#somehow sitting here with a book in my hand and absolutely nothing going into my dumb head is 100x worse than when I'd cry myself to sleep

[iiping]

kaveh snapping at alhaitham for buying another ugly wood carving… except he forgot it was his birthday 👀

read my short fic on twitter here or see more below! 🫶

—

“This looks absolutely nothing like me!” Kaveh snaps at the rough-out Aranara carving that suddenly shows up one morning, looking so blonde and angry.

Alhaitham comes out of his room at this moment and walks over to their common shelf where the architect stands.

Kaveh has a meeting with a particularly frustrating client today and he’s feeling so anxious that he cannot help but snaps at Alhaitham too, “How many times do I have to tell you not to bring ugly wood carvings into our home!?”

Alhaitham looks at Kaveh, his lips tightens. Something unfathomable flashes across his eyes and disappears just as suddenly.

“Do whatever you want with it then,” Alhaitham says finally after an awkward silence. Then he grabs his key from the shelf and turns his back to walk towards the front door without saying another word.

Kaveh looks at him leaving the house in puzzlement. It is not a rare occasion to see the Scribe not bothering to argue with him but Alhaitham never walks away after saying only one sentence before. He looks as if he’s angry or even…pouting? Kaveh is not sure if that word can describe Alhaitham.

Maybe Kaveh did something wrong? He gasps at the thought.

Is it because the smell of the cream soup he made yesterday was too strong? Or maybe it was the fact that the house is now so messy because he’s in the middle of tidying up things? Or maybe he moved or touched some books he wasn’t supposed to?

Kaveh ends up thinking for the whole day. He even spaces out during the client’s meeting and almost drops the model when he tries to present his plan.

He thinks and thinks but nothing comes to his mind. They have been on unusually pretty good terms lately, so he cannot think of something recent that might have made Alhaitham upset.

Kaveh is so deep in thought he almost bumps into Collei on the way home.

“Ah! Sorry!” Kaveh exclaims then realizes who it is, “Collei! I didn’t know you were in town today!”

Somehow, the trainee Forest Ranger looks shocked to see him. She quickly picks up something that fell to the ground when they bumped into each other earlier. Kaveh catches a glimpse of a small green box with yellow ribbon before Collei swiftly hides it behind her back.

“It’s so good to see you! Wanna grab something to eat?” Kaveh asks, ignoring her suspicious behavior. He’s not ready to go home just yet, not when he still hasn’t figured out what he did wrong.

“Uh, sorry I have somewhere to be today,” Collei replies nervously, avoiding to meeting his eyes, “If you will excuse me, I really need to get going.”

Then she takes off before he can say another word.

Kaveh ruffles his hair in confusion. What is going on today?

After wandering around aimlessly for a while, he decides that he has no other place to go except the good old Lambad’s Tavern.

He sits down at a table and orders a drink even though it’s merely 5PM.

“Hey, Kaveh!” Lambad shouts his name from behind the counter, “That one’s on the house! Happy Birthday!”

Oh. Shit.

A realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

“How could I forget!” he cries, standing up abruptly, “It is my birthday!”

He tells Lambad that he’ll take a raincheck on that glass of wine before leaving the tavern. Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can and finds Alhaitham standing in front of the shelf with the Aranara carving on one hand and a bag on another.

Alhaitham raises his eyebrows when he sees Kaveh practically flying from the front door.

“No, wait—-“ Kaveh tries to catch his breath, “D-don’t throw that away!”

“Oh?” Alhaitham puts down the Aranara and turns to face the architect. “Seems like you finally remember something.”

“Sorry for what I said this morning,” Kaveh blurts out, “I know it sounds like an excuse but that client’s project kept me frustrated all night and I shouldn’t have taken it on you.”

Alhaitham looks at him silently.

“Alright, alright,” Kaveh puts two hands in the air, “I apologize for calling it ugly.”

The Scribe lets out a chuckle right this second. It is clear that he does not intend put up any fights with Kaveh on his birthday.

Alhaitham hands him the Aranara in question and asks, “Will you also stop calling my other wood carvings ugly?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Kaveh replies with a beaming smile. His eyes light up as he takes the wooden figure in his hands.

Alhaitham gives him birthday presents every year but they are usually books or drafting tools. This is the first time Kaveh has received something custom-made. Well, from anyone, really.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning,” he mumbles, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. “Sure, it looks a bit cruder than that one in your bedroom which I kind of like, but the more you look at it, the mor—- Hey!”

“I changed my mind,” Alhaitham announces with a straight face, the Aranara is now back to his hand. “I’m taking it back.”

Kaveh blinks.

“What did you just say!?” he raises his voice.

“I don’t see any reasons why it should be in the possession of someone who doesn’t appreciate it,” he replies simply while putting the wooden figure in the bag, then starts to walk to the entrance hall.

“How do you know I don’t appreciate it!?” Kaveh follows him, trying so hard not to yell at his back, “This is ridiculous! You just gave it to me literally a second ago!”

That does not make Alhaitham slow down one bit. In the heat of the moment, Kaveh charges at him without thinking.

Next thing he knows, they are both on the floor with Alhaitham being beneath him. He quickly snatches the bag from the Scribe’s hand and sits up.

“Ha!” Kaveh exclaims, raising it in the air in victory. “You cannot walk away from me this time! Don’t you know that it’s rude to take back what you have given!?”

When there isn’t any response, Kaveh glances down, only to see that Alhaitham is covering his face laughing.

Kaveh looks at this scene in disbelief.

“Were you just teasing me!?” he asks with a high-pitched voice, “Oh my god, who are you? What have you done to my Alhaitham?”

“I couldn’t help,” he is still laughing, “You should’ve seen your face.”

It’s extremely rare for Kaveh to see a silly side of Alhaitham, let alone seeing him laughing like this. Kaveh stares dazedly at him, completely forgetting why he was mad in the first place.

“You can have the Aranara,” Alhaitham says with a smile, “Will you get off me now? Although I don’t really mind—-”

Kaveh interrupts this sentence with a cough, just realizing what a dangerous position they are in. He shifts to move out of the way, but at this moment, a small piece of paper falls of the bag and lands on Alhaitham’s chest.

The Scribe’s eyes widen as he moves to reach for it, but Kaveh is quicker.

Seeing what’s on there, he is speechless.

Alhaitham covers his face again, but his ears are turning visibly red. The worse thing is, Kaveh can also feel his face burning too.

“You carved this,” he asks softly, “for me?”

After a while, Alhaitham admits with a sigh, “Yes.”

Kaveh is dumbfounded. He assumed that it was merely a commission. Never has he ever thought Alhaitham would go that far to do something like this for him.

“That’s why you’ve been coming home late for the past week!” Kaveh just remembers how unusual it was when he said that he needed to work overtime.

“You knowing this wasn’t part of the plan, I was too careless.” he says flatly and decides to pull himself up, unintentionally getting closer to Kaveh. “Now it’s good time for you to forget you have seen that workshop receipt.”

“Nuh-uh,” Kaveh pokes his chest, “This Aranara is now worth a million mora to me.”

“You have just burdened yourself with a new enormous debt then” Alhaitham teases.

“Hey!”

“I think wood craving has grown on me.” Alhaitham smiles, “So I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with these ugly figurines for now.”

“Come on, they are not that ugly,” Kaveh chuckles, “But we do need to set up a proper corner for them so they don’t disrupt the current aesthetic.”

The Scribe can’t help but roll his eyes at this comment.

“Seriously though, thank you” Kaveh softly touches his shoulder and looks directly into his eyes, “It’s the first time someone did something so special for me. I will always treasure it.”

The Scribe stares back at him and without a warning, Alhaitham pulls him into his arms and whispers to his hair, “Happy Birthday, Kaveh.”

After that, Collei, along with Cyno and Tighnari, burst open their front door right when they are still hugging in the hallway. Kaveh’s face turns as red as a tomato as Alhaitham helps him up on his feet.

The night cannot be more perfect. The house is filled with the smell of good food, laughers and joy. His most favorite dishes are laid out on the table and the gifts are waiting for him to open. Wine never tastes better and even Cyno’s jokes are funnier than usual.

Kaveh watches as everyone starts to eat and cheerfully discuss about what games they are going to play tonight. His heart aches a bit thinking of how much he does not want to ever lose this; his friends, his happiness, his home.

And when his eyes accidentally meet with Alhaitham’s, he cannot help but wonder, would things turn out differently if he hadn’t met the Scribe at the tavern that night where he had taken Kaveh in?

He tries harder now to stay happy, to actually listen to some of Alhaitham’s advice, the sensible ones at least.

“Don’t burden yourself with something unnecessary from the past and from the future”, he would say.

So instead of dwelling on the past regrets and unknown future, Kaveh thinks he is ready now to find comfort in the present happiness.

(END)

#happy birthday kave uwuwuwuwuw #the love of my life #genshin impact #kaveh #myart #alhaitham #kavetham #haikaveh fic #kavetham fic #mywriting #haikaveh #haikavetham #just realized i spelled kaveh wrong in the first tag like wat

[kaciebello]

Band-aids of death

Masterlist

Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem)

Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic)

Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten

Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n

author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :(

word count: 1347

Percy has been in at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seems like he's good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.

Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway. After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.

Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. however, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.

They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.

Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.

“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own. “ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.

A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw. “ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 

“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues, “Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”

“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is. “ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders. “ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”

“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”

“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen. “ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 

“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids. “ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 

“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl. “ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.

“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks. “ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 

“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.” “ Australia?” “No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 

“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him. “You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,

 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.

“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.

He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.

#luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy pjo #percy series

[scudslut]

A New Years Surprise 🎀

daryl x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, poorly written smut, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected p in v, porn with some plot lol

a/n: i know i’m a little late but happy new years everyone!:) thought i’d start off on the right foot this year with some Daryl lovin<3 also don’t mind my writing i’m just getting back into it so i’m a bit rusty:/

“God, you’re such a dumbass,” you muttered to yourself, cringing at the reflection staring back at you.

Currently, you were a mess.

Tonight was Alexandria’s supposed ‘New Years Eve’ celebration, like we actually had anything to celebrate or look forward to.

There were always those few people you’d come across over the years, that had somehow managed to keep track of the time passed and as it turns out, Alexandria’s people were very serious when it came to sticking to the old worlds holidays and traditions.

Hell, they’d host parties and backyard shindigs on a regular bases, no prompt needed.

It was bizarre, and even after a full year living here, you still weren’t used to it.

Deep down, a small sliver of you agreed that it was something special about this place. That it somehow kept the hopeful humanity glimmering inside the residents. But the larger, much more sceptical side of you, couldn’t help but notice the flaws of the idea and the dangers of false hope.

Or maybe it was just because you looked fucking ridiculous trying to play dress up.

Either way, you hated the celebrations.

This one in particular though, caught you off guard.

You hadn’t payed much attention to New Years before the world ended, and just assumed that would be the same now; but when you caught wind of the party, you felt your stomach bubble in excitement.

And for one reason only.

Daryl.

You knew Daryl was an absolute sucker for dainty dresses and lingerie and you hadn’t ever gotten the chance to wear something like that for him. But a few days prior, you had stumbled across a small shopping mall on run and found this adorable matching light pink set and had to stuff it away in case the opportunity to surprise him presented itself.

Well, here it was.

And man was that excitement rapidly turning into a full blown panic attack.

Running your fingers through your hair haphazardly, you studied your appearance in the mirror.

You’d only so far put on the lingerie and a small black skirt and you already felt confined and self conscious. The straps weren’t sitting right, the cups of your bra were too big, causing weird awkward gaps.

Sighing, you close your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands.

This was just awful.

You could already hear the beginnings of the party going, music and laughter flowing in through your slightly cracked window and it only caused you to sink further into yourself.

You felt your mind slip into your self deprecating thoughts as you began to tune out the world around you, missing the soft creaks of footsteps on the wooden floored hallway.

The door of your shared room was wide open, as it was only the two of you that occupied the small house.

Daryl took you in for a moment, leaning against the doorframe observing your defeated aura silently.

He immediately knew what was bothering you, he could read you like a book at this point. He crept up behind you, gently touching your shoulder as to not frighten you from your thoughts.

Jumping slightly, your eyes flew open and landed on those deep familiar blue ones you adored, staring back at you through the mirror.

His natural scent caught your nose and your body subconsciously began to ease, slumping back into his chest.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you home so early,” you whisper to him as you notice his eyes drift down your body.

You wrap your arms around yourself, not wanting him to see your failed attempt at a surprise and be disappointed.

You should have known he’d be quicker than you.

“Not so fast, baby,” he says, catching your arms before they can fully shield your torso from him and twisted you around to face him.

“It’s nothing, really Daryl, I-I don’t even know what I was thinking,” you mumble feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

That’s when you notice the dark, lustful glimmer in his eyes and awed expression clear as day on his features.

Oh. He likes it.

Heat pooled in your stomach.

Daryl bunches the fabric of your dainty skirt in his hand contemplatively, drawing it up ever so slowly and tucking it into the waist band to keep you exposed.

You could feel his eyes wander your skin, like soft breathy kisses, from finger tips to the dip of your collar bones.

Your breathe catches as you feel the faintest pressure on your dripping cunt.

“This all fer me?” He whispers, slowly sliding his middle finger from the wet patch on your panties to the tiny pink bow at the hem.

He finger dips into the waist when he doesn’t hear your response, and snaps it back against your skin.

“Y-yes Dar,” you gasp.

Of course it was for him, you were his and he damn well knew that, but he simply couldn’t help himself from asking time to time.

He continued to toy with the bow thoughtfully, letting his finger tips graze over the sensitive skin there. Over your hip bones, stomach, and down to your inner thighs, never allowing too much pressure so it felt like soft tickles.

He enjoyed to watch you pant and writhe. Liked the way your skin would erupt in goosebumps every place he touched.

He was a hunter after all.

He could spend hours playing with every detail of you, work you up until you have tears welling in your eyes and your cunt was practically pulsing.

Though you’d beg and plead for him to stop, to give you what you need, he knew you loved it.

And so did he.

Daryl Dixon was a tease.

“Wanted to surprise you after the party,” you manage to squeak out and his gaze finally meets yours.

“Did ya now?” he mocks, walking you backwards till the back of your knees hit the bed and you take a seat at the edge. He looms over you, thumb grazing your bottom lip and you simply nod back at him.

“Well, ya can be certain there ain’t gonna be no party anymore,” he growls, staring you down like you had offended him somehow.

He harshly grips your hips, pulling them till your ass was practically hanging off the edge and drops down to his knees before you, spreading your legs to make room for himself.

All you can do is watch him, mouth parted open as he manhandles you however he pleases.

“And where did ya find somethin’ so pretty, hm?” he questions gruffly, once again rubbing his thumb over the wet patch forming on your panties.

You lean back on your arms, dropping your chin to watch his movements.

“I-uh, on a run the other day,” you huff, your words stuttering in excitement and anticipation.

Daryl only hums in response, as he dips his fingers and pulls them to the side, exposing you fully to him.

He barely gives you a second to register his actions before he’s dropping his head between your thighs, licking a long strip across your soaked cunt.

Your body jolts in surprised pleasure, your right hand flying to grip his soft brown locks as he laps at your clit.

Moaning loudly, your hips rock into him as he continues to lick and suck, lost in the taste of you.

“Oh god,” you whimper. Your arms are shaking behind you, ready to give out any second as you watch Daryl devour you like you were his last meal on earth.

He always looked so damn pretty, eyes closed and entrapped between your thighs.

He lifts his head, groaning at the sight of you and begins trailing kisses over your hips and down your inner thighs.

“Sweet girl,” he mumbles between kisses, “always thinkin’ bout me, huh?”

Your eyes roll back as you sink to your elbows, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“Asked you a question, baby,” he nips at your skin causing a soft sting.

“Always Dar,” you pant, rolling your hips into him again. Your body was pulsing with lust and Daryl could sense how needy you were for him, like it had been weeks without his touch and honestly, it felt like that for him too.

He was about ready to cum in his jeans at the sight of you alone. Legs spread for him, pupils blown wide while you panted and moaned noisily just for him to hear.

Trailing his lips back up, he grips your waist stilling your movements, “What do ya need from me, hm?”

Your mind blanks for a moment, surprised by his uncharacteristic generosity. He was never this quick to give you what you need, always wanting to drag your pleasure for miles and miles until each pretty sound you could possibly make filled his ears.

“Come on now, or do you want me to decide for ya?” he asks again and you quickly shake your head, grabbing him by the shoulders and scooting back until you both were at the top of the bed.

As he lands above you, arms on each side of your head, you finally feel him and how hard he already was.

Rocking into him suggestively, “You know what I need,” you whisper.

Daryl groans from the friction, dropping his head to your shoulder and rutting into you further, chasing your movements.

You hadn’t seen him this worked up and responsive in a long time, and god were you loving it.

You pull his head up to face you and crash your lips onto his, hands finding his belt trying to discard him of it as fast as you possibly can. Daryl’s a panting mess above you, “Baby are you tryna kill me?” he groans when he feels your hands brush against his cock as you attempt to rid him of his jeans.

All you can do is whimper into his mouth as you struggle, and he kicks them down and off the bed.

He grabs you hands and pulls them above you, pinning them down as he begins to attack your neck with bites and kisses.

“Please Dar,” you whine, “need you now.”

“I know baby, I know,” he coos, attempting to soothe you as he draws your skirt and panties down your legs.

You begin tearing at his vest, needing to feel him closer to you, as close as he could possibly get. You feel him chuckle against you, “So eager for me, are ya?” as he lines himself up with your aching core, teasing you even more.

Taking him by surprise, you crush his hips into yours, filling yourself to the hilt all at once. You gasp from from the mixture of pain and pleasure, as Daryl all but whines into your mouth.

“Oh shit, fuck me,” he groans as he begins to slam into you at a bruising pace. You claw at his shoulders, rocking your hips to match his fast movements.

“Just love this cock, don’t ya?” he grunts, lifting one of your legs around his waist to drive into you even deeper.

You felt your brain cloud over, unable to think about anything other than him, drunker on his cock than you’d been from any night of drinking you’d partaken to in the past.

“Don’t go dumb on me now, darling. What did I ask ya?” he repeats, slowing his hips to sensual rolls, so it only stroked that cord in your stomach but kept it from building any further.

“God yes,” you moan, matching his slow but absolutely delicious pace.

Daryl is a groaning mess in your ears as your bodies dance a synchronized rhythm together, moulding into each other like pieces of a puzzle.

His hand snakes between you two, finding your clit easily and he begins to stroke you gently, allowing the fire in your abdomen to build rapidly.

“Oh Dar,” you moan and Daryl only picks up the pace, chasing after his own high to experience with you. Your clutching to him for dear life as he pounds into you quickly, grunting and groaning quiet praises about how good you feel.

You can tell he’s close when his hips start to stutter and shake, losing his rhythm slightly and you finally feel the cord break.

Your body floods with ecstasy, cunt pulsing around him causing his high to come crashing over him with you. Waves of pleasure wash over you as you both come down, his hips slowing to a stop.

He rests his forehead down to yours while the both of you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Daryl start to chuckle against you and your eyes lazily drift open, “What?” you mumble, running your fingers slowly down his back.

“Never was a big fan of surprises before, but ya can bet your ass I am now.”

#daryl dixon #daryl imagines #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #the walking dead #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon smut #twd smut #twd drabbles #daryl x reader

[gardnhee]

bite me - P.SH

♰ warnings. blood sucking, cursing, very suggestive, vampire sunghoon (yum), yn is obsessed with his fangs, sunghoon gets realllll whiney later on, use of “doll”, reader is lwk weird, intentional lower case, switch!reader, switch!sunghoon- lmk if i missed anything !

♰ vampire!sunghoon x afab!reader

♰ song rec. bite me - enhypen

♰ wc. 3.1k

the soft patter of rain on your window makes you sigh as you sit in bed, skillfully reading a book. with a soft smile, you flip the page, snuggling into the blankets as your back rests against the headboard.

you eye the moon, a cool contrast to the dim light emanating from your lamp. with a low hum, you close the book, setting it on your nightstand as you yawn.

you stretch and groan, eyes snapping to the door after hearing a faint thump outside.

what the fuck?

in a matter of seconds, you’re standing in front of said door, shaky hand hovering over the knob. you jerk back after a louder thud echoes throughout your apartment. frantically looking around, you scramble to grab something. anything.

you somehow end up with scissors, eyebrows knitting together as you stare at the sharp object; this will do, you shrug in acceptance. another sound abruptly stops your train of thought, determined eyes now glaring at the door. in a swift motion, you swing it open, scanning the cozy apartment.

are those…scratching sounds?

you try to adjust to the darkness as you walk through your living room, fingers wrapped tightly around the scissor handle, metal tip facing up.

you realized that the more you walked, the more anxious you became, so you opted to close your eyes and stand still, pin-pointing exactly where the sound was coming from, something the shuffling of your slippers wouldn’t allow before.

you open your eye, slowly opening the other as you turn to the balcony, tip-toeing to the door. “so this is where the scratching is coming from?” you mutter, depositing the scissors on the table to your right. you slide your index finger and thumb through the blinds, only to be met with…nothing. there was absolutely nothing outside.

you tsk, annoyed now that you realize you left your comfort for no fundamental reason. before you could make your way back to the bedroom, faint scratching caught your attention again, making you stop dead in your tracks.

you muster up the courage, huffing as you finally open the balcony door, cold wind smacking you in the face. you continue to glance along the floor, eyes widening when you make eye contact with…a bat. a fucking bat.

its fur was jet black, wings neatly tucked into its body as it seemed to be shaking, blinking up at you so innocently. you weren’t exactly scared, in fact, you thought it was cute. you tilt your head down at it, smiling softly.

“what’re you doin’ out here in the cold? you’re so cute!” you kneel down, falling back as black smoke engulfs the small mammal.

“what the-?”

are those … shoes? pants?

where did the bat go?- “oh my god!” you scream, reaching for the door with urgency and slamming it shut, taking several steps back as you bump against the counter.

that…that was a man. a man standing in your balcony. “holy hell..” you breathed, one hand on your chest and the other tangled in your hair. if you weren’t afraid before, you definitely are now.

“excuse me?” a deep voice rang in your ears, making you flinch, hand flying up to your mouth.

“please let me in…it’s cold.”

“who - what - the hell…are you!” you exclaim, staring at the tall silhouette that reflected against your blinds, gulping as cold sweat made its way down your forehead.

“my name is park sunghoon. now please let me in, i’m freezing.”

“no, go away!”

“just…for tonight. i promise i won't hurt you.” the voice on the other end implored. you saw as he rubbed his arms, possibly to get rid of the chills. you weighed your options, biting your lip as you fidget with the hem of your shirt.

“i don’t know i…” you felt bad, yet letting a random man into your house was against everything you believed in.

you sighed in disbelief, walking over to the door and cracking it open. you nearly gasped; he was handsome. very, very, handsome. you couldn’t fathom it.

sunghoon cleared his throat, his deep red eyes staring you down. “may i come in?” he rumbles in a low, drool-inducing tone.

“i…yes, of course, come in. sorry-!” you stumble over your words, chuckling in both hesitance and nervousness.

you move aside, inviting him in with a warm smile, one that wasn’t reciprocated - let alone acknowledged. you squint skeptically, locking the door to prevent the cold breeze from fully storming your apartment.

“there’s no point in being skeptical now, i’m already in your house.” he says matter of factly, studying his surroundings with his hands behind his back.

your eyes widened.

what?

sunghoon chuckled, “hey, calm down. i promised i wouldn’t hurt you, didn't i?” he says, finally turning to you.

“i intend to keep my promise.”

you gulp, smiling awkwardly as you nod. he grabs the corners of his collar, looking at you before continuing, “may i get comfortable?” once again, you nod, standing there like a statue, lips pursed.

sunghoon takes off his suit, hanging it on a nearby coat hanger you had conveniently placed in a corner.

“why are you here? i mean…why my apartment?” you blurt, taking the stoic individual aback.

“well, i was flying-“ his eyes travel to you as you give him a blank stare, registering what’s currently unfolding before you.

“you’re a fucking-!” realization crashed into you like a wave.

“vampire. yes.” sunghoon nods, untying his corset, or at least attempting to.

you peer at him, long nails struggling against the knots as he grunts, another prominent lump forming in your throat.

“anyway, i was flying and as you can see…” he juts his chin towards your living room window, emphasizing his point, “the storm knocked me into your balcony.” you nod, letting him know you’re listening.

“and so i thought, ‘hey, why not wait till the rain dies down?’” sunghoon nods to himself, “sorry if i’ve bothered you.” he sheepishly chuckles, bowing momentarily.

“no no! it’s no problem really!…” you wave your hands in a frenzy, shaking your head violently as you beam.

fuck handsome, this man is absolutely mouthwatering. fangs poking into plush lips, charcoal black hair a stark contrast to his pale skin, illuminating under the moonlit night.

“excuse me?”

“yes! sorry.” you focus back on his face.

sunghoon smiles, “you mind?” he walks to you, back now facing your astonished face.

“sure but…” you took a sly look over his shoulder, staring at the side of his face. he raised a brow, head tilting slightly, “never untied a corset before?” you bite your lip, gazing down at the corset.

“it’s okay, i’ll show you.” sunghoon grabs your hands with his cold ones, making you yelp.

“sorry, can’t really help it…”

“it’s okay. no worries.” you gape at his back muscles, the way they move under his white clad shirt…if only you could just take a bite-

“so then you loop your fingers through this part right here,” instructed sunghoon, tapping the knot; you obediently followed his orders. “good, good. now, simultaneously keep doing that until the corset comes loose,” he pauses, standing straight, “you might have to pull a little, okay?” you utter a small ‘yes,’ concentration written all over your face.

“thank you.” corset now in his hand, he moves with it to your living room, placing it on the sofa as he grazes the soft fabric.

“that’s a sofa.” you inform as you see your way to him.

“i know.” sunghoon sighs, “i was human before becoming a vampire, you know?” he peeks at you, picking up on your engrossed look.

“i was bitten,” he sits, “unfortunately.”

“‘unfortunately’?” you echo, sitting beside him, “why is that?” your gaze softens, holding his fiery eyes.

“eternal youth, immortality…none of that is always good. i mean, i have to drink human blood in order to live.” sunghoon plops back into the soft cushion, hair messy from all the moving around.

“that doesn’t sound too bad, though.”

he smiles, “you don’t know half of it.”

you shrug, sitting back. “how old are you?” you ask as sunghoon’s eyes are glued to the ceiling, hand softly caressing his forehead.

“let’s see…” he whispers, counting with his slim fingers. “200…400…430 years old.” you choke, back straightening as the words processed in your mind.

“FOUR HUNDRED AND THIRTY FUCKING YEARS?!”

sunghoon bursts out laughing, “are you always cursing?” you blush, embarrassed at your sudden outburst.

“you should go to bed…” he dips his head to the side, regarding you in a quizzical manner; an unspoken question.

“yn.” you snicker, “yn ln.”

he bobs his head, “yn ln.” he repeats, sultry tone almost luring you to sleep.

“if you can’t sleep, there’s the tv!” you point to a little coffee table, “the remote is right there.” sunghoon nods, giving you a small smile before you walked off to your room.

you basically jump on your bed, quickly getting under the covers as you stare outside the window. you turn off the lamp, sighing as you close your eyes.

⋆♱✮♱⋆

the room was pitch black, a sliver of light peeked through the curtains. you frowned, you don’t remember drawing the curtains?

you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as your ears perk up. “what is up with these sounds tonight?” you murmur, groggily making your way to the door.

the sofa was empty and you couldn’t see much, but you could definitely hear, and what you heard made you cringe.

a series of slurps and munching sounds invaded your surroundings. you sniffed, blood? perhaps meat? an exasperated gasp clawed its way out of your throat once it dawned on you.

“s-sunghoon?”

the slurping stops, so do you. the only thing obstructing your view was the kitchen counter, and honestly, you wish you’d never have to peer over it.

the pungent smell of blood made you dizzy. your hand gripped the hard surface, stomach churning in a way that’s physically impossible to ignore.

“yn?” his voice was ragged, breathless as his glistening chest heaved. the once impeccably white shirt was now stained, deep red streaks scattered throughout, greedily seeping into every piece of fabric it reached.

“what are you…?” you whisper, eyes wide as you step back. the anxious vampire was no longer coy, displaying a look of worry on his bloody face.

“i’m sorry i…” sunghoon huffed, attempting to wipe his hands on his pants, “i got hungry and i didn’t want to hurt you so i settled on animal blood..” you notice his fangs. maybe it was the dim light, or lack thereof, playing tricks on you, but they look…longer? sharper? you couldn’t quite tell, yet it…piqued your interest.

“is that blood enough?”

sunghoon shrugs, “if i drink enough, maybe i’ll be satisfied.” you tilt your head in utter fascination

“‘maybe’? don’t you want to…” you reveal more of your neck, his eyes flickered.

“no i…are you sure?”

you nodded, body speaking before your brain can string a full sentence together. your emotions changed almost immediately, you weren’t terrified, you were…aroused. you’ve always had a sick obsession with sharp objects…but this… you needed to feel them sink into your skin immediately.

you watched as his eyes glowed, tongue darting out to wet his lips. impatient as you were, you grabbed his red hands, pulling his slim figure to you.

“why?” he asks, eyeing your neck, specifically a vein. so juicy…you smelled so good…fuck.

“i want to feel them…” you brazenly admit. sunghoon blinks, blood now dripping from his chin and onto his exposed chest.

“you’re at risk of turning…”

“that’s okay.”

“yn you don’t know what-“

“just…do it.” you strain, “i’m helping you.” you tuck your hair away from your neck, giving the hesitant vampire enough access.

what are you doing?? you have no idea. this might be the last night of your life as human, but honestly… that doesn’t sound like a problem….at least to you.

sunghoon nods, gulping as he moves his mouth closer, opening as wide as he can. you nearly fall back, screaming at the pain that flourished from your neck. he wraps his arms around your waist, eliminating the gap between your bodies.

his eyes close in ecstasy, brows scrunched as your sweet blood made contact with his tongue. sunghoon whines, making incoherent sounds as he squeezes you. he’s so…touchy…you’d never expect this from him.

“fuck…sunghoon…” you wince, balling a part of his shirt into your fists, “fuck!” if it weren’t for his strong arms, you’d be on the ground by now. you feel his hands snake down your body, surprising you as he hooks them under your thighs, sitting you on one of the seats under the counter.

his fangs were still penetrating your fragile skin, you started to feel lightheaded, losing consciousness by the second. before you knew it, everything went black, only the sting that is now faintly there and the scattered blue dots that resided behind your eyelids remain.

⋆♱✮♱⋆

“yn…wake up.” your eyes snap open, a sharp breath escaping your lips. you look around in a hurry, not noticing the man before you.

you run to the bathroom, flicking the light on as you stare at your neck in the mirror. “huh?” there’s a patch covering what you assumed were two red dots. bite marks...what did you get yourself into? you flinch as sunghoon appears behind you.

“holy shit. how did you-!“ you yell, turning your body to face him.

“teleportation?” he states, raising a brow at you, “it’s common knowledge…i mean, you would know…” sunghoon sing-sings as he pulls out a book.

the book that was on your nightstand…he has it in his hand.

“what the hell! give it back!”

“let’s see…’he caressed my back as his teeth slowly sink into my skin’…” you try to reach for the book, to no avail as he’s - by far - much taller than you, “is this why you offered to-?” he questions with amusement.

“no!!!!” you cross your arms, “i felt bad because you looked starved.” he answers with a stretched ‘mmmhm,’ squinting his eyes as if he can see right through you.

you walk out, sunghoon following suit. “does it still hurt?” he questions, situating the book down and walking back to you. his pale fingers come up to softly brush the patch, a red dot soaking through the fabric. “no, i can’t feel it actually…” his eyes shoot up, distress oozing from them.

“what?” sunghoon hastily takes off the patch, eyes hysterically looking for something. “open your mouth.” you grimace, confusion striking your features as you comply. he feels around your top and bottom teeth, you protest as his digits feel cold in your mouth. “fuat iz it?” you manage, capturing his wrists.

“your fangs are growing in.” sunghoon steps back, wiping the excess saliva on his pants. he sits on the bed, “you’re turning into a vampire, yn.” you gleam, catching him off guard. “most people would be on the floor crying…” he announces, more to himself than to you.

“let me see your wrist.” he flips your palm upward. there was a mark. a small cross.

“what’s that?”

“‘what’s that’? isn’t this in your vampire books?”

you pout, snatching your wrist away from his grip. “you’re not funny.”

“i think i'm hilarious.” he retorts. with a scoff, you sit next to him, the soft surface denting a little more.

“it’s a marking.”

“a marking?”

“like how werewolves mark their mate…or how incubi choose their wives and make them succubi, it’s a similar process without the sex part.”

“i’m your mate?!” he nods, “in other words, you’re my wife.” you jump, unable to wrap your head around his words.

“how does that… happen?”

sunghoon stands and steps in front of you, “usually happens when there’s an attraction between a vampire and human.” he smirks at you, “you enjoyed it, didn��t you?” he taunts, making you quiver to your very core.

he continues, “i’m going to assume yes considering all those smutty books you read about vampires.” he taps his chin playfully, “didn’t know you were so fascinated with my kind.” sunghoon audibly laughs as you slap his arm.

“do you want me to lie…?” you embarrassingly turn your head, eyes sparkling.

he shakes his head, “no, no. i want you to say it to my face.” sunghoon gently grabs your chin, bending down to be at eye level with you.

“you’re attracted to me, aren’t you?” he places his hands on your lap as you nod, sunghoon smiles.

“to be frank i…i took a liking to you the moment you let me step foot in here.” he stares at you, “i tried my hardest not to acknowledge you at first, but it just…i couldn’t. i was - am - drawn to you…” you blink, cheeks heating up and heart hammering against your chest.

“you’re just so…” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, basking in your beauty. “so utterly beautiful…” you grab his collar, smashing your lips into his. sunghoon whines in surprise, moaning when you straddle him. “you’re…you’re sitting on it…be careful” he bites his lips, pouting as you smirk, planting yourself harder on his semi hard cock.

“you just met me, and you’re already hard for me?” your smirk grows wider, and you bend down to kiss him once again. his hands fly to your hips, stifling your surprised whimper.

“that’s rich coming from someone who gets aroused by my fangs being in their neck.” sunghoon says as you pull away, leaving you open-mouthed.

“you didn’t think i could smell it? i’m a vampire, doll.” you shriek at the pet name, his divine hand cupping your now sopping cunt. “you’re so wet i can feel it through these skimpy ass shorts.”

he smirks up at you, “not so bold now, huh?”

“i-“

“shut the fuck up.” he growls, turning you over so that now he’s on top of you, “do you know how hard i’ve been trying to restrict myself? it’s so hard when you’re such a slut, wearing pajamas that leave little to the imagination.” he grabs the waistband of your shorts, letting it slap against your skin as you moan, growing even more impatient. sunghoon’s voice grew husky, lips glistening and angry red from all the making out.

his hair is disheveled, shirt hanging loosely around his shoulders. you grab his nape, moving to his neck. leaving a trail of wet kisses, he moans lowly. you harshly suck and bite his collarbone, enticing a small ‘ah’ from sunghoon.

you place your mouth by his ear, warm breath hitting his lobe as he shudders. “you say i’m a whore? fine. i’m going to fuck you until you can’t talk anymore. until the only thing on your mind is my pussy wrapping around your dick.”

sunghoon nods, “yes baby, please.” his eyes filled with desire, leaving any and all trace of critical thinking behind. with each touch and whimper, the tension builds until the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your shared passion, fulfilling every promise of pleasure made in the heat of the moment.

© GARDNHEE 2024, do not copy, modify, or upload on other platforms

♰ note. i love cockblocking yall :3 i promise a full smut fic is on the way!! also please like, comment, n reblog!! would be highly appreciated 🫶🫶

♰ huge thanks to my proofreader @heartryuu , i love you bae 🤍🤍.

♰ taglist. @lovlyrickyyy @strawbvrrie @stvrliighttt (lmk if u want to be added!)

#𖦹°‧★ gardnhee #my fic #female reader #enhypen #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #enha #enha x reader #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon enha #park sunghoon enhypen #park sunghoon enha #enha imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon imagines #vampire #vampire fangs #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #sunghoon x female reader #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x you #park sunghoon x y/n #yn #idol x reader

[moonstruck-poet]

Next Thing You Know

Pairing - Ben Barnes x reader!

Summary - a fic taking us through the journey of your wonderful relationship with Ben Barnes.

Warnings - none

You swear that you're stayin' single next thing you know. You meet a girl at a bar and next thing you know. You get her laughin', it's 2 AM. You're tellin' your buddies three months in.

"Why do you always want to drag me to places I don't wanna go?" Ben frowns at his brother who just grins cheekily and doesn't let go of the firm hold of his hand.

"You need to loosen up a little brother," Jack says simply and they get into his car, him obviously being the one driving. "Even Mum and Dad think you're a bit too tense these days for God's sake!"

Ben rolled his eyes and turned on the radio, immediately smiling at his favorite Bob Dylan song that had just started. He had planned to just lay down in bed and peacefully read, something he hadn't done in ages.

But unfortunately that's not what 26 year olds normally did, which was very sad indeed. A nice little reading session with soft romantic tunes playing in the background was suddenly considered old-fashioned.

"Here we are!" Jack exclaimed cheerfully and they got out, him throwing an arm around his brother who merely chuckled and together they entered the rather crowded club.

"This is intense," Ben murmured after scanning the place. What with its loud, blaring music, dim but flashing lights and an over-excited crowd, it seemed a bit intimidating.

"Its just been way too song since you've been in a club," Jack retorted but then his face turned into one of glee after spotting his best mates who waved frantically.

"Not even been 10 minutes and already ditching me huh?"

"I'm so sorry," he said apologetically but smiled when Ben laughed.

"It's all good, go on hang out with them".

"You'll be okay by yourself right?"

"Of course, I'm not 10!"

"See ya then," saying so Jack bid him goodbye and Ben watched as he left before seating himself near the bar, ordering a light drink just to keep him warm and fuzzy.

"Thank you," he smiled at the bartender who bowed and brought the glass to his lips, the liquid barely grazing them before something- or rather someone, took his entire attention.

There you were, walking right towards him. His eyes gazed at the young woman who looked too beautiful even dressed in simple clothes like black ripped jeans paired with a leather jacket. Your raven hair that was tied into a half-ponytail simply added to the look.

She was exquisite, he remembered thinking.

He blinked, snapping out of his trance when the said woman was seated right beside him, looking positively bored and somehow a little out of place, even with her appropriate clothes.

He suddenly felt like a very shy teenager and focussed instead on his drink, whilst looking at you from the corner of his eyes. His cheeks went warm when you finally seemed to notice the rather handsome man sitting next you.

He saw your eyes widen and your mouth open a little, and he felt confused. Was something wrong with his face?

But then the reason for your staring became clear when you made a statement.

"Um hello, you're Ben Barnes aren't you?" You said softly and he was enraptured by your smooth voice that was slightly deep for a girl.

"Oh yeah, yes I'm him," he said quickly and gave you a blinding smile that you reciprocated with immense happiness and he felt a giddiness in his chest that had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with the drink that had now gone totally unnoticed.

"You played Prince Caspian," you grinned and he nodded, so excited that you had seen the movie.

"Did you like the movie?"

"It was brilliant," you said, your dark eyes appearing starry due to the lights. "I love the books and the movies just gave me a face for the characters that I so love".

"I take you as a reader then?" He asked with some eagerness.

"Oh absolutely! I honestly was going to spend this evening in my cosy bed reading a great romance book than coming here. But well my friends are quite persuasive".

He was over the moon at finding a common factor between you two. "I was going to do the same! But my brother dragged me in here, said that I needed to loosen up," he mimicked Jack making you laugh.

"Sometimes all you need to loosen up are some beautiful books and good music," you said, the two things were very close to your heart and Ben understood instantly.

"I agree," he smiled and you smiled too. Glad to find another person who had interests very similar to your own, and that too in a time when everybody was intent on partying the night away.

"Would it be okay if we geek over some books maybe outside?" Ben asked and mentally facepalmed. God he couldn't even talk properly to a girl.

"Yeah I'd like some quiet, it's really noisy in here," your eyebrows furrowed and you walked down, drinks in both of your hands as you sat down on a bench.

The rest of the night was spent talking and talking and talking. Ben didn't think he had ever talked this much before, much less to a girl but here he was, and here you were.

It just seemed so easy and he had this strange, warm feeling in his heart that he knew exactly what it was.

"What's your favorite quote from a book?" He asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

You were stumped, you had read hundreds of books and it was as if suddenly you had read none. "Good question, Ben".

His heart fluttered and red stained his cheeks, though thankfully for him you couldn't see it because of the dark.

And abruptly there was this gentle, loving smile on your face and all Ben wished in that moment was for him to be the cause.

"In vain have I struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you," you whispered the words.

And he smiled, looking down before meeting your eyes, each one's irises as dark as the night sky. "Austen hmm?" He said softly, loving the way your smile widened.

The man was already on the brink of falling head over heels and couldn't wait for this to get further. It was as if he seemed to know, like maybe an instinct or a feeling, whatever it was, it just made him gravitate towards you.

And lucky for him, you felt the same. Albeit it took you time than him, you were too on the edge of loving this man from the entirety of your heart.

===============================

That she ain't moving in, the next thing you know. There's a U-haul trailer, next thing you know. Your old apartment is y'all's new place. There goes the carpet but the deer head stays.

"How much stuff do you even have?" Ben questioned indignantly as you carried boxes after boxes up the elevator. "You do know that we have a well furnished home right?"

You rolled your eyes, sweat dripping down your face and down your neck as you strained under the weight of a particularly heavy one. "Hush Barnes, I'm still shifting in your apartment aren't I?"

He simply shook his head with a smile and dropped two boxes on the floor with a loud thump, grimacing at the sound and praying hard that there wasn't anything breakable.

"You seriously need to do some downsizing, love," he muttered, slumping down on the sofa with a sigh.

You frowned but knew he was right. You had way too much stuff and you doubted that all of it was absolutely necessary. "Yeah I'll do that when setting everything up".

"And god what is the meaning of this Benjamin?" You shrieked when your gaze fell on the carpet underneath the centre table.

"What?!" He grumbled, reluctantly opening his eyes to see what made you react like that. "Oh that".

"Yes that".

"Uhm I was gonna replace it-"

"He's been saying that for the past year dear, I've forgotten the amount of times I had to tell him to change that wretched thing," his mum's voice interrupted and she stepped inside, followed by her husband.

Your eyes narrowed at your boyfriend who cringed under the stares of two women whom he loved dearly.

"Cat got your tongue, Barnes?" Thomas, his father grinned amd stepped in front of his son. Clearly enjoying the predicament.

"I swear I was going to change it," he mumbled and then gave you his best puppy dog eyes.

"Don't you look at her like that young man!" Tricia Barnes pointed ger finger which immediately shut his attempts at wooing you.

You pressed your lips tightly to prevent a snort at his downcast expression. "You gotta listen to your mum, Ben".

"I'm glad at least someone sensible agrees with me," she shot a playful look at the two men and smiled lovingly at you. "You got everything up, darling?"

"Yeah! I'll start unpacking after I make us some lunch," you smiled and the woman simply beamed while your boyfriend watched in disbelief as you laughed together.

"That's always how it is, lad," Thomas said with a glint in his eyes and Ben couldn't help as he chuckled. "But that is also how you know that you've got a good one".

He let out a genuine smile at that and let his eyes linger on your figure as you laughed with his mum while making lunch. You were the best decision he'd ever made, and the best instinct he'd ever felt.

"My god you're having it bad aren't you?" His dad cackled loudly earning strange but pleased looks from the two women.

While Ben's cheeks went red, "Yeah.. I guess I am having it down real bad".

"She is a wonderful girl, and I'm sure she's going to take good care of you, buddy. And in return make sure you never deny her the simple pleasures of life. Most people think women are extremely complex creatures, but that's definitely not the case, you know?"

Ben turned around completely to face his father and that's when Thomas knew that his son was falling in love. And a small smile graced his face because what else would a father want for his gentleman of a son?

"They don't want you to spend hundred dollars on a bouquet of flowers, they'll be happier with a single rose plucked from a field on any random day. When girls say they like sweet messages, it doesn't mean that you should write a five pages long essay about the reasons why you love her. It simply means a good morning when you're not together, a basic did you eat yet or a small text saying how proud you are of her".

Ben nodded eagerly and enthusiastically, he had already unconsciously done all of these things and was glad to know that he was going on the right track. He had never really understood the significance behind his actions, but now he did.

"What're you two gossiping about?" Tricia asked and sat down between them, glancing at them both.

"Just giving our boy some relationship advice," Thomas said and winked at his son.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Well heavens only know what all you said to him. But I'm sure it was priceless," she said with a small smile while looking at Ben who nodded.

"Just remember sweetheart that anybody can buy luxurious gifts for their woman. But the truly romantic things are those little things you do everyday to show that you care and think about them," she patted his cheek.

"Yes mum," he agreed with every single word his parents are told him. He was really blessed to have such wonderful parents.

"Here's the lunch!" You finally entered the living room and set down two containers filled with delicious gravy and meat.

"Hey- Love- Careful there it's boiling," Ben muttered, hot on your heels as you carried the steaming pot.

"Yeah yeah don't worry I'm okay".

"I'll grab the plates and glasses," he said and darted back into the kitchen.

"Hey will you get some forks too please?" You called out after arranging everything properly on the table.

"Yeah bringing".

"Thank you".

The parents exchanged looks at the simple, basic conversation which seemed almost meaningless but somehow held such depth.

And after a fabulous dinner and bidding goodbye to Ben's family, you two had started the work of setting all the things in place. It was tedious to the core but helped greatly in relieving any kind of stress that was plaguing your mind.

And after about two whole hours of hardwork, all was finally done and you took a look around to smile at your new home.

"Ben?" You went in search for him to see your boyfriend in the kitchen, carrying two mugs of coffee.

"Yeah?" He placed the mugs on the table and sat down, gesturing for you to do the same while slowly sipping his caffeine.

"Where'd you keep my guitar? I don't remember seeing it-"

You were cut off by him pointing towards the piano that was kept in one corner of the living room and your eyes drifted to see your gorgeous black acoustic hanging on a wall right beside the instrument.

"That's the perfect place," you said, looking at him with delight.

"I'm glad. Maybe we can do some covers and record them someday," he suggested and took your hand, intertwining your fingers and brushing his lips against your knuckles.

"Yeah we can do that," you smiled and closed your eyes when he leaned in to kiss you with every ounce of passion and love.

===============================

Next thing you know, you're saving money like never before just to spend it all at a jewelry store. Gettin' down on one knee on her mama's porch just prayin' she don't say no.

"Never thought I'd see this day," Jack shook his head and looked at his brother and laughed. "Is the size correct?"

"Of course it bloody is," Ben muttered, slightly offended that he'd even doubt that.

"Should I pack it then, Mr Barnes?" The attender asked with a smile on her face, pleased at Ben's choice.

"Yes please thank you," he nodded, hands shaking slightly due to nervousness.

The middle aged lady noticed it and looked warmly at the fumbling young man, "Your woman is one lucky girl".

"I think this one is luckier to have her," Jack interjected and they all laughed.

"That's true actually," Ben murmured and took the precious, black coloured box, keeping it safely in his pocket.

"You are so whipped, my god. It's actually adorable I must say".

"Sure it is. When are you giving me the chance to pay you back for the hell that you've given me the last five years?" He asked, smirking slightly ad they got into the car and began driving home.

"That won't happen soon so don't you worry your pretty little head about it".

Ben merely smiled cheekily and parked his car in the driveway before getting out and walking into his first home.

You were currently on a business trip in another country amd wouldn't be back for a week at the most. And it was safe to say that your boyfriend missed you. Terribly.

"Hey Dad," he greeted his father who was watching a badminton match. "Since when did you start watching badminton?"

"Since my lovely daughter in law introduced me to it rather enthusiastically," he said with a knowing glint making Ben stare.

"Yes yes we know all about your shenanigans," his mother entered the living room and all three of them gave him matching grins.

"So let's see, where's the ring?" She asked excitedly and Ben pulled out the small box and handed it to her.

"Goodness love it's beautiful," she breathed, staring at the elegant silver band. "It's perfect for her," she said to herself and her eyes became teary.

"My baby's all grown up," she laughed through the tears and pulled her eldest in a loving embrace. Her not even understanding just how quickly time had passed. Just yesterday he was running around the house, singing his lungs out to songs playing on the radio. And now here he was, earning himself big from the industry and using that to buy his future wife a bond to last the next seven lifetimes.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered in his ear and he tightened his arms, feeling like a little boy again.

He could feel himself getting emotional and rapidly blinked back the tears, not really wanting to cry in front of them.

"I'm proud to have you as my son, Ben," Thomas patted him on his back, his eyes too shining and ruffled his hair, exactly the way he did when the young man before him was nothing but a boy.

"And doesn't matter how much trouble I've caused you in this lifetime," Jack began his speech making everyone chuckle. "You really are the best brother-" he broke off when Ben pulled his younger brother in a bone-crushing hug.

They all laughed and the amount of warmth radiating through the room could really rival the sun's. But there was only one thing missing. One person who was not present.

And his smile fell just a tiny bit, but Tricia Barnes noticed it, of course she did. "Call her," she said with a smile and squeezed his shoulder while he nodded and walked towards his room, immediately dialing up your number and lying down on his bed.

You picked up after a few rings, "Hello?"

"Hey," he said, voice barely above a whisper and he cleared his throat.

"Ben," you breathed out. It had been seven days since you'd last seen each other and there was this ever present tightness in your chest. "What's wrong love? You okay?"

"Yeah," he sniffed and rolled over on his side, staring out of the window. "Now I am".

Your lips twitched a little, "How are you?" You asked the question as though you hadn't spoken to each other just the night before.

"I'm okay. I just.. Miss you," he swallowed, unable to keep back the emotions that wanted to escape.

You immediately took notice of the change in his voice and your heart broke a little, "I'm so sorry. I wish I could be there, Ben. I really wish that so much".

"No don't be silly! You're there for work, you should be focusing on that," he said and took a hold of himself. Not wanting to bother you and distract you from your job.

"You are more important, Barnes".

He looked down with a smile, "I'm serious. I just called you 'cause I missed you that's all. And my family there decided that it was a good day to say some really heartfelt words and make me emotional".

You chuckled softly, "Should I add to that long list of compliments?"

"Please don't," his eyes widened as though he expected you to do just that. He thought he might as well breakdown if you did.

"Nah don't worry I'm not that cruel".

"Sure," he said, already having a mental list of instances that proved otherwise.

"Oh shut up that was not cruelty," you said, understanding exactly what was in his mind.

"Oh yeah? Might I remind you of the time that you 'accidentally' dyed my hair blond?"

You snorted and that made him go off even more, "It didn't come off for a month!"

"Well atleast it wasn't pink".

"How reassuring," he said dryly and you roared with laughter. One simple memory emitting such joy that he couldn't help but join in.

"When are you coming back? I miss you, darling," he said once you two had both controlled yourselves.

"As soon as I can, love, I promise," you sighed. "Hey Ben, I'm really sorry but I gotta go".

"Yeah it's alright. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just finish your work. And don't you overwork yourself or skip any meals because of stress or I swear I'm going to come there and feed you myself if I have to".

"I wouldn't put it past you at all," you whispered.

"I'm proud of you, yeah? And I love you, so so much baby".

"I love you too, so so much".

Two weeks had passed since the conversation and Ben and his family were currently at your house. Everybody was sitting in the garden, soaking in the sunlight and enjoying the warm weather.

You were wearing a gorgeous sundress and were leaning against the tree while in conversation with your mum. Your hands on the other hand were nestled in Ben's soft hair, running your fingers through them as he rested his head on your thigh.

You were deep in conversation when he opened his eyes and removed the sunglasses to simply look at you properly and god did he fall in love again right there.

Your brown hair shone gold under the sunlight and your dark irises too had a muddy shade to them. Your body seemed to radiate a divine glow and he was enraptured.

And of course that's exactly when his mum called you and stood up straight, forgetting completely about Ben.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry," you couldn't help but laugh at his adorably frustrated face.

"Where are you going?" He grumbled and pulled you right back on him making your eyes widen as you glanced at you mum who pretended to check her nails.

"Your mother is calling me, I have to go".

He suddenly stilled and immediately let go of your hand, almost pushing you towards the house earning a strange look.

"Way to be obvious Ben," Jack snorted and threw a pebble.

"God I can't do this, she's gonna say no," his hands flapped nervously as he paced around the lawn, every negative thought making its appearance and troubling him.

But of course you didn't say no, of course you didn't deny such a big happiness to ever enter your life.

And naturally you nodded, silent tears dripping down your cheeks which mirrored Ben's face. He slid the ring onto your finger, your families erupting in a huge round of applause at the action.

"I love you so much sweetheart, more than you could ever dream of," he said, jaw clenching slightly and eyes bloodshot.

"I love you too my Disney prince," you whispered and the two of you chuckled despite the tears and my god the kiss that followed had his heart almost jumping out of his chest due to the sheer amount of love, passion and promise.

===============================

I think we do need a part 2 for this huh

#Spotify #fanfic #fanfiction #grishaverse #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes fluff #benjamin thomas barnes #bin bons #benjamin barnes

[givemea-dam-break]

heyy could you do anthony lockwood x reader, where they used to be best friends but something bad happens to the reader and they stop talking and after years the reunite because of a case. maybe angst and fluff

a/n: absolutely!!! i had an idea for something like this, so i hope you enjoy! there isn't too much fluff, just as a warning, but there's lots of angst lol :)

warnings: mentions of death, language gn reader

part 2

You shouldn't have come back to London.

After years of being away, it all feels so unfamiliar, so busy and suffocating. There's so much going on, so much noise, that it's overwhelming and you can barely breathe. Once, London was home. Once, London held everything you called dear. Not anymore. Now, it is a strange land of bright lights and rapier-bearing children. But nothing has changed about it. Only you.

The taxi you occupy turns onto a quieter street, free of traffic and pedestrians, yet somehow it feels worse being here. The houses tower above you like looming monsters, waiting to swallow you whole.

Stepping out of the taxi is the second hardest part of this whole ordeal. The hardest? Ringing the doorbell.

An iron line is inlaid in the ground at your feet, dampened by dust and muck and faint imprints of muddy shoes. The flowerboxes beneath the ground floor windows are slightly overgrown but bursting with colour. Even outside, there's a faint smell of tea and toast.

When the front door opens, your heart lurches in your chest with nerves. A girl, likely the same age as you, stands there, her hair bobbed and her eyes bright, offering you a smile that hides a little confusion.

"Hello," she says, her accent distinctly northern. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," you say, trying to push down your unease. "I was hoping to get an appointment? I know I've not booked ahead, and understand if you're busy, but I have a problem with a few ghosts."

She hesitates before saying, "Of course. Come in. I'll get my colleagues. Do you want any tea, a coffee, maybe? Some water?"

"No, thank you," you murmur, stepping into the house. You're worried if you drink anything that you'll throw it all up.

The house is cluttered, to put it simply. Masks from dozens of different countries hang on the walls. Rapiers are set in an umbrella stand next to a shoe rack. The rug running down the hallway is old-fashioned and tattered. A crystal skull provides light from a sideboard.

Nothing has changed.

The girl, who introduces herself as Lucy, gestures you into the living room and you sit on the aged sofa, picking at the skin around your nails as she hurries off to the kitchen to get the other two members of the agency. When she returns, she's carrying a tray of biscuits.

A boy with dark hair walks in first, pushing a pair of glasses up his nose as he studies you. He sits on the sofa across from you, close to the door, his interest shifting from you to the tray of goodies on the coffee table. His name is George, you are told, and he gives a distracted wave, pulling a notebook out of a side-table drawer and opening it up to a tattered page.

It's when the second boy steps through the door that you want to up and run. Dressed in a shirt and tie, he looks the most professional out of the lot, carrying the company's 'prestigious' title on his shoulders. His hair, neatly brushed, falls across his brow above a pair of dark, shining eyes, and he's grinning in such a charming and polite manner that it makes you feel a little more at ease.

It melts when he realises who you are.

"(name)?" he says incredulously. "(name) (last name)?"

Lucy sits on the same sofa as George, frowning. "You two know each other?"

Anthony Lockwood has not moved from the doorway. He looks at you, wide-eyed with lips parted in shock, and your hands shake so you stuff them in the pockets of your jacket.

"We did once," he says after a moment. "What can I do for you?"

As he moves to the armchair closest to your sofa, his movements are stiff and tense. You try to keep your gaze away from him, worried you'll implode if you look at him for too long. You really shouldn't have come here, but you don't trust anyone else to help you. Not Fittes, not Rotwell, not Tendy's, not any of the big agencies.

"I've got an issue with two ghosts," you say.

George snorts, and Lucy elbows him. "Don't we all?"

Lockwood ignores him. "How so?"

Swallowing your anxiousness, you say, "My mum and aunt... Well, to make a long story short, they got in an accident about a month ago and didn't survive. Since then, at night, it's been freezing in the house, and my dad - he's not doing well. It's a given, because of what's happened, but this is much worse. Like the life is being drained out of him. And then I started seeing their ghosts. They creep down the hallway at night, talking to each other and crying, and my dad isn't getting better. I need you guys to get rid of them."

The words are hard to say, and you have to ignore the expressions on the agents' faces lest you break apart into a million pieces and start crying.

Lockwood is the first to speak. "(name), I'm so sorry -"

"I don't want condolences," you cut in sharply. "I want them gone."

George pauses writing in his notebook. "You're our age, right? Can't you get rid of them yourself?"

"George!" Lucy scolds. "This is their family, it's not that easy."

"I'm not an agent," you say. "I was never trained to be one. I've always had plans for higher education, so my parents kept me out of that field. Believe me, if I could do it myself, I would. This is a last resort for me. London is the last place I want to be, right now."

You don't add that this house is specifically where you hate being. You definitely don't add that the boy sitting mere feet away from you probably wishes you were on the other side of the country, and that you feel a similar way. It's hard even sitting in his house after everything that's happened.

"Look, I just need to help my dad," you continue. "Every day, their spirits seem to be draining him and I don't know why. We're just a half an hour out of London in this little town. It's not far, I swear."

"Why not get Fittes?" Lockwood asks, and his voice shocks you. The tenderness in it. The care. "They operate nationwide. We're London-based."

"I don't - I don't trust anyone else to do this." Anxiously, you pick a biscuit from the tray, and George seems to heave a sigh of relief, plucking one for himself. "If it were some ghost we didn't know, then, yeah, whatever. But this is my family. I don't want strangers dealing with them."

"That's exactly what we are," George reminds you around his biscuit.

"Not me," Lockwood says. "(name), we'd be more than happy to help you. And I'm sorry to hear about their deaths. It can't be easy."

Shrugging, you say, "I'm coming to terms with it. How soon can you come?"

The three agents share a look and Lockwood says, "Within the next few days. We just need to do some research and get some equipment. Is that all right?"

You nod, taking a bite of the biscuit and cringing at the taste. This isn't the flavour you like - you meant to pick up the biscuit next to it.

"Lucy, George, can you guys head to the Archives soon and get some research done? I'm going to speak to (name) for a little longer."

Both nod, casting glances between you and Lockwood, before disappearing into the hallway and gently closing the door behind them. Your heart lurches with anxiety, and you want to curl up in a ball and hide from Lockwood's gaze.

"You look different," he says after a moment of silence. "You got your hair cut."

"You sound different," you retort. "I suppose puberty finally caught up to you."

He breathes a laugh, but it's slightly strained. It's not easy being here with him, but you've got to get through it or things won't get better at home. You can't just sit and watch the only family you have waste away.

So, here you stay, trying not to look at Lockwood for too long. A heavy, tense silence hangs over you both, interrupted only by Lucy's and George's voices and the front door slamming shut as they leave.

"They both seem nice," you murmur, placing your biscuit down on the tray. "How'd you guys meet?"

Lockwood looks like he's been shaken from a daze. "I met George after he'd been fired from Fittes and we became friends, set up the company. Lucy came a little while after looking for a job. It's just been us for the last year."

"I've heard about all the work you guys have done," you say. "Exciting stuff, huh? I saw your face in a newspaper at the train station earlier."

He grins proudly, and you see his mother in his smile. It takes you by shock, thinking of his mum after so long, and grief clutches at your heart. Here you both sit after years of being apart, both motherless, both fatherless in your own different ways. So long ago, your differences were what tore you apart. Now, they've brought you together again. You're not sure how to feel about it.

"So..." The smile fades a little, and he sits back. Everything in his posture screams comfort and ease, but you can see the twitch in his fingers and apprehension in his eyes. "How have you been? It's been, what, three years since you left?"

I didn't have a choice, you want to say. Family issues were what caused you to move away from London, but Lockwood had never been able to see it that way. After the deaths of his parents and sister, he only ever saw it as you leaving him. His shouts from the day you told him seem to echo in the silence of the room now.

"Three and a bit," you say. "I've stuck in school, applied for universities. It's just a waiting game now, seeing who accepts and who doesn't. What about you?"

He shrugs. "Same old. Getting rid of ghosts. Throwing darts at a picture of you on my wall."

You know it's a joke to try and lighten the mood, but something in your chest hurts when he says that.

"Are you still mad about me going?" you ask. "Lockwood, you know I didn't have a say in that."

"Doesn't matter now. It was years ago."

A frown slips onto your lips, and you shift on the sofa uncomfortably. Anger is rising in your chest, threatening to break free, but you can't let it. You need him to get rid of your ghosts, and he likely won't do that if you're shouting at him.

"Look, I get it, you felt like I left you, but I didn't. I sure as hell didn't want to. I mean, I begged my parents to let me just stay here with you, but I didn't have a choice. If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at them."

"I was fourteen -"

"So was I!" The words escape your mouth before you can stop them. "What did you want me to do? And, no, I don't want a bullshit, Stay. I wanted you to fight. Because that's what I did. But I was fourteen, Lockwood, and I didn't have a choice."

A muscle twitches in his cheek and his jaw sets as he looks away from you. "Like I said, doesn't matter now."

"It does matter," you insist. "The only person I have left in my life is my dad who's slowly dying. I've made no friends back home. I've got nobody. I was hoping... God, I don't know what I was hoping by coming back here. That maybe you would've gotten over this stupid grudge?"

He hesitates as if about to say something, but he stops himself short, opting to stare out of the window behind you.

"You're the only friend I've ever had, that's why I trust you to help me out. And I thank you for agreeing to it, but do we have to carry on like this? With you mad at me for something that wasn't my fault?"

"You did write me a letter in which you called me a 'selfish prick' and a 'conceited asshole' among a few other things," he comments.

Screw not getting angry.

"Because you didn't even see me off the day I left!" You stand from the sofa, hands closed in fists by your sides. Your nails are cutting into the skin of your palms. "We even came here so I could say goodbye, but you refused to open the door."

"Did you think I could face seeing you leave?" he demands. He looks at you now, his gaze edging on a harsh glare. "The only person I had left leaving me behind. I was hurt, (name). I would've only prolonged it by seeing you."

You grit your teeth. "You are unbelievable."

"You're no better."

Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a few ten-pound notes and a slip of paper, and slap them on the coffee table. "A deposit for the job and our address. My dad and I won't be in, so you won't need to worry about us being in the way. Give that number a call, and we'll head back to pay the rest of the fee."

Lockwood stares down at the money for a moment before looking back at you. "You don't have to pay us for this. We're friends."

"Oh, so now we're friends?"

It's hard to keep the scowl off your face. Slowly, Lockwood stands, as if trying not to startle you with quick movements. There's a look in his eyes, similar to one he'd get when you were mad when you were kids and wanted to try and calm you down.

"I'm going to pay you for this," you say, "because, otherwise, you might bail on us, and I am not risking my dad's health for your fucked-up need to keep grudges on the wrong people. So take the money, and call the number when you're done. After that, you won't need to see me again, all right? I'll be out of your life for good, leaving you to your new friends and flourishing business while I fuck off somewhere else in the country for the rest of my life."

Once more, he hesitates. "What will you do at uni?"

The attempt to ease the conversation back to awkward politeness enrages you, but you suck in a deep breath to calm yourself and say, "History. I'm going to explore the world and hear about the cultures and practices surrounding ghosts. Someone I was once close to inspired that."

Lockwood may well believe that you're talking about his parents, who famously travelled to many countries in search of information, but they are not the reason. He is.

Despite it all, despite the things he's said to you in the past and the pain you've felt from dozens of letters pleading for a response only to be left unanswered, he's the reason for many things you do. Why you make your bed the way you do; why you put honey in your tea and sugar in your coffee; why you still wear a single ring on your right hand, matched only by one other. One that he still wears.

"I'll see you in a few days," you say tightly. "After that, you'll have no need to see me again."

Softly, softer than you thought possible, he says, "And what if I want to see you again?"

"Well, you have my face on your wall to throw darts at, remember?"

"I'm being serious, (name). Look, I'm sorry for... everything. We can work it out over coffee someday, or something, maybe?"

You hesitate, thinking about his offer. Your heart longs to, to be sitting with your childhood best friend once more and working through your issues. Maybe you'll be able to be friends again, maybe to be something more like you had so wished years ago - well, if you could ever feel that way about him again. But the bitterness of betrayal still clings to your heart.

"Get rid of the ghosts," you say, hand now resting on the handle of the living room's door, "and we'll see."

A little smile tugs on his lips, relieved that you haven't flat-out refused him.

"Just know that I'm only here for a few more months. Then I'm moving to university. If you're not too worried about me 'leaving' you, I'll consider the coffee. But only then. I'm not going to put myself through a pointless conversation if we're just going to have a repeat of last time."

"We won't," he says.

And despite the pain of the memories, you believe him. Because you always have. Maybe that will be your downfall.

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

[wrencatte]

I don't know about you, but that "I'm so scared." panel is haunting me....

Please excuse all the weird errors of all kinds. I once again wrote this on my phone in tumblr drafts...at work (😅😅).

I won't know how many words this is until I can get it in a doc and clean it up for ao3 posting

Bruce closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, steeling himself.

Dick had a tendency to go high. Jason's tendency is to go low. He tucks himself under tables and in small spaces that adults usually can't fit into. The Cave has a lot of places to hide under (and has a lot of places to climb onto, high into the sky where fear is just a memory and your parents bodies seem so far away) and Bruce has scoured the more obvious places before finding this one: the work table, where he dismantles and fiddles with gear.

And where Jason has taken to messing with his own gear, absolutely fascinated by the intricate mechanisms that made it all work. The kid is an absolute gearhead along with his love for literature, several books on different engines and vehicles have started to migrate to his room.

So Bruce crouches on his knees and peers under the table. The table is deep for toolboxes and a set of drawers on top, and Jason has managed to shove himself in the darkest corner, curled up in the smallest ball possible. He's hit a slight growth spurt in the last few months, leaving his elbows and toes sticking out from the shadows. His face is tucked into his knees. His breathing frantic and hitching - but still so impossibly quiet, like he's spent years teaching himself to cry silently and Bruce's heart breaks all over again at the reminder

(This isn't the first time Jason's cried since he came to live in the Manor, and every single time Bruce never knows unless he's right there when he starts or if he walks in on him mid-sob. And Bruce hates it.)

Bruce's broad shoulders block the light, and Jason flinches into a tighter ball, toes disappearing in the shadows.

"Hey," Bruce starts then stops and doesn't continue for a long moment. Jason stills like a rabbit caught in a fox's gaze, barely perceivable quivers. He exhales slowly. His knees ache on the worn thin rug that's meant to keep dropped things from rolling away. He settles down, legs crossed, hands up on his knees to show he's unarmed, though who knows what Jason's actually seeing. "Want to come out from there?"

Jason shakes his head.

"That's alright," Bruce assures him even though it can't be comfortable down there. "You don't have to so anything you don't want to do."

Jason's next breath is the loudest thing he's ever heard since he got hit with the fear gas. A new batch, more potent than the last. Half a dose could give an adult a heart attack. Jason got one-eighth of a dose via a broken mask and a second too late realization. Hell, they didn't even know he'd actually gotten hit until they made it to the Cave and Bruce turned around and he was gone, the analysis beeping behind him with the announcement that their current anti toxins would be ineffective.

He has a new anti toxin slowly being pieced together by a program and under Alfred's watchful eye, but that does nothing for him right here, right now, with Jason too terrified to make a sound.

Bruce doesn't talk much - he's never needed to - but he sits there and he starts talking. First about a case, of a long ago Rogue that had a funnier gimmick than most and did surface level property damage more than anything else - but eventually he found himself talking about the Justice League, about their unprecedented expansion, about various antics some of the newer heroes get up to.

He doesn't know if Jason's listening or even hears what he's saying. The boy doesn't uncurl. Doesn't make a sound. He hopes that he's breaking through the living nightmare somehow, but he also knows that hope doesn't mean anything.

But he keeps talking anyway.

During a lull, when Bruce's mouth is dry and his throat hurts and - Jason shifts just the tiniest bit. He peeks out from behind his knees, eyes glittering in the dark, and stares at Bruce with pupils blown wide from fear and drugs, chin trembling. Bruce feels like the kid is looking into his soul and finding him lacking, but he opens his mouth anyway and croaks out,

"I'm scared," soft and wavering, thick with tears and the type of brokenness that lends itself to helplessness.

It's a little bit like a confession. An admittance he doesn't want to make but he has no choice but to make it.

"I know," Bruce says gently. "We can fix that, though. It may seem like it, but you don't have to be scared forever."

He holds out a hand, warm and inviting in that same way he did towards the kid sitting across from him at a rickety outdoor picnic table, one who'd just finished inhaling a subpar batburger and fries, one who'd just fifteen minutes ago had even caught jacking the batmobile's tires and had the moxie to whack Batman in the stomach with a tire iron.

The kid then had eyed it warily. And didn't take it, just took a sip of his drink and quietly agreed to let Batman set him up in a warm house with warm meals and clean clothes and the most comfortable bed ever with the 'person I trust the most' - which isn't Bruce Wayne, but one Alfred Pennyworth.

The kid now eyes the hand warily. And takes it. Lets Bruce help him from under the table and lets Bruce fold him into a tight hug, his face tucked against the man's neck, breaths sobbing and hitching.

"I'm so scared," Jason repeats.

"Not for much longer, Jaylad. I've got you."

"I'm so scared," he says out loud, but there's no one around to hear it.

Jason's both grateful for it and collapsing inward when there's no assurance that'll all be over soon, that it won't be forever, that dad's got him. He drops to his knees with a gasp, heart thudding so hard he can feel it in his throat.

He's alone.

He's alone and there's a fear in his chest, invading his lungs, burrowing in his bones. It's going to be there forever. Forever and ever until he dies from it because this isn't a new life, this isn't a gift or love. This is a death sentence. Jason puts a hand to the ground to heave himself up but the thought of walking onto those streets makes him gasp and choke and the fear cycles in on itself from fear to adrenaline to fear fear fear. Never ending. Ramping up bit by bit the more Jason breathes and trembles and, fuck, he's terrified.

Jason scrambles backward on his hands until he hits a shelving unit that rattles. It feels like a knee to the spine, holding him down, driving in, and he sobs quietly. Quiet like he always is when he cries because there's never been a point in being loud about it. Being loud just got attention and attention was always bad.

And he's back to where he was fifteen minutes ago before Marquise - Scandal - showed up and dismissed him and walked away before he could explain. Knees tucked to his chest, arms around his legs, trying to convince himself to stand up, to just go already. His chest heaves. The space gets humid from his tears. He feel like he's going to pass out, dizzy and nauseous.

He's too exposed like this, Jason thinks. Realizes. Fears. (And that fear feeds back into itself, and he hates, hates this so much, but that's not enough. The hate isn't enough to override it.) The room is half trashed and covered in rubble, and he's a whole foot taller than he'd been as a kid, but there, right there -

Jason fits there. Here, under a metal table that has his mask sitting innocently on top. It got wedged against a wall, propped up slightly by some concrete. He tucks himself under it and stays there.

And thinks about - nothing. Because if he thinks about anything - like Batman across the rickety picnic table, offering him a warm house and warm food. Like Batman scolding him for doing something reckless and scaring the shit out of him. Like Bruce sitting on the floor, so patient and understanding and telling him that this fear is only temporary.

Like Batman throwing batarang and the thick spray of blood. Like Batman throwing a punch hard enough to shatter his helmet. Like Batman ripping the insignia off his chest and dragging him across a rooftop.

Jason can't help the whimper. He tips over to lean against a table leg and gasps around the vice around his lungs.

He won't make it out of here. He'll hyperventilate himself into unconsciousness and someone will find him, wearing most of his Red Hood suit, and that person will kill him. Or they'll call the cops and he'll end up in Arkham and he'll die there. There is no normal life. No identity in Metropolis for him. Even if he did make it there, he'd be dead at the first villain attack, unable to defend himself as his aderenaline surges and the fear sets in.

He never expected Bruce to be this so fucking naïve. Cynical idealism? Sure. But not this.

"Hood?"

Jason doesn't acknowledge his name, or the voice. Purposeful footsteps crunch on debris, announcing their path from the hole in the wall to Jason, getting closer and closer.

And closer.

Until there's a shadow of legs blocking the scant light. Until the figure crouches down and there's Nightwing, peering under the table with wide, concerned eyes. He's not wearing his domino, Jason notes almost distantly. His body doesn't feel like his own anymore for all that he can feel the cool metal table against this temple and the rough feel of his pants in his clenched fists.

All there is, is the fear.

"Jason," Dick says with his own kinda fear.

He's reaching under the table, not holding a hand out for Jason to take, for Jason to choose for himself - and the man doesn't know the significance of that, but something in Jason settles anyway at the stark difference.

Dick goes all the way, cupping Jason's face like he does with them all - a pinkie under the jaw for the faint hint of a heart beat, a thumb across the cheek for comfort, his palm to lean into and let him carry the weight. And Jason does lean into it, trembling and shuddery, wet eyes closing.

"C'mon, let's get out from under here." He guides Jason forward until he's spilling into his brother’s arms, face pressed into his shoulder. The Nightwing suit is too tight to grip so Jason wraps his arms around Dick instead, clinging to him tightly. Dick hugs him back just as hard, rocking back and forth.

"I'm scared," Jason whispers - an admittance he has no choice but to make.

Dick hugs him tighter, pulling him into his lap like he's a child. Under a difference circumstance it would be comedic - Jason is broader and taller than Dick - but right now he's just small.

"I've got you," Dick says gently.

He doesn't know why, but that juat makes Jason cry harder.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #gotham war #my writing

[riordanness]

he isn’t you [p.parker]

1.1K wordcount

requested: no

warnings: slightly abusive/manipulative relationship (not w peter)

[a/n: old writing, proceed with a cringe warning]

I walked with my head down through the crowded hallway of my school, Midtown School of Science and Technology. Kids busted around me, pushing and shoving, kissing and making out, yelling and crying and fighting.

"Hey." Someone touched my arm. My best friend, Peter Parker. His brown eyes searched mine, and he looked worried. I could tell, because whenever he's worried, his forehead crumples and his nose wrinkles, in this really strange, but somehow cute way.

"Hey," I said back, smiling slightly. "You're cute when you're worried."

"What?" Peter looked taken aback. His hand dropped from my arm, and he stared at me blankly.

I laughed. "Never mind. What's up?"

"Oh... Nothing. It's fine." He smiled, but I could tell it was forced. I didn't push it though. Peter and I had been best friends since we were five, and i food read him like a book, so I knew something was wrong. Either way, I wasn't going to force him into saying anything. If he wanted to tell me, he would.

I nodded. "Okay then. I'm looking for Jace... Have you seen him?" Jace was my boyfriend. I didn't think Peter liked him much though, because whenever I brought Jace up in conversation, Peter always tensed up and quickly changed the subject.

"No." Peter shook his head. "How- how's everything going with him? Everything okay? You're happy with him...?"

I smiled. Peter was so sweet. He'd always looked out for me, and did everything he could to help make me feel better.

"Yeah, everything's great," I lied. To tell the truth, everything wasn't great. Recently, Jace had started making me do all of his homework for him, and expecting me to obey his every whim. So far, he hadn't made me do anything utterly terrible, but I still felt a bit uncomfortable with our relationship. It just wasn't what I wanted.

Peter smiled a little. "Okay good. You'd... you'd tell me if anything was wrong, right? You'd let me help?"

I gave him a hug. "Of course, Pete. You're my absolute best friend. Of all time. You're always the one I come to about everything. But it's all just fine at the moment. Nothing to worry about, okay?"

Peter nodded, his lips pursed. I wondered briefly if he could read me as well as I could read him. I hoped not.

"You're still coming to the movies with me tonight, right?" Peter asked.

" 'Course, silly," I smiled, hitting him gently on the arm. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Okay, great..." Peter smiled, a little relieved, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "See you tonight, then. At six. I'll pick you up."

I nodded, and with that, my best friend of ten years had disapearred into the crowd.

"Hey, baby," a new voice greeted me. This one, I was not happy to hear. I turned, just as an arm snaked its way around my waist.

"Hey, Jace." I forced a smile. Luckily, I was good at that.

"Did you do my homework for me? And get me those candy bars as well?"

I have to bite back a snarky remark, and reached into my backpack. I dug around for a few seconds, and pulled out a crumpled handful of Hershey bars, and an equally crumpled pile of paper sheets.

"Here." I handed the piles to Jace.

"Thank you, baby." Jace's tone was anything but thankful. He looked at me, and something in his expression scared me. "I'm thinking of doing something fun tonight... What do you say? A game of: 'you do exactly what I say for an hour'?"

The excited glint in his eyes made me shrink back in horror. "No!" I managed to force out. My throat was clenching on its own, and that made it hard to speak. I felt nauseous. I was pretty sure people in healthy relationships weren't supposed to feel that.

"I--" I swallowed hard. "We're over, Jace. I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry." I pushed past him, and ran.

✨🕸✨🕸✨🕸

That night, at exactly 5:56 P.M., I was sitting on the living room couch in my mum's apartment. I scrolled through my text message chats with Jace on my phone, trying to hold back tears. He wasn't worth my tears, besides, I was about to go hang out with Peter. I needed to get my mind of my boyfriend, I mean, ex-boyfriend.

I turned my phone off, and shoved it under the couch. I didn't want to see it again.

Just then, the doorbell rang. I sprang up quickly to open it, and heard my mum calling out: "Have fun sweetie, and see you later!"

I opened the door, and felt a massive wave of relief wash over me when my eyes met Peter's hazel ones. I couldn't help myself; I just ran right into his arms, not saying a word. I was afraid that if I did, I would start crying all over again.

"Oh, hey," Peter said, a little surprised. He wrapped his arms around me nevertheless. "You look, uh, really nice."

I'd forgotten what I was wearing, so I glanced down. Oh right. Slip-on tan brown flats, which were plain but super cute; a simple red dress, which had thick strap sleeves, and a navy blue cardigan tied around my waist. I'd braided my hair in a single braid down my back.

"Oh, thanks." I flushed. Jace had never really given me compliments, at least not after the initial few weeks of being together. He'd been a perfect boyfriend until a month after he'd asked me out, and then all turned to complete crap.

Peter smiled. "You ready to go?"

I glanced once at the couch, and at my phone which still lay underneath it, and made a quick decsision. "Yeah, I'm ready to go. I don't need anything."

Peter nodded, then he hesitated. "Before we go, actually, y/n, I have to tell you something..."

I frowned slightly. "What is it?" Was he going to say that he never wanted to see me again? Did he hate me? Was being my friend too much work for him? Was I too annoying?

"I love you."

Oh. Well that's not what I was expecting.

"And I know that you have a boyfriend, and that you're really happy with him and I'm just your stupid best friend but I've loved you since I was ten years old and I can keep this secret to myself anymore. Not that it's really a secret, I mean, both Ned and May knows, but it was kinda an accident in Ned's case, I mean --"

I shut him up with a quick kiss, pressing my mouth to his in a smooth gesture, then pulling away. "I don't have a boyfriend anymore, because he was just using me." I refused to let the tears come this time. "And... I love you too, Peter Parker."

I looked at him, and he looked at me, and I knew we understood each other. We always had, somehow.

"Now," I managed a cheeky grin, "how about that date to the movies, Parker?"

#peter parker #mcu #mcu peter parker #fanfic #fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x reader #y/n #peter parker fanfiction #mcu peter parker fanfic #tom holland peter parker

[mvrtaiswriting]

Hi! For the kiss event, can we get prompt 4 for either Mihawk or Zoro?

Zoro x prompt 4: speaking normally, then after the kiss their voice is hoarse

of course you can and aaah! thanks for requesting this!!! we all know now that I write better when it comes to emotionally unavailable men and mihawk was the perfect victim hehe. I absolutely adore this piece of writing and hope you will too! do let me know what you think ♡

gender neutral! sfw.

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.- from this event.

Getting Mihawk to open up about anything was probably the hardest challenge you had to endure since you decided to train with him. He was always so avoidant, so detached, so cold. He agreed to let you stay with him cause he recognised your talent and potential, but never complimented you once - not explicitly, at least.

After a year of intensive training, spending hours together, the two of you somehow grew a lot closer than you expected at first. He didn't despise you, and that was a big accomplishment - he kept his stoic attitudes around you, but he was never rude. He did over-exaggerated sometimes during training sessions, teasing you and pushing all of your buttons to exert an emotional response from you; and he always did, he was good at it. Mihawk could see right through you, as if your soul and deepest feelings were an open book to him. He flipped with the pages and rewrote some of them, instilling new fears and gifting new sensations every time.

"These." he said once, catching a teardrop from your eye with the tip of his sword. "these will get you killed." he continued, wiping your tear away and leaving you alone, in the middle of the battle field.

He didn't mean any harm, really - he was only brutal cause he cared, although that definitely wasn't the best way to show it. It was only after you snapped back at him and won against him for the first time, that he finally opened up to you. After that tremendous afternoon, he started to tell you more about him, sometimes narrating some of his adventures, others sharing his political views with you. This was his way to show you that he truly cared; he never let anyone get this close to him.

So now, during one of your usual evening chats, you were sitting next to him on the sofa. He held his wine glass in his hands, sometimes moving it swiftly to get mix his wine and get the best taste out of hit.

"This is definitely the worst generation." he said, keeping his composure.

You nodded in response, as you kept looking at him - he was hypnotising. The way he gesticulated, his controversial yet so interesting takes on everything. Putting your glass on the coffee table in front of you, you leaned back on the sofa and started to listen to him again. Your gaze slowly shifted to his lips, appreciating how his beard gracefully framed his face. Mihawk instinctively stretched an arm toward you to fix a rebellious strand of hair that was now covering your face, never losing focus on what he was saying.

"I think it's time to go to bed." he concluded, causing you to frown. You were exhausted from the earlier training, but you could have stayed there for hours. You nodded, leaning towards him and leaving a soft, uncertain kiss on his lips just before he could say something else.

Mihawk reciprocated your kiss timidly, a brief act of intimacy that lasted just enough before you embarrassedly pulled away.

Visibly blushing, Mihawk cleared his throats trying to act as if nothing happened. "Goodnight, y/n." he said, his voice sounding hoarser and deeper than normal as a new, warm emotion made its way into his heart.

#mihawk icons #mihawk fluff #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece fanart #one piece fanfiction #one piece fic #one piece x oc #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #straw hat zoro #zoro x reader

[impishtubist]

happy birthday, second-sister <3

A while back, I did a poll about what character I should breed next in my fics, and it was a VERY close call between James and Remus, and you BEGGED for James..................so I wrote you both lmao.

Anyway have an absolutely delightful birthday, @second-sister ! 

----

“Here we are, Moons! That’s the last of it,” James says cheerfully, setting the last box on the floor. He straightens, resting one hand on the small of his back and the other on his belly. “Whew! Somehow, I always forget what it’s like to essentially be carrying around an extra bowling ball. Or two, in this case. How are you feeling?”

Remus is stretched out on the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes, his other arm wrapped around his stomach. He lifts his arm to glare at James, then drops it again. 

“Right, not feeling great,” James says. “No problem! I’ll help you go through all these things. Budge up.” 

He pats Remus’s leg, and Remus bends his legs at the knees to make room on the far cushion so James can sit down. James opens the box. It’s packed with newborn babygrows, some of which are almost new.

“You’re sure you won’t need those?” Remus sounds drowsy, probably from the low-dose anti-nausea potion James forced down his throat earlier. He’s already having a hard time of it, poor thing, and he’s not even out of his first trimester yet. 

“We’ve got plenty,” James says, waving a hand. “We’ve got four kids’ worth of clothes and toys in the attic. You’ll be doing us a favor, taking some of it off our hands. Oh, look!” 

He pulls a babygrow out of the box that says Top Dog on it. “This was Harry’s first outfit. You have to take it.” 

Remus musters a smile. “I think Sirius got that for him.”

“He did, and his own baby should also wear it. C’mon, Moony, it’ll be perfect.” James is already tearing up at the thought of their kids sharing this piece of clothing. Bloody hormones. He loves being pregnant, don’t get him wrong, but the one thing he can do without are the wild emotional swings. 

Over the course of the afternoon, they slowly fill some boxes with clothing, toys, and books the Potter children have outgrown. 

“Ugh, I don’t know how you love this so much,” Remus groans finally, slumping back on the couch. He’s looking a little pale, and James grabs a bin just in case. 

“Well, it helps that I never have morning sickness,” James says, and Remus glares at him. 

“You’d probably love it even if you did.”

He’s got a point. James realizes it’s weird how much he enjoys pregnancy--they’ve got four kids to prove it, with five and six on the way--but he doesn’t spend much time worrying about it. So what if it’s weird? He loves watching his body change, loves the weird cravings, loves Lily’s foot rubs and feeling their little ones kick. He’s never had a difficult birth, either, delivering all their babies at home pretty much within an hour or two of going into labor. Hazza was the fastest of them, making his debut in the back garden while Remus and Sirius were over for lunch one day. James had barely had the chance to stand up before the little rascal was crowning.

“Probably,” James says. He doesn’t have much of a lap these days, but he can fit one of Remus’s feet on his knee, and he starts rubbing Remus’s ankle. Remus hums, closing his eyes. “I know this isn’t what you two had planned, but you’re both going to be excellent dads. I hope you know that.” 

“Sirius will be,” Remus says. 

“You too, Moons. The two of you practically raised Neville.”

A shadow passes over Remus’s face, there and gone in the space of a blink. It still stings all these years later, that Neville was given to his grandmother to raise instead of his godfather. Augusta made sure that Remus got to be involved in Neville’s life, but James knows that Remus wanted nothing more than to fulfill his duties as godfather properly.

As if on cue, the front door bursts open and Harry comes into the house like a whirlwind, Neville following more sedately behind him. Lily and Sirius bring up the rear, arms laden with shopping bags. 

“Did you have fun?” James asks as Harry perches next to him on the arm of the couch. 

“Yeah!” Harry says. “Don’t get mad, though.”

“Why would I get mad?” 

“Because your son released every snake in the reptile house at the zoo,” Lily huffs, bending to kiss James on top of the head. “We had to Obliviate half of London.” 

“What happened to the snakes?” Remus asks. He sits up, scooting closer to James so Neville can sit next to him. Neville leans automatically into his godfather, and Remus wraps an arm around him. 

“Don’t worry, Moons, we made sure they were all sent home to their respective countries.” Sirius bends to kiss him on the cheek. “You know Harry would never speak to us again if we hadn’t. Are we taking all of this home?”

“You are,” James says cheerfully.

“You realize we’re only having one baby, right, not sixteen?” Sirius surveys the twenty-three boxes with dismay.

“Don’t worry, Pads, this will last you until they’re at least eighteen months old,” James says.

Remus pales, and only James’s Quidditch-fast reflexes save both the sofa, carpet, and Neville’s shoes. He shoves the bin under Remus’s face right before he retches.

“Oh, Moony.” Sirius rubs his husband’s back. “I’m sorry, love.”

Neville pats Remus’s shoulder consolingly. Remus finishes retching, and Lily casts a spell to clean the bin while Sirius does a mouth-cleaning charm on Remus.

“You three should get home.” Lily shrinks all twenty-three boxes, places them in a sack, and hands them to Sirius. “I’ll come by and check on you tomorrow at lunchtime.” 

“Aw, Mum!” Harry complains. “Can’t Neville stay?”

“Er--” Neville fidgets, reddening slightly. “Maybe another time?”

James gets it. Neville has been the focal point of Sirius’s and Remus’s lives for the past nine years, and having a baby on the way is a huge adjustment for him. He wants to spend as much time with his uncles as he can before the little one arrives. 

“Sorry, Haz, we’ve got big plans with Nev tonight,” Sirius says, ruffling Neville’s hair. He steps over Remus’s legs and crouches in front of James, placing his hands on James’s swollen belly. “You hear that, babies? It’s movie night, so you’ve got to stay put for at least another twenty-four hours.” 

Longer than that, James hopes. He can’t wait to meet the twins, but he knows a part of him will be disappointed if he doesn’t make it to his due date. He wants to savor every second of his last pregnancy.

Sirius presses a loud, smacking kiss to James’s stomach, then gets to his feet and helps Remus up. Remus can’t stomach Apparition or Floo right now, so Sirius drove the three of them in his car. It’s an hour’s journey back to the cottage, so James wordlessly holds out the now-Scourgified bin for them to take with. Sirius waves it off.

“We’ve already got one in the car. Learned the hard way that we need to keep a bin wherever this one goes.” He wraps an arm around Remus’s waist and offers a hand to Neville. “Come on, boys. Let’s go home.” 

They leave, and Harry goes up to his room. Their three youngest are with James’s parents for the night. Harry had decided to skip the sleepover with his grandparents so that he could spend the day at the zoo instead. James has a sinking feeling that, sooner or later, they’re going to end up with more than a few snakes from the garden inside their house. Harry’s always been more than a bit obsessed with them. 

“I’d ask how you’re feeling,” Lily says, “but I know the answer will be spectacular.” 

“You’re not wrong,” James says. “Wouldn’t say no to a foot rub, though, and we can talk about Christmas plans.” 

Lily sits on the couch and pulls James’s feet into her lap, giving him a stern look. “I am not knocking you up again.” 

“Come on, Lils,” James says. “The babies will be six months by then, and seven kids is a great number to have. That’s basically an entire Quidditch team! We have the room to build another addition, and--”

“No, James.”

#imp is writing #james potter #remus lupin #jily #wolfstar #the server decided that james would absolutely LOVE being pregnant and remus would HATE it #so here we are #james potter has a breeding kink #remus lupin does NOT have a breeding kink #but sirius black sure does lmao

[thunder-threnodies]

🌹 you know the deal

* cracks knuckles* oh boy here we go!

You find Francis exactly where you'd expect to find them: at your usual table at the Singing Mandrake, the same the two of you reserved for the last 30 years. And as they always did in the last 30 years, they're drinking whiskey, from 1860 or something.

They wave lazily as they smile at you and gestures for you to join them. No need for that; you're already making your way to the table without needing to actually look at where you're going: nothing has really changed in the disposition of the tables.

"Hiram, love, I was starting to suspect you'd leave me all alone!" they say with a soft, low voice bearing all the years of zalty air in their lungs and on their breath.

"Of course you wouldn't my dear! But having me long for you at the Feast of the Rose? Tsk tsk tsk..."

The bartender brings you your favourite drink without you needing to make a single move: you're much more than a regular here.

As you chat and have dinner (as usual Morgan is having raw meat and fishes) the surrounding tables get booked and left vacant now and again for quite a while.

Right after the desserts have been eaten, Morgan takes out a small pocket watch and rises an eyebrow, smiling. "Perfectly on time. It shoud begin in a short while. Shall we go?"

They make their way down a very familiar road, one you've walked many, many times: you're headed to Mahogany Hall.

Tonight's play is dedicated to the Feast and you notice someone you know well in the first row: a faint Apocyanic glow and the brass shimmer give way to their identity. It's gonna be heart breaking and you're all in for it.

As the symphonies begin, glasses of blood red wine are distribuited around as a welcome and by the smell of it you can tell it has been heavily aromatised with Honey. The vivid illusions, a masterful incision through Parabola's very fabric, bleeds dreams of the Traviata on the audience. Mirrors cleverly hidden serve as gateway, in and out, so that the Parabolan creatures seem to leap around like an aquatic play.

The show was absolutely amazing and this rendition, supervised by none other than that Giorgione gave it a wonderful twist and you suspect, no you're certainof that, that the Francis had something to do with all those mirrors...

"Amazing, wasn't it?" they smile as you stroll along Ms. Plenty's Carnival, throught the Docks and back to Veilgarden.

There's a hidden Garden in a dark corner of Ladybones Road, where a number of Bohemien, Devils and general bon vivant are slowly waltzing amongst some of the most astounding flowers and plant the Neath has to offer.

Each dancer dons a Rose mask and somehow there aren't two of the same. Morgan is handing you a beautiful and ephimeral mask, a red velvet rose that frames your left eye and intricate spiny stem with plenty of emerald green leaves that runs up to your right eyebrow and comes down the same side cheek in an intricate game of spines and leaves, creating a beautiful contrast with your Violant eyes.

Morgan themselves are wearing a matching one but mirrored, the Peligin heart of their rose givin to the mask a melancholy and, if possible, an even more fragile and temporary appearance.

Honeyed Laudanum and Honey frosted delicacies are served through the night and slowly everyone transforms and transmogrifies into something more, something less, something different.

Devils as endless, golden bee-people dance with all sorts of monsters but amongst the green and gold, the Violant Demon and the Peligin Drownie dance as their lives depend on it, a dangerous and feral merry-go-round framed in living, singing roses.

Laughing, you sit heavily on a chaise lounge as a familiar Deviless approaches: for a fleeting moment, two roses entwined, one with a Violant heart, the other in delicate shades of Peligin, stand in the middle of the bedlam, perfectly framed in green and gold. A single, radiant bee lovingly tending to the exhasusted Demon.

You don't remember when, or how you got back home.

All you know is that in your brest poket there's a Rose, Violant with a Peligin heart, filled with golden pollen, slowly bleeding Red Honey and you know this won't hurt you. This will hurt you.

But it'll hurt so good.

#fallen london #thunder threnodies #oc:captain francis dargor #oc: hiram hargrave #ask game #Gods help me with the typos

[space-mermaid-writing]

The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 3

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's Note: We see a bit of the reader's powers in this one. Loki is not happy about the revelation. Beta by @zaria-04 <3

Chapter 3: Do you fear me?

"Do you fear me?"

Loki's voice makes you look up. You are sitting on the back of the couch, looking out of the big window in front of you.

Two days have passed since the SHIELD agents were withdrawn from the suite's door. Loki hasn't mentioned it in a single word, but you're sure he has noticed. Something seems to have changed in his manner. You're not quite sure what it is. It’s like he is testing you. On what, you don't know. Maybe he's trying to estimate the extent of your influence. Or maybe it's just your patience.

You two had just some trivial small talk in those two days. Loki doesn't reply to any of your own questions or conversation starters. Most of the time, in fact, you two spend in silence. At least you're not hiding behind books anymore. And every now and then Loki throws a question into the room. Like right now. He keeps control and the conversations go according to his rules.

You turn your head to him. "I do not," you reply.

The ghost of a smirk flashes over Loki's lips. He leans casually against the wall as if he hadn't just asked a very important question. "No?"

"No."

Loki tilts his head and crosses his arms. There is nothing human about him. But you are used to dealing with nonhuman beings. It kinda intrigues you.

"I think you can be an intimidating person," you amend. "But that doesn't mean I'm intimidated by you." You shouldn't say this kind of stuff. It challenges him to prove you wrong. And you don't want to go down that route.

Loki pushes off the wall and walks over to you, covering the distance in a few lazy strides. He stops right in front of you, making you stand up as well. His eyes are cold as they flick over you, analyzing your every movement.

Unnerving, you think, but not frightening.

When you show no further reaction, Loki frowns. He reaches up and when you don't flinch away, tucks his fingers under your chin, tilting your face straight towards his own. His touch is gentle. It is absurd, absolutely absurd, that such a touch is also known to induce crippling agony in a matter of a few seconds. One of his fingers shifts under your jaw. "Your pulse is steady," he observes.

"You're in my personal space."

His eyes meet yours and for a fraction of a second, you could've sworn you see something other than his usual frigid demeanor flash over his face. You wrap your fingers around his and push his hand away from your face, gently but firmly. Loki lets it happen, but keeps his eyes on you.

"You should fear me," he grins, baring his white teeth. He has something of a predator playing with his food before eating it.

"That's for me to decide."

"You're playing with fire." His tone becomes more warning. You should be more careful, but you can't help yourself and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"I thought you were more the ice type." Somehow you just know how to push his buttons. Even unintentionally.

Anger flashes on his face and his hand goes to your neck, your fingers wrapping around it. You act instinctively. Your right hand makes a gesture and you slam it against Loki's chest. It is not very strong, but nevertheless he is thrown backwards as if by an invisible force and stumbles a few steps.

Dumbfounded, he stares at the rune glowing on your palm. "What are you?"

"I'm someone who doesn't like to get choked," you say. Your body tenses, ready to defend yourself if needed.

In a blink of an eye, Loki is standing in front of you again. Faster than you can react he grabs your wrist with one hand and pushes you with the other against the large window. The air is forced from your lungs and you close your eyes in pain for a moment. "Answer me!" he demands.

You try to move, but Loki is much stronger than you and holds you firmly in place. He presses with all his weight against your body. His breath hits the skin of your face, you smell the leather of his clothes and something else that makes you think of old libraries. A mixture of parchment and wax.

Softly, you murmur something. More runes light up on the skin of your hands and arms. A bright yellow that turns a dark orange as the runes heat up. It's a protection spell and Loki quickly lets go of you as he burns his fingers.

"Wicked witch!" he curses.

You chuckle because he's right on spot with that. As soon as he lets you go the runes disappear but you let a faded yellow glow appear on your eyes and hover a foot into the air, just to show off. "Surprised?"

"You deceived me, little minx!"

"I never said I was an ordinary human. You just assumed it in your arrogance." Admittedly, you had been careful not to use magic in his presence. But you wouldn't have denied it either if he had asked you about it. And this, here, is exactly why.

A dagger appears in Loki's hand. He hates to be wrong and even more hates to be told that he was wrong. You watch his every move, ready to jump into action, when suddenly the door to the suite opens and Thor enters.

He takes a few steps into the room and then stops bewildered. He sees you glowing up in the air, notices Loki's aggressive stance. His gaze wanders to the dagger. You both have your heads turned toward him, not giving the impression that you're just chatting nicely. "What's going on here?" he asks in a roaring voice.

Loki's posture relaxes a bit. He keeps the dagger in his hand, but changes his posture, as if you two weren’t about to jump at each other's throats just a second ago. As if he could distract Thor from the situation with that.

"We're just having an interesting conversation," he explains with an almost amused smile.

You snort. There's no way you'd lie for him. Actually, you're glad Thor showed up, because maybe you'll manage to defuse the situation without it escalating. After all, you're pretty sure Tony wouldn't like you throwing the younger prince out of the window.

"Loki just found out he's not the only one with magic in the tower anymore. And he doesn't seem to like that fact." The dark-haired man shoots you a venomous look. "What?" you spit. "Don't think I'm pretending nothing happened."

Frowning, Thor approaches you both. "Brother, are you assaulting the Lady Witch?"

Loki's gaze moves from Thor back to you. With that, I think he's gotten confirmation of what he already suspected. His eyes narrow as your gaze meets briefly. Then he turns away from you and lets his dagger disappear. But you know now that he can have one at hand any time he wants.

"You know what she is?" he asks his brother.

"Of course. I met her the other day. She is quite lovely." He says this with such sincerity that you give him a warm smile. And since Loki doesn't seem to be an imminent threat, you land back on the floor and the glow fades away. You adjust your blouse, which slipped a bit when you were pressed against the window.

"That's not the impression I got," Loki replies.

You catch his gaze. "First impressions can be deceiving. Sometimes."

His expression is emotionless. It's impossible for you to tell if he's upset, amused, or annoyed by the whole situation. Maybe a little of everything. He turns away and walks away, leaving through one of the doors into the adjoining rooms.

That's the end of today's meeting. You are totally fine with that.

"I hope you don't hold my brother's behavior against him," Thor now turns the word to you, "He doesn't mean it."

"Really? How does he mean it then?" you ask, amused, as you gather your bag from the couch.

"It's complicated." The Norse god escorts you to the door. "I assure you he's trying as hard as he can."

You are not so sure about that last part but you smile at him nevertheless. "Thanks, Thor," you simply reply. "It was nice seeing you again."

"Likewise, Lady Witch."

As soon as you leave the suite, your face falls. You tried to appear nonchalant, but the confrontation with Loki has left you quite shaken. The power of a god far exceeds yours and you're glad your defensive spell worked.

You realize that Loki had been holding back. If he really wanted to harm you, you wouldn't have been able to stop him.

Your hand moves to your neck. You can still feel Loki's fingers there, even if it had only been for a very short moment. The feeling brought up old memories you don't want to think about. You shake your head to dispel them.

You noticed that Loki acts differently when interacting with his brother. There's a familiarity between the two of them, despite all the differences they've had in the past. Loki seems to at least somewhat listen to Thor.

Every time any of the other Avengers have spoken of Loki so far, it's been in a very different tone. And with far less kind words. After what just happened, you can't blame them.

You realize that it's not enough just to make Loki socially acceptable among the public. Before that, you have to integrate him into the members of the Avengers. And that could almost be more difficult, considering how much they have been fighting each other. You decide to talk to everyone individually, when you get a chance, and maybe find out more.

But first you need to distract yourself from what just happened.

~~

You are standing in the spacious kitchen of the Tower. In front of you on the stove are two pots. Around you, you have a lot of bowls and pots spread out, from which you grab something and throw it into the hot water. In the air next to you floats a cutting board and a knife that is chopping garlic on its own.

It's a nice change to have so much space at work. Your own kitchen at home isn't exactly small either, but it's packed with so many ingredients and other stuff that sometimes you just run out of space. But since you're supposed to spend more time in the Tower and around Loki anyway, you've brought some of your work here.

Not that Loki would ever leave his suite, as far as you now. Whereas Thor has told you that the two of them visit the training rooms regularly. But the younger prince seems to have a knack for staying invisible.

The only drawback to this modern kitchen is the newfangled stove. You're used to simple gas stoves. You even need an open flame for some potions. Here, there's just a black, smooth surface and a touchfield that doesn't even have real buttons anymore. You've pressed various icons that all make the same beeping sound until the stove finally did what you want it to do.

You hear voices from the adjoining lounge. Someone always seems to be there, which is nice if you're looking for company.

An aromatic smell has spread through the kitchen, which seems to attract some of the others as well, because footsteps approach.

"Should it worry us that you're using our kitchen for your witch brews?" asks Natasha, amused. Behind her, Clint steps in and the two of them watch you working.

"Not at all," you reply with a grin. "But you shouldn't eat anything from unlabeled containers I might leave around. Just to be on the safe side."

"Like this?" asks Clint, pointing to a screw-top jar containing large chunks in a milky liquid.

"No, those are just pickled potatoes. They're really delicious." You see his skeptical face and laugh. "What, don’t you trust potatoes? Are you a Prussian?"

"What?" he asks, puzzled.

"During a famine in Europe, Emperor Frederick II ordered potatoes to be planted. But until then the people knew only about the poisonous leaves and flowers and were kinda wary of them. So the emperor performed a ruse and had his own fields guarded. The people thought that there was something valuable to get there and plundered the fields at night. That’s how potatoes became the most popular food in Central Europe. Prussians hate this trick," you explain as you press the touch field on the stove to turn it off. Natasha helps you to find the right button. "Thanks," you nod at her.

"Fun story," Clint replies meanwhile, "I wouldn't have thought you as a history nerd."

You turn your head to him and look at him with a serious face. "I was there, Gandalf. 300 years ago."

He looks back in surprise. "Wait really?"

"Well, not in Prussia. I was a child at that time and we lived in the south of the Holy Roman Empire."

The other two exchange a glance and you see some silent communication taking place between them. Unfortunately, you don't know what they're saying to each other.

You don't know why people are always so bewildered when they find out how old you really are. Sure, you look a lot younger. Using magic just does that to a body. At its best. Of course, there are types of magic that speed up the aging process immensely. However, you stay far away from those.

Still, just the fact that you are a witch should prepare people mentally. It's usually a theme in most fairy tales and modern pop culture, after all. Like vampires or Asgardian gods. They don't look like they're a thousand years old either.

You magically make the kitchen cabinet open and plates fly out. "Dinner's ready," you announce.

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

Okay, so the story about the potatoes in old Prussia is totally true and one of the few things I remember from history class. It's also one of my favorite stories. It's called the 'potato order'. Prussians hate this trick. In my head the witch!reader is about 300 years old. But it won't be specified in the story, besides that she is older than a normal human being. So think as you like. And don't forget to eat your potatoes!

Tag List: @lokisgoodgirl @lokixryss @itsybitchylittlewitchy @yokshi-unbeliebubble @fictional-hooman @elennair @all-envy-suyu @purplekitten30 @elisadmaggiore @nothing2113 @baebeepeach @ceo-of-stfu @moonlightreader649 @ronipiamka

Tell me if you wanna be added/removed or I accidentally forgot your name

#loki x y/n #Loki x reader #loki odinson #loki layfeyson x you #loki layfeson #loki laufesyon x reader #Loki x you #imagine loki #the witchling and the god #imagine marvel #mcu prompt #loki odison x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #loki fanfction #slow burn

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 29/01/2021

Sable's Stickerbush

Season 6 Featured on: siivagunner's highest quality rips: volume

Ripped by eva twin

Alright, I can't help it - I promised I was going to move on from MAGFest, but it has positively infested my mind. Everyone's sets at Chipspace were absolutely incredible, and I believe I've raved enough about them for a lifetime with Mother, Father, TechnoMan alone. Yet there was something quite magical about eva twin's set in particular. She was not only playing her own rips - she was PERFORMING them.

(link to the Twitch VOD of the Chipspace sets)

With a bass in hand and a setlist of rips ready to go, eva twin's 20-minute set of hand-picked rips was one of the most transcendant experiences I've ever had with the SiIvaGunner channel. Maybe it was just a bunch of colliding factors exclusive to my own experience - the live-chat experience, the brand new pair of headphones with an emphasized bass, and the fact that I've only through this blog discovered just how rich of a track record eva twin has with chill, atmospheric yet feel-good rips such as Blessing the Dire, Dire Rains and Mii Favorite Things. Both of these were covered here on the blog before being featured on the Chipspace set, and eva twin was one of the first rippers that I was made aware of having read the blog to begin with, even way back in June and July. I can't help but feel a little touched to think that I may have, through this blog and the word I spread on here, influenced eva twin to chose those two rips in particular for her set. Be that the case or not, I feel obligated to return the favor by covering a third rip from this set - Sable's Stickerbush.

Out of all the rips from the set - at least, the ones I haven't covered yet - I think Sable's Stickerbush mainly just sticks out because I hadn't ever heard it. Sable is a game that sits firmly in my backlog of "it looks interesting I guess"-kinds of games, and with less than 10K views on its YouTube upload Sable's Stickerbush was bound to be a rip I forgot about quite quickly. Yet the absolute vibe captured through using what's perhaps the oldest yet most effective trick in the book - Stickerbush Symphony of Stickerbrush State of Mind (and so many more) fame. Yet paired with the instrumentation and hauntingly beautiful vocals of Sable's Glider theme, it somehow manages to play second fiddle in terms of melody in a way it typically really doesn't do in rips - despite never having heard it before, Glider by Japanese Breakfast captured my imagination right away upon hearing it.

I'll no longer get to have the experience of hearing Glider for the first time within the Sable game itself, yet I can't find it in me to be mad whatsoever when the experience I had listening to Sable's Stickerbush for the first time was just as magical. Even without eva twin's bass performance from Chipspace, the rip stands as an absolutely magical combination of two pitch-perfect sources, a true expression of love toward Sable and its small yet devoted fanbase. And, of course, nothing but another feather in eva twin's cap of excellent sound.

#todays siivagunner #season 6 #siivagunner #siiva #eva twin #sable game #sable #indie games #stickerbush symphony #donkey kong country #dkc #dkc2 #donkey kong country 2 #david wise #japanese breakfast #japanese breakfast music #rareware #rare ltd #Youtube #Bandcamp

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female & ambiguous race reader

a/n: YES I FANCASTED JOSEPH QUINN AS REMUS. And I think I am a genius for coming up with it ...

Also yes it’s very long because I write different backstory’s for the separate Hogwarts Houses. 

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

🌿INFJ 🍁Gryffindor 🔮Taurus Sun, Aquarius Moon, Cancer Rising

𝐷𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐻𝑜𝑔𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠

𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝑮𝒓𝒚𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒓

✧ Pining from afar > Slow burn > aquaintances to friends to lovers > 

✧ I think you would meet in the common room. He saw you sitting, reading a book near the fire and for some reason, he couldn’t look away. 

✧ Queue a staring Remus, who didn’t realise how creepy he was being until Sirius gave him a punch in the arm. 

 “Ow! What was that for?” Remus looked incredulous at his friend. 

“Either take a picture of her or ask her out. But stop staring at the poor girl. Even I’m a little creeped out.” Sirius replied, somewhat jokingly, but somewhat serious. 

✧ Somehow you kept popping up. Remus would always be able to spot you in the hallway, the Great Hall, the library and even in class. 

✧ Then one day he couldn’t find you. Not in class. Not even in the common room. He saw your friends and searched and searched for you, but were no where to be found. 

✧ That’s when he overheard saying something about you being in the infirmary. 

✧ He panicked, of course Madame Pomfrey would be able to fix you. But what if you were in pain? What if you had hurt yourself so badly that you couldn’t come back to class for weeks? 

✧ His crush felt overwhelming. Like his heart was on fire. It was torture, just waiting until you were out of the infirmary. So, he made a promise to himself that when he saw you in the common room, he would at LEAST, talk to you

✧ And then the very next day, there you were. Waving at a friend to come sit with you. 

 “Oh god,” he mumbled. Trying to talk himself out of it ... or into it. Honestly, Remus couldn’t tell. 

    “Mate.” James’ voice sounded behind him, a firm hand clapped his shoulder. 

“Just go and talk to her,” Sirius chimed in. 

✧ And he did. 

✧ It was a mess. 

✧ But because he put himself out there, you noticed him more and more. In the library, the Great Hall. 

✧ And you waved to him. Smiled, spoke a little here and there. 

✧ It was a gradual friendship. Slow burning. Similarly to the ache Remus felt in his chest whenever he saw you. 

✧ It wasn’t until your last year when he thought he’d never see you again, when he asked you out. 

✧ You WERE ECSTATIC. You had been waiting so long for him to make a move. But you weren’t sure he liked you in the same way you liked him. 

✧ Relationship tropes:   > Seeing the worst of each other and knowing that you are the same.  > Person A is touch-starved but didn’t know it (Remus), Person A is the most affectionate, cuddly person towards them (you)

𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝑯𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒑𝒖𝒇𝒇

✯  James, Sirius and Peter colluded with your friends to trick you guys into thinking you’re in love with each other. (Like Much Ado About Nothing aka my favourite play EVER)

✯  Your friends knew about your feelings, knew you would NEVER act on them but could see you and Remus being together so badly. They wanted to make it happen. So in short; good intentions, still a bit shady

✯  James, Sirius and Peter felt bad that Remus felt so insecure and too knew about his feelings for you. So they were 100% all in on the plan

✯ Showing up to your date with Remus thinking he was absolutely smitten with you. And he believed the same. (I mean it was true but the other didn’t think they knew about the other’s feelings.) 

✯ Having an absolute blast on the date

✯ Relationship tropes:  > Person A (you) Dumbass, Person B (Remus) Okay I guess they’re my dumbass  > Tall and soft (Remus), short and violent (you)

𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝑹𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒘

✶ I think there would’ve been a rivarly between the two of you. Who could get the better marks. 

✶ Always trying to upstage one another 

✶ Your competition helped ease Remus’ mind with upcoming full moons. (His dread was palpable when they came along.) 

✶ You noticed his scars one day as his shirt hitched over his back. Something changed; you almost blushed whenever he was around

✶ There was a party for the 7th years in the room of requirement (no teachers knew). Someone came up with the idea of Truth or Dare. When it was your turn, you chose truth and the person knew exactly what to ask you. 

But the thing is, with Truth or Dare, in the Wizarding World, you cannot back out or lie.

They asked about your feelings for Remus, while he was sitting on the lounge across from you. 

And... you were forced to tell the truth. 

✶ Relationship tropes:   > nerds bonding about being nerds  > ‘the scientist and the mad’ e.g, the scientist (remus) is smart, calm and collected, mature and a lil stiff. While the mad (you), is smart as well, but CHAOTIC, ‘creative’, and improvises 90% of the time and is also a lil childish

𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝑺𝒍𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏

✦ You needed someone smart to help you with your grades. With the upcoming exams, you knew you wouldn’t pass many (and I mean MANY) of them. 

✦ Your friend was good friends with Remus, and although you were a Slytherin, Remus agreed to help tutor you. 

✦ “What do you need in exchange?” You asked, an eyebrow raised, while Remus unstacked the books on the library table. 

 “I hear you’re family friends with the potions-master...” Remus trailed off. A certain look in his eye that you could only put down to as apprehension. 

 “I am,” you sat in the opposite chair. 

You looked into his brown eyes; soft. They were so soft. 

    “I would need you to ask him to brew something for me.” 

✦ Getting what he needed, Remus was glad to tutor you. It wasn’t a big deal for him

✦ But it was for you. He didn’t know, but your house absolutely despised Sirius Black and his friends. You were shunned.

✦ But you could handle it. 

✦ You chose your new friendships over those with clossed-minds and chose to better your education. 

✦ However, it wasn’t just because of your friendship with Remus that you didn’t care about what the other Slyrtherins had to say. It was because you had a deep and maddening crush for him. 

✦ You actually became good friends with Lily Evans - and so much so that you felt that you could tell her what’s been going on. 

✦ Lily did some sleuthing and found out that Remus wasn’t even using the potions. It wasn’t Wolfsbane potion that he asked for, no, it was a random sleeping draft that he never used. 

✦ Relationship tropes:   > You are the morally ambiguous person for Remus, that will cause chaos/ maybe even do some crimes just so he can feel like he’s keeping his morals in tact  > Flirty (you) x Flustered (Remus)

𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐻𝑜𝑔𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠

⭑ Your life with Remus is a stable one. Well, as much as it can be in Wizarding World with Voldemort at large. 

⭑ Remus likes his life safe, secure, stable. He doesn’t like too much adventure; living vicariously during his Hogwarts’ years. 

⭑ Making cups of tea, coffee or hot chocolate for each other. And while you bring it over to the other, you kiss their cheek. 

⭑ Always, and I mean always, having chocolate in the house. 

⭑ Speaking of houses, you guys live in a beautiful cottage, near a patch of forest that isn’t too far from a creek. 

⭑ You want some chickens, some dogs and cats but Remus is hesitant. He doesn’t want to put anyone, anything in danger. Especially if there’s a chance he wouldn’t be able to take his potion, if somehow it doesn’t work. 

⭑He was even hesitant to move in with you - to progress your relationship. He didn’t want such a gorgeous creature like yourself, to ever come into harms way. Especially from him. 

⭑I can totally see you as the couple who is like, person A (you) keeps bringing person b rocks, or sticks, or pretty things they’ve found on the ground and gifts it to person b (remus) who always keeps them

⭑ Is definitely the one who calms you down

⭑ Another dynamic for your relationship: 

person a (you) is always dedicated to love and care while person b (remus) is scared of it - in the sense that he doesn’t want to hurt those that are close to him

⭑ Taking his clothes .. his sweaters are so cozy and so warm and they smell like him

⭑ Laying in bed together and watching him sleep. You delicately trace lines over his face, his nose, his cheeks. 

⭑ Him asking you to marry him. He would never want to grow old with anyone else. 

#remus lupin #remus lupin headcanons #dating would include #harry potter headcanons #harry potter marauders era #marauders headcanon #joseph quinn #joe quinn #fancast #remus lupin fancast #harry potter #harry potter fancast #headcanons #boyfriend headcanons

[elisysd]

Marry me?

Masterlist

Four years and a half after Paris

Ethan and Julia - 29 years old

They hadn’t gone to Singapore other than for work. So when Julia had asked Ethan if he wanted to spend a few days there, as a sort of trip down memory lane, he had been surprised. Surprised but very happy. It was always a place that bore a lot of history and a lot of meaning for him. He didn’t know how but Julia had managed to book the exact room they were in when the lines had started to blur.

They had spent their few days of break, wandering the streets, trying new foods and visiting places they had never gone to. They had laughed, they had talked, they had taken cute and silly pictures together, promising to find them a nice place on the wall, they had kissed and loved each other, they had reminisced a lot and reflected on their life.

“What would you say to the Julia of five years ago?” Ethan asked as they were sitting on a bench in a park.

“I would tell her to trust the process. And I would give her a nice slap because god, was she stupid!”

“I will not deny or confirm this affirmation.” he laughed, kissing the side of her head.

“But I don’t regret it. At the end of the day, we are better people now. All the hardships and everything, it wasn’t for nothing.”

“I would have liked to not have my heart completely shattered in the process, though. But you’re right. I’m proud of us.”

“I planned a little something for us… it’s not for no reason that I asked if you wanted to come to Singapore.” she confessed.

“It’s okay to feel nostalgic, Joolsie. And I can’t wait to see whatever you brought us here for.”

She smiled and got up, holding out her hand for you to take it and he followed her lead. They ended up in an area that was unknown to Ethan and he strangely looked at her. It was a dead-end street, between two buildings.

“I feel your confusion.” she stated.

“Where are we?”

“This is where the paddock for the Grand Prix is built. And this is where your ice bath was five years ago.” she explained.

“I see, the famous ice-bath. But I see none, here.”

“My point is, you’ve always said that Singapore was the starting point of our story. That it held a lot of meaning for us and I think you’re right, somehow. I’ve started falling in love with you here, and I want to keep falling for you there. You’re my safe space Ethan, you’re grounding me, you’re the only person who knows my deepest and darkest secrets and fears. Truth be told, I don’t want to share them with anyone but you. You complete me, you’re my better half. And if I want to run, I want to run to you. If I want to cry, I hope it will always be in your arms. If I want to laugh, I want to hear you by my side. I want to keep loving you, I want to grow old with you. So Ethan Verstappen, would you be okay with becoming my husband and allowing me to annoy you for the rest of our lives?” she ended up asking, getting a little box out of her pocket.

The ring was everything Ethan loved. Simple, black with a few sparkling diamonds engraved in it. It wouldn’t stand out next to the ones he was already wearing.

“Can you please, say something, I’m starting to freak out.”

“Yes. A million times, yes, Julia. Of course I want to be your husband.” he replied as she was putting the ring around his finger. “I love you. More than anything and I have to tell you that I was actually planning something at the end of the season. I’ve already bought the ring. You were just faster than me in proposing.”

“So, we’re really going to do it… We really are getting married.” she whispered as Ethan pressed his forehead against hers.“You’re stuck with me, Joolsie. But this time, you chose it.'' He kissed her like he had never kissed her before.

Author's note: A little announcement might be coming up later on today.... stay tuned, hehehe.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

#writing #fiction #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen

[cassifictional]

Revenge tastes sweet - Sevika x reader

sfw, 1k words, g/n reader

Part 1 of 6 of funny business, some short fics I’ll be posting soon. Similar setup to the previous short fics I’ve posted. Not to be taken too seriously. Please enjoy ♥️

One warm summer night, you were accompanying Sevika to The Last Drop for a few card games. Although you had tried to convince her to stay home and read your new favorite book with you, she had somehow managed to persuade you into coming along. As much as she enjoyed those quiet nights at home with you, she always got restless after a few days, often resulting in a trip or two to The Last Drop. Now that you two were together, her previously favorite destination, the brothel, thankfully wasn’t on her mind anymore. But you hoped the book you two had been reading together still was.

“Just to make sure,” you hesitantly spoke up, “you still like our book, right? Because I personally really like it.”

“I do.” Sevika replied. “For the most part. I’m just not feeling it tonight.”

She glanced over to you. “Plus, the main character has really been pissing me off. She’s reckless and annoying.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually just said that.” you said, highly offended.

“I’m right, and you know it.”

“She’s not reckless and annoying, she’s just impulsive and inexperienced! It’s called a personality, Sev.”

By now, you had arrived at The Last Drop. Passing the queue in front of the building without even sparing it a glance, you both walked straight to the entrance.

“Sure. Sounds familiar.” she snickered as she opened the door for you.

Loud music and the familiar smell of alcohol and shimmer hit you hard, but as always you got used to it fast. A few men sitting in Sevika’s favorite corner of the bar waved at her, ready to take on the champion herself and, predictably and inevitably, lose all their money to her.

“Why don’t you go order us the first round, sweetheart.” she said, sending you on the way to the bar with a light smack on your ass. She walked off to the men waiting for her, who were still blissfully ignorant to the fact that they were about to be absolutely decimated.

You grumpily shuffled towards the bar, still offended over Sevika calling your favorite character reckless and annoying.

“There’s layers to a character, Sev. YOU out of all people should know that.” you muttered to yourself as you arrived at the bar. Quickly considering the variety of cocktails you could order for yourself, an idea struck you. You waved over the person behind the bar and ordered the first round of drinks, setting your plan in motion.

Less than a minute later, you walked up to Sevika and her skeevy companions for the night. With a mischievous smile on your face, you sat down on Sevika’s lap and swung your arms around her shoulders. She immediately sensed your impish aura and looked at you suspiciously.

“What’s with that look?”

“Nothing! Don’t get distracted now, it’s your turn!” you grinned, directing her attention back to the game.

While she reluctantly continued to ponder the cards in her hand, she failed to notice the very nervous waiter beside her. You looked up at them, holding a tray with the first round of drinks, and nodded at them to put it down on the table. As soon as the glasses hit the table, the waiter damn near ran off, not even bothering to stick around for a tip.

Sevika still hadn’t noticed the drinks as you reached out to grab yours: a pretty, bright neon Blue Lagoon with a slice of lime on the rim. Three glasses of whiskey for Sevika’s companions, who somehow seemed hesitant to take their first sips. With your other hand, you reached out for the remaining glass on the table.

“Sev, here’s that drink you told me you wanted to try.” you said loudly enough for everyone at the table to hear.

Sevika looked up from her cards. In front of her was the most obnoxiously pink drink she had ever laid her eyes upon. It had pink candy sugar on the rim, small red berries floating in it and smelled like a candy shop. Neatly placed through a lemon slice on the rim was a tiny pink parasol.

The furious glance she shot you told you all you needed to know. You were going to regret this later. But right now? Totally worth it. The men at the table were met with a similarly furious glance when they dared to softly snicker at Zaun’s scariest lady being handed the girliest drink known to (wo)mankind.

“Drink up! I’m sure it’ll taste as good as it looks.” you grinned, reveling in her annoyance with you.

Without any hesitation, she grabbed the glass out of your hand and chugged the entire thing in one go, berries and all. She slammed it down onto the table, clearly done with your shit. Before she continued though, she took a second to remove the tiny parasol from the lemon slice and place it down on the table in front of her, comically slowly. Then, she reached out for her cards again and slammed those down on the table as well. Game over. For the men. She had won.

The men groaned in defeat, handing over their first round of coins.

“I don’t know, boys.” you said, mysteriously. “I think it might have been the drink. It has something in it that.. enhances your skills.”

Your suggestion was met with skeptical looks. But after losing another round, then another, Sevika’s companions got desperate. Eventually, they saw only one last resort.

That drink. That damn pink drink. It was the key. It had to be.

Two hours later, you were nagging Sevika to come home with already. You were getting bored.

As you stood up to follow Sevika out the door, you looked back at the table you had spent your evening at. Dozens of glasses with remnants of bright pink drink in them, all adorned with cute little parasols. Three men passed out at the table, smelling like sugar and bubblegum, their wallets empty and their dreams crushed.

“Don’t tell anyone, but..” Sevika said as you were walking home together, her pockets full of coins from a successful evening of humiliating some fools. She was twirling the little pink parasol between her fingers. “That drink? I’m gonna order it again the next time.”

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #arcane x reader #arcane imagines #Cat writes #Cat tries to be funny #Used the wrong tags lol