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kennahjune · 4 months

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No Upside Down steddie AU where Steve gradually meets the members of Hellfire (-Eddie) in and out of school and they all come to befriending him really fast because “Steve Harrington is actually a good dude”

But Eddie fucking hates it.

And this only spurs Hellfire on because they think him getting mad over Steve Harrington is fucking hilarious.

Jeff who takes a foods class in third period and Steve does to and then the teacher pairs them for a baking project and Jeff gets to go to Casa Harrington. And he realizes rather quickly that Steve really likes baking and cooking and actually knows what he’s doing and that he’s not just taking the class for an easy A.

Brian (I’ve named him Brian, yes), meets Steve in Art class. Like Jeff, he thought Steve was taking it for an easy A but when seats are changed and they sit together he realizes that, no, Steve’s actually kind of good at drawing (particularly scenery). They get to talking about one of Steve’s sketches and the rest is history.

Gareth doesn’t officially meet Steve until later, but he does see him out with the kids at the arcade. Gareth works at the arcade and there’s this particular group of kids that just irks him— turns out they’re Steve’s gaggle. He watches in begrudging amusement while Steve rounds them up like a pro.

Then Gareth officially meets him after Hellfire one day. It’s fucking windy and he’s just leaving to school to go home when the papers and sheets he was holding are fucking torn from his hands. Steve grabs the papers— there after some kind of sports practice— and makes sure Gareth has them secured in his bad before leaving with a dorky finger-waggle wave.

And Eddie just downright refuses.

And then the school year ends and Steve graduates. And he’s convinced he doesn’t have to see Steve again.

Until, of course, Mike Dustin and Lucas join.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are all ecstatic to share their own run-ins of Steve Harrington to the three boys who so clearly idolize him. Gareth happily recalls how Steve “tamed” them in the arcade every time he came in.

Eddie sits in brooding silence.

And then Lucas joins the basketball team. And sure— Jeff’s on the volleyball team— but basketball jocks are so much worse than volleyball jocks.

Mike and Dustin, however thrown out of orbit they were at first, seem to settle in eventually and learn to plan around it. They think that anything that makes Lucas happy is a good thing (even if it did take a bit of a talk with Will for them to realize).

But Eddie? Eddie can’t stand it.

Which is why he refuses to move the date for the final campaign.

But Eddie doesn’t even get to introduce Vecna before Steve Harrington himself is all but breaking down the fucking door.

Eddie has this whole argument in his head that quickly dwindles when he sees the pure anger in Steve’s eyes (and also because Steve is really fucking pretty holy shit).

Steve tells Dustin Mike and Erica to pack up and get to the game before he drags them and you know what?

They listen.

Including hard ass Erica Sinclair.

And then idk Steve and Eddie get into a whole fight about.

But Steve makes it very clear that he doesn’t appreciate Eddie making Lucas feel like he can’t be happy doing DnD and basketball because that poor boy deserves nice things dammit.

And Eddie sleeps on it over the weekend before hunting Lucas down first thing Monday morning to apologize.

Lucas forgive Eddie (against Eddie’s protest because let the man grovel) but makes Eddie also apologize to Steve.

Which Eddie does by showing up to the Harrington Estate.

Eddie apologizes and they get high together and the rest is history.

I might actually make this into something, it’s already pretty fleshed out but eh

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dominantslasherking · 6 months

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Billy and Stu with dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+. Backstory: You always manage to catch Billy and Stu's eyes on you, whether it be in the college classroom, or when you're purchase horror stuff, they always seem to follow you. Even in your house you still feel their gazes

The dimly lit college classroom was buzzing with chatter, but not loud enough for the professor to call on anyone. Minding your own business as you were taking notes and sketching little side characters on your notebook out of boredom. Eyes were lingering on you, It wasn't the typical glance or side glance.

The lingering eyes were strong and made you feel a cool sensation run down your spine. With a simple turn of the head, you spotted the two. Billy and Stu, how could not know them? Not only did they garner attention all over the college campus. You would always, always catch them staring, although they may be fast to react and look away.

It can't be a coincidence they just always stare at you, not to mention being in the areas you were, your favorite locations, dining areas.

But the really not-so-funny part is, every time you do end up making a friend at this college, they end up disappearing. It had gotten so bad that even your fellow students grew weary of you, believing you were the infamous 'scream' killer.

However after a night in jail and the kills were happening when you were locked up, you were cleared of suspicion but of course not from the college students.

Once the class ended. You made your way out slinging your bag over the shoulder and sighing.

Almost meticulously, with severe calculation Billy had bumped straight into you. He gave a pretty smile as Billy watched you pick up his books. "Thanks, hah," Billy said his eye gleaming with an intense undertone of desire and pure want.

"It's my fault, I should watch where I was going...lost in thought." Your husky voice mutters, stacking Billy's books neatly in your hand before returning them, noticing the subtle hand movement of Billy where his hand brushed against yours.

Turning your gaze to Billy's friend Stu. Stu was silent, his eyes roaming you. The typically loud and humorous friend was silent strange enough, he licked his lips and gave a big smile. "Wow! I love that shirt!" Billy's face fell at Stu's words, elbowing him in the stomach, not enough to cause him severe pain but make him go 'ow'

"What was that for?!" Stu muttered with a pout. "You idiot, his shirt is just plain gray! what do you mean you like it?" Billy scolded, hinting that he knew Stu was checking [Name] out, and now you probably knew that Stu was eyeballing you.

"Ohhh." Stu muttered, as they continued to whisper and bicker among themselves.

Your chuckle made them pause. "sorry, sorry, you guys are just--funny that's all." You spoke softly, you thought they were cute. Bidding them goodbye, you walk out of the classroom.

Billy stared at stu.

"Whattt? Not my fault he's so sexy!" Stu grumbled out.

<<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>>>

Later that day. You were at the DVD shop, looking through the thriller/horror second, making sure to get your hands on some classics.

With a loud and abrupt clank, your gaze faltered on the row across from you.

"Oops, did I ruin your guy's peeping session?" Randy had asked Billy and Stu. Stu gritted his teeth, Billy gave a urked glare. But the two of them knowing, your gaze was on them resisted doing something they were dying to do. They would just have to get back at him later.

"Wow! [Name], Thriller & horror movies? Nice dude!" Stu cheered pretending as if he didn't already know that about you...

Stu had started to chitter-chatter with you, while Billy was shooing and waving Randy off. Soon after Randy complied (after rolling his eyes and snarky comments) leaving the three of you alone.

"Ehm,--Well Billy and I, we love those types of genres!" Stu happily said as Billy's attention was now drawn to you, his feverish gaze landing on your lips every time you spoke. Taking a pause you spoke, "Really? why don't you two, come over sometime, we can watch them together?" You ask, as the two slashers freeze, slowly turning to look at each other and then back at you.

"What's the matter?...you don't want to---" Before you could finish what you wanted to say, Billy cut you off. "No-! No, we would love to."

Nodding you smiled, "Sure next time in class, we should set up a time and date." After bidding farewell, and purchasing the movies you got, you left, leaving Billy and Stu to celebrate together.

<<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>>>

Pausing the movie, you itched the back of your neck, a feeling of a sense of dread washed over you. You had it again. Like someone, was watching, analyzing, observing you.

"Fuck." a whisper, under your breath, as you got up to check your popcorn. Walking to the kitchen, you take out the bowl of popcorn, setting it down as the phone rings.

"Hello?" "What's your favorite scary movie, [Name]?"

#poly ghostface #billy and stu #billy and stu x reader #Billy loomis x male reader #Billy x male reader #Stu macher x male reader #billy loomis x male reader x stu macher #billy loomis x reader x stu marcher #billy x reader x stu #billy x male reader x stu #slasher x male reader #slashers x reader #slashers x male reader

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badgirl411 · 8 months

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Intoxicating: (Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader AU) 18+ WARNING

Pairings: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!Reader

Warnings: toxic relationship, possessiveness, strong language, SMUT, mentions of tattooing needles, sexual themes

Authors Note: Hello lovely people, I decided to write this Modern!Aemond AU as I have been imagining him covered in tattoos recently and I need the thought out of my head lol! This will be the first part of what will be a mini series. So please enjoy a slightly toxic tattoo artist Aemond, WARNING THIS DOES CONTAIN SEXUAL THEMES THROUGHOUT. MINORS DNI!

The quiet buzz of chatter and jazz fills the small space of the corner café you find yourself in, the weather outside is dull and it seems the heavens have opened themselves up as the rain pelts off the pavement outside the quaint café. There’s a chill in the air today as Autumn seems to be in full swing with the vibrant orange and yellow leaves falling from the trees to find their home on the ground, the latte clasped in your small palms provides a small semblance of warmth as you wait for your best friend Helaena.

Lost in idle thought you are startled slightly by the sudden arrival of your best friend; however, a look of genuine surprise is etched across your features as Helaena’s brother Aegon accompanies her. You rise from your stool pulling the siblings into a gentle embrace a smile working its way across your face. You never had any siblings, so the pair are the closest thing to family you have.

Aegon and Helaena are both tattoo artists possessing an incredibly popular joint a few streets over from where you are currently situated. Due to the popularity of the shop you rarely get to spend much time with them, making today even more special.

You have several tattoos yourself but have never had any done by the siblings, as well as a catch up today was also a consultation deciding after much milling you wanted the two most important people in your life to help create something beautiful that would remain with you for long after.

After chatting for what feels like hours you relay to them some of the ideas you have for the piece you want to get on your thigh. Both sketch small pieces of the design continually looking at each other then to you. Aegon’s eyes are drawn to the watch that is situated on his wrist the thick leather strap concealing part of the tattoo inked on his wrist.

“Shit!” Aegon startles you with his sudden outburst, Helaena seeming to understand the reason for the alarm.

“I am so sorry (Y/N) but we have to go, Aemond is watching the shop and we have clients lined up back to back for the rest of the day!” You roll your eyes unintentionally at the mention of their brother.

“Play nice (Y/N)” Helaena fake scolds you at your reaction to Aemond’s name being mentioned.

You see Aemond Targaryen was Aegon and Helaena’s brother and joint partner in the studio, he also happens to be your ex-boyfriend. Let’s just say things did not end very well between you both and have yet to see each other properly since besides seeing him through the back of the shop or skulking about in the background of a facetime call.

“Anyway, sunshine we will be in contact in the next few days Helaena will text you once the design is finalised to get your ok then we can lockdown a date.” Aegon kisses you on the cheek bidding you farewell with Helaena following close behind.

It’s three days later when Helaena texts you informing you the design is complete to your shock, before you can text back replying your phone buzzes indicating an incoming call. It’s Helaena.

“My darling Helaena hello, everything ok?” you greet her over the phone.

“All good babe, are you busy just now?” Her tone rising in question.

“No darling I am free, what’s up?” wondering why she is asking.

“Can you pop over to the studio, I am here thought you could come take a look at the design and see what you think. I can nip next door and get coffee if that’s any incentive!” you can hear her chuckle on the other end of the phone. As if you needed any incentive to go and see your best friend.

Throwing your hair up in a loose bun before pulling out a few loose strands you grab your shacket from the hanger next to the door and slip on your boots, grabbing your keys and making your way to the shop.

It’s about 20 minutes later when you arrive at the shop looking slightly wind swept, the smalls of your cheeks-tinged pink with the temperature outside. Pushing the door open you can see Helaena sketching away on her notepad, Aegon is nowhere to be seen.

After greeting each other Helaena invites you through the back of the shop leading you to the coffee like a dog to a bone, sensing your desperation for something warm to calm the chill settling over your body.

Little does she know the chill isn’t from the weather outside but at the mere thought of running into her brother, praying your ex is not in the studio and instead skulking about somewhere else. You are not prepared to interact with Aemond today, if only you can just get to the design, you can leave and hopefully avoid any interaction or mention of him altogether.

Sensing your unease as you look over your shoulder eyeing the door Helaena leans in closer and whispers.

“You can calm down (Y/N) he is mid-session with a client, I doubt you will see him.” Her hand rests atop your shoulder.

This does little to settle the swirling sickness in your stomach.

Sitting nursing the latte in your hand you look over the design Aegon and Helaena came up with and your eyes begin to well, the piece is special its beautiful. You embrace your friend who hushes you trying to settle the rising emotion in you.

Something catches your eye on the other side of the office, on the swivel chair sits a jacket. A leather jacket. You recognise it immediately as the jacket you bought Aemond for his Christmas 2 years ago, you had it custom made for him hoping to tailor it to his frame and personality.

You can’t believe he still has it, the way the both of you left things you expected him to have thrown it away or burned it in some cathartic outburst. A chill runs up your spine as you pick up on a smell that makes your hair stand on end and your mouth water. You remember it well, it’s Aemond, his aftershave. When you were together it drove you crazy, the smell almost intoxicating.

You are torn from your daydream when behind you the office door opens, the way Helaena’s eyes widen and the chill up your spine increases tells you all you need to know about who exactly it is that is at the door.

“Do I not even get a hello?” Aemond grunts from his spot against the door frame, entering the room to find what it is he originally entered the room for.

Your lack of response gives him all the answers he needs about how you feel about his presence in the room, a dry laugh escapes your mouth.

“Figures Princess” he sneers as he opens his desk drawer to grab a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Kiss my ass Aemond” you don’t acknowledge him instead raising your middle finger behind you.

What you didn’t expect was for him to make his way across the room to lean down next to you, Helaena’s features register a look of utter panic.

“Have done before Princess.” His mouth is at the small of you ear, the statement sends a violent shudder through your body as he uses this opportunity to exit the room.

The rest of the day is uneventful and thankfully there are no further interactions with your ex-boyfriend. The design needed no further changes and so you and Helaena settle on a date for the following week to get the piece done.

The Following Week…

Grabbing your keys, you lock the front door to your apartment making your way to the studio. Today is the day you are getting your thigh piece done, the piece is a combination of various flowers and vines that will wrap around your inner thigh and down your knee.

Grabbing coffee and a family sized bag of sour patch kids you arrive at the studio excited to start your session.

When you enter however you are greeted by an apprehensive Aegon who approaches you with hands raised in defence.

“(Y/N) don’t panic, Helaena is ill she’s had to go home for the day.” His look tells you this is not the worst part of this encounter.

“I am in the middle of a session with a client, or I would do it.” He continues trailing off slightly with nervousness.

“Aegon please tell me you have just moved my appointment and you aren’t going to tell me what I think you are going to tell me.” Gods be good please do not get stuck with Aemond.

He emerges from the back of the shop leaning against the door frame behind the front desk, arms crossed over one another. A shit eating grin plastered over his annoyingly gorgeous face.

“Fuck no!” you exclaim attempting to make a dash for the door before you are caught by Aegon who carries you through to the studio despite your attempts to squirm away.

Finally, you accept defeat deciding it’s better to get it done and just not interact with him, settling into the wrapped chair sliding off your trainers not wanting to dirty the chair.

“Looks like your stuck with me Princess” he deadpans setting up his equipment.

You can’t help the pitted feeling that grows in your stomach looking at the man who was the love of your life, his hair is tied back in a loose bun with a few strands loose framing his sharp jaw and fierce cheekbones. Your eyes rake over his firm tattooed body, the black of the ink covering his body accentuated by the stark white of the sleeveless top he dons. His lower half clothed in ripped black jeans, the clink of the metal chain attached ringing in your ears.

Your mouth is salivating, he’s wearing that fragrance. You shake yourself from your unprompted horny daydream willing yourself to maintain some semblance of composure.

The first hour passes quickly and no words are exchanged, Aemond has the outline of the top piece done. He glances up from his hunched position as he eyes you reaching for the bag of sour patch kids.

“You know you are predictable right?” his voice is low as he continues to tattoo over the stencil on your thigh.

“How so Aemond, please enlighten me.” You reply lifting a handful of sweets into your palm, you are about to pick up the green one when Aemond interrupts.

“You’re going to eat the green one first, followed by the red and after all that you’ll out the purple one in a pile to the side because you hate the purple ones.” You huff in annoyance because of course he is right, you are a creature of habit and you do hate the purple ones. So instead, you decide to lift the purple one between your fingers, coughing to ger his attention you gesture for him to take the sweet between his teeth instead.

He lets out a quiet hum of approval at the tanginess of the sweet which sends a jolt straight to your core, you missed the delightful noises he used to make when you fucked him. The way he would throw his head back when you took his cock in your mouth, lapping at the head before taking him down your throat.

“Open your legs” his tone is dangerously low as he pushes up the fabric of your skirt; you are taken aback at his suggestion.

“I-Im sorry w-what, are you mental!” you want to shrink up the chair but would most definitely fuck up the tattoo if you were to do so.

He looks up before smirking, “So I can do the linkwork of the stencil on your inner thigh…” you sigh in relief whilst also cursing yourself for wearing a skirt why didn’t you just wear shorts. “Good to know that’s where your mind went, still as horny and eager as ever.” He pats your inner thigh before getting to work on the stencil.

Your mind drifted back to all the times you spent between the sheets with Aemond, the sight of his head between your thighs always a favourite.

You and Aemond broke up about 5 months ago after one major blowout argument. You had been out with Aegon, Helaena and a few friends at a bar on the other side of town when Aemond decided to lay into a friend of a friend who you were conversing with. Aemond you see is jealous, possessive and hard to read, after months of constant arguments and accusations of cheating being thrown around this one evening was your final straw deciding to break your own heart and end it.

Aemond didn’t take the breakup well, for weeks after he would bombard you with calls begging you for another chance and promising endlessly, he could change. When you stopped replying to the texts and blocked his number you thought that was the end of it until he showed up at your workplace and caused a scene. After that you kept your distance and avoided any contact with him fearing it would only make things worse.

Until last week that is when he entered the office and today where it seems the cycle has come full circle with him between your legs again, albeit for different reasons.

“I can hear your mind going a million miles an hour Princess, also your thigh is trembling so whatever thought it is that you have right now pack it up or I will end up fucking this up.” He doesn’t look up from his position, but you can feel his breath on the delicate skin on your inner thigh. Combined with the sensation, the smell of his cologne and the image of his head between your parted legs you are utterly fucked. You are sure your thong is utterly soaked; you curse the seven for the situation you find yourself in. You continue to pass sweets to Aemond as he works on the tattoo and a memory flash before your eyes of the night, he fucked you in here, it was after a particularly bad argument when you found yourself against the wall with Aemond. His cock pounding your cunt relentlessly, the anger from the argument fuelling the two of you fucking.

The memory has your cunt utterly soaked and you swallow loudly trying to conceal your heaving breaths from the man infront of you.

His knuckles are void of any colour he is gripping the gun so firmly, his teeth chewing the inside of his lip and his nostrils flared.

“(Y/N) …” he pulls your attention to him as you hum in response.

“I can smell your soaked cunt from here Princess, do you have any idea how much self-control I am demonstrating right now.” He sets the gun down on the table and sit up still between your legs to face you.

“Do you have any idea how hard I am right now; how hard it’s been to be inbetween your gorgeous thighs and see you lost in your horny little thoughts. To have to sit here for hours smelling your deliciously wet cunt and know you are soaked and not have my cock buried deep in that fucking cunt. Do you know how badly I want you right now.” He is growing more agitated as he continues with his rant and your eyes drift down to his crotch to see his jeans impossibly strained from his throbbing cock.

It’s all a blur but before you know it you are on him, hands fisting in his hair furiously and lips pulled into a searing kiss.

You utterly breathlessly “Fuck me, please fuck me Daddy!”

And with that both of your clothes are discarded furiously and the door locked as you prepare for your ex boyfriend to absolutely fucking ruin you once again.

#modern!aemond #hotd #hotd aemond #hotd smut #aemond kinslayer #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond targaryen imagine #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond targaryen x reader

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coeurify · 10 months

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hear me out…. bumping into ellie wasted at a nightclub dancing makin out then she recognises u irl a week or smth later n it is on!!!!!!

ok.. this took a turn to be more post makeout fluffy loser ellie so.. yea!

Ellie was not someone who made out with girls in clubs, drunk off of whiskey she only ordered to try and show off to Jesse and Dina. Sure, she saw it happen— it was normal. But no, Ellie definitely did not.

Ellie never called herself a pussy, she would never admit that. But Jesse had no problem snickering it whenever her freckled cheeks were painted red after a girl looked at her at a bar or club. She didn’t usually do anything about it. Hell, the last time Ellie got laid it was because a girl had straight up asked her. Ellie just was not the best at all that.. seduction shit.

Nor was she good with no strings attached shit. That one-off hookup turned into a situationship that she couldn’t let go of. Ellie also had a tendency to pine over the most minor interactions with people. Once, a barista handed her a straw and after their fingers touched, she convinced herself it was the love of her life for the next week. So.. one night stands or messy kisses in the dim lights of clubs were not exactly her thing.

Except for once. Last Saturday, 12:07 am. Not that she had memorized it or anything. Totally not. She definitely had not scorched the night’s memory (of her hands against hips, lips that tasted like the cranberry juice mixer against her own, soft hands pulling her bun out to run fingers through it) into her brain. No way.

What Ellie will admit she remembers was the embarrassment that singed the baby hairs on the back of her neck as Dina slapped an arm on her back, the three drunk young adults clambering out of the tightly packed club close to 1 am. “I knew you had it in you! You totally rocked that girl’s world. Jesse, you owe me five bucks.” Then Dina had stuck an expectant hand out to Jesse, causing a short offended gasp from Ellie. “You made a bet on me?”

They did. Ellie’s own best friends had no faith in her ability to have quick and fun hookups like everyone else their age. But she had proved them wrong! She had made out with a really, really pretty girl.. no strings attached.

She didn’t even know your name. Not that she had to. You were both all too happy to skip the pleasantries and get straight to having your hands on each other. It wasn’t like she was wondering what your name was, and if she could find you somewhere on social media the entire walk home that night.

Definitely not. She convinced herself of this every day since then. Every time she saw a flash of hair that looked like yours around, or when her brain went a little haywire, and she came back to the messy sketch of your eyes on her notebook.

Within the week, Ellie had forced herself to get a grip. It was just some random making out, for fucks sake. She had no reason to daydream about how you had keened into her when she bit at your bottom lip. No right to be squeezing her eyes shut to remember how it felt to have your hand slip up the loose material of her shirt, heated touches against her stomach.

No, those flashbacks started to settle simply from the pure stubbornness of her own brain, which shot scoffs and head shakes straight out every time one popped up again.

But now, with her back pressed to the uncomfortable metal of a cafe chair, flannel pushed up to her elbows as she tilted her head back to enjoy the breeze from the sky, she started to think again.

Dina was leaning over a menu, biting her lip as she tried to decide what drink to order. It had been Dina who suggested they sit outside, at this particular cafe, so maybe El should blame what happened next on her.

The soft sound of the door swinging open sounded, bringing the auburn-haired girl’s face down from where it tilted into the sky.

For a second, she thought she was hallucinating. Really. Maybe something had been slipped into the water next to her, or maybe Dina had like— poisoned her for calling her annoying earlier. Because certainly, this was not real.

Your hair, the one she had brought her hands to tug at the other night, was on full display, your head tilted down as you rummaged through an apron with the cafe’s name printed on it. Ellie knew it was you right away, and blinked a few times to ensure this was not some evil hallucination.

The auburn-haired girl sat up a little straighter on the chair, causing an awfully loud screech against the cement. Your head came up simultaneously, the pen now in hand.

“Sorry,” you apologized, flipping to an empty page in your little order book. “Had to find a pen. What can I get you guys?”

You smiled, just like you had under the flashing lights of that club, and it was just as pretty as Ellie remembered. But when your eyes met hers, that smile faltered slightly. The pen slipped from your grip, clambering right onto the table with a very annoying ping sound.

Dina reached her hand to grab it, but Ellie was faster. As if was some competition, she leaned slightly over the table and wrapped her fingers around the pen, holding it up for you. “Here,” she mumbled, trying to keep any voice crack to herself. “Thanks..” you hummed, sniffling.

Dina eyed between the two of you, slightly convinced she had just been forced into the middle of some awful cheesy romcom, something that would be promoted with big blocky letters like ‘cafe meet cute!’ She cleared her throat, breaking the weirdly tension-filled stare down happening between the two of you.

“Sorry—“ you apologized, throwing on another cheery smile as you looked at Dina, “what can I get you?”

Ellie doesn’t even hear Dina’s order, and she also doesn’t prepare hers. She is too busy nervously twisting a finger between her other hand in her lap, sneaking very obvious glances at you, and then back down to the menu that looks like pure gibberish.

“Cool! And for you?” your voice questions next, smooth and sweet in a way that had the film reel of Saturday playing in Ellie’s head all over again.

“You can kiss me, you know?” you called over the loud music of the club, ignoring how bodies bumped against you every other second, sending you stumbling further into Ellie, who you had flipped to face, her hands still gripping your waist. Your eyes blinked slowly at her, glossy lips twitching up, head dizzy with the vodka and cranberries you had. Ellie wasted no time after your request, pressing forward harshly to capture your lips.

Ellie cleared her throat, “Uh..” great, she had totally no idea what to order. “Honestly, I’ve never been here... I’m not sure what I’d like. What’d you recommend?”

Dina didn’t even hold back the scoff from the other side of the table, because, really.. that was Ellie’s line?

You seemed to find it endearing, though, meeting her eyes again as you suggested your favorite sandwich and drink, pointing toward it on the menu.

“Cool…cool.. I’ll try that,” Ellie nodded, leaning back into her chair again. The sandwich you recommended had tomatoes, and she hated tomatoes. But it was fine.

You nod one too many times before turning on your heel and speed walking inside.

Dina started immediately. “Why the hell did you just eye fuck our waitress?” she accuses, leaning in to squint her eyes at you. “Also, you are fucking ass at flirting. Staring at someone with those freakily green eyes just doesn’t work.”

Ellie frowned, “fuck off, Dina.”

She waited to speak until she was sure you were inside the cafe again. “That’s the girl I made out with at the club,” she muttered, flushing slightly.

Dina’s mouth dropped open, “You’re shitting me.”

Auburn hair shook slightly out of place as the other sighed. “Nope. It’s totally her.”

“Damn… maybe you’ve got some weird curse on you that, like.. bans you from having one night stands.”

Ellie only scoffed in response. It didn’t feel like a curse, maybe more like a blessing to see you again.

“Hey, you can go two for two with shitty lines for waitresses and put your number on the receipt.”

Ellie rolled her eyes like it was a bad idea, but she definitely would do it.

#rins reqs ❀.#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams tlou

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delta-pavonis · 3 months

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Ooh, from the wip game: former mafia hob :D

I know I have posted bits and pieces of this in various places on Tumblr and Discord, but below is probably the largest segment of the WIP I have ever posted at once. And this is maybe about a quarter of it? It features an OC that I made up and then it turned out I was prescient because in my head Sandro looks pretty much exactly like Ethan from Maneskin. Also, to no one's surprise, this gets NSFW at the end. (WHAT?!? SMUT?!?!?! FROM MEEEE?!?!?!)

"And this guy, this Burgess, just had him locked in a giant glass sphere in his basement!"

"A human? Wouldn't he need air?"

Hob was in an ex-pat bar on the south end of Okinawa, doing a very good job of continuing to live completely off the grid just as he had for the past eight years.

The old man started up again and Hob strained to hear him across the length of the bar. "He just looked like a human. I worked there sixteen years and he didn't age a minute, hell he barely moved. I heard Burgess bragging once about how it was the God of Dreams that he caught! All I know for sure is what I heard directly, which is that Burgess kept asking him for things – magic, money, immortality – and the pale fucker just kept glaring at him. Never spoke a word. Just stared daggers with those unearthly blue eyes. I am telling you, if looks could kill, that old bastard would be dead thirty times over. Whenever that fairy King or whatever the fuck that shaved panther of a human-looking thing is gets out…" The guy whistled, leaning back from the bar and shaking his head. "The entire Burgess family tree is going to burn."

This man had Hob’s full attention now. He grabbed his drink and moved around to sit on the barstool next to him.

"I am sorry, where did you say you are from?" Hob asked, trying for casual, sizing up the ex-military guy. He had a muddled accent, but with a heavy dose of south London. His salt-and-pepper hair had been kept buzzed even though he had clearly been out of the service for a long time.

"What's it to you?" The man was immediately bristly, crossed his arms over his chest. He was defensive and closed off and Hob was going to need to work to get more information. Hob sighed. Or take the easy way out… just pay him for the information.

The Okinawan summer was too hot for this. Hob would give it one shot, try to explain, but if that didn't work it was Plan E for Easy. "I have an interest in the supernatural. And you certainly seem to have seen something. Could I ask you a few more questions?" The old-timer just stared at him, completely deadpan, unblinking. It made Hob take a sip of his whisky with its melted ice and then press the glass to his temple. "I can pay you for your time."

He perked up immediately after that.

> > > > > | | < < < < <

Two days later – and after an exchange of enough money to set that old-timer’s family up for generational wealth – Hob was settling into his Business Class seat on the long haul from Tokyo Haneda to Rome Fiumicino. He tapped out an email telling Gio his flight to Palermo was going to get in at 08:20 and would he be so kind as to send around a car? He needed to stop and see il Barone first (because his knee was bad enough as it was without getting kneecapped for failing to pay his respects) and then straight to the grotta. And make sure the shovel is in the car? Grazii.

It was his Stranger. It had to be. The description was uncanny. And the quick sketch Hob had drawn on a bar napkin had resulted in a rather emphatic positive identification.

And even if it wasn’t his Stranger, there was something being kept in that basement that probably needed rescue. There were paltry few things in the world, as Hob had learned over the centuries, that deserved to have their freedom completely taken from them.

Almost 22 hours after sending that email to Gio, Hob stepped out into the salty Mediterranean air of Palermo and sighed. His white linen three-piece suit with light blue shirt fit the aesthetic of the region as much as the weather. The smells, the breeze, the sounds – yeah, okay, Hob had missed it. But this was no time to linger. Focus, Hob! First, he had to give his regards to Salvatore and then he could go dig up his stash from his time in the Family Business. He put on his hat and dark sunglasses and walked out into the sunlight.

In the aftermath of 1889 Hob had, unsurprisingly, a lot of anger and frustration to work out. He ended up falling back on a reliable skill set he hadn't tapped in awhile: violence.

It was bare knuckle boxing first, which earned him enough money to leave for the States without disturbing his securities in the UK. He continued with underground boxing for a bit, because he was fucking good at it, until he got noticed.

Hob got picked up by Giuseppe “the Clutch Hand” Morello and Ignazio “the Wolf” Lupo and the rest was history.

First they took him in as a base-level associate, just another meatheaded guy who could fuck people up for them. And he made it to the Castellammarese War, which was as good a time as any to fake his own death.

But, by pure happenstance and a whole lot of luck, Salvatore D’Aquila caught him in the act, pig's blood everywhere, mutilated body that clearly wasn't Hob at his feet and well. That had required a bit of explaining. Explaining lead to talking, talking lead to negotiating, and suddenly Hob was heading upstate to train with the best.

And so it was, with some excellent mentorship on handling firearms and his innate knack for getting himself out of trouble, Hob became one of the most feared associates in Cosa Nostra.

In fact, he became The Associate.

See, he was never going to be a made man; he didn't have the proof of a Sicilian, or even Italian, heritage that he needed to be a ranking Family member. But any capo worth his salt wasn't going to turn away this level of skill and finesse.

And in return they had kept his secret. Mostly because they knew they had given him the means to kill them all if it was otherwise.

Well, it wasn’t like the entire Family knew. Just Salvatore and his immediate blood relations. Who he needed to stop and say hello to first, then to business.

Once the meeting was done, he headed to the coast.

When Hob left the Family Business he had literally put all of his gear into an air-tight oak box and buried it. One of the things Hob had learned over the centuries was that, more often than not, symbolism mattered. So it wasn't a surprise to find that when Hob opened the wooden box with a crowbar it was like seeing good friends come back from the dead. His shotgun. His sabre. His pistols.

He buried these along with his career in Cosa Nostra in 1998. It should have been earlier, but the six or so years after 1989 were a bit of an alcohol and cocaine tinted haze and it took him another three years after getting sober to work on his exit strategy. But once he was out he had abandoned it all and never looked back.

In fact, it was only in the past few months that Hob had let himself pick up a gun again to do some target shooting. Suddenly he was very glad of that coincidence.

After filling his duffle Hob stared down into the empty casket of his former life. He had never, ever expected to be in this position again, most certainly not less than a decade after abandoning it.

Crouched amongst the sand and the rocks of the beachfront cave, he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and sighed. "The things I do for you, Stranger." He closed the lid.

"Ti Umbra?" Sandro had been watching Hob silently up until now. Even as a little kid, Alessandro had called the thing that haunted Hob his Shadow. He was an eerily perceptive child, often ostracized from his peers because of it – which of course meant that when Hob had arrived in Sicily in the early 1980s they had become easy friends. Now in his early 30s, Sandro was mostly a driver, but knew his way around a weapon, as any son of a Don should. Hob had hoped he would leave, go to college, get out, but Hob never did convince him to. He was a good kid, he didn't deserve this kind of life.

"Si." Hob put his hands on his knees and levered himself up. "I think that he needs my help." A sigh as he kept staring at the box. "Am I that obvious?"

"Only to me, Bettino." The nickname had come from the diminutive of the diminutive of Roberto, which Sandro’s family knew Hob as. It was an endearment used only between them. "Only He could bring you back to this, to the Family." Hob felt the other man's hand on his shoulder and laid his own over it. The feel of those fingers was achingly familiar. "Let me come with you. You should not go on the rampage you are about to embark on alone, my friend."

Hob picked up Sandro's hand, placed a kiss on the knuckles. "Not a chance. I won't put you in such danger. And I won't let you see me like that." Alessandro hadn’t even been born yet when the Associate was working hardest, in the heydays of Murder, Inc., and all that entailed, when Hob rarely had a night when he wasn’t washing the gunpowder from his hands.

Sandro laughed. "I have seen you every other way, why not this one?" His arms went around Hob's shoulders from behind and he moved his lips to the shell of Hob's ear before dropping into Sicilian. "One more go at it? For old time's sake? Last chance to use me as His stand-in." He laughed even more at Hob's sharp inhale. "You think I didn't know? Oh, Bettino." He nuzzled into the hair at Hob’s nape. "That's how I was able to pretend you really loved me."

"Sandro!" Hob pushed away and whirled around, looking over his former lover’s dark hair and olive-bronze skin, high cheekbones and pouting pink lips, wiry build and black-brown eyes. Not wanting to misspeak, he answered back in English. "I did – and still do – really love you, you know that."

"Yes, but not as you love Him." Sandro shook his head as he moved in to press their foreheads together, arms back around Hob's shoulders. "You would not come back to the Family for me. You would not go to war for me. And that is okay. I know my place. I made my peace with that years ago, when you left." He leaned in to speak against Hob's lips. "But I would ask if you would have me one last time."

Hob let Sandro pull him to the ground amongst the rocks inside the small cave. Hob's shirt and vest were already discarded, his sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned. He unbuttoned Sandro's shirt and pulled it down so it caught in his elbows, draped down his back low enough for Hob to run his lips over the huge tattoo of Santa Rusulia – Patron Saint of Palermo, invoked for protection in times of plague – wearing a crown of roses and standing amidst a copse of lilies outside a cave not so different from the one they are currently in, looking out to the sun setting over the sea, that covered his entire back. Hob drew that image, originally charcoal on paper, while they were sitting on the beach watching the sun set on Sandro's 19th birthday in the early ‘90s. He didn't know that Sandro had even saved the picture until a shootout a year later had Hob ripping off the young man’s shirt to stop the bleeding and found the image permanently inked into his skin.

Sandro knew more about Hob than anyone living. They had spent four years as lovers in the mid-'90s. Hob had gotten sober for Sandro. He had left Cosa Nostra for Sandro, had begged for Sandro to come with him. But he was too scared of his father, Salvatore “the Baron,” to leave. He was worried about the fate of his mother, his sisters. Hob couldn’t begrudge him that. It still stung.

Hob shucked Sandro's pants down his thighs and moved his hand around to his ass, thinking that he would tease him dry before trying to find something slick back in the car. Instead, Hob's fingers found warm, flat silicone. He slumped forward with a moan and his forehead hit between Sandro's shoulder blades. "Oh fuck, Sandro. You have been full with this the entire time?"

"Ready for you, Bettino." He sighed, soft and sweet as candy. He let out a high-pitched cry as Hob slowly pulled the plug out and Christ it was huge Hob would be able to just…

There was a thmpt as the silicone object hit the dense sand a few feet away, flung aside as Hob frantically tried to get his slacks down as quickly as possible. As soon as his cock was free Sandro's hands were reaching back to grab it, lubricant that the horny little weasel must have been carrying in his bloody pocket smeared all over his fingers, readying Hob to just…

Sandro sat back and Hob slid into him to the hilt, all in one stroke, easy as breathing, smooth and perfect.

They stayed that way for a long moment, readjusting to each other. The first movement was Hob's hands stroking from Sandro's thighs up to his chest then pressing them together. When they started rocking Sandro let his head fall back with a sob.

"Did you keep your hair long for me, too?" Hob wrapped the waist-length ponytail around his fist and tugged. It made Sandro moan just as sweetly as it had all those years ago. "That's it, sing for me, bell'uccellino." He snapped his hips up and Sandro wailed; he always was such a vocal lover, his pretty bird.

#yes another mafia AU #in this one Hob is still canon immortal and Dream is still King of Dreams and Nightmares #fishbowl rescue fic #Dreamling #Pavonis writes

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dmercer91 · 8 months

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it doesn’t click why she’s being nice for luca until he goes with her on one day and he realizes which dorm he’s in

it’s her own way of coping without adam, because he’ll if she’d admit to missing him.

and then when luca finds her in there he’s like “…wanna call mo?”

i love!!!! black cat! readers love for adam

so much

like so much

luca heard nick and josh talking one day and they invited another player to their dorm, mentioning the room number and he was like OH? this explains things

same place, new people | opposites attract au, lf63

last year, you’d go to adam and lucas dorm every day after class. you’d snuggle into lucas bed and wait for him to come home for a movie, or you’d draw.

now that luca was living with you in your apartment, you had a new routine this year- every day after class you’d coop up in nick and josh’s dorm, sat in nicks corner of the room and you’d work on some personal drawings or something that needed done for class.

today was no different. the boys usually took longer to get here than you did, since they took their time walking, while you always had an unearthly pace.

so, you got there first and made yourself comfortable before the chaos started.

sat near the heater between the wall and nicks bed, your back against the wall and your legs cried crossed as leverage for your book.

you flipped the hood of lucas sweater over your head and pulled out your sketch book, flipping to your most recent drawing of cudo- the cat from the convenience store you worked at.

you’d needed to add some finishing touches, and you knew you’d be able to get it done while the boys screamed at nhl 23.

the door cracked open and you stayed concentrated on your paper, but furrowed your eyebrows when you saw lucas shoes in your peripherals.

your head shot up, nick and josh already getting out the game for the three of them to play.

“hi, pretty. s’ that cudo?” luca sat next to you, looking down at you.

you looked away from him, at your paper, tapping the back of your pencil on your book anxiously. you nodded, trying to read wether or not luca knew where he was and why you’d been here.

“i’m trying to make his fluffies… fluffy,” you murmured, going back to your drawing and hoping he’d go to the boys and grab a controller.

“looks good, pretty. d’ you wanna call ads later and show him?” you looked over at him, panic clearly set in your eyes

you closed your book and slid it off your lap, out of the way.

he smiled softly, kissing your temple. “um. if you want,” you said, clearing your throat subtly.

“he misses you, you know?” your lips parted slightly and you picked at your fingers, shrugging.

“really?” luca smiled, nodding. he pulled you closer to him, nearly sprawling you in his lap, and you hugged him tight, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while his squeezed your waist.

“yeah. we’ll call him later, okay? finish up fluffing your fluffies. know you concentrate better here,” you grinned and gave him a small peck on the lips, earning a fake gag from nick.

“dude that’s like my sister. hands off,” he glared, grinning immediately after the look served its comedic effect

“she was my girlfriend before she was your sister, moldy. get an eye mask or something,” luca joked, getting up and grabbing a controller

#opposites attract au !#e’s 500 celly!#e’s blurbs!#luca fantilli #luca fantilli x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #umich hockey

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year

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How would the M6 react to MC being drunk in front of them for the first time? The kind of drunk that changes MC's demeanor, and now they're all giggly and reckless

The Arcana HCs: M6 reacting to a drunk MC

~ I love this request. Also I know some of you are going to read this and wonder what the M6 are like when they get drunk, which is why I'll be reblogging the original creator's response to that question right after I post this! Love you guys - brainrot ~

- to set the scene-

It has been a very, very long Friday and you have never been more ready for the weekend. Unfortunately, by the time you make it back to your living space, you find a little note from your beloved apologizing because they're going to be back later than expected. You sigh, drop your bag onto the table, kick off your shoes and lean back to relax. You had picked up some spiked lemonade on your way back to try with them, but you figure a glass ahead of time wouldn't be too bad. You take a sip and are immediately disappointed by how little alcohol you can taste.

Half an hour and two large glasses later you can feel your head beginning to swim. Surely you aren't drunk, that stuff has next to nothing in it - until you check the label attached to the back and your eyes grow wide at the numbers you read. Just as the humor sets in and you begin to giggle you hear the door open.

"MC? I'm sorry I'm late ..."

Julian

Did he expect to come home to a drunk and giggling MC? No. Is he mad about it? Also no

He can't help it, the first thing he's trying to do is evaluate you. How drunk are you? Will he also be having a few drinks tonight or is he going to be staying sober so you can let loose?

He watches as you follow Malak around the house, trying to mimic his hoarse cawing

Water it is

Come to think of it, this is a fantastic chance to display his theatrical talents. He's always had a knack for comedy

You make one of the best audiences he's had in years. Even the jokes he doesn't deliver as well as he wants to are met with uncontrollable laughter

Will absolutely act out a comedy sketch in one of his stolen wigs, the plot getting increasingly ridiculous as he gets swept away in the moment

Will die of shame the next morning when you start quoting his amphibian-inspired Romeo and Juliette improv around the house:

"Forgive me, father frog, I got the warts from the toad. But how was I to resist him? His croaking was so passionate -"

Asra

When they opened the door and heard your giggles they knew it was a good night

And then he rounded the corner and saw your flushed face and lidded eyes and dopey smile and knew that you were apparently having a really good night

They're just pulling out a chair to pour themselves a drink too when they feel a draft and look up in time to see you marching out the back door

Now he's giggling as he jogs to catch up with you, wondering where on earth drunk you has decided to go at this time of night

The docks, apparently. Their story about Faust in the palace garden maze has inspired you to try the same thing

In the middle of the night

While you are not as sober as you should be to practice life-preserving magic

The problem is that Asra is your best/worst enabler, so if trespassing on the ships to jump off of their masts is what you want to do, then that's what the two of you are doing

Three, if you count Faust

You are absolutely going to get nauseated from all the floating and puke all over him

They had it coming for enabling you, but what they didn't see coming was you pulling them into the ocean for an impromptu bath

Nadia

She's never seen you so drunk before, normally when you drink with her it's at big dinners so you don't even get tipsy

She's wavering on how to respond. Should she partake in whatever delightful brew you've apparently smuggled into the palace?

Or should she dedicate herself to taking care of you instead?

Oh but now you're giggling and collapsing into her lap, asking her about her day -

She's telling you about this one meeting with a certain courtier and now you're interrupting her, arms flung wide as you go on a drunken rant about them

Well. She knew you tended to filter your thoughts in the palace, but she had no idea your opinions were this colorful. Or hilariously stated

Now she's reaching for the bottle of spiked lemonade and pouring you another glass. What other amusing judgments have you been hiding?

Muriel

Will spend the evening taking the most excellent care of you while she prompts you for more rants

Here, lie down in her lap, drink some water, let her give you a massage, and tell her more about your thoughts on the chamberlain's most recent outfit decision, and how it resembled a stoned flamingo

Happy to hear that you're happy, but a little unsure of how to proceed

Were you planning on getting drunk? Did something happen to make you want to get drunk?

Oh, the lemonade was stronger than expected? Ok

Wait no stop trying to climb him. He's not a tree. You're going to bump your head

Oh, now you're wondering outside and loudly singing. And Inanna's going with you because she thinks it's hilarious

He's enjoying this uninhibited side of you but he's concerned for your safety

And for the safety of all the natural wildlife that may encounter you in this state

Wait no don't climb that tree

When did you get so good at climbing trees? He's never even seen you try by yourself before and now you're a good twenty feet up???

Does he climb up after you? How will he convince you to come back down?

"... MC? If you come down, I'll cuddle you."

A moment of silence. Did it work?

All he hears is a faint "catch meee ..." from high above his head before you come hurtling down through the branches

He doesn't know how he survived all the heart attacks you gave him that night

Portia

Immediately inspecting whatever it is that got you so happy. She wants in on your secrets

Spiked lemonade? From that market stall? Haha, no wonder you're plastered

She'll have a little bit, but what she really wants to know is if you'll hear out her crazy ideas for your magic abilities

"MC? Is it possible to do magic while you're drunk?"

She's met with a lopsided grin and an unsteady flash of the funniest looking sparkles she's ever seen

Were those supposed to be ... in the shape of Pepi? Or a sea monster?

Oh, this is going to be so much fun

Takes you out into the garden because she needs to know if Cinderella's pumpkin coach can actually happen (one of her guilty reading pleasures)

You come up with some abomination consisting of several squash, a whole mess of vines, and one terrified rat

The two of you end up going on a joyride through the fields behind the palace, lurching violently in all directions

There is now a rumor of the menacing giggling cryptid that wanders through the fields at dusk, scattering chunks of ravaged gourd

Lucio

Party time? Party time!!

Already loudly praising your drinking habits as he starts gulping straight from the bottle

Maybe he would savor it normally, but you started without him so now he needs to catch up

He makes the same mistake you did, of not reading the label and assuming it was weak, and the bottle is empty in minutes

"You know MC, I'm kinda surprised something that weak got you that smashed ohhhhh wait a minute -"

He just stood up and is now swaying in place, startled by the headrush

And then he hears you snorting with laughter at yourself as you try to tell the worst dad joke he's ever heard

Normally at this point he'd be caught up in the frenzy of an out of control party, what's he supposed to do when it's just the two of you?

Except you told the punchline first, and then the beginning, but now you're kind of backtracking through the middle, and you're breathless with giggles, and he's laughing too

That's it, that's how the rest of the night goes, ruining all of your favorite jokes and laughing until you're nauseated and his mascara is streaming down his cheeks

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana shitpost #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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drea-ms · 3 months

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UNSPOKEN WORDS AND THEIR LETTERS (i love you.)

げとうすぐる. Communication wasn't the best thing for you, but for the ones you love and cared for? You'd write and talk about for hours, maybe years

warnings. ANGST!!! erm suicide mentions. plot twist 😨. haibara isnt dead. shitty communication skills between sugu n yn. long. not proofread. inspired by somethin stupid by frank sinatra. grammar mistakes. a lot of stuff goes down. it will probably will next chapter too..... dunno what to add here.... also if you want listen to somethin stupid by frank sinatra!!!

back. masterlist. next.

You left him a voicemail that day, Words slurred, sore throat, the worst he's ever heard from you. Geto Suguru hates how too late it was for him and you.

Maybe this was the gods way of giving him karma.

He turns in his phone, goes to his voice mailbox.

"You have one message. To listen to this message press one. To delete this message press tw—"

"Um—Hey. I-I know now's not the best time to call you, you're probably busy and still mad at me. I don't understand why though. Why are you mad at me? Why is it that you have to find a way to blame me to make yourself feel better?" you paused, swallowing the pain that lies within your throat, he hates how he knows what you're feeling right now.

You sniffed and coughed before continuing, "Um—I'm sorry, for everything really. Now that I look back at everything, it was stupid of us to argue, I guess some people realize stuff really late, I really hope you listen to this message Sugu." Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why is he feeling tears coming from his eyes, why does that nickname harm him a lot? Why do you have this effect on him?

You laugh with tears falling from your eyes, and Suguru wishes he was there to wipe them away. "Even if you don't, even if you don't ever see this message, I'm just glad I recorded it" you smiled, has the sunset ever looked as beautiful as it did right now? Do you think Suguru is watching the same sunset as you? You continue, "Hey, You remember when Satoru, dragged us out in the rain? we got all wet and later got sick. I think we were in our second year. Shoko got mad at us after and had to take care of us, Do you—" you choke up on your words before steadily repeat yourself, "Do you think, that whenever I look tired one day, will you drag me out to jump in the rain again?" The voicemail finished. The automatic voice came up,

"To hear this message again, press three, to save it press four, to delet—" he presses four, now crying his eyes out in the middle of his room. Geto Suguru truly was an idiot. It was finally night time.

When the news of the beloved [lastname] [firstname] was pronounced dead was a shock to everyone. What truly was more shocking was the fact that she left letters to everyone, one each, two to Geto Suguru. Each letter contained the same thing, to have fun, to not blame themselves and to live their best life. Why was his so different than the others? Why did he get two instead of one?

He knows the reason why, he just want to hear it from you.

The first letter read;

My dearest, Suguru,

I'm not good with writing my own feelings down, so writing this is already hard as it is. But, when you do get this letter, it means that something happened to me, or maybe I just never gave it to you and hid it or threw it away. Only time will tell.

Anyways, back to the reason I'm writing this letter. I don't think I've had enough time to tell you about my feelings. In the short time I have met you, I think I've fallen in love with you. Not in a just a crush type of way, in a way were if one were to ask me to write something about you they would get paragraph after paragraph of how I feel about you. Did you know that I would sketch you whenever I'm bored? I would draw you and somehow put you in any of my paintings, you remind me of so many things, yet i couldn't find the perfect time to finish painting you.

I think I've always loved you, I'm not sure when those feelings started, but, I knew from the way i tried to make myself more likeable to you. I would always practice every to find some clever lines to make the meaning come true, though i would always mess it up. I wanted to know whether you liked me too. And I think on that night, the one where we snuck out and headed to the bridge was the right time, your cologne (the one that smelt like mint & citrus and your cigarette smell) filled my head, I thought the stars went red and the night turned bluer than usable. I was confident to tell you my feelings, but I thought I would spoil the moment by saying something stupid like "I love you."

maybe we our communication skills aren't the best,

maybe we'll find each other in another life.

I love you.

[nickname]

I love you.

she loves me.

she loved me.

Geto suguru remembers that night, the almost confession and how you looked. He thought you looked wonderful, a painting yet to be painted due to the amount time and work it would've taken. He also remembered that there was music playing, you've always like oldies, something about them maybe you like them. Maybe you're right, maybe the lack in communication skills was bad for the both of you.

So Suguru, ever so the stoic one, breaks in your room, with the extra key you gave him and sleeps in your bed for the first time in days.

"How long do you intend on hiding her, Yu?"A blonde, tall guy asked, "I, I don't know what you're taking about Kento-kun. Hiding who?"the shorter male asked, nervously looking anywhere but the blonde, Haibara Yu knew if word were to come out about you, he would be in trouble. "[Name]'s not dead is she? What—" he gets pulled into a empty classroom with the brunette, "Keep quiet, Kento. If word comes out and finds out to the higher ups that the child they been so afraid of is isn't dead, then everybody's gone." he said, whisper yelling at Kento. The blonde, surprised that his senior (the only one he respected really) was still alive, and the only person who was keeping her safe in hiding was the ever so sweet Haibara Yu. Now that Kento thinks about it, Yu is right, If word does come out and your alive and Yu has been hiding you, the higher up will have no chance but to execute the two of you.

"Who else knows of this?" is the only thing that comes out the blondes mouth, worried about who might know,

"Right now? Me and You. Just don't say anything and keeping pretending she's dead, it's better that way." the brunette says, the serious tone in his voice never fading.

The shorter haired boy walked away from the blonde, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Nanami Kento wasn't an idiot, he found the situation a bit werid, he kinda knew about you (you told him minor details.) and he knew who reckless you were, so you doing this was off. He exits the room, heading to his own.

"Do you know how many times I almost slipped the secret??? wayyy to many to count!" Yu says, pouting on his side of the phone call, it was midnight and everyone else was sleeping so he was trying to keep quiet.

"You know Yu, you really didn't have to do all of this." a female voice say, her voice deep and soft, smiling on her side of the call, sure she was in Seoul currently, but the time difference was the same, she knew how much the students needed sleep, she, herself was one too. "I feel greatful that you're helping me, Thank you."she said, looking out at the balcony, the night sky was shining brighter than before,

"It's no problem, [nickname]." he said, looking out by the window, a smile on his face, "You know, He's been acting werid since—" "I know, I think he read the letter, I don't know about the number, haven't gotten a call from him, maybe he didn't read it.""Maybe." he mumbled, a nervous smile on his face,

"Anyways, I have to go Yu. I'll talk to you when I can," you said, hanging up after saying your goodbyes.

Maybe, this was what you needed, Maybe not. Who cares. At least your dead.

VAL SPEAKS ?!!?? dawg this was supposed to be ready by last week and my tumblr was kicking me in the ASSSSS bro i couldn't move shit n all, but!!!! i finished it, and i'm almost done with the series!!!! can't wait to finish this and do midterms.... sorry it looks shit,,, was on a rush to finish this....

TAGS — @sad-darksoul

tags are open!!!

#🌙 — val writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto angst #jjk angst

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13keithxpidge13 · 10 months

Text

I'm giving Miles and Hobie cute little kids bc I CAN

Hobie always wanted a big family. He knew he'd never get the chance to have one but it was the thought that counted, he supposed. He'd like to think about what his daughters and sons would look like, who'd he'd fall in love with to have his children with.

It was silly, to dream that is. He'd never want to bring children into his sick and twisted universe.

He never thought his dream would become a reality.

Miles and Hobie have Aaron when Miles is twenty five and Hobie is twenty seven. He was...sort of a surprise. They had been thinking of trying for a child after being married for almost three years but only thinking. Hobie was terrified of having children, even though he had permanently moved into Miles' dimension after successfully taking down his corrupt government. He was still scared because-what if he wasn't good at being a father? What if he fucked their kid up?

Even after several reassurances that he'd be great from Miles, it never really did ease his worries but it was nice to know that at least Miles had faith in him.

So, yes, little Aaron was most definitely a surprise.

He was a little hyper babe, always moving and always talking to his parents in his baby babble. He wasn't as hyper as Mayday had been but, he was definitely a talker, especially with Miles. But, Hobie soon found out that, much like himself, his son was infatuated with music of any kind. Despite that, Aaron liked it when his dad played his guitar the most, squealing and giggling uncontrollably when Hobie would strum his fingers across his guitar strings to make noise.

He also loves to go flying with both his parents. If it was nice out enough, Miles would wrap him in a tight blanket and hold him against his chest and swing from building to building, making Aaron scream and shriek with absolute delight.

Their son was already showing signs of being a super just like them. He could pick up heavy objects like an ipad or a glass plate with no problem and he had already tried climbing on the walls. Miles hair nearly turned completely white at the sight of their little boy in the middle of the ceiling and screamed for Hobie so loud he thought the windows would shatter.

Three years later, they had their baby girl; Brooklyn. Sweet babe she was but /loud/ she most certainly could be. She had Miles' nose, his pretty eyes, and curly hair that matched Miles and Rio's to a T. She looked like her papa and grandma in every way. Hobie absolutely adored his little girl, his precious princess.

She was a little terror though. She had Hobie's brash and outgoing attitude. She was /very/ demanding but had Miles' soft heart. She was a daddy's girl through and through and Hobie loved to dote on her for it. She had the same exact affinity for music that Hobie did and was a big artist. Brooklyn would scribble something on a piece of paper and immediately go to show her dada who would claim she was better than all those shitty renaissance artists from four hundred years ago. Soon, the fridge would be covered in tens and tens of scribbles and sketches made by Brooklyn, her parents cooing and praising her for her creativity. She also had powers, could climb on the walls and ceilings for days if she wanted. It was her favorite pastime besides her art and playing the drums. As she grows older, she becomes part of a band and her aunt Gwen teaches her all she knows about being a drummer.

AAAAA I love my punkflower babies. I thought I was really clever with their names hehe. If you want more.of them, feel free to send me asks! I'll be happy to answer them!

#punkflower

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lauptimist · 15 days

Text

Your hair is really soft after you wash it - Percabeth

a/n- this is the first chapter of my fluff one-shots series on ao3. I hope you enjoy it! pls like, comment and reblog. It motivates me so much. Also make sure you send me requests. I've had a few so far but it may take me little while to get them out. I'm hoping chapter 3 of this series will be out soon. :)

Percy didn’t quite know how he got here, lying next to Annabeth on her bed in Cabin 6. You’d think it was romantic, at least, that's what all her brothers and sisters thought when she led him in here with a firm grip on his wrist. But in truth Percy was pretty sure that this was the most uncomfortable experience he had ever had. He was as stiff as a board, not even letting the tip of his finger come within 5 inches of Annabeth in fear that she would kick him out.

Even still there was no way that he would want to be anywhere else, even just being in her presence made him feel good.

Percy wasn't sure what it was about her exactly that pulled him in so much but it could have something to do with the fact that he knew that whatever happened, she would always be on his side. And with the subtle hints that she had dropped to him he was pretty sure she felt the same way. Percy had always been someone who wouldn't dream of hurting or betraying his friends, no matter the situation. He knew he had proved that on their quest, with the arch and the golden throne being just a couple of examples. He had also noticed that Annabeth had been distancing herself from other people at camp, at this point Percy was pretty much the only person she spent time with and he was almost certain that it had quite a lot to do with Luke.

Saying that Lukes betrayal had hit Annabeth hard would be an understatement, she had barely left her cabin for the first three days, only emerging for meals and mandatory meetings and she almost always showed up with red rims around her eyes.

Percy was worried to say the least but he didn’t know how to help her when she was so desperate not to talk to anyone. He might not be the best when it came to emotions (that was more Grover’s forte) but one thing Percy did know was that the worst thing you can do is bottle it up. He knew Annabeth was struggling and he was ready to barge in and force her to talk to him until one day she just showed up at his cabin. He was slightly astounded for a moment and she seemed almost shy which was the last thing he ever expected her to be, but she just asked if she could come in and when Percy finally managed to stutter out a yes she just sat down on one of the empty bunks pulled a book out of her bag and started reading.

Percy was slightly confused for a while before he decided to just carry on with the drawing he’d been doing in his sketchbook. He wasn’t a particularly good artist but he had always enjoyed drawing as it helped him to make sense of the things happening around him. And so it became somewhat of a routine for them. Her reading a book (usually a different one everyday) and him sketching some mythical creature they had encountered (although a lot of his recent sketches had been of the owls he often saw in the woods). Until this lunchtime when Annabeth had come over to his table, ignoring the reprimanding glances she was receiving from Chiron, and asked if he could meet her in her cabin later.

Being the seaweed brained idiot that she always knew him as, he had not thought to go and get his sketchbook before he went and so now he was just lying there awkwardly as unlike his cabin all of the bunks in the Athena cabin were full and so they had to share Annabeths. Working up the courage he asked her,

“Annabeth, why are we in your cabin instead of mine?”

She turned and looked at him,

“Did I not tell you?” She seemed surprised

“Um-no. Unless I forgot which is very possible and in which case I apologise as-” he was rambling now.

Annabeth simply let out a small laugh that for some reason made his cheeks feel hot,

“It's fine Seaweed Brain, I’m pretty sure I forgot to tell you anyway. I asked Chiron if he had a monster proof TV, which he doesn’t but he did give me this Laptop instead which apparently has something called Disney+ on it. Im not entirely sure what that is but i assumed you would know so…” She stopped talking, noticing the astounded look on his face.

“O-oh i’m sorry if you don’t want to, it's just that you said we could watch a movie after the quest was over and i thought now would be good time…”

“No no no, Its amazing Annabeth! I guess i was just surprised you remembered, i mean it was a while ago.” Percy hurried to reassure her.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this since you first mentioned it back in Waterland.” Percy was smiling softly at her, an emotion in his eyes that Annabeth couldn’t recognise.

“Well then Wise Girl, what film do you feel like watching?” Percy’s face lit up in anticipation.

“Oh wait, do you mind if i have a shower before we start? My hair is kinda greasy and I won't have time for one tomorrow.” Annabeth suddenly remembered.

“Of course, don’t be too long though. I might watch something without you.” Annabeth let out a small chuckle at his teasing tone.

“Sure Seaweed Brain, 10 minutes. Max” She tapped his nose on her way to the bathroom, an action that brought a dark flush to Percy’s cheeks that he hoped Annabeth hadn’t seen.

Annabeth was true to her word and emerged from the bathroom exactly 8 minutes later with her hair half dried with a towel. She took a few seconds to tug a brush through it before joining Percy on the bed again. They were alone in the cabin now, her siblings had gone down to the campfire. Truthfully she hoped they would stay there until the movie they watched was finished, call her selfish but all she had wanted for a good week now was some alone time with Percy to watch a movie. Technically they were breaking the rule of a male and female camper being alone in a cabin together but she figured Chiron wouldn’t mind considering the highly dangerous quest to stop a war that they had just been on.

“I’ll ask you again, what movie do you feel like watching?” Percy brought her back to earth with a smile.

“I don’t know any so i guess we could just watch your favourite.”

“Yessssss. Okay so my favourite movie is called Finding Nemo and it is the best film in the world. It's about this fish that gets lost and his dad and his friend have to go and find him.” Annabeth smiled as he typed it into the search box, of course such a stupid sounding movie would be his favourite.

1 hour and 40 minutes later Annabeth had officially watched her very first movie and she had thoroughly enjoyed it. Whilst she was right in saying that it was a bit stupid she found herself laughing more than she ever had before, although to be fair most of the things she was laughing at were Percy’s stupid comments. By the end they were both pretty tired and almost falling asleep. Still Annabeth didn’t want him to leave and she was almost certain that a similar thought was running through his mind.

They stayed like that, in comfortable silence for another half an hour, curled up together, his arm around her shoulder, his hand playing with her hair. Annabeth was embarrassed as her hair was tangled from the way it had dried whilst she was lying down. However it was evident that Percy didn’t care as the next words from his lips were,

“Your hair is really soft after you wash it.”

Looking back Annabeth thought that might be the moment she realised that her little crush might not be so little after all.

#percabeth #percabeth fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo #percy jackson tv show #riordanverse #percy x annabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy and annabeth #fluff #percy jackson fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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mirrow-hamato · 3 months

Note

THE WAY I KNEW JD GAVE CLAY HIS SCAR THE WAY I K N E W IT!!

And yes! EK!Clay did get his scars from the Bergens! During the escape he got snagged on a claw and it ended up tearing him up pretty bad. The end result was being half blind and with exposed scarred skin that can’t grow fur anymore

As for how he’d react to that news imma gently stash that for my doodles later ;3c I got thoughts >;3c don’t u even fret bestie

(Very long post warning A.)

Haha well maybe it was a little but too obvious, was it?

Yea, when F!Clay was little (8 years old) He sneak out in John's room while he was sleeping. Just to make a small prank on him. When Clay head that John got up from the bed, he turned around right when John hitted him with his mechanical arm-claws. (The Bergens bite off his hand and he went very traumatised crazy after that day).

Likely for Clay - Bruce came on sounds and stopped John. Clay was unconscious for about three days and everyone was already sure that he would die, until one day Bruce heard lil' Floyd crying and he rushes in his room and sees that Clay was already there to calm down his little brother. Also John completely don't remember anything about that day except that he had a bad headache and nightmare. He never touched any of his brothers with his mechanical arm-claws after that day. (I even have a first design sketches for John Dory tho...)

Ah! Yes i knew that he got it from Bergens >w<. I actually had other idea for comics with EK!Clay and F!Clay that was about scars but then i decided made a funny comics about Bergens instead.

Oh wow you going to treat me with one more doodle, mate? How kind of you being so nice for such doom creature like me haha.

I'll keep looking forward for it! And thanks a lot, this day was actually feeling very special 💟💐 mwah 😘

#trolls band together #brozone #trolls #trolls 3 #dreamworks trolls #trolls clay #clay trolls #trolls fandom #trolls au #bruce trolls #trolls john dory #jd trolls #floyd trolls #brozonefellau #clay explosive kingdoms #clay fell #trolls headcanons

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wooahaes · 7 months

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a family of your choosing

pairing: non-idol!danceracha & gn!reader.

genre: fluff. chosen family <3

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: food mention. hyunjin and reader bicker a lil but it's not serious (reader is the hidden paboracha member lmao /j)

daisy’s notes: ngl. i kinda feel like these three would be the chill ones to go camping with.

“Is the thing secure now or not?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes from underneath the table where he’d had to re-secure the table after it flopped over earlier. With half of you dedicated to cooking, it meant you and Hyunjin would be there to help out with anything else. Minho and Felix had been looking through the ingredients they brought, deciding to go ahead and make army stew tonight since it was supposed to get chillier tonight compared to the next few days. You had offered yourself and Hyunjin to help set up the makeshift kitchen for the other two, and, despite the way he’d given you a ‘are you serious?’ look for half a second (he’d been mid-drawing and annoyed at having to stop when he was just getting into a groove). Now his annoyance was because you had been the one to try and put up the folding table, only to apparently miss something in the process. You’d taken over moving the heavier things over, but it was a table of all things.

“How come I had to fix this?” He clicked his tongue, crawling up and shaking the table with enough pressure to ensure that it was secure now. When it didn’t collapse, he leaned against it further, just to test it.

You pouted. “I don’t know–I missed something!”

“It’s a table!” He stood up straight. “You offered to set it up!”

“I moved the other stuff—”

“The kids are fighting again!” Felix called out from where he’d been pulling out a cutting board.

Minho had run back to grab the portable stove, and was nearing the group. “Stop fighting,” he called out, half-hearted as he walked past the two of you to grab a small plastic packet off the ground. It had once held screws—one of which you had missed in putting up this table. “You’re scaring the cat.”

Felix’s head jerked up as he looked at Minho. “Wait, am I the cat?”

“Clearly. That’s why you’re my favorite.”

Immediately, you and Hyunjin began to voice your complaints. What did he mean that Felix was his favorite?! Minho swore he didn’t play favorites with his friends—at least, he did last time the two of you called him out on giving Felix special treatment. He’d been kind enough to speak to both of you with the same thing Felix already knew: Minho was never going to joke around with someone who he felt couldn’t handle his sense of humor. Felix was sometimes softer than the two of you, and he was merely mindful of that.

Then again, he was also Felix. If you were forced to pick a favorite person, Felix would probably be it… and not just because you were the first person he texted whenever he had leftovers from cooking and his roommate wasn’t around (you lived the closest to him, after all).

With yours and Hyunjin’s jobs completed, the two of you could finally sit back and watch as the other two started to cook. Hyunjin had busted out the little portable paint palette from his bag to use later, curling up in the other fold-up chair as he flipped to a new page. You had brought along a few books and a little book light to clip onto it, and pulled out the soft, plush blanket to drape over your legs. With the four of you, this trip was more peaceful. Minho had been tasked with making the ramyeon, and you could hear the sound of Felix chopping up other ingredients, humming to himself. The atmosphere was nice, even if you could feel the slight chill nipping at your skin. The leaves had turned for the season, and you’d snapped pictures of the scenery earlier—as did Hyunjin, saying something about how he’d maybe paint it later on. He liked the lighting at the time, though, and wanted to capture it like that. Life with your friends was good. Hyunjin kept stealing glances at you as he sketched. Felix brought up something that happened at work the other day. Minho listened attentively, nodding along and asking questions. All you did was sit by and watch, appreciating your friends for a while.

(And maybe you’d sneak into the brownies Felix brought along when grabbing a bottle of water, passing one to Hyunjin as subtly as you could.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm

#wooahaes.fall23 #wooahaes.fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids imagine #skz fics #stray kids fics #stray kids fluff #hyunjin fluff #lee know fluff #felix fluff

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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 years

Text

Narrative Town: Uncle Ralph

Summary: It's a Rule not to get involved in grown-up stories. But when your parents' lives are in danger, even you will break a Rule.

Based in this world (X) where a magic town forces people to live out popular stories/tropes

-------

You’re used to your parents coming in and out of the house at all hours of the day. They always have a good excuse for why they keep such unusual schedules, but there’s no way they could have an excuse for everything. Being full time thieves is a hard thing to hide.

While they do their best to keep you out of whatever heist they’ve planned, there are some things that slip through. A grappling hook hanging over the edge of the mantle. A map of City Hall spread out over the dining room table, only partially covered by the nice table cloth that you use during the holidays. Police sketches on the news that bear a striking resemblance. Little things. Things you can ignore.

The old guy sitting at the table when you come down for school? Yeah, not something you can ignore.

“Oh,” the old guy says. He looks like he scams people who own yachts. His salt-and-pepper hair is slicked back and he’s wearing a linen suit at seven in the morning. He casually flips his phone face down and starts gathering suspicious financial documents back into a folder in front of him. “Good morning, kiddo.”

There’s a clatter from the living room and your mom lunges through the doorway. You haven’t seen her in two days and she looks rough. There are dark bags under her eyes and her hair is a frizzy cloud around her head.

“Fern,” she says, voice, tight, “honey. I thought you were staying at Caiden’s house.”

“I did the night before last,” you say. You’re trying to figure out how involved you need to get here. The guy is looking at you with way too much interest. It’d be just your luck if he tries to use you against your parents later down the line when he inevitably betrays them. At the same time, he looks like he’d leave one of your parents for dead if it benefited him in any way and you do not want that to happen. You let your backpack slide off your shoulder. “Who’s this?”

“Um,” your mom says. “He’s— he’s—“

The guy sits there smiling slightly, delighting in the rising tension.

“He’s—“

“My half brother,” your dad says from behind you. He’s got motor oil high on his cheek and smells faintly of sweat and iron. He grins and, being a much better actor than your mom, you can only see a bit of uneasiness in his eyes. “Fern can know, darling. I don’t want to keep it a secret anymore.”

The guy is delighted. He rubs his hands together as he stands, stepping around the table to hug you. “That’s who I am,” he says, arms spread wide and a shit-eating grin on his face. “Your uncle. Uncle Ralph.”

Your dad steps in front of you, pretending like the hug was meant for him. You’re treated to Uncle Ralph’s grimace as he’s forced to accept the bone-shaking slaps your dad rains on his back.

“So good to have him back,” your dad says, clear warning in his voice. He turns, one arm still slung over Ralph’s shoulders. They look nothing alike. Your dad is completely bald, shoulders well-muscled under his working shirt, and he’s got a face made for laughing. Ralph is cologne-ad-handsome and scowling. Your dad forces himself to smile. “He’s only staying with us for a couple days.”

Yikes. You watch your mom hover in the opposite doorway. She’s not happy at the sound of Ralph staying for a couple of days, you can tell. But she doesn’t say anything to contradict them and her eyes are like daggers on Ralph rather than your dad.

You study the three adults. You make it a rule to never get involved in adult stories. There’s always a higher chance of a bad ending. Death, dismemberment, general mayhem. Unless there’s a romance component to their stories, there’s very rarely a happily ever after. Judging by your parents’ reactions, romance with Ralph isn’t in the future. So it’s a regular heist story. Regular heist stories with a kid…

Well, they end really, really badly. Usually for the parents. Unless the kid steps in at just the right time.

“Awesome,” you say. You run over your school schedule, calculating. There aren’t any tests coming up and you haven’t missed any classes yet this quarter. “Can I stay home from school? I’d love to get to know Uncle Ralph better.”

Your mom makes a noise of protest. “Did you say you had a- a school project?”

“Nope,” you say cheerfully. You kick your backpack to the side and slide around your dad to go to the fridge. You’re going to need breakfast before this one. “I can take a day off.”

“Won’t Caiden miss you?” Your dad is better at hiding his desperation than your mom, but you still catch the edge in his voice. “You can always see Ralph after school—“

“Caiden needs to make his own friends eventually,” you say. You keep looking in the fridge so they can’t see the expression on your face. You’re very worried about Caiden, but he knows the Rules. You’ve got to believe he’ll be fine for one day. Two, tops. You turn with a yogurt in hand to blink innocently at your parents. “Why can’t I just take one day off?”

“Well,” your dad hedges. “That’s—“

“Just one,” your mom says. She ignores the panicked glance your dad sends her. “Okay?”

The magic takes hold all at once. You watch as it washes the resistance from your parents’ shoulders so that they stand, slumped and defeated on either side of Ralph. It settles into your bones and whispers your new possible roles into your mind. Child. Hindrance. Bait. Winner. Loser.

“Great!” Ralph claps his hands together. His eyes are calculating as he looks you over. “I can’t wait to get to know you, Fern.”

You bare your teeth and take glee in the half-flinch Ralph can’t hide. “Same, Uncle Ralph,” you say. “Same.”

——48 hours later ——

Alarms blare, earth shatteringly loud in the stillness of the night. You’re crouched under a desk, a flash drive clenched in one hand, waiting for your parents to come back to get you. The complex is big enough that they’d hidden you in one building and gone to create a distraction in the other. If all goes to plan, the three of you will be at home in less than an hour.

You breathe in deeply through your nose, straining your ears for any indication that they’re on their way. All of your preparation comes down to this moment. There’s nothing else you can do to influence the story.

Someone enters the office and shuts the door behind them.

You hold your breath, knuckles white around the flash drive.

The screaming of the alarms continues but muffled enough that you can hear the footsteps of the person approaching your hiding spot. Your heart sinks. Not two sets of footsteps. One.

“Little niece,” Ralph croons. He stops what sounds like a dozen feet from your hiding spot. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Your mind races. He’s supposed to be dead. The first phase of the plan had involved swimming through flooded tunnels to get into the building. There’d been a problem with the equipment and he’d forced your mom to take his oxygen tank so she could continue on. Your mom cried when she got out, relaying how he’d swum away from her to hide his final moments.

He made my mom cry, you think. You roll out from under the desk, gaining your feet in the walkway between cubicles to face Ralph head on.

“Not surprised? I figured. I knew you knew I was alive,” Ralph says. He doesn’t look like a scam artist anymore. No, he looks like a true villain. His hair is tangled around his face and he’s no longer in the wetsuit you last saw him in. He’s wearing a guard’s uniform.While you and your parents struggled to infiltrate this place, he just walked right in the front door. “Clever little niece.”

You feel the magic of the town all around you now, thrumming with tension. If there was an orchestra soundtrack, it would be swelling over this dramatic reveal. You’re dressed like a mini-version of your dad in a full, black jumpsuit and you’ve got your mom’s grappling hook over your shoulder. Ralph’s uniform is all white and tan, just like the suit he first appeared in. You’ve been changed by this story. Dragged out of the naive high schooler persona you once inhabited to become a thief, like your parents.

Ralph? Ralph was always going to betray you.

“What happens now?” You gesture to Ralph and then to the building your parents are still in. “You fake your death and…take the flash drive?”

“By force, if necessary,” Ralph agrees. He smirks. “I knew I would never be able to take it off your dad or your mom. They’re the best hand-to-hand specialists in the business. But their defenseless, untrained daughter? It was a cakewalk to manipulate the situation in my favor.” His face hardens and he holds out a hand. “The flash drive, Fern. I know you have it.”

You let the moment stretch. The alarms are still blaring and you don’t hear the car horn that’s supposed to be the signal for you to come out. Your parents aren’t coming yet. They probably won’t make it in time.

Your shoulders shake. You duck your chin against your chest to hide your expression. The flash drive is hot in your hand.

“I don’t have all day, Fern,” Ralph growls. “Give me the flash drive!”

You give in. You throw back your head, howling with laughter.

Ralph blinks, hand faltering. “What?”

“I knew you knew that I knew you faked your death,” you say. You snort a little. “Giving up an oxygen tank? Swimming away to die? It was all just a little too kind for the Uncle Ralph I know.”

Ralph clicks his tongue. He’s wrong-footed, eyes darting to the doors and windows, but trying to hide it.“You should know that I’m not your uncle.”

“No duh,” you say. You wipe your eyes. “That’s why I’ve been watching you this entire time. I know you were in contact with the CEO. I know he paid you to steal the prototype and blame my parents for its theft and for the theft of the financial records.”

“Well,” Ralph says, “I knew you overheard that phone call. So I’ve been monitoring your conversations with your parents this entire time! That’s how I found out that they were planning to frame me for the theft of the financial records if we got caught. So I faked my death and set the alarms off on them so they’d be caught red-handed!”

“I knew you knew I overheard the phone call,” you counter. A spotlight outside swings towards you, silhouetting you for this revelation. “I knew that neither of my parents could stop you when you had such a powerful backer. Only one person could get in your way. That’s why I called —“

“The police, I know,” Ralph says. He takes an aggressive step towards you and the spotlight casts him in shadow like an avenging angel. “What you don’t know is that I was the operator on the other end of the line! I knew you knew your parents wouldn’t be able to get out of my little web. They were going down and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Why you didn’t tell your parents, I don’t know. But I knew the instant you knew I faked my death, you’d call. So I hacked your phone—“

“I knew you hacked my phone,” you interrupt, taking your own aggressive step forward. Ralph’s mouth clicks shut. The magic of the story wavers around you as the plot twists yet again. “So I played your little game and pretended that I thought I was talking to the police.” You draw out your phone and turn it to show Ralph. “But really? I was sending an email to your boss.”

The magic is really confused now. It undulates around you, trying to keep the narrative tension tight. Ralph is struggling to follow the timeline of what you’re describing and, to be honest, so are you.

“The CEO?” Ralph shakes his head. “No, he’s already in on everything. He knows that I hired your parents to steal the financial records to cover for when I stole the prototype for him so that the shareholders would never know it doesn’t work—“

Magic sparks out of his eyes as he talks faster and faster, trying to keep one step ahead in this convoluted story. You’d pity him if he hadn’t made your mom cry.

“Not him,” you say, “your real boss.”

The magic snaps like a twig. The alarms stop blaring and the searchlight blinks out as the electricity dies in the building. The light of the full moon streams through the windows. Ralph gapes at you, frozen with his hand still outstretched for the blank flash drive you’re holding.

“Don’t you think it’s strange,” you continue softly. This is the tricky part. You’ve met Ralph toe-to-toe. If you’re not careful, you’re going to become his arch nemesis. “Why would the CEO hire not one, but two teams of thieves for this?”

“Your parents are the smokescreen,” Ralph says numbly. But his eyes are far away. “So that I don’t get caught stealing the prototype—“

“But the CEO wants people to know the prototype got stolen,” you say. The magic is starting up again, this new narrative forming right before your eyes. You talk a little faster. You need to get out of the center of the story before it solidifies. “Why wouldn’t he just hire the one team to do that? Why the financial records as well? It doesn’t make sense.”

Ralph is silent for a long moment. Then he inhales sharply, body jolting as if waking. “No,” he breathes. “No, it does.”

You nod. “The shareholders are your real boss. They don’t want the stock to go down. They want it to go up. Their real goal is the financial records. The prototype is a trap. A trap for—“

“A trap for me,” Ralph says. He finally looks back at you, his jaw square. There’s the sound of a car engine in the distance. “I see it now. I see everything. From the very beginning, it wasn’t about the company. It wasn’t about the money. It wasn’t even about the CEO. It was about me.”

Oh geez. You watch as Ralph paces to the window. You weren’t going to say that. You were going to claim the prototype theft was a trap for the CEO. That way the shareholders could put someone a little more willing to fudge the books in power. That way Ralph and the CEO would team up against the shareholders and resolve it together. If Ralph thinks this whole ridiculous sequence of events revolves around him…

You purse your lips and stay quiet as Ralph stares out towards the other office building.

“I’m sorry,” Ralph says. He turns and, with the moon backlighting him, he looks very tragic. Like a lone wolf. Or an anti-hero. “Forget everything you know, Fern. I shouldn’t have dragged you or your parents into this.” He closes his eyes briefly. “This is…this next job has to be me. Just me.”

You like the sound of that.

“My parents think you’re dead,” you say. You hold up your hands when he looks tragically back at you. “I don’t know what you realized, but this?” You whistle lowly. “I’m seventeen. I can’t be involved in this.”

“And you won’t be,” Ralph says. He clenches one hand into a fist, shaking it slightly. “After everything I’ve done, I owe your parents that. So long as they think I’m dead, they’ll be safe. All of you will be safe.”

“Great,” you say. A car honks outside. “Be safe, Ralph.” You turn to go.

“You too, Fern,” Ralph says. He laughs a little, seemingly unbothered by your hasty retreat. “It was fun being your uncle.”

You’re almost to the door. The magic is at your back. “Yep. Too bad you’re dead to us now. Off on your lone-wolf crusade. Later.”

“Wait!”

You unwillingly pause at the door. You can feel the story drifting all around you. You don’t turn to look at him. “Yes, Ralph?”

“Your mom,” Ralph says awkwardly. Like the words hurt him. “She… she cried for me, didn’t she?”

Oh, yuck.

“Nope,” you say. “No, she did not.”

“Oh,” Ralph says, nonplussed. “I just thought—“

“Bye, Ralph,” you say and race out the door.

-------

Thanks for reading! I really love this universe and especially Fern!

Next week’s short story is already up on my Patreon (X)! If you’d like to support me and read stories a full week in advance, please check me out there!

Summary: You are caught by a devil in the woods. She wants to talk about deals and you have always been a good listener.

#my writing #second person #narrative town #fern is a badass #omg caiden was left alone #he is not going to be handling that well #lmaooooo

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little-star-bun · 11 months

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⋆｡‧˚ʚ 𝙇𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙥𝙩｡ 𝟮 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

because you all liked the first one so much, i have more for you <;33

warnings: 18+ Lesbian fanfiction!! Men and Minors DNI!! masturbation, low-key stalking, Ellie is a bottom, mentions of drug use;;

enjoy angels ♡♡

I do not own Ellie or anything associated with TLOU.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌𓆩♡𓆪﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✎ ;;

Loser! Ellie is a stoner. She has joint butts littering her car and her room. She smokes after school, before work, after work. Pray for her lungs please.

She wants to smoke with you. She low key fantasizes about getting you high for the first time, to watch your eyes turn red and your lips form around the blunt.

She made a playlist and fills it with songs that remind her of you. She's so stereotypically lesbian it hurts.

She has at least a dozen drawings of you in her journal. Sometimes she'll sit in her car, watching you talk with your friends while she doodles you. Sometimes using your social media as references. But it's so sweet the way she adored every feature of yours :((

Like I mentioned last time, she definitely whimpers and begs. I love top! Ellie, but let's be honest, she's a total bottom. She loves to think of you touching her, eating her wet cunt. She genuinely has so many perverted thoughts of you. She wants you to take control of her, make her do anything to give yourself pleasure. Use her face to masturbate, please.

Not just that, but she watches porn thinking about you. She can't help it, she's just so in love. Loves to rub her needy cunt to videos of girls scissoring and cumming, thinking of how she could try it with you.

One day you had asked her if she finished the homework. You were out and hadn't had time to do it. Poor girl could hardly speak, handing you the answers before you could even finish asking.

Your words had played in her head for three days straight. "You're a life saver, Ellie!"

Later that night you even texted her.

[Thanks again! Seriously, I owe you one.]

She stared at the message, heart racing. Come on Ellie, say something clever!!

[No problem, I'll take you up on that one day!]

Nice.

[You're cute. Goodnight, Ellie.]

She had stared at the conversation for hours. She couldn't believe you had been so grateful to her that you texted.

She was so flustered that of course she had gotten hot and bothered, touching herself through her boxers at the way you called her cute.

Shes a gamer, duh, preferring open world rpg shooters. She's tried every cringe game at least once. Fortnight, World of Warcraft, Valorant. She loves GTA and RDD. Her perfect night is just sitting in her room, smoking a joint, playing on her XBOX. (XBOX is superior idc)

She did get the Sims, making a sim of you and then a sim of her. She made you two have a dog (she didn't even know if you liked dogs). And she makes them woohoo. Alot.

Definitely plays with mods and cc. She has wicked whims and basemental. Loves looking at your Sims tits and making them get high together.

And the drawings I've mentioned before? Half of them, you're half or fully naked. She loves to sketch your boobs, your curves. Makes her mouth water. She has no shame, she masturbates to them when she's done.

Her major is defined the arts. She loves to paint and draw and sculpt. She may not seem like it, but she's such an artistic person. Sometimes you'll see her walking around with clay or paint on her hands. It's honestly adorable :(( Thinks of your body as a work of art fs.

Def shops at Spencer's and Hot Topic. She's so fucking emo and cringe. Reddit user vibes.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌𓆩♡𓆪﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

My requests and asks are open!! I'm so bored, please send some!!

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

#ellie smut #little-star-bun #loser Ellie #Ellie Williams #Ellie Williams is so cute i wish she was real #Tlou Headcanons #Ellie is my girlfriend actually #Lesbian Ellie #Lesbians #Wlw smut

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dovabunny · 6 months

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Angsty Ghostsoap Idea of the day - Here all along

Soap met Simon when the man was on leave. Beautiful, mysterious Simon had walked past Soap's coffee shop a few times, before he mustered the courage to come in.

Meanwhile, thinking the huge man must've been stalking or creeping on one of his pretty female clients, Soap had stomped out to confront the man- only for the man to awkwardly apologize and ask him to dinner. The twist gave Soap such whiplash he...

... said without realizing what was happening.

For three blissful years Simon would come home to him every chance he got, sometimes even just for 3 days between missions.

He told him things he legally was not allowed to, but Soap was his 'home' - a place where he was just Simon, not Ghost or a soldier or a killer or a victim. A man who loved with his whole heart and wanted no secrets between them. Something neither of them had ever had.

They cooked together, Simon talked him into getting a dog named Riley, they made future plans and talked about him retiring.

Then Simon comes home from a bad mission. He was put on medical leave for wounds that were not all physical but refused to talk about what had happened- what had rattled him so. He wasn't himself - cold, blunt, quick to anger, and distant in a way Soap's never seen him in their years together.

Then Simon finds the rings Soap had been hiding.

Simon had been impatiently digging through his art supplies looking for tape when he found the box.

When Soap came home from work it was to Simon sitting in the dark, the box on the table.

His home had never felt as cold as when Simon's voice demanded "what's this."

Soap fucked up, but he wasn't even sure how. He stuttered something about where did he find it when he noticed there was a pile of his sketches too - torn out of his journals, clearly not too gently. All the ones of Simon's face.

"You KNOW why I can't show my face! You KNOW how I feel about this! I refuse to take photos with you so you do this???" He tosses the sketches across the table.

"They're all I have of you when you're gone so long! I didn't-"

"And the rings!? You ALSO know how my parents' marriage went so why the fuck did you think I'd want that? Or did that just not matter either?"

Soap stares, the tension that had been on Simon's shoulders since he arrived a few days ago now turned on him. Soap swallows hard. He had never for even a second felt scared of Soap. But he saw it now... Saw 'Ghost' overtake Simon.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'll burn the sketches and get rid of the rings. I'm sorry, baby. Let's just forget this?" He tries to step forward.

"This was a mistake..." Simon whispers and it feels like a knife to the gut.

"...Si, love, what are you?"

"I said this was a mistake."

Simon gets to his feet and it's then that Soap spots the packed bag. Si throws it over his shoulder as he makes for the door.

"Simon, no! Baby, please - I'm sorry! Please, don't leave like this!" He reaches for him but Si shrugs him off and doesn't slow down.

His world collapses as the door closes behind the man he had given his heart, soul, and future to.

Simon doesn't return his calls or texts. Texts apologizing, begging, texts angry and hurt, texts reminding him he's loved and he has a home here whenever he's ready.

Then the number is disconnected.

Then he gets a letter in the mail that ends with "Our deepest condolences" and a pair of dog tags.

Five years later. Soap has tried to move on, but just couldn't. He still has the rings. Wishes he kept at least one sketch. His shop does well, Riley is getting old, and so is Soap. He keeps busy, and sketches less. Even after all this time when he puts pencil to paper his hand wants to draw Simon.

Then torn, crumpled pages on the floor with boot prints on them flash in his mind and he puts the pencil back down.

This morning he sat in his little kitchen and pages through the local paper when he feels his blood run cold.

Last week's festival was the highlight of the moment, the newspaper covered in photos taken at the event. But in the background of one looms a painfully familiar figure.

Soap grabs his phone and rings the paper. "Photo three, page two- at the fountain - when was that taken?!" The journalist is baffled - all of them last week.

That can't be. It can't be! But he knows that figure, those shoulders, those curls. he's in the shadows but outlined, angled towards where Soap's little trailer stand was.

Soap pulls the dog tags out of his shirt - always around his neck all this time. Is Simon.. alive?

And...near?

Soap looks at the shadows all the way to work, peeking around all day to try to spot a man that shouldn't be there - convincing himself he isn't crazy.

At closing time he had enough. He prints a page and sticks it to the door when he locks up.

"Si, if you're reading this grow a pair and come home."

Later that night there's a knock at the door. A familiar tall man, new scars and silver creeping into blind curls, but just as beautiful as he remembers. Unsteady hands hold a bouquet of his favorite flowers.

"Is this still home?" He asks

"Ours. Always." Soap smiles through the tears.

#simon had a bad mission and had to relive some bad memories #the only way he could get out of the military was Laswell and price letting 'ghost' die so Simon couls retire #but a day hadn't passed that he didnt regret leaving Soap like that #but he still hated himself for dragging soap into his twisted life and putting him at risk just for loving a dangerous man like ghost #he was planning to just lurk and watch over soap #soapghost #ghostsoap #johnny soap mactavish #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish

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