well, yeah. Matthew Luther and her are pretty close. The amount of times he’s accidentally called her mum, honestly…”

 Camille suddenly looked rather annoyed. “What’s so wrong with that, exactly?” she said a little louder than she expected.

“...Nothing, Camille Jeanes.” Tulip replied, looking rather guilty. “But…yeah, that’s what’s happened. The problem is of course that it’s not like it was back in year 2. He’s got prefect duties and that quidditch match is coming up. Matthew Luther can’t afford to be up in his room like that.”

The boy who had gone bright pink, and seemed unable to meet Rosie’s eyes, finally spoke up. “Y-you could um…try going to see him yourselves…”

 Verna considered all of this. She knew that if she flaked on her duties as both chaser and prefect, it would really mess things up. Something had to be happening with Matt. Something more than a sulk.  “That’d be nice, but we’re not exactly allowed in other house dorms, are we?”

The boy continued. “Actually, um…there’s no rule like that for Ravenclaw. If you can get past the riddle you’re allowed in.”

 Rosie grinned. “That’s it! That’s what we’ll do!” they declared, smiling at the boy. “Thanks so much for letting us know, um…”

“...V-Victor.” he said, scratching under his jumper’s turtleneck.

“Victor! You’re the best! I owe ya one!” They said, winking, before turning to the others. “Right! Shall we?”

Camille nodded, looking slightly more determined than before. “We’ve got a path ahead of us, um…it would seem.”

 Verna chuckled. “Yeah, there’s something about all this…best to figure out what the hell’s going on.”

Rosie brought their hands together excitedly. “That’s the spirit! Let’s wolf down our lunch and head on up there!”. The three did just that, and as they left passed by the quidditch team as they left the Great Hall, Andre giving them a silent thank-you, Orion nodding at them knowingly, and that reserve chaser not even acknowledging them. Camille looked behind her and saw him staring back at them, scowling.

 ***

Their journey up to Ravenclaw Tower was quiet for the most part, with most people eating lunch in the Great Hall, but they stopped in their tracks when they got close to the entrance of the Tower.

“Hear that?” Verna asked, glancing to and fro. It sounded like stomping and yelling coming from up ahead. The three drew their wands in preparation.

“What could it be…?” Camille wondered aloud. She was sure she recognised that voice, but it was muffled by the castle walls so she couldn’t fully make it out. When they opened the next door, they saw the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, made of dark oak wood with a bronze eagle statue as a door knocker. A few feet away, looking rather like a caged tiger with a toothache, was none other than Merula Snyde.

 “Stupid door!” she hissed, “that’s barely even a riddle!”

The bronze eagle looked at her, expressionless. “Is that your final answer?”

“Of course not you damn fool! Just let me-” she would have most likely kept ranting if it weren’t for her noticing Verna (who rolled her eyes in exasperation), Camille (who looked almost angry that she was here) and Rosie (who was holding in a laugh).

“...Malinda? Jeanes? Mayfield?” Merula said, her confusion causing her to calm down. “What in the name of Merlin are you doing here?”

 Verna crossed her arms. “We could ask you the same thing.” Camille repeated the gesture. Rosie, however, seemed to know her reason for being here already.

“Aw, were you worried about Matt?” Rosie asked, trying not to smirk. “That’s so sweet…” Verna looked at them, confused, as Millie began to understand. Merula went pink in the face.

“Shut up! It’s not like that!” she snapped. “I was just…well…I have prefect duty with him, see…”

Rosie was bouncing on their toes at this point. “Eee! You have prefect duty together! That’s the cutest thing ever!”

 Camille, too, was beginning to smile. “Aw, ‘rula, you should have said-”

“Do not test me, Jeanes…”

Verna, meanwhile, was still slightly confused. “Wait…are they-” Come to think of it, they had gone to the Celestial Ball together, and had dinner at Madam Puddifoot once, and were often seen talking to each other a lot more than rivals usually did-

“Oh wow.” Verna said finally, “You sure know how to pick ‘em, don’t you Snyde-”

“What is that supposed to mean?!-”

At that moment, the Eagle cleared its bronze throat. “Do you have an answer to my riddle?”

 The four looked at each other. “Can we hear it first, pretty please?” Rosie asked, still smiling at Merula, who was fiddling with the strap of her satchel, staring at the floor.

The eagle nodded, and began to recite:

“What can go around the wood but never go inside the wood?”

There was a brief silence as they thought it over. Verna was the first to think aloud. “Around the wood…but not inside…what sort of…”

Rosie frowned. “Ugh, riddles are the worst sometimes.”

Merula nodded. “Luther told me that half the time the answer on the door is just “a river”, but I have a feeling that’s not it this time…”

“Could it be?” “No, you’re barking up the wrong tree there.”

 Camille looked up. “Of course! Um, I think I might have it…maybe…”

Rosie squealed in joy. “You do?!” Merula, too, had a smile on her face. “Say it! Go on!”

“O-Ok, um…” Camille turned to face the bronze eagle. “What goes around the wood but never inside the wood…the bark of a tree!...right?”

There was a brief nothing, which was full of all the fear in the world for Camille, but it passed, and the door creaked open.

 “YES!” Verna yelled, punching the air. “Nice one, Millie!” Rosie cheered, and Camille felt a little shell-shocked. “I…I did it!”

Even Merula was grinning in relief. “You sure did! You’re not just a pretty face, huh?”

 Before Camille could respond to that, Merula rushed into the Common Room. “Let’s go!” Rosie exclaimed, the three following after the Slytherin Prefect, past several shelves of books and up several staircases until they came to the boy’s dormitory.

 Most of the doors had been opened by the students leaving that morning, and only one remained shut. Merula was staring at it, playing with her satchel’s straps again.

“Well? Gonna knock?” Rosie asked, gesturing to the door.

“Of course! I just…” she said, trailing off. Seemingly understanding, Verna stepped forward and knocked thrice. “H-Hey! Matthew?! I-It’s us!”

“Mathieu? You ok?”

“Luther, what’s happening in there?”

“It’s alright Matty, we’re here to help!”

 There was the sound of shuffling from inside the dormitory.

Merula was quickly losing patience, but it was more out of worry than anything else. “Alright, that does it! Hope you’re decent, Luther! Alohomora!”

There was a clack, and the door started opening. The shuffling inside intensified, before there was a thump noise. The group entered the room and, half-on half-off of the furthest bed, was a tall boy with green eyes, pyjama trousers, a dressing gown, and an incredibly serious case of bed hair. Verna would later say of it that it looked more like a hedgehog than Merula’s hair normally did.

 Matthew Luther seemed frozen in fear, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times. The fear seemed to morph into what could only be described as shame as he nervously spun his silver bracelet around his wrist. “...H-Hey guys…I-...I’m sorry, I…”

Camille sighed, looking him up and down “Oh, Mathieu…”

“There’s no need to apologise.” Rosie reassured him, “We just wanted to check up on you.”

Verna nodded in agreement. “Yeah, no need to worry, really.” Merula, meanwhile, walked across the dormitory so she was standing right in front of him.

 “...You look terrible.” Merula said, smiling in spite of herself. “That…wasn’t a good way to start, um-”

“N-No, it’s ok…not like you’re wrong, is it…” Matthew said, shrugging “I um…don’t you guys have lessons?”

“Luther, it’s Saturday.”

“It is?! Oh, thank god, I thought I’d been in bed for the whole weekend…”

“Wait, you thought it was Monday?”

“Well, yeah, and I thought I’d overslept for Charms, and that really made me feel bad, and…yeah.”

The three others watched, slightly gobsmacked. “It’s like they’ve forgotten we’re here, isn’t it?” Verna whispered.

Camille nodded. “He definitely seems to have brightened up quickly…but that’s a good thing, right?”

Rosie finally cleared their throat when it looked like Merula was about to try flattening his hair down with her hand. “Sorry, it’s just…well, we were wondering how we could help.”

Camille nodded. “Mm, we’d like to see you around again, Mathieu.”

 Matthew sighed, sitting down on his bed. “Y-Yeah, I just…” he sniffed, trying to steady himself. “It’s…about Helena. She’s…gone.”

The four looked at each other. “When you say…gone…” Verna began, scratching her temple.

“I don’t know what’s happened. She’s nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere for her…she’s…I don’t know if she’s left…or…she’s…something’s happened to her…or she…a…ab-...”

Merula placed her hand on his shoulder. “You thought she’d abandoned you.”

Matthew nodded. “I know she’d never, but…that fear that she had…that I didn’t have her anymore because of something I did…”

 Verna sighed. “A missing ghost…” she wondered what it’d be like if Nearly Headless Nick went missing. Slightly more quiet feasts, but definitely an outcry to find out just what had happened.

Rosie sat down on the other side of Matt (Merula was on the other side, her hand still firmly on his shoulder) “Ok…tell you what. You want to find out what’s happened with Helena, right?” When Matthew nodded, they continued, “So: we can help you find out what’s happened with Helena, but you gotta help us, and help yourself, by getting out of this dorm again. Does that sound doable?” they asked, no form of belittling or patronising present in their voice. Matthew looked at Merula, smiled, before turning back to Rosie.

“A-Alright. I’ll try. Promise.”

 “That’s all we ask.” They replied, getting up. “Ok! First off, let’s get you some actual clothes…”

Merula rolled her eyes, “We’ll be here a while, then…” she whispered.

Camille smiled at Matt, happy to see her baby brother again, while Verna peered out the window. Though it was daytime, the moon hovered in the sky above the quidditch grounds, tinted blue as the sun shone overhead. She wondered silently just what she’d gotten herself into as Rosie came in with multiple sets of clothes for Matthew to choose from, insisting that he could do with more designer clothes in his wardrobe.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #100 followers!!! #matthew luther #verna malinda #camille jeanes #rosie mayfield #cato reese #coraline wytte #isabelle dubois #ara black #merula snyde #hphm fic #the phantom woes of matthew luther

[andnatiabrosca]

hi Birch! how bout essentials 7, party 4, codex 10 for Nat and Malachite? :>

Essentials 7: How do they dress in their downtime, while fighting, in formal situations, etc.?

so Nat and Malachite both tend towards really practical downtime clothing, but from slightly different angles. Nat always wears something that can easily have armor thrown on, because she might always have to fight (or, later, have to do some paragon shit for orzammar). she does prefer more feminine clothing, especially when she's pregnant/after having her baby. Malachite's downtime clothing isn't designed to easily throw armor on - it's made to both impress people around skyhold, but also allow her to get her 10 daily miles of running around her fortress done.

it's also of note that, as a rogue vs warrior, what armor they may be throwing on differs significantly (need to research more about armor to make definitive statements). what I can say - Nat tends to have well-made but generic armor, whereas Malachite wears well-made Inquisition armor. If you looked, you could find blue tied into Nat's armor; it would be impossible to miss the green and symbols emblazoned on Mal's.

formally, I know Nat will incorporate armor, and both of them will visibly carry a weapon (just Dwarva things). Nat will lean to whichever identity is most important at the time - Warden vs Paragon vs Hero and adjust her dress. I have a standing headcanon of dwarven hairstyling to denote caste...should get that properly finished out sometime. (I think Mal generally just lets Josie dress her for formal situations. Easy way to keep the girlfriend happy and less for Mal to focus on.)

I might reblog this later with some reference photos or sketches, but that is not for right now.

Party 4: Are there any companions or advisors they don't get along with? Have any of them ever left the party?

(I think this is really a reflection of how I find the companions - I like all of DAO, but DAI are harder to connect to for me. That said, Malachite and I have entirely different perspectives on a lot of her crew.)

Nat - eh no. She and Wynne argue and she doesn't like Oghren much but they all get on okay enough and no one ever leaves lolol. Oghren won't leave her alone, to her absolute frustration.

Mal - She went Templar, so she and Cullen aren't on much of speaking terms atm. They didn't get on well early on either, but it's definitely getting worse. Exactly the kind of disconnect you want in your army, right? She's starting to be better friends with Viv, but the first year they were at eachothers throats. Leliana freaks her out (had a crisis of faith at Mal and Mal didn't talk to her for a year). Cassandra. If Mal could have made the Breach swallow Cass, well. I think Cole might end up leaving? I'm not sure where we are on approval right now, but they are just not getting on.

Mal wants so badly to get on with Sera but they are so at odds it's hilarious.

(Bonus round, the shopkeep who argues with Dagna? Whose name I have never read? She hates him and he hates her and that is just the way it is.)

Codex 10: Are there any animals they have a particular love or hatred for?

Nat loves squirrels!! I make the executive decision that Fereldan has squirrels! She also loves nugs. She would never eat a mabari, but every other animal is free range. I think she's Not A Fan of cats after waking Shale.

Malachite hates rams. Malachite is not a fan of most animals, actually. She and Bull really agree on dragons, though. Too bad Mal doesn't swing his way. I think she could manage a pet for Josie's sake, but would never live with one of her own volition.

#birch answers #layalu #oc: nat brosca #oc: malachite cadash