#PLA? never heard of her

[readychilledwine]

Cassian who after you two realize you’re pregnant slowly stops doing as much training to spend time with you and your growing body.

Cassian who slowly starts eating the foods you crave so you don’t feel alone in the weird things you’re eating

Cassian who slowly starts getting a “dad bod” towards the end of your pregnancy, still keeping his muscle mass in his arms and legs, his abs are just starting to get a little more full.

Cassian who realizes you’re starting to like the dad bod more than the straight hard ass muscle and after the little babe is boring starts taking more days off of training to stay in his new body shape for you

I'm. Salivating.

Dadbod

Summary - After the pregnancy and birth of your first daughter, you aren't the only one dealing with body changes

Warnings - insecure Cassian, suggestiveness and implied smut, teasing from Rhys and Azriel.

A/N -i want everyone to know what my vision of a "cut dadbod" is. It's Jason Momoa in Aquaman. He's lean, muscular, and cut, but he's not what cassian would typically be of rippling muscles and abs you can wash laundry on. So, I attached a picture of the image that came to mind while reading this 🤤🥴

Your honor, I need him. Sexually.

Cassian sighed loudly as he looked himself over in the mirror. There was no denying he had put on weight with your pregnancy, and especially with the pressures of fatherhood and a newborn, but Mother above you wanted him.

Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as your eyes slightly glazed over, focused in on his strong arms and shoulders, on his chest, his stomach. Yes, cut abs no longer sat exposed all the time, begging to be licked between every ridge, but there was something about how his build now accentuated the v of his hips, how it highlighted his still trim waist without distracting from it.

Your mate was the most attractive male you'd ever laid eyes on. Not Rhys. Not Azriel. Not even the countless high fae you dealt with daily. None of them could hold a candle to Cassian and none ever would.

"I can feel you staring. I know I've gotten out of shape, you can just say it." His voice was laced with sadness. You could feel his disappointment running down the bond as he picked up your daughter, bouncing her as he smiled.

That was the other attractive thing about Cassian. Watching him be a father. Watching him with his daughter. Seeing his excitement over having a little girl. Cassian never expressed disappointment. He never made snide comments about your failure at providing a male, no. Cassian cherished her, his little baby bat, and thanked you for her profusely.

His love for her was part of why he had "Let himself go." He had gone from hours spent on the roof, training the priestess, training with Azriel and Rhys, training Feyre to each group receiving an hour of his time instead of his whole day. He wanted to be with her, not locked on the House of Wind, stuck hearing her small cries as the doorways carried them to him.

"Cassian, you are the sexiest I have ever seen you," you finally answered him, lip going back to your teeth. You wanted him, needed him. You two had not touched each other in so long.

"You don't have to lie, sweetheart. I know I'm not-"

"Stop it," it came out more forcefully than you had wanted. "I like your body. I love the way you look. I still want to fuck you senselessly daily. Just stop."

That conversation had changed everything. Cassian would never admit it, but he enjoyed having his days to himself. He enjoyed only allowing training to ocuppy 3 to 4 hours of his day versus almost 8.

And Gods, he loved how you looked at him now. He loved how much more you two snuggled, how you seemed more comfortable laying your head on his chest.

"Good morning, fuckers." Cassian effortlessly flipped the crepes he had been making for you when he heard Rhys and Azriel sit down at the kitchen island. "What do you want?"

Rhys looked at the unhealthy breakfast, one you constantly craved during pregnancy. "When do you two plan on being back to hard training and dieting?"

He knew Rhys was asking out of curiosity, but Cassian couldn't help but growl, more concerned about Rhys possibly mocking your post pregnancy body more than Cassian's own new dad body.

Azriel's spine straightened at the sound as he shot Rhys a look. "What our brother is trying to say, Cass, is we miss training with you all day on our days off, and we are concerned you are not taking time for yourself anymore."

The look Cassian gave them felt almost like he was attempting to murder them. Like he was warning them of the line they were risking. "My mate needs me and appreciates my help with our daughter. I like my current schedule. When she is older, will I maybe go back to a more training heavy schedule? Possibly. But for now, I am doing what's best for me and my family." And my sex life, he thought silently to himself as images of you riding him last night came to mind.

"We are just concerned, Cassian," Rhys stated softly. "About your growing daddy tummy." His smile broke out as he poked Cassian's abs, eyes widening over still feeling solid muscle below a slight layer of skin. "What the fuck?" Rhys stood, walking over to Cassian. "How are you still so fit?"

"He's fucking perfect, isn't he?" You walked into the room, a small head and wings poking out from the body wrap you were using to carry the daughter you shared with the general. "Delicious."

Azriel chuckled, moving to you to take the babe, but unsure if you meant the crepes or your husband. "As long as you two are happy, that's all that matters. I just was worried about your mental health, Cass. Mother knows your a vain creature that loved his abs more than breathing."

"Or eating."

"Or drinking."

"Or fucking," Rhys and Azriel went on as you moved to Cassian, arms wrapping around his strong biceps.

He looked in the mirror again that night, holding his daughter as he stared at his abs. This current body was a reminder to him of how life had changed, of the growth you two had done, the small life that was now phsyical evidence of the love you two shared. "Dad bod," he finally said. "I'd rather have my dad bod."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

#acotar #acotar x reader #send ideas #send accidental inspiration #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #daddy!cassian x reader #cassian acotar #lord of bloodshed

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter five | part two | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Dr. Gaul is her own warning, Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, mentions of Arachnes' death

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 you meet Dr. Gaul and her snakes with Coryo at your side 🐍

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 here's part two!! Hope y'all enjoy it! Give me your feedback!

beta read by the AWESOME @nowitsmissing

series masterlist | navigation

Classes were dull. He couldn't stop thinking about the morning, Sejanus' tears, and Lucy Gray's smile. It felt like a terrible dream possible when sick. He hates how easily Sejanus will have his girl after Coryo makes sure she wins.

He hates how he will never have you. And another district girl will be brought to riches undeserving or maybe Sejanus will leave with her.

He hates how he sees himself in Sejanus. Sejanus' sobs are so similar to the tantrum Coriolanus had thrown when he was eight. The tears were the same as his, unable to stop. The pain is too much. Coriolanus’ tears were of shame of who his soulmate was. Sejanus’ tears were of fear that his soulmate might die in the arena.

He had to make sure Lucy Gray won in the arena. Not because he felt pity for his so-called friend but for the fact that this would ensure his victory over the Plinth Prize. Surely, mentoring the soulmate of the heir of Plinth's fortune would get him some kind of reward, at least from the kind, foolish Sejanus.

Coriolanus received a dismissal from his current history class as he was called to meet Dr. Gaul. It took him mere minutes to reach the lab of the Academy where she was temporarily stationed until the games ended. His proposal is in his satchel. He sees you there, waiting for him, and he pauses.

He soaks you in, ignoring the confusion in your eyes. He stomps on his heart that he feels broken because of how fast it is beating. And begins to walk towards you confidently, trying to channel annoyance and anger over your actions of yesterday. He failed miserably.

He mirrors the small smile you give him and he acknowledges last night by saying, “How's the day going for you, little thief?” He feels his worries fade away, the paranoia that you might have stolen his work gone as he hears you laugh at being called a thief.

“I wasn't confident enough to let you read it, and it felt rude to make you walk back to her lab to submit when I was on my way there anyways,” you explained instead, your eyes hoping for his understanding and forgiveness.

You answered his question as well, “It's been going well, I was nearly late for my classes.”

It's pathetic how easily he caved in. “It's fine,” he whispered, “maybe next time don't leave a note, so the culprit isn't more obvious.” Coriolanus Snow decided your giggle was the prettiest sound he had ever heard and his face burns as his mind repeats it. You give him a friendly swat on his arm and Snow lets himself grin. A real smile with teeth, not the perfect one designated for his classmates.

His proposal is forgotten in his bag as he and you enter the lab. He pulls you a bit closer to him, and a bit behind so he's a step ahead. Dr. Gaul was insane and Coriolanus couldn't help the feeling of being protective of you. He didn't want you to receive even a scratch while he was there.

Dr. Gaul greets you and the Coryo with a feral look in her eyes and her red-stained lips in a wild grin befitting animals. You politely greet her back and Coriolanus follows. Coriolanus swallows as he sees hundreds if not more rainbow-colored snakes in a tank.

“For the games?” He hears you ask.

Dr. Gaul replied, “We'll see, child. Now come forth.”

Coriolanus swallows and even though he shouldn't, he holds your hand, his fingers gripping yours and he walks forward, still keeping you a step behind.

The snakes hiss and move around the tank in swirls of color that hurt his eyes. But in the limited space, he could almost make out parchments with familiar handwriting. What was Dr. Gaul planning?

As if on cue, Dr. Gaul asked, “Which brings me to your proposal. I liked it. Who wrote it? Just you two? Or did your brassy friend weigh in before her throat was cut?”

Coriolanus is surprised by the small laugh you let out, and he sees the humor in Dr. Gauls’ eyes. “No ma'am, I am sure she was rather busy choking on blood. They were written by us,” you said.

“Is that so?” Gauls' voice is full of suspicion but it deters neither of you.

“Yes,” Coriolanus butts in. “Our proposals were written completely by us.”

“Well, let's read it again, shall we?” Dr. Gaul adds, “Unfortunately, my assistant lined this very case with it while I was having my lunch. Let's retrieve it, shall we?”

“Isn't it dangerous?” Coriolanus asked, his voice edged.

Dr. Gaul chuckled and explained, “They can’t see too well, and they hear even less,” said Dr. Gaul. “But they know you’re there. Snakes can smell you using their tongues, these mutts here more than others.” “If you’re familiar, if they have pleasant associations with your scent — a warm tank, for instance — they’ll ignore you. A new scent, something foreign, that would be a threat,” said Dr. Gaul. “You’d be on your own, little boy.”

He doesn't let the fear swallow him, not when he saw how eager you were to prove her suspicions wrong. He didn't want to take Dr. Gauls' words at face value but what else could he do? In no world, he would let you dip your hand into a pit of possibly venomous snakes. Not if he had a choice.

“Me first then,” he said, his voice filled with (fake) confidence.

He puts his hand inside the tank, trying not to shiver in disgust. The snakes ignore him, slithering around his hand as he wiggles through to pull out his proposal successfully. It was safe. Which means you could do the same as well. He hands his proposal to Dr. Gaul before stepping so you can repeat the action.

And you succeed as well with flying colors. You step back to stand beside Snow as Gaul holds both of your works. She raised an eyebrow impressed but Coriolanus can see the underlying disappointment and vows to never leave you alone in her presence.

Dr. Gaul said, “Well… I will try to implement both of your ideas for the Games as soon as possible. The victory tour and idea of what you called tesserae were impeccable. Same with your idea, Coriolanus Snow. I am proud to have you both as Capitol students. I am also looking forward to Arachnes’ funeral”

“Now leave,” Dr. Gaul dismissed, “It's time for my tea and crackers.”

Coriolanus couldn't walk out of there faster. Je catches you before you can walk away. Your actions tilted his reality, in so little time since the reaping day, you were changing every thought of his.

“Choking on blood?” He said, “So much for Arachne's 'family'.”

You raised an eyebrow, “There were people in the library and it was already a bad look that we weren't in our homes grieving or whatever.”

He frowned, “So that tear- those red eyes were fake?”

You looked around the hall, the students present were out of earshot. You pulled him closer by the collar and whispered,

“Guess your songbird isn't the only performer.”

Your lips were mere inches away from his. He could seal a kiss. He could take you- he processes your words and doesn't know how to react. You… you changed his whole reality, his perception of you with a sentence. Coriolanus Snow didn't know what to make of you anymore.

You pulled back (why, why, why) and handed him your proposal. “I need you to know, everything I wrote here is for Panem. Don't judge me too harshly.”

You were nothing like he thought of and you were laid bare as he read down your proposal, what you had planned for Arachnes’ funeral. And in his mind, he realized that perhaps. . .

You stopped being District a long time ago.

NEXT PART

#character x reader #x you #x reader #x female reader #fem reader #scenario #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #president coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader smut #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #dystopian fiction #tom blyth #thg tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #thg x reader #thg series #thg fanfiction

[hehe-hoho-ohno]

Submas canon vs fanon

The entire time I have been in the Submas fandom I have seen a lot of confusion about what is canonical and what is a wide-spread fanon. Both in the sense of people thinking things were canon when they were not, and (more rarely) people thinking things were fanon when they were not. So I thought it might be useful to put together a little guide.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with using fanon. I use most of these headcannons in my own fics because I like them and canon is dumb anyway. (Note: pokemon is a huge sprawling mass and tends to contradict itself, and there have been changes across the various games/manga/anime)

All quotations are taken from bulbapidia.

Nimbasa Trio - FANON

Elesa has no connection to Ingo and Emmet besides living in the same place. There is one interaction between them in Pokemon Masters, and while they are on friendly terms they don't appear to be particularly close. Similarly, the idea that Ingo likes bad puns/Emmet does not stemmed from their fanon friendship with her.

Uncle Drayden - FANON

The only confirmed family Ingo and Emmet have are each other.

Cilan is a huge fan - CANON

Cilan is a fanboy of both of them in the anime.

Ingo is the older twin - CANON

In the original Japanese Emmet calls Ingo "nii-san" which means older brother.

"Do you have any siblings? I have an older brother, Ingo."

- Emmet, pokemon masters

Emmet's joltik hoard - FANON

Emmet's galvantula knows the move cross poison. This is an "egg move" which can only be learnt through pokemon breeding. Since it would take several tries to get this move it probably would have left Emmet with a lot of Joltik. In theory. We don't see Emmet with joltiks in canon.

Ingo's kitty smile - CANON

He smiles like that in the manga. (Admittedly, it's not as exaggerated as the full on :3 people sometimes draw him with.) He also briefly smiles in PLA, but less cat-like.

Ingo's perpetual frown is unintentional - CANON

"<player>! Someone just told me something that troubled me deeply! They said that compared to Emmet, I'm too stiff! But that's just a misunderstanding! I know I smile when I'm having fun! I'd even say that I'm quite proud of how expressive I am when I speak! What? You say you've never seen me smile? I-is that so..."

- Ingo, Pokemon Masters

They are both autistic - FANON

They are related to the twin heros - FANON

They share similar themes and motifs to the twin heros/Zekrom/Reshiram but that's it. They have no canon relationship.

Both of them are heavily coded as autistic. However, it's never been directly stated in the games that they are autistic and (to my knowledge) nobody at Game Freak/Nintendo has confirmed anything.

Ingo has a receding hairline - (debatably) CANON

He is drawn with one in the art book. Does the art book count as canon? Until something in the main games says otherwise, probably. (Though there is some argument to be had that it might be an unflattering haircut instead.)

Ingo arrived in Hisui via wormhole - FANON

"For my part, I simply found myself one day here in Hisui, a region whose name I'd never heard... All I could remember was my own name. I was still standing there in bafflement when the Pearl Clan came to my aid."

- Ingo, PLA. (However, the art book depicts the pearl clan finding him facedown on the ground, so take his standing claim with a grain of salt)

We still don't know how he got there. Similarly, it is quite common to show Ingo arriving during a blizzard/freezing to death and generally in poor health/injured/unconsciousness. But the way he recounts it sounds much more peaceful.

It'a also common to have Sneasler be the one to find him. The art book (of dubious canon) shows a human pearl clan member finding him, and Ingo's quote seems to confirm that. It's possible Sneasler was involved but she isn't mentioned.

Ingo got amnesia from hitting his head - FANON

We don't know how he got amnesia.

Ingo remembers Emmet as "the man in white" - FANON

"I'm starting to recall a man who looked... like me. We'd battle and discuss Pokémon, I think... The words "I like winning more than anything else" flashed through my mind just now..."

- Ingo, PLA, about Emmet

He makes no mention of remembering Emmet wearing white or smiling.

Ingo calls her "Lady Sneasler" - FANON

Ingo only calls her Sneasler, no Lady. In fact, nobody calls her or any of the ride pokemon Lord or Lady because...

The ride pokemon are noble pokemon - FANON

There are 10 blessed pokemon descended from the heros of old, and these pokemon are revered by the clans and have wardens. The blessed pokemon are divided into two groups, the rides and the nobles.

The ride pokemon are not called noble pokemon, and they do not get titles. Mai talks about "the great Wyrdeer" but does not call him lord or noble.

"This suggests that even Pokémon that are not nobles can become frenzied..."

- Kamado, PLA, about the ride pokemon Ursaluna seemingly becoming frenzied

Ingo lives in Sneasler's cave - FANON

We don't know where he lives.

Ingo became a Warden because Sneasler liked him - FANON

"I showed a natural affinity for taming Pokémon, which is why I eventually became a warden. But still I wonder what my true purpose is here..."

- Ingo, PLA

There is no further information about his wardenship. There is no information on what his relationship with Sneasler was prior to him becoming her warden.

Ingo likes having photos because of the amnesia - CANON

"Ah, photographs. I appreciate having physical keepsakes—less ephemeral than memories. Would you do me the honor of posing for a photo with me, <player>?"

- Ingo, PLA, at the Photography Studio

Ingo has been in Hisui for XX years - CANON

The art book uses the placeholder XX for the amount of time Ingo has been in Hisui. Some have taken the double digits to mean 10+, however the first digit could easily be a 0. So, we still don't know. Net 0 information.

Emmet must be taking Ingo vanishing badly - FANON

We have not heard from Emmet.

***

That's all for now! I'm sure I've missed or forgotten something, feel free to add stuff in the reblogs! I might edit the list later to add more if needed.

#submas #subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #nobori #kudari #canon vs fanon #pla #pokemon

[cherry-holmes]

Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña (series)

Chapter 1

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Javier Peña met you while you worked in the Embassy's Translation Department, and now he finds himself wondering why he can't stop thinking about you, even at the most inappropriate moments.

SERIES MASTERLIST Part 2

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

Word count: +3k

Warnings: SMUT. Javier has sex but not with reader. Oral sex (m receiving). Degradation kink. Cum eating. Fingering. Hair pulling. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Hola! So… this is the official first chapter of the series “Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña”!! Yeeey

I hope you enjoy it. Thanks a lot for the support in the firsts works of the serie❤️ PLEASE, CHECK ON THE SERIES MASTERLIST FOR LEARN HOW TO READ IT! If you have any questions, my box is always open.

I’m also open for requests.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He didn't used to take his reports himself to the Embassy's Translation Department, but Messina wanted to punish him for being stubborn and disobedient in the last raid, so she made him take his and Murphy's daily reports to you.

He knocked on the door, with an annoyed look on his face as he was eager to just go home, call one of his informants with the excuse of "catching up", have one or two glasses of whiskey and some cigarettes, and then kick her out of his apartment when they were done. It was a routine as much as brushing his teeth every morning. It wasn't healthy and it was miserable, but it was what it was.

"Come in," said a gentle and tired voice from behind the tallest file holder he had ever seen in his life.

He walked closer to your desk, and then he saw you: a pair of beautiful bright eyes looking up at him behind a pair of reading glasses, a blue dress that perfectly accentuated your breasts and waist effortlessly, but it also didn't reveal anything that could look purposefully vulgar. No, it wasn't your intention; you were professional.

"Umm... Hi," he said, surprised by his suddenly own nervousness towards you. That doesn't happen to him; Javier Peña never felt intimidated by any woman before. Never. But that was before you. He lifted the files in his hand, and you frowned with a cute expression. "Messina asked me to bring these to you," he explained.

"Is it late already?" you asked as you looked at your wristwatch to check the hour, but it was fine, you still had an hour and a half. You looked back at him and reached a hand to take the papers. "I usually go to collect them myself from your desks after I finish my working day... Did she need me to take them earlier?" you asked, a bit worried. You always performed your duties as well as you could, and you had never received a complaint about your working style: you took the reports from the DEA agents at night, translated them the next day, and delivered them to the Colombian Government's office by the evening, then repeated the routine.

"No, no," he was quick to say as he saw your concern, "She was actually making me do it to punish me," he explained, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh..." you exclaimed, "Well, thank you," you said as you placed the file in your pending-file organizer.

Javier couldn't help but notice the attractive woman before him, her beauty and intelligence captivating him. As he handed over the files, he couldn't resist striking up a conversation.

"You know," he began with a charming smile, "I've been around this office for quite some time, it's surprising I haven't crossed paths with you before. I thought I knew everyone here."

You smiled, appreciating his evident charm, but also aware of his reputation. "Well, I tend to keep a low profile," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone. "I'm not one to seek the spotlight."

He chuckled softly, his voice lowering playfully, locked onto yours. "Maybe I've just been looking in all the wrong places, then."

Your heart raced a bit as he flirted with you. You had heard about his reputation as a bit of a playboy, and as attracted as you already were to him, you knew better than to let your guard down completely.

"Well, I must say, I'm glad Messina decided to send me your way today. It's refreshing to meet someone so intriguing."

Your blush deepened as his flattery made you smile. You quickly composed yourself and replied, "Thank you, Agent Peña. I'll make sure to handle these reports promptly."

Javier assumed that you knew his name because you worked on his reports. Now he wanted to know yours. "I look forward to seeing you around more, Miss..." He paused, waiting for you to supply your name.

When you do, he repeated your name in a way you had never heard before, as it was the most precious sound he had ever heard.

"Well, it would be a shame to keep such a charming presence hidden away."

You could feel your heart flutter at his words, and you managed to reply with a playful tone, "I'll consider it, Agent Peña. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some translations to attend to."

With a final smile and a parting glance, you turned your attention back to the files, leaving Javier with a lingering sense of curiosity and attraction.

When you were sure he was far from your office, you couldn't help but smile and giggle like a teenage girl. He hadn't seen you before, but surely you had seen him. It was almost impossible not to know about Javier Peña, the DEA agent who was a complete playboy, the one almost every woman in the office talked about. You had seen him from a distance before, and you always thought he was handsome, but you never attempted to get closer to him. You never thought he would cross the threshold of your office either.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

That night, Javier called Helena and took her on his couch, as usual. She gave him everything he wanted just as she knew how he liked it. It was completely obscene, it was sinful. That was how he liked it.

Helena offered her head to please him. Moving up and down along his length, filthy noises filling his living room as he gripped her hair tightly.

Javier tried his best to concentrate on her mouth, but his mind kept drifting to you. What's even weirder was that he wasn't even thinking about you for that purpose. No, he was thinking of your blushed cheeks when he flirted with you, your shiny eyes, and that dress... How would it feel to kiss you? To touch your soft hair? How would it be to feel your skin against his, to trace every contour of your body with his lips?

Well, now he was thinking about you in that way. He couldn't help it, and it made him feel guilty, to be honest. He didn't really know you beyond your name, and thinking about you while another woman was giving him a blowjob wasn't morally right.

Helena kept doing her job, taking him deeply into her throat until her nose rubbed his pubic hair, licking his heavy balls, spitting on it, choking on it. Javier told himself that he must get you out of his mind. So he did.

Pulling her hair, he lifted her head to him so he could see the mess she did. Teary eyes looking at him full of lust and sin, saliva dripping down her chin until it landed on her bare breasts. She was a whore, he liked that. 

"En el sillón," he ordered as he stood up. Helena obeyed and climb to the couch, settling her arms on the backrest and offering her ass. He slapped her and she moan in the middle of a giggle. He passed his fingers between her soaking wet folds. "Estás muy mojadita, ¿todo eso solo por chuparme la verga?," he played.

She giggle again. Fuck, she liked him so damn much.

"Tienes una verga muy rica," she answered.

Javier grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him as he grabbed his cock to position it on her entrance.

"I've heard about that," he groaned as he buried himself on her pussy, making her cried with pleasure.

He began to thrust into her without giving truce. His hand gripped her hair, forcing her to throw her head back so he can see her features lost in pleasure and ecstasy. Javier could feel her fluids soaking his balls as they hit on her clit so hard, making a vulgar, filthy sound that echoed through the apartment.

"Fucking whore," he groaned, making her fluid run like a river down her legs. She liked when he speaks English to her. "You liked that, whore? Mhm?," she nodded, "Respóndeme cuando te hablo, puta," he demanded.

"Si... oh, mier..., ¡Si, si, Javier!," she screamed, "¡Que rico, no pares!," she begged as her fingers clung to the chair in search of balance.

He was completely wild, lost in her. Helena didn't know exactly why; he never talked to her about his working day or his problems. But she did know that when he was that desperate, it was because a very complicated day had preceded him.

Javier was so close, he could feel it in his balls and the knot that tightened in his lower belly. He could also feel that she was about to finish too, by the way her cunt started to dripped even more and how she clenched around his cock.

He pulled out of her, pumping himself, and then pulled her by the arm to guide her off the couch.

"De rodillas," he said. She kneel in front of him and opened her mouth nice and wide for him. "Make yourself cum," he ordered her.

After a few strokes, Javier cum with a a deep growl all over her tongue. Helena pumped two of her own fingers in and out of her sensitive pussy, and used her other hand to traced circles on her swollen clit. The moment she felt his warm load on her mouth, she started to quivering with pleasure, reaching her own climax.

"Let me see," he grabbed her chin, squeezing her cheeks so she wouldn't close her mouth. "Such a nice slut," he praised. He slapped her and she smiled evilly. "Trágatelo."

She would do anything he asked of her, and Javier knew it. He wasn't proud, but he often took advantage of that for two purposes: to satisfy his most primitive desires and to fulfill the needs of his job by obtaining valuable information about the sicarios and the cartel. Helena was a prostitute, which made her perfect for the job.

The sicarios had the same needs as any other men; they enjoyed sex and didn't mind paying for it. And since nobody paid attention to the whore they hired, they could infiltrate cartel parties, listen to their conversations, and seduce them to gather information in an inconspicuous way.

That was what Helena did: she gathered information from every sicario that hired her services and handed it all over to Javier. He trusted her because she was loyal. She also trusted him; she even gave him her real name and sometimes mentioned her daughter.

Javier hated it when she did that. He didn't want to know too much about her life, but he pretended to listen anyway. She was a single mother and, of course, didn't like her job. But it paid the bills and, most importantly, it provided her daughter with food and clothes.

Javier didn't like to pay for sex. Money implied pretense, which could lead to betrayal. Prostitutes would say what you wanted to hear, do what you wanted them to do, as long as you paid, of course. You couldn't trust them blindly, but in the context of Javier's work, if not them, then who?

Moreover, he believed that there was nothing like a woman who engaged in pleasure willingly. He was a handsome man and a cop, which was incredibly enticing and attractive to every woman he encountered. He did pay for the information they provided, and when they offered their services just because they were "already there," he didn't say no. Especially Helena; she was his favorite.

After using his bathroom to clean up, Helena walked half-naked to the kitchen while Javier lounged on his couch, a cigarette in his mouth and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"¿Qué me ofreces de tomar?" she asked, taking a clean glass from the sink.

"Whiskey o agua de la llave," he answered as he light up the cigarette.

"Agüita, pues," she replied in a lower tone. She would never admit it, not to Javier, but deep down, she always hoped he would offer her a coffee and ask her to stay. He never did, and he never would. She would say no anyway; she had to pick up her daughter from her mother's place.

Javier took a sip of his whiskey and decided to steer the conversation toward business. "By the way, Helena, I was wondering if you've heard anything new about the cartel lately? You know, anything that might be relevant for us."

She nodded and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Yeah, there's been some chatter. They seem to be making a move down in Cali, and there are rumors about a new player on the scene. They call him 'El Fantasma.'"

"El Fantasma, huh?" Javier raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. We'll have to keep an eye on that." He reached for his wallet, pulled out some bills, and handed them to her.

Helena didn't like that part of their encounters because she felt like he was paying for the sex, not for the information. She had made it clear to him that "if you were my client, you would pay me first," just to let him know that she had sex with him because she liked him. She never rejected the money, though; she had a daughter.

As Helena finished her glass of water, she began to gather her things. "Well, Javier, I should get going. I need to pick up my daughter."

He nodded, his attention briefly diverted to the TV. "Sure, Helena. Thanks for the information."

She approached him, hoping for a warm goodbye, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Take care, Javier. Stay safe out there."

But instead of returning her gesture, he instinctively pulled away, avoiding her kiss. It was a reflex, something he couldn't control. "Yeah, you too," he mumbled, his eyes focused on the television.

Helena felt a pang of hurt but quickly masked it with a forced smile. "Alright, then. Buenas noches, Javier."

"Buenas noches," he replied, still focused on the TV.

She turned and left his apartment, trying to shake off the feeling of rejection, knowing that she was just another transaction in his complicated world.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The Embassy's kitchen was an unexpected haven of calm amidst the chaos of daily operations. Javier, after a particularly grueling morning meeting, spotted you entering with purpose, a silent promise of coffee and respite. Perhaps it was the allure of a caffeine boost or a subconscious attraction that led him to follow you.

Unconsciously, he trailed behind, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the office until he found himself standing next to you by the coffee machine. As he poured his own coffee, a wave of regret washed over him. He didn't want to be the type of guy who awkwardly followed someone around. Besides, how was he going to look at you after thinking about you the night before while he was involved with another woman? You deserved so much more than that.

He watched as you reached for a coffee mug, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. Just as he was contemplating a hasty retreat, you turned, almost as if sensing his presence, and smiled at him. Javier mentally cursed himself for being so transparent.

"Morning," you greeted warmly, holding your coffee cup in your hand.

Javier cleared his throat and replied, "Morning," with a faint smile.

As you leaned against the counter while preparing your coffee, you engaged him in conversation. "So, how's it going with the reports today?"

Javier was surprised by your friendly tone and felt a bit awkward about the fact that he'd been trailing you, but he decided to go along with it. "Ah, you know, the usual. Paperwork and chasing leads. It's a never-ending cycle."

You chuckled, "Sounds like a tough gig."

"It has its moments," Javier admitted, feeling slightly more at ease. "But I can't complain."

The two of you continued chatting about work, the latest developments in the field, and more. As the conversation flowed, Javier began to appreciate your intelligence and wit. You weren't just another pretty face in the office; you had substance and depth.

"You have a curious accent," he pointed out, breaking a brief silence as you took a bite of a cookie. "Can I know where are you from?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Javier wasn't one to dig into personal information about colleagues, or in general. Not even with his partner, Steve Murphy. Let alone with any woman; he preferred to keep such matters separate.

"I'm from Mexico, actually," you answered, lifting your chin with pride in your roots. Javier was on the verge of smirking but refrained. There was something about you, the way you spoke and articulated things with your delicate hands, that had him captivated.

Javier hesitated for a moment, unaccustomed to discussing his personal life with colleagues. He thought, fuck it. "My family is also from Mexico," he admitted.

You raised your elegant eyebrows, "Well, I guess 'Javier Peña' has to come from somewhere."

His smile couldn't be contained. "My father's grandparents were from Reynosa, Tamaulipas," he explained, "and my mother's parents were from Ciudad Juárez, Chihuahua."

"So your parents were born in America?" you inquired.

He nodded, "Texas. And so was I."

You opened your lips, ready to say something else, when the tall and blond figure of Murphy interrupted you. He had a file in his hand and a hurried expression. Steve looked at Javier and then at you, lifting his eyebrows when his gaze returned to Peña.

"Messina approved the raid," he said with a slight nod.

Javier straightened up, his broad shoulders becoming firm and resolute. Suddenly, he looked taller and more imposing, you thought.

"I'm gonna grab my gun, and I'll see you in the parking lot," Javier informed Murphy, who nodded and, after one last glance in your direction, turned around and left the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I've got to..." he began, looking at you.

"It's okay," you replied, holding your coffee cup. Then, after a brief hesitation, you added, "Take care of yourself, Javier."

The sentence warmed his chest, and he felt a warmth that almost reached his cheeks. He nodded, not quite sure what to say, and then left the room.

But as he walked away, there was a moment of realization. You had extended a friendly gesture, an opportunity to get to know each other better, and he had responded with genuine interest.

Maybe, just maybe, Javier Peña wasn't that hijo de puta that everyone said he was.

NEXT CHAPTER

#pedro pascal #fanfic #narcos #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena x you #javier peña #javierpeña x reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x reader

[lucky-bucky-boy]

omg local baker who Mike has baking abbys bday cake but he has a crush on her ????

Oh my God this is so cute to me. I wanna run a coffee shop/mini bakery and this is just perfect and beautiful omg

I'm writing this with the idea that fnaf happened but didn't *happen* like no one died lmao

~~

Mike wasn't sure what to expect. At all.

It had been an incredibly tough year, each day somehow becoming more rough than the previous. From mom passing, to job hopping, to Aunt Jane trying to get the courts even more involved. Despite all that, he did his damndest to not let it affect Abby.

He knew in some aspects it was inevitable. A young child losing a parent was never easy; she heard his grumbling and arguments with Aunt Jane, the comments about not being able to pay Max, found papers he should have hidden a little better

But birthdays and holidays were sacred. That he made sure of.

So, against his pride and better judgement, he had asked Aunt Jane for a little help throwing Abby a birthday party. She was more than happy to, surprisingly, with the agreement they come up for Thanksgiving this year. And begrudgingly, he agreed.

That's how he ended up at the doorstep of a brick townhouse closer to the city, a paper in his hand with an address scrawled in his Aunt's too neat handwriting. She'd given him a list of stores and things and places and people to get everything from in order to throw a "proper birthday party."

He did a double take on the numbers and street address, making sure they matched and still slightly confused as to why he was at a person's house and not a store. With a shrug and a tired sigh, he knocked on the door, the scurrying of animals evident inside almost immediately followed by a "shush" as he heard another door shut before the one in front of him went to open.

He didn't know what to expect, and sure as hell didn't expect to have a girl a little younger than him open the door, an apron on and covered in flour. She looked almost frazzled for a moment before shutting the door behind her, eyes moving from the curious furry creatures to the man now in front of her.

"Hi, sorry," she sounded almost as tired and exasperated as he did, "been a busy day, and my lovely little fur-babies have been noisy."

She wiped her hands on her apron, "I - I don't think we've met before." Her eyebrows were scrunched, confusion etching into her features.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. I'm Mike. My uh- my Aunt Jane suggested you to me. Told me you make the best cakes and cupcakes and gave me your address to place an order."

He could see the cogs working in her brain as she tried to pin poin who he was talking about, "Oh! That's right, she gave me a call the other day to make sure I'd have the time. You need the order for next Saturday, right?"

He nodded, "Yeah, next Saturday at noon."

"Perfect, yes. Come in, we'll fill out the forms and get everything set. My pets are actually in the front room so you don't have to worry about them."

A cup of coffee, a curious conversation, and too many forms later, Mike felt like he was in a dream. The girl sitting across the table from him was captivating, a sense of excitement and passion he longed to have and admired. There was a sweetness to her, something he was sure he'd be able to taste in more ways than just her baking skills.

"Okay," her voice cut through his thoughts, "So, we're doing 24 cupcakes, half chocolate and half vanilla, then a 9 inch rounch cake with mint chocolate. And it's rainbow, fairy, unicorn, princess themed. Does that all sound right?"

He chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, sorry I couldn't give you more specifics. She's sort of all over the place and it's a surprise party."

"Oh no, don't worry. I'm going to have fun with this. Does she like glitter?"

He nodded again before taking a quick sip of his coffee. "Yeah, yeah. She loves glitter. Her favorite thing to do is draw as well."

"Perfect. Well, Mike, you're definitely more pleasant than your Aunt," she laughed softly, standing up and placing the form in a little file holder, "But don't tell her I said that. I'll send her the bill tomorrow. I hope Abby loves the cake."

Mike stood up, a tinge of disappointment that their interaction was coming to an end so soon. "I'm sure she will. She loves sweet." He sat his coffee cup in the sink. "So uh, when should I pick up the cake?"

"Oh! Don't worry about it. Jane invited me to the party so I'll just bring it all with me, I could use the networking with other parents so it works out."

His eyes widen some, lips twitching up into a small smile. "Okay, cool. I'll uh, I'll see you next week." He hesitated for a moment before grabbing a rogue napkin and the pen he was using to fill out the forms, quickly scribbling something onto it.

"Here," he handed her the napkin, "My number in case uh, in case you wanna talk more." He paused for a moment, watching her eyes scan the numbers, "For the uh. The cake. The party."

She giggled softly, looking at him as his features began to blush. "Yeah. For the cake and the party."

He chuckled anxiously, "Thanks again. I'll see you later." Mike let himself out before he could make himself even more embarrassed, standing on the porch for a moment after he closed the door behind him, unaware that the sweet baker was inside quietly squealing over the poorly written number.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #mike x reader #mike fluff #fnaf fluff #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fluff #ask #jaz replies #fluff #mike schmidt x reader

[bendycxmet]

Repair You—Vash the Stampede

Summary: Just repairing Vash's arm. He might see it as more than just a simple act of service though.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Content: fluff, the whole gangs here, drinking, drunken and silly Vash, Wolfwood being a tease

You sat quietly at the hotel desk for quite some time now, feet swung onto the hardwood desktop while haphazardly leaning backward in the rusty old chair with a book between your fingers. The crew had gone out for another late-night drinking session, negating your pleas to rest tonight as the previous night's session had taken a lot out of you.

"You're starting to show your age there yanno" quipped Wolfwood as he slung his arm heavily onto your shoulders. He leaned in, smirking with downward-cast eyes as the lit cigarette between his lips swirled nicotine smoke around your persona, putting you in a heady yet annoyed space.

"Am not! You know we're both around the same age, right?” You swatted the smoke that crawled its way into your nostrils, but Nico paid no mind, only crowding closer into your personal space to hear the futile excuse you gave next. 

“It's just the hangover from this morning is still lingering. Maybe I feel it more than you since I out-drank your ass and you lost that bet when we were playing darts!" you teased as you wiggled your finger into his side. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, grumbling that you had cheated. 

A loud stomp could be heard from behind, and before you could turn to see who was noisily heading your way, a tuft of blonde hair and dazed blue eyes appeared.

"Mayflyyyy cmonnn you didn't spend enough time with me yesterday night!" A poof of his breath revealed that Vash had already started the night's festivities. You see the striped tie wrapped around his forehead. You chuckle.

Yep, he’s definitely a couple drinks in. 

Judging by how he had nudged his way between Wolfwood and yourself and sent a pointed glare toward the Undertaker, Vash was tipsy already. It was fun to see him tipsy when you were sober, as you were able to pinpoint the funny and affectionate little habits he threw your way, especially his small bouts of jealousy when Wolfwood became too close to you. He clung to your side as he batted his eyelashes, peering down at you with what could be described as the most endearing puppy dog eyes you have ever seen.

"Oh Vash, I did spend all yesterday night with you! You glued yourself to my side as if I was going to disappear! But you passed out on one of the tables before we left. That's why I played darts with Wolfwood." You giggled as you recalled Wolfwood begrudgingly carrying Vash back to your shared hotel room.

"Hey now you guys, let's just let them go back to their room. We can have enough fun here, right Milly?" drawled Meryl. 

"Yeah!! Let's get a round of drinks going again, everyone. Have a good night y/n!" shouted Milly in a warbled tone as she clumsily made her way to the bar, Wolfwood trailing close behind to ensure the tall girl didn't drop any of their drinks.

"Mmmm please don't go…" whimpered Vash as he tucked his head into your neck. "I'll miss you too much."

"Vash, angel, have fun tonight okay?” You whispered into his ear. 

“I'll be waiting back in the room. Plus, yanno what night it is?" you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly. Vash simply gave a slow blink.

 "Arm repair day~" 

Before the last word could escape your lips, Vash positively beamed at you, squealing in excitement before pecking your face and lips.

"Promise?!"

"I promise. I would never break our promise of these nights. Now go, I'll be waiting for you." You went to push him away as he kept planting wet, sloppy kisses against your cheeks, the skin flushing from his deep affections.

With that, you exit the populated bar, turning to look over your shoulder one last time as Vash bounds after the crew as they order another round of shots of a liquor you were too familiar with the night before. You groan, feeling nauseous at the thought.

You smile fondly at the memory that had played out only hours prior, ears perking up as several pairs of footsteps and giggling voices made their way down the hall. A loud thump could be heard before Meryl's quiet chastising ensued, warning the two to quiet down before they awakened the snoozing hotel patrons. Planting your feet down from the desk, you went to meet the crew in the hall. Swinging the door open, you were met with quite a chaotic scene.

Vash had Wolfwood's face in his hands, smooching faces being made as Wolfwood struggled to keep him at an arm’s length.

"Needle noggin I told you to quit it! I’m not your Mayfly.” Wolfwood perked up at the sound of your creaking door.

“Look! There’s your beloved Mayfly!” Vash whipped his head up, searching for you until his eyes met yours.

“Mayflyyy!” Vash pushed off Wolfwood and launched his body at yours standing in your shared hotel room threshold. You fell backwards with the strong, heavy weight of Vash abruptly meeting your ill-prepared stance, worrying you had hit your head on the dirty hardwood floors until you felt Vash’s warm fingers pressing into your skull. You sighed into his neck, wrapping your arms around him. Even drunk, Vash always prioritized the safety of your being. 

“You should’ve seen him. His last drink sent him begging to see you. He was in tears. I shoulda told the bartender to dilute that beer,” chuckled Meryl, a snoring Milly hanging from her shoulders. “Well, we’re gonna turn in for the night. Good luck handling the typhoon.”

“Thanks you guys. Mind shutting the door? I’m in a bit of a… predicament.” Peering down, you can see the content smile gracing Vash’s face as he rubbed his face into your shirt, inhaling the scent of you.

“Sure thing. Night you guys.” With that, Meryl shut the door.

“Hey Stampede, enjoying yourself there?” Vash groaned, pinching your side with the hand that was not cradling your head. 

“Yanno I hate when you call me that. Where’s my nicknamesss?” drawled Vash, sniffling as he peered up at you. You brought up one of your hands to tenderly caress his warm cheeks.

“Sorry my sweet angel~” you said in a lilted tone. “Thought you had forgotten all about me, and our designated nights.” Vash let out a loud gasp as he pushed himself so that he was sitting with his back to the end of the bed.

“Never ever! Look, I’m all ready.” Vash messily threw his red coat off, tugging his humanoid limb off and offering the piece to you. He seems to have sobered up quickly at the mention of what he had been looking forward to all night.

“What a good boy. Now go take a shower, you don’t smell like my usual Vash. I’ll get started on this.” Vash’s cheeks flushed an even darker pink at your praise, promptly hopping up and entering the bathroom, water and steam hissing from the gap under the closed door. You sat at the edge of the bed, tinkering with his arm with some tools you bought from a vendor many towns ago. You don’t understand why you love to do this for him. Maybe it's the only act of service you can do for him. Well, it’s the least you can do when he’s constantly laying down his life for you. 

Vash exited the bathroom, steam filling the hotel room. His gray, weathered sweatpants hung low on his hips, chest left uncovered so that you could trail your eyes down the many scars littering his skin. You can never get used to seeing him like this, quickly averting your eyes back to the task at hand, struggling to quell the blush settled now on your face. The sensation of the cotton cloth between your fingers gave your brain a distraction from the sight in front of you. You missed the teasing spark in Vash’s eyes as he made his way to you, sitting on the floor and pushing his back between your calves hanging off the edge of the bed.

“How goes it?”

“Almost done… just gotta polish it.” 

He hummed, tilting his head back until he was staring at you work. The cute crease you made in between your eyebrows whenever you were focused always had his heart twinge. How lovely it was to have someone take care of just one piece of him. Yearning for your attention after a long night without you, Vash turned his head to kiss the inner area of your knee. You giggled at the ticklish feeling.

“What’s wrong? You missed me that much?” You set the now polished arm on the bed, running your fingers through his coarse, soft blonde hair, occasionally scratching at his scalp. Vash hummed, his entire body slumping against the bed at your gentle caresses. 

“You have no idea…” Vash’s breaths began to slow at the feeling of your fingertips combing through his wet hair. What a strange sight to see when his hair wasn’t spiked into his usual style. The way his hair settled lightly over his eyes gave him an almost vulnerable, boyish charm, the urge to shield him and take him away from the world that hurts him constantly hitting you square in the chest. You took a deep breath, remembering that he would rather get hurt himself before seeing you attempt to protect him. Better to just ensure the arm that protected not only yourself and the crew, but also himself, was optimized at all times.

“Let’s get under the covers, I can feel how tired you are.” 

Vash progressively became heavier as a serene expression crossed his face, unfocused blues following your movements as you guided him under the covers, allowing his head to hit your chest, knowing he would appreciate hearing your soft, beating heart in his dreams. Vash’s last moments awake included him turning onto his side, arm wrapped around your middle, his legs interlacing with yours. The ensnaring warmth of him began to lull you to sleep, but not before you heard a quiet whisper floating upward from your chest.

“Thank you…” 

You didn’t need an entire sentence to read in between the lines, or rather, in between two words to know that Vash was not just thanking you for repairing his humanoid arm. With those last two words from him, Vash’s soft, even breaths willed you to sleep. 

A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for reading my first piece of fanfic I've ever posted! Not usually a writer, so bear with me haha just doing this for fun. I just really love Vash so I wanted to add some fanfics into the fandom. Thanks for reading and hope for your continued support! See ya <33

masterlist

Dividers

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #vash the stampede #vash x reader fluff #vash fluff #bendycxmet writes

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Since day one in Aaru village, your life has become... less difficult, to say the least. Since that fateful night where Candace had brought you under her care, the elders of the village became aware that your presence could have brought problems and that the other archons would clam up your head and the lives of the villagers as punishment for the crime of hiding the "imposter". But Candace was adamant about the matter: you were nothing but a victim of some circumstances, and the village would have not turned its head to the other side on a travaller in need of help.

Dehya, besides being one of the few who wanted you far away from there, decided to follow Candace in her judgment. Not because she feared that glim of protectiveness that she showed to you, but because, after all, there was truth in her words. You were fragile, a flower that was supposed to burn under the scorching sun.

She never understood the protector, and then something changed.

Maybe it was that, despite what others from other nations said, you never actually claimed to be the Creator or something. Y/n, such a simple name—so human. Why would someone who could easily make people believe that they are indeed the creator, the allmighty, the one who rules their world just go around without even thinking about that possibility?

Maybe it was that gleam in your eyes? The one that wandered over the desert, seeing it as a place full of wonders and adventure, but still respected it, not taking it as a mere desolated pile of sand?

Maybe it was the fact that, every day, you greeted Candace with a smile that could even compare to the sun while trying to sound nice even to her, despite how harshly you were with her at the beginning? Maybe it was your laugh while plaing with the children, taking care of them, helping people around...

Maybe it was something around each of these suggestions, but she could even understand that questioning gaze when she politely asked you to just sit on a cushion with a brush in her hand.

"...W-why..."

"Well, firstly, because I noticed that your ingested harm can't even take care of your basic needs...and because I thought it could be a nice gesture..."

She felt waves of embarrassment clashing with her. It was a stupid idea, but she honestly thought that could ease your mind! She likes taking care of her own hair; it makes her head less heavy!

"I-I...forget it, it was a stupid i-"

"NO! No, no, it's not... I would love to, really!"

There was a slight chance that, maybe, that was more an act of politeness than the actual desire to spend some quality time with her, but it was something, right?

You never thought that Dehya was harsh or aggressive. Well, she was in battle with her enemies, but she was usually protective of the people for whom she genuinely cared. Her hand massaged calmly on your scal, the brush caressed gently on your length, and her nails were so gentle on our skin. It was relaxing. I remember a nice moment when someone who cared for you treated you this way. You could swear that you heard Dehya humming something behind her sealed lips.

"You right, it feels nice."

"It does? I'm glad then, but don't think I'll do this often; I'm still needed around here, you know"?"

"Y-yeah..."

Another thing came to our minds. It was more of a question that, in the end, was a normal thought that wanted to come out of your mind. Your finger is scratching the skin of your opposites, catching a Dehya face connected to some small knots in your hair.

"You're not forced to be nice to me."

She stopped all of a sudden. A strange questioning look on her face was facing your own.

"I know that I can be troubled. That's why Candace is working to find me a new home! I just thought that if you want to avoid me, I'm not blaming you!"

"Cut it."

It was more of a growl than a request. Her eyes turned a fierce one, yet she remained composed on her seat, reaching with her free hand for our arm.

"If I hadn't wanted to be here, then you wouldn't have seen me at all. I'm not nice with you by force; I'm nice because I want to."

Her grip wasn't painful at all; it felt comforting, but not as much as her words. Then a small blush appeared on her cheekbone, and she started to scrawl with her other hand, the brush still in her hand.

"You have it hard. I must say you are pretty much stronger than you believe. I never met someone who could be this nice after all the hell they've been through. So..."

Another thing you learned was that Dehya wasn't the girl you thought she was—she was even better.

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #dehya #creator!reader #dehya x reader

[sourcreammachine]

✨My Favourite Moments of 2024!✨

uk prime minister keir starmer resigns in disgrace after accidentally referring to a trans woman by her correct pronouns

elon musk attempts to prove the safety of the tesla truck by letting mitch mcconnell drive. both men die within seconds of entering the vehicle

in response to worldwide famine, the World Food Programme appoints taylor swift as its director-for-life

the IDF continues carpetbombing occupied gaza after the ghosts of hamas are spotted. all gazans are required to evacuate into a shallow grave

the conclave repeatedly fails to elect a new pope, causing a schism. one conclave elects some italian bishop you’ve never heard of while the other conclave elects agent Q

the IMF buys pakistan

donald trump wins the republican primary carrying 60 states, 14 countries, and 8 circles of hell. during his victory broadcast from prison he suffers what it clinically described as a MegaStroke, removing his ability to move and speak. he declares one of his busty nurses to be his running mate and leads biden by 30 points

following the death of musk twitter is divided by gavelkind amongst multiple rival warlords

joe biden finally finishes his 13th genocide, winning a bet he made with obama

after it retreats from ukraine and georgia, putin personally murders every single member of the russian army. he is reelected in a landslide

his holiness the ayatollah ali khamenei dies peacefully of old age surrounded by his loving family and a grieving nation. days later he is found in a disused oil pipeline hiding from protesters while off his tits on heroin, and is dragged through the streets and beaten to death

the largest war in human history erupts in africa, costing dozens of millions of lives. it is a slow news day at the UN

president millei attaches argentina to the dollar. the us economy immediately crashes and undergoes apocalyptic hyperinflation, the dollar becoming the first currency to have a negative value. the only surviving american industry is joe biden ‘i did that’ stickers

the PLA begins its amphibious invasion of taiwan. the war claims the lives of one million PLA soldiers, ending within 20 minutes when the generals learn that tanks can’t swim

donald trump wins the us presidential election carrying all 100 states. during his victory broadcast from the intensive care unit, he suffers what is clinically described as a Heart Apocalypse, rupturing every single artery in his body and leaving him as pile of blood and gore. the supreme court rules that despite being, quote, “the most dead person ever recorded”, he is still eligible to be president. he and vp-elect Busty Nurse will be inaugurated on 20 january

due to a weird loophole, elon musk’s trans daughter inherits his entire estate. she immediately uses all her wealth to found a mutually-owned food distribution network, ending world hunger

the switch 2 still doesn’t have fucking analogue triggers

#196

[justjensenandhisalteregos]

Picture

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f! Reader, (Big bro vibes) Sam Winchester x f! Reader

Warnings: a bit of sadness and Dean being Dean, not in a good way, a dose of reality from Chuck

A/N: This is very loosely based off the Fanfiction episode and I heard Picture by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow for the first time in a while and I immediately thought it would make a good story. Italics are flashbacks and both Dean and the readers thoughts.

Thanks to @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior for the continued help and proof reading. I credit her for the interaction between the waitress and Dean, she put it far more eloquently than I had first wrote it.

As always thoughts, hearts, and reblogs are welcome and much appreciated! X 🤍

PS. Currently working on Deans Valentines Day P3 as we speak!! 😁

WC:776

***

“You deserve more than I can give.”

“I loose every person I allow to get close to me”

“I just can’t anymore…”

***

Flashbacks from three days ago have been living rent free in my head. That’s when Dean told me we were never going to be more than friends. We weren’t even anything, yet. That’s when he left the bunker, to give me space. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

Again, tears built up in my eyes threatening to spill over.

I was holed up in my bedroom, across the hall from Dean’s room. This was hard on me, but even so on Sam. Sam would check on me ever so often, usually to bring me food and water.

“Hey, (Y/N), I got you some (breakfast, lunch, dinner).” He’d say while giving me a tried smile.

“Dean is a dumbass, you know that. He gets in his head about everything.”

A faint grin began to tug at the corner of my mouth as my eyes began to close, my body burnt out from the continuous flashbacks. Through everything I was thankful Sam cared for me like a big brother should.

***

Dean’s POV

“You deserve more than I can give.”

“I loose every person I allow to get close to me”

“I just can’t anymore…”

I was looking at her picture. I couldn’t get (Y/N) out of my head. I missed her with every ounce of myself. Quickly, I put her picture away as number 3 came out of the bathroom. I felt tears threaten to appear. I knew I couldn’t look at your picture while I was laying next to her.

Thankfully, I fell asleep before anything could happen with the third woman I took back to my motel room from the bar. She was gone before I woke up this morning.

My stomach made noise signaling that I was overdue for breakfast.

12:30PM

I groaned at how long I had slept. Quickly I got dressed and headed to the nearest diner to grab a really late breakfast. I had a hankering for Pancakes like (Y/N) makes me for my birthday breakfast every year.

The bell over the door to the Breakfast All Day Diner chimed as I opened the door. The smell of all things breakfast filled my senses as I followed what the sign at the host table said,

Please seat yourself!

Pulling out a menu from where it was tucked between the napkin dispenser and condiments holder, I opened it in search of any type of pancake, although nothing would ever compare to (Y/N’s).

As I pulled the menu up to my face to read the small print, I vaguely registered the chime of the diner door. Seconds later, I felt the presence of someone staring at me. Slowly I lowered my menu to see Chuck.

“Hello Dean.” He spoke almost sounding scornful.

“Chuck.” I said back unamused.

Without asking he slid into the booth to sit across from me.

Just then a attractive, brunette waitress appeared, seemingly reader to take our, my order.

What can I get you gentlemen today?” She asked, and I noticed the way her eyes lingered on my face. I knew the look she was giving me, I'd seen it enough times in my life. It was an invitation - to flirt, to hit on her, possibly more.

I was having none of it. I have or had a woman at home. Sighing, I read off my order of two pancakes, eggs over easy, and extra bacon in place of sausage. Chuck just ordered a black coffee.

“Are you going to ask why I’m here? Chuck asked somewhat annoyed.

“I’m sure you’re planning on telling me anyways. I deadpanned back.

Before Chuck could share of his reason for showing up, my meal was set in front of me. The smell of my plate wafted to my nose and I was ready to dig in. With a forkful of pancake midway to my lips Chuck started speaking again.

“I wrote (Y/N) into the story for a reason. Opposites attract, she is your opposite Dean.”

My eyes dilated as I took in Chucks simple words. Immediately, my thoughts orbited (Y/N).

“How could this be?”

“I am no good for her.”

“I can’t give her the life she deserves.”

“I can’t loose her.”

“I told her I couldn’t…can I?

As all these and a plethora of other reasons why it couldn’t work circulated my brain, I was brought back to reality at the ring of my cell.

(Y/N)

She was calling me after three damn days. Without thinking, I picked up the call. Chuck smiled knowingly.

Before I could say anything, (Y/N) spoke.

“I just called to say, I love you. Come back home.”

[jerzwriter]

A chat with Sienna...

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Characters: Tobias Carrick x Casey - eventually 😊, Sienna Trinh Rating: Teen Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, panic attacks, nightmares Words: 2,300 Series Summary: Can be found here. Chapter Summary: Tobias is there for his friend Casey when she's struggling months after the chemical attack. During a visit, he has the chance to talk to Casey's best friend. (This text fic is a lead into this chapter.) A/N: I decided to mesh the "With Warning" fics into the existing fics from the start of Tobias & Casey's relationship. The Fine Print would take place shortly after this fic, and the next installment of "With Warning" will be a conversation with Aurora after the events of The Fine Print.

With Warning Masterlist Tobias x Casey Masterlist || My Full Masterlist

There was nothing delicate about the knock on her bedroom door. Bold and a little too loud, some would say it wasn’t unlike the man knocking. Pushing her weighted blanket off with vexation, Casey left the comfort of her bed with a sigh. It was nice of him to stop by, but... She looked down at her ratty, old t-shirt that hadn’t been changed in two, maybe three days, and her pink flannel Snoopy pajama bottoms had been on just as long. Despite her sour mood, she almost smiled; she was about to make one hell of an impression.

Shuffling to the door in stockinged feet, she considered rescinding her invitation. But the aroma of shrimp Pad Thai was too seductive. He noticed she thought, she never told him her favorite Thai dish, but he must have been paying attention.

Tobias was about to knock again when he heard a gentle thud when Casey leaned against the door before opening.

“This is your last chance; you can make a run for it.”

Amused, he lifted the bags as if she could see them.

“But I’ve got food?”

“You could leave it at the door, I’d even Venmo you a tip... pretend you’re the delivery guy.”

“You know,” he snickered. “I have seen movies that start off like that...”

That did it. It might have been a tiny laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless, and Casey had been devoid of laughter for some time.

“I’ll bet you have,” she said, mindlessly running her fingers over the slide lock.

“All right, this is your last chance, kid! If you open the door, you get me and food; if not, I walk... but the food comes with me. What’s it gonna be?”

Casey cracked the door open and peered at her guest. “Don’t say you haven’t been warned," she kicked the door open, and Tobias eagerly entered.

While she had one of the biggest bedrooms in the tiny garden apartment, it was still rather small, and Tobias couldn’t figure out where to put the food.  

“You sure you don’t want to eat in the kitchen? I mean, there’s a table there,” he grinned.

Casey shot him a look as she pulled a flat sheet from her closet and spread it over a tiny spot on her bedroom floor.

“You’ve never had a picnic, Carrick?”

He sank to the floor and spread the food out like a smorgasbord and Casey sat sullenly before him. “It was nice of you to come,” she said, grabbing a steamed dumpling.

“It’s my pleasure,” he stated, his eyes catching hers. “Of course, I know you’re just using me for the food.”

Normally, that would have earned a sarcastic reply or at least a little chuckle, but today, she flatly retorted, “You’re on to me.”

They ate in relative silence, Tobias leaning his back against the wall and Casey cross-legged as they scooped down ku chai, tod mun pla, and som thum tua. She began to wonder if he had known her favorite dish after all; perhaps he just ordered the entire menu. Either way, she was content, and when they were both sufficiently stuffed, Tobias began to clean up, stopping Casey when she tried to help him.

“Clean-up duty is on me today, princess. You just relax. Do you want your ice cream now?"

"So, saving the ice cream for later," he chuckled.

After placing the leftovers in the fridge, he returned to Casey's room and found her sitting on the edge of her bed, picking at a ragged cuticle as she stared blankly ahead.

 “Would you like to talk?” He asked as he sat in an easy chair in the corner of the room.

“Not now,” she muttered.

“I brought my laptop; we could watch a movie if you like.”

She turned to him with a forced half-smile. “Maybe later.”

“All right,” he replied, pulling a book from his bag. “I told you, you don't have to say a word at all. But I'm here if you need me."

He flipped through the pages, and Casey, who hadn’t been showing interest in much, she suddenly wanted to know what Tobias was reading. He could feel the weight of her stare but pretended he didn't. She'd talk when she was ready, and when curiosity got the better of her, she asked. “What are you reading?”

Tobias held the book up for her to see. “Homeland Elegies.”

“Is it any good?”

“Not sure,” he shrugged. “I just started it. But it was on my buddy Barrack’s best books of 2020 list, so I’m confident I’ll like it.”

“Hmmm. You and Obama are on a first name basis now.”

“Well, duh,” he snorted.

“Maybe I can borrow when you’re done.”

“Do you want to read along with me now?” he asked.

“No,” she said, still no inflection in her voice. “Not now.”

Closing the book, he looked at her thoughtfully. “How much did you sleep last night?

“Sleep,” she chortled. “What’s that?”

He tilted his head, awaiting an answer.

“Three, four hours tops... it’s just hard... it’s... the nightmares.”

Tobias leaned forward, and Casey couldn’t miss the concern etched on his face. “The nightmares have started up again?”

“Just this week," she nodded. "Ever since I had another panic attack. Some of them make sense, like I’m back in that hospital room, alone, and the plastic sheeting starts to smother me... others are more abstract... like I’m in a dark room, and I hear these terrifying screams, but no matter what I do, I can’t find a light... I can’t find the person screaming, and I can’t make it stop. I wake up in sweat, and there’s no going back to sleep.”

“Have you told your therapist?”

She shook her head. “They started after our last session, but I’ll be sure to tell her this week.”

“Good,” he replied. “She’ll be able to help.”

“Tobias,” she said, her voice so soft and broken that it sounded more like a frightened little girl than the confident young woman she had become. “I just feel like... like I’m failing.”

“Failing?” He asked, brow furrowed. “How?”

“The attack was two months ago now; everyone's moving on, the world’s moving on... and I was doing better... you know I was... and look at me now. I'm a fucking mess. I feel like I’m right back where I started.”

“Casey. You experienced an extremely traumatic event, and two months is nothing. You’re doing great.”

“I thought I was. I was progressing, but the world is so damn dark again, and I feel like a failure.”

“Hey,” he moved closer and placed a hand on her knee. “Look at me. You are not a failure. Do you understand? Casey, progress isn’t a straight line, and setbacks are a normal part of recovery. Be gentle with yourself. I promise you, the sun will come out again; you won’t be in the darkness forever.”

“I want to believe that," she sniffled. "But right now... I can’t.”

“You don’t focus that far ahead. You just keep doing the work and get through the moment. I’ll believe for you until you can do it on your own because there is no doubt in my mind that you’ll get there.”

Casey took a deep breath and closed her eyes; when she opened them, she had the faintest of smiles on her lips.

“If I take a nap, would you stay?” She asked.

“Of course.”

“I’d like to shower first, though.”

“Yeah,” he chortled. “That might be a good idea.”

“Wow. Really?” she chided.

“Hey, tell me...” he teased. “When’s the last time you did?”

“Shut up,” she smirked, grabbing clean pajamas from her drawer. She stopped and ran her hands over the soft fleece, appearing to be deep in thought. “I really appreciate all you do for me, even when I can't show it. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” he smiled. “I'm happy to be here for you, Casey. Now go take that shower.”

“All right,” she grinned, and for the first time since he arrived, it was a genuine smile.

Once she was gone, he brought the leftovers to the kitchen. He could hear Casey and Sienna’s muttered voices at the end of the hall and picked up his pace to give them privacy, but as he returned to Casey’s room, Sienna turned away from the bathroom door, her cautious optimism morphing into absolute glee. Grabbing Tobias's arm, she pulled him toward Casey's room.

"You did it!" She beamed the moment the door closed behind them. "We've been trying to get her in the shower for days, and she wouldn’t budge. But you’re here less than an hour, and ... viola! I’m amazed!"

"Thanks,” he shrugged. "But I didn't do anything special. I just..."

A wave of the tiny but mighty woman's hand brought him to silence. "I know you're not the humble type, Tobias. So do me a favor and spare me the false modesty. Casey will be in there in ten minutes, tops, and I need your help here.”  

"Here?" He raised a brow. "In her bedroom?"

"Yes. I haven’t been able to get her to shower or change her bedding all week. You can help me with the bedding.”

“You sure that’s smart? I mean, you’re her best friend. I’m not sure she'd want me poking around her bed, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Sienna snickered. "I am her best friend, so I know where the toy drawer is. You don't have to worry about finding any under her bed."

"That's NOT what I meant!" he blurted, and Sienna took delight in his astonishment.

“I know,” she threw a comforter his way. “I'm teasing you.”

Tobias decided to focus on the task at hand, and they quickly changed the sheets and blankets. When Sienna fluffed Casey’s pillows, she stopped to watch Tobias tucking the bedding in so it was just right, and she felt her heart warming. 

“Tobias, can I be honest with you?"

"Of course."

"I was jealous of you right after the attack.”

“Of me? Why?”

“Because I’m Casey’s best friend, and she was rebuffing me and latching on to you.”

“But that wasn't anything against you. Casey was just dealing with... a lot, and it was easier to be around someone who was kind of an outsider like me. She was too afraid to let you down - it was nothing personal."

“I know that. That’s why I took a step back. Casey's well-being was all that mattered. She needed someone, and she had you. I want to thank you for everything you've done for her.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’m happy to help. If anything, I want to thank you.”

“Me?” Sienna asked. “Why?”

Tobias returned to the chair, pausing momentarily to choose his words.

“When Casey and I became friends again, after the attack... most of her friends all but threatened me. Actually, some did threaten me. And I understand why... given our history, there was reason to question my motives. I’m not stupid. But not you... you always made me feel welcome, and I appreciate it.”

“I just try to focus on the bright side,” she shrugged. “I saw you the night of the attack; no one can fake that level of worry and concern. It was clear how much you cared for her. I chose to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I have been watching you... I’ve watched you like a freaking hawk... and if I had seen the slightest reason to doubt you, I would have swooped in like you were an injured squirrel I planned to devour for lunch!”

“You know... you’re starting to scare me.”

“Good!” Sienna smiled. “But you never gave me a reason to worry. You’ve been nothing but helpful and kind, and it means so much to me.”

“Well, thank you for saying that. I promise you, Sienna, I’d never take advantage of her. I’d never hurt again. You have my word.”

Sienna grabbed a pillow from Casey’s bed and held it close against her chest. “I believe you,” she smiled. “Do you love her, Tobias?”

The tender moment changed in an instant when Tobias jerked into an upright position, his eyes as wide as if that hawk was swooping down for him after all.

“What?” he gasped. “Love? No! No... it’s not like that... we’re friends! I told you I want to help her. I’m not trying to get her into bed or anything! You have to....”

“Relax,” Sienna interrupted. “I’m not accusing you of anything sordid. I’m asking you if you love her.”

Tobias shifted uncomfortably, and Sienna was devastated that she wouldn't be able to share these delightful details with Casey later. The great Dr. Carrick sputtering like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar... no, she'd save this story for her wedding toast instead.

“I care about Casey.. very much, but no, no... it’s not love...it’s not....”

“OK,” Sienna said matter-of-factly; her words attempted to put him out of his misery, but she couldn't wipe away that smirk.

“What?” he asked defensively.

“Oh, nothing,” she sang. “But you seem to forget what I told you... I have been watching Tobias. And I see everything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded, but Sienna was already heading toward the door.

“Nothing. You’re free to join me in the living room until Casey’s done.”

Giving up on the conversation, Tobias picked up his book and got comfortable in the chair. “I’m good here... Varma’s inside, and... she scares me a little.”

“She scares everyone a little,” Sienna concurred. “You read, but I’m right down the hall if you need anything.”

“I appreciate it,” he nodded. “Oh, and Sienna, there is a ton of leftover Thai in the fridge. Feel free to have some.”

“That sounds great! I think I will.”  

“Oh, just one thing... don't eat the shrimp Pad Thai. That's Casey's favorite. I'd like her to have it when she's ready for a midnight snack."

"It is her favorite," Sienna said, her smile stretching ear to ear. "I wouldn't dream of touching it. And Tobias..." she said, slowly closing the door as she left.

"Yes?"

"Remember... I see everything."

If you're new to their story and want to read the next part as I fill in the gaps, you can read The Fine Print. Thanks so much for reading!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #sienna trinh #tobias x casey #playchoices #playchoices fanfic

[mafiasliege]

I dare you to let me go

(this is part 3 of my javery fanfic. Enjoy reading!)

Part 2↓

AVERY

If there's one thing Avery had learned as a 21 year old philanthropist, it's that it doesn't matter how rich you are or how many people you have working for you, if you want something done correctly, you have to do it yourself. 

She was beyond frustrated as she walked into the foyer of the Hawthorne House. It still gave her the same homely comfort. She couldn't wait to go to bed and fall asleep with Jameson wrapped around her. She missed seeing him awake. She sometimes hoped that he couldn't fall asleep so that they could talk and spend some time together. 

Where was he? She stopped walking when she saw Lyra in the solarium with a cigarette in one hand and a glass in the other. 

I should ask her. 

"Hey" 

"Oh look who decided to show up" Lyra seemed annoyed to Avery, but she couldn't make out why. 

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"What's wrong? You didn't even show up to your own birthday party!" 

"Wha-" realisation dawned on Avery mid-sentence. Her blood turned to ice as Lyra grew even more pissed than before.

"You're seriously not telling me you forgot your own birthday. I bet you don't even remember about last night's dinner plan with your beau." 

Dinner pla- the card. Oh no. 

She had it with her, but she'd forgotten to solve the riddle on it. But Lyra seemed agitated enough already, so she stayed quiet. 

"I'm so sorry, Ly. I'm so, so sorry. Where is everyone?"

Where is Jameson? 

"All about the house. I haven't seen Jamie, either. Maybe he's still waiting in the miserable little party room" she sassed, Avery couldn't blame her.

Her thoughts came to a screeching hault as she went to the ballroom. It was covered in platinum and violet decorations and a banner that said 'Happy Birthday to the Prettiest Girl on Earth!' It was gorgeous. Guilt hit her like a brick.

How many occasions like this had she missed and didn't know? 

"Avery?" 

"Xander."

"Where were you?" He said with a frown. Xander Hawthorne almost never frowned. She didn't answer Xander's question and instead asked her own.

"Where's Jameson?" 

"I don't know. He's probably tryna catch a breath in the solarium or the passageways." 

"Catching a breath?"

Yep. I've screwed up.

"Yeah. He seemed upset. We waited for you for two hours in a crouch. We're going to have a funeral for our toes," he told her. He didn't put his usual xander-esque sarcastic flair to it. 

Correction: I've screwed up, bad. 

Avery called Oren over and told him to find Jameson. 

In the time that Avery, Grayson and Xander got to Jameson's wing, everyone else had also started searching for him and tried to call him. She slipped inside his room. It always smelled so… him. He still wore the same perfume she got for him on his birthday. She pushed aside the nostalgia and started looking for anything that was out of order. So far, everything was normal - messy room, chair piled full of clothes. Pictures of her on his nightstand. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the bathroom door slightly ajar.

"We found nothing. Did you?" 

She could not did not answer Grayson and Xander as she pushed the bathroom door. It gave out a long squeak, as if to make a grand entrance to the horror it was. She heard Xander gasp and Grayson suck in a breath.

The mirror was shattered into a million pieces. The cracks were concentric, meaning he'd probably punched it. He had punched it, considering the crimson in the sink. Avery saw a thousand reflections of herself in the gleaming pieces. She recognised none. How could I have been so blind? She could feel the dread and panic brewing in her gut.

A box lay on the ground. She gingerly picked it up. 

"I'll go see if Oren found out anything" said Grayson, and took Xander away with him.

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

"He did what?" Avery said in disbelief.

"He was last seen at the airport." 

"And that's all you found out?" Asked Grayson.

"Yes. They said they were legally restrained from sharing the whereabouts of a person's private jets or their destinations." 

"He got a plane? When?" How would've been the better question, but she chose the indirect path of questioning. She knew he frequently visited the devil's mercy. He'd won The Annual Game twice now. She didn't know what he traded the winner's seal for the second time, but it was clearly enough to buy a plane. Another blow of guilt hit her at how different things were the first time he'd won versus now.

"An year ago. Probably to avoid getting found in situations such as this one."

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Did she miss more dates and break more promises than she would have liked? Yes. But he couldn't just up and go whenever and wherever. He couldn't fly off with zero explanations leaving her worried and confused.

He couldn't just leave like that.

Avery decided to ask Grayson to use his… resources, but he was already on the phone with his PI.

"It's getting late, kid. We should all get some sleep" said Nash, who'd spoken for the first time since the discussion started. Everyone started going back to their rooms. But Grayson followed Avery.

"Avery, wait." She turned around, knowing why he'd stopped her.

"I'm alright, Grayson, really. And he'll come back, I'm sure. This isn't him."

"And this didn't used to be you, either. But here we are."

"What does that mean?"

"It means Jamie isn't just 'coming back.' You're family, Avery. You've been one of us ever since you came here. But we've all seen you two for the last few years" he stopped talking, as if struggling to say what came after.

"You were there without really being there. And I understand, it's not easy, being so young and changing the world. Jamie waited for you and accepted bits and pieces because he loves you too much. But you did break his heart, and you weren't even there to witness it. You didn't even notice until he disappeared."

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

Avery got to her room and shut the door.

She pulled out the card- the one that Jameson gave her. It was a fairly easy riddle, easy because he might've been thinking she wouldn't waste spend too much time solving it.

Rrain oon oour rooffs imittates the soound of clapps blaaring in a ttheatre. <3

You just had to pluck out the unnecessary letters. And when the less-than symbol was inverted and attached to the 3, the kiss symbol looked like an 8.

Rooftop at 8. It said rooftop at 8pm, for a dinner plan. Probably followed by stargazing, as she loved to do. She'd rant about starts and constellations; how she felt slightly humbled staring at them, and Jameson would just listen fondly. She'd taken him for granted, hadn't she? And she could bet she hasn't been much humble at times, either.

But she'd always loved him.

She just hadn't shown it. That was probably one of her biggest regrets.

And then, only in the privacy of her room could she manage to open the box. She could not open it in that bathroom and risk crying in front of everyone. The tears started falling only after she flipped open the lid.

Nestled inside was an emerald-studded ring.

#the inheritance games #tig fanfic #jameson x avery #jameson hawthorne #avery x jameson #tig #the grandest game #avery grambs #the brothers hawthorne #averyjameson #javery #the hawthorne brothers #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #IDYTLMG

[dc418writes]

✨Pairing✨: serial killer!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader (ft. Robert Pronge)

Summary🪄: Never trust the back roads

⚠️: 18+, NO MINORS!! Soft,Dark!Ari, abduction, Minor character(s) death, mention of blood, a bit of Stockholm syndrome (maybe?), manipulation, language, hint of cult like lore/rituals

A/N🎤: Hey guys☺️! We got another spooky season themed piece based off Texas Chainsaw Massacre (movie and recently released game). Those who have read my works for a while know I usually stay in the lane of fluff, but as you’ve read above this is a bit darker in nature (please don’t read if any of the above warnings make you uncomfortable). So because this is new to me, I am v nervous lol but I hope those who read like it!

*Disclaimer!: although visual was made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found on Pinterest*

“I told you we should’ve stayed on the interstate,” Brittany quips crossing her arms across her chest. “Now we’re out of gas and stuck on this hick-town backroad.”

“Need I remind you we wouldn’t be in this situation if somebody would’ve been ready so we could leave on time,” her boyfriend, Adrian, retorts turning the key in the ignition again to get the same result of his Bronco sputtering before going silent.

“Don’t blame your laziness on me! Who doesn’t get gas before leaving?”

“I had enough to get us to the halfway point we were supposed to be at-!”

“Will both of y’all shut up?!,” Cassidy, your roommate and Brittany’s best friend, shouts successfully quieting the couple up front. “Giving me a headache.”

“Now what do we do?,” you softly ask nervously toying with the ring dangling from the thin chain around your neck.

“If we knew we wouldn’t be sitting here now would we?”

“Hey! I get it Brit your frustrated. Don’t take that shit out on Y/N or any of us,” Cassidy snaps. Her best friend only mumbles under her breath sinking a bit lower in her seat.

“I’m sorry, what was that?!”

“Enough!,” Adrian shouts making you jump while the other girls look out their respective windows. Sighing, he grabs his phone from the middle console before unbuckling his seatbelt and turning towards the rest of you. “Let’s try to come together, alright?” Ever the captain trying to rally the “team”.

“I’m gonna walk up the road and see if I can find a gas station or anybody that can help. You three stay here and keep trying your phones to see if you can get anyone.”

“You’re just gonna leave us here?!,” Brittany asks as if offended he would ever speak such a plan. He doesn’t have time to answer from the knock on her window startling everyone in the car. The stranger’s almond brown strands framed his rugged yet model-esque face as his lips curled into a friendly smile. His large palms shooting up in surrender with a quick, “sorry!” giving all of you a show of his thick biceps and the veins that travelled up his forearms.

“Didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to see if y’all were alright,” he speaks loud enough to be heard through the rolled up window. His deep voice and southern drawl prickles your ears - and shamefully, other more neglected parts - wanting to hear him talk all day and night if you could.

“Yea, just out of gas,” Adrian answers. “Know where the closest station is?”

“I happen to own one 10-15 minutes up the road. I could drive you if you want?”

“Fuck no, we’re not going with him!,” Cassidy whispers to Adrian. “Where did he come from in the first place?”

“Cass this might be the only help we get. I’m not about to pass up the chance to get out of here because of paranoia,” he replies before turning back to the handsome stranger. “Sounds good, thanks.”

Once he’s helped all of you into his older model truck, it doesn’t take long for him to start the engine carrying the four of you down the road. Adrian sat in the passenger seat while you sat in the middle of Brittany and Cassidy in the back. The three of you quiet as the men small talked.

Adrian introduced all of you and explained your summer vacation plans - much to Brit and Cass’ displeasure - to the former stranger now called Ari.

Occasionally he’d ask if you all were okay or needed the air changed. His eyes unknowingly lingering on you a tad longer as you nervously smoothed out the hem of your flowy floral dress.

Knowing what you do now, you would’ve stopped Adrian from accepting his help. From either of you getting in that red truck and falling for a kind smile and hypnotizing blue eyes.

-

Waking up, the panic returns to your body not being able to move your arms and legs far. The heavy shackles attaching them - and you - to the cold, metal table below make it near impossible as their chains rattle pulling your extremities back with a sharp thud.

“Might not wanna move too much sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to hurt those pretty little wrists of yours.” The fearfully familiar voice has tears brimming your eyes hearing his footsteps come closer and closer until he’s stopping at the table on the opposite wall handling some tool. Without your glasses, everything looks blurry which only adds to your fear.

You lost them as you were trying to run away from your other captor. Long, stringy brown hair and thin wire frames of his own, he always seemed to wear black gloves and an apron splattered with some liquid you didn’t want to think about every time he appeared. This last time somehow finding your latest hiding spot as you all tried to escape.

First you were right beside Brittany, both of you shoulder to shoulder sprinting and nearly out of breath. Then suddenly you were harshly falling to the ground having tripped over something. She kept going, ignoring your hurt form as you were pulled along the clay like dirt trying to wiggle free as you screamed and sobbed calling out for help.

“Shut up! Maybe if you would’ve stayed where we put you, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” he spat down at you clearly frustrated you were putting him through all this trouble.

After finally settling on the delicate scalpel, he slowly stalks across the surgical like room. Shoes tapping against the linoleum floor while he admired how it gleams in the fluorescent light with every slight twist of his hand.

“Now,” he grins leaning down close enough that you could feel the warm air from his nostrils blowing against your skin. Smell the smoke on his breath from his earlier cigarette. “How about we get you out of those filthy clothes, hm?”

The back of the scalpel runs along your sweaty collarbone as he placed it under your thin, spaghetti strap. With one tug he could easily break it giving free access to your chest - especially with your arms being held above your head.

“I told you she was for last Bobby,” Ari speaks approaching your table and making your heart sink further. His partner, well Bobby, rolls his eyes begrudgingly sitting up to meet him now standing right by your leg smudged in dirt.

“Welp, sometimes life has other plans,” he replies with that devious smirk. Ari’s bigger than the man in front of him, easily being able to move Bobby out of the way with the thick muscles along his arms and back - not to mention those thighs straining to break free from his blue jeans.

You feel like a lab rat being observed by scientists under their intense gazes. Ari’s, though, mixed with something tender - almost enamored - that has you surprisingly not cowering away when he reaches his hand out brushing a thumb along your cheek to wipe away a fallen tear.

“Please,” you whisper between your sniffles. “I-I’ll do anything.”

Those words coming from your pretty mouth sparked something in Ari he’d never felt in all these years.

Plenty of his victims pleaded that same thing offering him any and everything a man could ever want, but he never budged continuing on for the sake of his family’s lineage. There was something about sweet you though, practically dripping with innocence and this light Ari couldn’t help but fall for. He saw that while you sat in the backseat of his truck and at the gas station quietly sipping your soda off on your own as you looked out the window towards the lush grassland across the street sprinkled with wildflowers. He actually felt guilty when he had to knock you out, hoping he wasn’t scarring your soft skin too much when he’d drug you to the storm cellar with the others.

Immediately, he wanted you all for himself and was ironically desperate enough to do anything to make it happen.

“Oh sweetheart, we’ve heard it all before,” Bobby teasingly coos. Ari’s emotion stays unmoving still gently wiping away your tears.

“I promise I won’t say anything!”

“I won’t say anything!,” he mocks trying to imitate your fear stricken voice before laughing to himself. He returns back to the table full of tools trying to decide between the rusted scissors or the butcher knife for his next torturous instrument. “You’re all the same.”

Peering up at Ari with wet lashes and red eyes, you whimper another quiet “please” hoping to see your family again.

And for the first time since your capture, that charismatic smile finds its way back on his pink lips reminding you of when he first appeared outside the car. Giving you a small sense of hope you should’ve known not to trust.

“Tell you what, I’m feeling generous so I’ll make a deal with you,” Ari speaks sounding so smooth as if the current environment around him wasn’t real at all. Bobby isn’t happy though, from the way he drops his tools stalking over to Ari.

“Need I remind you of your little legend?”

“Everything will be fine. Especially when sugar here helps us.”

-

You can still hear Brittany’s screams coming from the room deeper in the basement. They’re faint, being however many feet upstairs in one of the older farmhouse’s bedrooms, but you can still hear the agony and fear laced within.

Hear the betrayal uttered along with every “no don’t!,” knowing you were ultimately the reason for her final capture - and soon death. Before she was taken herself, Cassidy found a hidden message on one of the walls describing how to get out using only Ls for left and Rs for right. Pictures meant to represent exits on how to leave the property that you all nearly found if not for the hidden traps.

A light tap on the door has you holding yourself tighter, moving slightly higher up the bed fearful of who could be on the other side. Luckily - or maybe not - it’s a blurry Ari holding something in his hands. His heavy steps stop at the edge of the bed gently placing something on the brown comforter. Cautiously, you reach out to feel the cool metal of your glasses excitedly placing them back on your face to find them cleaned and surprisingly without a scratch.

“I thought you’d need those.”

His strikingly handsome face is soft with a tilted smile as he hands you a glass of water you rush to take craving for the cool liquid to flow down your scratchy throat.

“Slow down sugar,” he chuckles. “There’s more.”

Now embarrassed, you slowly lower the glass from your chapped lips handing it back with a shy, “thank you,” before wrapping your arms around your middle again. “A-Am I going home now?”

He sighs clicking his tongue and rubbing the back of his neck with his bear paw of a hand as if not exactly knowing how to answer your question. His expression has your face falling in disappointment as well as confusion.

“‘Fraid not.”

“But…you told me you’d let me go?”

“And I did. You’re not in those rough shackles anymore are you?” You feel foolish thinking he’d actually help you this time. He’d shown you the knife before, yet you still openly turned your back as if he couldn’t stab you.

Were you really that naive? Or was it something deeper at work you were ashamed to admit?

“Aw don’t look so sad. I’m just looking out for you,” he explains perching on the corner of the full sized mattress. “The moment you show up back home without your friends all fingers are pointing towards you.”

“I’ll tell them we split up! That I don’t know what happened to them,” you cry.

“That’ll only get you so far before eyes are back on you sweetheart. Parents and friends of theirs saying how you have to know something. That’s when cops get more aggressive too.” Ari dares place his hand on your thigh as a sign of comfort, and you don’t remove it thinking how he was right.

You wouldn’t be able to play dumb for long before you’d appear even more suspicious to everyone. That then left you with two options: jail or hide away confirming your own death along with the others.

Tears quickly tumble from your eyes at your realization, but Ari’s there wiping them away as soon as they fall and leaving your skin tingly where he touched.

“I know I know, it’s a lot to take in. But I’ll be there to take care of you. Just like I took care of Brittany for you.”

“F-For me?,” you ask gazing at him with tears still falling as you silently hiccup.

He nods. “You didn’t know she was the one to trip you huh?” Part of him hated to be the one to break it to you, but on the other hand he could just eat you up like a little sugar cube how innocently oblivious you looked.

Not to mention how you still managed to look so pretty while you cried on his bed. It gave him other ideas, but he managed to push those away for now.

“She selfishly sacrificed you, so it’s only right she get the karma she deserved right?,” he asks gently squeezing your thigh.

You knew she never liked you. For whatever reason, always looking at you like an annoying little sibling being forced to tag along whenever Cassidy would invite you out with them. She was a true friend wanting you to experience more than the four walls of your dorm and your classrooms, while Brittany could care less about you.

Although it felt wrong to admit, you nod agreeing with the man doting on you making his tilted smile return - and that gooeyness to your insides.

“You won’t have to want for anything here with me sugar. I promise you that.”

Every fiber and cell in your body is warning you of his promises. Reminding you of everything you’ve been through up to that point. How you should be careful with the man in front of you, who had a deadly switch that could flip at any moment leaving you in clear danger.

Yet the way his blue eyes look at you - really see you, which is more than you experience from most people - you feel honored he’d retaliate on your behalf. You feel special receiving such loyalty and care.

And with that, you lean into his touch softly smiling as his thumb traces along your bottom lip. “Okay Ari.”

#ari levinson #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson au #red sea diving resort #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

[chrisgetsmewet]

Blurb

Pairing: matt×fem!reader

A/n: im not just saying blurb as the title like bitch this is a random blurb.

Summary: the triplets collab but from y/n's POV

I was driving to the triplets house it was like- 9pm and i was coming back from my job, at the bookstore.

I pulled into the driveway treding my way inside. If whatever was happening behind this door not something that is enjoyable i might actually breakdown.

I opened the door and walked up the stairs that led to the living room.

"You must be Y/N!" tara practically squealed i assume thats her, she's been all over my fyp and her quote 'tara yummy is a mindset'.

"Thats me" i said not sounding enthusiastic at all, tiredness spilling from my tone of voice. She pulled me over to the couch making me to trip a bit

"I bet it is-" larray started but got cut off by jake

"this is Matt's little gf isn't it" he teased

"You'reso dumb she literally said yes" tara replied smaking jake in the chest.

"Ow!" He rubbed where she hit him at

I just sat back and observed everyone standing around, talking showing videos to one another, making tiktoks and for background noise they have tara yummy plaing on the tv.

"You look tired" matt said sitting next to me placing his hand on my leg.

"yea great observation genius"

"Someones in a mood"

"Can you stop im actually tired and annoyed and i had a long day and i dont even wanna be on this couch rn i wanna take a shower then sleep" i said all in one breath then sighing, slumping back on the couch. I wish it would just swallow me whole, i totally just snapped on my boyfriend for no reason and the guilt is already killing me.

I get a couple of stares from like two people which was johnnie and sam but it wasn't long until they were back to talking to eachother.

"Whoa, whoa, it was just a joke" he put his hands up surrendering, defending himself.

"Im sorry.." a light whisper came out i couldn't do it anymore, i got up and walked to matts room where i have plent of oths that i left there so i can get cleaned even if i didn't i could just wear his clothes.

I could hear Matt's or whoever was following me footsteps behing me.

" what's up with you? You're acting so tense" he said softly, i can tell he was worried but i didn't need him to be i just needed him to give me a hug or just comfort me in anyway possible.

"What are they doing here matt?"

"It's just a collab and we're about to go to top golf. You can come if you want" he suggested which didn't sound to bad if i wasn't tired.

"I'd rather not" i declined his offer, here comes the guilt creeping over my shoulder again almost making me changw my mind.

"Then i won't go either"

"No matt you have to go, i get enough hate as it is and it's finally getting better bad enough people think i stopped you from going to tara yummys party i really dont wanna ruin this collab please- just go"

As always i never really wish him away, selfishly i don't ever want him to leave me but as a youtuber or an influencer i know it's his job so sometimes being selfish isn't always the answer especially with the outcomes and all the backlash i get from it.

"Look i can cancel-"

"No. Go. don't make this hard"

"I love you baby, you don't gotta wait around for me"

He opened the door but larray was already about to open.

"Oh.. well they wanted me to get you, they said we're about to go"

"I was heading out anyway" he said grabbing larray's arm and dragging him where everyone else was.

I heard the front door closing the chatter leaving the house i let out a heavy breath that i didn't even know i had i pick out some comfortable clothes, and head to the shower.

-

I get some strawberries that surprisingly didn't go bad out the fride and place them in a glass bowl, on my way to the room i get a notification from instagram it was larray posting on his story.

It was matt playing golf, this made me kinda feel bad for turning down his offer and not going with them normally i don't get fomo but this made me feel really left out but it was my fault so i had no one to blame but the one feeling this way.

I just go in the room and sit on my bed promising myself not to open my phone any.ore unless someone texted me, which i doubt so i put on netflix, i chill in Matt's bed finishing my strawberries, i put them on the stand by his bed and get comfortable in the bed that i was laying in moving around a bit to find the comfortable position once i found it i didn't move. Causing me to drift off into peaceful sleep.

all the working around all day in a library, to driving to this very moment where i can sleep and not feel any shame for it cause it was well deserved this felt so worth it i wish i could share some of this time with matt, but it's ok cause the sent of him still lingered around jn his bed so that counted as something.

A/n: this isn't proofread and i got lazy at the end ik shame on me but i have this good idea but idk how to put it into words so ig i just can write it 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #collab #type shit #tara yummy #larray #y/n

[warden-melli]

I find your headcannons really interesting and wanted to know if you had any other headcannons you haven't shared before

Thank you ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ Honestly I have more headcanons that I haven’t shared than ones that I have lol (I assume you mean pokemon/pla/Melli hcs)

I’d be happy to share some right now, but let me know if there’s any particular character/topic that you’d be interested in hearing about? Sorry if I’ve shared some of these before, but I can’t remember 100% what I have/haven’t shared before lol

PLA HEADCANONS

• While Adaman is several years older than Irida, their birthdays fall on the same day of the month, exactly 6 moths apart

• If Irida hadn’t become leader of her clan she would have pursued a career as a healer, specifically focused on traditional Hisuian herbal medicine

• Melli spends a lot of time on Mt Coronet practicing his singing. As all of his pokemon are nocturnal he often heads up there at night where he can sing undisturbed. Sometimes he sings songs with words, but often he’ll just vocalise, practicing his highs notes to no one in particular. His voice is beautiful, but can be quite eerie without context, especially to frightened travellers trying to cross the mountain range at night. He is unknowingly (yet directly) responsible for many a ghost story told across the Hisui region. Melli rejects these tales of so called spirits and disembodied voices that echo across the highlands, insisting that he’s up there all the time and has never seen or heard a thing!

• In addition to his role as Warden Iscan is also the Diamond clans head fisherman and is essential to keeping his clan fed, especially over the harsh winters. He writes journals full of poetry and stories while out on the shoreline, often inspired by traditional tales, as well as his observations of the land and the adventures he witnesses across it. Many of his works will one day end up on display in the Canalave library in modern Sinnoh

• Gaeric is actually quite a bit older than he looks. In addition to his position as warden he is also in charge of gathering wood and timber for the Pearl clan, and has an eye for finding the most high quality trees. He was taught all he knows by his mother, who previously held the position before retiring from logging. She is now in charge of replanting the trees that are cut down so that the balance of nature in Hisui is preserved

• While Irida had Palina as a rival when they were both competing for the title of leader, Adaman’s bid for the position went completely unchallenged, with no one else from his clan putting their name up for consideration. He took over the title directly from his grandfather, who was the previous leader of the Diamond Clan

• Sabi is a orphan, and her pokemon partners were directly inherited from her parents. Instead of having a sibling relationship with her pokemon (which is typical for people of the Hisuian clans) they watch over her in more of a parental way, protecting her fiercely as if she were their own

• Ingo refuses to part with his hat and coat, no matter how damaged and tattered they become after enduring years of sneasel claws. While he can’t remember his past at all, bits and pieces subconsciously come through. It’s these subconscious memories of the battling rules and formats from his previous life which leads to Ingo accidentally “inventing” the modern battling systems/rules that would later become adopted across most regions in the future. Classic bootstrap paradox. Ingo learned to battle in the future > falls to the past and “invents” the modern battle system using memories from the present > then one day many years in the future Ingo learns the modern battle system > falls to the past and…. You get the idea lol

I have a ton more to share, so let me know if you’d like to hear more ˙ᵕ˙

#pokemon legends arceus #legends Arceus #pokemon #warden melli #Adaman #Irida #warden Iscan #warden gaeric #warden sabi #warden ingo #warden palina #ask Melli #expiredmilk0912

[lovebitesimagines]

Delicate- Chapter One

I’ve never imagined how I would fall in love. Strange, I know. Most girls my age have already experienced the thrill of finding their sweethearts, with some having sampled a few of Camdens’ most eligible Bachelors, before settling for The One. Me? No. I’m twenty-five years old and kept under lock and key in my ivory tower. The difference is, no Prince Charming will ever be brave enough to attempt a rescue. That is asking for trouble. I might as well be handing them a shovel to dig their own grave. My father has often threatened to put a bullet in the skull of any man who dared steal a glance in my direction. I wouldn’t doubt that he would act upon his threats. After all, he is the most notorious gangster in Camden town. Lucky me.

 Being the only daughter of Alfie Solomons sure does come with its challenges. Don’t get me wrong, there are the odd perks. I can’t deny that I enjoy the luxury of having a vast selection of dresses at my fingertips, but what is the point if I can’t even wear them anywhere? It’s almost as if I have a wardrobe filled to the brim to appease the shadows on my wall. Not many know of my existence, only a select, well trusted few. I spend my days confined within the grounds of the Solomon manor, and even then, that still comes with its restrictions. Do not enter this room, do not enter that room, don’t even think about stepping into the front grounds. God forbid one of the mere mortals spot me, and ignite a spark of gossip so fierce, that it sets the whole of Camden alight. So, this is where I have spent the majority of my life, locked inside the cages of the prison my father has created. A prison risen from the ashes of his own insecurity and fear over loosing me, like he did my mother.

 “Any tea today dear?” Louisa, my housemaid and in some ways my only friend, asked. She is, I presume, in her early fifties, with hair tilting on the edge of grey with peaks of her previous red strands still woven through. I’ve known Louisa since the moment I was born and have gained comfort from her soft Scottish accent on more than one occasion. She had chosen not to have any family of her own, stating that me and my father where the only family she’d ever need. She bustled into my room, expertly balancing a tray laden with a teapot, cups and a selection of cakes. I felt my mouth water slightly at the sight, hopping down from my seat at the windowsill.

 “I wouldn’t say no to a cup” I responded, a small smile playing upon my lips, as I made my way over to her. “And is that a lemon drizzle cake I see before me?”

 “Indeed, it is. I thought you would enjoy a sample” she laughed, placing the tray down upon my dresser. The China clinked gently upon the impact, Louisa reaching forward for the tea pot.

 “One may presume that this is some sort of deliciously cruel distraction technique” I supressed a laugh. Louisa paused briefly, only for a short moment, before beginning to pour the tea, the amber liquid splashing into the cup. I felt my heart stutter, as I struggled to subdue the excitement that gradually sprang in the pits of my stomach. “Louisa. Is it a busy day in Casa del Solomons?”. I attempted to make my voice appear humorous, injecting some form of jokefulness into my words, but even I could hear that my tone fell flat.

 “You know I have no insight into your fathers’ doings Adina” Louisa sighed as she spoke, placing two sugar cubes into the tea- just as I liked it. She picked up a spoon, absent mindedly stirring it as she continued. “However, I have heard there may be some important visitors arriving today. I’ve been given strict instructions to ensure you stay on the upper floor”.

 “I know, I know. Stay upstairs Adina, or people will see you. God forbid people see me Louisa” I muttered, as she gently pushed the tea into my hands. I took a small sip, enjoying the warmth as it slipped down my throat. A sad smile formed upon Louisas’ lips, as she awkwardly brushed down her apron.

 “I know child. I know” she placed a hand upon my arm as she spoke, her brown eyes looking into mine. I could see the sadness sketched upon the corners of her eyes, settling into the grooves. “Please listen to me today. Try not to give an old woman a heart attack before her time”. She let her hand fall to her side, her eyes giving a quick scan across my room, not that there was anything for her to sort. I had the usual pile of books placed precariously upon my bedside table, a dreamers’ perfect escape. And I was the best kind of dreamer. “I’ll be back up later to collect your tea things and take you down for supper”. Louisa turned her back to me, quickly making her escape. I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to be stuck up here too, if I could help it.

 I exhaled, picking up a slice of the lemon drizzle cake she had left. On any normal day- if you could call my mundane existence normal- it would have brought me joy. However, knowing that the World still moved on around me and I continued to be detained, no amount of my favourite sweet treat could subdue the despondency I felt. Holding both my cup and slice of cake, I made my way back over to my seat on the windowsill. Apart from reading, this was my favourite way to pass the time. One of my fathers’ many Golden Rules, was to not set foot in the front grounds. Yet he never said I couldn’t look.

 With my back pressed against the side of the window frame, I took another sip of my tea, my eyes scanning the outside. I had to admit, that it was impressive. Trees lined the driveway up to my house, casting shadows across the grounds. My father took pride in the flowers the gardeners grew, a scatter of rainbows across the cobbled stones. It was beautiful, but there was only so much beauty his money could buy. It was a rare day of sunshine in Camden, after a few days of rain, and my room was slowly becoming uncomfortably hot.  I placed my cup of tea on the ledge beside me, before prising open my window a touch, allowing a welcoming cool breeze to enter my room.

 I heard the commotion, before I saw it. The dull roar of an engine, the crunch of the cobbled stones as wheels drove over them. A black car moved into my line of sight, before coming to a standstill near the front entrance of my home. My fathers’ workers hustled and bustled below my window, ensuring that the illusion of perfection was maintained. These visitors must be important.

 I pressed my face closer against the windowpane, feeling the warmth of the glass against my forehead. I was desperate to get at least a glimpse of these visitors, these who had been deemed significant enough to receive an invite here. My fathers’ right hand man, Ollie, rushed to open the door to the vehicle. He was mere moments too late, before the door swung open, making him stumble slightly to the side.

 I watched as three men began to exit the car, one after the other. They were dressed in a similar fashion, as if they had agreed upon a uniform prior to arriving. I could see a peak of three-piece suits hidden underneath heavy overcoats. Their dark laced boots moved almost noiselessly against the cobbled stones, almost like they even brewed fear in the small slabs underneath their feat. Their uniform was topped off with newsboy caps, which cast small shadows against their faces, cruelly obscuring me from fully being able to identify these three strangers. Yet I could sense the darkness that shrouded the trio, who at this moment where being led in by Ollie, seemingly having recovered from his brief social faux-pax. They all appeared to be deep in conversation, although I could not quite decipher the words they spoke, their Birmingham accents floating up to my window with low murmurs.

 The third man began to trail behind, before pausing for a brief moment, halting just on the edge of my eyeline. I watched as he scanned his surroundings, almost as if a hunter would scan for his pray, his expression partially shadowed by the peak of his cap. I placed my fingertips upon the windowpane, as if I subconsciously desired to touch him. Who was he? I watched in anticipation as his eyes slowly moved up the building, before settling upon mine. A breath hitched in my throat, as our eyes met, a smirk springing upon his lips.

 Stillness enveloped me.

 His eyes where the shade of blue that drew you in under false pretences, the kind that lulled you into a flawed sense of calmness. Yet even from the distance that settled uneasily between us, I could sense the storm that brewed beneath his guarded expression, and I just wanted to dance in his rain. I wanted to breathe in all of his secrets and know every inch of the parts he kept cleverly hidden from the world. He lifted his right hand in a gesture of greeting, the smirk growing in prominence, before he made his way inside.

 Electricity coursed through my veins, as I stood up, ignoring the clatter of the crockery that fell to the floor as I stumbled slightly in shock. Who was he? I knew in that moment, that I just needed to find out. To hell with the rules and restrictions.

 I made my way towards my bedroom door, pausing in front of my dresser mirror, taking in my reflection. My eyes where glinting with childlike excitement, a rare flush colouring my cheeks and painting my chest with pink blotches. A man like him would never be interested in the girlish caricature I was currently portraying. I frantically brushed down my dress, giving the fabric a quick glance over- thankfully, it appeared that no tea had tainted the light green skirts. My hair was in its normal midday style, the blonde waves beginning to frizz slightly. It would have to do, I thought, attempting to convince myself that I had no interest in speaking to the stranger. I just wanted to get a closer look.

 I carefully lent up against my bedroom door, pressing my ear against the wood. I could hear nothing outside, but I couldn’t make the foolish assumption that it was safe. My hand gripped the cool metal of the door handle, turning it slowly as I pushed against it. I paused briefly, knowing that if anyone was in the corridor, I would soon be frantically hurried back inside my room. Stillness.

 I crept outside.

 I knew that the three strangers would most likely be in my fathers’ office, which was down a small flight of stairs, tucked away in the shadows of the foyer. I was aware of the risks that faced me if I was to continue with this, but I knew that the reward would far outweigh it. I needed to know who he was.

 I moved down the corridor, ensuring that I stayed close within the shadows. I muttered a silent thank you to my father, and his penchant for enjoying the darkest of finest things, which unbeknownst to him, provided me with many a hiding space. Maroon drapes were suspended against the walls, softly smothering the light which came through the few open windows. Dust particles danced in the rare streams of light which had escaped through the fabric, disturbed at me moving through their space.

 I made my way to the top of the staircase, the wooden floorboards protesting feebly under my weight. I could feel my heartbeat stutter against my ribcage, with each step downwards I made, before I made it onto the bottom floor. I halted at the final step, testing the safety of my surroundings, before creeping towards the direction of my fathers’ office. I was thankful again for my father in that moment, and the incomprehensible fear he instilled in his workers, for there was not a soul in sight.

 I paused at his office door, almost unable to believe that I had made it this far. I was riding on the coattails of luck, not daring to believe that it would soon surely run out. I could hear my fathers’ voice drift out from the small gap between the door and floor, as I brought myself down into a crouch, again pressing my ear against a door. I smiled slightly to myself. I had become quite a dab hand at spying. I listened to the mingling of three voices, as they melted together, each one fighting to gain the upper hand in the conversation.

 Three voices.

 Not four. Unless he was a silent observer, which judging by the glimpse I had procured of him, I very highly doubted it.

 Suddenly, it didn’t feel right to be where I was. I knew in that moment, my luck was slowly running out, slipping out of my fingers like the finest grains of sand. And in the moment, I felt a hand grip my shoulder from behind, I knew my luck had been non-existent in the first place.

 “Are you spying on me and my brothers?”

#peaky #by order of the peaky blinders #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #PEAKY FOOKIN BLINDERS #tommy shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #Tommy Shelby imagines #alfie x reader #Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine

[onestepbackwards]

(Chatting)

I know a lot of people love the Self-Aware Au.

But I can’t help imagining the Hisui residents being in another universe that playing PLA gives us access to. They are unable to see us but can feel us looking over the MC’s shoulder.

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Most of them brushed it off during the first few days. There were enough things to worry about before Ward (and wasn’t that just the oddest name for a young girl) fell from the Rift... Until they started noticing something following the sky-faller. It seemed to have some control over the girl if all the inhuman feats she pulled off were any indication. Not to mention everyone could feel it looking at them from behind her.

The first few signs were hard to miss. Ward was able to stay up for several days and nights going on surveys. Except she started sleeping through entire days, getting up at specific times, went out to catch, and repeat. Her throw accuracy topped even that of Captain Cyllene, though according to the Professor she would occasionally break a ball on a tree. Secondly—Ward never seemed to get dirty despite being in the wilds for so long. How ironic dirtiness would be more normal than her spotless ness.

Pokemon caught by the corps member would rarely if not ever misbehave. She tamed them in some unseen ways but even too-powerful ones who ignored her commands never grew hostile. They were too frightened to tell her off for sending out Pokemon inside Jubilife Village.

(Marie seemed to be affected when she didn’t mind how peculiar the Pokemon were. How did a wooden fence stop them from rampaging???)

It could also predict what their requests were going to be. Ward spent many weeks religiously catching Buizel before taking Dorian’s request. His new Buizel was the exact size he had been looking for to aid his original one. Beauregard got three new Wurmples with the being saying something about Beautifly being impossible to get with one. And wasn’t that a shock! The non-human thing would make rare comments on issues—it seemed to have selective hearing...

A rather startling surprise came when it left Ward standing in place. She didn’t talk but they heard her hum, saw her fidget, even stretch.

Never did the being get truly mad. Frustrated over losing the chance to catch a rare Pokemon was the closest. But a poor Agriculture corps man was left shaking after Ward listened to him talk about his Cherrim request. Kichi described the absolute hate directed at him for half hour from it. First, he felt its gaze focus on him more intently than a casual glance over. Then he could feel the thing glaring at him and its voice complained so much about how stupid Cherrim was! He just wanted to see the complete entry!

It got mad enough to leave Ward stuck for a few minutes in front of Kichi. So. The entity didn’t like all Pokemon as its dedication to the Pokedex project indicated...............

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Otherwise, us playing through Day and Night cycles. Sleeping at camp. Getting through requests as quickly as possible. And hearing about the dreaded Cherrim quest yet not knowing who exactly gave it to us.

I might write more of this. What do you think?

These ideas are very interesting, building off of that last ask 👀

Idk, just the idea of characters being wary of a ‘vessel’ is pretty neat.

To everyone, it’s just weird. No one really knows how to react to the hero, seeing as they are just… only somewhat there? Just a puppet to whoever is really in control. It makes conversations… tense.

And seeing everything they do… being able to sleep like a rock without moving a muscle, as much as needed, at any time. It has people on edge. Especially since despite how the hero may sleep in the weirdest places at the weirdest times, pokemon don’t attack the camp.

Sometimes the hero will just stare in the fields at nothing, standing there for hours. Sometimes even days.

If you watch them long enough, you start to notice how often they repeat thing. The same exact stretch, the same exact look around, the exact same hum.

It’s unnerving.

Sometimes the people think it’s better if they leave the hero alone…

Best not to poke the beast behind the hero. The one they cannot see.

#ask #hisuian-history-makers #pokemon #pla #zed.talks #self aware pokemon #self aware au #long post