#cracks begin to form art tag

[coldresolve]

weve got a gore theme going today anyway, so have this old piece of when nor put a knife in claes' mouth and did a swoosh

#art #claes #cracks begin to form art tag #swoosh #blood #lascerations #face trauma #mouth trauma

[scarletlizzard]

Valentines Day

Pairing: wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: fluff, tooth rotting fluff, smut, fingering, strap on use (R receiving), oral (W receiving), blink and you'll miss it parent trauma, love ×4, reader being a hopeless romantic

Masterlist

A/N: Happy Valentines Day, my loves!! I hope everyone has a wonderful day filled with love. And if you don't have a Valentine, you do now! ❤️ Just remember you're loved beyond what you think 😊

Thanks for reading! Be my Valentine?

□ Yes

□ No

■ In a delusional relationship with Wanda Maximoff

(I totally understand, you picked correctly)

❤️❤️❤️❤️

Valentines Day was a special day for you.

You loved, love. The idea of being in love, the idea of someone loving you. Every year it came around, you wished you had someone to spoil with love and flowers and notes. To feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Thankfully, love came in many different forms.

10 Years Old

"What's a Valentine?" You hear from across the room a girl ask your teacher. The class was working on Valentines Day cards during art. You quickly looked up from the card to see the teacher walk to the girl.

"Well, you can ask someone to be your Valentine, or someone could ask you," she says softly and leans down over the brown headed girls' desk. "You see a valentine can be anyone special to you. A friend, a love, anyone you admire."

The small girl nods thoughtfully and looks back towards you. With wide eyes, you blush and look back to the card you were working on, coloring in a crooked heart on the front.

"Who's your Valentine?" The boy sitting next to you asks, causing giggles from the classroom.

"My valentine," she thinks for a moment and looks around the room. "Well, all of you, of course!" The class laughs again, and you can't help the smile on your small face.

"And who is your Valentine, Pietro?" The teacher smirks at the boy next to you. He doesn't move or cower, but with confidence, he stands and looks at the table next to you.

"Mary, will you be my Valentine?" Pietro asks a tiny girl with glasses and blonde pigtails. Her face turns red as the class laughs.

You can hear them talking as you continue to work on your card, putting extra care into the portrait inside. To anyone else, it was a child's drawing, but to you, it was your best work. You finish coloring, and with your best handwriting, you sign the card, adding a few more hearts.

Pietro nudges your shoulder, causing you to close the card quickly.

"That was easy! Who is yours?" he smiles and tries to grab your card.

"Pietro, stop!" You groan as you push him away, the two of you laughing as you play. He finally gives up, and you hold the card to your chest.

"Fine, don't tell your best friend.." Pietro says and shakes his head, smiling.

At the end of every day, you meet the Maximoffs out front of school to walk home. Today, you were met with only Wandas smiling face.

"Where's Pietro?" You ask as the two of you begin to walk side by side.

"He's walking with Mary ," Wanda giggles and jumps over a large crack in the sidewalk. You think back to earlier when she asked the teacher what a valentine was, and you stopped walking.

She gives you a curious look as you take your backpack off and set it on the ground, opening it up.

"I um.. I have.. well, here," you manage to get out, handing the card you so carefully made to Wanda. She smiles as she takes it from you, staring at the heart on the front. When she opens it inside, she sees a drawing of the two of you, the words inside:

Thanks for being my best friend

Will you be my Valentine?

To: Wands

From: Y/N

The writing is messy and crooked, as you were a better artist than you were with words. By now, your backpack was back on, and Wanda looked to you with a wide grin.

"Of course I will!" She laughs excitedly and throws her arms around you in a quick hug. A weird feeling in your stomach happens as she does, but you ignore it and hug her back.

Wanda takes your hand and begins walking again, swinging your hands back and forth and holding the homemade card in her other hand.

"Y/N?" Wanda asks as the two of you reach her house.

"Yeah, Wands?" You smile at her and watch as she picks a red flower out of the bush in her front yard. She hands it to you with red cheeks.

"Since we're best friends, we should be Valentines every year." You take the flower and smile.

"Every year?" You ask her. Wanda nods quickly.

"Okay then, Valentine. Every year!" The two of you laugh and go your separate ways.

17 Years Old

You stand at your open locker, switching out books between classes when a person hits their back against the locker next to yours.

"What are your plans tomorrow?" He asks and raises an eyebrow, signature smirk on his lips. You think about the card in your backpack and shrug, looking to the blonde haired boy.

"I don't think I'm doing anything this year," you mumble. Pietro frowns and gives you a confused look.

"I thought you and Wanda always do something?" He asks, and you sigh, looking away.

"She'll probably do something with Jarvis. He is her boyfriend..."

"Oh whatever, the guys a loser," Pietro scoffs and looks at you with a knowing eyes.

"Did you ask anyone else?" He asks, again, knowing.

You shake your head. "Not this year."

You look up at him and follow his gaze down the hall. Wanda stood talking to Jarvis, seeming to have a heated discussion. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the boy.

"Hey, I can be your Valentine. I mean, close enough to Wanda, right?" Pietro smiles at you, and you raise an eyebrow, cheeks heating.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you shrug and close the locker. He laughs.

"Oh, you're right. I have no clue that you're in love with my sister, my mistake," he puts his hands up in defense, another smirk on his face. "I'm not as dumb as you two think I am. Certainly not as dumb as her for not getting it...." Pietro puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Is it that obvious?" You groan and rest your head against his shoulder. He hugs you tightly.

"Painfully..." He chuckles.

So there you sat on Valentines Day in your bedroom, for the first year without a Valentine.

Every year you and Wanda would do something together, you would always make her a card. She would always get you flowers. Maybe you would watch a movie or take a walk to the 24/7 dinner that serves your favorite pancakes.

You had two partners before, both cut short due to the fact that your heart belonged to someone else. Wanda also had boyfriends and girlfriends before, but they never stayed together long enough to matter, and she never seemed to have one during Valentines.

You knew eventually it would happen.

Eventually your best friend, who you were deeply, fucked up ridiculously, in love with, would be with someone else. You hadn't told her how you felt, because you didn't want to ruin what you had... you weren't sure if she felt the same way and you couldn't risk the friendships of the two most important people in your life.

So you were trying to be okay with the fact that you were by yourself. You put on a stupid cheesy rom com on your laptop and pulled the blanket up on your chest. Trying not to think of Wanda.

A noise against the window disrupts your train of thoughts. You groan and turn up the movie, but the tapping sound happens again, and again.

Until finally, you hear a 'crack' and sit up quickly. You turn to your right to the window and see a small crack in your window, thankfully not splintering off into more cracks. When you walk over and look outside, you see Wanda down below with her hands on her mouth. You open the window and look down at her with a surprised expression.

"Wanda.. what are you doing here? And why are you breaking my window?" You whisper down to her.

"Oh my god, I-I'm so sorry! I was trying to throw rocks! You know? Like in those movies you love!" She's laughing nervously now, and you can't help but laugh with her. "Can I come up?" She asks, and you nod, waving your hand.

You quickly step back to check yourself in the mirror, running your fingers through your messy hair and groaning at the sight of your red looking eyes. You rub them a little as you hear Wanda climbing into the window.

"That tree gets harder to climb every year," she mumbles to herself and plants her feet on the floor, smiling at you. The two of you stand staring for a moment in silence.

"Hi..." Wanda whispers, coaxing you as she takes a step forward. You roll your eyes playfully and laugh.

"Hi..." You whisper back, looking to her hand behind her back.

"You um, you didn't make me card this year," her voice is soft, tone almost hurt sounding. You look around the room and shrug.

"I wasn't sure if I should." As you speak, she holds out a red rose, the same rose she gave you every year from the bush in front of her house. You take it with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as her fingers brush against yours.

"Well, it's okay, you're still my Valentine." Wanda speaks matter of factly and puts her hands in her jean pockets. You raise an eyebrow at her.

"But what about...?" You ask, hinting to her boyfriend. Wanda nods and hums.

"Well, we uh, broke up yesterday."

"Wanda.. why didn't you tell me?"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" She asks back, ignoring your question. You frown.

"Your name?" You raise an eyebrow, confused. Wanda moves to sit on the edge of your bed, resting her hands on her knees.

"You've called me Wands since we were 10 years old. The past couple of months, you haven't said it once..."

And there it was again, the hurtful tone of voice and sad green eyes. Had you really not? The couple of months she's been.. dating Jarvis. You've been trying to hold back, you hadn't even realized.

Instead of speaking, you turn your back and reach for your backpack by your desk, pulling out a homemade card. With red cheeks, you hand it to her, standing in front of her nervously.

Wanda smiles at the front, a detailed heart on the cover. Inside was an intricate penciled portrait of her, down to every detail. The smile lines on her cheeks, the few freckles, that could have formed a constellation, spread on her face. She half gasped half chuckled as her fingers traced the lines, along with the heartfelt words you wrote beside it. At the bottom signed:

Thanks for being my everything

Will you be my Valentine?

To: Wands

From: Y/N

"You know, for such an amazing artist, your handwriting still looks like it did in grade school," she jokes as she looks up at you. You finally break a smile at the comfort of her joking demeanor. You sit next to her on the bed and stare at the rose in your hand.

"I don't think it'll ever get better," you sigh with a chuckle, feeling her shoulder press against yours. There's a quiet moment before she speaks again.

"I couldn't see him being my Valentine," Wanda speaks quietly, turning to face you. You do the same, heart in your throat. "I couldn't see him being my anything, really..." She leans closer, you can smell the scent of her cinnamon gum and vanilla perfume as she does.

"Oh?" You swallow hard as her face is inches from yours. She nods slowly.

"There's really only one person I want... but I don't know if she feels the same," Wanda mumbles, eyes glancing from your lips back to your eyes.

"I'm sure anyone, especially her, would love to have you," you whisper, feeling her arm move around your waist.

"You think so?" A small smirk on her lips makes the butterflies in your stomach flap their wings.

"Definitely..." You nod, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek.

It's when Wanda leans in and closes the space between you, her soft lips moving against yours, that the butterflies inside of you soar.

21 Years Old

Wanda giggles as she pulls you inside her bedroom, shutting the door. She wastes no time pressing your back against it, her lips attaching to the curve of your neck.

"Happy Valentines Day, babygirl..." Wanda whispers against your skin. You smile and grip onto the back of her shirt tightly.

"Happy Valentines, Wands..." You rasp out as she sucks harshly on your pulse point. "Oh! Y-Your card," you moan as her hands find their way under your dress.

Wanda pulls back with a smile, "Y/N, do we really need to worry about the card right now?" You take in her puffy red lips and darkened eyes, the way her hair was already ruffled from when your fingers tangled through the strands. She looked like she wanted to devour you.

"I um guess we can probably worry about that later," you giggle and lean in.

"Thank god," She laughs as she meets you, kissing your lips with the same passion she always did. You can taste the alcohol on her tongue as she slides it into your mouth. Wanda lifts your dress up your thighs, her knee pressing between your legs.

"I'm so glad you wore this pretty dress to dinner," she groans into your mouth, grabbing your hips and pushing them down. You grind yourself onto her thigh, feeling yourself become wetter with every move of her leg.

"Just for you, baby," you moan and hold onto the sides of her neck, fingers brushing against her sharp jaw.

"That's right sweetheart move your hips- just like that, fuck you're so pretty..." Wanda purrs and lets her lips travel back to your neck. You feel the burn in your stomach become hotter, coiling up inside as your clit rubs against the rough fabric of her pants. You can't help the whimper escape your lips as your desperation builds.

"Wands, I need you to touch me please," you beg.

She doesn't waste another minute taking you to her bed, the two of you undressing each other as you stumble backward giggling. You loved that about Wanda, how comfortable she always made you feel in every moment. That even in the most intimate of moments, you could still laugh.

You lay your head down onto her pillow, the tantalizing smell of vanilla and Wanda invading your senses, as she crawls on top of you. She kisses every inch of skin she can, whispering sweet words as she does. Your hands grab onto any part of her that you can, nails scraping the skin of her back.

"Just like that baby?" Wanda smirks as two fingers slip inside of you, pumping in and out at an even pace. You moan at her words and nod, holding onto the back of her neck.

"Y-Yes just like that fuck!" She watches your chest become red, spreading up to your neck and cheeks. Wanda would never get tired of that fucking blush. It only drove her to move her fingers faster, curling them inside of you as she did. Her mouth collides against yours in another heated kiss, the two of you moaning into the other.

She feels you tighten around her fingers and whispers, "Cum for me babygirl. That's it, that's it baby.." coaxing the orgasm out of you.

Wanda gives you a moment to come down before removing her fingers. As she kisses your jaw, you let out a happy sigh.

"Let's try it out," you whisper, nodding your head in the direction of the new box on her end table. Wanda pulls back with a glint in her eye.

"Yeah?" She smiles widely, and you nod, watching her closely as she stood from the bed.

You don't think you would ever get over seeing your girlfriend, bare for your eyes only. She was beautiful, the most perfect woman alive. It doesn't take long for her to climb back on top of you, this time with a strap attached at her hips.

"It might be a little bit uncomfortable at first, but it'll feel so good," she assures as she presses the tip up and down your slick folds, your arousal wetting the plastic cock easily. "Just tell me if it's too much, okay?"

Wanda gives you a serious look, making your heart swell at the care she took in you. You nod, "I will Wands," you whisper and watch as she smiles.

She slides it in slowly, pausing to check on you as she stretches you out. The feeling was new and unexpected. Wanda peppers your face with soft kisses and praises you as you become adjusted.

"You're doing so good for baby..."

"Almost all of it, just a little bit more..."

"There you go, that's it, sweetheart..."

As she bottoms out inside of you, her hips meet yours, a moan leaves her lips at the feeling of the strap rubbing her deliciously. You reach your hands up to move the fallen strands of brown hair out of her face and your arms wrap around her sides. Wandas soft hands move to fold your legs around her waist, you feel her move deeper inside of you.

"You okay?" She asks carefully, looking down at you.

"I'm okay, it-it feels good," you rasp out as she begins to move a little faster.

"Just- fuck -just tell me if it's too much okay baby?" Wanda moans and the look on her face, the pleasure between her parted lips and furrowed brows would be enough to draw out another orgasm.

You lean up and kiss her again. It's a messy kiss as the two of you begin breathing heavier, Wanda finding a steady rhythm as she thrusts inside of you.

"Christ, Wands, it feels so good," you moan into her mouth.

Her arm slides underneath your shoulders, bodies pressing impossibly close as she rocks into you.

"I love you so much, so much," she breathes against your skin, her lips attaching to your neck.

Your fingers dig into her skin, one hand scratching up her back as you hold onto the back of her neck. "I love you - oh god! - so much baby," you stutter out as her pace quickens, another orgasm quickly approaching.

The way she held onto you, the kisses she left on your skin, the whispers of how beautiful you were, you had never felt more loved in your whole life. As Wanda kisses you again with a smile on her lips, you feel the love you held for her swell in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach going wild at the sounds of her moaning your name.

You look over at the alarm clock on Wandas' nightstand, seeing 3am. She has her arms wrapped around you, both of your legs tangled together as you turn back to face her.

"We stayed up all night," you giggle with red cheeks, looking at her peaceful demeanor. Your finger runs across her chest, marking a path from the marks you left on her skin.

"Totally, totally worth it," Wanda chuckles and scrunches her nose. You can't help but lean forward to kiss it. "You know what I could really go for right now?"

She smiles at the way your eyes light up excitedly.

"Pancakes?" You ask.

"Pancakes."

So there you were at almost 4 in the morning at the dinner you had shared many pancakes with Wanda over the years, sitting in the same booth, dressed in one of Wandas shirts and a pair of her sweatpants.

You slide her homemade card across the table.

"For you, my love," you smile brightly at her, watching eagerly as she reads the card and brushes her fingertips over the drawing inside.

"I think this might be your best handwriting yet," Wanda jokes with a smirk, acting shocked when you throw a napkin at her. "I love it so much." She holds it to her chest, meaning it.

"I um, I got you something a little different this year," she says quietly, her cheeks becoming a light shade of pink. You look curiously as she reaches for something in her pocket.

She sets a small velvet box on the table, and your eyes go wide at the sight of it. "Wanda..." You whisper, her eyes going wide too.

"It's not exactly what you think! Its.." She puts her head down and laughs to herself, amazed she still had nerves when talking to you after all these years. "Here," she says and hands it to you.

You open the box to find a gold ring. The band was made of little gold metal leaves and thorns, at the top sat a red gem.

"It's a rose that will last forever," she says as you stare at the ring. "There will be more flowers, and there will be another ring, in the future." She makes clear and reaches out to take your hand, sliding the ring onto your finger. "For my little Valentine, a rose for every day."

Tears well in your eyes at the sentiment, at the way she softly held onto your hand and looked at you with a gentle smile. Her green eyes shimmer in the dim lighting of the old diner, the blue lights that lit up the sign outside highlight the angles of her face.

Looking at the smile on Wandas lips and the blush on her cheeks is enough for the swarm of butterflies to take flight inside you, beating their delicate wings against the walls of your stomach.

25 Years Old

"Please go check on her for me? It'll make me feel better if I know she's okay," Wanda says to her twin, fixing the bowtie that lay crooked on his shirt.

"Sestra, you have nothing to worry about. Y/N is in the other room right now, totally fine," Pietro says with a comforting smile. He leans in to kiss Wandas cheek, stopping at the door before he walks out to give her another look. "You really do look beautiful..." He says softly.

Wanda smiles as she looks in the mirror then to him, her skin reddening under the white lace.

"Thank you, Pietro..." She whispers. He nods, leaving the small room to walk down the hall to yours.

"Alright, Y/N, you ready to -" Pietro stops as he shuts the door behind him. He watches as you look over to him with a sad smile, a few tears falling down your face. You quickly wipe them away.

"Hey, sorry is it time?" You ask with a small sniffle. Pietro raises an eyebrow.

"You aren't walking out on my sister, are you? Cause that will be really awkward for both of us."

You can't help but chuckle at his joke, feeling relief when he steps closer and pulls you into a comforting hug. He gives you a moment to cry on the shoulder of his tux, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

As he looks around the empty room, he realizes the reason for your tears.

"They aren't coming, are they?" Pietro sighs and hugs you tighter as you shake your head no.

"Well, no worries... I happen to be great at walking girls down the aisle." He pulls back, signature smirk on his face.

You wipe your eyes as you look at him, "Really?"

"Y/N, we've been best friends forever, I already think of you as my sister..." He chuckles and hands you a tissue.

As you wipe your tears, you look up to the man, seeing the little boy who grew up beside you all those years ago. The one who teased you about everything, playful fights in the halls. The one who was always the shoulder to cry on. The one who always made you laugh when you needed to smile.

"Thank you, Pietro. For everything." You sigh and hug him again, thanking God for the Maximoff twins.

"Now... I told Wanda you were doing totally fine in here, so we're going to keep that lie going."

You finally smile, and when it reaches your eyes, Pietro grins, holding his arm out to you.

Wanda smiles as her father kisses her forehead, dropping her off at the altar. Although, it fades as she looks beside her parents to see a missing spot. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks for her twin, worry getting the best of her as her eyes search for him.

But when she looks down the aisle and sees the woman who held her heart, arm in arm with the man who was her other half, she can't help the tears that stream down her cheeks or the smile that takes over her face.

"When we were 10 years old, you handed me a card and asked me to be your Valentine," Wanda says and takes your hand in hers, squeezing tightly. "I told you since we were best friends we should just be each others Valentines every year."

Guests around the room chuckle from their seats, a blush forms on your face at the memory and the way her green eyes hold so much love for you as she stares into your own. The world around you blurs, and time seems to stop as the words leave Wandas mouth. In that moment, it truly was just the two of you.

"So I'm saying now, that I want to be your Valentine forever."

The two of you exchange rings, and Wanda slides another band next to the rose ring you already wore.

On this Valentines Day, you say "I Do," and listen to the same two words slip her tongue.

And when instructed to kiss the bride, she wraps her arms around your lower back and pulls you to her, kissing you as if she wanted to convey a lifetime of affection in that one moment. With each kiss, Wanda could feel your love pouring into her a warmth spreading through her body like sunlight on her favorite summer day.

Amongst the cheers and applause of both of your loved ones, you felt the same feeling you always did inside of you when you were with Wanda, a kaleidoscope of butterflies in a storm.

32 Years Old

"Ohh sweetheart, just like that fuck!" Wanda half whispers half moans, her fingers tangling in your hair as you continue to let your mouth devour her. Your hands hold onto her thighs, keeping them spread as you lick upwards and suck on her clit.

A soft sigh escapes her lips, her back arching in response to the sensation. A gentle blush spreads across her cheeks as she looks down to see your eyes were already on her, watching her reaction. You hum against her, the vibrations causing her to surrender to the pleasure.

"Baby I'm gonna cum! Don't stop, please - oh god," she says and feels your hand reach up to cover her mouth.

With each breath, she feels a wave of bliss wash over her, a symphony of pleasure leaving her lips. You moan against her, your tongue lapping up everything she'll give you.

Wanda lets out an exasperated laugh as you finish, covering her face with her hands. You smile up at her, lips wet with her arousal as you chuckle at the sight of her.

"I told you I wanted breakfast in bed this morning," you grin, and she laughs even harder, catching her breath. You grab her hand and kiss the finger that wore her wedding ring.

"Happy Anniversary, Wands..." You say with a cheeky smile. The blush stays on her face as she leans up to kiss you, tasting herself.

"Happy Anniversary, my little Valentine," she smiles into the kiss and wraps her arms around your neck.

"About that..." You say with a joking wince, looking at the confused expression on her face.

"So you aren't going to ask me to be your Valentine this year?" Wanda pouts and gives you her best sad eyes. You kiss her nose.

"Unfortunately, you're going to have to share," you say, and at the realization, Wanda nods. Her heart flutters in her chest as she looks at you with a soft smile.

"I suppose we will have to share, won't we?" Wanda giggles, and you can't help but laugh as you hear small knocking on the door to your bedroom.

The two of you quickly help clean each other up in a fit of giggles and kisses, and as you walk to the door, you both hear the voices of tiny whispering from behind the wood.

"What color is yours?"

"Mom likes red so I did that,"

"But I did red too!"

"It's fine yours is different!"

You open the door to reveal the other set of twins that held your heart, a smile on your face as you see the pair holding a piece of paper each.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" You ask and watch as Tommy runs in the room, jumping on the bed into Wandas arms. Billy just smiles up at you, and you chuckle with a small shake of your head as you lift him up.

"We made you Valentimes Day cards!" He beams at you, his eyes sparkling with pride. Your eyes meet Wandas at his adorable pronunciation of the word, a small silent laugh shared between you as you carry him to the bed.

As the four of you sit in the bed, boasting over your boys handmade cards decorated with crayon hearts and crooked letters of messages with love, you feel the purest form of love.

You look from the twins to your wife, feeling her squeeze your hand as her eyes set on yours. A surge of gratitude and love wash over you.

You think back to all of the Valentines leading up to this one, wondering how you could've gotten so lucky. You felt lucky to be surrounded by so much love, to know what it felt like to be loved.

Wanda leans over and kisses your cheek, seeing the overwhelming happiness in your eyes.

"Our two little Valentines," she says with a chuckle, kissing the top of the boys head.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #valentines day #elizabeth olsen #wanda x reader #lizzie olsen

[fernlessbastard]

So, what's the deal with this tnt duo art?

I've explained it in my reblog of this post, but I've decided to copy this over to a brand new post as well, because especially with qsmp happening I'm sure we have many newer people here who don't get what's the deal with this piece

Ok so first off: the artist is _olga.exe_ on Instagram (I think also on twitter but i don't use Twitter so you'll have to check that one yourself)

To the best of my understanding this art just came out around June 2021, which was immediately after the first Revivedbur/Quackity interaction. The first two or so months the ship was exclusively seen as a crack ship - I'm not fully certain why, I think it's just that quackbur before wasn't all that known and popular, so it seemed like it came out of nowhere to the majority of the internet (which, it didn't, holy shit, those sluts have been so gay with each other for so long). It also was a time when most people only began realising that ccQuackity was capable of serious lore, which most likely added to how the ship was seen. Even I myself actually was very hesitant to bring it up to my partner, when I began slowly getting into it - of course while simultaneously deluding myself that it's nothing more than a crack ship for me (@octobre-ackedia oh would you look at how we ended up--).

This art was one of the first pieces that were fully serious, and couldn't be construed in any way shape or form as /p, so it got picked up by people on twitter and memed on. Around September 2021 tntblr began reclaiming it (and if I remember correctly we had a boom of posts sharing the original artist about that time).

In this surge of new people beginning to ship those two that's been happening for the past year or so, I need you all to remember that quackbur started off first as a very underground ship that almost no-one spoke of, and then became a crack ship. The header on my blog doesn't come from a "ha ha funny" self deprecating meme. #twquackburshipping was a tag that someone seriously used to tag a post about how Eret commented on some tntduo/r tiktok.

I get how easy it is to forget how anti-mainstream of a ship quackbur used to be (or simply miss that, if you're newer - which, for the record, no shame, I'm happy to see the new faces!), considering ccQuackity's endorsement of it in the last months of dsmp, not to mention what's happening on qsmp, but all those "omg I'm a quackbur shipper ha ha don't hate me ha I'm cringe I know" jokes used to genuinely not be jokes something like 1,5 years ago.

I hope this explains it thoroughly, and to everyone a little bit newer to the ship: welcome! Glad to see you here, remember to have fun, and if you've got any questions, feel free to ask me :]]

#tnt duo #tntblr #tntduo #quackbur #c!quackbur #wilbur soot #quackityhq #wilbur #quackity #dsmp #dream smp #support art #revivedbur #qsmp

[orobaxis]

I loved your Ominis fic so much! It felt like I was there with him 🤭 for prompts I couldn’t decide between “You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply." and "I can't fathom the idea of my life without you in it." It could be angsty or not I don’t mind 😊

“deeply”

ominis gaunt x f!reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis starts to avoid you.

word count: 2849

warning: some pureblood purity nonsense, f!reader may be muggleborn or a half-blood

beware of spoilers in the comments/tags/reblogs!

“what's wrong with you and ominis?”

you frown, eyes not leaving your plate as you give anne a shrug. you don’t know, really, what’s going on between you and ominis. he just suddenly became so distant to you.

at first, you thought it was just you. you thought you were going a bit paranoid, or that you were overthinking it. because ominis always sits with you, that was his place, that was where people expected to find him in the great hall. wherever y/n was, ominis wasn’t far behind.

it started when he raced anne to sit beside sebastian for lunch. you don’t think they noticed, and anne was just all too happy to sit beside you and chat, but you did. he was supposed to sit beside you, so why didn’t he? you chalked it up to him wanting to talk (argue) with seb, and thought nothing of it.

next was when you arrived to the library shortly after your potions class. you always go to the library after potions to try to work on your homework, you had a dedicated nook and ominis would join you and you would both nag the twins to start their homework (and not copy yours). but one day, he just…wasn’t there. you were beginning to get worried, then, wondering if he wasn’t feeling well, or if you did something to upset him. so that night, you try to catch him in the common room.

he didn’t show up. you four would usually sit by the large windows overlooking the lake, waiting for the giant squid to greet you while pranking other students. but when sebastian told you that “he said he wanted to rest”, your heart formed a little crack in it. and every day he started to avoid you, the crack just grew a little bit bigger.

“i think…he’s avoiding me,” you tell anne. despite being close to ominis, you and anne share a sisterly bond that was forged early in your lives and stronger than the very foundations of magic. there are things you simply cannot talk to seb or ominis about (for one, your…budding feelings towards the latter), and it’s always anne who you turn to in times like these. “he hasn’t talked to me for days now.”

anne scrunches her face in displeasure. “that isn’t like ominis at all, he’s not ignoring me, and certainly not my brother,” she turns to you warily, “do you think it was something you did? something you said?”

“i’m trying to remember, but i’m certain i haven’t said or done anything that could have upset ominis,” the tone of your voice is sadder now, disparaging, “that i know of.”

anne, ever the optimist, reaches for your hand and squeezes it, “well, whatever it is, i’m sure ominis will come around. he can’t stay away forever, you know?”

feeling somewhat comforted, you give her a terse smile. do you know that?

-

it might be best to stay away. ignoring the thumping of his heart and the fluttering in his stomach, ominis flicks his wand, and the howler is engulfed in flames before it can disintegrate. he is thankful for the privacy of the undercroft at this moment, although he knows that any one of his friends can pop in, the message in the howler was not something he wanted them to hear.

son,

we have heard rumours about you associating with some…unsavoury folk—

is that really what they think of her? of y/n? because she wasn’t born from a prominent pureblood family, because she associates herself with muggleborn professor garlick, because she loves all things that grow and not fascinated in the dark arts?

does his family really think less of her because of her birth?

ominis made a hard and rash decision, and it has been going well. however, he’s certain that you are starting to get suspicious by now. you are a smart witch, you know that he’s been avoiding you. but ominis thinks there is no other option. in order to keep you away from his family’s sharp and piercing gaze, it is better to distant himself from you. it is for your own safety. he cannot have them sink their infected claws into the only comfort he has away from home. no matter how hard it is, ominis has to keep away.

which is becoming hard, seeing your history together. having barely separated, you have all the same classes together. herbology, for one, is your favourite class, and you had paired with him to care for a pot of chinese chomping cabbage. this is going to be a lot harder than he thought, seeing as you had rooted yourself deep into his routine, his life, and his heart.

-

feeling emboldened by your conversation with anne, you are hopeful that ominis will finally break his silence in herbology. you are partners, and you have to discuss how to properly care for this rather…biting…flora.

your anxious smile drops a bit when ominis says nothing when you greet him, only standing away from the potting station, seemingly indifferent.

“so…i thought we should start trimming our cabbage and feed it some carrots,” you suggest slowly, trying to gauge any reaction. “and maybe water it before we leave. what do you say, ominis?”

the smile is replaced by a frown when you see him looking away from you, something he hasn’t done since you two started being friends. he is attentive like that, whenever you talk to him, he would turn to your general direction, making sure you know that he was listening to you. now, you aren’t so sure that he’s not let your words pass through one ear and out the other.

ominis only shrugs, “do whatever you think is right,” and turns away from your completely.

disheartened, you turn to the potting station, trying to ignore the tightening of your throat and the sharp sting of tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. you silently tend to your plant for the rest of the class.

-

“why are you ignoring y/n?”

sebastian finds him sulking close to the defense against the dark arts classroom. this is also one of your favourite hauntings, enjoying the tea the biscuits when you have a free period.

ominis sighs, knowing that he cannot really avoid the question forever. he also knows how persistent sebastian can be, and it would be no use to hide it from him. despite this, he tries to play dumb at first, “what makes you say that?”

“well, for one, you haven’t been sitting next to her or talking to her for a couple of days now. and in herbology, you’d think someone made her watch a niffler getting tortured with how sad she looked.” sebastian’s tone is accusatory.

the gaunt boy frowns as he imagines how much his actions hurt you, only giving you one sentence answers whenever you ask questions in class and avoiding you as much as he can. he hates that he’s the reason you were so down in herbology earlier.

“and anne has been pestering me to ask you,” sebastian adds, “which means you better tell me now before she comes here and beats it out of you.”

ominis scoffs, “like she’d eve—”

“ominis, the only reason she hasn’t hexed you is because she’s busy comforting y/n right now. as soon as she’s done, you best believe we’ll both be on the receiving end of a mean stinging hex.”

well, ominis couldn’t argue with that.

“it’s my parents,” he tells sebastian, “they owled me, wrote to me that i shouldn’t be associating with ‘unsavoury folk’ and those who are ‘lesser’. that i am slytherin’s heir and should not be seen with someone who has muggle parentage and friends with muggleborns.”

sebastian blanches at that. “how dare they!”

“you might think that’s that, but it’s also a threat. they are telling me to stop now, or else they will find her.”

“and this…this is why you’re staying away?”

ominis nods, “i don’t want my family to even think of her. to look at her or touch her. i cannot have them taint her.”

he waits as sebastian goes silent, trying to process what he just said. he is not hoping for a solution, nor comfort.

“but…you’re hurting her. and yourself.”

ominis says nothing. he doesn’t need to. what more can he say?

-

you want to believe that you’re getting used to the silence. but you really can’t. it’s so different without ominis’ presence, without his (overly) doting nature, or his commentary whenever seb does anything stupid. while you still wonder what it is you did to make him ice you out, you also start to muster the courage to talk to him alone and ask him about it.

relaying this to anne, you two try to find the right “opportunity” to catch ominis off guard so that you can confront him. he seemingly catches on to it though, now sticking beside sebastian at any cost. sebastian is also a bit subdued, and that is something you should ask about in a while as well.

it’s so strange to find ominis across the table from you in the great hall, face turned away from you like he is deliberately letting you know he doesn’t want to acknowledge your presence. anne has been helpful, sitting beside you and initiating conversation, but it’s not the same.

it’s not the same without him.

so when the owls started arriving and delivering packages, you consider it a welcome surprise to receive one.

“oh, a package!” anne exclaims excitedly, “who is it from?”

you turn over the package, the smile on your face replaced by a frown, “i don’t know. it’s unmarked.”

at that, ominis can feel the hair on the back of his neck standing, and he sits up straighter. “don’t open it.”

you look up to ominis, surprised that he not only was listening to you (and ignoring you on purpose), but that he talked to you. even if it was just to tell you not to open a package.

sebastian purses his lips and nods, “he’s right, y/n. it could be some prank from someone.”

or something related to the dark arts that is meant to curse you, he and ominis think.

ominis has a gnawing feeling of anxiety, wondering if it was his family who sent you this mysterious package. do they really think he wouldn’t know about it? why would they send something potentially dangerous in such a conspicuous way?

“alright,” you acquiesce, now thinking that it couldn’t hurt to be on the safe side. it would be terrible if the package turned out to be a prank, wondering if it would explode when you open it or splash you with something pungent. “i’ll open it outside.”

“i will open it,” ominis states, and it sounds final. you stare at him, contemplating on whether this would be the right time to ask him, if he has decided he’s had enough of ignoring you and you can go back to the way it was. the finality in his words seem to suggest that he does not tryst whatever is in that package. his arms extend across the table to you, “i’ll keep it in the undercroft for now.”

blinking in surprise, you raise your eyebrow, “you want to hide it there?”

he nods tersely, “just to make sure it doesn’t explode on you. after classes we will go to the beach and open it.”

resigned, you hand the package over to him, taking the moment to bask in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your own. as quickly as it happened, ominis’ hands are gone, and he stands up, wand blinking red in front of him. he doesn’t say anything as he leaves for the undercroft.

sebastian says nothing when he hears your sigh of defeat.

-

the four of you find yourselves at the beach after class, eyeing the suspicious package tucked under ominis’ arm.

“i didn’t find any traces of dark arts in the package,” he says, “but we can never be too careful. i will place it on the ground and i need you all to back away as far as you can.”

“will you be safe?” you blurt out, your worry for him trumping the other confusing feelings you have bubbling up your chest, “if this is some kind of…dark arts artifact…i think it would be best if we get a teacher involved.”

ominis thought about that, of course. “if it’s dark arts, then i might be able to find a way to control it. and then you can go and fetch professor hecat.”

still wary, you voice your assent, grabbing anne’s hand for support.

you watch ominis take a deep breath, sebastian standing not too far from him, ready to catch him if anything happens as well as to guard you and anne.

ominis waves his hand in a flourish, and you all held your breaths as the packaging tears open to find…

a book.

thick, and well-used, it looks like…an ordinary textbook.

you shuffle towards ominis curiously, ignoring sebastian’s calls, and peeked to see what it is.

“oh, it’s a book,” you comment. you get close enough to read the title, even as ominis extends his arm to stop you from getting any closer. “it’s the herbology book i’ve been looking for!”

“what book?” ominis asks, still distrustful.

“i asked deek the house elf to help me find a book on herbology that professor garlick mentioned. he said he knew where that missing book may have been hidden. he must have sent it to me when he found it.”

you cautiously move away from ominis hold, reaching for the book. “see? it’s harmless. deek probably just didn’t put his name on it.”

“so, it’s not evil?” sebastian asks.

you raise the book and wave it, smiling, “nope!”

“merlin’s beard! that gave me quite the fright,” anne exclaims, hands on her chest, “this was all just a big misunderstanding!”

you smile, before subtly turning your gaze to ominis. he is quiet, once again icing you out. he nods stiffly before raising his wand, proceeding to walk away.

“ominis, wait!” you call out.

you see him hesitate, stopping his tracks for a moment. he clears his throat, “i’m glad you’re safe.”

-

he finds out by the large windows in the common room, one of your favourite spots.

you were learning your forehead against the window, listening to the sound of water behind the thick glass.

“the giant squid isn’t here,” ominis remarks, “i couldn’t hear it.”

he cannot see the sad smile on your face. “thank you for letting me know, i think it’s better knowing that instead of waiting for nothing.”

oh.

he doesn’t like the sound of your voice when it’s sad.

before he can process it, he is standing in front of you, hands clenched at his sides. “i’m sorry y/n. i know i hurt you…but…”

your voice is small and muffled against the window, “i don’t know what i did for you to push me away like this.”

“my family has threatened to hurt you if i don’t stay away,” he blurts out, and you sit up in surprise.

“what?” you are shocked, to say the least.

“that’s why i was so worried about the package. i was afraid that they had sent you a cursed object because you…because you associate yourself with me.

but y/n, you need to know that i have grown to care for you. deeply,” ominis doesn’t want to admit how much he’s shaking, how it is obvious from the way he sounds that his shaky voice is about to crack and his throat tight as he struggles to keep his emotions at bay, “you are the last thing i want my family to touch. i couldn’t let them hurt you. not you.”

you exhale, tears now flowing down your cheeks. you stand in front of him and grasp his hands, which are cold, clammy, and shaking.

“oh ominis,” you squeeze his hands, slowly making your way closer until your forehead rests against his. feelings that you thought are yours to keep, buried deep and untouched in your heart, are starting to rise. “i cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it. i don’t care what your family thinks. i will be fine as long as i’m with you. with seb and anne. with our family.”

ominis starts to break, exhaling as he feels your skin touch his, your smell invading his senses and your warmth soothing his tormented soul. “i cannot lose you, y/n. not to them.”

smiling through your tears, you raise your arms to pull him into a hug. “you won’t lose me, ominis. i promise you.”

there may be a lot of work to be done, more talks to be had, with regards to your feelings and his, on how to navigate these feelings and desires while also making sure that his family never touches you, but for now, ominis basks in your presence and in the love you have for him. and for now, that is enough.

-

aaaahhh sped write this minutes before a class presentation. i hope it’s fine. thank you for your patience with my writing styles/formatting as i try to find the best style/layout to write. thank you for the overwhelming love!!!

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow #anne sallow

[bradshawsbitch]

hard hitter | bradley bradshaw x f!reader

warnings: SMUT. 18+ minors DNI!! afab!reader, oral (f and m receiving), piv sex, switch/sub Rooster, nipple play, power play, public stuff, mirror stuff, a hint of mommy kink, praise kink, use of the term ‘good boy’

disclaimer: uh, well, I listened to WAP and suddenly I craved subby Rooster. please read at your own discretion, it’s a lot. please heed the warnings as written above.

description: you knew men like Bradley liked being in control, but what if you like it too?

tagging @theharddeck @roosterforme & @mak-32 cause i think they might enjoy this one!

Men were easy. If you weren’t looking for someone to take care of you, if you were just looking for the pleasure a man can provide - men were very easy. A little hint of fluttery eyelashes, a small lick of the lips, a sway to the hips - they were done for. It was a power trip. The key was to make them think they were the ones in power. Make them feel big and manly and strong for you, when in reality the leash was in your hands, and you kept it tight.

The current man you were playing your little game with was going to be a challenge, you could tell - and the mere thought of having this man on his knees for you made a delicious thrill run through your spine. You’d matched with him on one of those apps that people sometimes tried to fool themselves into thinking were for finding friends or partners. You knew better than that. Flicking through this man’s picture had you licking your lips, thighs clenching together slightly at the thought of what fun you could have with him. One picture depicted him with a football, shirtless, with abs, pecs and biceps glistening in the sun. How slutty.

His name was Bradley. A slutty name if you ever heard one. He exuded dominant vibes, something that made you smirk. You’d cracked some men who though the held all the power before, but this man felt like a real challenge. He was a naval aviator, which meant the man literally had a thrill chase almost every time he went to work. You’d have to put in a little more work this time - and honestly you were pleased. It had almost gotten too easy lulling these boys into a sense of false security.

You had to give it to him, he tried very hard to be a gentleman in the beginning of your texting. Seemed to be the type to want to wine you and dine you before he bedded you. You weren’t one to complain, and you’d agreed to a date as soon as he was home from his current deployment.

However, you knew you needed to start working him early for your game to work. So that’s why you’d found the most intricate looking lingerie you could find, black lace, garters attached to your thighs - a choker delicately placed snug around your throat and Mary Jane heels on your feet as you posed for lewd pictures.

You’d describe the pictures as high art, though some might describe them as pornographic. Some pictures were downright artsy, with nice lighting, of you in bed, arching your back whilst grasping your breast, chin tilted up to create an alluring figure. One was a closeup of your pushed up tits, tongue outstretched to taste your manicured finger, that one might teeter on the pornographic side of the scale. Sending them to him - you’d simply captured them “Thinking of you x”. It had worked like a charm. Bradley’s response was exactly what you'd hoped for.

“Fuck, baby, you have no idea how many times I’ve jerked it to these. Came so fucking hard for you, babe x” that text had a smirk forming on your lips. Knowing you made him cum before you even met him was a powerful feeling.

The thrill of knowing you could have a man go crazy with lust with a couple of pictures of your clothed body, skimpily dressed, sure - but not necessarily to the point where you had given it all away at once. He had never met you, but you’d made him fist his cock, made him groan and moan at the thought of fucking you.

Bradley had followed up with texts of the things he wanted to do to you, how good he’d make you feel - and you had to give it to him, he had you worked up with his creativity. And you’d be lying if the tasteful pic he’d sent you hadn’t had you whimpering a little, he knew what women wanted. It was a picture of his bare upper body in a mirror, grey Calvin Kleins slung low on his hips, hand gripping his hard cock through the fabric. The hint of happy trail and the dusting of chest hair had your mouth watering. God, he was packing.

Suddenly you couldn’t wait for Bradley to come home. It almost concerned you a little how much you were longing to ride him until he saw stars, you’d never spent this much time thinking about one singular man before. Shaking your head, you hoped that you’d forget about him after you’d gotten it out of your system.

As the night came, you were dancing happily along to a playlist that made you feel like the hottest and most powerful woman in the world. Fixing your tits in your tight, black, satin dress - you smirked. The dress supported your bare tits beautifully, pushing them up just enough to make them look a little mouth watering. A thin chain of rhinestones were wrapped tight around your throat, and the Mary Janes you had worn in the pictures you’d sent to Bradley adorned your feet. The dress had just enough of a slit to show a tantalising amount of your thigh. It was perfect for the night you had planned. It was finally time to put your game into play.

Wrapping neatly manicured nails around the stem of the glass of wine you had poured yourself, you downed the rest of the drink as your doorbell rang. A breath hitched in your throat, eyes glittering with excitement. Showtime.

Opening the door, Bradley’s form almost had you stuttering on a breath again. Fuck, he was more gorgeous in real life. He’d made an effort, wearing a black suit, opting for his white shirt to be slightly unbuttoned instead of wearing a tie.

“Bradley,” his name fell off your lips like a purr, the corners of your lips turning up in an innocent smile. You took a step forward, slinging an arm around his neck, embracing him in a half hug, making sure to press your chest against his as you smiled up at him - making sure your wrist lingered near his face so he could inhale the heady scent of the vanilla perfume that lingered there.

A smirk played on his lips as he looked down on you “Baby,” he spoke and you hadn’t anticipated that his voice would be raspy, deep, and way too seductive for your own good. Fuck. “You look…” he trailed off, obviously fighting the urge to say something along the lines of ‘fuckable’.

“I hope the end of that sentence is good?” You teased, stepping away from him. He chuckled as he helped you into his car.

“Yeah, you rendered me speechless, baby doll,” fuck, he was good. The pet names were going straight to your core, making it hard to keep your game in play. He was sinful.

Dinner was eventful to say the least. Bradley kept running his hand over his throat and into the opening of his shirt to scratch at his chest. You wondered if that was intentional. His eyes were glittering with mischief, a hint of lust hidden behind them as you pulled out your A game - gasping and praising his dangerous job, nothing had men reeling more than being made to feel important and dangerous. Your heeled feet had “accidentally” stroked his calves a couple of times, and you had fluttered your lashes, trying to look bashful as you bit your lip and apologised. Bradley had arched a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked amused. You silently wondered if he was onto your little game. If he was, he seemed eager to play.

After finishing your wine, whilst waiting for dessert to arrive, you figured you’d try another little play of yours.

“Bradley, did you see where the bathrooms were?” you looked around, brows slightly furrowed as you bit your lower lip softly. “Yes, doll, right around that corner,” Bradley murmured. You smiled sweetly, rising slowly to your feet, giving him a good look at the swell of your tits.

“Thank you, Bradley,” you purred “I’m just going to touch up my makeup,” you continued, letting your eyes flicker to his crotch, before meeting his eyes - giving him your best sultry doe eyes, before turning and walking away. You took a beat before glancing over your shoulder - seeing Bradley’s hungry eyes on you, you shot him a quick wink before disappearing in to the fancy bathroom.

Closing the door you drew a shaky breath, looking into the large, ornate floor-length mirror. Your smirk widened, looking at the excited look on your face. If this worked out how you wanted it to, this would be golden. As you looked into the mirror, you saw the erratic rise and fall of your chest as you waited with somewhat baited breath. You wanted Bradley to cave so bad. Finally, the unlocked door slowly swung open, and you bit your lip hard as you made eye-contact with Bradley’s hungry, amber eyes.

“Thought you’d never come,” you smirked, turning around, placing your hand over his on the handle of the door - helping him close and lock it. He hadn’t uttered a word before you sunk to your knees in front of his tall form, licking your lips as you kept gazing into his stormy eyes. Slowly raising a brow, your eyes flickered down to his semi-hard cock straining against his dress pants. You were sat on your bare knees, the slit of the dress giving him a good look at your soft thighs - your heels tucked under your butt, giving him a nice visual in the mirror.

“You want my cock that bad, doll? Couldn’t wait until after dinner?” Bradley reached out his hand, his fingers ghosting over your jaw and chin, tucking your hair behind your ear. If you hadn’t been kneeling in front of his hardening cock, the action would have been sweet.

“You came here, didn’t you?” You hummed as you slowly reached for Bradley’s fly, slowly pulling his pants off.

“I can be a patient, good girl for you if you’d rather we wait, Sir,” your tone was definitely mocking, and you put on a pouty face - a teasing glint in your eyes as you saw Bradley twitch in his boxers and his breath stuttering.

“No this is good,” he murmured, stroking the back of your hair.

“I thought so,” you whispered, grinning up at him as you palmed him through his boxers. He hissed at the sudden sensation of pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Look at me, Bradley,” you purred as you adjusted your position, gently moving him to where you wanted him. Your fingers latched onto the hem of his boxers, pulling them down until his hard, veiny cock sprung free. The small whine that left your throat wasn’t planned, but fuck he was big. Bradley groaned at the sound, opening his eyes and obeying your demand by looking down at you.

“In the mirror, Bradley. Look at your cock fucking my mouth,” you whispered, a sinful look on your face as you licked his tip. A long, drawn out moan tore from deep within his chest as he felt you wrap your hot, wet mouth around his length. He heeded your suggestion, glancing in the mirror. Bradley could barely keep from cumming then and there - seeing your ass, legs, heels and thighs, knees wide apart and open for him, your sinful mouth swallowing his cock again and again like such a good girl.

“Fuck,” he moaned out as you finally managed to take him all the way to the back of your throat. Your tongue swirled and licked at him, whilst hollowing your cheeks to suck at him hard. His noises had you whimpering and squeezing your thighs together slightly. Bradley was stroking your hair, sometimes tangling his long fingers in it and tugging slightly to get you to take him even further. Taking him deep in your throat again, you moaned at the sensation of his heavy cock throbbing in your mouth. His pre-cum mixing with your saliva made for a perfect blend for Bradley’s cock to slip in and out of your mouth, further and further down your throat.

Bradley had been so fixated on the visual the mirror provided, your body looking so good kneeling for him, your eager mouth taking his cock so well. As he looked down he choked on a breath, seeing his cock bulging deep in your throat. With an animalistic moan his hips stuttered, a strangled warning managed to slip from his lips before he shot his hot seed deep down your throat. His ears almost started ringing as he noticed the soft moan that left your throat, muffled by his cock in your mouth. Fuck, that was hot.

Bradley looked down at your fucked mouth, thrusting slowly once, twice, watching you swallow around his cock, tears leaking from your eyes as cum dribbled down your chin. He groaned deep within his chest as his thumb stroked your cheek.

“Fuck, you look absolutely delectable right now, angel,” he murmured, trying to catch his breath. He helped you stand up and you shot him a small smile.

“I think our desserts might have come now, let me just touch up my makeup and I’ll be right out,” you winked playfully, turning to the mirror to correct the smudged mascara and your cum covered chin.

“Sinful…” Bradley could hardly believe how much you turned him on. Such a good play by you, the delivery… everything. Fuck, it turned him on to know you’d planned that, to know that you knew he’d take the bait - hook, line and sinker. He felt a little dazed as he did up his pants and slinked out of the bathroom to leave you to clean up. A blush worked up his throat as he saw that a middle aged woman was stood waiting for her turn at a bathroom just a bit down the hall. He hoped she hadn’t heard him getting the life sucked out of him a few minutes ago.

Finishing up dessert, Bradley offered to pay for you both, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer even when you wanted to pay half. You smiled gratefully at him as he led you out of the restaurant, his hand resting on the small of your back.

“I can’t fucking wait to get you home, sweetheart” Bradley murmured as the two of you made your way towards his car. You put on an innocent look, lips slightly parted “So the evening’s not over yet?”

“Not if you don’t want it to be,” he murmured, pulling you close to his chest, his hand still resting dangerously low on your back. Bradley was now stood by the passenger side door, and you couldn’t resist the temptation of placing your heels on top of the step, trapping Bradley to the car as your inner thigh graced his leg - dress falling away from your thigh.

“No, Bradley, I don’t think I want the evening to end quite yet,” you whispered, leaning in closer to him. His hand found your thigh, grasping it hard, hoisting just a little higher up on his hip so that he could feel your warm core against him. A small moan slipped from your lips as you tried to get even closer to his large frame.

“You need to get in the car before I fuck you right here where all these respectable people can see us,” Bradley growled, opening the door and hoisting you up in your seat. What he didn’t know is that you’d probably love that, and his sentence sent a thrill of pleasure down your spine.

Bradley had hardly put the car in park before he was jumping out, unbuckling your seatbelt and carrying you into his home in a flurry of wet, open mouthed kisses. He hurriedly shrugged out of his suit jacket, before locking lips with you again, holding you close to his chest.

“I’ve been thinking about this body for weeks, nothing but my hand to satiate me,” Bradley mumbled as his palms brushed over the swell of your tits. You tilted your head back, leaning into his touch as you arched your back. That sentence almost had you purring with pleasure. Your pictures had made him think about you for weeks as he pleasured himself, longing for the real deal.

“Well now that you have me, lieutenant, how do you plan to use your time?” Rooster would never admit it, but the way you confidently challenged him turned him on beyond belief. He’d never encountered anyone who he had to fight for dominance with. All of his previous partners had just happened to submit to his every whim so easily. Now, when you were demanding answers, demanding actions - he felt like a fucking teen, stuttering and fumbling with his words.

“I’ll help you, sweet boy,” you cooed softly, reaching up to softly stroke Bradley’s cheek, his eyes wide with shock. “You’re gonna be a good boy for me and make me cum on your tongue, okay? That sound good, baby?” your voice was sweet, slightly condescending, as if talking to someone who was struck dumb. And he was.

“Fuck… yeah, I’ll do that, doll” Bradley muttered, looking down at you, awestruck at the look that swirled in your eyes. He felt as if you were looking straight through him.

“What’re you waiting for, lieutenant? On your knees,” you spoke, tugging at his collar. Bradley blinked, still not quite comprehending how this had happened.

“Sweet boy, don’t make me punish you,” you tutted, pushing gently on his shoulders as he sank to his knees before you. A slightly choked ‘fuck’ slipped past his lips as your heel clad foot rested on his clavicle and shoulder. He took the hint, his hand wrapping around your calf as he kissed your ankle, going higher, kissing and nipping at your calf before he moved closer, moving your leg so that your thigh rested against his shoulder.

He noticed that your hand had found its way to his hair, and you gave it a small tug of appreciation as he kissed and licked your inner thigh.

“Good boy,” you sighed, and to Bradley’s surprise, he moaned at your words, his cock twitching in his pants. He wanted to hear your praises again. He swiftly pushed your underwear to the side, licking a long stripe between your folds. He very nearly moaned at the sweet taste, and his hands found your hips and ass - needing to have you closer. Spreading your folds with his tongue, he slowly licked up and down, before swirling his tongue around your clit - earning him a gasp and a tug of his hair from you. He let his lips wrap around your sensitive nub, suckling at it gently - reeling from your soft moans.

Licking a broad stripe again, he noticed how you seemed to tug harder on his strands when his tongue played with your entrance, and he glanced up at you before he let his tongue slowly slip in to your wet, aching core. The long, drawn out moan and the harsh tug to his hair had him moaning against your wet cunt. He lapped at your entrance for a bit, before he noticed that you seemed to like it most when his tongue slipped in and out of you, his tongue fucking into your wet heat as his nose occasionally dragged against your clit.

“Fuck, yes, Bradley!” You keened “you’re doing so good, eating my pussy so fucking good, baby” Roosters cock was hard and leaking now, and a moan fell from his lips into your pussy as he switched to sucking at your clit, before returning to your weeping hole - letting his broad tongue lick and slip into you, shaking his head slightly to reach further into your core. You were practically fucking his face now, hips stuttering against him as your hand held a tight grip on his hair.

“Fuck, Bradley - don’t- don’t stop— I’m so fucking close” you whimpered, before one last swipe of Bradley’s tongue had you falling apart against his mouth. Looking down at him, his chin glistening with your arousal, you offered him a genuine smile as you cooed “you did so good for me, baby,” stroking his cheek, at those words, he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he stuttered on an exhale, almost making it sound like a whimper. A rush of satisfaction ran through your spine.

“Will you help me undress, lieutenant Bradshaw?” Lifting your leg off of his shoulder you turned around and waited. You heard him scrambling to stand up, his large hands hastily pulling your zipper down. The dress fell soundlessly to your feet, exposing your bare breasts and your lacy panties.

“Where’s your bedroom, lieutenant?” You asked, turning around. Bradley, who seemed to have come down from the high of having been ordered around, quickly lifted you up, a smirk on his face as he carried you towards his bedroom “Right here, baby doll,” he said as he put you down. He figured you’d let up now, let him fuck you dumb on his cock after your little power play.

You let him have a little moment, where his hands palmed at your breasts, his fingers pinching and rolling your hard nipples, making you moan and whimper at his skilled touch.

“That’s right, sweet thing, I’ll take care of you,” Bradley murmured into your ear as his mouth licked and sucked at your sensitive skin.

You almost rolled your eyes. You give a guy an inch. Instead you smiled, tugging at the short hair at the nape of his neck. A groan rumbled deep in his chest, as you steered him to the bed, undressing him as you went.

Bradley laid you down on the bed, climbing on top of you, his lips connecting with yours in a sloppy kiss, tongue stroking against yours eagerly. Hooking a leg over his hip, you used his temporary weakness against him as you flipped him over - so that you sat straddled across his lap instead of him rutting into your clothed pussy.

“C’mere, baby,” you murmured, urging Bradley to sit up. You covered his hands, currently placed on your hips, with yours and guided them to your breasts. He moaned along with you as he squeezed and played with them, his fingers yet again teasing your nipples.

“Be a good boy and use that talented mouth of yours?” You breathed out, head falling back at the pleasure of Bradley’s hands stimulating your sensitive breasts. He didn’t waste any time in licking your nipples, his tongue gently swirling around the hardened tips. He carried on like that for a while, switching every so often. It was good, but not what you wanted.

Placing a hand on the back of Bradley’s head, you pushed him closer to your chest as you ground your soaking wet pussy against his hard cock.

“C’mon sweet boy, suck on my tits for me, baby - I know you want to,” you murmured, underlining your words by gently stroking the back of his head. A whimper fell from his lips before he latched onto your nipple, lips closing around the supple flesh as he sucked and licked at you. You moaned loudly and ground down harder against him.

“Fuck, just like that baby, good boy - fuck, you’re being so good to me,” you were overwhelmed by pleasure as Bradley whined and whimpered whilst he sucked at your nipple, gently using his teeth to heighten the sensation.

“Fuck me, Bradley,” you moaned, reaching down to stroke his leaking cock, pushing your underwear to the side to guide him into your entrance. The loud moan that spilled from his lips was heavenly, and you couldn’t help clenching around his deliciously thick cock as he bottomed out. Bradley fell back against the pillows, pistoning his hips into your wet, welcoming heat. His hand gripped at your hips, helping you slam down on him in time with his hard and deep thrusts. You could tell you’d riled him up good, he was chasing his release like a man starved of touch.

“You feel so fucking good squeezing my cock like this, doll,” he moaned, swatting at your ass. This man was so used to being in charge. You smirked, rolling your hips agonisingly slow, drinking in all his pretty boy moans.

“Fuck, whose is it, doll?” Bradley groaned out as he looked at how his cock slid in and out of your weeping cunt. Your eyes were rolled back up until that point, head tilted back at the pleasure rolling through you with Bradley’s deep thrusts into you. Your thighs clamped down on his hips, restricting his movements as your eyes snapped to meet his, a mischievous smirk adorning your lips as you placed your hands on his lower abdomen.

Swirling your hips, you rolled and dragged them in agonisingly deep and teasing ways - and what Bradley wasn’t aware of, was that you were spelling out your name on his cock.

Leaning down, you placed your smaller hand on his thick neck - applying just the tiniest amount of pressure as you growled out

“Mine,” as you suddenly sunk down hard on his leaking cock.

“C’mon baby, make me cum all over your thick cock,” you demanded, keeping him in place as you used his cock for your own pleasure.

“You’re not allowed to cum before me,” you continued, bouncing up and down on Bradley’s cock as you chased your high, small moans slipping from your lips. Bradley sat up again, pathetically grinding his hips into yours.

“I’m so fucking close, I can’t—” he whimpered, and you gave him a searing look.

“Don’t you dare, lieutenant,” you threatened, fucking yourself harder on his cock. He could feel your cunt fluttering and clenching around him harder and harder as you were approaching your high. He was babbling now, begging to cum in your sweet pussy, begging to let him please spurt so hard in you. Whining, begging, tears sliding down his face as he watched you fall apart on him.

“Fuck, please, please I’ve been good - please let me cum in you, mommy,” he whimpered, not even sure what he was babbling because he was so fucked out, so worn and needy for your approval.

You moaned loud at his words,

“Fuck, Bradley, yes baby - cum baby, cum for mommy,” you urged, and the words had barely left your lips before you felt hot ropes of cum hitting your cervix over and over again.

Bradley’s forehead fell against your heaving chest, his upper body glistening with sweat.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” You murmured, stroking his hair. “You did real good, I could tell you weren’t used to taking that role,” you smiled, tilting his head up to look into his eyes. He wore a dopey, sheepish expression.

“I’ve never cum so hard in my entire life,” he confessed, before telling you he’d never let someone take charge like that in the bedroom. As you cleaned him and yourself up, snuggling up to him, you asked how he liked it.

“It felt nice to be taken care of,” he blushed, hiding his face in your neck as he kissed you there.

“I’ll let you fuck me dumb next time,” you promised, giving him a sweet kiss before you fell asleep.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #smut #my writing #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfic

[omgsuperstarg]

Market Day- Toto Wolff x Black! Caribbean Reader

Author's Note: This one shot is based on another function of Caribbean Life. Going to the Market or Farmer's Market to get fresh food for the household is a normal occurrence and Toto decides to tag along with you and assist.

Saturday mornings are usually a staple of your household. That's the day when you head down to the local farmer's market and pick up the much-needed fruits, produce (ground provisions), & seasoning herbs for the meats and fish. Today, you wake at the crack of dawn to get ready. Toto was fast asleep during the summer shutdown taking the much-needed rest from flying for weeks at a time. This is usually a solo trip, so going out and returning in record times is an art form for you.

All that you needed was in your car, you proceed to leave a note so that he knew your whereabouts and with that, you're off for another fruitful Saturday morning.

Mini time skip..........

You're already halfway through your list when your phone begins ringing.

Hello

"Good Morning darling, I see you've left me all alone", your love speaks playfully.

"Morning to you as well Toto. I decided to let you sleep in because GOD KNOWS you need it and market trips have always been a solo task for me. Plus, I'm getting all the ingredients for SOUP SATURDAY!!", you state matter of factly.

"So where are you?", you inquire.

Turn around.

What!?!?", your voice

In doing what's instructed, you observe your boyfriend in some dry-fit shorts, a t-shirt with silver arrow logos, and some aviator shades with sneakers completing his relaxed outfit. Knowing Toto he always wore the love for his team on his sleeve in both figurative and literal senses. He jogs up to you with a bright smile on his face, one that you've come to love in your three years together.

"Im surprised to see you here, I thought you would be sleeping in since Saturdays' are usually my day", you profess as you hand him one of your market bags.

"Well, I couldn't let my darling do her shopping unaccompanied. Not only that it's a perfect way to catch up and spoil yourself with the florals you admire soo much", the statuesque man states with his accented speech seeping into your bones.

"Well, there's still a few more things that need to be purchased and since I already have meat seasoned for cooking, I say when we arrive home I can make us some soup. Judging the clouds it's going to be a heavy rain shower." you speak observing the bleak sky.

"Ahhh yes, soup is always comforting on a rainy day," he says smiling.

A fruitful trip was completed, you both were now home and cutting up vegetables for a hearty lunch. Dancehall and Soca music is blasting throughout the kitchen which is typical of a Saturday Morning. Toto observes you dancing along to the music and even finds himself nodding along to its infectious beat.

"So its always this noisy when you're back home?", he inquires as he sits near the granite countertop.

"Yes, this is a pretty normal vibe for a Caribbean household. Sometimes I would do my Saturday chores on a Friday so I wouldn't have to and the second Saturday or whenever the funds arrive would be market day. After coming home, I would assist my grandma in making soup, my favorite is Chicken foot and I would add ramen noodles to it as well. Early afternoon we would either bake homemade bread or coconut bake'', you profess wistfully as you think of your island home.

"I think that's quite sweet and I'm glad that you're able to share this part of your life with me,'' he confessed.

"I hope I can drag your butt for Trinidad & Tobago Carnival, get some seasoning in you as well as a little more colour, the fangirls I know would appreciate it, me being a major one," you say as you shut the stove off and begin to distribute the food.

The rain finally came down as you both began to eat, the warmness of the soup filling your soul, and the man sharing his love making you feel even more cozy.

#toto wolff #mercedes amg petronas #f1 #toto wolff x black!reader #Caribbean Life #f1 x black!reader #SoundCloud

[malice-ov-mercy]

“You’ve broken me. All I can think about is you.”

Pairing: incubus!Adam De Micco x unnamed OFC

Content Warnings: mentions of death/dying, mentions of life/soul transferring (???), (im not entirely sure how to tag any of this to be completely honest)

Word Count: 600

Prompt from this list

“You’ve broken me. All I can think about is you.”

A/N: kind of a continuation of Adam’s Version. Also kind of just a mish mash of words.

Tag list: @circle-with-me @foliosriot @cookiesupplier @concretenoah @sitkowski @dominuslunae @poisongirl616 @deathblacksmoke @Gretavanomens

If you would like to be added, please fill out this form!

Adam Masterlist

“You’ve broken me. All I can think about is you.”

A statement that was more like a plea, I stood firm, willing away the unpleasant feeling coursing through blood. Until now, I’d never feared Adam. Other than being a demon, he’d never given me reason.

Sinfully beautiful and dripping with faux innocence, his smile blinded me.

“My sweet lamb, that’s entirely the point.” His voice held no remorse or sympathy for the way he’s ruined me.

I suppose I can’t blame him because he’s right. Adam’s sole purpose is to wreak havoc, make me helpless, crazed, and so reliant on him that I become involent. He’s to strip me not only of clothes, but my humanity and will so I’m less inclined to resist the inevitability of my demise. Seduction was an art, and by the Devil, Adam was a master.

Naive I may be to think I’ve somehow had a positive influence on him, this creature of dark nightmares, but I hadn’t given up hope yet. I was bought, a purchased good, but I still believed that somewhere in the depth of his demonic heart and the place where his soul used to be that he cared for me—more than he’d admit.

He stole less of my life every visit. Often, he’d bring me morsels of others to replenish what he stole. Did that make me the same as him? I didn’t feel any different.

“You let me feast on you, allow me the pleasure of returning the gesture. You taste better when you're alive and full.” He’d say, pouring essence into me. Those kisses and intimate moments were my most cherished. He was most tender and lovingly giving me life.

Perhaps Adam was lying to himself like I was myself. He’s been this way for longer than he can remember. Maybe he’s just forgotten what it’s like to love. He’s capable of it, I’m sure.

I knew my fate was sealed the second he appeared in my unconscious mind. Death would sing her hauntingly beautiful melody and soon I would have to join her.

“I’m not sure how much more I can offer you, Adam,” I confessed. Clouds obstructed the soft sky blue of his eyes, hiding his intentions—something that’s never happened before.

“There’s… enough.” He didn’t sound convinced. “As long as you keep accepting my offerings.”

I memorized every crack and print of his lips, could draw a perfect replica if or if not my life depended on it, but—

This was nothing like any of the others we’d shared. Pieces of me instantly broke apart and flowed easily to him the second we connected. Not now. I didn’t feel the familiar yet odd tingle of another’s life filling me. I felt… an unusual heat, like the beginnings of an eternal fire. It spread through me quickly, delightfully burning from the inside out.

Dizzy and lightheaded, I clung desperately to him, unashamed of my desire. His tongue ran across my bottom lip, asking for a taste of mine. I sold myself to him, he no longer had to ask, I was his forever—but still he always asked and I swooned all the same, like I always did.

A harsh sting of teeth piercing my neck pulled a pained moan from me that quickly dissipated to one of pleasure.

“A sweet little lamb,” Adam rasped against my skin, his breath fanning the fire he started, “once so perfect, so pure, sent herself to slaughter.”

I threaded my fingers through his silken tousled curls, overwhelmed with arousal.

“What is a wolf to do when he can’t kill his prey?”

#adam de micco x ofc #adam de micco fanfiction #adam de micco fanfic #adam de micco fic #lorna shore fanfiction #lorna shore fanfic #lorna shore fic

[bloodandthestars]

𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃.

priest!au suguru geto x fem!reader. from JUDAS, a kinktober drabble series. mdni

tw: slight sacrilege? hint of suggestive :: author’s note: if any would like to be tagged, reply here or on the masterlist. Ty <3

wc: 750 :: masterlist :: previous part :: next part

Tap, tap, tap.

A slow rhythm from the end of his ballpoint pen hitting his desk. The look in his eyes were dull, as every thought trailed into static. Crumpled papers missed his office trash can, a few scattered on his desk. Suguru sat in the neatly tucked away room of the church to come up with next week’s sermon. And well…the process was still ever going.

He was on another draft, a couple sentences in to introduce the theme. Yet he couldn’t get the words to flow. Each one felt more broad than before with no meaning. The pastor could jot things down, pull teeth each time, if it meant his thoughts could trail back to you.

And it’s not like he could help it. Your touch began to slither in his mind and bury itself there as soon as you left that evening. His own hand brushed over his forearm and it couldn’t remotely feel the same. Had it been that long? His face twists at the embarrassing thought.

Slowly, his eyes relaxed as they remained shut. He plays back how your fingertips merely brushed. There was a static shock, nothing for him be as delirious as he is right now— or at least under the surface. It seemed to crack the more he thought about it.

Your skin felt like a horizon, a warmth he didn’t know his body craved— yearned for since his years of freedom. Could you touch him like that again? Only to move higher? Would you trace the flex of his veins as if they were an outline to canvas? The soft hills of his muscles?

His head tilts. He tries to tear his focus away from you but it seems impossible. As if no force could rival the spiral of his thoughts. Your eyes, he rather his eyes irritate than risk one blink away from your gaze. He could look at you over and over and never be bored. It couldn’t have just been him the way you both linger on each other, could it?

He shakes his head at the thought, brows forming one frustrated line. No no, Suguru knows exactly what this is. Temptation has made its way into the church and it was the devil’s doing. His resolve was weak, mind not fortified when it comes to you. How could he be so blind to the sheer power of the dark arts? This was what his parents were afraid of— put in his head over and over to keep himself pure. They let his earrings go, the tattoo was a total mess. They don’t know about the smoking— would He find a way for them to know if he could not enact the Word?

His hand goes through his hair to pull him from what felt like an endless body of water. Would you run your fingers through his onyx locks? Caress it with care from root to end?

Suguru crumbled the paper in front of him, straightening the new one. His eyes practically bored into the white space wishing for words to appear.

‘Faith over fear…when all else feels fragile…turn to the word of God.’

He knows the word. Was taught of it in his youth, knew scriptures like the back of his hand. He studied as if it was the pinnacle of enlightenment, as it was such for his family. The pastor could hear his father’s authoritarian voice, his mother’s soft harmonies over the gospels, echoing in his head. So why can’t one verse come to mind for his teachings?

Suguru let’s out a sigh, running his hand over his face. Another rhythm comes about when his knee begins to bob up and down under the desk. Pen begins to slowly tap again. Fragile, fragile resolve. Weakness under the heavenly eye. Unraveling thoughts, unraveling, peeling, exposing, undressing, that dress, your skin, your body, your hands, on him, on his arms, his chest, his neck, his-

SLAM!

His hand slams the pen down on the wooden desk, panting as his eyes shot opening. His breath was twisted and ragged, holding it in a hard swallow to catch it. He goes on to shake his head and jump from his seat. Suguru gathers his things, fingers fumbling his pages into his bag. He grabs his thick coat and keys with a hand turning off the office light as he already was out the door.

taglist: @getousrep

#writing #priest au #priest!suguru #priest!geto #jjk geto #jjk #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto x you #geto x reader

[katastronoot]

Friday Kiss Tag Game

Tagged by: @hannahcbrown thanks friend!

Tagging: @wispstalk @boethiahspillowbook @friend-of-giants and anyone else who wants to do it. This is so sweet

Rules: post a smooch between your OCs for Friday. It can be as light as a peck or as intense as a makeout. It can be romantic or platonic or familial. As long as a smooch takes place it’s free reign!

I thought about drawing something but I haven’t written anything for Baurus and Frieda yet. I planned on making it short and sweet but then 1200 words later here I am haha

••••••••

Strength.

She had always needed strength.

The moment she lost her parents and became orphaned on the streets of Anvil, she wished for strength. Pleaded for it. Prayed to the gods—the gods who were but just a whisper in the wind. They never really made their intentions clear. They weren’t listening to her prayers, couldn’t have been.

Because strength.

It never came to her when she needed it most.

Frieda’s gaze focused on the warm amber candle light flickering against the back wall of the washroom. It shifted the drab temple walls to those shades of warmer orangey hues complementing the deep red imperial banners that hung the walls. Her body was finally getting adjusted to the heat of the water that surrounded her, she could feel the stress of her endeavors begin to fade. With an exhale of breath she closed her eyes, trying to imagine that same flame from her candle. It took more self-control than she wanted to push away the visions of fiery hells that she journeyed through in the day prior. It was unavoidable.

Her waking hours were spent in the plane as well as her nights. She dreamt of that place.

Her own place. Her own piece.

Oblivion.

•••

He hadn’t seen her come back to the temple that night.

Martin was spending every waking hour studying the texts. He was on duty and was determined to never leave the emperor's side. He couldn’t let it happen again.

It was Jauffrey that gave him the order to get some rest. He would have denied it and stood guarding the door until his feet ached and he succumbed to over exhaustion. But, Frieda.

Frieda might just be the one reason why he would step away.

And he hadn’t seen her come home.

Most of his brethren, the other blades were retired for the night. It was late. The halls of the temple were quiet, only echoing each solid footstep he took. After hearing word that their hero came in but just a moment ago—soaking wet and hobbling down to the quarters—he took great stride to reach her.

Who knew what kind of torment she went through.

He did not find her sleeping in her cot and the rain pounding on the roof told him that she was not camping under the stars. He knocked on the door to the baths. No answer but a crackle of thunder shuddering from above. However, warmth was peeking through the cracks in the doorframe.

“Frieda.” He called softly but firmly. His eyes took in the sight. A sight that he has seen one too many times.

Her bare form was slumped in the bath. Articles of bloodied armor and underthings scattered the stone floor. The smell of incense and soap invaded his senses. It would have been pleasant if it weren’t for how dark the bath water had turned.

Crimson.

He approached her, chest rising and falling heavy. His skin touched hers and he felt her pulse beating at ease. He took a breath.

“Frieda, wake up.” He nudged her shoulder before taking a seat on the floor, an arm resting on the tub. Her eyes were rolling side to side behind her lids. Spasms and jolted movements struck through her joints as hushed whimpers escaped plush lips. She must have been having another one of those dreams. Those nightmares.

His gaze examined her body—riddled with cuts and purple marks. The dips and curves in her beautiful form were beginning to flatten. When was the last time she had a proper meal?

He cursed at her state.

For one so experienced in the art of restoration, she never conserved enough energy to heal herself.

•••

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of a voice.

Baurus.

Frieda took a deep breath calming the race of her beating heart. She didn't startle so easily back then. She was so much more composed. But, sending her soul into the madness of oblivion every day does provoke change.

Her eyes met his dark brown. Soft.

“How long was I out?” The hoarseness in her voice made her grimace.

“Not sure. I noticed you did not come in and as soon as I could I went looking for you… Frieda. Look at you.”

She couldn’t help but smirk at the mother-hen tone to his voice. He was just that. Always so caring and kind.

“I am still breathing, aren’t I? My limbs are all in place. I seem quite alright.”

He looked down upon her. His build still held above her even at the angle. She took notice of the furrow in his dark brow, its creases painted with concern. Someone with such duty should not worry about one such as her.

“Baurus, truly—“ her vision tore away from his to the sight of her pale skin against the tinged water. More and more marks. More that would become scars serving as constant reminders of her place in this war. Constant storytellers painted along her flesh. A wrenching sensation washed through her stomach.

“—I’m fine.”

“Have you eaten?”

She shrugged, “I had a meal this morning.”

He let out a sigh, “Would you like me to bring you something?” His voice was quiet. She looked up into his eyes—not wanting his warmth to leave her.

“Please, stay.” Her tone cracked as she placed her palm against his skin.

“I’m not ready to be alone again.”

His body shifted closer. She could feel the heat from his skin against hers that had begun to chill from the cold bath water.

“How is Martin?” She asked with intent to distract herself from her state.

Baurus shook his head, “He has been working hard. I don’t think I even saw him blink his eyes today. He’s pushing himself to the point—“ his voice took a pause and he exhaled. “You need to rest. Both of you. Just take a moment for yourself and breathe. Please. I am tired of seeing you suffer.”

“We both have a duty…I can’t rest. You know this.”

He felt her hand grip his wrist. As he looked down into her eyes he was able to see through the darkness that pooled beneath her eyelids. Her beautiful heterochromatic eyes that glimmered in blues and greens. He saw her beauty through her misery.

What he would give to take it away from her.

“You are strong, Frieda. You will fight this battle and remain successful as you are every day. In years to come we will look back on this as just a small feat in our lives full of many.”

Her fingertips brushed along his arm, pulling him in closer towards her. All of her attention pooled to the words that he spoke.

“I am here for you. I always will be. For you, for Martin. I am here and I do not intend on going anywhere.”

His voice grew softer, “you are not alone anymore.”

She smiled through the wetness that formed against her eyes. With a gentle tug on the linen of his tunic, he yelped as she nearly pulled him into the cool water with her.

The delicate skin of his lips met hers in an embrace. It was not forceful. Not lustful—but tender and comforting. They both needed this. A release of emotion in an act of intimacy. Being both on duty at the temple never allowed for much opportunity to show their affection.

This kiss was one of many to come, even if she had to wait far in between.

His lips parted hers. Deep brown gazing into two orbs—one of blue and one of green.

She knew at that moment that he was the one thing she never thought she could have.

Her strength.

#tes #my writing #oblivion #fan fic #oc frieda #baurus #hok #tesblr #tag game #oneshot #oblivion fanfiction

[tar-thelien]

Thank you for the tag @lordgrimwing

I haven´t written in about half a year XD, I got like four current WIPs tho I guess, my kidnap fam one, the one with Erestor, the one with Nerdnel and Elrond, and the angsty one with Maglor in the third age - I should begin again...

The WIP that currently makes the most sense is the one with Nerdanel and Elrond, Caranthir and Arafinwe is there too as guest stars, so here is the start of it;

Grimwing´s is here

Tagging everyone who wants too!!

Standing outside the art study, Elrond looked nervously around the garden it was in. Lifelike statues were standing around, hidden in bushes and behind trees, as well as below bridges, looking as if they had been placed randomly, yet that only made them look more like moving people. When caught only in a glimpse of the eye Elrond could have sworn he had seen two of them move. Their painted red hair of stone moving around the tree they were hidden behind.

When having interred the big garden of the manor Elrond had almost walked into one of the statues and yelped out loud as he came face to face with Makalaure, only his black shinning hair had faded as had the color of his skin and clothes, making way for the marmor beneath, and small cracks could be found in him.

“Are you sure you want to talk to her?” Arafinwe asked, noticing his hesitation.

Looking up at the older elf quickly Elrond nodded harshly.

“Yes! Of course. It´s what I wanted,” he murmured, “it´s what she owes me. As well as what I owe her,” he added as an after thought.

“What she owes you?” Arafinwe answered with a lifted eyebrow as he quietly chuckled at the Peredhel´s glare shot at him, “what she owes you.”

Nodding one finally nod, Elrond takes a step towards the door and slowly pushes it open at Arafinwe´s instructions before being met with a wall of heavy dark red fabricks in his face, of which has been pushed at him by the wind.

“I did forget to tell you, she tends to have curtains covering both her windows and doors when having a certain visitor.”

“Sounds like she is planning a murder,” Elrond murmured as he pushed his way through the fabric and the dust particles coming out into the open while facing the high king of Valinor.

Open having escaped the heavy curtains he turned around and was hit with even more dust particles, as well as the sound of clinging, like a hammer hitting rock, but a surprising amount of light too, coming from a ceiling window as well as some of the big windows on one of the walls being left wide open.

All over where there standing status. Some of them illustrateing objects, some people, other animals, all in various states. Some already looked done, although they didn´t have the same glint of light in the eye he had seen of some of the status in the manor, or garden, others still just a block of cold stone.

More curtains were heading down from the painted ceiling working as fine walls.

“This way,” Arafinwe said as he showed Elrond through the maze of sculptures and rocks, as well as carelessly placed tools and even some books.

Behind one of the curtain walls, where the sound was louder, a woman could be seen carving into a piece of stone standing on a wooding table, small pieces of stones and dust falling from it. Her long red curly hair had been pulled up in a bun at the back of her hear slowly falling from itself, letting smaller strands of the hair wind around her white loose lased tunic and dark brown loose pants.

In the closest corner, another elf could be seen, with shiny dark straight hair hiding most of the person's face. Some heavy fabrics and wine purple and black occipied the form leaving Elrond to wonder how much the elf was overheating. A pair of hands, now still standing at their presence, had been busy embroidering a red undershirt, where the only thing that could be seen of the person´s skin.

“Heri Nerdanel,” Arafinwe said cheerfully, opening his arm up but now walking close to the green eyed glowing woman who had turned to look at them with surprise.

“I thought you were the servants bringing the tea.” she answered with a lifted eyebrow, clearly not happy about being interrupted in her work.

“I would like you to meet my friend,” Arafinwe continued, unbothered by the cold look he received, “Elrond. He knew your oldest as you might know.”

Frowning the woman shot a quick glance to the other elf who had now returned to embroidering, although stiffly as if listening intensely, “yes. I have been told,” with that she turned back to them, lifting her hammer over her head, “and if you raise one word against any of my sen´s I shall throw stones at thy heads!”

“Herinya-” Elrond began, with surprise straining his otherwise smooth voice with a crack, but was interrupted by the sound of another door than the one they had entered, opening, and a moment later one of the servants of the place stood before them bowing quickly before speaking: “Herinya, it is ready, and standing in the pavilion.”

“That! Would be our tea.” she said with a cold glare, “Onya, do you still want tea, and would it bother you if… our guests… joined us? To talk about whatever they deem so important I guess, I can tell them to come back later and talk with me alone if this is too much at the moment.”

Both Arafinwe and Elrond turned their heads towards the elf in the corner, Elrond with surprise, Arafinwe with a small smile as the figure nodded, making the vail of hair rustle and showing a half bun at the back of the neck which was keeping a surprising amount of hair actively away from the already covered face.

“Thank you Moryo, we won't be long. We came with happy news but wanted to deliver them ourselves so as not to obtain a lot of unnecessary attention.”

Huffing the elf stood up quickly and went to his mother's side taking her outstretched hand and his as he pressed himself up to her glowering at them with cold mithril eyes. So much as Maedhros that Elrond shuddered.

´Moryo´ Elrond thought, ´that must be short for Morifinwe, which would mean he had now seen the fourth son of Feanor and was on the way to meet him. Caranthir the dark.´

Studying the scowling face Elrond thought it was a more fitting name than he had ever thought. The stern brows and drown back mouth, made him look as if he was snarling, mashed with the sharp hooded upturned eyes and red birthmark spreading across the left side of his face as well as his left ear that looked as if it was dipped in heavy big golden earrings a copy of the right, except from the mark.

Both seemed to have shunned the Noldorin braids for some reason, although Nerdanel made sense for what she had been doing, it was hard to find out why Caranthir didn´t wear them as Maglor and Erestor had always spoken of him as an elf of traditions.

---

“Have all your brothers returned yet?” Arafinwe asked as they sat down at the elaborate table sat up in the pavilion outside of the art study.

“... No.” Caranstir answered after having grabbed for a biscuit which he had slowly taken a bite out of before answering slowly and hard.

“Turca has joined Orome´s hunt again, although he seems to live more in solidarity now than before, and at times the Ambarussa joins him,” Nerdanell shot in carelessly, “Nelyo is on his way, and with him surly will both Finno come and Kana, wherever he has been hiding.”

“Ahr…” Aranfiwne said with a slight frown and stole a glimpse at Elrond who gave him a pointed look, “yes, of course.”

“Herinya, you might want to know that both Maedhro- Maitimo and Makalaure were like- they raised me and my brother, and I love them dearly, and so did my brother, and it was a great pain to me when Maitimo decided to leave for Mandos. Know he needed the peace-” Elrond started to say but held a pause to draw breath from the dramatic lift of the lady's red brow lifting.

“After Maitimo, left, Makalaure, drowned in his own despair and left to wander the shores of what land was left.” strolling off he looked at Carnistir who had snorted as he had mentioned Kanafinwe´s despair, “-after many years of misery for him I did find him at the shores.”

Silently the two elvers before Elrond and the youngest son of Finwe stared at them emotionless.

“Then has he entered Mandos now?” Nerdanel asked coldly, with a slight shake hidden under her stiff shoulders.

“No,” Elrond muttered looking down at the cup of tea, yet to be drunken of he hadn´t noticed had been placed before him, “I fear that if he entered he shall never return and that it will not bring the healing he needs… and I am selfish when it comes to my fathers.”

“So where is my Hanno,” Canristir hissed, “does he resent my choice so much?”

“Your choice-?” Elrond halted.

“No! Of course not Moryo! Kanafinwe is merely not feeling well at the moment. He is a bit tired from the travel over Ulmo´s realm, he has already apologized to your Hina I have let myself be told,” Arafinwe quickly cut in but was only answered with a grunt from Carnistir, “told? He might as well have spread a rumor!”

“I tell you, he has not the mind to do that now,” Arafinwe sharply replied, “and your son has returned with him, and I have been told, from him, that he wishes to know if you wish to visit him, or if you will rather he visit you?”

“Son?” Elrond said with a confused look but was otherwise ignored.

“Where does he live?” Nerdanel asked, “my doors are always open for him, for long have I waited to meet him from all the stories I have been told of my second Indyo, and I have heard Tyelpe speak of him as if he were two! I heard he was the High King´s Herald for a time.”

Happily, she looked at Canristir who looked confused back at her.

“Ah,” Arafinwe said with a little chuckle, “that was-”

“That was me.” Elrond said.

With a frown and a confused smile, Nerdanel leaned closer, “no…? Are your parents not Earendil and Elwing, and my sons merely your caregivers for a few years? The situation must have been hard on you and your brother?”

“I see them as my fathers just as much as Earendil,” Elrond replayed, now too with a frown, had the lady not known that? “If a bit different.”

“Makalaure later went as far as to adopt Elrond and his brother, and Maedhros, of course, had no choice but to follow, though I do not think he minded much. Although it seems not many know or accept it. I had wondered why you had not come running but it seems no one did tell you, Verresse.”

“... I did not know,” Nerdanel said with a surprised look on her face slowly turning into a wide smile. Beside her, Caranstir looked empty at them with an open mouth, as if he had been ready to say something, “then you too are welcome here!” Nerdanel exclaimed happily grabbing for Elrond´s hands over the table, showing pastries and small biscuits out of her way, “whenever you want!”

“Thank you Herinya, you are-” Elrond started surprised at the sudden change of mood of the lady in front of him.

“Call me Haruni,” she said with a soft smile, making her eyes wrinkle upwards.

“Yes, of course, Haruni,” Elrond said with badly hidden surprise and wonder, “I am honored.”

Smiling Nerdanel shook his hands, “you are family. Now! Do you have any ideas where your Rendole can be found?”

“No.” Elrond said after a moment of hesitation and flinched as Carnistir made to stand up but was grabbed by his mother and guided down to sit again.

“Amil!” he hissed in a low voice. “His name would be Carnisen Moriattefinwe?” Nerdanel informed.

“No, I´m sorry Heriny- Haruni, although I would love too to meet… my… Rendo…”

#tolkien #silmarillion #jrr tolkien #elrond #nerdanel #arafinwe #finarfin #caranthir #i think i shared some of this before #??

[jilyarchive]

OCTOBER AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: MISSGRYFFIN

Q: Where can we find you and your stories?

A: @missgryffin​, AO3

Q: How would you describe your writing style?

A: Intense, sexy, snappy, and fast-paced. I have a rampant imagination and love a good sexual tension build-up, so my fics usually include a lot of plot, drama, and (of course) smut.

Q: How do you come up with ideas for your writing?

A: It’s such a grab-bag. A pretty substantial number of my fics have originated from prompts, actually! I also draw a lot on TV shows/movies I’ve seen, novels I’ve read, tropes I see that I’m inspired to try, etc. Also, I find that a lot of my ideas actually form while I’m writing. I’ll go in with a sense of direction, but it’s not until I’m writing and really in the thick of it that the details take shape, and then new ideas begin to spout off from there, based on what I learn about what the characters and story need.

Q: When and why did you begin writing fanfiction?

A: Technically, during the two-year wait between the releases of books 5 and 6, because I was utterly HP obsessed, my imagination was in overdrive thinking about what could happen in the final two books, and I had discovered MuggleNet fanfiction / FFN by that point, so I’d been devouring all of that early era of HP fanfic. I actually have a giant binder of my own fanfic writing from that period; I would type up stories in Word, format them with fun fonts and fan art covers I found online, and print them out for myself. (Which, I still do this!) Fun fact: there’s even a Marauders story in there that I had completely forgotten about that has a striking resemblance to the bones of Eternal Summer. It genuinely freaked me out a little when I found it, ha! 

 But even though I wrote creatively through most of my childhood/school phases of life, I had taken a pretty substantial break in early adulthood and didn’t “return” to writing until the pandemic in 2020. Life was bizarre, Netflix had gotten boring, and I was craving a creative outlet or hobby that could make lockdown bearable. I randomly stumbled my way back to fanfic / fandom, and here we are!

Q: What’s one thing you’d tell someone who is considering reading one of your fics?

A: Buckle up! 🎢 Also, I hope you are either i) at home, or ii) have a really great NSFW poker face 😅 But to give a more serious answer, I’d say that I write a wide range of tones, and I really lean in to what that tone is. If a fic is tagged for fluff and crack, it will be so adorably sweet and cringe-funny that your face will hurt from smiling. If a fic is tagged for angst and darker themes, it will feel like a knife to the gut. (If it’s tagged for all of the above—cough Eternal Summer cough—you’re at the front of a line for a wild rollercoaster, my friend!) Since I write both extremes, I’m never offended when readers skip fics or prefer one “genre” to another. But please know that Jily is always endgame in all of my stories—that’s the whole reason why we’re here 💗

Q: What are some of your favorite Jily tropes?

A: Enemies to lovers is my #1, even if it’s more of that “enemies-ish” rivalry at the beginning. There’s just nothing more quintessentially Jily to me than the process of them discovering more layers to the other person and slowly realizing that the other person is so much more than the antagonist they’d built up in their head. (And that they -gasp- actually…like them! Worse, they like them like them! A lot!) Gets me every time. 

Other favorites include There Was Only One Bed, Hurt/Comfort, and Forced Proximity/Stuck/Trapped. 

Q: What do you like most about the Jily fandom?

A: That we celebrate how much of a power couple Jily is. I’m going to quote @jilyss’ answer for this because it’s so true: we understand James has an arrogant streak but grew up, we celebrate Lily for the intelligent, strong, cool, bamf woman she is, and we appreciate how they’re true, complementary equals finding real, raw love with one another. (And also all the wonderful reader and fellow-writer friends I’ve made! 😘)

Q: Pick a favourite Marauders era character.

A: My man JP. From only the few hints we get about him in the books, we know he’s such a dynamic person, and I really love bringing him to life. Also, his growth/redemption story deserved more air-time, so I’m glad fanfic is here to fill that gap.

Q: Self-promo time! List the fics that you are most proud of writing.

A:

Eternal Summer – My first born! Even though it’s far from being finished and needs a lot of work, I’m really proud of the world-building I’ve done thus far. 

Vindicated – This was thrilling for me to write because it’s a total departure from what I’d previously written: second chances, canon-divergent AU, American settings, original characters, more adult relationship, etc. I have more planned for this universe and I’m really excited for it. 

for the hope of it all – My latest completed fic. I challenged myself to write a softer, friends-to-lovers, mutually pining kind of summer fic, and this came together in a flood. But what makes me proud is that with this fic, I could really see how much my writing has evolved and improved from those early ES days. 

Q: Fic rec time! Could you recommend a few of your favourite Jily fics?

A:

Of Chrysalism by @maraudersftw​ – It’s only a short one-shot, but the way this fic haunts me!! Exquisite. 

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl​ – Lauren is the Nancy Meyers of Jily, and this fic is the epitome of that. A total comfort fic for me; I want it to be a movie that I can play in my living room over and over again until I know it by heart. 

Eighteen Again by @scriibble-fics​ – If I didn’t know scriibble was getting her PhD in History, I’d think she was a screenwriter. The world-building in this fic is like no other—I’m in a constant state of chills when I read it. The emotional depth, the heartbreak, the romance, the political intrigue…it’s one of those fics that never leaves you.

Thank you @missgryffin​ for letting us ‘interview’ you and for sharing your fics with us! ❤️

#october author spotlight #author spotlight #thank you!! #its requested author month #next will be another random selection :)

[no1frogfan]

Endings and beginnings, part 2

Tsukishima Kei x gn reader

Series synopsis: By all accounts, you’re happy. Five years out of college, your freelance art career is finally picking up and you’re able live comfortably between projects by bartending on the weekends. You’re surrounded by long-time friends and things are starting to get serious with your boyfriend. The cracks begin to form in the life you’re building when you hear from a mutual friend that Tsukishima is getting divorced. Tsukishima Kei, a person you used to consider one of your best friends, but whom you’ve spoken to only a handful of times since high school. You reach out to him for the first time in almost a decade, offering support to a friend you were once close to. As you gradually help him heal from his marriage, your old crush on him begins to resurface.

Chapter word count: ~2.2k

Chapter tags & warnings: alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, Tsukishima has a lot of negativity, discussion of divorce and emotionally abusive relationship

Note: The dialogue and organization for this chapter were so challenging to figure out. Hope it reads ok

Series masterlist < part 1 | part 3 >

2. March

Your attention is drawn to him the second you walk through the doors. He has the same standoffish demeanor that you remember from high school, the lightly furrowed brow, a frown perpetually tugging at his lips. Backlit by the lights behind the bar, Tsukishima’s hair could almost be mistaken for a messy halo.

“You ok?” Makoto looks at you with concern.

“Hmm?” You whip around to face him. “Oh, I’m fine babe. They’ve just really turned up the heat in here.”

“Yea, it’s practically a sauna. Why don’t I take your coat for you?”

You shimmy your jacket off and hand it over, thanking your boyfriend as he heads to the coat check.

The room feels both cozy and spacious, with a low ceiling and a large, open layout. The bar top curves all the way around the back of the room, and elegant, origami-inspired chandeliers hang low, giving off a dim and inviting glow.

Many friendly faces are engrossed in conversation around you, seated in small groups on plush, velvet couches or perched on padded bar stools. It’s been months since you’ve seen some of them. It’s understandable on their part, considering they have busy careers or are professional athletes. As for you, your schedule isn’t necessarily packed on a daily basis, but between juggling your projects on weekdays and bartending on weekends, it still feels like you haven’t been able to catch a breath.

You find the man of the evening, Kiyoomi, whose lovely wife organized this whole celebration - buying out the venue for the night and inviting all his friends. Despite his famously reserved personality, the soft smile on his face seems to indicate he’s having a good time tonight.

“Happy birthday Sakusa-kun!” You greet him as you and Makoto join the circle of well-wishers around them.

After thanking you, Kiyoomi continues recounting his recent trip to Paris with the rest of the Olympic team for 2 weeks of special training. Unfortunately, his wife had to stay in Tokyo to manage the new publicity campaign the Jackals are preparing to launch. When more people approach to greet Kiyoomi, you and Makoto take the opportunity to slip away and join another group of friends, chatting, joking, reminiscing, catching up. You both congratulate Daichi, who was promoted to fire lieutenant, and Shoyo, who just celebrated half a year with Asas Sao Paulo. You also toast to the Tanakas who are expecting another child in a few months. Kiyoko seems fairly relaxed about this pregnancy (their third!), but Ryuu is as nervous as a first-time father. Makoto sets about distracting Ryuu from his new baby anxieties, asking about the nitty-gritty of their preparations, about baby clothes, and doctor’s appointments, and juggling everything around two active toddlers.

You start to tune out the baby talk as you scan the room. You find him sitting in the same spot. Yamaguchi seems intent on keeping him occupied, mouth moving a mile a minute as Tsukishima perches at the bar facing slightly away from his best friend. Excusing yourself from Makoto and the Tanakas, you head over.

“Hey you two.”

Tsukishima’s eyes flit to you. He nods briefly in greeting before turning away again.

Yamaguchi, meanwhile, breaks out in a huge smile and pulls you in for a hug. “Hey! Good to see you, it’s been months!”

“Yea, it’s been ages!”

You’re all silent for a moment until you test the waters with a hesitant, “Sooo…how are you guys doing?”

Yamaguchi looks expectantly at Tsukishima. You do too, examining him closely for the first time in…3? 4? years. He’s still unmistakably him. Still gangly, impossibly long legs splayed out beneath him and lanky arms draped over the bar top. He’s grown into his body. His chest and shoulders fill out his button-down nicely, the sleeves tightening around his biceps every time he brings his glass to his lips. He’s slouching at the moment, which you don’t remember him doing much of in high school, but you’re sure he would strike an imposing figure if he pulled himself up to his full height.

When the blond doesn’t make a move to answer, Yamaguchi jumps in. “I’ve been good! Yachi too. I think I told you that we moved to the new apartment right?” You nod. “It’s amazing! The location is perfect and there’s so much natural light. We just got a cat too!”

“Wow! It sounds like you two are really getting settled in!” You try to draw Tsukishima into the conversation. “What about you Tsukishima? Have you started at the National Museum yet?”

“Yea, last month.” He gazes around the room aimlessly.

“Oh! Does that mean you’ve already moved down from Sendai?”

“Yup.”

“Some of the Karasuno guys and I helped drive his stuff down and get it all set up,” Yamaguchi chimes in.

“That’s nice of you Tadashi! And how’s the museum so far?”

The smile on your face falters as Tsukishima finally fixes you in his sights. He crosses his arms before snidely responding, “Shall we stop avoiding the elephant in the room?”

You look away, trying to hide from his piercing stare. Next to you, Yamaguchi fiddles with the cuffs of his shirt. Should you pretend not to know about his separation from Natsumi? A quick glance at him pushes that thought out of your head. No, he wants the truth. “I heard,” you sigh, unsure of what else to say.

The three of you freeze in that awkward moment for what feels like an eternity. You almost swear there’s a perverse pleasure on Tsukishima’s face as you and Tadashi steal uneasy looks at each other. He takes a languid gulp of red wine, grimacing as he swallows, letting the discomfort build and build before finally revealing, “The divorce was finalized last month.”

“O- OH.” Yamaguchi looks as surprised as you. “And, uh…how are you feeling Tsukki?”

“Happy? Sad? Angry? Who the fuck knows,” Tsukishima sneers.

“Why not all of them?” Yamaguchi jokes weakly.

Tsukishima lets out a scoff.

“Well, I for one am glad you’re in Tokyo now.” You reply cheerfully. “The three of us can have movie nights and pig out on cake together again.”

The muscles tense in Tsukishima’s neck. “Drop the charade, ok?”

“Sorry, what?”

“This. Whatever this is. Just. Stop.” His fists are clenched now, his tone venomous. “I appreciate you putting me in touch with your friend and all. Really. But you people don’t have to keep doing this whole fake thing where you act like you want to hang out or get coffee or catch up” - each phrase is punctuated by aggressive air quotes - “when we all know you’re just saying it to be polite. I know you can’t actually want to spend time with me because you barely know me anymore.”

You must look dumbfounded because Tsukishima’s expression softens slightly, but he doesn’t move to take back what he said.

“Tsukki-”

“Shut up Yamaguchi,” He flings every word like a dagger. “What’s the point in pretending? It’s not like you’re fooling me. I know I’m hard to get along with, ok? I’ve always been hard to get along with. I’m selfish, I’m mean, I have a shitty personality, and guess what? It’s even shittier now. I know I’m pathetic. I know I’m especially fucking miserable to be around right now. I know, ok? I KNOW.”

The air feels thick. Yamaguchi sits frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, wide eyes flickering between you. Tsukishima’s eyes sear into you. He downs the last of his wine, his knuckles white from gripping the stem of his wine glass so tightly, you’re sure it’ll snap in half any second.

He’s right, kind of. He’s changed a lot in the past 10 years, and your relationship has changed too. You can’t just pick up where you left off. The trust is gone and it doesn’t do either of you any good to pretend otherwise.

You take a step back and hold your hands up, palms facing him. “Tsukishima, I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch much since we graduated, but I promise I do actually want to hang out again. I can’t speak for everyone, but I’m not pretending, and I’m sure Yamaguchi isn’t either.” Yamaguchi nods vigorously at that. You continue. “I’m genuinely happy for us to have the chance to rebuild our friendship.” You reach out to squeeze his arm softly before dropping your hands back down at your sides.

Tsukishima scrutinizes you before eventually lowering his eyes to the empty wine glass in his hand.

“Me too, Tsukki. Let’s toast to rebuilding,” Yamaguchi suggests, flagging down the bartender.

The three of you clink glasses. Tsukishima unclenches his jaw, though he still appears guarded.

Yamaguchi clears his throat. “Did I mention I got a promotion?”

“Oh wow, congrats!”

Yamaguchi turns to you. “What about you? Any news?”

“Not really, just been busy lately. I started at a new bar and business there is pretty good. I’ve been trying to wrap up a bunch of small projects right now too - got a big one coming up soon and it sounds like the timeline for it will be pretty tight.” You start to tell them about your upcoming postcard project and the atmosphere begins to relax.

Tsukishima goes back to people watching as you and Yamaguchi chatter on either side of him. Slowly, he begins interjecting snarky comments while you two carry on about nothing of importance. It’s surprising how quickly the three of you can nestle back into this familiar dynamic.

“I missed this. The three of us.” Tsukishima jolts you out of your nostalgia. He sounds wistful as he stares at the liquor bottles lined up behind the bar. “I wanted to keep in touch more too, you know. It’s just…Natsumi… she always felt left out when it was the three of us, so I didn’t reach out as much as I wanted to. I’m sorry. And-”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to apologize.”

“-I didn’t want to be a burden either. I realized I needed to learn how to be independent and solve my own problems instead of running to you two for help all the time.”

Emika’s words come back to you. “Did…Natsumi say that?”

Tsukishima looks at you blankly. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in a relationship? Work things out with each other?”

“Yes and no… It’s always good to talk to your partner about your feelings and concerns about your relationship, but it’s also important to have other people to talk things out with too. Sometimes it’s just nice to have a place to vent about dumb things, but sometimes you really need an outside opinion, you know?” You prod a little. “I mean…didn’t she talk to her friends about your relationship?”

“Yea, but that’s different.”

You think you can read between the lines. “How is it different?”

“Well, you know what I’m like.” He shifts in his seat. “When we fought, she’d call them to talk and they’d support her, give her advice, help cheer her up… It helped her a lot I think…” Tsukishima trails off.

You see the gears turning in his head and decide not to push any further. “Well, I know we haven’t talked in ages, but I still consider you a friend.” You gesture around the bar. “You’ve got lots of friends here, actually. They were happy to help with the move and I’m sure we’re all happy to support you in other ways too.”

“Even Kageyama,” Yamaguchi laughs. That at least earns an eye roll from Tsukishima.

You open your mouth to hammer home the point, but Makoto walks up at that moment. He waves hello to Yamaguchi and you introduce him to Tsukishima.

“Babe, it’s time to go.”

You bite back a groan. Why did you agree to meet up with his parents tomorrow morning again? You buy yourself a minute by asking Makoto to grab your coat. As he heads off, you state firmly, “It was really good to see you both. Let’s go out soon, just the three of us, ok?” You give them each a small hug and head off after your boyfriend.

As you walk into your apartment, the exhaustion of the evening finally hits you. You sluggishly go through the motions, hanging your jackets up at the door, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and changing into pajamas before climbing into bed together.

Makoto’s arms are warm and comforting as he pulls you back against his chest. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yea,” you yawn. “I’m really happy I got to see everyone. Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course, I’m glad I got to see everyone too. My parents said they’re looking forward to catching up with us tomorrow.”

“Aww, that’s sweet of them.”

Makoto runs his fingers across your stomach and sighs. “The Tanakas seem really excited about their new baby.”

“Yea, I can’t believe they’re having a third. They make good parents,” you mumble, quickly drifting off.

He hesitates. “I think we’d make good parents too.”

Beside him, you’ve already fallen asleep.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima #tsukishima angst #froggy scribbles

[iamanonniemouse]

Rules: List the First Line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Tagged by @fiamac my beloved!

Rapture in the Lonely Shore: In a quiet corner of a quieter town stands a tree.

Hallowed be thy Name: The moment Ariadne begins the incantation, she knows she's already lost.

Batteries Not Included: The door chime sounds like a whip cracking.

No Key to Happiness: The door is shitty, scratched and worn.

Lose Sight of the Shore (WIP): Eames is sitting at the bar, idly sipping his drink, acting like another average businessman who just left the office and wants someone to keep him company for a couple hours.

A Form of Art: Ariadne walks into the familiar sight of Yusuf hunched over his glassware.

Lightning Rod (Part of my Ace!Omega series): Arthur wakes up in his bed, surrounded by sheets that reek of the usual post-heat scents but also Eames, and he immediately panics.

Hotel Room Service (A Foolish Dream remix): The first time is an accident, truly.

Ritual: It’s always so easy, at the start: draw sigils, light candles, strip naked.

more thrilling than understanding: It is a truth universally acknowledged that Eames never comes to Arthur’s briefings on time.

If I had to come up with a pattern I think it would be that I always start with some declarative setting-the-scene kind of sentence haha. I don't think I start with dialogue that often in general... I definitely haven't for these ten fics haha! XD

Tagging (absolutely zero pressure, and sorry if you've already been tagged): @dingdangit, @stormofsharpthings, @rudimentaryflair, @darlingandmreames plus anyone else who wants to give this a try!

#tagging game #fic #my writing #mousie rambles

[pinkykats-place]

BakuDeku soulmate au

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked are mine.

Some contain mature content. ✅ tags.

Art work by @cats0p & @shobibizu

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Imperfect by qween_bee

Summary: Babies are born with a soul mark on the back of their neck, similar to a tattoo. The soul mark is generally referred to simply as a person’s mark, and each person’s mark is unique. When a person falls in love, the soul mark of whoever they’ve fallen in love with will appear somewhere on their body. Some people literally wear their heart all over their sleeve… some people get real tattoos to cover the marks of lost lovers. Most people bear the marks of their parents, and vice versa.

Izuku got Katsuki’s soul mark when he was four. Katsuki didn’t get Izuku’s mark until they were in high school, and it threw a wrench into the delicate relationship they’d formed as rivals.

Complete | 11 Chapters

Rated - Mature

Twin Stars by theperksofbeinglarissa

Summary: When Deku saves a woman's life, her quirk is accidentally activated. Her quirk? She reveals a person's soulmate. A star-shaped mark appears on Midoriya's left arm... and on Bakugou's as well. Kirishima is the only one who knows that Bakugou is Midoriya's soulmate, and Bakugou isn't taking the news very well.

Can the twin stars of class 1-A work out their differences and find their happy ending?

Complete | 5 Chapters

Rated - Teen & Up

Under the Skin by spicymacaron

Summary: Izuku was born with the first words his soulmate would ever say to him tattooed on his wrist. Whoever his match is, they apparently think he’s a “shitty nerd”. Some people never meet their soulmate. Izuku begins to think that’s okay. Until he does.

One Shot | No Quirks AU

Rated - Teen & Up

Eternal Comfort by Bakanohero

Summary: Comfort is a feeling so often taken for granted.

Katsuki knows this all too well and has learned to cherish the moments that used to feel so far away.

One Shot | Married AU

Rated - Teen & Up

Shielding Your Heart by ReadingToMusic

Summary: When Katsuki's soulmate, Izuku, is declared legally dead, he's furious. Not because he's angry his nerd went and died, but because his soulmark, the thing tying them together at the most intimate level possible, still has colour in it.

If Izuku was dead, the colour would be gone. Everyone knows that, but no one cares, so Katsuki's going to find his nerd his damn self if he has to. Unfortunately, there's an idiot extra with shitty hair that won't stop touching him, but at least Racoon Eyes has his back.

Ultimately, it takes a manchild wearing a dead hand on his face for Katsuki to make progress in finding Izuku, but hey, nothing worth having comes easy, right?

Only rated Mature for gratuitous Bakugou swearing and mild sexual references!

Complete | 2 CH | Quirkless Midoriya

Rated - Mature

Colors and Shapes by MochiUs

Summary: A story told through soul marks.

One Shot | Quirkless Midoriya

Rated - Teen & Up

Carmine Red by Cadameo

Summary: Izuku loves several different things in his life but if he has to choose a favourite one, it would probably be the ability to see colour in Katsuki's eyes. Which he has been able to since they were four years old.

Lately, though, it seems Izuku's unwavering belief in happily ever afters and on the bond he shares with him is starting to crack. What he sees through those cracks is grey and lifeless and he wonders if he will ever be happy living life without Katsuki in it.

Katsuki and Izuku are soulmates. Katsuki rejected him years ago... or so Izuku thinks.

{One Shot}

Rated - General Audiences

We Burn, We Glow by s_the_queen

Summary: Izuku is turning 18, which means his soul mark will be appearing. He's pretty sure it's not Katsuki. He's pretty wrong.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Fire, Blood, and Snow by @amarisllis

Summary: Katsuki opens his mouth to bark out a question, to ask him what the fuck he’s doing here and why he isn’t inside getting warm like the rest of the sane population of their village, when Deku’s lashes flutter as he steps closer, a groan falling from his mouth. Katsuki freezes, his whole body chilling to a temperature colder than the snows surrounding them.

There’s blood seeping through Izuku’s coat, over his glove where his hand presses against his side.

One Shot | No Quirks AU

Rated - Mature

Permanent Ink by Maxine

Summary: The words that bloom on Katsuki’s arm are painfully familiar, to the point that he can hear the grating, wobbly voice saying them in his ear. They’re specific in a damning way, but at the same time vague enough that it could be someone else who says them. Someone he still has to meet in a situation that hasn’t yet occurred.

…Okay, so that’s a bunch of bullshit and he’s not pathetic enough to cling to desperate hope like that for too long. But he’s got some time to convince himself it’s possible his soulmate is someone else. Anyone else.

Deku’s birthday is still a few months away, after all.

Complete | 25 Chapters

Rated - Teen & Up

#bakudeku #soulmate au #soulmates #soul marks #archive of our own bakudeku #pro hero au #soulmate quirk #fic recs #ao3 fic recs #bakugou x midoriya #bakudeku fluff #bkdk #bakudeku smut #fic rec #ao3 bkdk #soul mates #fanfic recommendation #bakudeku recommendations #ao3 fic rec #ao3 bakudeku recs #ao3 bakudeku #bakugo x midoriya #bkdk fic rec #bakudeku fic rec #2023

[insertmeaningfulusername]

Writing Patterns (Tag Game)

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Thank you for the tag @babygirlbridger my beloved <3

“We,” Finn said, “need a Jedi.” (FinnPoe - Basic Form #3)

For the first time in ages, Bly woke to sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window. (BlyLa - New Beginning)

The eclipse occurred suddenly and terrifyingly. (Breha x Fox x Bail - Eclipsed)

Cody sat up in bed, wide awake from one moment to the next. (CodyWan - Take the Key to My Heart (I Don't Need It))

The village's houses were nothing more than broken shells - skeletons clinging to the mountainside, providing cracks and crevasses for the wind to blow through. (Gen Rex-centric with a side of RexAniDala - The Art of Losing (Is Hard to Master))

He wakes on a flat roof, wedged between a chimney and a ventilation pipe. (QuinFox - (You Know) You Love Me)

“Hello and good morning, commander sunshine!” (QuinFox - ((Not So) Un-)Welcome Gifts)

"Um, sir. You're doing it again." (QuinFox - You Make My Birdcage Bearable)

Fives is a warm weight on Echo’s chest. (EchoFives and HuntEcho - Parallels)

“Hey, Thire. Do you copy?” (QuinFox - Operation Beddybies)

Most of my first lines are quite brief and simple, establishing a location or a time of day. I often like to start just with dialogue, too, mostly when it's a more lighthearted story. But what really got me is the sheer overuse of parentheses in my titles alkfjadjfkllsk

Tagging @hraishin @fullmetalcarer @mars-attacking @mamuzzy-creates-stuff @lesbiankiliel @forloveofcodywan @riinoaheartilly @bilbosmom-belladonna @veradragonjedi

#i swear i'll do all the last line challenges and other stuff i was tagged in one day #i haven't forgotten #tag game #my writing

[sennamybeloved]

4﹕alternate universe.

✭ pairing: senna x seren (s/i)

✭ word count: 2731

✭ note: more stuff for my pride prompts! i was listening to a song and got muse for bewitching senna. lots of awkward flirting and banter in this fic! seren is dumb and senna is a little mean.

✭ tag list: @dragonselfship, @minkymeatshop !!

[ reblogs always appreciated // prompt list can be found here! ]

As the sky grows dark and the air grows colder, Harrowing Eve's festivities begin anew. Each year, it's much of the same; cheesy decorations, pastries and candy, trick-or-treaters flooding the streets. Then, the witches show up, and everything changes, for better or for worse.

Seren recalls what it was like when he first met the coven many, many years ago. They were magnificent, cutting through the crowd like bolts of lighting. Some took to the sky on broomsticks, wings, or plumes of magic, whereas others walked—or crawled, or slithered, or pranced—right down the roads, every once and a while to acknowledge an awed child that caught their eyes. They were all scales and feathers, all neon and glitter, the smell of sweet candy and heady incense.

Every since he learned of their existence, Seren has always wanted to be just like the witches. They’re colorful, proud, and unique, which is all he’s ever wanted to be. It’s hard to dabble in the dark arts when you weren’t born into them, but fortunately, mere months before this Harrowing, Seren was blessed—or cursed, rather, depending on how you look at it—by the bite of an unusual red fox.

He was transformed into a lycan, more specifically a werefox. It was not painful or frightening. He did kill anyone, nor did he break anything of importance. He just feels different, and looks different sometimes, but he mostly feels. He feels Runeterra, the magic laden within its cracks and crevices, unending possibilities hidden behind a smokescreen forged by humanity.

This year, he’ll party with the big leagues. He’ll run with witches and monsters. He’ll eat all the candy he can possibly stomach, and he’ll kick ass at the apple bobbing competition.

In the early days of autumn, he met a witch named Neeko. He was testing out his werefox form, and she was… also testing out his werefox form. She’s a shapeshifter. A chameleon.

“Say I wanted to befriend your coven,” he’d said to her a few nights before the party. They were sitting on the rooftop of a schoolhouse, and Neeko was braiding his hair. “How would I go about that?”

“Just talk to them,” Neeko says like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “That’s what Neeko did. One day, she went up to the spider lady, Elise, and said ‘hello, spider lady!’ She was very nice. Loved Neeko.”

Elise? Somehow, Seren doubts she was all that nice to Neeko. Though, it seems that Neeko doesn’t care how cruel the lady witches can be, as long as they provide her with ample attention. Seren respects it.

“Just talk to them,” Seren echoes, sounding unsure. Neeko nods, egging him on. She’s so confident and encouraging that he doesn’t stop to think that things may go differently for him, a gritty, not-witch with fur for brains.

On Harrowing Eve, Seren sticks to what he knows: apple bobbing. He does kick ass at it, by the way. Those kids never stood a chance.

But he does have to talk to the witches at some point. He promised Neeko, promised himself. His chest tightens and his throat closes whenever one passes him by, throttled by their elegance and beauty. He just has to say hello to one of them. How hard can that be? How hard should it be?

The first witch that really catches his eye, the first one that makes him want to talk, is the one the kids he just defeated in the apple bobbing competition flocked to once they were done sulking. Seren pears over the tiny crowd, honing in on the other side of the square, where a lady, clad in colorful robes and a token pointy wide-brimmed hat, stands beside a creature of some sort. Deciding that this deserves a better, closer look, he follows the children, keeping a safe number of paces behind to avoid drawing attention.

Upon closer inspection, the creature isn't so much of an animal, but instead a pumpkin brought to life. It has sharp fins and a wide maw forged from magic, causing it to resemble a piranha. The lady is feeding it, paying little mind to the children that crowd her. They ask questions, "What's its name? Where did it come from? Is it your pet?" The lady gives half-answers and forced smiles. She doesn't say much.

The children eventually disperse, feeling the sting of her apathetic disposition, which leaves only Seren. He stands there awkwardly, arms folded over his chest, face oddly blank as he watches the lady and her pumpkin-piranha. He only realizes that he's staring when the lady speaks: "Do you need something?"

He startles, blinking rapidly, prying his eyes from whatever he was looking at to meet her gaze. A staggering emerald green.

"Oh," he mouths. "No, ma'am. I apologize. I was just looking at your, uh, pet."

The lady hums. "Not a pet," she says, patting the creature on its head, much like you'd do to a pet, before putting two gloves fingers between her lips and whistling. Seren's confusion turns to awe as another creature—this time made mostly of metal, like a cannon given teeth, which looks absolutely absurd—floats toward her, beckoned from a dark alleyway. The creature's sharp green eyes lock onto the pumpkin-piranha, and within the moment, it gobbles it up.

"It's food." The lady finishes, and Seren's mouth falls open in a silent gasp.

This new creature assumes the pumpkin's place at her side. She leans down and strokes it affectionately, hand ghosting over enchanted steel. Seren blinks. He forgets just how weird things can get around the Harrowing.

"Ah, I see." He says, trying to sound casual, but it ends up coming out strained. The creature chatters its large serrated teeth at Seren, like a warning. Seren steps back.

The lady chuckles dryly. "S'not gonna bite you," she snorts. On a silent command, the creature goes limp in Senna's hands. She picks it up and swings it over her shoulder, resting it there, like a literal weapon—a cannon. It's perfectly still, appearing inanimate, but its eyes still move, blinking and darting around. It makes Seren feel uneasy.

“Hah. Uhm…” he coughs, clearing his throat. “Anyways, sorry to bother.”

The lady dismisses him easily, and if he was smarter, he would’ve left right then and there, but he doesn’t want to let this opportunity go to waste. After a brief silence, he speaks up again, “What’s your name?”

The lady, who was preparing to walk away and carry on with her night, halts and turns to face him, appearing throughly unamused.

“You don’t sound all that sorry,” she says, and Seren swallows thickly.

“What?”

“If you were so sorry for bothering me,” she hums. “You’d stop bothering me.”

An ugly cocktail of shame, embarrassment, and anxiety wells up within him, making him want to flee and hide. Somehow, he manages to stand his ground- sort of, though he’s certain that he doesn’t look all that confident.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I’m sorry,” he stammers, beginning to slink away, fighting the urge to take off running. “I’ll go. Have a nice night, ma’am—”

Suddenly, the lady witch erupts into bitter laughter. It does little to ease the tension, but it does make Seren stop and listen.

“Stop. Don’t play that game. If you want to talk to me, then talk.”

Seren blinks in surprise. She watches the lady take her gun-creature off her shoulder and prop it up against a nearby wall. It’s beastlike eyes flutter shut, as if it’s taking a nap. Unsurprisingly, talking to a witch feels slightly less frightening when she’s not obviously armed. He gulps down his nerves and rises to her bait.

“Okay,” he says, trying his best not to follow up with yet another apology.

“I’m Senna,” she answers at last.

“Senna,” he echoes. “That’s a lovely name. What’s it mean?”

She gives him a strange look, and he realizes that most people don’t know what their own names mean. That isn't common knowledge. He shrinks a little.

“Uhm… my name’s Seren.” He says meekly. “Means ‘star.’ I think it’s pretty.”

She offers a slow nod. Is she judging him? She’s probably judging him. God, Neeko must be real charming to keep getting away with this.

No, it’s not that she’s more charming, it’s that she’s confident. Seren isn’t. Never has been, never will be. Dammit.

“Well, Seren…” she turns his name into something nasty with her tone. “What are you doing here? As far as I know, werewolves change on the full moon. Thought your kind spend the Harrowing in the forest.”

Werewolves? Oh, that’s what Senna must think he is. To be fair, there is little distinction between a werefox and a werewolf: both have pointed ears, sharp teeth, glowing eyes, and scattered patches of fur on their otherwise humanoid bodies. Seren does very little to hide her supernatural state from the world, though it does earn him many judgmental looks—and maybe something worse, someday, if he’s not careful.

“Oh, no. I’m not a werewolf. I’m a werefox!” He informs her with a smile. “We’re very different. Us foxes tend to change on the new moon, and, not that this matters, but I usually have full control over my transformations.”

Senna gives him another quick look-over, harsh gaze scanning him from bottom to top, as if she’s recontextualizing him as a fox. “Werefox,” she echoes. “I don’t think I’ve ever met one of those.”

“Well, I’m honored to be the first.” He punctuates his words with a stiff laugh. She doesn’t laugh with him—or even smile, for that matter.

“So, you…” he begins, trying to keep the conversation rolling. “You’re a witch.”

She glares at him. “What else would I be?”

Seren tenses. Oh god, she really hates him.

“Uh… I don’t know! I’ve just never seen one like you before.” He says; a very blatant lie. He just doesn’t know what else to say. He still wants to earn her favor, but he’s panicking.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She presses, not keen on making this easy for him.

He stammers nonsensically for a moment before answering. “You’re, uhm… the- uh…” she points toward the gun-creature, which is leaning against the wall. “That. Is that your familiar?”

Senna’s gaze flicks from the Seren, to the creature, then back to Seren again. “Something like that, I guess.”

“Cool,” he croaks, his grin turning into something of a grimace. This is unbearably awkward.

Seren should excuse himself. He should dip into an alleyway and run for his life. He should leave the party—leave this town—and hide his face forever.

But, against everything that is good and sensible within him, he harps on, “And also you're, uhm..." suddenly, his mouth feels dry and his throat feels tight, "you're pretty."

There's silence. He spares her a very quick glance. She's staring at him, eyes wide and unbearable green from behind her round-rimmed glassed. He doesn't look long enough to read her expression.

"Not trying to be weird," he follows it up with, wringing his hands anxiously. "Just... saying."

The silence persists for a moment longer, before she makes a sound that is halfway between a scoff and a laugh. "Okay," she says. "Well, you enjoy the rest of your night, wolfie."

Wolfie? No, he's a fox. That would technically make him foxie—oh, and she's walking off. Goddammit!

"U-Uh, yeah. You too, miss!" He calls after her, but she's gone before he knows it.

He's left feeling terrible, ashamed, and humiliated. She really hated me, he thinks to himself. So much for trying to put myself out there. Fuck this party.

But no matter how far he shrinks into himself or how hard he wills it away, the party still persists, and to avoid further fear of missing out, he stays and tries to enjoy it. He keeps away from crowds, hiding in the shadows and munching on candy. Whenever he sees a witch, because they're always bound to show up, he hides his face and quickly flees for another hiding spot. The cycle revolves until it's almost dawn.

He's sitting outside one of the village's less popular graveyards, leaning against the metal fence as he unwraps his final piece of good candy; after this, he'll have to make a venture to get more. Either that, or he'll just go home.

He pops it in his mouth and tips his head back to watch the sky. The stars twinkle like a thousand fireflies, fluttering around the moon, which is as round and iridescent as a pearl. The air is crisp, smelling of dying leaves and rotting earth. It's peaceful.

His peace is suddenly interrupted by a voice, husky and feminine and sickeningly familiar.

"Hey, wolfie."

Oh, god. It's that fucking witch again.

Seren thinks he could just die then and there. He nearly chokes on his candy, managing to gulp it down unceremoniously before looking up at her. She's just as enchanting as she was the first time he saw her, with those full lips and striking green eyes. Thick curly hair pokes out from beneath her hat and billows over her shoulders. The fabric of her hat is slightly iridescent, which is even more apparent in this light. Her cape—oh, she doesn't have a cape. She has wings. Orange, translucent, whispy bat wings. They're only half there, clearly formed by magic as opposed to physical matter. Had she always had them? Perhaps Seren had been so distracted the first time they met that he'd simply written them off as a cape.

Ah, he's staring again. She's waiting for him to answer her, lips pursed, arms folded over her chest. He feels a blush creep back onto his face.

"Hey," he croaks, voice cracking lightly. "It's, uh- I'm not a wolf, by the way."

She cracks a little smile, suppressing a chuckle. A warmth blossoms in his chest. He may be laughing at her, but at least he can make her laugh.

"What are you doing all the way out here?" She asks, and he's surprised by the fact that she's even making conversation with him. He thought she hated him. She still sort of looks and sounds like she does, if he's being honest.

"Party got boring," he lies. "Wanted some peace and quiet."

She hums. "I understand that."

The silence that follows is peaceful instead of awkward, and Seren tries not to ruin it by looking over at her too much, despite really wanting to.

"Do you live far from here?" She asks, apropos of nothing.

He blinks. "Uh, no. I actually live just outside of town. In the woods."

Senna smiles, warm and genuine. Seren's breath hitches. "The coven is busy for the next few days, but if you'd like to spend some time together on, say, Tuesday, you can come over to my house."

Seren sputters. Spend some time together? What in the name of hell is she talking about? There is no way he's talking to the same lady he met in the town square.

"What?" He asks, audibly shocked. "You're serious?"

She rolls her eyes at him. "I don't talk for my health," she scoffs. "You want to or not?"

Okay, yep, this is definitely the same lady.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I do." He nods vigorously.

Her smile returns. "Fantastic. Look for a round, two-story cottage in the middle of town. It's covered in tinsel, hanging lanterns, and bones." He nods along with everything she says, committing it all to memory.

"That's great, I..." His mouth hangs open. Every question he wanted to ask dies on his tongue. He looks at her. She's already backing away, starting on the path back toward the village. "Wait, miss-"

"Senna."

"Okay, Senna. My apologies. I have a question-"

"What? I told you where to meet me. I'm a busy woman. I'll talk to you then."

And with that, she's gone. Again. Seren is left standing there, amongst a pile of candy and wrappers, alone on a moonlit night as a party resounds in the distance. He's confused, very confused, but he also feels strangely giddy. He can't help himself from smiling as he ponders the idea of being her friend.

He's worried that he'll mess this up, but considering how terrible he's acted thus far, and how she pursued him regardless, he doesn't think that he'll have to worry about that.

#* 💚 / death is drawn to life . #senna (🎃) #lotus writes #selfship pride prompts #self ship community #f/o community #oc x canon #self insert x canon