#*disgruntled goth noises*

[97keanu]

"ⁱ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵃⁿʸᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵉˡˢᵉ

ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ

ⁱ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ"

Neo x Goth!Reader (prematrix AU)

Premise: In chapter three, you are dealing with Neo's inability to admit his feelings toward you, and how he's resorted to cyber stalking you by hacking your webcam. Neo realizes he cannot escape your allure, and the heatwave of '99 comes to a breaking point in Chicago.

Tags/CW: slow burn, smut, p in v referenced, longing, themes of loneliness, themes of depression, themes of anxiety, angst, drama, neo ghosts you, neo tries to keep things professional, loser!neo, pathetic!neo, hacker boyfriend!neo, takes place before the events of the matrix, stalking, watching through webcam, age difference, panty thief strikes again, mutual self pleasure, whiny neo, more slightly subby neo, angel/siren coded reader, neo cannot resist you.

Authors Note: a shorter chapter, mainly smutty fun with a dash of both characters inner feelings. I'm glad to feel inspired to write these two again. Read the first chapter here.

Words: 2.4k

A hot breeze flows in through your apartment window, and for a moment you wonder if this heatwave will ever break. August is droning on, not ready just yet to give out a final death rattle. Instead, it grips Chicago tightly in a humid warmth that has been suffocating, clouds threatening to rain but never delivering. You lie almost naked amongst your black bedding, a plushie here and there, staring up at the ceiling fan and wishing it brought you any salvation in your time of need. 

It doesn't help that you are also thinking about Neo. More specifically, the last time you really saw each other. You thought maybe something more than an alliance between two hackers could have been budding when he fell asleep on your couch, but in the morning you awoke to only the scattered couch pillows. 

He didn't even contact you for a week. Eventually, you heard that awaited notification noise, but it was disappointing to say the least. Neo had messaged you, but it was simply to ask if you could help with making sure he was good to hack into this or that, you really hardly cared for what the details were. The anger and hurt inside of you from being asked to be his digital guardian angel after how he treated you could rival the August heat outside. 

Still, you complied. You had thought about telling him to go fuck himself, that you no longer wished to interact ever again, but what good would that do? It's not like either of you ever agreed to something more than a work based relationship. And what makes it worse is that deep down, you know how lonely the world has begun to feel. Even now, as you roll over in sweat drenched sheets, looking out to the skyline that stretches ever farther and farther, you know that despite all the inhabitants of this city, you have never felt more alone. 

That fact alone was enough for you to do what Neo had asked, wanting to still be in contact with someone who may understand. Although he had ran from you, hidden away and obviously too frightened to ask to meet up again, you think the reason for all of that may be that Neo is lonely too. You have no evidence for this of course, but you could almost sense it from him. That something that burns low, almost burning out, inside both of you, seemed to speak without words when you met. And now all you can do is try to get your mind off it. 

Tired of the thoughts running through your head, you huff, sitting up quickly and disgruntled with how much you've been laying about lately. You make the great task of getting out of bed and find yourself before your floor length mirror in your bedroom. What you see makes you frown. 

Your hair is a mess, after having not showered, your makeup is still on from last night. The black eye shadow and mascara have moved, now cascading down your cheeks in smudges. You look at your usually well kept nails, now riddled with chipped black nail polish from you don't remember when. You can't let it get to you like this any longer. You head for the shower, hoping to both cool off the summer heat, and the heat that this Neo situation has gotten you into. 

✧

The small fan at Neo's desk moves side to shuttering side, attempting in vain to keep the small room and its only occupant cooled. Neo sits at his desk, head in one hand, eyes fatigued and tired, trying to fix the script for one of his latest codes. 

He's been throwing himself into his work to forget about you. He hates that he got so worked up over you, that he was such a loser to even steal a pair of your panties upon his first time at your apartment. There was no way you deserved someone like him. Not to mention, that you should probably find someone around your own age, not someone like Neo, who at best is a shut-in who can't socialize, and at worst, well, to keep the depression at bay he might as well not say. 

To keep this relationship between the two of you professional, he has spent the last two weeks since you two met attempting only to contact you for jobs. It was what was right, the older, more adult thing to do, instead of pursuing a young 20-something goth girl like you because he has a kink for black lipstick. 

Still, he had a hard time keeping himself from you. He can hardly even admit it to himself, but he's been hacking your webcam. He starts by telling himself that he just needs to check up on you, especially when you leave his messages on read for hours, although he knows he deserves that after how he disappeared. It's innocent really, he will tell himself, that you need to be checked up on, that it's  only to turn on the camera for a second to make sure nothing happened. It is, after all, dangerous work you two do. 

Then, it somehow turns to leaving the camera on, letting your image sit beside him on one of the many computers at his desk. It's nice, having you there, so close to your computer. You're probably working on the codes he sends you, or perhaps messaging friends, he hears a voice somewhere deep inside tell him to check out those messages as well, but he hasn't brought himself to that quite yet. No, you're simply a video on his screen, almost like watching a movie, or having someone in a cafe sitting next to him, quietly working on their own thing. 

He even finds that he likes the music you play, he can't help but be interested to find out more about you in this way. He wishes he could ask you which Siouxie and The Banshee's songs are your favorite off the album, or if you had to choose, would you pick The Smiths or The Cure. It's these little questions about you that plague his mind all day when he watches you. Sure, he could simply ask you these things, but that would be both suspicious as well as violating the self appointed rule of making this a work only relationship. 

Neo sighs out, the heat and these thoughts getting to his head. His fist curls in his short black hair for a moment before he stands from his desk and stalks away quickly. He told himself he wouldn't watch you today, he would lay off that sort of thing, but the need to know is eating at him, and you make it so easy for him, having nothing to block his attempts to hack your webcam. If he were the adult he seems to think himself into being, then he would simply stop, or better yet tell you to up your cyber security. 

But no, deep down, Neo knows. He knows he's weak for you. He knows he's looked through all the photos you've taken of yourself on your computer to post to this or that goth forum. He's looked at them, entranced by how bold you are, wearing only a black lacy bra in some photos, a Vivienne Westwood orb hanging between your breasts. In other's you show off your big platform Demonia's, and Neo wishes he could have you here, stepping on him with those chunky boots and telling him how pathetic he is that he has stooped so low as to cyber stalk you. 

As his mind continues down it's own rabbit hole with you in tow, he finds himself sitting back down at his desk. He's been a good boy today, not watching you at all yet, and it's late. So he deserves a little taste, right? Just a peek to make sure you're okay, to see what you're up to. 

Before any sort of morality can plague him, his long, thin fingers are typing away, pausing only briefly to take a sip of black coffee. He keeps the drink on hand always, his desk littered with a few spare mugs, the insides of which are dry and have brown stains from where coffee used to inhabit. He continues to work around your security, until finally the screen blazes to life, showing the image of your room. 

He doesn't see you in there, and for a moment a twinge of panic sets in. Are you out somewhere? You hardly left the house. Where would you even be? Probably somewhere old losers like him don't frequent. His mind burned at the idea that you could, very possibly, be out with someone else. There was no real reason for Neo assuming this, no. But the worry filled his gut right next to the luke warm coffee, and he felt his hand tighten around the mouse. 

His eyes scanned the screen for what felt  like ages, before finally, your bathroom door opens, and he sees you step out in a  black towel. Your long black hair is wet, leaving droplets on your shoulders. Your face is bare of your usual make up, and that, for some reason, feels more invasive for a moment to Neo than even the possibility of seeing you naked soon. In fact, his face heats up as the thought finally crosses his mind that there is no scenario in which to continue watching right now would be good, or morally right, in any such way. 

There is also no world in which Neo does take his eyes away. He is glued to your pixels on the screen, and he even leans in to see better as you drop your towel on to your bedroom floor. He can see every inch of your body, so much more than what he saw in your private pictures or when he caught a glance of you through the bathroom door. No, this was enough that his cock was now struggling against his pants, which feel much too tight right now. 

He is so immersed in watching your after shower routine that his hand moves on its own, opening his desk drawer and finding his current most prized possession. He finds the panties he had stolen from you when last you met, and can't help but press them against his clean shaven face, inhaling your scent while he watches you. 

Soon enough, you're laying on your bed, air drying from the heat, your naked form exciting Neo through the screen. What he doesn't expect is that your own hand would snake up to your breast, your other beginning to play between your legs. Good God…Neo had never caught you playing with yourself in such a way since he started watching you. If he thought he was addicted before, it has nothing on what this does for him. 

As if feeling commanded by your own touching, Neo quickly undoes his belt with a frantic and needy hand, stumbling as he does from how filled with want he is. He keeps your panties pressed firmly against his face, taking that sweet scent in while he watches you open your legs wider. He lets out a whiny breath as he finally releases his cock, his hand giving no foreplay to what he wants. He hates how much power you have over him, even if it's through a screen and that vast distance of ever flowing information. Somehow, Neo has managed to find himself entranced by your, as if you were some digital siren, beckoning him to keep watching as you dip your fingers into your cunt. 

Neo's breath hitches as he continues to watch you feel yourself, and he can only imagine what it would be like to actually fill you up with his cock. If he was there, would your mouth part, opening to moan out his name? He wonders how warm you would feel around his cock, and the thought of being able to actually fuck you sends him closer to the edge. 

Neo watches as you continue, your moans now loud enough that your computer microphone catches it. Neo can hear your soft, whiny moans in his headphones as you get closer, not knowing at all that he's watching you through your webcam. He has no idea that you're thinking of him as much as he is you. Not yet at least. 

As you get closer, Neo's name falls from your lips in a soft whimper. Neo can hardly believe his ears, did you really just moan out his name? 

It's confirmed once more as your pleading gets more frantic, as if moaning his name in such a way could will him through the computer screen and there to fuck you into your bed. You have no idea that that's what Neo wants more than anything. He stuffs his face with your stolen panties and continues to imagine parting your legs even further, his cock thrusting in and out of you instead of his own hand. 

It's not until your legs shake, moving and tightening together as his name shudders from your desperate voice that Neo let's himself cum. No, he had to see that you in that moment, that ecstasy. That's what he wanted to give to you, what he imagined he had done, to make you such a mess on your own bedsheets. That's what was driving him wild right now as he finally finds his peak of pleasure. 

As Neo finishes, he leans back in his chair, the little fan on his desk not doing much to cool the sweat on his skin. Neo has to find a way to catch his breath, his eyes droopy and unable to focus on much. He can still see your shape, vaguely, as you also seem exhausted in your bed so far away. 

Fuck. He really was fucked, huh? There was no way he was going to be able to keep this relationship professional. Not with him stalking you, and how badly he wants you. 

He can't even think of the implications right now, instead he crawls into bed, shutting off almost all of his computer screens. He leaves yours own, the green light cascading on his face. He watches you curl up on your dark bed sheets, naked and too hot for covers. 

Neo falls asleep tonight to you and the sound of rain beginning to tap against his window. 

#neo x goth!reader #neo x reader #neo x hacker!reader #thomas anderson x reader #neo fanfic #the matrix fanfic #matrix fanfic #the matrix 1999 #my writing #goth!reader #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you

[queer-rose]

A Grave Misunderstanding

Summary: Wednesday completely misinterprets what Enid said, and it leads to some dire consequences

TW: Homophobia | But it's by accident and shunned

Meant to be more humorous than serious, but I thought of the concept in the shower and wrote it on a whim.

Length: 2331 Words

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

“Wednesday, can I talk to you?” Enid asked, stepping up to the center of their shared room. 

“If you must,” she responded, turning away from the typewriter to look at Enid, her stoic gaze nearly piercing into the girl’s soul.

“Well, this is gonna be kind of hard but, I’m,” Enid hesitated, looking away from Wednesday, “I think I’m gay.”

“Of course. It has always been incredibly obvious. I do not know how it took you this long to realize,” Wednesday responded, before turning back around to work on her novel. Keys from the typewriter once again filled the dorm. 

“Wait, you knew?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I hadn’t realized it yet,” Enid stepped over the line in the middle of the room, slowly approaching Wednesday. 

“Peculiar. Anyways, I wish to return to my writing undisturbed now, go away.”

“Wait Willa one last thing,” Enid began. Wednesday interrupted with “Don’t call me Willa” but Enid ignored it, continuing on “Are you okay with it?”

“I thought I made it abundantly clear that I do not appreciate it.”

“Oh,” Enid whispered. Wednesday heard a sob break out just before the door to their dorm slammed shut. 

‘She was crying’ Thing tapped out.

“I tell her I do not appreciate how carefree she acts often, it is odd that this time she expressed issue with it,” Wednesday responded, turning to face Thing, “What do you think would be the cause of it?”

‘I don’t know’ 

“Hm, I suppose it’s a mystery for another day. I have already wasted enough of my writing time.” The sounds of a typewriter could once again be heard filling the dorm, though Wednesday couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that was gnawing away at her as she wrote

***

Enid had not returned by the time Wednesday went to sleep and she still wasn’t there when she awoke in the morning which caused the painful feeling in Wednesday’s chest to soar, much to her annoyance.

“Thing, has Enid been in?” 

‘She stopped in last night to pack a bag while you were asleep, asked me not to wake you. Wouldn’t answer any of my questions though.’

“She packed a bag again? I thought we were past this,” Wednesday thought aloud, a sadness plaguing her thoughts even if she would never admit it, “She is most likely in Yoko’s dorm. I’ll have to go ask for her.”

She got ready for the day quicker than she normally would, before going to do just that. However, the second Yoko peaked through the door and saw it was her, the door slammed in her face. “Fuck off Addams, Enid isn’t talking to you.”

“I do not understand why she is upset. I have expressed the discomfort before and she never appeared bothered.”

“You’ve done this before? Jesus Christ you're a prick Addams, just go away,” Yoko screamed through the door, with the only interruption to her shouts being the broken sobs of Enid echoing throughout the room. 

Wednesday considered continuing the conversation, but knew that fighting Yoko here was essentially fighting Enid, which wouldn’t help anything. So with one final disgruntled noise, she moved from Yoko’s room to her first class of the day. 

The class itself was normal, her classmates however were not. Instead of the normal indifference or fear that was displayed on their faces, a majority of her classmates were glaring at her. Even Bianca, who would normally smirk at her when she answered a question before Wednesday, refused to turn around and look at the goth. She would glare back at the classmates that dared to look at her in the first place, which scared them into looking away, but it was still an odd occurrence.

The final nail that something was incredibly wrong happened on the way to her third class that day. An eraser hit the back of her head and someone shouted, “Fuck off homophobe.” When she turned around to look for the source of the shout, she found everyone in the hallway glaring at her. She sent one more Addams-patented glare back before walking to her third class. 

However, she seemed unable to focus during this class. That word kept sticking in her mind, as she could not figure it out. She had never heard the word ‘homophobe’ before and trying to piece together the latin roots seemed to be doing nothing for her. Even after many attempts, she could only loosely piece together a fear of the same, which made no sense. It also wouldn’t explain why everyone appeared to be angry with her. Thing was unfortunately no help in the matter. So finally, when lunch rolled around, she moved towards the quad to search for someone to ask, no matter how much she was against the idea.

Upon entering the quad, conversations almost instantly hushed. At first she assumed it was because she never was seen here unless there were no other options, but then Wednesday noticed that a majority of the students were glaring at her with malicious intent once again. Finally someone shouted that word again, and it quickly started being chorused throughout the quad. She schooled her face to stop confusion from crossing it before moving to find someone to talk to. 

Enid and Yoko were nowhere to be found, so it seemed likely that they were eating in Yoko’s dorm, which unfortunately left her with only one option. Cautiously, she approached the table Bianca was sitting at. As she approached the table, conversations around the quad began to pick back up, even if the students still glared at her as she walked past. 

Finally, she reached the table, “Bianca, I need your help.” Bianca however, did not even spare her a glance. Instead continuing to talk to the people that were at her table. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, Wednesday continued “Please.”

This got Bianca’s attention, as her eyes snapped towards Wednesday in surprise. She still looked unhappy to see her, but she also looked contemplative. After multiple silent moments as Bianca’s table watched the interaction, she finally stood up. “You have 2 minutes.”

“That is acceptable, this should not take long.”

It only took a few moments for the two of them to find a secluded hallway beside the quad. Out of sight from her fellow classmates, but more importantly out of earshot.

“Okay Addams, what’s so important?”

Wednesday once again took a deep breath, preparing herself to ask Bianca of all people for help, “I do not understand why everyone is angry, and because of your social standing I assumed you would know.”

“You don’t,” Bianca stuttered out, a look of both anger and shock passing over her face, “How the hell could you not figure it out? They literally shouted it at you as you approached me. Do you ignore people that much?”

“That is… the issue. Despite my efforts, I cannot piece together what the word ‘homophobe’ means. Thing has been no help and Enid is still upset with me, so I cannot go to her for help on the matter.”

Bianca stood still for a moment, her eyes still full of some shock, but also staring into Wednesday’s soul. Almost as if she’d be able to read her mind by doing so, “Oh my god.”

“What is it Barclay? I do not have time for this guessing game. We only have 30 seconds remaining until our conversation is out of time”

“Oh my god you’re being serious.”

“Of course I’m being serious. When do you know me to joke. Now Barclay, tell me why people are angry with me before the time is up.”

“Ignore that stupid time I gave you Addams. I have some things to ask you now instead,” Bianca rapidly spoke, before taking a breath and slowing down, “Like first off, do you know what LGBT is?”

“Why would I care to know what some insipid little acronym means?”

“Okay, this is making a lot of sense. Let’s fall back to your conversation with Enid.”

“I do not know how you know of that conversation nor do I wish to talk about it with you, I just wish to know what the word homophobe means Barclay.”

“This is important to that, and as for how I know, Yoko told me, but do you know what gay means?”

“Of course,” she responded, confusion written on her face for a moment before she morphed her face back into a stoic expression once again. This caused Bianca’s face to fall, disappointment in her gaze, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh,” Bianca responded slowly, “So you only know some of the terms. That also means you meant what you said to Enid. I’m done here Addams, good day.” She began walking away.

“Of course I meant it, Her constant cheeriness is a drain to be around and every day I wish that she would stop. That still does not tell me what homophobe means.”

This caused Bianca to stop in her tracks, realization dawning on her face. After a few moments, she broke out into a chuckle, before finally breaking into a pure belly-laugh. “Oh my god. I can’t believe this. Everything makes so much sense now. Oh my god.”

“I am happy it makes sense to you, because it still doesn’t make sense to me,” Wednesday deadpanned. 

“Okay okay,” Bianca started between laughs, “I can fix this, just give it a minute.” Once she finally stopped laughing, she pulled out her phone and sent a few messages. The phone dinged nearly instantly and she smirked before putting it back in her pocket. “If you can wait here for about 5 minutes Addams, everything will make sense.”

The goth let out a disgruntled sigh, but stood there anyways. She refused to let it show that she was confused as to what Bianca meant, or as to why she was still periodically giggling, but she did let it show that she was annoyed by this turn of events. That is until Enid and Yoko rounded the corner and paused like a deer in headlights. 

Enid turned to move before being interrupted by Bianca. “Okay you two, no running, this is a miscommunication and I’m here to solve it for you all,” She faced away from Wednesday, who watched, unable to stop the small smile from playing on her face when she looked at Enid. 

“Miscommunication? She said she hated that I’m gay,” Enid growled towards Wednesday. There was a viscous malice in her eyes that made the goth girl feel almost sad, though that wouldn’t stop her from speaking her mind.

“Of course, you are too lighthearted and cheery for your own good, Sinclair,” Wednesday spoke up from behind Bianca, making both Enid and Yoko freeze once again. Finally, Yoko burst out into laughter. 

“I do not get why both you and Barclay find this so funny. I just wish to know what the word ‘homophobe’ means and I will be on my way.”

“Okay, now that you two are here,” Bianca began, looking between Enid and Wednesday, “We can solve this miscommunication and teach you what homophobe means.”

“Finally,” the goth muttered under her breath, before moving towards Bianca. Enid hesitantly did the same which brought forward a painful feeling in her chest, much to her dismay. 

“So, Wednesday, let’s start out with this. Do you know what homosexual means?” Bianca continued.

Wednesday paused, thinking for a moment, before responding, “I suppose it would mean someone who is sexually attracted to similarities?”

This finally made everything click for Enid, her wariness instantly transforming into giggles. Wednesday sent the cheery werewolf a glare, but otherwise kept her focus on Bianca.

“Kind of. A homosexual is someone who is attracted to the same gender. There’s a lot of nuance that we don’t have time to get into, but homosexual can often mean both sexually or romantically.”

Wednesday stopped, her thoughts clearly trying to figure out what was happening, “That does not make sense. The school has no reason to believe I dislike homosexual people. I am attracted to a woman myself,” The final sentence trailed off as she realized what she was saying, but it was still enough for all 3 girls there to understand what was being said. Their eyes widened, glancing between each other, before Bianca looked back towards Wednesday and let the revelation go. 

“Well they kind of do because-” Bianca began, before being interrupted by Enid, “Because gay is another word for homosexual.”

This made Wednesday’s eyes open in shock, before looking over at Enid. She opened her mouth to respond, but for once in her life she felt speechless. 

Finally after what felt like an eternity of silence, Wednesday spoke, “I apologize. I did not mean to make you feel the way you must have. I have never heard the term ‘gay’ used in that way before because my family does not subscribe to such labels.”

“God silly you had me so worried,” Enid rushed over to her, a large smile plastered on her face and a hop in her step, “I thought you were a bigot and it turns out you’re just weird.”

“We prefer kooky.”

“Kooky it is then,” the werewolf giggled.

There was some hesitation before, “Thing missed you Sinclair.”

The smile on Enid’s face softened, “I missed you too.”

They stood there for a few more minutes just staring at each other, which Bianca and Yoko took as their queue to leave, before Enid finally spoke up, “So then miss emotionless goth who hates everybody, which girl caught your ire?”

“An annoyance who shouldn’t be asking questions like that,” Wednesday responded, and Enid only giggled before leaning in for a hug. The goth hesitated, but eventually relented and allowed Enid to hug her. A small smile played at both of their lips as Enid squeezed tighter than before. 

“God I love you Willa.”

There was no response for a minute, before finally, “I love you too Enid.”

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

A/N This is the first time I've written anything that isn't code in like 3 years and I wrote it on a whim at 3 AM. It's also my first actual Tumblr post. It's probably a bit OOC and definitely isn't great, but hopefully someone gets some enjoyment out of it.

#wenclair #wednesday #wednsday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday x enid #wednesday netflix #fanfic #gay #homophobia but its accidental #wenclair fanfic #please ao3 give me an account #bianca barclay

[inga-don-studio]

Disappointed to find out that the phrase ‘Merry Cryptmas’ has been adopted by the cryptocurrency community. This is why we can’t have nice things.

#Ugh :/ #I’ve seen Merry Spookmas or Merry Creepmas used by other gothy sorts but I don’t really care for either phrase #I think I first heard ‘Merry Cryptmas’ used on a Tales From the Crypt album I loved as a kid and have used it off & on #So I’m attached to it #But I just did a search for images and .. the cryptocurrency community was all over the results #*disgruntled goth noises* #If anyone has kinda cute spooky alternatives to saying Merry Christmas I’m all ears! #I guess for now I just have to start using ‘Happy horrordays’ - which is fine #‘Scary Christmas’ sort of works too

[shadyteacup]

hi minnie congrats on 700+ followers!! 🥳 may i request barista akutagawa + you leaving your number on a napkin? thank you and i hope you have a wonderful day! <3

Hiya! Thank you!<3<3

Here's your order~

Akutagawa Ryu x gn! Reader

Warmth flooded your system as you sipped your hot chocolate in peace. You had always loved exploring tiny coffee establishments, and the rain outside was the perfect excuse to hurry into a cute cafe at the end of the road. The hot chocolate was calming, but you had your eye on the blueberry cheesecake displayed on the glass shelf. Your day had been hectic so far. You had been constantly on your feet, running around town to get things done. The sudden patter of a single raindrop on your nose was the first indication of a raging storm to come. It didn’t take a genius to predict the change in weather; a casual look towards the skies and the ominous dark coat of clouds had you running to find shelter before the inevitable occurred. It was a lovely break, one that you could enjoy guilt-free, as the will of the heavens wasn’t in your control.

Besides, you had an eye out for the quiet barista who made your drink. He had taken your order earlier and had barely spoken two words.

‘Your order?’, he had rasped out a bit disgruntled, a result of not speaking for quite a while.

He hadn’t said a word afterward, silently accepting your money and handing you the change, before turning to get to work.

That could only mean one of two things:

a. He didn’t like you.

b. He wasn’t talkative.

You hoped it was the latter, for you had grown fond of him during the short time you had been here. He was rather clumsy for a barista, constantly bumping into corners and dropping spoons. It was an adorable sight. He had a menacing aura around him, but you wondered if he was even aware of it. It was a big misconception that arises due to his introvertish nature. And the constant scowl present on his pale face.

You found the way he tucked his side bangs behind his ear charming; the icy tips giving him a goth look. The way he jumped slightly when he heard a customer approach him suddenly, or how he hid his face behind his bangs, only to realize that they were coming in his way and irritating him, blocking his view; you found it all very cute. You found yourself looking towards the silent man once again, and quickly averted your eyes to the window to your side. You didn’t want to appear weird and had to get your wandering eyes in check.

The rain seemed to have a mind of its own as it twirled, dashed, and giggled along with the winds, getting unsuspecting passersby wet. When one felt he was safe beneath a sturdy covering, the rain changed its angle and greeted him with a grin. How truly naughty.

You were brought out of your personifications by a grunt next to you. You jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion but quickly gathered yourself upon meeting dark grey eyes framed by ebony locks.

“You scared me!”, you exclaimed, placing a hand on your frantic heart. Although, you weren’t sure why it was beating so fast. Was it really the sudden noise, or was it the sudden closeness of the boy you were daydreaming about?

The barista, whom you knew was called Akutagawa, thanks to the name pin on his apron, averted his eyes from your wide ones, and mumbled a quick, “Sorry.”

You shook your hands frantically, “No, please don’t apologize! I should have been more aware of my surroundings!”

Akutagawa looked down at his hands, an unsure aura surrounding him.

You followed his gaze and noticed a desert plate in his hands. It held a slice of the blueberry cheesecake that you had wanted to have.

“Oh, I didn’t order that.”, you explained. You felt stupid for staring at the cake. It must have led him to believe that you had ordered it and were waiting for it.

To your surprise, the man looked away as a faint blush crept up his ears.

“It’s on the house.”

You blinked at him and tried desperately to hide your raging blush behind your hands.

“O-oh.”

He quickly placed the dessert on the table and dashed out of your vicinity, back to the safety of the counter.

You, on the other hand, were blushing and grinning like an idiot on Christmas. The red on your face could have you mistaken for Santa’s coat, and you were too giddy to notice how stupid you must have looked.

It’s not every day that a handsome barista gives you cake, and blushes while he does so.

You hum happily as you bite into the sweet dessert, and notice the rain dull down to a silent patter. The sun had begun shining through the dark clouds, a symbol of your happiness.

Meanwhile, Akutagawa was mentally cursing himself for blushing near you, the pretty customer who he had liked the moment they had walked through the doors of the cafe. He had noticed how you were eyeing the cake and thought it to be the best opportunity to let you know he liked you. He wasn’t big on words, but he did know the importance of gestures. This was his way of making a tiny gesture.

He didn’t know if you liked him back, but he thought it was worth a try. He had noticed you looking his way a couple of times but was unsure of the reason.

Did you not like the way he made the hot chocolate and were giving him looks of loathing? Or did you find his face funny?

A tiny voice in his heart suggested that maybe your constant stares were a result of something nice, and not out of loathing or hatred. Maybe, you were looking at him because you liked him back.

So he took a chance.

But your reaction just now was confusing to him. He didn’t know whether you liked it.

His mind was overflowing with self-doubt when he noticed you get up from your seat and make your way towards him. He gulped nervously and refused to meet your gaze as you stood in front of him. If only he had looked up, he would have seen the most charming smile on your face.

“Thank you for the cake, by the way.”, you said, resulting in Akutagawa looking up at you with relief all over his features.

“This,”, you handed him a napkin, “is my way of paying you back for your kindness.”

Akutagawa held onto the napkin and watched you walk out the door, an umbrella in your hand.

He opened the folded napkin, to see a phone number written on it. He neatly folded it back and secured it in his jeans pocket, safely tucking away the most important piece of paper in the whole world.

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@ukiyoo0430 @boineko @missrown @munakara @dazaiaiko @ravenina14

#shadyteacup event #shadyteacup #shady☕ #bungou stray dogs #bsd #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bsd x reader #kunikida doppo #☕ says #akutagawa #bsd beast #sskk #shin soukoku #bungo stray dogs #dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd smut #edgar allen poe bsd #bsd headcanons #bsd icons #bsd ranpo #bsd atsushi #bsd fanart #chuuya nakahara #bsd manga #bsd aktugawa #bsd akiko

[ladybugout-au]

Hi MC! Tomorrow (May 22) is World Goth Day! Got any snippets you’re holding onto that focus on Juleka (by herself or with Rose, Luka, Trixx, etc.) to share? :3c

Sure! Here you go!

—————

Juleka hugged herself as she walked back onto the Liberty, feeling Luka's observant eyes on her as she headed towards the cabin. She wanted to talk about her problems and wanted to talk to him about it, but she struggled to talk first, too many thoughts in her head keeping her quiet.

She walked up the stairs to the cabin, then sighed and sunk down to sit on the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs to start sulking. Memories of the big argument over the LadyNoir kiss were still vivid in her mind, and she couldn't help feeling conflicted over it. She wondered if it would've been better to speak up, or if she shouldn't have an opinion at all.

It didn't take long for her to hear familiar footsteps, and she looked up beyond her knees to see Luka appearing, slightly adjusting his guitar so it wouldn't hit the wall as he went up the stairs. Juleka averted her gaze back to her legs, but didn't outwardly think that he wasn't welcome, which he seemed to understand without her saying it. He sat next to her, idly strumming a string or two on his guitar as he pretended to tune it; a typical sign of him giving her space and time to feel her thoughts out.

After a minute or so, when she lifted her head up again to glance at him, he smiled at her and tilted his head towards the helm, offering a light-hearted question of, "Where are you sailing us to, Jule?"

Her mouth twitched, almost pulling into a smile. She straightened up a little, letting the leg furthest from Luka stretch out across the floorboards while she continued hugging the other leg. The words finally came up to her throat, and she murmured, "It's Rose."

Luka didn't respond or ask questions, plucking a high note on his guitar and waiting for her to elaborate.

"Did you hear about that kiss?" she asked. Then, realizing that the question was about as clear as Luka's nail polish, clarified, "The one Ladybug and Chat Noir had?"

He looked up and off to the side, seeming to think. "I haven't seen it, but I heard about it."

It was a cautious answer. Juleka nodded, then explained, "Alya kinda told us that it happened while their memories were gone. She didn't really say it, but..." She let out a disgruntled noise, hugging her leg tighter. "There was a big fight about it. It was bad and I felt bad for Ladybug, but I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to," Luka assured. He grew quiet for a moment, as if piecing something together, then added in realization, "Rose said something."

Juleka nodded. "She was just—happy," she muttered, feeling a mixture of bitter and guilty. She ran her fingers anxiously through the bangs covering her left eye, blushing in embarrassment as she added on, "A-and it's cool when she's happy, but not there, and it was—it—"She groaned at her inability to work out what she was thinking.

"She didn't want to fight," Luka guessed, more as him openly wondering than trying to excuse Rose's actions, "and she didn't pick a side?"

She shook her head. "She was supporting Alya. She thought it was romantic, and I don't, and..." Her eyes shimmered, worry furrowing her brows. "I don't like it, but I can't tell her that."

"Hey." Luka's hand grabbed her shoulder, and when Juleka didn't protest it, he squeezed reassuringly. "You're great, and Rose knows that. She wouldn't hate you over something like this."

She closed her eyes, letting out a huff and mumbling, "B-but I'm mad. I keep thinking about Ladybug and she's not and..." She buried her face against her knee, breathing in, then rose up again to finish what she was saying. "Ladybug's probably upset."

She envisioned herself in Ladybug's place, the attention of Paris all focusing on her based on a picture she hadn't posed for. The lights, the microphones, all being thrown in her face as they prodded her all about things that aren't even relevant to her job. It was the thing Juleka feared most if she were to truly become a model, and—

"Jule, Jule," Luka called gently, pushing on her shoulder to turn him to her. "I'm here."

Juleka blinked a few times, feeling her mind drift back to reality. She nodded at him, wordlessly reassuring him that she wasn't going to spiral. He smiled, nodding back, then looked thoughtfully down at his guitar, pulling his hand away from her to grab hold of it. His hand hovered over the strings at the base of it, then he met her gaze to ensure that she was paying attention.

"You and Rose work at different pitches. Rose is here—" He plucked the thin string, making a high-pitched noise like he had earlier. "—and you're here." He plucked the thick string on the opposite end, making a lower-pitched sound. "They're not the same, but they can still make a melody, and I like how the two of you sound together." He looked back up at her. "The important thing is that you do too."

Juleka watched as he strummed the strings, up to down and then down to up. He hadn't said it with words, but she understood well enough. Saying nothing wasn't going to do anything, and she needed to meet Rose in the middle - talk to her - in order for her to understand.

"...I do," she confirmed with a soft exhale, then smiled even if it was small.

Luka smiled in return, then moved his guitar to his back. He leaned in, pressing a small kiss into the side of her head like he tended to do whenever he'd finished comforting her. It always felt like one final, "It'll be okay," from him, nonverbal but heard all the same.

Juleka watched him go, then pulled out her phone and stared at the picture of her and Rose on the lock screen. Pressing her finger to the device, she unlocked it, then navigated to her phone's browser to open up the Ladyblog, already feeling anxious at the sheer amount of clicks the kiss between Ladybug and Chat Noir had. Still, she forced the thoughts aside, going back to the home screen to stare at the picture of her and Rose again.

The negative feelings hadn't gone away completely, but she could see things more objectively now. Rose always tried to look on the bright side and being against the kiss was inherently negative. It made sense even if she didn't like it, though this maybe went deeper than she'd initially thought.

They'd be okay. They just had to talk.

#collab: LadyBugOut AU #canonicity: all #canonicity: canon #writing: all #writing: canon #character: juleka couffaine #character: luka couffaine #relationship: juleka couffaine & luka couffaine #relationship: juleka couffaine & rose lavillant #((Early early eaaaaarly in LadyBugOut's timeline.))

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

you’re so creepy | part i | ksj ver

Every campus has one. You know - the resident campus creepy girl. This campus has seven. All from in the boys’ POV.

summary: Seokjin is pretty sure his creepy girl is a witch. He’s totally not into that. Well. Unless...?

warnings: non-idol!BTS - university!BTS; alcohol consumption; 18+ for language, ends with a kiss that Seokjin enjoys a little too much; Seokjin’s POV

--

No amount of money or dares could force Kim Seokjin to approach the creepy goth girl. His friends all thought it would be funny for him to interact with the black-haired, thick eyeliner and dark lipstick wearing, brooding young lady that always seemed to show up to these university parties. He did not think it was funny at all. For all he knew, she practiced witchcraft and he was not down with that. Absolutely not.

Okay and maybe she scared the shit out of him.

“I heard she only comes to these parties to feed off the weak,” Kim Taehyung murmured in his ear.

“What does that even mean?” Min Yoongi muttered, raising an eyebrow as he took a sip of his beer. He frowned and glared at it, as if the contents of his cup offended him.

“Well if she’s feeding off the weak, you’re toast, Hobi-hyung,” Jeon Jungkook laughed, seeing Jung Hoseok’s face become panicked.

“Haha, what are you talking about?” Hoseok replied nervously, eyes darting around. “I have tons of courage.”

“Hyung, can you get me something else?” Yoongi nudged him with his cup.

“Yah, I’m older than you! Get it yourself.”

“Yeah, but you were going to get up anyway, weren’t you?” Yoongi tilted his head at him. “You’re standing up.”

He made a disgruntled noise. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

He left them, hurrying off to the bathroom. The goth girl had arrived dressed in a ripped up black sweatshirt and black jeans, milling about with a trail of admirers. The two silver hoops on each side of her lower lip flashed in the bright lights, a stark contrast against her black lipstick. Her long black hair was messy and wild, covering part of her face. Seokjin shook his head. He just didn’t get why anyone would be attracted to someone who radiated eeriness. He went to the bathroom and did his business. He was pretty sure girls like that would never be interested in guys like him. He was clean-cut, wholesome, confident. Too different for someone who looked like they summoned ghosts in their spare time. He washed his hands, drying them neatly.

The door of the bathroom opened and he squeaked, whipping his head around quickly.

It was the creepy goth girl.

“Oh. It’s the pretty boy actor kid.”

She closed the door behind her.

She closed the door.

“W-what?”

“Yeah, the actor major who been avoiding me,” she said absentmindedly. She didn’t even bother to address that she was standing in the bathroom of a random house having this discussion. “I was on stage crew for the play production. You were the lead actor. Ah, Kim Seokjin, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, you remember me?” He laughed awkwardly, despite his mind screaming that he was going to be sacrificed any second now.

“Of course, I remember you, you freaked out every time I was within ten feet of you.”

“I– well, no, of course I didn’t–”

She tilted her head and took a step towards him. He nearly shrieked and she grinned at him. He backed up into the sink and she swooped in, placing one hand on either side of him, pressing close. He could smell the spicy bitterness of her perfume. The holes in her sweatshirt were huge and he could see the black bra underneath it. His eyes widened, his voice dying in his throat.

“They say pretty boy Seokjin is scared of creepy girls,” she drawled, her tongue sliding out and teasing one of her lip piercings. “But you’re not scared, right, pretty boy?”

He was close to screaming but she ground her pelvis against his, startling him.

“W-what are you doing?” he croaked, surprised that his heart was beating so fast.

She raised an eyebrow, looking up at him innocently. Her pink tongue slid out and wiggled slowly in the air, drawing slow circles framed by her black lips. His eyes were glued to her tongue, watching with fascination. Her hands slid up his sides, long delicate fingers with black painted fingernails. One of her hands danced up his shirt, the other snaking around his neck. He couldn’t move. He wasn’t sure if he was because he was freaked out or because he was aroused. She pulled him down, straining on her tiptoes to bring her face close to his.

“Still scared, pretty boy Seokjin?”

He felt her lips press against his, soft except for the hard metal of the lip rings digging into his skin. She bit his lower lip, making him gasp. She took the chance to slide her tongue inside, her other hand dragging her nails down the front of his shirt, setting his skin on fire. He noticed her eyes were closed, lashes dark and outlined with a feverish amount of black eyeliner.

She kissed him roughly, breaking apart with a smirk. He was too flabbergasted to speak. Her lipstick was smeared and messy, but she seemed not to care.

“See you around, pretty boy Seokjin.”

And she turned around and left the bathroom.

After a good five minutes, he exited the bathroom in a daze. He needed fifty drinks to wash the memory away immediately. His dick was fighting to leave his pants at the mere thought of those lip rings and black lipstick.

He found Yoongi next to the alcohol, who seemed to have decided he had the ability to get up and serve himself. His questioning eyes saw Seokjin’s shocked expression and then fixated on his mouth.

“Uh… why do you have black smeared all over your lips?”

-

after the kiss.

--

masterpost

#seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin scenarios #bts drabble #jin x reader #seokjin fluff

[valkyrieofsmut]

Captive Love   19

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: Sweetheart enjoys flustering Papyrus, and he tries to educate her in the greatest of performers; Mettaton... Aka, share his interests with her. Also... other stuff happens.

A/N: Important stuff! So! While looking through stuff, I looked through the bookmarks to this story (on Ao3, for multiple reasons) and saw a comment in the bookmark saying that they weren't sure why she hadn't gotten her voice back, yet. This is honestly a good question. I guess it wasn't clear enough, I mean, a lot of stuff has happened. I tried to put the speech indicators to show that her voice is getting better, but then she'll yell and scream at Sans or someone on the phone (her idiot boss) and it'll get a bit worse. Also, I did a count of the days (quickly scanning through the whole file so I could be a little off) and at the beginning of the next chapter she's only been there for two weeks (13 days actually) and only been awake for 10 of them. Even if we give the benefit of the doubt and say three weeks (pretty sure that's the time frame I was aiming for about the point they had sex), she's basically gotten her voice back, its just a bit wobbly and squeaky. I dunno 'bout the rest of y'all, but last time I got sick (actually right before I started writing this story) I lost my voice for about a month and a half. I started getting it back after a month, had two weeks of the squeaky voice of a dog toy, and then a week of where it was mostly back, but still wobbly and had to clear my throat a lot because of it cutting out and squeaking. This is for informative purposes, not to be a jerk. Even though I feel like a jerk... lol God damn it! Do you know how hard I tried not to make it so he had a sock thing?! Maybe a preference or soft spot, but not an all out fetish. Like, 'ooo, yeah, those're sexy,' sure, but not, 'oh god, I'm so hard 'cause you're wearing socks!' *sigh* I fail at life... Enjoy an about double length chapter!.

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

Story

Papyrus tries to be... friendly? Maybe. Is that what he's doing? Yes.

Contrary to what Sans had said, the two spent the time until Papyrus came back not having sex, but cuddling and making out. 

“SANS!” Papyrus called from downstairs, knowing too well not to go near his brother’s room unless he was interested in an accidental show. 

Sans pulled back from the kiss he was tangled in with (Y/n), glancing to the door before giving her another kiss and climbing from the bed to go down to his brother. 

(Y/n) laid back, biting her lip and smiling. 

Ok… so it hadn’t started out great, but, really, even if she left now, the sex was amazing, and she wouldn’t have a problem messaging him. Who knew about a relationship, but what they had was pretty sweet. 

A sudden realization hit her. 

What did Sans think of relationships? 

Was it something monsters did? It seemed like they avoided showing that they had feelings or emotions at every turn, and she could see how having a relationship would blow that out of the water. 

Did she want a relationship? 

Yes, sex was nice, and it was nice spending time with him, but… it was entirely different than having a relationship. Right now, they were basically almost friends, with benefits. Maybe closer to fuck buddies who liked hanging out. 

It was a strange gray area to be in. 

(Y/n) stretched and climbed from the bed, hurrying to grab some clothes and head to take a quick shower to wash the smell of sex from her. 

How long had it been since her body had felt so well used? So nicely taken care of? 

...How long had it been since she’d been a willing participant in it becoming this sore? 

She shook her head to get that thought out of her head. 

It didn’t matter, anyway, that bastard was gone, and she was here. 

She needed to enjoy her life. 

She instead focused on washing up, bemoaning that her legs had gotten so hairy and that there was no razer around here to shave. How could she have forgotten to tell Sans to get one when she sent him out for everything and the kitchen sink? 

After her shower, she went into Sans’ room and found the bag he’d brought back on the off chance that he had gotten one and she’d just missed it. 

No luck, though she did find a pair of really cute over the knee socks. They looked like they were either from a halloween display, or from a store that sold punk and goth type clothing, having a print of tiny scattered skull and crossbones, and a bit of lace and back ribbon at the top.

Well… at least they’d cover the hairs on her legs and she wouldn’t be so self conscious about them. 

She pulled on a shirt, the pants she’d originally been wearing, and did her best with her hair before she walked downstairs. 

Papyrus was making a lot of noise in the kitchen, and Sans was nowhere to be seen. 

He must have gone out for something… 

(Y/n) went to the kitchen and stopped next to Papyrus. 

He looked down at her with a suspicious glare, but she responded with a friendly grin. 

Papyrus quickly looked away with a bit of red growing over his cheeks. 

Embarrassment… that’s right; being nice flustered him. 

A mischievous grin lifted her lips. 

This was going to be fun. 

As Papyrus started trying to make the shepherd's pie again, she stood near, pre measuring things and handing them to him. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, HUMAN?!” He demanded, his hands going to rest on his pelvis. 

“He-ping,” she told him, then shot a huge grin. [helping]

Papyrus' sharp teeth gritted hard and he turned away with a glare. 

(Y/n) held back her laughter. 

So much fun. 

As Papyrus was starting to layer, the door opened and Sans came back in. 

“SANS! COME GET YOUR HUMAN! SHE’S UNDERFOOT!” Papyrus demanded. 

Sans entered the kitchen, seeing (Y/n) helpfully handing a bowl of mashed potatoes to his brother, whose skull was glowing across his cheekbones and nasal ridge. 

He stuffed his smokes in his pocket and strolled over to where (Y/n) was grinning at him. He gave her a devious grin back, his sharp teeth flashing at her, and let his tongue trace his golden fang suggestively. 

Sans stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling behind her ear. "c'mon, sweetheart, stop botherin' my bro an' come in th' other room wit me. i got an idea 'f how ta entertain ya." Sans chuckled at her obviously flustered form against him. “c’mon sweetheart, give ‘im th’ potatoes an’ come wit me.” 

Papyrus took the bowl of potatoes from her and made a disgruntled and disgusted noise as Sans guided (Y/n) to the other room. 

He sat her on the couch and sat next to her, pulling the remote out and putting on a show. 

(Y/n) sniffed the air, noticing a heavier cherry and vanilla smell around Sans. 

"What's that sm-ll?" She asked. 

"what smell?" Sans asked, looking over at her with a brow ridge up. 

"It's on you, like… vanilla, and cherry," she told him. 

"oh," Sans hummed, pulling out a slightly worn box to show her. "that's my smokes."

"You smoke?" She asked in surprise. 

"yeah, sometimes," he murmured, his eyelights flashing to the kitchen. 

(Y/n) mentally shrugged. Smoking was bad, but who knew if it even affected him the same way… He wasn't doing it around her, and at least the smoke smelled good. 

Over all, filed under 'not her business'. 

.

After a dinner filled with Papyrus shooting them disgusted looks from his spot across the table and telling them the 'thrilling adventures' he'd had that day, Papyrus made them stay downstairs to watch Mettaton shows. 

"boss, i don't wanna watch any mettaton stuff," Sans complained. 

"TOO BAD; I'M NOT LETTING YOU TWO WANDER OFF TO YOUR OWN DEVICES! WHO ONLY KNOWS WHAT WOULD HAPPEN THEN!" 

"heh, i know what'd happen," Sans commented, giving (Y/n) a suggestive wink. 

Papyrus gave a put upon sigh and wedged his way between them on the couch. 

"hey, bro, what're ya doin'?!" Sans complained, shuffling out of the way a bit so he didn't get sat on. 

"I DON'T WANT THE TWO OF YOU CANOODELING RIGHT NEXT TO ME!" Papyrus declared. 

"then let us go up ta my room, bro," Sans sighed, managing to hold back his irritation. "simple as that." 

"NO CANOODELING!" Papyrus declared. 

He spent a lot of the shows explaining to (Y/n) how their star, and sometimes only actor, was better than anything humans could possibly have, often spending half a segment explaining the ‘complicated and far superior’ bits. 

After enough time had apparently passed, Papyrus decided it was time to go to bed and ushered them all upstairs. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, Sans let out an irritated breath before looking up at (Y/n) and letting his sharp teeth curl into a predatory grin. 

Heat shot through (Y/n)'s belly, her heart rate going up. 

"c'mere, sweetheart," Sans beckoned her to the bed as he reached it himself. "i have a feelin' yer tongue's been away from mine fer too long…" 

(Y/n) felt a bit of embarrassment mixing with the excitement that was filling her, heat starting to build already. 

"aw, c'mon, sweetness," Sans drew his voice out temptingly, the low tones somehow reminding her already wettening core what he'd done to it earlier and making it clench. "no need ta be so shy noww." 

(Y/n) slowly stepped toward the bed, fluttering filling her belly. 

“there ya go,” Sans praised as she got closer. “that’s it, sweetheart, c’mon closer,” he told her as he knelt on the bed and moved to the middle, sitting on his knees. “wait, this’s gonna be easier if ya take those pants off b’fore ya get up here,” he commented. 

A wave of trepidation fell over her, and she thought through what was happening, trying to be completely sure she was ok with what was about to happen. 

One round of sex and a day of making out, you could… maybe still be friends. Any more than that… who knew… 

“what’s wrong, sweetheart?” Sans asked, his expression turning more toward question than the suggestive thing it had been. 

(Y/n) paused, then reached for her pants and started taking them off. 

“mmm, there ya go, sweetheart,” Sans commented as she started crawling toward him on the bed, his expression slipping back to that one of suggestive intent. 

She made her way up, then paused in front of him, biting her lip as she reached under her shirt and worked her bra off without taking off her shirt. Her attention was drawn back to Sans at the lustful noise he made as she threw it to the floor behind her. 

“i didn’t know ya knew magic, sweetheart,” Sans chuckled, leaning forward and grabbing her by the hips to draw her closer to him. His hands slid down her thighs, moving around them, then up the backs to take her panties and start dragging them down her thighs. 

As she lifted one knee so he could get them off, he caught sight of the dark fabric on her calf and twisted a little around her to get a better look. 

Yes, there were little skull and crossbones distributed every so often over the black of the fabric, a bit of lace nearly hidden behind her knee. 

“fuck,” Sans murmured softly, his phalanges lingering over the soft fabric as he helped her off with her panties. 

(Y/n) looked at him in question, following his gaze, her leg registering where he was touching. 

Oh. 

Oh!

Ooooooooh… 

He’d bought those… maybe not even purposely for her… 

Here she was wearing them, and if the tent in his shorts was anything to go by, he wholeheartedly approved. 

Sans tried to stop the drool from dripping between his teeth as his fingers took in the feel of her soft leg inside of the socks, tracing the muscles that filled out the fabric and looking sexier than he had imagined. 

He hadn’t even dared to hope that she’d willingly wear them, let alone put them on herself, yet here she was, calves covered in the socks, looking sexy enough that if she pressed her knees together, her legs would look good enough to- he’d have to hold on to the backs of her thighs so that he could brace himself to thrust, keeping her feet together with his knees and her knees together with his hands- 

Sans blinked his sockets to clear his fantasy, gripping the backs of her thighs and pulling her up into his lap, pausing only to get his shorts out of the way. Then he was pulling her up over him, her knees on the outsides of his hips, angling and positioning them both so that as he eased her to sit down, she felt the head of his cock brushing against her. 

(Y/n) bit her lip, her body giving all the signals that it was interested and ready, and one of his hands slipped between them to guide his cock, brushing against her wet folds until he found her opening. 

The hand on her hip gripped harder as he encouraged her down, sliding into her, and his face turned into a grimace of pleasure. 

“nnn, fuck, ya feel jus’ ‘s good ‘s last time…” He told her through gasped breaths. “fuuuuck, sweetheart… ya a’ways this hot an’ wet, or is this jus’ fer me?” He groaned as she sank down, her thighs finally meeting where his shorts had crumpled around his femurs. 

“Sans,” she whispered, her hands clenching around the back of his shirt, grabbing at his ribs and making him growl needily. 

One of his hands buried itself in her hair, tangling and fisting in it to point her face to his, his teeth pressing against her lips and parting them to let his tongue meet hers, and she moaned, her hips following the motions he was guiding her through to get a bit of movement going. 

It was a bit awkward due to the angle, and only served to make them both want more. 

Sans' hand moved from her hip to give a rough grope to her ass, holding her against him as he turned and laid over top of her. 

His pelvis stayed against her as he knelt up, his hands running down her calves, the roughness of his phalanges catching a little at her socks. 

He gave a squeeze to her calves, then lifted them up over his shoulders, nuzzling them, his hands stroking over them. 

His hands slid down to her thighs, gripping them tightly before starting to move his pelvis. 

He rocked gently for a moment, but soon leaned forward, pushing her knees closer to her chest as he did, and it seemed to open her up to him more, making her able to feel every inch of him as he moved inside her. 

Sans held her thighs tight against his ribs, keeping her calves on his shoulders and nuzzling against them as he thrust. They felt so soft under his phalanges, against his cheekbone-

His eyelights stayed on her as he panted for breath, thrusting into her rhythmically. He could feel her hands grabbing and twisting around his shorts, trying to pull him into her as her hips gave little bucks trying to meet his. 

fuck... 

She was so cute- the socks were adorable, and they made her look even cuter… 

His tongue reached out and traced over her calf, making him grunt as she clenched around him. “oh, sweetheart,” he groaned softly, nipping at her calf. 

A noise escaped (Y/n), but she tried to swallow it, trying to keep quiet as he sped up. 

Sans gripped her thighs tightly, pushing into her faster and faster, his pointed teeth digging into her sock covered calf, his tongue brushing over it. 

(Y/n) gasped, her mouth dropped open as she tried to stay quiet, her body bouncing as he pushed into her harder. 

“fuck, sweetheart- ya squeezin’ ‘round me like that- ya like what ‘m doin’ ta ya?” He asked, watching her face. 

(Y/n) nodded, her hand tightening in the fabric of his shorts. 

“yeah?”

She nodded again as she gasped for air, trying desperately not to make noise to piss off the other skeleton in the house, starting to get light headed at how much oxygen she was taking in. 

“nnn, fuck- y’re so sweet, sweetheart,” he told her, gulping in air as he tightened his hands, holding her steady as he pounded into her. 

She was going to have bruises there, though it couldn’t seem to matter to her mind. He was hitting every perfect place inside her- it felt so good- he felt so perfect inside her- every spot lighting up with pleasure- so amazing- 

And then he bit her calf again, his tongue trailing over the sock that made her seem even more adorable and sweet. 

“Ungh-” (Y/n) squeaked, holding back the other noises as she came, her body tightening and pulsing around Sans as she softly moaned his name. 

“uuuuuuugh, sweetheart- tha’s right, come fer me- nnn- ya feel s’good- fuck- fuckfuckfuck-!” He growled out as he fell over the edge and followed her into bliss, his jaw clenched tight to keep quiet. He didn’t need his brother bursting in and ruining the mood. 

As they came down, Sans leaned forward and kissed her, his tongue and teeth moving with her mouth, small noises leaving them both. 

Sans chuckled after a moment, his hands squeezing her ass with her legs now wrapped around him. 

“What’s so funny?” She asked, watching his face. 

“nothin’, i jus’ feel bad fer humans ’s all. any guy who doesn’t get ta feel ‘is girl keep pullin’ at ‘im like this, really. can’t ‘magine. jus’ feels so good. c’mere, sweetness,” he coaxed, though he was the one who did all the work of wrapping his arms around her and rolling so that she was again on top of him before he gave a content sigh. 

“Their loss,” (Y/n) murmured back with a chuckle of her own. 

They started drifting off, but (Y/n) would swear she heard Sans say, “‘m glad i found ya… some a th’ best luck in my life…”

 A/N: Uh... In case it wasn't clear... Yes, Sans was thinking of pressing Sweetheart's calves together and fucking the space between near her knees... um... while she was wearing the socks... I- I don't know... I was going to have him just think about licking or nipping, but, in the moment that's what came out instead... Sans does what he wants when I write, apparently... Sans: damn straight i do, doll!

#underfell sans x reader #uf!sans x you #red x reader #underfrick #underfluff #tsundere sans #reader insert #mutual pining #y/n #angst #romance #fluff #Smut

[himbodad]

Answer 17 Questions, Tag 17 People 

Tagged by @moon-jellie and @gender-void-partially-stars! iconic of you

Nickname: oh i have a few nicknames that only one person is allowed to call me but i’m Magnus/Judas!

Zodiac: Scorpio

Height: 5′ 2, unfortunately

Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw but also i will fistfight jkr behind a dennys

Last thing I googled: “bang bamg lyrics green day” because i can’t spell

Song stuck in my head: right now it’s suburbia overture/greetings from marybell township!/(vampire) culture/love me, normally (yes this is all one title. will wood is a madlad)

Lucky numbers: i don’t have one? but i do have a deep mental lore for each number, and based on those personalities it would be 4

Dream job: writer! or something with history. or a teacher. but those are if i like, can’t be a writer for some reason. i really just want to be a writer hsfdjgfsd

Wearing: black sweatpants, fuzzy socks, hoodie with the cat holding a knife!

Favorite author: adam silvera! or cb lee! and while i technically haven’t read any of aiden thomas’s books yet, i love them and so he’s definitely one of my favs

Favorite instrument: uhhh i play clarinet!

Aesthetic: disgruntled academic/suburban dad/goth older brother

Favorite song: honestly i’ve just been listening to a lot of will wood BUT one non-wwatt song i’ve been vibing with is dread in my heart mothermother!

Favorite animal noise: any animal making noises while dreaming. they are,,,, so content,,,,,

Random: my parent’s have had to tell me multiple times today that i am not allowed to bite my sister when they’re pissing me off

Tagging: (oh god do i know 17 people) @tlking-heads, @tragedianzs, @forgetmemartin, @jonbinary, @priestofberath, @faedemon, @oh-youprettythings, @a81s, @st-iconoclast, @scottishsafehouse, @mossandfrostguy, @endsea aaaaaaaand im gonna stop there (sorry trans tmaserver ppl for this. i know Five people in the world. but this was fun so. <3)

#obviously no pressure to do the ask game @ anyone #magnus answers asks #kinda #magnus posts #ask game

[myouki]

The Day of Japes: Chapter 2

Well, lookie here...

Credits: 

Goth: @nekophy

Palette: @angeutblogo

***

*be-*

Palette's sockets shot open, his hand darting for his phone as the first tone went off. Deftly silencing the alarm, he listened for a moment before smiling to himself.

There was complete silence... perfect.

Scrambling out of bed and easing the door open, he crept into the hallway toward Goth's room. Pressing his skull to the closed door, the skeleton confirmed once more that his roommate was still fast asleep before tiptoeing down the hallway into the kitchen.

Palette had about fifteen minutes before Goth's alarm would go off, so he had to work quickly.

Pulling open the cabinets, he grabbed the sugar canister and salt shaker along with a plastic bag; he dumped the sugar into the bag, replacing the empty canister with salt. After returning the 'sugar' back to the cabinet while hiding the bag, he pulled out the flour along with a spare milk jug he had tucked away in the back. Pouring a generous amount of flour into the jug, he filled it the rest of the way with water, capped it, and shook the contents until it took on a cloudy white consistency akin to milk.

Placing the jug in the fridge, Palette checked the clock on the stove; it showed he had about two minutes left. He wiped off the counter to clean up any evidence of his misdeeds, darting back to his room just as the coffee machine clicked on and slid to a halt in front of his door just as the telltale blare of Goth's alarm signaled the start of the day.

Opening his door and waiting for the thud of footsteps, he audibly shut the door once more and made his way to the bathroom. Goth's door opened as he passed by and Palette let out a convincing yawn, "Good morning."

"Morning...," Goth mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his barely open sockets as he plodded after the taller on his way to the kitchen.

Palette let the sleepy skeleton go by while he snagged a towel from the linen closet, slipping into the bathroom and turning on the shower to heat up while he undressed; the coffee machine took about five minutes to finish brewing, so he would have to be quick if he wanted to see his companion's reaction properly. He stifled a chuckle as he hopped into the shower, imagining what kind of face Goth would make upon taking their first sip of morning coffee; the smaller monster definitely wouldn't expect an April Fool's joke first thing in the morning, so it was guaranteed to catch them off guard.

Lathering up the loofah, Palette hastily scrubbed his body down before stepping under the warm spray, then repeated the process with his face. As he opened his sockets, he caught a glimpse of something black falling toward him a mere second before it landed on his face; the sight of spindly legs in the corner of his vision immediately had him clawing at his face with a panicked yelp.

His movements managed to dislodge what he could now identify as a spider. He backed away rapidly, gasping as his foot slipped against the slick surface of the tub and flailed out his arms in an attempt to catch himself moments before a sharp pain blossomed in his skull as stars lit up his vision.

By now, there were muffled noises coming from behind the bathroom door, but Palette couldn't seem to focus. His skull and ankle were throbbing and he felt a weird combination of hot and cold; he wished the world would stop spinning so he could figure out where the spider went... maybe he landed on it? That would be nice... one less problem to worry about...

"Palette? Did something happen?" Goth called out, a hazy shadow appearing behind the shower curtain.

Palette weakly called out, "I... I fell...?"; his dizziness was getting worse and his body didn't seem to want to cooperate at all, which only made him more anxious as his vision began to tunnel.

The curtain moved and Goth's eye light drifted down to look at him, rapidly contracting as the shocked skeleton shouted, "Oh m- Palette?!"

"'sit bad?" Palette slurred, not liking how tired and achy he was feeling.

"Hold on!" Goth yelled, snatching the towel from the counter and scrambling to turn off the showerhead; they reached into the tub with their left hand, the towel grasped tightly in their right as they began to cry, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen!"

He felt himself being lifted up; the movement sent a wave of vertigo through Palette and his consciousness flickered out before he could even say a word in response.

---

"... and when I came to, I was in a hospital room with a concussion and a sprained ankle," Palette said as he inspected a package of balloons, "you already know the rest".

"So that's what happened," Dream sighed, browsing the various party items on the shelf, "I figured it was a prank gone wrong since he kept saying it was his fault and he was a horrible monster, but you were fine and poor Goth was already such a mess; I felt it would only make things worse if I asked."

"Yeah...," Palette grimaced, remembering how torn up his roommate was about him getting hurt. After the smaller tearfully confessed to taping a fake spider to the bathroom ceiling, every apology was met with reassurance that he wasn't mad; he knew Goth didn't mean any harm and he didn't want their friendship ruined because of a prank gone awry, "Goth got a bath mat for the tub and we both agreed not to use jokes that involved scaring each other after that."

"Then what are you going to use those for?" Dream asked, pointing out the balloons, saran wrap, and tape in his son's basket.

"I'm not popping any of them, if that's what you're asking, "Palette chuckled as he explained, "I'm going to pile up a bunch of balloons in front of the windows, holding them in place with saran wrap to make it look like the apartment's filled with balloons." If he knew Goth, the smaller would probably want to use them for balloon volleyball or something afterward.

Dream nodded in acceptance as they made their way toward the registers, "So what happened with your coffee prank?"

"Oh, Goth caught the flour water since it had a day to settle, but I got him with the salt," the younger skeleton grinned, recalling the disgruntled look on Goth's face, "It was a day late and he couldn't find where I hid the sugar, so I felt bad that he didn't get his usual coffee two days in a row, but he said he considered it karma for the accident."

Paying for the items and saying his goodbyes, Palette headed home to set up his prank while wondering what Goth had planned; since his companion hadn't done anything yet, he guessed they either had something lying in wait at home or they were bringing their prank home with them later tonight.

In all honesty, he was glad for the agreement they made in the hospital that day; after all, April Fools Day is only fun if they can both walk away laughing in the end.

#Poth #Goth #Palette Roller #TDoJ #Short stories? #MyWriting

[jootsmcgoots]

The Bright Side, Chapter 1: Bloom Effect (Abbacchio x GN!Reader) SFW

This was the 2nd fic I wrote, and in a way it was kind of a continuation of my first Abbacchio fic. However, I ended up choosing to make it a gender neutral reader instead of a female reader because I ended up noticing that I never did use pronouns in this fic.

So my rationale was like “Hey if I don’t use pronouns, I may as well make it a GN fic because then anyone can enjoy it.”

However this of course does not exempt anyone from the punnery LMAO

Anyways. I wrote this one because my friends were like “hey wouldn’t it be great if abbacchio were also good at puns because he seems like the sharp type”

and i was like “holy fuck i’d just fall in love with him even more. i’d have to propose on the spot.”

And so I wrote this LOL

This is a two-parter, so I’ll post the second chapter in a hot minute.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Genre: Fluff (with a pinch of spice)

Word count:  1962

Summary: Abbacchio constantly calls your jokes stupid, but it turns out he has a talent for them too.

And really, when your (overly serious) significant other can rattle out some real dumb jokes at the same rate (if not faster than) you do, how can you NOT fall deeper in love with them?

Chapters: 1 / 2

Chapter 1: Bloom Effect

AO3 Link!

“Leo---”

“No.”

“But I haven’t ev---”

“No.”

The two of you had been laying together on your shared bed. Set to a low volume, music was playing on the radio in the background as you both just enjoyed your day together, no missions or any gang business going on. You had been propped up against Abbacchio’s chest and idly reading a book and just enjoying his quiet company while he would occasionally read over your shoulder and make a comment about the story, prompting some conversation before you both settled back into reading quietly. You both liked it like this; even if you were the more talkative and outgoing of the two, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy quiet time, especially when it was with him.

But of course, that didn’t stop you from being a little shit with him. Like the joke you had just made about him “taking a page from your book” (which earned a groan), and then telling him you knew he’d react like that because you could “read him like a book” (which in turn elicited a disgruntled “Really?” while you snickered in amusement).

After he had cut you off for the second time, you made a pouting noise and puffed your cheeks out as you rolled onto your stomach to face him. “You’re no fun.” You said that, but it was no secret that you loved his reactions (after all, why would you bother him so often?), as your face displayed a sunny, shit-eating grin.

“And you’re always so grumpy,” you added. At that, you sat up and began to poke at his face, using your index fingers to push the corners of his lips into a forced smile, pressing his cheeks higher up on his face. “Lighten up!” You giggled at the sight of his mouth being pulled into such an exaggeratedly happy expression, while his eyes and brow both communicated sullen annoyance. If it had been anyone else, Abbacchio may have swatted their fingers off of his face, much less even let them touch him like this. For you, he tolerated the gesture.

And anyways, it was no secret that he loved your smile.

He took your wrists into his hands and removed your fingers from his face. “I can be plenty of fun,” he replied in that gruff tone of his. “It’s just that your jokes are always so stupid.”

“You love them.”

“I don’t.”

“You love me.”

He removed his hands from your wrists and into your hands, holding them gently.

“I do.”

You flushed slightly and chuckled fondly as you settled fully onto his lap. “I knew it.”

“Don’t push it.”

But now he was smiling, even if just a tiny bit, and you knew you had won. You laughed softly and pressed your forehead against his. Abbacchio closed his eyes into the gesture, a more prominent smile forming on his features. You lifted away from his forehead, then leaned back in to press a little kiss to his cheek once, then twice. Moving from his cheek, you gave him a peck on his nose that earned you a pleased hum. Then, slowly, your lips captured his in a gentle kiss that he reciprocated with a contented sigh that was so soft that you almost didn’t notice it.

Once you separated from him, you couldn’t help but give him a small but cheeky smile. “Even so, you really could stand to lighten up, you know…” you said, trying to get a rise out of him. “You’re still such a grump.” You pressed another kiss to his cheek. “But don’t worry. I still love you.”

Abbacchio ‘hmph’-ed before locking eyes with you. You blinked and chuckled, tilting your head at him. “What? You gonna throw me somewhere again?”

He shook his head ‘no’. Instead, he gathered up the crumpled blanket from the foot of the bed and tossed it onto you as you squawked in surprise as you were suddenly enveloped in cotton and down. “My apologies for being such a wet blanket.”

You blinked from underneath the blanket. Did Abbacchio make…a pun? Peeking your head out from underneath your soft and downy prison, disbelief painted your features as you blinked a couple of more times before starting to smile widely. The grin on Abbacchio’s face was smug, quite gratified that he had managed to shut you up.

“Best cover up your mouth, amore. You’ll let flies in.” He punctuated his point by bringing up a corner of the blanket over your mouth.

“Ha! Haha! Oh my God!” You practically jumped up and squealed in delight, pulling the blanket around your shoulders. “That’s hilarious! I had no idea you were capable of such punnery! Leone! Holy shit!” Giggling, you clapped your hands in pure mirth as you began to sit up on your knees.

Abbacchio quirked his eyebrow at you, expression neutral again, and said in a completely serious and even tone, “Don’t you mean holy sheet?”

If you had thought it was impossible for your expression to become even more shocked (while still entirely delighted), you were quickly proven wrong as you felt your mouth gape further. “Pff! Hehe…! Ahaha!” You had thrown your head back and started laughing uncontrollably, feeling tears forming in your eyes. At this point, your stomach had hurt from all the laughing and you doubled over with a soft thump onto the bed, still rolling around and convulsing with laughter.

You weren’t quite sure what was funnier: the fact that Abbacchio was delivering these jokes with the same solemn expressions he wore during meetings or mission briefings, the speed at which he came up with these puns, or the very fact that it was Leone Abbacchio, big angry serious goth man with a stick up his ass so big that it may as well have been a tree, making silly, stupid puns with you.

And God did you love him all the more for it.

Once you had caught your breath and wiped the tears from your eyes, you peered up at him from your laying position, the blanket snugly wrapped around you. “Whew…haha! I can’t believe you came up with those so quickly! That was great! You’re just great! I swear, I find something about you that makes me love you more and more every day.” A realization seemed to cross your face as you looked up at him with what seemed like reverence. “Oh man, Leone, I love you. Aha! Holy shit, I love you so much! Did you know that?” You gave a breathy kind of laugh as you rolled onto your side. “Let me show you just how much! If you know what I mean.” You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively at him and proceeded to wiggle around in the blanket, having entrapped yourself further during your fits of laughter. “Just. Just gimme a second.”

Your advances made Abbacchio snort out a short laugh that he couldn’t repress. You weren’t really the definition of “sultry” and “seductive” at the moment, all rolled up in a blanket like a human burrito. It would be the first time he was ever propositioned by what looked like a sentient cannolo. One that threw him bedroom eyes and looked at him like he was the answer to all of life’s questions and beheld him as such.

Your boyfriend just watched you as you tried to worm your way out of the blankets and your pants simultaneously. He was about to comment that it might be easier if you tackled one problem at a time, but by then you had managed to roll right off of the bed and you hit the ground with a muted thump and an “oof!” that was soon followed by some startled laughter.

He shook his head at the sight and sighed out, “You’re such an idiot. How you made it this long is beyond me.” Resting his elbow on his knee and bringing his knuckles against his lips, Abbacchio remained sitting on the bed as he observed you trying to recollect yourself, struggling a bit on the floor to no avail. Though he knew you were too busy fighting the blanket to see him properly, he still chose to hide the rather large grin and fast-growing blush that was forming on his face. At your ungraceful but earnest outburst of love, his heart swelled in a way that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He could feel not only his cheeks but also his ears burning up with a flush that betrayed his attempts to bite back the sappy and equally-in-love grin on his face.

Leone Abbacchio’s heart did not flutter or other silly things like that; he was no longer some inexperienced greenhorn, no longer a bright-eyed young man with glittering eyes. No, he was a grown man, hardened and embittered by the darkness in the world around him, dammit! There was no way he was feeling like a schoolboy who had received his first love letter! And yet here he was, with his heart pounding against his chest at a thunderous tempo that was absolutely impossible to ignore and a warmth that was so hot and bright that he felt like he was going to explode from sheer happiness.

You loved him. You loved him to the point of bursting. He could hear it in the unspoken quality of your words, see it in the flashes of light in your eyes, and felt it from the bottom of his heart in the upward curve of your smile.

A deeper, buried part of Abbacchio hoped you knew that he loved you that much too. Maybe even more so. He really, really hoped you knew. For now, though…

“There! I’m---WHOA!” The moment you freed yourself from your fleecy confines, you found yourself entangled in yet another set of confines. Abbacchio had gotten to his feet and hoisted you up and into his arms. Finding yourself underneath his intense stare and suddenly so close, you squirmed a little as a familiar heat stirred within you. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to this sort of closeness; he just had a look on his face like he was ready to devour you whole.

As if to make good on your assessment, Abbacchio caught your lips in a kiss that started out chaste enough before it began to deepen, a sweep of his tongue over yours turning the words on your lips into soft, unintentional moans. He pulled back to look into your eyes, now half-lidded and entranced, and smiled at you with a vulnerability he reserved only for a select few.

And then he dropped you back onto the bed. A noise of surprise left your mouth as you landed on the mattress, bouncing slightly. Regaining your bearings, you chuckled, “And here I thought you were going to throw me anywhere today.”

“I didn’t throw you this time.”

You rolled your eyes and were about to retort, when you were greeted with the sight of Abbacchio pulling his shirt off of himself. As his long hair fell back into place, you drew a breath at the sight of the silver threads settling over his toned shoulders and chest. Light filtering in from the crack in the curtains made him seem all the more ethereal and mesmerizing to you in this moment. Catching you staring, Abbacchio smirked in a way that seemed equal parts loving and wolfish. “Well, cara? Weren’t you going to show me just how much you love me?”

Your blinked, his words calling you back into the very beautiful reality in front of you, and then you grinned widely at him. Bringing your hand to your forehead in a mock salute, you chirped eagerly, “Si, signore!”

#niko writes #my writing #my fic #my fanfiction #fluff #fluffy #sfw #reader insert #gn pronouns #leone abbacchio #vento aureo #pinch of spice #suggestive #slightly suggestive #punnery #puns #god we just got puns up the butt today yall

[myownpersonaldemons]

*breathes in* goth reader (who is lowkey a e girl and looks like she could’ve been in the underground the whole time) meets uf grillby. Go crazy with this one darling like go fuck wild with the prompt. Go apeshit. :)

So, I’m an old lady, and I had to figure out what an e-girl was because yo, I had no idea. I’ve heard it before but never actually understood what it meant. So it took a bit before I actually could write this because I had to do *adjusts glasses* research.

By research, I meant googling it and still being confused so I asked my tumblr followers and someone explained it so I accepted that term as the One.

Anyways! Prompt away! Goth(lowkey e-girl) Reader meeting UF!Grillbz.

Heads up, there is some mature themes to this. As in, Reader works at a sex shop. So, be aware. (because you said go wild I was like ‘what’s a wild way to meet someone for the first time? a sex shop. yes perfect got it let’s go.’)

You hummed softly as you scrolled through the comments on your newest Instagram post. You’d started doing OOTD’s because a couple people who followed you on other social media websites begged you too.Though, you had to admit that a lot of the comments were validating as fuck. A couple of people asked where you got specific pieces of clothing, so you answered honestly.

Honestly, once you saw the goth aesthetic you were all over it…and when e-girl aesthetic became a thing you were all over that as well. There was just something about it that felt…right. You looked great, and you didn’t mind people staring at you as much as you might’ve at one point.

Plus, ever since the monsters came to the surface,  there was an explosion of alt-clothing available everywhere and it was beautiful. You could actually find new pieces at your local clothing stores instead of needing to order online and pay the hefty shipping fees.

The bell on the door rang and you locked your phone and tucked it back into your pocket. As you glanced up you saw two masculine looking monsters, but honestly with them you knew to never assume anything.You tried not to assume, especially at your place of work, anything aboutanyone who walked in through the doors. So, you merely smiled, “Hey! Welcome, if you need any help gimme a shout!”

The skeletal monster shrank in his hoodie, making a ‘tch’ sound and proceeded to stare directly at the ground. On the other hand, the monster made entirely of purple flame tilted his head down slightly so you could see his bright white eyes which he winked at you.

You merely kept your smile on because honestly? You were way too used to people flirting with you randomly when they came in.

The two headed off deeper into the store and you waited a bit before moving from behind the counter to start organizing some merchandise.

“tch…no fuckin’ way,” the skeleton’s voice reached your ears as started to front end face all the boxes along the far wall closer to the two monsters. “look, m’tellin’ ya stockings are way fuckin’ hotter than thigh highs.”

“You drink mustard for a beverage, Sans…I do not think your ‘tastes’ are considered viable in anyway,” the fire monster replied back coolly. The skeleton monster, Sans, made a disgruntled noise. “Thigh highs are far superior, and are less likely to tear and be ruined. Quality is sexy.”

Another noise, “what th’ fuck? quality? sorry, forgot your stupid rich ass is into bullshit like ‘cashmere and silk.’” You could hear the distain in the skeletons voice that almost made you snort in response. Instead, you kept your opinions and thoughts to yourself as you continued to hear them banter back and forth. Sans was still avoiding looking at anything while the other perused the merchandise casually.

A purple firey hand picked up one of the boxes near you and began to examine it closely.

“uh, s’cuse me,” Sans said, and it took you a second to realize he was talking to you, but once you did you quickly apologized and asked him if there was something you could help him with. “what d’ya think? stockings or thigh highs?”

You paused, confused as to why you were being asked that. However, when you shifted your weight you were reminded that you were wearing stockings. Ah, was he trying to get you to agree with him? You tilted your head in thought, did you agree with him? Potentially…but you sawstockings as more ‘traditionally sexy’.

“Thigh highs,” you said finally, “because if the girl is wearing a skirt you can see that little strip of thigh between the thigh high and the skirt and that's hot.”

The fire monster, whom you still didn’t know the name of, gestured at you with a dildo. “See, Sans? A woman of culture. Unlike you.”

Working at a sex shop was never a tiresome endeavour, especially when customers use a dildo to emphasize a point before they realized they were in fact holding a phallus shaped object.

Sans tsked, “then why aren’t cha wearing thigh highs insteada stockings?”

You glanced down at your stockings. They were just basic fishnet stockings beneath a black skirt. You returned your gaze to Sans and then shrugged, “cus I thought I looked cute like this today. But, anyways, enough about me!” you waved your hands, “What brings you two in for? Anything I can help you out with?”

The fire monster was already looking at a different dildo, examining it curiously. Sans on the other hand shrank into his hoodie, glaring over at the fire monster. “tch, this asshole’s lookin’ for some shit.”

“You could get something for yourself too,” the fire monster pointed out, placing the dildo back down to pick up a bigger vibrator.

“I can make some suggestions if you’re looking to spice things up in the bedroom together,” you said, and the reaction was instant. The fire monster recoiled visably, and Sans started sputtering, eye sockets wide.

“i!!! ain’t with this asshole!” he said, his accented voice becoming thicker as he took a few steps away from his companion.

“He is my ride here, nothing more,” the fire monster said quickly.

“y-yeah!” Sans added. The two began to insist that they really weren’t together, not letting you get a word in edge wise to apologize for the confusion. You hadn’t meant together as in they were together but just together as in friends shopping together. Of course, you listened in amusement as they basically listed off all the reasons why they totally couldn’t be together to you before falling silent. You basically got to listen to two people roast each other for thirty minutes, progressively finding stupider reasons about why they wouldn’t work together.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume,” you settled for and Grillby, whom you finally figured out his name during their attempt to prove that they weren’t together, nodded stiffly before turning and front end facing a few boxes that you hadn’t gotten to yet. He picked up one of the larger dildos that your store carried and you added, “We also have some beginner ones-“

He gave you a dry look, “I’m not a beginner, I’ve had bigger.”

“didn’t need to know that,” Sans grumbled, covering his face with a hand, “look, grillbz, imma wait for ya outside. this is too fuckin’ weird.”

He strode towards the door quickly, and with a light dingle of the bell was gone. The moment the door shut completely, Grillby placed the dildo back on the shelf. “I’m here only because he spilt mustard on my favourite white shirt. I apologize for taking up your time, though I must admit, I’m glad that such a lovely woman as you is the one working. I haven’t seen many humans dressing like you.”

You would blush but you had stopped taking anyone’s flirts seriously while on shift.  “It’s kind of a niche look for humans,” you admitted, subconsciously tugging at the sleeves of your shirt. “To be honest,it was incredibly hard to find this sort of stuff until Monsters got to thesurface. You all look so awesome, how do you even find this sort of stuff?”

He gave you a thoughtful look at that, “I know a spider who custom makes clothing. A lot of monsters make their own clothing…for obvious reasons. Though…if I am honest, I thought you would have known that by now.”

You rose an eyebrow, “Uh…why?”

That made him pause, then he gestured to your neck, “You have a collar.”

It took a few seconds before it hit you.Oh! Your neighbour explained that monsters wore collars for different purposes. You were wearing a black leather choker with a silver heart on it. “Oh! Uh…no, this is a choker…it’s a fashion thing for humans. There’s no one…I’m not with anyone like that,” you quickly said, hoping you weren’t offending him.

“A woman of your quality and beauty? I’m fucking amazed you don’t have a plethora of people begging to be with you,” he said, eyes slowly raking over your body. “But again, I apologize for taking up your time.”

That compliment did manage to have your cheeks heat up.

“You’re my first customer in thirty minutes,” you admitted with a shrug instead, “Though if you are looking for something I can help you.”

He was silent for a moment before nodding, “I was actually curious about the body safe wax candles?”

“Oh! Those are my favourite, we got some new ones in,” you said happily, leading him over. You spent the next thirty minutes talking to him about the safety and precautions while using the candles, how to use them. It then dissolved into talking about different objects around the store that he was curious about, and he actually ended up purchasing a good amount of products.

He paused before he left and then pulled out a business card and slid it across the counter towards you. It said ‘Grillby’s Bar’ in swirling purple font, along with an address and times on it. 

“If you ever swing by for a drink, I’ll be sure to be as gracious as a host to you as you’ve been to me today,” he said, voice dripping with as much swagger and confidence as someone who had bought a giant purple dragon dildo should have. He said it was to freak out Sans, but when you told him that dildos weren’t returnable (for obvious reasons), he said that he wouldn’t need to.

You raised your eyebrow at him, “You own a bar?”

Grillby smirked, “Best one in town if you ask me.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Says the owner.”

He chuckled before looking at you over his sunglasses, “I have excellent taste, after all.”

“That you do,” you replied, dropping your gaze to his bag, teasingly, “I hope you enjoy yourself!”

Grillby winked at you, “Oh, I will. Though, if you swing by my bar after your finished work tonight, I think my night would be just about made.”

“I’ll think about it,” you replied quickly, and he sauntered out with a wave.

You rolled your eyes but grinned. Maybe you would stop by his bar tonight.

Maybe…you’d switch your stockings for thigh highs.

#Anon Friend #asks #requests #uf!grillby/reader

[jawnjendes]

shawn meets... | sapphire

SUMMARY: in the life of a rockstar, shawn mendes comes across some unique people. sometimes, things stray from the norm. (AU, shawn x every one of my oc’s)(continuation/spin off of goth gf)

AN: it REALLY feels like shawnblr is fuckign dead but yknow what its spooky szn so death is acceptable! speaking of spooky, this is another for @fourtristattoos spooky writing fest! i swear im building up to actual spooky stuff pls bear with me oh and theres more smut in this

***let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist

previous chapter

sapphire’s blog | sapphire’s playlist | masterlist

Shawn was quite open to wearing anything these days. He was also open to wearing nothing, but that photoshoot opportunity hasn't come yet, though. But this pastel pink and white suit was a bit much. Actually, the sparkly silver boots were the tackiest part of this getup. Sure, the entire outfit was worth more than all three of his guitars he'd be using during the performance, but he wasn't exactly looking forward to resembling the Had To Do It To 'Em guy when he took off the pink blazer. According to Tiffany, the birthday girl wanted all party entertainers to be in her signature color.

He still hadn't met Sapphire Venus Lilith. This performance was for her, and she hadn't even attended the meetings for it. She was apparently busy with an old friend… catching up in her bedroom. For two straight days.

The yard was full of partygoers already. Tables with hot pink clothes were displayed with all sorts of snacks and drinks. Servers were going around tending to guests, all in pink bowties of course. There was also a raised, pink metallic throne in the middle of the yard, surrounded by 2 burly security guards. The throne was right in front of the stage that Shawn was going to perform on, so he wouldn't miss Sapphire in the crowd. Music was already booming through the large speakers, a Little Mix song that reminded him of a different time. The bass was shaking the window Shawn was looking out of.

“Fan of myself, I’m stanning myself I love me so much I put my hands on myself”

Tiffany was fixing the cuffs on Shawn’s blazer. Anna was doing last minute touch ups to his hair, which was slicked back. It was similar to the 2019 Met Gala, but instead of bronze streaks, it was silver glitter that was definitely going to be a bitch to wash out.

“You nervous?” Tiffany asked.

“Excited,” Shawn corrected. “I missed playing shows.”

“We need to get you on tour again.” She smiled.

“Gotta make a record first.”

There was a sudden knock on the door, making all three of them jump. Shawn made eye contact with Tiffany, and they both chuckled at the ridiculous response.

Anna went to answer, since the door was locked. “It’s probably Andrew, wondering if you’re ready.” She opened the door, and let out a surprised, “Hello! Hi, come on in!”

Just by the change in her tone, it was safe to say it wasn't Andrew who had knocked. Shawn turned to see who had come in, and was first met with a powerful flowery scent, followed by a tall, petite woman.

“Make way for the G-O-double D-E-S-S I spare no enemies in this dress Uh huh, uh huh”

This woman was blonde, curled princess locks cascading down her shoulders. On top of her head was the largest and most extra looking sparkling tiara Shawn had ever seen in his life, but it suited her. Her face was soft with pretty pink lips and piercing blue eyes. Her petite body was clad in a tiny top made of soft pink bedazzles and equally tiny shorts of the same color. There was no other way to describe her as anything but beautiful. Knock-the-wind-out-of-me, step-on-me-in-your-white-Louboutins beautiful.

She was followed by Kat, who was the polar opposite, color wise. Tight black dress, long dark hair in a high ponytail. Unlike her employer, she was not smiling, nor giving Shawn any attention. She merely typed on her phone in a professional manner, the same look Andrew would have when he was texting important people.

Shawn couldn’t even think about the potential awkward tension he would have with Kat because he was too busy gaping at the blonde. How was one person so powerful already?

“Hello, I’m Sapphire,” she greeted, holding out her hand.

Something possessed Shawn the moment he touched her soft skin, and he bent down to kiss her hand.

That seemed to please her, because she grinned, showing the tiniest dimple in her cheek. “You’re my little singer tonight, aren’t you?”

“That’s me,” he replied, almost losing his voice by how much it softened. He really couldn’t stop looking into those eyes. “Happy birthday!”

“Oh thanks, love. I can’t wait to see what you’re gonna do for me.” She was still holding his hand, squeezing ever so slightly.

Shawn’s cheeks heated up so goddamn fast. There was something in those worse, something sickly sweet and intoxicating. “I, uh, I think you’ll like it. I hope you do.”

Sapphire was still smiling as she turned to look at Kat. Wordlessly, the assistant went to Tiffany and Anna, chatting them in on the evening’s events. Then, Sapphire took Shawn by the collar of his blazer and stepped closer to him, her glossy lips at his ear.

“If I really love your gig,” she whispered, “I may give you something extra.”

And yeah, his pants got tighter. Good thing he was going to be holding a guitar all night.

Sapphire leaned back, smoothing the area she had been clinging to. “If it’s okay with you, of course.”

He cleared his throat, trying to calm his body. “Uh, no yeah. Yeah. Yes. Very okay.”

“Wonderful, darling! I’ll see you out there. Come along, KitKat!”

With that, she turned on her heel and left the room, Kat in tow.

Shawn immediately plopped down in the nearest chair, starstruck. He’s never seen nor heard of this girl ever in his life, and somehow she managed to turn him into putty within the first few minutes of meeting him.

“You need anything?” Tiffany asked, trying to mask her amusement. “A glass of water? A cold shower perhaps?”

He blushed even more. He’s never been so flustered so fast, let alone from someone he just met.

“Did I say happy birthday to her?” he asked, dazed.

“Yes,” Anna and Tiffany said at the same time.

Then, Brian entered the room, a dopey grin on his face. “Guess who just met the birthday girl!”

“Shawn did,” Tiffany answered.

Brian’s grin vanished. “What? Man, I thought I was the first one! She’s so…”

“Yeah,” Shawn agreed. Then he got up and took his friend to the side. “Dude, she wants to meet up after my set.”

“No way.”

“I swear.”

“Didn’t you just hook up with her assistant?” Brian asked. “You’d think she caught wind of that.”

Shawn didn’t know, nor did he really care. “That’s why I need you to hit up the assistant. I don’t know if she’s hung up on me or anything and I don’t wanna take that chance.”

Brian made a noise between a scoff and a laugh. “Full of ourselves, are we?”

“Please?” Shawn asked, bringing his hands together.

“Well, what if I want Sapphire and not her stuck up assistant?”

This wouldn’t be the first time Shawn asked Brian to distract a former one night stand. But it was the one time Brian wasn’t agreeing to do it. Shawn put his hands down, surprised and mildly annoyed.

“Kat’s not stuck up, trust me,” he said. “And… Sapphire said she wants me. It’s her choice.”

“I’m not taking your leftovers again, man,” Brian said as he folded his arms. “You always get the girl! Let me have something for once!”

Now Shawn was even more annoyed. “Maybe you’d get something too if-”

“If I was a famous popstar? If I was as good as you?”

“Why are you being such a dick?”

Then, Tiffany stepped in, literally. She stood between Shawn and Brian. “Guys, don’t do this. It’s just one girl.”

Brian ignored her. “I’m being a dick because I’m tired of being an extension of you! I’m being a dick because you’ve taken dates from me! You don’t even give a shit about any of them because you can’t get over-”

“Don’t!” Shawn warned, raising his voice.

Brian narrowed his eyes. “You’re not over Annalise Flores!”

“Who?” Tiffany asked, bewildered.

Paralyzed with anger, Shawn glared at the other man. The man who was supposed to be his friend. Why couldn’t he just do him this solid?

“Get out,” he said venomously.

“You know I’m right,” Brian sneered.

“Get the fuck out!” Shawn yelled.

He scoffed as he stormed out. Shawn huffed out a sigh, wanting to punch something.

“What the hell was that?” Anna asked, utterly confused. “Who’s Annalise Flores?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he grumbled. “Can you bring me Jocelyne?”

One quick shoulder rub and a redress later, Shawn’s disgruntled state eased a little bit. It was enough for him to fully focus on the beautiful lady he had to impress.

~

The set went well. It went great, because not long after leaving the stage, Charles the butler found Shawn and led him up to Sapphire’s bedroom. Shawn didn’t get to see much of the party, but that was very, one hundred percent okay.

Most of the mansion's interior was baby pink, but this was an overload. Shawn wandered around the large, pink bedroom as he waited. The walls were made of soft pink felt, and there was a large, sparkling chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The desk against the wall was the same color, along with the laptop and picture frames sat on the surface. The photos in the frames were only of the girl he was waiting for. There was no room for modesty apparently. Shawn was never not going to think of the birthday girl whenever he saw this color.

He went over to the king size bed, draped with the softest velvet covers he's ever felt. The headboard was a metallic pink… with bars. Shawn couldn't deny how exciting that felt. He really couldn't believe someone as breathtakingly attractive as Sapphire could possibly want him.

"Didn't know it was my birthday," he mumbled with a smirk.

"What was that?" a soft, female voice said from behind him.

Shawn jumped as he turned around. There stood the birthday girl, Sapphire, blue eyes wide and expectant.

"Uh, I, I didn't hear you come in," he stammered. Way to keep your cool.

She smiled warmly, fixing the silk robe she was wearing. She was quick to get out of her tight little party outfit, but she still had that sparkly tiara resting on her head. Shawn couldn’t help but notice the perky little nipples poking through the thing material, only adding to the burn in his pants.

Wordlessly, Sapphire moved past Shawn and crawled onto the bed, letting him get a view of her ass. He was about to follow, but her high heel clad foot landed gently on his chest, stopping him.

"Take off your clothes," she ordered, her voice still soft.

Shawn had a feeling he shouldn't challenge her, even though that was something he grew to love and get off on. As he unbuttoned his shirt, he felt his face and chest grow warm; Sapphire's gaze was intimidating, she didn't even blink. She looked at his face, trailing down his body as he removed more of his performance clothes. Her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth as she watched him drop his briefs and step out of them. Shawn felt mildly embarrassed that he was already hard, but just looking at Sapphire's pretty features made him this way. She already possessed him without even doing a single thing.

And somehow, he couldn't tell if she wanted to fuck him or eat him.

"Don't be shy," Sapphire told him as she curled her finger to get him to join her.

She moved to the side and patted the center of the mattress. Shawn crawled onto the surface and lied down against the pillows. The velvet sheets felt incredibly soft against his skin, heightening his senses.

Sapphire traced the butterfly tattoo on his bicep. The tip of her manicured fingernail left a tiny trail of fire on Shawn's skin.

"I'm so glad you were able to sing at my party," she told him. "And I'm glad you stayed."

"Me too," Shawn replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Really, really glad."

"I can tell." She glanced down his body, making him blush.

Shawn really wanted to touch her, feel her, learn what makes her tick. He couldn't wait any longer, and it made him feel incredibly juvenile. He hasn't been so easily wound up since his university days.

"Saph-" he tried to say but a finger went over his lips.

"Shh, I know, baby boy." She leaned in close, her nose touching his ear. "I know what you want." Then she gently cupped his chin and turned his head towards hers. "I just need to know how far you're willing to go."

Shawn could barely hear himself. "As far as you want."

Sapphire's glossy pink lips curved up as she leaned in closer. Shawn closed his eyes, taking in her intoxicating flowery scent, craning his neck in the slightest, and then he felt her lips press the quickest kiss on his cheek.

He didn't even have time to breathe before she was straddling his thighs. Smooth hands went up his torso and rested on his broad shoulders, and she was hovering over him. Shawn lifted his hands to cup her pretty face, but she was much faster than him. Sapphire grabbed his wrists and pinned them down.

"No touching," she told him, her voice still soft and borderline innocent. "Understand?"

Shawn nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

She cupped his chin once again, her blue eyes piercing his brown ones. "Use your words."

"I understand."

"Good boy." She patted his cheek. Then, she moved down his body, to his hard cock.

Breathing out, Shawn braced himself for what was about to happen. His eyes fluttered shut as a soft, warm tongue ran up the length, and then his whole cock was engulfed by her soft mouth. His immediate instinct was to place his hands in Sapphire's hair, but he had to follow her single rule. But she also had a lot of pretty blonde hair, and it was covering her face. Shawn couldn't see her mouth move on him, and he really wanted to.

Just as he lifted his hand, Sapphire sat up again, taking in a breath. She looked Shawn in the eyes as she wiped the corner of her mouth.

"I know you wanna touch me," she muttered. "But you'll have to prove that you're gonna listen to me."

He nodded rapidly, and then she was going down on him again. Shawn breathed out a soft moan at the feeling, his fingers curling around the silk sheets. It felt amazing, way too good to be real. His toes curled as he felt her mouth suction lightly, tingles spreading all throughout his body. Tiny little whimpers came out of him as the tingles persisted, causing Sapphire's blue eyes to flicker up to him as she pulled off once again.

"You are so cute," she said, reaching up to cup his chin. "Most guys don't like to make little noises like that. Keep it up."

He couldn't stop the sounds even if he tried.

Sapphire sat up and turned her body, straddling Shawn's thighs. She pushed her robe back from the bottom, letting the smooth material spread over her partner's torso. Shawn felt his cock on her ass, and resisted the urge to move his hips up. He had to be good, had to do exactly what she said.

"So, what do you prefer, little one?" she asked, moving her ass back and rubbing against his cock. "I'm on the pill, but I have condoms here if you want that."

"Mm, no condom," he answered a little too quickly, feeling the need for relief.

Her head turned, so he could see her perfectly sculpted eyebrow quirk a little bit. Then, she sat up on her knees, taking hold of the base and swiftly sinking down on it. She let out a little hiss, and remained still in that position.

"You oka-" Shawn almost got out before choking on his words.

Sapphire very quickly recovered and started bouncing on him. For a moment, the only sound was their skin slapping together, until she pinched his thigh.

“Where are my little sounds, little one?” she asked between pants.

Shawn found himself blushing yet again. What was with that nickname? What did that say about what she thought of him? He was about to ask, but he saw the back of Sapphire’s robe fall, exposing her skin. She was naked under that little robe, and she wasn’t letting him see anything. It was a tease, and only drove him further, causing a little moan to bubble past his mouth.

“That’s it,” she praised, leaning forward on her hands so as to get better leverage. She was practically twerking on his cock, making him want to grab the plump cheeks.

Obscene noises of their skin slapping and Shawn's moaning filled up the room. Sapphire was incredibly talented with her hips, keeping the rhythm steady, and she didn't stop or slow down. The coil in Shawn's abdomen was tightening more and more every minute, making his heart race and his breath hitch.

He rested his hands behind his head, eyes squeezed shut from the feeling. Fuel to the fire were Sapphire's first sounds of the evening. Shawn picked his head up and noticed her arm moving rhythmically in front of her, and he immediately knew what she was doing. God, he wanted see that, and she probably knew that too. She probably picked this position on purpose.

Even after a shaky orgasm, Shawn was still thinking about the ways he wanted to take her. All the things he wanted to do with her. His body was weak and sweaty, and he was catching his breath while Sapphire fixed her robe and plopped down next to him.

Like Kat, she still looked well put together, like all she did was go for a casual stroll. Not even sweating or panting. Sapphire did all the work and all she did was dab at her leftover lip gloss with her finger afterwards.

Shawn was a little confused at this. Why was he the only fucked out mess here? He lifted a hand, his fingers gently touching Sapphire's blonde locks to get her attention.

"Was that good for you?" he asked.

She nodded with a smile. "You did everything right, babe." Then, she took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, and she lied her head on his chest. "Hell, I might even keep you here a bit longer than planned."

Whatever the fuck that meant, Shawn didn't really give a shit. Looking down at the beautiful socialite in his arms, he realized he wasn't prepared to leave either. And he certainly wasn't thinking of Brian, or his ex-girlfriend.

next chapter

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @justordinaryjen @chillingbythesea @iloveshawnieboi @shawnsunflower @someoneunimportantxx

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut #spookytattoosfestival #shawn x oc #shawn meets fic #if this story sucks its bc i lost motivation #n im tryin to finish it anyway #bc im tired of abandoning fics

[aria-writes]

Good Morning Westchester

So here’s the first oneshot I ever wrote that I’ was actually proud of.

prompt used: my best friend dragged me to a party some of the senior football players are throwing and it’s really boring and the only interesting thing is the boy playing beer pong on the patio

Words: 1631

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in life and death and existence and all that. Maybe there's meaning somewhere out there, or maybe there's not. Maybe the people out there doing yoga at mountainside resorts seeking enlightenment are just fooling themselves and others, wasting their time and money chasing something unattainable.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in THIS FLIPPING PARTY FULL OF HUMANS. HUMANS, I TELL YE.

"Hi, I'm Bill Hearst, and this is my colleague, Tyler Josef."

I pasted a well-practiced smile on my face and tuned the oh-so familiar voice out.

Presenting, the reason why. That's my best friend, we've known each other since diapers. Comes from money, but is actually pretty down-to-earth. Though the line starts to blur between eccentric and just plain nuts.

A goth chick looked me up and down. My pastel dress and matching earrings... and nails... and shoes... and purse... probably don't exactly scream 'Tyler'.

"Uh. Nice to meet you both."

I did my best to smile, but I really don't want to be here. I'd rather be reading. Maybe I can hide in the bathroom?

I banished the thought. Who knows what kind of germs are in there.

By the time I fully returned to the real world, the goth girl had left.

I poked Bill on the arm and frowned.

"Why do you always do this?"

"Because it's fun." Bill grinned at me. "I'm still waiting for the first person to question if that's your real name. Besides, gender blender names are all the rage with white suburban soccer moms now. Blake, Spencer, Ryan, Jackson, Connor, Alexander..."

I crossed my arms and waited for him to finish, but he kept going. "Why do you KNOW this?"

Bill shrugged. "Because I google random stuff instead of studying. Noah, Mason, Kyle, Levi, Maxwell, Evan, Oliver, Sebastian..."

I put my hand up to stop him. "Okay, well, Sebastian is a horrible name to give your child, no matter what gender they are."

Bill swung around me and leaned against the wall.

"First of all, Michael, that's offensive to Sebastians everywhere. Secondly, who doesn't want to share a name with a crab?" He cocked his head to the side. "Or was it a lobster?"

Some drunk girl came out of nowhere, running into the wall right next to me.

"Ariiiiana Graaande? Isss that yooouu?" She slurred, reaching out at me a little too enthusiastically for my liking.

I could hear Bill snickering on my other side.

I took a step back, eyes wide. "Very much no."

"Oh." She looked disappointed, then wandered off in a haze.

I shook my head and looked around at the few people milling about.

"This place is so dead. Aren't teen parties supposed to be all, all night rages and burning down houses?"

Bill adjusted his vest and gave me a funny look.

"Don't believe everything you hear. Maybe we should get you somewhere less flammable."

I sighed and leaned against the wall, rolling my shoulders back.

"Is it too much to ask—"

Bill shook his head slightly, cutting me off.

"I am an extrovert, Phineas Taylor, and this may be hard for you to understand, but if I don't get human interaction, I can and will die." He stared at me with complete seriousness.

I furrowed my brows. "...Uh huh."

Bill sighed and tugged at the cuff of his sleeve. "They have a patio? But you have to promise you won't throw yourself into the pool or something crazy like that."

I leaned forward and shook his hand with a little too much enthusiasm. "Deal. Besides, you're more likely to do that than I am."

We weaved around two people arguing about something that had to do with the budget of the student government. I don't understand how people get so invested in this stuff, but okay.

I closed my eyes and leaned out over the balcony as we stepped into the fresh air. "Ah, peace and qu—"

"THIS IS NOT LIKE WII POOL AT ALL!" A high-pitched, but still decidedly male voice yelled.

I raised my head and stared out over the balcony like I was looking into a camera on The Office.

Bill laughed at my disgruntled expression. "You're the only who was complaining about it being boring a few minutes ago!"

"Well, I didn't mean... this!" I whisper-shouted and gestured over to a table surrounded by loud teenage boys. Are there any other kind?

Bill elbowed me. "That would be beer pong, my young sheltered friend."

I rolled my eyes.

"Never mind, that's it. Sorry, but I'm jumping in the—" I was about to head down the stairs of the balcony when something caught my eye. Blonde curly hair, greenish eyes (as far as I can tell from here), and a dazzling smile.

Oh no, he's hot.

I was probably staring for ten minutes straight.

"If you're really bored, we can head out." Bill's voice startled me and jolted me out of my thoughts.

"I, uh, wuh?" I stuttered, pulling my eyes away and trying to appear unfazed. "I mean, nah, I can stay."

Bill saw right through that.

"Finally found something that piqued your interest, eh? Or someone?"

He followed my gaze over to where Blondie was receiving instructions from a slightly confused redhead. "Aha." He pushed off the balcony and started walking over to them.

I eyed him suspiciously. "Where are you going, Liam?"

"WOO! AND THAT'S HOW IT'S DONE, SON!" Blondie pumped his fists into his air and danced around in a small circle, whacking his hip against the table in the process. "Ow!"

Bill waved me off. "Don't you trust me?"

Red rolled his eyes. "I'm a year older than—"

Blondie grabbed his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. "Shut up and eat in the moment."

I blinked a few times. "...no? Not really? Willy-Billy, you get back here or I'm going to call you even more embarrassing nicknames for the rest of your life—" I looked to my left and my right, then inched closer.

Red reached up and slowly pushed Blondie's hands off his arms. "It's 'drink in the moment', Race."

Blondie shrugged, seemingly undeterred. "I've heard it both ways."

Red pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "No you haven't."

Bill finally reached the table, grabbing Blondie and Red's attention. I'm too far away to hear what's being said over the general noise. What the heck does he think he's—

Blondie looked over at me and we made eye contact. I felt my face flush as he grinned at me.

Wait just a clock tick, is he moving towards me?

Wait, no, what do I do? What do I say? 'Hi, I want your babies'? Absolutely not. Not that. It's probably too late to run and pretend like I didn't see him, but I'm just standing here frozen. At least I know I won't pass out because you have to have a drop in your blood pressure to faint, and mine has definitely risen. That's not helpful, me! I don't need your useless paramedical facts!

Blondie shoved his hands in his pockets as he approached me.

"So, Halo, right?" Even his voice is drop dead gorgeous, if that makes any sense.

"Guh?" I blinked dumbly.

The only good thing about me currently being rooted to the spot is, I don't think I'm going to fall over at least?

"Your friend said that was your name, Halo, like the angel..." He gestured above his head with a small smile.

...Bill, I am going to murder you.

I scoffed in disbelief and shook my head.

"Yeah, not exactly. He never calls me by my real name, though. I should be glad it wasn't anything embarrassing like 'Princess'." I unconsciously picked at the skin at the edges of my fingernails.

Blondie smiled and leaned forward.

"Eh, I get that. I don't go by my real name, either. Everyone calls me Race. Pleasure to meet you."

You know what? He looks like a male version of Rapunzel. Be still, my heart.

I reminded myself to keep breathing. I tried to lean against the balcony and, I dunno, look cool I guess, but I missed and almost fell over.

I felt my heart leap into my throat as I frantically regained my balance.

"Bwuh— I mean, you too. I mean, me too. I mean, the pleasure is all mine and... Is that short for Eraser?"

Race glanced down and snorted, smirking. "That's a new one. No, it's Racetrack. Racetrack Higgins." He took my hand, lips brushing against my knuckles.

Wow. I'm an idiot. Also, I can feel my whole face going red. Error 404 gateway timeout—

"Oh. Sorry." I clenched and unclenched my free hand in an effort to release tension any way I could.

"You can call me anything you want, doll. Oh, speaking of which," He pressed a slip of paper into my palm and winked. "Call me sometime, hm?"

Have you ever seen someone so beautiful you just started crying? I know it sounds weird, but this one time—

I bit my lip and shifted my weight from one side to the other. "Yeah, um, I will."

"Cool." Blondie– I mean Race– did finger guns at me. "See you around." He headed back in Red's direction.

I smiled, awestruck, then turned and walked away in a bit of a daze. What just happened?

I walked right into Bill.

"Yo, Eminem. What can I say except you're welcome?" He did ridiculous jazz hands, which made me laugh despite everything else.

"Shut up, Billiam. But thanks, I guess." I glanced down at my hand, still smiling. Maybe this whole 'socializing with other human beings' thing wasn't completely awful and pointless after all.

#Aria writes #first person POV #unnamed protag #because second person weirds me out for some reason #but if thats what yall want ill totally do it for ya #racetrack higgins #racetrack newsies #race x reader #racetrack higgins x reader #newsies fanfiction #bill hearst #bill newsies #livesies #newsies fic #amazing race #how sweet the sight #that taught mine eyes #toooo seeeeeee #got a little carried away there #sorry not sorry

[greensconnor]

tell me about your ilitw mc for the mc ask game

miles griffinshoodie you literally deserve the WORLD for this tae is my favourite and i would die for you

ilitw mc: tae myoung

how tall are they?

tae is the shortest of my male mcs at 5′6″ please press f for him

how do they tend to dress?

wears a lot of dark colours, as a sort of post-emo aesthetic, like he’s trying to reach toward aesthetically goth but he hasn’t quite made it because you can pry his old my chemical romance shirts from his cold, dead hands and if janefield couldn’t kill him what CAN? he loves hoodies and big jackets and funky t-shirts, plus he likes to accessorize with weird things to make the outfit look more interesting (has used a bike lock as a belt once). he also LOVES painting his nails and usually does them to match whatever colour he’s dyed his hair (orange in it lives beneath) + he has like. a bunch of ear piercings and a nose ring.

do they like how they look?

yeah! he used to be a bit self-conscious of it in high school but when cody and jocelyn started bullying him he sort of leaned into it out of spite

are they an only child or do they have any siblings?

he’s an only child! his parents are really hard working and didn’t really have enough time for another child, but he has a good relationship with them even if they’re a little bit distant at times.

are they a morning person or night owl?

night owl, but only because he’s had trouble sleeping after jane’s accident. he was never really a morning person anyway, but now his sleep schedule is all kinds of fucked up and he tends to sleep in late because he goes to bed at such odd times.

are they a cat person or a dog person?

both and you can and will not make him choose, but since he actually owns a cat right now he leans more toward cat person (that doesn’t mean when hilda comes barreling toward him full force he’s disgruntled. he welcomes his death by fluffy slobber takedown with open arms and a grin upon his face)

got any favourite foods?

got drunk once and texted connor about how he could literally live on dumplings forever ahskshs. honestly he loves anything in that vein, no matter where it comes from; if it’s dough stuffed with assorted meats and veges he’s going feral for it. he also LOVES bread. his favourite type is ciabatta but to help with his depression he started making his own bread and he loves baking loaves for his friends!

how about favourite drinks?

pussy energy drink™ 

what are their favourite movies/tv shows?

tae’s a big fan of animated cartoons! he still loves invader zim for the nostalgia factor, and he’s big on things like star wars: the clone wars and the avatar series. he has selective taste in anime by which i mean he’s only watched the classics like naruto and sailor moon. he also loves the original sabrina the teenage witch series, loves buffy, and his favourite movie is everything is illuminated!

do they have any hidden talents?

apparently monster fighting is one but aside from that tae is a pretty decent artist, although he just draws as a hobby!

do they believe in love at first sight?

not really! tae thinks you have to get to know someone before you can really love them as a person, but he thinks there’s definitely a word for an immediate interest or connection with someone, just not love.

who is their love interest?

connor green, for whomst the blog is named ahsksdhs. tae went through the Gay Experience of having crushes on his friends and on his friends siblings, but connor was the one that sort of stuck the longest because of the time he broke cody’s nose. connor is a lot more stable and less traumatized than the others, and he’s kind of the rock that tae needs, plus they’re just snarky little shits to each other constantly but at least their music tastes don’t clash!

what are they afraid of?

tae struggles with being in darkness after the janefield incident, and he tends to get spooked pretty easily by loud noises, but a lot of his fears stem from his ptsd, especially his fear of spiders since he was never afraid of them before the incident.

what are their guilty pleasures?

he really likes 80′s cartoons that are kind of. bad. like transformers, the original voltron & she-ra series, etc etc. he also LOVES knight rider even if it’s a little cringy now.

what was their dream job as a kid? is it still their dream? 

when he was a kid, tae wanted to be an olympic gymnast! unfortunately he had an accident that messed up his wrist too much for him to be able to compete when he was a bit younger, but his secondary gene was always to be an archaeologist which is what he’s at uni working toward at the end of ilitw!

have they ever broken a bone?

yes! i mentioned he broke his wrist, and he’s also had a bad ankle sprain, a collarbone fracture and a leg break, mostly from him being kind of stupid and reckless as a kid.

have they ever been in trouble with the law?

not really? he’s had like. one speeding ticket in his life but he does dumb things he’s just too smart to get caught

+ three other random facts about them!

he’s a scorpio so he was 17 for most of the events of ilitw, he named his pet crow odin and his cat is named salem, and his favourite item of clothing is connor’s leather jacket which he steals, CONSTANTLY.

ask me about my choices mcs!

#sol.txt #answered #it lives in the woods #ilitw #mc: tae myoung #thank u so much for the ask miles! #javisfreckles

[goldensunflowers98]

Aurelie: Chapter One (Luke Hemmings AU)

Nestled in the small corner of the wood just off Primrose Path and by a constant, babbling brook sat Aurelie Stone's cottage. With the drive lined with cobblestones, the walls covered in ivy, and just off the outskirts of her small village, it was quiet there with only the sounds of the tiny, woodland animals and nature callings being her friends. She was content with that; the lack of human interaction. She only needed the quick chat with the bakers downtown when she waltzed inside to pick up her favorite bread flour for the week and that was it. She enjoyed being secluded, her only daily interchange being with her three year old cat, Clover, and her six month old kitten, Cotton. She wouldn't have moved into the quaint cottage when she turned twenty-three if she didn't. She was used to being alone with her mother being dead and her father making sure he was so swamped with work that he didn't think about his wife's early death. When Aurelie was fourteen, her mother found a lump on her breast and after a trip to the doctor, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was a long and rough battle, lasting over two years, and the already introverted Aurelie sunk further into her shell the day when the heart monitor stopped its repetitive, slow beeps and the final breath escaped her beautiful mother's lungs. She was "the loner" at school, nose always buried in a thick novel in the corner of the library. She sat in the back of class, never raised her hand to answer questions and her face would flush bright pink when she was called on, her blonde hair falling forward to curtain her overwhelmed, blushing face. It got to a point where the teachers didn't even call on her anymore. The jocks, the cheerleaders, the nerds, the band and musical theater kids, and the goths/scene teenagers would walk past her like she didn't exist and she wasn't the least bit upset about it. She actually enjoyed being invisible. She could be in the midst of an angsty teen, mental breakdown and no one would be the wiser. The only person she really spoke to high school was the librarian, Mr. Hopper. He was an older gentleman with a warm, relaxing tone that reminded her of her grandfather and had a head full of snow white hair. He lived on a farm just off the village and adored dear Aurelie, the only student that would come in to visit the library when they didn't have a school assignment making them do so. So, when she graduated college and didn't want to stay home with an absent father, she jumped at the chance when Mr. Hopper told her about the small cottage at the end of his land. With being so quiet and secluded, rumors were ought to start pouring from the bored, young adults mouths. She laughed at the one where people thought she was a thousand year old witch who lived off the blood of children to stay young and she found the rumor that she killed her own mother to be despicable. She never let them bother her though and she took a job at the local veterinary clinic as the secretary. She didn't need to speak much as just handed a clipboard with paperwork for patient's owners and the animals didn't mind her silence as long as they got belly rubs and ear scratches in the meantime. She was happy with her quiet life, lonely at times, but she never was able to give into the urge to go out. So, in her spare time, she baked pies from the fruit trees and shrubs around her little home, gardened and pruned her flowers, or read a good novel with a cup of piping hot earl grey tea - with just a hint cream and sugar - in her hands. She also enjoyed taking long strolls along the towering garden walls that were littered with pink, climbing roses and she had to stand on her tiptoes to see over them and get a glance at the Hopper's farmhouse way across the fields. The way the sun glinted off the old window panes giving a golden haze and how the bright red shutters contrasted the white washed picket fence was breathtaking. Her small cottage could never compare to the dreamy farmhouse across the way. Now, she stood at her small stove, two fresh eggs straight from Mr. Hopper's chicken coop cooked slowly in the pan in front of her. Two slices of bacon sizzled in another skillet next to it while a piece of bread toasted nearby. She wipes her hand on her white apron as her baby blue skirt brushes across her ankles as she moves. Her golden blonde tresses are halfway pulled back in a lazy braid with the rest laying limp against her shoulders and her silky, white blouse feels soft against her skin. Hearing the toast spring out from its fiery confines, she hums as she picks it out with the tips of her fingers and smoothes butter over the top of it. With a tiny, disgruntled noise in the back of her throat, she makes a mental note that this was the last of her bread and she needed to make her weekly trip to the village bakery for her favorite bread flour. Finishing up her cooking, she is quick to scarf it all down, her stomach now full and content. With a quiet slurp, she finishes her morning tea and lets out a long sigh as she places the cup against the wooden countertop. Her fingers drum against the wood and with a annoyed sigh, she blows a tendril of hair away from her face. It was her day off and she didn't wish to spend it with other humans in the village, but she did need to eat to live. Feeling something soft circle her ankles, she looks down to see her two cats brushing against her lovingly as if to say, 'good morning, favorite human.' She is about to lean over and pet their soft fur when she suddenly hears a ruckus outside and a melodic whistling outside her window. "What on earth?" she starts to say, heading straight for kitchen screen door. Peering through it, her eyes widen as she spots a boy -well, man- with golden curls on his head, a white cotton shirt, brown trousers, and brown suspenders completing his look. He's tall and lanky, his skin a bit sunburnt, and blonde, coarse hair covers his cheeks and chin, making his baby face look at bit older. He is beautiful, a bit too beautiful to be real, but why is he in her yard and why is he carrying an axe, Aurelie wonders. He looks up when she swings the screen door open with a loud creak and she nearly stumbles when he gives her a glistening white, beaming smile so bright the sun was nearly put to shame. "Hello," he gleams with respectful nod of his head, resting his weight on the axe. "Mr. Hooper said you liked a fire in the fireplace most nights and that you were running low on wood, so I took it upon myself to make sure you had some. Ladies like you don't need to be cold, especially with the chill coming next fortnight." "Oh," her gaze turns towards the growing pile of wood next to her house before turning back to him. "Thank... Um, thank you... I'm sorry," she babbles, shaking her head and tucking her hair behind her ear nervously. "Who are you exactly?" She winces as she knows she sounds quite rude but there was a gorgeous man in her front yard with a sharp axe and she needed some answers. "Oh, right!" He lets out an adorable laugh as he steps forward and reaches his hand out. "Lukas Hemmings at your service." She pauses for a moment, rubbing her sweaty, nervous palm against her skirt before she gingerly reaches out and his large palm overtakes her own. "But, most people just call me Luke." She barely is aware of him speaking as she oddly enjoys the feel of his callused fingers against her own. It's a long moment before she snaps out of it, snatching her hand back quickly as she realizes she was shaking his hand way longer than necessary, but by the smile on his lips, he either didn't notice or was too sweet to say anything. "You know," she looks up at him under her lashes as he begins to speak, amused. "When people tell you their name, it's polite to introduce yourself as well" Her face blanches as he grins boyishly down at her and she bunches up her skirt with her fists. Idiot, she inwardly curses herself. "Aurelie," she chokes out. "Aurelie Stone." "Well, it is a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss. Stone," he says as her eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What do you mean finally meet me?" She says puzzled, her toes curling against the soft grass under her bare feet. "Mr. Hopper speaks of you fondly from time to time. He told me you lived at the cottage, but being his farm hand is a lot of work and time, so I've never been able to introduce myself... I wish I would have come sooner though because you are certainly breathtaking, Miss. Stone." Her mouth drops in a perfect 'o', everything now making sense before she processes his last sentence, her face flushing instantly. "Oh! Well... I'm sorry for disturbing your work," she stumbles backwards and he watches with an amused smirk as she nearly tumbles over her own feet. "Um, thank you for the wood. Okay, alright, I'm leaving now. Bye." She nearly falls as she scrambles into her home, slamming the door behind her. She breathes heavily, overwhelmed with her encounter with the beautiful man, and leans over to take one last look at him through the window. He is laughing to himself amused, shaking his head, before he wipes his sweaty brow and walking back over to the pile of wood. She only watches his back muscles and biceps bulge for a mere second as he swings the axe before she pulls back the curtain, eyes wide. "No man should be that pretty. It's a sin," she mutters to herself as her two cats make their way back over to her. Finding this human interaction to be enough for her today, she decided to go to the bakery tomorrow before work and hides in her house for the rest of the morning. When she hears no more noise from the Greek god outside and the beaming afternoon sun finally sets a bit, she pries open her front door, breathing in the cooler, fresh, afternoon air. With a impish, excited smile, she shuts the door behind her and bunches up her skirt a bit before taking off. She loves the wind breezing through her hair as she runs, her bare feet in the soft, spring grass, and the sweet smell of honeysuckle fills her senses. She follows the babbling creek, her feet hopping from stone to mossy stone, before she finally reaches her destination. If you follow the brook long enough, you'll find the hidden treasure at the end, a brilliant, glistening, blue lake where geese and swans graze the surface elegantly and fish fly out of the water as if to show off. Her feet hit the wooden pier with a loud slap and she twirls a bit as she runs down it. Standing at the edge, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply, loving the way the sun felt on her skin. She loved this lake, her perfect hideaway. No one else really knew about it or didn't bother to show u and she could be finally be alone- "Miss. Stone, what are you doing out here?" Her eyes pop open with a startled squeal and she loses her balance. She tries to catch herself, arms flailing, but the last thing she sees before she plunges into the cool water is a worried Luke Hemmings rushing towards her. So much for being alone. __________ Wow, hello. First of all, I’m not dead. Surprise? I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think! If you’re new, hello! Please feel free to go to my profile and find all my other wrecks of books and maybe you’ll enjoy them? If you’ve been on this journey with me before, hello as well and I’m sorry? I glad you enjoy suffering with me! Enjoy this book and this romance! • I have a oc/story board on my WeHeartIt @/goldensunflowersinherhair under the name “oc: aurelie stone” if you want to check that out! • Favorite thing about this chapter? Anything you would like to see? Let me know! All the love. x -E

#Luke Hemmings #Five Seconds of Summer #5SOS #Luke Hemmings Imagines

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: Captain Cold and Me (chapter 1 of 6)

Sara Lance, unbeknownst to her high school classmates, has connections to some of Star City's most popular super-powered heroes--but no powers of her own. Then the mysterious Captain Cold saves her from an attack…and does his best to convince her that he’s not the bad guy everyone seems to think he is. And maybe not all of the "good guys" should be trusted...

Author's note: This story is a weird amalgamation of things. It started when I saw a book titled "The Supervillain and Me" (check it out!) on the YA shelves at Barnes & Noble. That, of course, gave me CaptainCanary vibes. After I bought and read it, they were even stronger. I posted about that on Tumblr, and people encouraged me to write the CC high school AU I was considering.

So I did! It takes the skeleton of the book (which is very much its own thing-again, read it!)-at least at first-adds some (very adapted) Arrowverse characters and plots, and stirs it up with my own weird imagination. I own nothing of this but my own words, and I make no money off it.

This will be six chapters (all but one already complete), posted one a day until Tuesday. Many thanks to @larielromeniel for the beta, and to @sylvanheather for her thoughts! And happy birthday to @dragonydreams!

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

“Sara! Sara, did you hear?”

Sara Lance closed her eyes in resignation as she heard the footsteps of Felicity Smoak, her best friend, hurrying up behind her in the halls of Star City’s Kanigher-Broome High School. She loved Felicity, she really did, but she knew what was coming here, or suspected at any rate, and she really didn’t want to talk about it.

Felicity, however, was going to tell her anyway.

“Principal Hunter got a special guest for the assembly today,” she said breathlessly, adjusting the strap of her backpack where it was slung over her shoulder, swiping her dark hair with its blond roots out of her face. “Do you know who it is?”

Sara could guess.

“Nope,” she said, however, continuing to stroll toward physics class. “No idea. Fliss, did you finish your lab report yet? I want to ask Dr. Stein…”

“Sa-ra!” Felicity actually stomped her foot. “This is important! Don’t you think it’s probably a super? Should I go fix my hair? Redo my makeup before the assembly? We need to get there early so we can get a seat!”

Felicity had a real thing for supers—and the top team in Star City right now was the Black Canary and the Green Arrow. Sara’s friend had a massive crush on the Arrow (maybe on the Canary too), but she didn’t know what Sara did: That the Black Canary was Sara’s annoying big sister, Laurel, and the Arrow was Laurel’s rich-boy boyfriend, Oliver Queen. 

Sara had known Laurel and all her quirks since birth, and she’d known Ollie for nearly as long as she could remember. It was tough to be awe-inspired by the girl who continually left sopping-wet towels on the bathroom floor or the boy who’d once been so helpless without servants that he’d kept buying new underwear rather than admit he didn’t know how to use the washing machine.

They’d both acquired their powers (for Laurel, a sonic scream, flight and a degree of invulnerability, and for Ollie, perfect aim, a literal inability to miss his mark, in addition to greater strength and agility) at about the same time, a handful of years ago, around their 16th birthdays, just like most supers. While Sara’s parents had made sure Laurel had a chance to learn and become accustomed to her powers, they’d balked at letting her take on the role of a public superhero despite her wishes.

Oliver hadn’t even entertained the notion, as far as Sara knew. He’d happily used his aim to win drinks in darts tournaments at Star City’s (not so) finest bars, and his strength to impress girls who weren’t Laurel.

Until the day everything changed.

It’d been an assassination attempt, everyone said, one that targeted both Commissioner Quentin Lance and Ollie’s mother, Moira Queen, who’d been mayor at the time. A massive earthquake centered on the old City Hall, undeniably unnatural, as it hadn’t affected anything outside a relatively small radius. At first, everyone had suspected a super gone rogue, before investigation had revealed the device detonated by a disgruntled former police officer.

Quentin and Moira had survived. Dinah, Sara and Laurel’s mother, who’d been on her way into the building to meet her husband for lunch, had not. Neither had Tommy Merlyn, Ollie’s best and oldest friend and the son of Moira’s deputy mayor. He’d been sitting on the front steps, waiting for his perpetually late friend to show up.

They didn’t have costumes or names yet, and they wouldn’t go patrolling for a few months. But in many ways, that was the day the Black Canary and the Green Arrow were born.

And then there was Sara, just a few years younger. Sara didn’t have powers. She had a second-degree black belt—about to test for third--but no powers.

It wasn’t good enough. It would never be good enough. Sara sighed. Felicity, unaware of her thoughts, elbowed her.

“Come on!” she said. “Earth to Sara Lance! What do you think?”

“I think I want to skip it,” Sara muttered, shifting her own backpack.

“Skip English class?” Felicity blinked at her. “That’s not like you.”

Apparently, Sara had completely missed the thread of this conversation. She sighed again. “No. Never mind.” She gave her friend a onceover. “You look fine. And we get there early if you want. Just don’t expect me to squeal and wave and go all fangirl with you.”

Felicity grinned and gave her a one-armed hug. “Sara, I just don’t get you at times, but you’re the best.”

“You know it.”

Felicity (and Sara) had guessed right. The Green Arrow in his hood and green leather and Black Canary in her black leather and domino mask had strolled out onto the stage at the assembly, exhorting the students not to bully each other and to stay in school, etc., etc. Sara had rolled her eyes so hard they hurt, while Felicity did indeed squeal and wave and go all fangirl. She was still gushing when the assembly let out, and they headed for what Principal Hunter called the senior Creators Club—and Sara privately called Kanigher-Broome’s catchall hangout for Star City’s young, social and slightly geeky.

Sara’s father didn’t really like her being home on her own any more, not since…since her mother died. He was still concerned that the would-be killer (who had died in prison last year) hadn’t acted alone, and that the whole family could be a target. Quentin not only went armed as part of his commissioner duties, he often had an entourage with him at all times—and Laurel was the Black Canary. Sara was…just Sara. So, to keep her dad happy, she stayed at school a little longer, working on whatever homework or projects came her way, chatting with Felicity and other classmates, pretending things were…normal.

“Did you see? The Green Arrow winked at me, Sara!” Felicity did a little dance step in the corridor on their way toward the senior lounge, dodging students headed in the other direction. “He did! I swear it. Right at me.”

Ollie had probably been winking at Sara. He knew perfectly well that she hated when he and Laurel made appearances at her school. “Mmhmm,” she agreed absently. “That Green Arrow. Quite the flirt.” Ollie was a flirt, or he had been. The Green Arrow was anything but.

“Do you think I should go blond again?” Felicity stopped, facing Sara, wrapping her fingers around a tendril of her hair and holding it out to inspect it critically. “I like the goth-y look,” she commented, starting to turn to head toward the lounge again, “but…oof!”

She collided right with a tall, thin boy, knocking his bag out of his hands and knocking her own glasses off her face. Grasping desperately for them, she grabbed the edges of his worn black jacket instead, the glasses clattering to the floor. The boy reacted with a startled noise and stepped back, tripping over his own bag, making a faint sound of pain as he did so.

Sara stepped forward in concern, reaching out to steady him, even as Felicity stooped and felt around for her glasses. But he caught himself without incident, shaking his head, and Sara stopped wondering if she’d imagined that pained gasp.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

The boy, who had dark, very short hair with what might even be a few glints of premature silver in it, was still looking aside, stooping to reclaim his bag.

“I’m all right,” he said in a low tone as he straightened. “Really. Thanks.”

Felicity gave a cry of victory and stuffed her glasses back on to her face, standing again. ”Sorry!” she told the boy cheerfully, then frowned. “Wait. Do I know you?”

He gave an almost curt shake of his head, looking at Felicity, then finally glancing at Sara. His eyes—an icy blue that was so striking that Sara sucked in a breath--widened, and he turned away abruptly. Sara blinked, watching him duck into the senior lounge. He’d been quite good-lucking, really, she thought. Those cheekbones and eyelashes were totally unfair in addition to those eyes.

“Sara! Sara!”

Felicity would keep Sara-ing her until she responded. With a sigh, she looked at her friend, who was still gaping at the door to the lounge. “What?”

The other girl looked upset, for some reason. “Don’t you know who that was?”

“…no?” The boy had looked vaguely familiar, though everything about him—his hunched shoulders, his downcast eyes—screamed that he didn’t want to be noticed.

“That was Leonard Snart. Snart, Sara!”

The world stopped. “Oh.”

Snart. The son of Lewis Snart, the crooked officer who’d tried to arrange for her dad’s assassination, who’d rocked Star City with the explosion that had killed her mother and so many others. For a moment, Sara couldn’t breathe. The memories were still so strong…the search for survivors, the hunt for suspects, the news that’d trickled out about motives and targets. The trial, which had, mercifully, been extremely brief.

“How do you know?” she asked numbly, stepping to the side to let other seniors by. “I mean. I know he had two kids, a son and daughter. But neither of them went here…before…”

Felicity sighed, running a hand through her hair. Her gaze was sympathetic and troubled.

“Remember that hackerspace thing I was involved with a few years back?” she asked. “Over in the East Side? I ran into him there once or twice. Never talked, barely knew his name. He’s a quiet kid. It took me a minute to recognize him here. He shaved off his curls.” She glanced away. “It’s not like I was going to bring it up after. But…Snart. Sort of a memorable name.”

“Yeah.” Sara stood, frozen, another moment, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like he had anything to do with it. I just…I thought both of them went into foster care in Central. I remember reading…”

She’d once read the articles about the case obsessively, determined to figure out if anything could have saved her mom, could prevent something like that from ever happening again. She’d always wondered if Laurel or Ollie could have, if they’d been using their powers for hero-ing back then. But it was the kind of thing she’d never had the heart to ask.

“I know.” Felicity’s voice was low. She sighed again. “I can’t figure out why he’d even want to come back here.”

“Um. I might know something about that…”

Both of them turned at the sheepish voice behind them. Barry Allen, shuffling his feet, gave them an uncertain grin. Felicity squeaked and put her hands on her hips. She’d dated Barry briefly, but while it hadn’t lasted, they were still friends. And as Sara well knew, withholding information was majorly against the Felicity’s-friend code.

“Spill, Allen,” she said, fiercely enough that Barry paled a little.

“Well, not really the reasons,” he clarified, switching his gaze to Sara, his cheeks a little pink. She smiled despite herself. Barry was such a lovable dork. “But some of the story behind it.”

Felicity folded her arms and fixed him with a glare that was probably supposed to be intimidating, then gave him a regal nod, as if to tell him to carry on with it.

“My dad met him, Snart—uh, Len—in Central City, when he was there doing some, ah, charity work.” Barry continued. Sara remembered that his dad was a doctor, and that his family was originally from Central. “His little sister, she’s happy there, in school, with a good family, but Len wanted to come back here to at least finish school.” He bit his lip. “Dad helped him with the emancipation paperwork. I don’t know where he’s living, but he’s come by our house for dinner once or twice, at my parents’ insistence. Doesn’t talk much.” He sighed. “Be nice to him, OK? He’s had a rough road, but he’s an OK guy. There’s good in him.”

His pleading gaze was on Sara, who really had no intention of holding Leonard Snart responsible for his father’s misdeeds. She nodded, then smirked, deciding to try to lighten the mood a little.

“Aww,” she teased. “Gotta crush on him, Barry? He is really cute.”

Barry blinked, then turned pinker. “What? No! Uh. Not that I have a problem with that.”

Barry and his current girlfriend, Iris West, were currently the leading contenders for most likely to get married right after graduation. It was just a lot of fun to tease him about it.

Felicity got a particularly evil look on her face, but Sara, still smirking, cut back in.

“Of course I’ll be nice to him,” she said, then sobered. “Having a horrible parent doesn’t make him a bad person.” She nibbled her lip a little, thinking. “He’s kinda one of his dad’s victims too, in a way, isn’t he?”

Barry nodded, growing serious himself. “Yeah. I mean…he hated the guy. Hated. It’s not like he’s talked about it, really, but…”

“Join the crowd,” Sara murmured, as Felicity nodded next to her. “No worries, Bar. In fact…”

She shouldered her backpack, took a deep breath, and headed for the lounge. “In fact, I think there’s something I need to do.”

She could hear Barry and Felicity following her, but she ignored them, stopping in the entrance and scanning the room. There. The dark-haired boy was sitting by himself at a table in the far corner, pulling a laptop out of his much-abused bag and opening it on the table. He glanced up as she approached, a flash of something darting over his face, and Sara felt a pang of empathy.

“Hey,” she said as he met her eyes, his own gaze opaque. “I just wanted to say, sorry about my friend. She’s a klutz.” She took a deep breath (ignoring Felicity’s protests behind her), then held out her hand. “I’m Sara Lance.”

The boy—Leonard—held her gaze for a long moment, then stood. He was tall, Sara thought, eying him. And…yeah. Cute. Hot, really. Mm. He didn’t look like a senior in high school. College student, at least.

“Hey,” he said in return, so quietly that she could barely hear him. “It’s OK.” He shrugged. “It was an accident.”

“Your laptop’s all right?” Sara darted a look down at it. It was an old machine, she thought. But that didn’t mean it didn’t mean a lot to him.

“It’s fine.” The corner of his mouth tugged up a little, a tiny little smile, but a smile nonetheless. Sara felt like she’d won a victory. Then he reached out and took her proffered hand.

A firm, calloused grip, one that didn’t back down because she was a girl. Sara liked that. And he didn’t seem to find her gesture overly formal because they were only in high school. His handshake was steady, and so were his eyes, and damn…

“Leonard Snart,” he said so quietly that she could barely hear him.

“Pleased to meet you, Leonard,” she said quietly in return. “Glad you’re OK.”

She’d been pulled away from Leonard nearly immediately, and that was OK too. Felicity had wanted to talk about the physics lab she’d been uninterested in earlier, and then to gush about the Green Arrow and the Black Canary some more. Then Barry and Iris had come over, asking about the upcoming talent show, and she’d gotten distracted again.

When the club hours had ended and they’d all been told to go home, Sara glanced around, but Leonard Snart was already gone. She shook her head, then bade other friends farewell and walked with Felicity toward the parking lot, where the other girl turned to her.

“Do you need a ride home?” Felicity asked, a touch distractedly. “It’s no problem. I can drop you off on the way.”

Felicity drove like a bat out of hell. Sara loved her friend, but she was actually glad to have an excuse not to trust her life to the Fliss-mobile today.

“Nah. My dad is actually home tonight. He wants us all to have dinner together, for once,” she demurred. “Should be here soon.”

Felicity gave her a cheerful wave, then headed toward her old Cobalt, peeling out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires. Sara shook her head, then checked her phone.

Nothing. But after only a few moments, it chimed. Sara, watching the other seniors trickle out one by one, checked it again.

“Sorry, honey,” her dad texted. “Stuck here late. Can Felicity give you a ride?”

Sara bit her lip. Why hadn’t he sent that a few moments ago? But she’d thought that this dinner thing might actually happen. She could text Laurel, but her sister and Ollie almost certainly had something more important going on. Hero-ing and whatnot.

“Sure,” she texted back after a moment. “See you later.”

Then she started for home.

It wasn’t a long walk, really. But with the level of violence in Star City these days, neither her dad nor her sister usually liked her walking home alone, especially not later in the day. Whatever. Sara had a black belt. She could take care of herself. Her grip tightened on her backpack. Right? She’d be fine.

Sara was crossing the railroad tracks just outside the edge of the Glades when she heard the footsteps. Two people, at a guess. Well. People went for walks here too. Probably. She listened, heart beating just a little faster, then scanned the street ahead of her. Stores and other businesses closed down early here these days. Nothing seemed to be open, and traffic was nonexistent.

She picked up the pace, just a little. The footsteps picked up too. And then they were three sets. Four?

Sara abandoned her pretense and ran. There had to be someplace she could duck into, she thought, her own heartbeat echoing in her ears. There had to be!

A male voice behind her called out something in a snarl. Sara didn’t look back, pelting down the uneven sidewalk, scanning the quiet street, wondering if she should yell or...

Someone grabbed her backpack, jerking her to a stop, and Sara kept enough presence of mind to turn fighting. She lashed out at the man with a hand, fingers stiff, jabbing toward his eyes and connecting. He yelped, putting his hands to his face, and she pulled away, turning to run ahead.

But there were two more men there, young and scruffy, thin and looking a bit strung out. Sara didn’t hesitate. She struck out at one’s face, then kicked hard at his kneecap, sending him tumbling to the ground, then rounded on the other, who gaped at her a moment, apparently stunned by her reaction.

Sara drove her foot into his groin without a flicker of sympathy, stepping past him as he folded, drawing a breath to run again. She’d done it, she’d defended herself, she could...

The first man, however, hadn’t been as down for the count as she’d hoped. An arm looped around her neck even as she took a step, pulling her back again, and...damn. Something cold and metal pressed against the skin just under her right ear, something sharp.

“Money!” her captor hissed in her ear, arm tightening. Sara could hear the groans from the other two, interspersed with cursing. She tried to take a deep breath, thinking about what she had in her bag.

“I don’t have any,” she said after a moment. “I don’t! Really. Look!”

“Yeah, right!” The knife pricked harder...but then the man did move it, reaching down toward her bag, and his other arm loosened just a little.

Sara took advantage of it. She stomped on the instep of his foot, hard, then threw an elbow right into his solar plexus when his grip loosened. He crumbled and she turned to run again, taking a step, then two...

“OK, pretty girl, freeze!”

There had been a fourth man. And he had a gun. Which was now pointed right at her head.

Sara froze.

The man was to her right, but she could see him, and the gun, out of the corner of her eye. He held it steady and seemed far more calm and competent than the other men. Which made him far scarier.

For a long moment, he studied her, then let out a snort of laughter. Sara wanted to bristle at the derision...but she didn’t dare move a muscle. Supers were said to have a sixth sense about people in trouble, and while Laurel and Oliver said it was nebulous and impossible to measure, there was a measure of truth to it. Surely one of them would come to her rescue? It would be mortifying...but at this point...

“Someone will pay ransom for you,” the other man said, finally. “Girl like you in a place like this? Someone’s gotta be looking for you.” He chuckled again. It was not a nice chuckle. “Maybe we’ll even give you back. Maybe not.”

Sara took a slow breath. She couldn’t let this man just kidnap her. And she had to move before the other men regrouped. They were all getting to their feet, muttering to each other.

Then there was a noise to her left, a thud as if of someone landing on the ground. A sense of chill. Sara nearly looked, hoping for Laurel or Oliver, but the gun was still pointed at her and...

“Duck—and close your eyes!”

This isn’t the time to look a gift hero in the mouth. Err, something like that. Sara did as she was told, dropping to a knee and squeezing her eyes shut.

The blast of cold came from the left, so close to Sara’s face that she could feel the frost forming on her eyelashes. Somewhere, a corner of her brain registered that was new, that there wasn’t a super with ice powers in Star City, or none that she knew of. (Or that Felicity knew of, which was even more conclusive.) She heard yelps from the men and the crackle of what seemed to be ice, and braced for the crack of a gunshot...but none came. Just more thuds, as if of bodies falling to the ground.

“OK. You can look.”

Sara opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the four men, all stretched out on the ground, all covered by a sheen of frost. A sigh of relief escaped her lips even as she flinched, wondering.

“Are they...”

“They’re just out...cold. You all right?”

Sara looked up.

The figure in front of her, extending a hand to help her up, was no one she’d ever seen before. Black pants, black boots…and then a blue parka over the top, fur-fringed hood pulled up over his head. His face was obscured by a pair of goggles, but a smile tugged at his mouth as he looked at her.

“It’s OK,” he said, keeping the hand extended. “I don’t bite. Unless it’s frostbite. Heh. Maybe that’s a potential name.”

Bad puns. Why did supers love them so much? Sara stared at him long enough that the smile fled, but he kept the hand held out to her.

Male, from the voice. And about her age, also from the voice. Sara frowned, trying to place it, but then took the offered hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“Um,” she said. “Thanks. Really. I thought I had that, but...the gun...”

“I saw. You were badass. I just figured I should help out.” The tone was admiring. And he still had her hand. Sara looked down at it, noting that he also wore black gloves, but the super let go then, taking a step back courteously.

“You’re new,” she said, still a little shell-shocked. “Ice powers. That’s...new.”

“Yeah. Sort of.” The boy...man?...walked over to the four men and studied them. “I’ll alert the cops that they’re here. They’ll thaw out soon enough. We should get going...hey, wait!”

Sara had already turned away and started walking as fast as she could, not quite running. The super caught up to her easily, though, jogging along next to her, glancing her way.

“That was really impressive,” he said. “What...what’s your name?”

This guy, hero or not, was starting to annoy her. Sara frowned at him, although she kept walking.

“I said thank you,” she gritted out. “What do you want?”

“Just making conversation.” He almost sounded hurt. “Hey, like you said, I’m new. Thought maybe...”

“You thought wrong.” Sara took a breath and stopped. “Look. Iceman, or whatever your name is...”

“I think that one’s taken.” The drawl was amused. He smirked at her, an infectious expression, and she almost smirked back. But...she already knew far too much about two of the city’s main supers. She didn’t need, or want, to know any more.

“Thank you,” she said again, trying to project sincerity. “Truly. Now, I have to get home.”

He nodded, but didn’t move, the smirk fading into something more...wistful? Somehow it touched a chord, and Sara studied him a moment longer, intrigued despite herself. Then, cursing her curiosity, she turned and headed down the street.

And that jerk kept following her.

“I could see you home,” he said.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You are fine,” he retorted. “But I can still make sure you get there...”

“Goodbye, Iceman.”

A sigh. Then: “Goodbye, Sara.”

She whipped around, but he was gone already, apparently faded into the trees at the side of the street in one of those near-patented super moves.

Ass. Sara studied the trees, curiosity surging again, then turned and headed home as fast as she could, feeling the irritating sense of someone watching her the entire way. She made it in the door, slamming and locking it behind her, then dropped her backpack on the floor and closed her eyes.

She’d been rescued by the world’s most infuriating superhero.

Par for the course.

#captain cold and me #captain canary #arrowverse #sara lance #leonard snart