#which is apparently exactly my jam

[suzukiblu]

thinking of fully-not-cryptid tim still being horny about kon making shinies, because both 1) incredibly cool display of scientific understand and superpowers and 2) kon clearly thinks that he would appreciate them, and he’s making them solely for that purpose, and that just does something for him

You may or may not be tapping into something I am trying to tap into with the actual fic version here, lol. In fact, have a lil' excerpt along those lines:

"I got you something else too," he says eagerly, jamming a hand into his jacket pocket and then pulling something shiny out of it and holding it out in offering. Tim takes it on reflex, which is a stupid reflex, but Superboy just looks so excitedly hopeful that he does it without thinking. It's a crystal-clear and faceted rock with an unmistakably heart-like shape to it, and it sparkles brightly in the late-night Gotham moonlight. It's not a particularly big rock, but it'd be a pretty damn big gemstone. Which–if Tim didn't know better, he'd think Superboy had just handed him a perfectly flawless fifty-carat diamond. But that would be insane, because a diamond this size and quality would be worth a good five million dollars, if not significantly more, and– "I made it," Superboy says, his face turning a little pinker than the cold night air up here should account for with a half-Kryptonian, even one whose full powerset allegedly isn't in yet. "Like, I mean, I sat in a volcano and crushed some carbon and cut it with my TTK so it'd look nice and then–I just thought maybe you'd like that kind of thing? Birds like shiny stuff, right? And like, you're kind of . . . bird-ish, right?" . . . okay then, Tim thinks as he stares blankly at the custom-cut, custom-crafted diamond in his clawed gauntlet. He has absolutely no idea how he feels about this situation. "Ishhhhh," he says, then sort of just . . . disappears five million dollars of "shiny stuff" into the tattered folds of his cape and inside his hidden utility belt, because Superboy seems really invested in him liking it and also he apparently literally made it, which Tim is just . . . gonna need a moment about, maybe. Superboy's only existed for five months, two weeks, and six days. Exactly how long does it take to learn how to telekinetically cut a diamond? Much less one this flawless? Like . . . percentage-wise, how much of his life so far did Superboy just spend on learning how to make him a fifty-carat heart-shaped diamond? Just . . . mathematically-speaking and all.

#astralscar #meta ecetera #timkon #wip: a fake cryptid and a real romantic

[randombush3]

as promised, here’s the sneak peek. the second part should be out sometime soon, though i can’t tell you exactly when 😬

“Feliz cumpleaños,” you say with a pronounced failure and a hilariously concentrated expression. Alexia giggles, and the storm cloud above her dissipates, but the kiss she wants to press to your lips will have to wait. There’s somewhere empty just around the corner, and she tugs your hand to get you to come with her – to match the same haste she has – but you don’t. “Al coche. So we can go to your casa.”

Her eyebrows raise.

“It’s your birthday,” you explain, stepping towards her so that the people around you see a couple instead of two women walking in a vague direction. Alexia swallows, body tingling at your proximity. Her body always tingles when you stand near her like this. “It’s your birthday, so I am here for the night. My flight is tomorrow.”

She understands you entirely.

She all but drags you to her car.

Alexia does not even remember what it’s like to be miserable. She is set alight by your presence, by your lips, your hands, your soft greeting that you whisper in her ear when she pulls away to drive you to her flat. It’s a new place, and she is free from the fuss of her mother.

You smile when she pulls you out, taking your bulging handbag in one hand and grasping yours with the other, and she kisses that smile as she presses you against the mirror in the lift. The bag hits the floor with a thud, your overnight things spilling out because of her carelessness, but you pay the rolling Dior lipstick no mind, too caught up in the way her tongue swirls in your mouth. How her hands grip your waist.

She’s stronger than last time. She gets stronger every day: she is going to be the best footballer in the world. She is dedicated to her sport.

Your palms travel up the back of her t-shirt, cold from the metal you’d previously had them pressed against. Alexia flinches as your fingers brush a particular spot, the skin there slightly raised.

“¿Que pasó?” you ask, head tilted to the side as she draws back, panting. “Are you hurt?”

She examines your eyes. Deeply inquisitive. Full of something that may resemble love in the future.

Alexia smiles – an expression that she wears mostly when she is thinking about you. You watch as she turns around, the lift jerking to a halt as if to hurry up her slow movements. As she lifts up her t-shirt, you eye the tattoos you are aware decorate her back. There are going to be more someday, she has always been clear about that.

And, oh.

You’re not usually so attached. Alexia, it’s apparent, is a complete exception.

She asks you if you like it. You lean forward, and kiss the four words (she must have researched the quote, because you excluded the last when you mentioned it), tongue running over the redness as if you are going to heal the irritation. She moans quietly, more surprised than anything else.

“Do I get the credit for it?” She shakes her head, which you catch in the mirror opposite, and, before you can voice your protest, she is facing the right way again and kissing you as she leads you to her door. “You know, there’s another quote from him that I much prefer to that one. ‘Labor omnia vincit improbus’ is… Do you know the word workaholic?” Again, her head shakes. She backs you against the wall next to her door, lips attached to your neck as you keen under her touch.

She slots her leg between yours, and you forget your next sentence.

It’s a heated kiss. It promises tonight’s activities to you, and you cannot wait for her to unlock her door.

Your lips run along her neck as she jams her key into the lock. You suck and bite, spurred on by the moans she bites back with a clenched jaw. You find it sexy: her determination to get you inside. And it’s her birthday, after all. She deserves it. You have another gift for her in your bag, but she is grateful for this anyway.

“Inside,” she gasps as you smooth your tongue over the newly-created hickey you just gave her, kicking her door wide open and hauling you through the gap.

The flat is pitch black, but Alexia knows it well enough to chuck your bag towards the dining table and have you on your way to the bedroom without needing to switch any lights on. But your hands wander, and she gets distracted. She stops you in the middle of the flat, only half a second into your journey, and her life feels so full (especially when you moan like that). The room feels so full.

The room is full.

The room is…

“Moltes felicitats, moltes felici–”

#woso imagines #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #randombush3

[ticktockheartstop]

I haven’t seen anyone point this out but, uh, there’s something(s) suspicious about “Muriel’s Perfectly Plucky Playlist.”

Yes, it’s a cute playlist of upbeat songs whose first lyrics perfectly spell out “Hello, hello, hello,” reminding us of our cheerful little angel from season 2. But let me first point out that “plucky” is not necessarily a perfectly happy word.

As anyone in the Good Omens fandom should know, Heaven is not a very happy place, and I think that’s why people love Muriel so much. They have managed to keep a very positive attitude amidst an oppressive regime in which they are VERY low on the totem pole. But it is really sad to have the fact that Muriel has had to be so determined and courageous in the face of difficulties blatantly pointed out, especially since it’s kinda easy to think of Muriel as a happy little child of an angel. Who would ever want to hurt them? (Michael and Uriel and the Metatron and everyone else in Heaven, apparently)

So, back to the playlist itself: we start out with very happy songs, which is all great and to be expected from Muriel. BUT THEN “Dog Days Are Over” by Florence + the Machine comes along, and…. Well…

With that meaning behind the song, you start to wonder if Muriel is really listening to the lyrics, or if they’re just jamming to the happy, upbeat rhythms and notes of the song. (Much like Neil said about the Almighty enjoying The Sound of Music for the nuns and singing and ignoring everything else)

Next on the playlist is Everyday by Buddy Holly, which we are all very familiar with at this point. The song itself is about waiting for love and the hope that love will persevere. With Gabriel and Beezlebub, love did persevere, so I can only hope that it will for Muriel someday as well. It’s just sad to think of our lonely little angel waiting to be loved.

Song number 8 is Another One Bites the Dust, which I think is the least traditionally happy and upbeat song on the playlist. Just take a closer look at the lyrics:

Not a happy song! And the lyrics that really stick out to me are: “how do you think I’m going to get along/without you when you’ve gone?/you took me for everything that I had/and kicked me or on my own” because that’s exactly what the Metatron and Heaven did to Muriel! I think our angel is harboring some serious bitterness!

This point is only farther supported by the next song, Demi Lovato’s cover of “Let It Go.” The fact that it is Demi’s version is significant, because there are some different lyrics than those heard on the Disney movie.

These lyric changes make the already rebellious, freeing song even more so. And we all know that the Good Omens team didn’t choose this version by mistake.

So, what have we learned? I think Muriel is going to see some serious character development, and become quite an important player in season 3. Either that or this is just further proof that all angels are traumatized (or both!)

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens theory #muriel #Muriel’s perfectly plucky playlist #good omens playlist #neil gaiman #hello hello hello #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #good omens season 3 #angels #quelin sepulveda #good omens season 1 #go2 #go2 spoilers

[v-ternus]

His Creation Myth

Nice little MountainDew I wrote that got me out of a writing slump. For @forlorn-crows , because of your kind tags on my last Mountain fic.

MDNI

~1900

tags: water Dew, virgin Dew, handjob, alot of praise, Mountain is absolutely whipped, nice mention of a little aftercare

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Freshly summoned Dew has a quiet movie night with Mountain, and lets all pretend that he's never done anything before. A problem arrises, and good boy Mount has to help him.

Below for your consumption.

It was just supposed to be movie night, a welcoming night so to speak with some snacks and lighthearted conversation. Mountain wanted a relaxed moment with the new summon. But things went sideways halfway through watching Nemo of all things. 

Dew had started feeling a weird heat pooling in his stomach. Before long, the slight pressure from the throw pillow on his lap was becoming excruciating. He sat there, with a pit of worry blooming deep in his chest, before finding the courage to raise the pillow a little. He finds a tent in his sweatpants with a small, darkening wet spot. The hot ache occupying his midsection combined with whatever this was made him feel like he was dying. 

He was apparently staring for too long, because Mountain had to interrupt his non-attention. 

“Something wrong?” Mountain’s words may as well be cracks of thunder, they spooked him and he stupidly jammed the pillow into his lap to hide his problem. It visibly makes him wince, which doesnt help Mountain’s brewing suspicions. 

“Nothing!” He says, too quickly, that it was definitely unusual. Mountain looks at him with those obnoxiously kind, green eyes, a stare that wasn't going to let Dew avoid confessing his problem. Dew was very new to life topside, he was fresh, but Mountain had already taken a liking to him. He could read him pretty well and had learned most of his tells. 

“It's written all over your face Dew, come on. You’re new, you couldn't have run into too many problems yet, I can guarantee that I’ve dealt with whatever it is,” 

The pleading and genuine concern was making things more difficult for Dew. His dick was really aching and he didn't know why, or how to fix it, how to make himself feel better. For all he knew, he could be dying, he had never dealt with this in the pit. Maybe something went wrong during his summoning, maybe his vessel was defective. Regardless, something was very, very wrong. 

Mountain pauses the movie and moves to face Dew, again asking what's wrong. His undivided attention makes Dew’s face hold a bright shade of red, hot shame working down his spine. He tries to curl in on himself further but ends up pushing the pillow down again. The harsh friction makes tears pool in the corners of his eyes. 

Mountain can smell his distress, astringent and bitter. He uses a finger to raise his chin up to bring them face to face. He’s left staring at a pair of eyes screwed tight. 

“Bug?” Dew’s breath hitches. The endearing nickname was the final nail in the coffin. 

Dew finally lets the words out with a whine, “It really hurts,”

“What does?” As far as he’s noticed, nothing had happened to Dew in recent days, and definitely nothing happened in the two hours they’ve been hanging out. He couldn't drum up a moment where he could’ve gotten hurt. 

Dew doesn't even really know what’s hurting, he cant really explain it, so his only option is to show Mountain. Once he moves the pillow, Mountain knows exactly why Dew is hurting. 

“Oh…” He swears he tried to keep his voice neutral so as to not alarm Dew, but he failed miserably. If anything, the way he said it further convinced Dew that something about this was bad, that it would be hard to fix. 

“What do you mean oh?! You have to help me. I think I fucked up Mountain.” A new scent quickly invades Mountain’s senses, it reeks of burnt wood and venom— fear. His brain is quickly wiped clean of any joke, realizing that Dew really has no clue what’s happening. 

“Calm down Dew, you’re perfectly fine,”

“How am I possibly fine?” The tears have started to fall against his rosy cheeks, leaving trails down to his jaw then neck. 

“You’ve really never…?” Mountain desperately needs the full picture, needs Dew to confirm his suspicions. Dew shakes his head, messily wiping off tears that wont stop falling.

“I know how to fix this,” Its Mountains turn to blush. He’s worried that he’s taking advantage of Dew in such an unknowledgeable state, but he’d be lying to himself if he said that this didn't make him throb in his own pants. The chance to relieve him, to teach him for the first time. The notion turned him into a puddle. 

He cradles Dew’s face, dragging his thumb across the tear streaked cheek. The warmth makes Dew loosen his eyes a bit, it takes him off the edge just enough so he can breathe. 

“You need to tell me if anything feels worse ok? Really Dew.” Dew sighs, hopeful for relief. 

“Ok,” Its a quick whisper, he follows it up with a nod just to make sure. His eyes are still shut, he doesn’t know what the cure is and he definitely doesn't know what Mountain is about to do. So he waits patiently, waits for whatever is supposed to make him feel better. 

What he doesn't expect is his shirt being lifted off and a new pressure surrounding his cock. The sudden contact makes him hiss. His eyes shoot open to see Mountain’s eyes locked on his crotch with his large hand palming over it. 

Pain floats around in his mind, he’s sensitive. He didn't think the pain could get worse, but it did. And it was torture. But it was steadily being replaced by a comforting warmth the more Mountain kneaded at him, so he didnt say stop. 

“I’ll show you Dew, how to make yourself feel good,” He drags a thumb over the larger wet spot, slowly, right over the tip, making a point to press down on where he thinks the slit is. Dew jolts and reaches for the offending hand, clamping around his wrist. 

“—feels like you’re lighting me on fire. Hurts.”

“Sorry,” He doesn't mean to tease, not now, but he just can't help it. It's built into him like his magic. It's stronger than second nature. He studies Dew’s face when he goes back to gentle touches. Takes in how his jaw has gone slack, how his pale blue eyes watch on with awe while Mountain touches him.

He gives one last tender squeeze before gently wiggling his arm out of Dew’s grasp. He hooks a finger into Dew’s sweatpants and works it down to his mid thigh, just enough to get it out of the way. Just enough to catch a glimpse of the offending member. 

He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he saw— a heavy cock that bounced against his stomach right under his belly button, leaking pre onto his little happy trail. Its nicely thick and long enough that the head would sit nicely in his throat if he got the chance to wrap his lips around Dew. 

“I’ll teach you everything Dew. You just have to let me.”  He wraps his hand around Dew’s cock and he feels it twitch, kicking against his hand. As well endowed as Dew is, he looks embarrassingly small in Mountain’s grasp. He wants to make a remark, make Dew blush even more by telling him just how small he is, but he tucks that fantasy away, for now. Dew’s cock is so red that it's almost purple, he understands then, why he shed tears. 

“It’s so much Mount,”

“Give it time Dew.”

He starts to stroke him, root to tip, lightly gliding over the head and Dew yelps each time. Soon, the drag of his hand fills the room with wet noises. The only other noise is a stream of ‘Ah, Ah, Ah’ falling from the little ghouls mouth.

“Your body already knows what to do, bug, look at how wet you are,” Dew moans, high and feminine. His eyes catch on his slicked thighs and hips, noticing how he they shine with the light dim light of the tv. Mountain's brain is enamored by how he looks like a star as he comes apart in his hands, by how pretty Dew sounds.

The previously overwhelming sensation has bled into indescribable pleasure, Mountain is towing Dew back from the thin line between pleasure and pain. With the relief, he starts to relax, his muscles go numb. 

The earth ghoul recites a silent prayer to whatever is out there. He prays that he’ll be the only one to ever hear his siren sing, that Dew will be his— that Dew would let himself be his.

The easiest support is against Mountain’s chest, so he uses it, leaning against the supple flesh while Mountain snakes his hand up onto the nape of his neck, dragging his nails over his scalp. He holds Dew close, relishes in his warm breath against him. 

Dew starts to roll his hips, jerky and uncoordinated, until he finds a rhythm. He thrusts up to meet the tight fist around him while Mountain uses his finger to pet at the sensitive spot under the head. 

“Good Dew, take what you want,” Mountain watches as even more slick drips out of Dew, it quickly reminds him of his soft spot for water ghouls.

Dew’s rhythm starts to falter and the muscles in his toned thighs start to twitch. Mountain can see it, hell he can damn near taste it, Dew was close.

A tightness forms deep in Dew's stomach, he’s about to have his first orgasm, ever. And the best part? He doesn't even know it. 

“Mountain, what is this? Its- Mount its…” He’s been reduced to a mumbling mess, devoid of any coherent thought thanks to Mountain’s ministrations. All he can do is cling to Mountain like he's his only chance at salvation, which in this moment, he really is.

“Just let it happen Dew, let go for me.”

Mountain tightens his hand and jerks him off faster, twisting when he gets to the tip and rubbing his palm into the head to polish it for good measure. He’s trying his hardest to snap the wound up band in Dew. 

Dew cums without a sound, save for the yelp of him choking on his own breath. He keeps nuzzling his face into the column of Mountain’s neck, grazing his fangs over the tender flesh. All he can smell is his earthy scent, laced with pine and lavender.

He has an unexplainable urge to bite, he wants to sink his teeth in, but he clamps down on his own lip instead. A tinge of copper hits his tongue as he breaks skin. His fingers stay wound up tight in the earth ghoul’s shirt, feeling like he would drift away without the tether. 

Mountain feels like luck is raining down on him as he gets to watch the birth of something he can only describe as celestial. He basks in the glory of Dew discovering pleasure, realizing desire, he watches as Dew fully becomes one with sin. He cant peel his eyes off of the cum spilled over his fingers, speckled along the small hairs of Dew’s happy trail.

Mountain keeps stroking him, working him through everything gently. Once Dew goes soft, he rests his dick gently against his thigh before wiping his mess off on his sheets. He pulls Dew into his lap, ignoring the stickiness that'll inevitably dry uncomfortably between them, and pulls him tight against his chest while leaning against the headboard. He feels Dew’s heavy breath, the deep rise and fall of his chest against his own. 

Dew shifts his leg and unknowingly nudges Mountain’s own throbbing cock, it makes him gasp. But his brain doesn’t recognize it beyond that, it doesnt care about his release. All his brain can think of is the twitching ghoul in his arms.

“Fuck, Mount. Fucking hell.”

“Was that ok? Are you ok?” Mountain expects a simple yes, but Dew’s answer is better than he could’ve imagined. 

“Teach me more sometime.” He feels him further sag into his chest, feeling hopeful for the future. He places a kiss against his hairline and catches his scent again. This time, Dew smells like petrichor and a breeze along a shoreline, sweet and light— happiness.

Dew resting on him makes him feel flayed open, like his raw nerves are being singed one by one. His brain is draped in the sensation— he can’t imagine a life without it.

They’ll eventually get up and when they do, he’ll run a bath for the both of them. He’ll lay Dew on top of him in the tub with his back to his solid chest. He’ll lean his chin on Dew’s bony shoulder and whisper about how good he was, how this is what he deserves each and every time he ever lays with someone. He’ll pepper the side of his face with soft kisses as he mumbles words of thanks, immensely grateful that Dew trusted him with something so special. They’ll stay till the water runs cold. 

He hopes Dew falls asleep tucked into his side. 

#nameless ghouls #ghost band #the band ghost #dewdrop ghoul #fire ghoul #mountain x dewdrop #dew ghoul #ghost band fanfic #vee writes #mountain ghost #mountain ghoul #dew ghost #dewdrop ghost #ghost bc #water dewdrop #mountain dew #mountain dew ghost #mountdew #earth ghoul

[maokomi]

ᥫ᭡ Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

.ೃ࿔*:･ 「𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬.」 gn reader, sweetheart boyfriend Childe, modern AU, gooey lovey-dovey feelings, established relationship

Inspired by, of all things, a hypothetical situation presented by my Philosophy professor. So thanks, sir Louise. 

You step out of the airport terminal, gaze fixed on your phone. Around you, people bustle past you and your luggage like a river around a stone. Some grumble and give you stink eyes for being too slow, but you pay them no mind, one string away from snapping.

“Damn it,” you grumble, fiddling with your phone and the taxi-booking app you’ve got open. There’s urgency and annoyance behind the force in which you jam your fingers against the screen, scowling down at the ‘Fully Booked! Please wait a moment’ that’s been flashing across your screen in garish red letters for the past five minutes. 

It’s too fucking early for this— the sun is barely over the horizon, and you can practically hear the entire community waking up with a groggy yawn. You’re tired from the flight, hungry, jet lagged and frankly you just want to meet your boyfriend at home and take a long, long nap and waste the morning away. But apparently the rest of these sleep-deprived travelers also have a similar goal— and they’ve even beaten you to the commute, too.

You don’t give up for another few minutes, frantically refreshing the app in hopes that your luck will turn around, but no dice. With a defeated sigh, you jam the phone back into your pocket, a hand reaching to your temple to soothe the incoming headache. All it takes is a few seconds for you to resign yourself to your fate of having to take the overcrowded bus back home. Hopefully the archons smile down on you and you get to sit beside someone decent. Not someone overly interested in getting your number. Or a person who spends the entire ride back on their phone, obnoxiously yelling into their device. You shudder. With the way your morning is going, it’d be just your luck that that’s exactly who you end up beside.

Not for the first time, you let yourself think about calling Childe to pick you up, but you quickly chase the thought away. 

It’s tempting. So, so tempting. 

He’s probably in bed right now, warm under the covers. He’d probably recognize your specific ringtone, would pick up in a heartbeat even if he’s half asleep. And you already know that he’d half-heartedly whine about it being so early in the morning, even if you both know that he’s already pulling on some going-out clothes and looking for his car keys.

Childe would drop everything and anything if you ask, which is exactly why you don’t want him picking you up. Because, if your past calls are anything to go by, he’s been having a rather rough week himself, and you’d rather brave a packed bus and motion sickness than willingly pull him away from some well deserved rest.

Thoughts of your boyfriend, happily enjoying his day off steel your resolve, and with a resolute nod to your head, you begin to turn to the airport bus stop.

Then a whistle cuts through the air and —like some fucking drama— it’s as if the crowd parts and Childe, all bed-headed and grinning, is leisurely jogging up to you.

All you can do at first is stare at him in surprise because what the fuck you must be more tired than you thought,  you’re actually full-on hallucinating now. 

But Childe easily comes over, one hand immediately going for the handle of your luggage, the other wrapping around your middle. He pulls you into a one-armed hug, pressing a soft, fond kiss to your forehead and wow there is no way this is a hallucination.

“Hey sweetheart.” Childe grins at you when you pull away to look at him, almost looking amused at how bewildered you are.

And you, ever so jet lagged and exhausted, can only managed to say: “You… you’re here. Uh. Hi.”

“Hey.” You can practically hear the grin in his voice. For good measure, he plants a kiss on your nose. “What, you really thought I wouldn’t be able to come pick you up? Didn’t know you think so little of me, babe.”

You splutter, not even able to form proper words aside from the occasional ‘Wh—‘ that you manage to get out.

“Your google account is still logged in on my phone,” Childe says to your unverbalized question. He shrugs apologetically as begins gently leading you in the direction he came, a hand guiding you at the small of your back. “Didn’t mean to snoop, I swear, but when the email with your flight details came in I saw the time and had a feeling you were planning to hoof it without telling anyone. Which, by the way—“

He pinches your side. Not enough to hurt, but you yelp at the surprise of it.  

“—not super smart when you have a very willing boyfriend with a car ready to pick you up at the drop of a hat.”

You sigh, jabbing him back with an elbow, but all he does is grin wider. “You said you were tired! I didn’t wanna drag you out of bed or anything.”

“Well then consider me very willingly leaving the bed of my own volition, then.”

You roll your eyes, about to voice another argument that is more just for petty, affectionate bickering than actual argument, when Childe pauses and pulls you close, silencing you with a kiss to the crown of your head. You can feel the fond grin he wears.

“Missed you, sweetheart. Let’s get you home, then we can both go back to bed, okay?”

#swan feathers ♡.ೃ࿔*:· #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #childe

[sunnyrealist]

🌶️ Chapter 28: Stress Relief 🌶️

The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars

Summary and Details…

Chapter Background and Summary: Sebastian's partner on assignment for the Kelpies gang attempted to drown a child to entice his mother to give up a Time Turner (a new invention) hidden in their home. Sebastian took the Time Turner from her and was able to save the boy just in the nick of time. Sebastian was reprimanded by Mr. Rees Cuddy, the leader of the Kelpies, for doing so, but he was also rewarded for delivering the Time Turner. Sebastian is now going to be put in charge of safeguarding the Time Turner until the Kelpies have figured out how it works and how exactly they will use it. His mind is reeling with this information, along with processing the events that led to acquiring the magical item. This chapter takes place the following day after work when Kate and Sebastian get to see each other again.

Pairing: Aged-up, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x Kate Mayflower (my OC)

Content warnings: In general, this story is rated 18+, so MNDI! This chapter features rough doggy-style sex, including very light choking.

The full chapter is available below the cut; it can also be found on AO3 (link is posted below). Any feedback is appreciated. A comment, like, or Kudos would make my day!

Chapter 28: Stress Relief

When Kate arrives home from work on Wednesday, she shuts the door, walks into her bedroom, picks up one of her pillows, and screams into it.

It had quite possibly been one of the worst days she had ever had in the Hogwarts library.

Pretty much everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong.

She flops onto her bed, clutches a pillow, assumes the fetal position, and begins to cry.

She is sniffling into a handkerchief when she hears a knock on the door and then the most welcome voice in the entire world.

“Kate?” Sebastian calls. “Are you home?”

“Yes,” she responds loudly. “I’m in the bedroom.”

He enters the room with a huge bouquet of sunflowers, a huge smile on his face, but it drops almost immediately when he sees her tear-stained face. 

“Merlin’s beard,” he gasps. “What’s wrong?”

He leaves the bouquet on her dresser, then sits next to her on the bed and takes her hands, his face filled with concern.

“Everything at work,” she replied somberly. “Terrible day.”

Sebastian rubs her hands soothingly. “I’m so sorry, my love. What happened? Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Agnes announced that she is definitely not retiring this year. I caught two Gryffindors literally having sex against a bookshelf. 14-year-olds. 14-year-olds!” She paused. “I’ve never dealt with more messes in my entire career at Hogwarts. It’s like a storm came upon the library and scattered books everywhere. The students aren’t cleaning up after themselves since they know the school year is over. Plus, I found at least twenty books incorrectly shelved in the wrong sections.” 

Sebastian is about to say something until she continues.

“Peeves was shouting in the library, causing a ruckus. I caught a Slytherin trying to sneak into the Restricted Section without permission - and then he acted like I am the most strict librarian in the world! I made a jam sandwich for lunch and spilled it all over my white shirt. That was an easy fix but still just another thing that went wrong. None of my student assistants helped with anything today - apparently they were too keen to gossip instead of work. They’re just done. And Matilda Weasley informed me we were getting an influx of cursed magical artifacts to store in the Restricted Section, which of course are dangerous as hell to work with. I told her I was too nervous to catalog them, and she seemed quite disappointed in me.” She sighs dramatically.

Sebastian begins to run his hand through her hair soothingly. “My poor, sweet sun. Well… I brought you sunflowers. I thought they might make you think of how close you are to your summer holiday. Now it’s clear you need them more than ever to cheer up. What else can I do for my darling?”

“Please help me relieve stress. I don’t want to cook. I don’t want to do anything or think about anything,” Kate begs. “I’m so glad you are here, Sebastian. I need you.”

He pulls her to him, holding her close. “I’m here. Let it out. I’ll take care of you tonight.”

Sebastian spends some time thinking about what he might do to help her calm down.

After a few minutes, he claps his hands together and says, “Alright. Here’s the plan. I am going to cook dinner for us both. We’re going to drink some good wine and enjoy some dessert. I’m going to draw a nice, warm bubble bath for you, and then we’ll read in bed until… Wait, am I staying over tonight? I forgot to ask, but I brought a bag along just in case.” He waves his hands around. “No pressure - I don’t want you to stress over it at all.”

“Gods, that sounds perfect, and yes, you’re staying over. I demand it,” she replies quite seriously.

“Of course - your wish is my command, princess.” He chuckles.

This wasn’t how Sebastian envisioned the evening going, but he’s happy to help her. Any time spent with her is better than the alternative.

“Seb… one more thing that might help,” she says hesitantly, putting her hand on his arm. “I need you to fuck me. Hard. Really hard. No holding back.”

Sebastian’s eyes grow wide, and he grins wickedly. “Oh, yeah? I can manage that.”

Kate screams as he pushes into her in one fell swoop, his hands gripping her hips tight as he takes her from behind. “Seb!!!”

His eyes practically roll back into his head at how tight and wet she is for him. “Oh, Merlin, Kate… feels… so good.”

Sebastian begins to stroke, not starting off slow. Soon, he’s practically leaving her body and thrusting completely in, taking her roughly. His fingernails dig into her skin as she cries out over and over again. The sounds of their bodies slapping together provide a rhythm to their moans.

After a while, he presses his chest to her back and reaches around her to squeeze her breasts tight. Continuing to rut into her, he pinches her nipples harshly, and she wails. 

“Don’t stop - don’t stop!” she begs. “Sebastian, don’t stop - please!”

“I won’t. You’re just going to have to take it,” he growls. “I need this, too.”

Sebastian’s hand slowly makes its way to her collarbone, his fingers spreading wide and closing around her neck. He squeezes - not too hard, just testing the waters, as she gasps in surprise. Deciding not to push his luck, he straightens back up, grabbing handfuls of her hair and pulling it back.

“Fuck!” he shouts out. “I’m close.”

Kate is so pleased she is actually drooling. “Mmmm…. Nnnnghhh……”

Sebastian slams into her harder, his tip kissing her cervix repeatedly. She begins to scream, and then he feels her inner walls closing around him. She’s coming. 

Finally letting go, he groans, pushing as deep inside her as possible. He knows he is going to release a huge load of cum into her. His movements become erratic, and then, he explodes.

“Kate… Kate…” he moans, staying deep inside her and moving his hips back and forth slowly until he is positive he has spilled all of his seed.

Sebastian collapses onto Kate’s back, kissing her hair and her shoulders repeatedly as he catches his breath.

“Was… was that how you wanted it, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Fuck… yes. Exactly what I needed, my moon.”

He rolls over, not wanting to crush her completely under his weight. He cups her cheek and kisses her lips deeply, then directs her to lay on his chest.

“Me, too, my sun. Me, too. Gods, I needed that. You’re not the only one who has had a bad time at work lately.”

That night, after relaxing, they both fall asleep soundly, wrapped in each other’s arms. Neither of them stirs at all until morning, when they inevitably realize how much of a challenge it is to get up together to an alarm and say goodbye quickly.

Fortunately for Sebastian, Kate never notices him chugging Wiggenweld potion that morning and walking with a slight limp from the horse bite. He wouldn’t have a clue of how to explain his bad day after hearing about hers. She’s not ready.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x oc #post azkaban sebastian #hufflepuff x slytherin #aged up sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy original character #hl sebastian #hl Sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy Sebastian sallow #hl fanfiction #hogwarts legacy smut #hl smut #Sebastian sallow smut

[oonajaeadira]

For the Love of Fic: August 21

Now that the busytimes are over, I just desperately wanted to get back to the fic world. And I may have binged a little. No punishments plz. I have a lot of catching up to do.

Also dang, there's a lot of Jack this time around. There must be whiskey in the water...

🪐 = Year of Themed Creation fic

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JOEL MILLER

Kindred Spirits by @all-the-things-2020 🪐 It's Anne of Green Gables, but with Ellie and Joel. Really, y'all, this one caught me in my chest and had me tearing up more than once watching Joel come back to life for the love of a new daughter. My heart!!!!!

Surrender Chapter 10 and Chapter 11 by @ezrasbirdie So now we've gotten to the end of Kin and I'm still tense about Joel and Ellie even if I understand that their story will lead them back to Jackson. But now I'm just worried about Daisy. She's so vulnerable, so convinced that love is an accident or will always be so fragile and fleeting, I'm so afraid she'll run from it before she has a chance for it to really sink in. I just want to smoosh her and never let her go.

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EZRA

Taking Root by @the-blind-assassin-12 This short story takes place in an existing Ezra storyline, but you don't need to know that series to appreciate this fluffy bit of lovely, heartwarming give and take between Ezra and Cee as they make a gift for someone they love and care for.

E is for Exhibition by @butchmandalorian 🪐 Pro dom!Ezra is back, my beloved, and this time it's sex in a movie theater. He is such a menace and loves his work so much. I really wish the man was real. I am not a BDSM girl, but there's just something about butchmandalorian's Ez that gets me in all the right places.

Kinktober in June: Focus by @leslie-lyman Holy balls, y'all. This is mesmerizing in every single sense of the word: a little hypno-kink will do ya. Even without his arm and his humanity, Ezra still has many skills. The ability to manipulate and get what he wants. A silken voice. Patience. And apparently, that's all you need too.

E. - "Are you sure you're ready for this?" by @missredherring A drabbled writing exercise wherein Miss Red takes the prompt out of the smut box and into a softer place. Which is totally my jam.

Miles and Time by @never--doubt 🪐 Have I said yet how much I love Ezra? Or soulmates? I've never seen this mechanic before--the one where you have numbers on your wrist counting down the distance between soulmates. I love it. There's a lifetime of angst, but man, Ezra's worth the wait.

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JACK DANIELS

Draft Release: Dial Up the Jack, Dim the Whiskey by @artemiseamoon 🪐 You know, I had the same reaction to Jack that OFC Bria does here. Initially, I thought he was ridiculous and full of ego, not worth losing my heart to. But she gets to see the Jack that's deep down inside that Whiskey persona and...well...never say never.

untitled by @brandyllyn Hi would you like to be punched in the heart with just 600 words? Why don't you read what happens when Jack comes back from taking another bullet to the skull? I feel like this could be the prologue to a story that could end up so so sweet...but damn, that last sentence is a doozy.

Saying I Love You With Flowers by @songsformonkeys 🪐 I'm not really a flower person myself, but if I was getting them from y crush constantly, I could be converted real fast. Is there anything as lovely as when Jack's both a scamp and a gentleman all at once? He's the master at it and I am a puddle at his feet.

How Wrong You Are by @haylzcyon A short and sweet piece wherein Jack professes his care in the aftermath of a sketchy getaway. Haylz is never over-saccharine, but hits all the notes just right, just like a damn fine Whiskey indeed.

Bangathon: Position: Kneeling Reach Around (with Marcus Pike) and Position: 69 by @prolix-yuy My goodness, LJ is great at the smut and I love how she writes Jack. He's a confident lover, putting the object of his affection exactly where he needs them...and where they will soon understand they need to be. He may go after what he wants, but he never pushes too hard and always makes sure it's what they really want. I would 100% want to be in this man's mustachio'ed embrace. Yee-effin-haw.

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JAVI GUTIERREZ

Music Box: Prologue by @beecastle Aw yeah, we're getting Little Mermaid AU! This is a quick prologue setting us up for wanting more--both in terms of story AND in terms of the reader character wanting to learn more about humans. I'm hoping there's a certain sweet human in her eyeline soon....

To Your Rescue by @flightlessangelwings 🪐 Oh to be in the employ of Javi Gutierrez. To have his attention, his yearning looks, his protection. Really, my favorite thing would be to fall asleep watching movies with him...and you'll get that here too.

Litha by @grogusmum 🪐 Javi and his beekeeper girl are sweet as honey and I'm not gonna shy away from saying so. I love that he appreciates her taking an interest in his hobbies and family celebrations and shows that he cares for her interests by helping her celebrate a sweet Midsummers!

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MARCUS MORENO

Taste by @@radiowallet I generally don't read Marcus but I will always ALWAYS make an enthusiastic exception for Cat's Marcus. He is a true hero, both sweet and confident, pulled so ardently by his needs but really getting off on saving the day for you. And, of course, there's Cat's style of writing which is song in itself. If anyone can make me fall in love with period sex, it's her, it's Marcus, it's this sweetly smutty fic in all its soft, yearning glory.

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TIM ROCKFORD

First Mistake by @hopeamarsu 🪐 I am really delighted by this little character study. Hopes took what we see in the trailer and turned it inward, focusing on Tim's physical sensations and trains of thought. The way he registers the take-out he's eating, how he craves the whiskey in his desk drawer, his frustration as he looks at the clue board trying to make that crucial connection. It's a beautiful little piece, simple and yet full of so much.

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PERO TOVAR

untitled by @writeforfandoms I am such a sucker for Jen's modern-not-modern Pero. He is learning, but still such a menace and a hedonist that I can't help but giggle at him and adore him in equal measure. I love when his puppydog nature rears its head like it does here as he tries to keep his reader all to himself on a nice picnicy day...

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JAVIER PEÑA

The Third Date by @lowlights What Laura has done here is pretty much described my perfect third date with Javier. I mean, it's Javi being soft, giving his attentions, doing soft naughty things in public. But even more than that, it's tacos, y'all. Sign me up.

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DIN DJARIN

Year of Small Joys: Stargazing by @keldabe-kriff 🪐 I love that Lyr is focusing on small joys. It's totally my jam to see my favorite characters just having a moment of peace or happiness, just to see their reaction to something I find lovely or to hear their thoughts about something I'd never stopped to notice. This time it's Din and stars, which really should be old hat for him. But he still finds a beauty in stargazing...

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OBERYN MARTELL

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #8: Oberyn Martell - Apology Kiss / Jealous Kissing by @something-tofightfor I might be living for this modern AU playboy Oberyn and his proclivity to be vulnerable in my presence, to open up and be real when hurt feelings are on the line. He did wrong, but I think he'll make up for it, and boy howdy do I want to be on the receiving end of that.

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SPECIAL GUEST CORNER

OBI-WAN KENOBI

A Chance Taken by @ghostofskywalker 🪐 I know that Obi-Wan has his duty, but wouldn't it be nice if he always harbored feelings and had plans to settle after the war? This one is living that dream....I wants it.

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BOROMIR

The Advice of Hobbits by @ironmandeficiency I mean, nobody should take advice from Merry and Pippin. And so it goes without saying that nobody should take love advice from Merry and Pippin. Ever. Poor Boromir. But I'm not gonna lie. The results are pretty cute.

#for the love of fic #tlou fanfic #joel miller #prospect fanfic #ezra #kingsman golden circle fanfic #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #tuwomt fanfic #javi gutierrez #wcbh fanfic #marcus moreno #star wars fanfic #obi-wan kenobi #merge mansion fanfic #tim rockford #lotr fanfic #boromir #the great wall fanfic #pero tovar #narcos fanfic #javier peña #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #got fanfic #oberyn martell

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 10. Napoleon “Leo” Usher

A/N: where is the work for my man who’s gonna do it for me every time?! This series wasn’t my fav (better than the midnight club ofc! Argue amongst yourselves) but everything was executed very well! EAT THE RICH! Anyways I’ll probably do a re-watch at some point to appreciate it better. Look at me being back on my writing kick, someone bring me a treat and by treat I mean truffle fries. Alright this is kinda late and I usually never risk writing for any of Mike’s work but here I am. Hope this doesn’t flop but with the dust in this tag makes this very likely!! Okay ✌🏽

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: A is afraid to get the Halloween decorations out of the attic or garage, fearing there’s bugs, which leaves B to do it. + Going to questionable lengths to decorate their house/apartment.

Synopsis: People can say a lot of things about Napoleon Usher but some may not be aware that he’s actually a homebody. However there’s a few places he doesn’t mind spending his time and that so happens to be at his best friend’s place, who also doesn’t mind actually putting him to work.

WARNINGS: Platonic x reader! language + dark themes/humor + mentions of s*ic*de + gender neutral friendly!

<- read my previous anthology prompt here.

⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️

[6 weeks before the fall…]

Second guessing.

That happened to be something that was always jammed into Rudelle Povea’s head ever since they were young. Their parents taught them to be curious when things didn’t feel right in their gut and many times that resulted in phone calls home for being, “too disruptive to others in class,” which really meant too annoying for teachers who just wanted to teach without mountains of inquires coming from this kid to being, “too smart-mouthed and a know it all for me,” from their maternal grandmother who eventually gained guardianship over Rudelle.

If something’s been instilled in you for the longest, it can become a habit—whether good or bad is always up for debate. Sure at times it made Rudelle feel as if they were being a bit indecisive but they always looked at life as one big question mark. They didn’t have to just simply take it for what was thrown at them. If they were prompted to question it all, then in a sense they were persuaded to see everything from all angles before going through with a final thought.

Rudelle wasn’t incapable of making a decision, never think that but they always needed all of the facts before going forth. For instance: take the death of Rudelle’s parents when they were only twelve years old back in the United Kingdom. Rudelle’s grandmother was not only controlling and cruel but she was also a really good liar that kept up with the tale of how Rudelle’s parents died. As if Rudelle would never get older and do a deep dive considering the career they went into as a pathologist assistant before Rudelle got laid off.

How convenient that they seemed to be laid off the further along they got into the reports of their parents’ apparent murder-suicide. Lots of sealed off information and blocked out text was enough for Rudelle to come to terms with their family constantly hiding but what exactly?There were always more questions than answers but there was no doubt in Rudelle’s mind that their grandmother had something to do with this.

A crack sounded at the window, bringing Rudelle out of their lengthy daze, spotting a black crow flying from their sight yet again. Rudelle didn’t waste any time, pulling out their phone to make note of the arrival of the same crow and exact date when it provided more damage to their window in the living room. Sighing they got to their feet, phone still in their hand as they got closer to the window, inspecting the cracks that seemed to get bigger each time.

After the sixth ring the line picked up.

“Leo, you coming ‘round?”

“…what’s in it for me?”

“Good company.”

“Is that a underlying proposition for us finally hooking up?” He sounds wide-awake now.

Rudelle snorts, “Keep on dreaming, mate.”

Rudelle doesn’t wait for a response as they end the call, knowing that when they called each other it was rarely for a chat since they could just text and send voice notes to each other. If they called each other it was usually within good reason—although it was a fact that Rudelle Povea and Napoleon Usher lived slightly different lifestyles.

It was about half an hour later when Napoleon shows up to Rudelle’s apartment, barely appearing, almost as if he was struggling to hold himself upright against the door.

Rudelle snickers at the dark attire and their friend’s appearance, “I’m surprised you didn’t use your key this time, why the long face? Did I ruin the post party?”

Napoleon rolls his eyes as he shoves his way inside the familiar apartment. He’s kicking off his shoes in the foyer and heads to the right to dive face first into the beige couch.

Rudelle closed the door behind the man and heads to where he is and squats beside him, “So…”

“No! I don’t want to take your fucking quiz, let me sleep.”

“I wasn’t going to ask any more about your night because I can just tell how it went,” Rudelle responds before adding, “I actually saw that crow again—

Napoleon lifts his chin to glance towards the window and sighs, “Where’s the maintenance manager when you need them? You do have that here in this unpleasant building, yeah?”

“I don’t care about the window.”

He blinks hard at Rudelle, “well you should, love. There’s what? Three cracks now and if you don’t know, they can spread and who knows what else will get into this building once the window finally decides to give way?”

“Your concern is sweet.” Rudelle’s reply is sarcastic.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Buuut! This is the crow’s third time doing that and it’s got me thinking.” Rudelle plops down on the floor, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Let me guess? About you fantasizing about being Brandon Lee’s eternal lover.” Napoleon mumbles—as if he hasn’t heard this before.

Rudelle’s been going on about this crow for a few weeks now and, “the Crow,” (1994) happened to be one of their favorite movies. The thing about Rudelle is that they always tried to find meaning and symbolism for everything. They honestly should have went into literature. Napoleon may have half-lidded eyes right now but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t ever listening. He’s known Rudelle for years, before Roderick came around and molded him into a Usher. They’ve always had a hunch for something and Rudelle wasn’t wrong about Napoleon’s father so who’s to say they would be wrong about this crow?

“No Leo…this time I’m thinking about decorating.”

Napoleon sighs as a smile appears on his face then, “I knew this day would come! There’s not much to work with but I’ve been saying this flat needs a makeover. It just doesn’t fit for you, you know? You’ve got personality and yet this still looks like a staged showing when we first toured this dreadful place. It’s boring and sort of stale—much like Tamerlane’s home now that I’ve come to think of it.”

“Whoa there, I don’t have nearly enough mirrors for us to match.”

“Funny,” Napoleon smirks a bit at the jab since that’s what it was. It’s not like he would ever blame his siblings for the way they all turned out and carried themselves, they had their father to thank for that but that also didn’t mean they were really loving towards each other either. They didn’t know what that felt like either and although Napoleon had his mother in his life, they drifted the moment she sent him here to meet Roderick at eighteen. The Usher siblings gave each other shit right to each others faces and behind each other’s backs.

Rudelle’s been around since before Napoleon gained the title of “being a usher,” so she’s seen it all and only threw in jabs to get a reaction from Napoleon. They knew to tread lightly, not out of fear but they still knew their lane and left that open for Leo to completely bash—if need be. However that still wasn’t in his nature to bash any of his half-siblings, he still saw something in them that they all shared…the torment conditions of being a usher maybe?

Believe it or not, he’s got some feelings about the mere thought of having siblings although they had their issues…there was still some level of respect beneath it all. This was just who they were, take it or leave it.

The world would most likely leave it.

Yes he was closer? If you want to use that term—to Camille and Perry but he was the one who wasn’t afraid to stand on how fucked this family is and always would be while the rest chose to shield that to the public eye.

“Which space are you thinking of first? This living room should be it since it’s the second focal point of this flat. And please don’t tell me you’re going for wallpaper? This is not the bloody 1920’s.” Napoleon spoke, resting his cheek against the back of his hand.

Rudelle shook their head, “I’m not really talking about renovations Leo. The crow’s got me thinking about Halloween decorations…which are down in the basement.”

Leo sits up instead and opens his mouth ready to respond until something catches his eyes on the coffee table. He leans over to snatch the files up, already sensing what they were before his eyes briefly scanned over them. “Ru! You’re investigating again?!”

“Well yes but this has nothing to do with my desire to be festive this time around.”

“I can’t say I believe that,” Leo shakes his head in disapproval, “this is the same shit that got you laid off from a decent pay—for your standards and now look! You’ve gone and decided to be some sort of archivist?”

“They actually haven’t called me back about that interview so…”

“And why do you think that is?”

“My nan’s got just enough pull as daddy Roderick and Auntie Madeline?”

Leo rubs at his beard in frustration, “for fucks sake I almost threw up in my mouth just then. I told you before not to refer to Roderick as that!” He glared at Rudelle who is definitely amused, knowing that irritates him then continued on, “…That could be almost true since your nan gives shady vibes too but you can’t keep doing this.”

“Why not? I’ve got nothing else better to do.” Rudelle shrugs confused before stating, “Just your unemployed friend on a Tuesday that’s keeping busy and trying to not ride on their savings.”

Leo raised his brow, “you think cracking the case on your parents’ death is somehow gonna give you income? That’s like wishing on a lucky star babe. There’s a reason you haven’t got anywhere with this and it’s been months, yeah?!”

“They were framed for a murder they probably didn’t commit which led to their deaths…if I can fix this then I can sue this shit system for if not all it’s worth then…I’ll take half.”

The determination was clear in Leo’s best friend’s eyes. They didn’t see that it was sounding a bit deranged but they had their own facts as well and if they strongly believed this then who was Leo to stomp on it? Leo didn’t know how it felt to not have two parents around but he did know how it felt to have a emotionally sad mother raising him. His mum was kind hearted to Rudelle back when they all lived in Redbridge and it certainly wasn’t out of pity, she was kind to anyone who shared the same decency to her son.

See, Napoleon’s mum is also very observant. She knew from the moment that Napoleon and Rudelle became friends (aged fourteen) that they would be able to keep each other afloat.

They were the pieces of good—more so Rudelle on the surface—that battled the bad the world laid upon them.

“Alright then…” Napoleon trailed off glancing upwards in thought, “in the mean time, you suppose decorating for Halloween will bring you clarity?”

Rudelle shrugs, “maybe. This could be a breakthrough.”

A breakthrough to just accept the job Napoleon’s been offering them since they settled into this city back when Rudelle was twenty-one. Leo’s been into gaming since he can remember, always wanted the latest games that his mother couldn’t afford at the time just to end up with it later on mercilessly. Not really—Roderick made it his job to buy his way in and taking care of Leo financially from a distance.

Yet when those eighteen years arrived and he actually met the mysterious man who tried to buy—definitely not his love—but rather his place as a Usher…Napoleon thought he was getting a chance to build a relationship with a man he didn’t know very well…but instead he was one of the shiny pieces in Roderick’s game.

Rudelle had dreams of being a geologist until she was in custody of their grandmother. They always had that woman in their ear growing up, dictating what they should be instead of what they wanted. All kids have dreams and aspirations but along the way there’s often detours. Those detours happen to be people who only saw greed and Rudelle chose what she thought would be the better option. To do it all on her own instead of being beneath her grandmother’s claws and Leo was still affiliated business wise or not no matter what choice he made.

They were both similar in that way.

Making their own choices, thinking it would work out in their favor.

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

“Great,” Rudelle grinned ready to get to their feet, “I’ll grab the keys for the basement and you can head down. It’s seventy-four which is in the path of almost like a S shape.”

Leo frowns as Rudelle begins to move around the apartment in search of the keys, “wait…you’re not sending me down there alone are you?”

“Yes I am.” Rudelle went through the cabinets of their white kitchen, “there’s bugs down there. I can’t—I won’t. I can still feel those ant bites from last year just speaking on it.” They trail off in thought, scratching at their collarbone, “Which is why I kept most of my decorations shoved in closets up here.”

Leo frowns, “you sure you weren’t on shrooms?”

“Oh piss off! I still got the bills to prove it.”

“So you want me? This glorious piece of ass to be a early feast for some critters? Do you hate me? Do we suddenly have a problem that I’m unaware of?”

“You just said you’re going to participate in my breakthrough? Aren’t we mates?”

“Mates don’t set up mates!”

Rudelle pretends to think about it, which earns them a shove from Leo while Rudelle laughs in return latching onto some keys that were tossed into a drawer.

“Fine, if you wanna hold hands just say that.”

“Are you really going to hold my hand? A taken man?”

Rudelle was tempted to throw in a, ‘Glad you remember that you actually have a boyfriend this time around, considering how many times I’ve caught you in cheating acts.’

But they refrained…only because they had this idea to get their hands on the decorations and didn’t want to do it alone. Sure Rudelle maybe grasping at straws but that holiday changed the trajectory of everything losing their parents on that Halloween night. If you believe in the supernatural…maybe just maybe they could communicate with them in some way.

“Only if you’re afraid of the dark.”

“It’s not of the dark, rather what’s in it.”

“Don’t you worry buttercup, I’ve thought of it all.” Rudelle’s patting Leo’s cheek who furrows his brows as they disappear again around their home.

Leo exhales deeply, “if you did then why am I being dragged into this?!”

“Because you’re my best friend and you can’t help but to love me back.”

“I guess…”

“What?!” Rudelle calls from somewhere in the apartment.

“I said I must confess! You know like queen Britney once said.”

“Uh huh.” Rudelle appears back in front of Leo who started peeking through their fridge.

He clasps a tatted hand to his chest, “I forgot that you’re so light on your feet, should have been a astronaut.”

“Not a chance, I think you’d miss me too much,” Rudelle winks and begins to model out the accessories they gathered for the both of them on their sudden adventure.

Leo thinks about it, taking a bite out of the cold veggie pizza and shrugs, “eh you’re probably right.”

There was no denying that Leo classified Rudelle as his only and legitimate friend who didn’t care about his nepotism. Don’t think they didn’t argue over money when his ignorance got the best of him in the beginning but it didn’t become a thing until it became a thing from time to time.

The basement in Rudelle’s building always smelled of moth balls, fresh dirt, cigarette smoke, and wet air. It wasn’t the best thing to inhale but with the city that they lived in it wasn’t anything foreign. The deeper the pair traveled through the bottom of the building, the colder it felt; even with the friends standing side by side.

Leo whispers to his left, “you look like you’re not batting on a full wicket.” Referring to Rudelle’s attire of a full hooded wetsuit, sunglasses, and a KN95 mask.

“Sounds like you’re jealous and wouldn’t be able to pull off this fit.”

“Even if I wanted to,” Leo starts doing that irritated blinking he so commonly does, “which trust me I don’t—I’d like for my balls to breathe so that’ll be a negative on the jealously part. You however still are giving very much nutbag.”

Rudelle bows, “thank you, thank you. A true star is going to war.”

“Star? Let’s not go that far with that outfit you’re wearing.”

“You should really talk to your therapist about your haterism,” Rudelle bumps Leo’s shoulder, “ready?”

“Not really,” Leo comments, “what are the sunnies for?”

“The jumping spiders.”

“The what?!” Leo stops in his tracks, “you never said a thing about that. I thought we only had to worry about the ants. Spiders are much worse than ants!”

Rudelle shushes the man from beneath their mask, “can’t turn away now, we’re not far from the decor.”

Leo is muttering away as Rudelle begins to drag the brooding man along, “you have me smelling like a old man who has back spasms on a daily with this lavender and eucalyptus oil. You better be lucky that I like you.”

“Oh what ever would I do if a usher despised little ol’ me?” Rudelle pouts beneath their mask.

“More like, what would you do without me?” Leo mentioned as they traveled the s path to the storage room.

You know that eerie feeling you have when it feels like someone is watching you from the corner of a room or standing over you as you sleep? It’s one of the reasons why Rudelle sleeps with the covers completely over their face. It’s also one of the reasons why Leo was more of a side sleeper than any other position—unless he was up to something else that is. That same feeling was creeping up the nape of Leo’s neck although his hoodie was tightened to his head.

As the friends take what feels like slow steps closer to the storage, there’s a tapping feeling that falls upon Leo’s right shoulder. It’s instant that he whips his head to his left to where Rudelle once stood but they’re actually up ahead, unlocking the first gates to the storage room.

“Did you feel that?” Leo calls out, while looking behind him at the path in which they came.

The creaking of the gate is followed before Rudelle says anything, “depends what was felt.”

Leo isn’t sure if he likes that response, “what do you mean?”

“I’m not the only tenant that doesn’t like coming down here.” Rudelle says, “come on then, don’t be afraid.”

“I’d actually feel quite better if I had my Mjölnir.”

“You’ve got me, babe?” Rudelle grins over at Leo who snorts as he cautiously approaches them.

Leo stands at the entrance of the gate while Rudelle is already inside, “is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Sonny and Cher think so.” Rudelle winks over at Leo who shakes his head at that.

“Cute but not really my style of music.”

“Don’t I know it Mr. Hangs out at cracked out pubs for fun.”

“Definitely not my kinda party either.” Leo steps inside the gate while Rudelle searches for their storage, trying to recollect which side it was actually on.

Rudelle let’s out a cackle at that. They remembered a time when a tattoo-less glasses wearing Leo was afraid to try a spliff back in the day and now look at him, the main party man out of the duo.

Leo let’s put a whistle as he walks down the aisle of gated storages that seemed to be collecting dust on top of their piled up items. “This isn’t so bad although most of you may have a hoarding problem.”

With those words lingering in the air, the main gate behind them seems to slam shut behind them making both Rudelle and Leo’s heads turn back to the entrance.

“Don’t tell me—

Rudelle shakes their head in disapproval, “I told you to use the brick to keep it open!”

“When did you say that?!” Leo exasperates, hands thrown up in the air.

“Back when you said someone tapped on your shoulder.”

Leo rests his clasped hands on top of his hood as he gulped, “I—I never told you that.”

“Yes you did.”

“No! No I didn’t, Ru!” Leo felt unsettled, “I only asked if you felt it but never elaborated to what it was.”

Rudelle hums at this.

They could have sworn they heard Leo explaining that to them? There were reasons why the tenants on Sycapine hardly ever came this far down in the building. Things that couldn’t be explained, much like what the two best friends were experiencing. Leo would later brush this off not bothering to connect what he encountered with Ru as similar incidents his own family would face but way more extreme.

“Well…might as well stay awhile. We got nothing else better to do, since you just locked us in.” Rudelle unlocks their storage section, holding eye contact with a very annoyed Leo.

Leo points, “I didn’t do anything! You thought you could suddenly telepathically tell me shit for real this time?!”

It wouldn’t be Rudelle’s first time.

“You’re the one who said someone tapped on your shoulder, so clearly you’re the one who failed at telepathy.”

Leo felt his eye twitch, “I knew I should have stayed home.”

“Whatever,” Rudelle says kicking a box towards the dark haired man, “pop a squat buddy, you’re not going anywhere.”

Leo kicks back at the box and rushes over to the gate to rattle against it, thinking that would apparently get it to unlock. Slipping their hand against the padlock, he couldn’t angle his wrist just right to pad any numbers in and the extra stab was seeing a brick right across the gate, almost mocking Leo with bright green eyes while the hallway went black for a good two seconds, demanding that Leo witness the disturbing image.

The after effects of a party never had Leo like this before.

There’s another touch but it’s a pinch this time that sends him snatching his hand back through the gaps in the gate. Holding onto his skin he examines it to see that there’s no damage only tricks playing on his mind?

He glances back at Rudelle who comes back out shoving a heavy box out of their storage.

Leo finds a spot on the lighter box Rudelle previously kicked his way, keeping quiet until they come back with yet another box to sit across from Leo. He tilts his gaze sideways to read the text, “HALLOWEEN,” on the brown box.

“You owe me big time for this.”

Rudelle dips their head, “cross my heart—

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Leo shushes his friend while peering around, “never made any sense to me anyway. Who the fuck hopes to die?!”

“Relax babes, the yelling.” Rudelle curls a finger against their ear.

“Sorry are my frustrations bothering you?”

“No but you acting like a dickhead is.”

“How are you being so calm about this?”

“Normally I wouldn’t be but things are happening too much for this to be a coincidence so I’m looking at this as another perspective. This all could be my parents’ doing. Thus! The breakthrough.” Rudelle taps on their temple.

“If you say breakthrough one more time,” Leo warns, “you’re good at second guessing yourself and believing whatever your brain tells you to but has it occurred to you that this could all be the devil?”

Rudelle says, “and here I thought you weren’t religious.”

“I didn’t put a label on anything, it’s not really my thing but one thing I know is evil. And what I feel down here is not necessarily kind. Are you sure you wanna fuck with that more with these decorations?” Leo leaned his elbows into his knees.

Rudelle sighs, “can you definitely say that? And not just blame it on anxiety?”

“Would you say the same with the crows? I mean that is the whole reason why we’re down here.”

Rudelle is silent at this for awhile and Leo can see the wheels turning but he’s not the most patient.

“I’m convinced it’s something else.” Rudelle exhales, “I know this building better since I did the research before moving in.”

“Do I wanna know that history?”

Rudelle lightly shakes their head, “I’ll keep it to myself…otherwise you might burst a blood vessel and I feel better having you focused rather than pissed.”

“fucking hell! I don’t like it when you keep secrets.”

“I know!” Rudelle yells back, “but this is an itch that I can finally scratch and I just need the support.”

Leo rubbed at his face, digging the palms into his tired eyes. He understood, of course he understood, he just didn’t exactly enjoy things that go bump in the night.

Never did but being the kind of friend that he is, he would get his point across—even if you didn’t like it but still find a way to be what you needed.

“Fine,” Leo holds out his hand which Rudelle smiled at before quickly tapping the back of their hands together before moving into a smoking motion, pointer and thumb pressed together as they pressed a kiss there before pulling away to exhale the bad into the air, “one love.”

“Always.”

Leo’s smile quickly vanished, “Just know…”

“Ah, here we go.”

“I’ll fucking haunt you if I go first.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Leon.” Rudelle rolls their eyes, “there’s answers in here somewhere.”

Leo feels he’s holding his breath as Rudelle begins to reach for the flaps of the brown box. He’s not sure what could be so off-putting by Halloween decorations and if these would be the usual kind? He personally wasn’t the biggest fan of Halloween as he didn’t enjoy being spooked since that tended to make things difficult for him.

‘Yes there are…but are they the answers they want?’ A feminine voice belonging to the entity named Vera, who hasn’t fully introduced themselves yet speaks above the long time friend’s heads but she doesn’t show herself.

She lingers in the shadows for now but she’s never far. So she watches on as the box becomes open, four flaps folded back as Rudelle takes a large inhale, peeking at Leo who holds their stare.

Unbeknownst to them, the gate behind Leo quietly unlocks and leaves the door ajar.

⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here.

#queued #tfothou #tfothou netflix #the fall of the house of usher #Netflix #rahul kohli #rahul kohli x reader #Napoleon usher #Napoleon usher x reader #leo usher #Leo usher x reader #fall prompts #Spotify

[aerodaltonimperial]

non-verbal jack prompt: darby getting caught by someone looking at jack ~like that~

(my therapist is gonna ask how I am today and I'm gonna be like oh I'm dealing great as though I am not posting another ridiculous ficlet up here)

Okay, so maybe Darby isn’t really well-practiced in schooling his expressions to avoid giving everything away, but in his defense, it’s been a really long time since he was involved with someone he worked with and never in a situation as official as AEW. Never in a situation where it might matter to people on the outside. And never in a situation where he’s standing in gorilla with said person, still overwhelmed by the bursts of dopamine that accompany learning someone for the first time—the excitement, the newness, the high of having someone else’s skin beneath his touch.

“Go get ‘em,” Darby says. Jack just raises both eyebrows in response, ludicrously coy; he’s so good at that, twisting his face into the most expressive of replies. His tongue pokes out from between his lips as his teeth rest against it, smile just short of daring.

Darby can’t help but return it, because it’s the same smile Jack adopts when his hair has strewn across the pillowcase, when Darby’s hands are greedily running up the slim length of his thighs, when—

Marko’s fingernails dig into Darby’s wrist as soon as Jack disappears through the tunnels behind Luchasaurus.

“Ow!” Darby hisses. “What the fuck!”

Marko just gets up on his tip-toes, which, for him, really still doesn’t do that much. “The hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Being in pain,” Darby replies. “Let go of me, you tiny weirdo.”

Marko does, but he certainly doesn’t back off any. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Not unless you’re the punchline.” Darby glares at him. “What is wrong with you?”

“What are you doing with him?”

Oh, fuck this. Darby is not dealing with the rest of this logic-defying stable getting involved in his life. “None of your business, quite frankly.”

“Oh, none of my business?” Marko parrots, voice going up. “Let me tell you, if you think you can—”

“Cut it out. He’s a fucking adult, and he can do what he wants.”

Marko regards him for long moment. Darby takes the opportunity to get down in Marko’s face. “Are you seriously giving me a shovel talk right now?”

“I’ll bury you,” Marko promises, low. “I don’t like you.”

“Doesn’t really matter if you like me, does it?” Darby returns.

Marko takes a step back. His expression doesn’t really change. “Guess not.”

He fucks off to who knows where and leaves Darby standing alone, though it takes awhile for Darby to shake the discomfort off. And after Lucha and Jack return, after they’ve taken the car back to the hotel, after Darby has jammed his thumb into the elevator button with enough force to split his nail, he’s still simmering on his frustration, hot at the back of his tongue.

Once inside the elevator, Jack looks at Darby, a question on his features.

“It’s not you,” Darby says. “Apparently I look at you like…” He frowns. “Apparently I look at you in a way that’s really obvious.”

Jack’s mouth screws to the side a little as he goes contemplative. And then, as the elevator begins to rise, he says, “I like the way you look at me.”

“Yeah?” Darby asks. When Jack nods, Darby grins. “Well, I like the way you look.”

He gets a wide, blinding smile for that. It’s so unguarded, the way Jack responds; it’s pure emotion, no filter. Darby fucking loves knowing that everything is exactly what it seems to be there. And then Jack leans in, slotting their mouths together, because he’s eager in the most addictive fashion, generally elated by the fact that he can just do this whenever he wants to now.

Because he can. Every time is like another jolt of adrenaline, the same sort of high Darby chases from mountain tops. Every time Jack kisses him is another curl of euphoria tickling through Darby’s bloodstream. It’s dizzying every time, another shock of realization: you’re standing next to a beautiful boy, and he wants you.

Darby is languid when he drags his mouth against Jack’s and taps his tongue lightly against Jack’s bottom lip, delighted by the way Jack’s eyelids try to flutter open and seem to get stuck, caught in the swell. “Shower?” he murmurs. 

The elevator is slowing. Jack’s eyes peel apart, impossibly dark. “Yeah,” he whispers.

So what if Marko Stunt is angry. So what if Darby can’t stop looking at Jack this way. When it all comes down, Jack’s the only thing in Darby’s vision that really matters.

#tag so you don't lose this shit #No one perceive me #I am doing so great lol

[arrowsinmyskull]

“i’ll never love again, i’m so in love with you.”

— yan oc concept : yan ! ex s/o ! singer x gender-neutral ! reader —

[usage of you/your pronouns. there are no mentions of 3rd person pronouns for you, even in dialogue.]

TW: obsessive behaviors, s/h (self harm) implications, kidnapping implications, its a little vulgar (if you dont like swearing), writing that was done late at night implications, my grammar probably got a liiittle too silly but thats ok i think i have cool grammar without double-checking if i put enough effort cause im cool like that <3 /j

a/n: i swear to god i keep writing crusty musty mfs madly in love but thats okay apparently my professional “writing concept judge” called me a genius. & said thta those asmr artists who do yan asmr would probably bow down to me which im scared of lolz. anywyas enjoy the result of my sleep deprivation & desperate attempts to try oil painting which made me spiral into insanity :insert that kissy emoji i forgot: ALSO ALSO idk if this’ll get popular but i sorta wanna give ‘em a name ohohoho

—————

ight listen: you knew em from middle school,, okay, & you grew up together from that point,. they caught feelings in highschool

they confessed a few months after catching feelings & you were like “omg me 2!!!”

so you guys were highschool sweethearts for a bit :)

oh, but school is a terrible thing for many. it could’ve been any cause like the following, but not limited to: your peers convinced you that they were too good for you, or vice versa.. maybe schoolwork was too overwhelming.. maybe you had to put more focus on your individuality to get better academically..

maybe you just fell out of love.

you two broke up when you guys were in your college years.

they didn’t show up for days after the break-up.. & nobody heard from them during those days. no one knew why, but some had a hunch if was due to your seperation. you guessed the same. guess what? your guesses were right.

they returned after a long while, although.. something was up. they were., wearing really baggy clothes..? that wasn’t like them. everything was covered..

if their sleeves rolled up, you’d see slits on their forearms. you guessed you were the cause of the wounds.

they showed up like nothing happened, but after some weeks passed.. they dropped out.

next thing you know, there’s an uprising indie musician who sings their heart out regarding heartbreak. they’re getting popular, their songs are nice, an—oh, what do you know? it’s. your. damn. ex. singing about you.

ugh, dawg,,, what in the sour by olivia rodrigo is this? these r fucking emo break-up songs (which lowkey go hard but it took vv long for u to admit) that is obvi a cry for you to come back to them

i mean.. these songs kinda fire even if theyre begging for you to love the singer again. you just know they chose to write songs in your fav genre because it'd have a higher chance of you noticing their work & even liking their work.. well, it seemed to have been a success. you are jamming to their songs so hard.

oh n if i’m being honest, this person has always gone all out for you, whether y’all were friends, besties, lovers, or exes, they did everything in their power to be perfect *for you*.

so ..... when you saw them concerts they were all FLASHY and it seems the lights were always your favorite color, their outfits matched your exact taste in fashion, it was basically like your dream stage in terms of aesthetics. you bet they catered to your tastes for you only.

you wanted to attend their concert. you began looking for the nearest concert of theirs and.... WHAT????????

there's a concert in your area, on your birthday exactly. they... didn't forget about you, huh? they knew damn well where you lived & that your special day was coming up soon.

you got tickets anyway. to hell with it all babyy

skip to when your long awaited bday rolls around!! you're putting on your coolest fuckin outfit because you really do put your all into making sure you enjoy a concert. from using the clothes you love most to making sure you get front row views.

ok i pull up hop out at the concert of my now popular ex lover,,, oh and you got a backstage pass. you don't know if it was a mistake but yippee you can see your fav artist who probably never forgot about your breakup but um... just ignore that then

you got into the concert venue & it is so so awesome looking!!! they r totally not gonna lose their shit now that ur here!! now transition into a drabble/scenario i don't know lmao

the lights blared in all of the colors they damn well knew you loved. the first concert of your current favorite singer. you were immediately guided to a luxurious bench with the best view of the concert, reserved just for you. it seems that there was a blatant special guest amongst the audience, & that special guest just so happened to be you. the love of their life, the one they never ever got over. your suspicions about that matter was just proven to be true, but you denied it. they're mature, they would've never done this much for a former significant other.. right? yeah, no, you are dead wrong.

they want you back, & with the fame they have acquired, they are devoting everything they have to just getting you back. it takes a while for them to get on stage, but they rise like a deity. the iridescent hues of the stage lights shine on them, highlighting all their gorgeous features. they changed themself immensely, it seems. the aesthetic, their face, absolutely everything.. those changes have all been made for you to love them more.. & more.. until both of you are hurt & sore just from singing praises for too long, just from giving affection without even a second wasted without unbridled shows of what can only be called passion—pure, primal, passion. their eyes search through the crowd, checking if you’re in the VIP seat, or if you’re anywhere in the roaring audience at all. ‘ah, there you are.. you, oh-so flawless sovereign, you..’ unhinged cries of desperation runs through their thoughts, as they suppress the twisted grin creeping onto their face. they snap out of their daze when they start to realise they’re simply staring at you.

“hit it!”

the music is.. quite new. the same genre, of course, to keep everything the exact way they knew you’d like it. however, it seems nobody recognises the song. it seems to be unreleased, without even a demo. it is quite beautiful, though, so you hope they’ll release it soon. it also appears that the lyrics are no longer of heartbreak, or of unrequited love. all they’re singing about is reunion, reciprocated romance, all the good things. there are even covers of love songs, & they are the favorites of the both of you! but why is this happening? when you watched all the other concerts, it was never like this. what is so special? why is everything switched up? what is the reason behind all this?

…you hear the mention of your name in their song. it clicked. it clicked at last.. the reason is simply.. you. it’s all because you’re here, that they’re all like this. looks like they’re feeling giddy, like getting butterflies right now, & you’re the cause, huh..? they’re keeping their eyes on you while they belt their heart out, then they took notice of the pink subtly dusting your cheeks amidst the audience & their cheers. they shoot a smile & wink in your direction as they pray to whatever deity is out there that you saw them do so. 3 hours of poetic love songs all written in your name pass, then the roars & cheers die down once they finish off the encore. their gloved hands run through their glistening hair, giving an exhausted smile at everyone. you try to get up, forgetting about your sudden VIP backstage pass from earlier, but you get restrained by the ‘special chair’. it seems that they want to keep you around for a while longer.

the sound of their expensive leather shoes clacking against the floor echoes through the now-empty concert venue. “hello, my darling! where have you been for so long, hm?”

they beam at you with the same award-winning smile from when you two were highschool sweethearts. you try to suppress your smile when you reminisce about the old days.. & try to stay a bit distant. despite your attempt to hide that you missed seeing that warm expression, they picked up on how you looked at them with an ever-so subtle hint of longing for what once was. their soft hand takes a hold of yours as they let you go from the restraints, firmly but gently making sure that you stay. their thumb caresses the back of your hand like they always did when you held eachother at the movies. your fingers intertwine as they help you get up, so that they can lead you backstage. they acted so intimate, as if you two were still dating. to them, you really are. nothing changed, right? just a few years of unbearable distance, that’s all! they never stopped being your lover, after all…

you were brought backstage, & it was all silent. nobody was around, as everyone else was shooed out beforehand, since “they could take it from here”.. whatever that meant to the staff. you were immediately placed on their lap, as they whispered sweet, obsessive nothings. you knew damn well, though, that those sweet nothings definitely hinted to something. there was definitely something sinister behind the adoring praise which spilled from their lips.

“oh, do you know how much i’d do for you, how much i love you?”

“i’d bring the world down in your name. are you not aware of that, my love?..”

“when you entered my life, when we became more than boring ol’ friends, oh, i felt so loved! did you know that?”

“..you.. you did? then why’d you leave, huh? i know you didn’t leave me for dead, ‘cause, darling, i just know you’d never do that to me!”

“so, why did you choose to go?”

you tense up at the last question. the temptations to fall apart & sob as you blabber about everything that happened crept up on you, but you were wary, as it seems that even as a person of massive fame, they were still the same obsessive ex you saw before they moved away. so, you tried to lie, but they saw right through it. with enough coaxing, all the events spilled out. from your thoughts to the outside influences, secrets were flowing as though they were a waterfall while you rested & bawled in their arms, & on their chest, where you most definitely belong. once you calmed down from enough shushing & cuddling, you smiled at eachother. you felt comforted, even though you were being told in the back of your mind that this is all so wrong. the moment itself felt so right, so who gives a shit? they kissed you tenderly, in the exact same manner they always did if you two were apart for too long. to them, yes, it really just was a simple heart-felt reunion. you just spent time away from eachother! it was never a break-up! so, why not just stick around now? it seems you suffered so much without them by your side..

they whispered in-between soft kisses placed all over you. “it seems to have all been so petty! now, how about you stay here for good this time?”

—————

DAWG THIS WAS STUCK IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG BYE IM SHOWING THIS TO MY HOMIE

#yandere #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #yancore #yandere x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere oc #[tears of depravity: oc concept] #yandere oc x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere singer

[someidiotwithalaptop]

So these lines from the intro, "Clasping tight onto memories I know / They'll be overrun / (By a girl)" And right on "overrun" we get this shot of (probably) Alyx literally overshadowing Ruby.

Which is uhh. Unsettling. Especially since throughout the intro we keep getting both Ruby and Neo shifting into Alyx or back again!

So if I really jam my tinfoil hat on, they might both be falling victim to the same weird magic curse type thing, getting "overrun" by Alyx.

Then there's the fact that Blake mentioned the Rusted Knight! Meaning he's a character in the book! So if Jaune is the knight we saw in the intro, and it really seems like he is, then either something went very funky with time and, plot twist, Jaune was technically way more famous than Pyrrha back in Beacon (which would be very funny), or… He slotted into the role of the Rusted Knight, because he didn't have a Purpose in the Ever After. And if you don't have a purpose, a role in the story, then you'll get one.

They're following the path Alyx did in the book. They're doing all the same things she did, and like… this is a story. So there's absolutely no way that's going to keep working, right? Blake can't already know the answer to every problem they face, that would wreck the stakes completely.

Except… what if she does? What if every time, Blake knows exactly how to deal with the situation, has an answer they can follow that will solve the problem. A magic* solution. But the more they use it, the more like Alyx they become. So they have to find their own answers, solve things a different way, if they want to stay themselves.

(*For extra tinfoil hat points, Oscar was the first person to bring up The Girl Who Fell Through the World, literally in the same conversation as he told Ozpin that every time they use magic, he can feel them merging faster.)

And considering the headspace Ruby's in, where she desperately wants to stop having to be the person making the decisions because she's exhausted and it always goes wrong and she's just absolutely drowning in survivor's guilt and despair… I can see her reaching for the easy solution, because, well. If all it costs is who she is, well then that's not really much of a price to pay, now is it? Especially if the alternative is trying to do things our way and risking another friend dying like Penny did. Why shouldn't she just keep on asking Blake, "What did Alyx do next?"

All this to say: Ruby might be about to cheat at a board game next episode.

I'm not worried Ruby is going to fully disappear (though she might come close) because, you know, main protagonist, but damn does all this make me fear for Neo considering Alyx apparently "Lied and cheated" her way through the book (while just "trying to survive"), and Roman's last words were "Lie, steal, cheat, and survi—"

#rwby #rwby volume 9 #rwby spoilers #ruby rose #neopolitan rwby #alyx rwby #the girl who fell through the world #tinfoil hat time

[sarahshot1st]

The Bees in their Natural Habitat

Sho P. Keeper’s Coffee was the only coffee place open on a Saturday morning following the Grimm attack in Beacon. Many of the other shops had been destroyed or damaged in the fighting, but somehow this one remained unscathed.

“So, how have classes been for you?” Yang asked, stretching her arms out.

“Pretty good,” Blake replied, stirring a healthy dollop of honey into her tea.

Aside from a few gen-ed courses like Professor Port’s “Grimm Taxonomy and Strategy 101” and Professor Oobleck’s “History 101,” they mostly had separate classes from one another. Most of the time they spent together was either studying in the dorm or out training in the field. It was rare the two of them had a moment to themselves; a chance to just sit down and talk about their lives without having to worry about homework or strategizing with their team.

That was one advantage to a hoard of giant monsters rampaging through your city - it tended to make professors pretty lenient with due dates. Particularly when you were part of the team that helped put an end to that rampage.

“I’ve been thinking about experimenting with some upgrades to my gauntlets,” Yang said, stretching out her arm to display Ember Celica. “My baby girls have served me well, but I gotta make sure they stay in tip-top shape, you know? I’ve heard the new Deadlock actuators are designed to help high-caliber weapons cycle their rounds faster, with less chance of jamming.”

Blake nodded. Yang’s weapon fired shells that sprayed the target with a barrage of smaller particles, similar to bird-shot used by many recreational hunters - though much more deadly. The trade-off was that they weren’t very effective at long range, but Yang preferred to fight up-close-and-personal anyway. Blake’s own weapon was more balanced between close-and-long range, a design choice which was meant to compliment her hit-and-run tactics.

Yang finished her speech about various weapon parts and grinned excitedly, instinctively making a fist to cock the weapon. With a start, Blake realized she had missed the last part of what the blonde-haired brawler had been saying - she had been too busy staring at Yang’s guns.

Mh-hm. Yes. Guns. That’s what we’re talking about. Weapons.

Blake took a sip of her tea, hoping its relative warmth would serve as an excuse for her flushed cheeks. To be fair, it was an honest mistake - you couldn’t really look at one without admiring the other, and Yang had been showing them off quite eagerly.

“Interesting,” Blake said, falling back on her default answer for when she had zoned out of a conversation. Showed that you were still following the discussion, yet was non-committal enough that it wouldn’t give away what you had missed. It seemed to do the trick. Yang took a sip of her drink - which was apparently some combination of hot chocolate and coffee - then asked, “How about you? Do you have any potential weapon modifications in mind?”

“Not exactly,” Blake replied, gathering her thoughts. Fortunately, this was a topic she could easily discuss at a moment’s notice. “Gambol Shroud is already custom-built from the ground-up. With how complex a weapon it is, I’d worry about second-hand parts not fitting in, or worse upsetting the balance of the system.”

“Complex indeed!” Yang exclaimed. “It’s like a sword, but sometimes it’s a bigger sword? And sometimes it’s not a sword at all, but a gun? And there’s a rope that somehow doesn’t get tangled up in all of that?” She took a sip of her chocolate-coffee. “I’ve spent hours staring at that thing, and I still don’t understand how it works!” She froze, then hastily added, “Not that I’ve spent hours - staring in your direction, I mean … we’ve been on assignments together, and practiced fighting as a team. You know.”

Blake narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Was Yang … acting nervous all of a sudden? Yang, who always seemed so confident?

No, she thought, you’re just imagining things because you want them to be true. If Yang was interested like that, she’d just come out and say it. It was a character trait Blake wished she could practice a little more herself.

Sighing, she took another sip of her tea.

***

Across the lawn, two figures peeked out of a bush, watching the proceedings through binoculars.

“How oblivious can you be?” Weiss demanded angrily. “What do we need to do, go over there and knock their heads together, then make them kiss?”

Ruby lowered her binoculars, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “No, Agent Schnee. This is a delicate operation - one which could be ruined by your crude efforts. We must exercise patience. Any attempt to bring about a swift resolution will only ruin the chemistry that is already simmering beneath the surface.”

Weiss huffed, folding her arms. “You mean to tell me that these two are going to be fawning over each other for months? I’m not sure I can handle that, what with how obvious they’re being.”

Ruby suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders. “YOU WILL NOT JEOPARDIZE THE SECRECY OF THIS MISSION JUST TO SATISFY YOUR IMPATIENCE, DO YOU HEAR ME AGENT SCHNEE? I WILL NOT HAVE YOU RUINING THIS!”

Ruby’s vigorous attempts to shake some sense into her teammate were interrupted by a noise from across the lawn.

“Did you hear that?” Yang’s voice could be heard.

Both of the huntresses froze. After a moment, Blake replied, “Must have been an animal passing through the bushes.”

Slowly, careful not to rustle any branches, the two observers disentangled themselves from one another. Weiss huffed, dusting off her shoulders.

“There’s no need to overreact like that,” the heiress grumbled. 

“It’s not an overreaction,” Ruby said, voice quiet but still intense. “This is the most important operation we’ve been on together! If they mess this up - if we mess this up…”

Then Yang will miss out on the first chance she’s had in long time, Ruby thought, not able to finish the sentence out loud. The first chance at finding someone who can make her happy.

Ruby had seen the way Yang and Blake acted around each other, they way they kept stealing glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Heck, half the school had probably picked up on what was happening between the two of them. It was obvious what was happening. She and Weiss just needed to carefully observe, so they could keep the relationship on track.

She owed that to her sister.

“Come on, Agent Schnee. The field study has proved to be success. Now we need to withdraw before we potentially disturb the bees in their natural habitat any further.”

Weiss sighed at her teammate’s antics, but didn’t say anything further as they (somewhat) stealthily extricated themselves from the bush and headed back to the dorm to further discuss the findings.

#rwby fic #bumbleby #rwby volume 2 #shortly after torchwick's grimm train attack

[thistransient]

For the past two years there's been a zodiac themed display of fun postcards designed by a variety of artists in the gift shop of the Museum of Contemporary Art. Looking forward to the Year of the Dragon, I'd been planning to go for a while and finally headed over. To my dismay it was not there! However, I was prepared to undertake one of my favourite activities, pestering an unsuspecting employee about it in Mandarin. Props to that man, who actually made a phone call to somebody about it, who called him back after investigating, whereupon he wrote down an address and phone number for me, because it turned out the whole thing was not organised by the museum but by a print shop. He suggested I call them first, but he was unaware that my least favourite activity is calling strangers on the phone in Mandarin, plus the location was only a ten minute walk away. The museum itself seemed plagued by an unusual amount of tourists and school children today, so I decided to skip the whole thing and go on this quest.

I was rewarded en route by a street full of seasonal decoration shops preparing all the shiny things for Chinese New Year (is this not also a kind of modern art??), and a wander down some alleys I would never have otherwise wandered down. Finally I found the place, Retro Jam 印刷, which to my good fortune had the sought-after postcards on obvious display. They seem to do all manner of screen and risograph printing, and also sell supplies and prints. I can't speak to the quality of services but I had a great time poking around in the latter. Across the street was a place called Risograph Museum, which as far as I can tell was unrelated to Retro Jam, and was not a museum but a small shop of prints and cute items where I also flipped through cards to my heart's content (apparently the main Risograph Museum with printing services is in Taichung).

Afterwards I had ambitions to go to IKEA and get a duvet cover for an IKEA duvet I'd come into the possession of recently (via a friend distributing loot household items before moving back overseas), so I walked to Beimen Station when hunger struck. I am not the kind of person who can simply walk into a strange restaurant. Usually it requires extensive investigation and two to three back-up schemes, which is not really something I care to do while sitting outside the metro by a noisy intersection. The primary way to streamline this procedure is to focus solely on curry. There was a place called Curry Lab. Tokyo (with the punctuation, yes) conveniently near IKEA, and it had a solid 5 stars, which induces suspicion because that generally means the place gives some discount or bribe for good reviews, but I chanced my luck.

It was dishearteningly dark within when I got there despite being 16:31 (with 16:30 opening hours listed) but the employees were present and the door was open, so I asked exactly when business commenced and they turned on the light and told me to sit down.

Lo and behold, I really would rate it as one of the top 5 Japanese style curries I've had. Something about the spices and the onions. I was impressed. I even indulged in a pudding afterwards, which was equally delightful.

Google Maps' estimation of the crowd level at IKEA had me a bit wary but it was pretty empty and I had a grand time feeling the fabrics, sniffing the scented candles, and restraining myself from purchasing an orb to ponder (I already have a lantern at home, one spherical glowing light fixture is enough unless I move into a bigger place). I even got the duvet cover I went there for and nothing else!

(imagine how immense my willpower must be in the face of these, for 499元 🙀)

When I finally got out it was rush hour and thus time to squish into the MRT like sardines. I have lived here long enough to have no qualms about moving people who will not move themselves. No more timid 不好意思 from this 外國人, it is time to 讓開! (Perhaps I give myself more credit than I'm due in terms of audacity, as more often than not the wave of humanity entering the train car behind me would propel me forward one way or another, I've simply learned to proactively embrace that inevitability.)

I've been feeling unexpectedly resilient regarding going out and doing things lately, although it may be because in going out I'm procrastinating on what I should be doing at home (although I am still thinking about it and making notes while walking around). In this way being outside feels more like a break instead of a torment 🤔 We'll see how long it lasts, but I might as well enjoy it.

#maybe 'pestering' gives the wrong impression considering the man is there to be asked questions of #but i generally feel like i'm bothering people because i in my customer service days dreaded human interaction

[petermorwood]

Hi Peter! I really love your mum’s soda bread recipe, as you might recall, but unfortunately, I am currently staring down the barrel of a possible celiac disease diagnosis 😭 I’m definitely going to spend some quality time experimenting once I know for sure I’m going to have to eliminate gluten, but I was wondering if you had any thoughts about the best way to adapt it for a gluten free flour. My initial plans are to try it as written with the King Arthur measure for measure flour (which is apparently the most neutral tasting gluten free flour readily available) and go from there but if you or any of your followers have any expertise (or other gluten free recipes or tips) you’d like to share, I’d be grateful! Hope you and DD are well. 💙

I'll pass this on to DD for suggestions, and throw it open here for input.

That said, your idea of subbing in King Arthur gluten-free flour sounds like a good one - as you know from making it, this (indeed any) soda bread isn't kneaded to develop gluten, so may well work just fine with a flour that doesn't have it. Let us know what happens.

Here’s one recipe for gluten-free oven soda.

NB, just for terminology reference, when I was growing up in Northern Ireland, “soda bread” never had dried fruit in it. That was (surprise, surprise!) “fruit soda”. Mum didn’t have a name for my soda farl with pickled Jalapeños, which is probably just as well. Though it was too hot for her palate, she did agree that it made an excellent addition to an Ulster Fry...

This is a recipe for gluten-free farl which is based on the EuropeanCuisines original and rather decently says so.

For other readers’ reference, here's Mum’s recipe, with a pic of the oven version.

To my certain knowledge it's been in my family via Mum, Granny, Great-Gran for at least 150 years, and is probably even older than that.

The recipe, that is, not the actual loaf in the photo...

My preferred form of soda bread is farl, quartered griddle bread, which is amazing just with butter - though strawberry (and especially raspberry) jam brings it to a new level. Best accompanied by a glass of cold milk in warm weather, or the never-out-of-place wee cup of tea.

Here’s our photo of farl, an image long overdue for replacement with something better, except that when we make this stuff it tends to get eaten before one of us thinks to say “Uh, camera...?”

(DD, prompted by this, is making some Right Now. Pics later.)

When split fresh off the griddle, or later on when toasted, it can absorb more butter than seems possible, and that’s exactly the way my Dad liked it. He’d have looked at our pic, and at this one from Office Holidays Blog,..

...and said something like “If you can still see the bread through the butter, there’s not enough butter.”

YMMV about that, especially with toast where the butter lurks under the crunchy crust then makes a dive for chin and shirt-front as you bite, but it’s worth trying at least once.

As DD says, “If you can eat a slice of New York pizza and finish with grease-free elbows, you can probably manage soda farl with ‘enough butter.’..”

#food and drink #breadmaking #irish soda bread #my mum's soda bread #griddle bread

[sibillascribbles08]

Okay buckling down and doing this now.

Here’s my propaganda about why Donnie is the most like his dad featuring solid points and some arguable points.

First statement, this isn’t me saying ONLY Donnie is like his dad. All the boys share traits with their father that I’ve noticed (an essay for another time perhaps) I think Donnie just racks up the most points.

Going under a cut tho because long.

So first thing I want to talk about is a lot of people attach Leo as being exactly like his dad, mostly because they have the same vibes on a surface level, but I still argue that Donnie picks up more pieces. The only reason it’s not obvious is because Donnie is very book and technical smart while Lou named turtles Green and Green 2.

Tossing aside some surface level factors (i.e. those eyebrows are 100% inspired from Lou Jitsu and I won’t hear otherwise) some of their shared traits are fairly obvious.

Donnie, much like Leo, not only has an ego (regarding his mind) but is also very vain. While it’s not to a point he acts like he’s the prettiest boy in the room, there are a handful of points he draws attention to his appearance. (”You are the hunkiest” Drawing on eyebrows for nine years, making a titanium bust of himself etc). Even after being mutated, Splinter hasn’t lost a lot of this.

One that was pointed out to me from another post, Splinter and Donnie both have a form of screen addiction. Though seeking it out in different ways, Splinter is often glued to the TV while Donnie panics without having his phone nearby.

Donnie obvs got his love of dancing from his dad. Tragic you don’t see Splinter doing it a lot but he evidently did a bunch of it back before he got mutated. (Also the 80s jams always get you huh Donnie?? interesting)

This technically applies to all the bros tbh, but Donnie is fairly protective. I think Splinter’s desire to break his vow of no more fighting for some turtles he just met gets extended to all the boys and Donnie is no exception. He often seems very aloof, and doesn’t invest a lot of concern into people they deem as their enemies, but he puts a lot of subtle effort into building tech that will keep his family safe.

Mikey already pointed out the freebie in Breaking Purple with that photo comparison. But just to be clear when Splinter’s temper gets the better of him (essp. because his ego of all things is being attacked) the first thing he does is ground the boys. Donnie’s first instincts with Shelldon are the same thing (and with his own father apparently)

Speaking of which: “Oh Papá, if you surrender now there shant be any consequences!” “Hah, that is a lie. I taught him that one.”

I’m not totally sure how good Splinter’s recent memory is, but the show does have him state he remembers all of the names of the stuntmen he worked with. Donnie’s memory is also shown to be extremely on point (”the brain is nature’s notepad”). In some ways because he exercises it so much, but still.

Here’s a fun one. They’re both bad liars (in certain situations). It’s always interesting to me people just flat out say Donnie is a bad liar despite how fast he was with a fake name toward the purple dragons and his attempt to scam Repo out of the mystic armor piece. It seems that given at least some space to plan he can lie just fine, it’s more sudden scenarios where he falters. (”We are just normal humans on our way to a convention.”) But also, despite being trained as an actor, Splinter is also sometimes... very bad at lying. (”I am Randal and I am a normal teenage boy!”) Literally in that episode Splinter and Donnie just have an exchange of a terrible lie. (”I can’t believe he fell for that.” “I can’t believe they fell for that.”)

Oh yeah speaking of actor, Donnie’s flair for the dramatics holy SHIT. I don’t think he’s necessarily brilliant at acting (or at the very least doesn’t have it come as naturally as Leo does) but wow some of the speeches he gives when he’s despondent.... boy.

Some other short point. “You’re so cute but so mean why do I always fall for your type?” (gee, wonder if this is part of the reason Lou was into Big Mama). And also I’m p sure they both snore.

Okay here’s my big wammy one though. Both Donnie and his father are very approval seeking. They may seek it from different sources but it’s very prominent and influences a lot of their decisions. While Lou turned away from his family and their traditions, I imagine there was a part of him that was frustrated that his grandfather (his only parental figure it seems) wouldn’t approve of anything he did outside of their family legacy. Lou decides to go out and be a movie star, lives for the camera, the fame, the attention, and even when trapped in the battle nexus seems to have some fond memories attached to the cheering crowds. He seeks out approval from a bunch of strangers because he was never able to get it from his family. (And on top of that, you sometimes see him desperate for the approval of his sons and get very frustrated when they look up to other people).

Donnie’s in a similar boat. He states multiple times he wants the approval of a parental figure (either Splinter fell out of showing his pride or does it in ways that Donnie doesn’t understand) and in some cases is easily won over by the right kind of compliments being thrown his way. He also seems to want approval from his siblings (making big shows about showing off new inventions. “And applause, and applause, and still waiting for your applause.”) though maybe not to the same degree as from someone he could consider a role model. He attaches his self worth to what he can do, and notes that if his family decides his tech is useless, they may think the same way about him.

You could make arguments that all the boys have this issue but I don’t think it’s to the same degree as Donnie. Sure they all have moments they want to prove themselves, but there’s plenty of other occasions they make it clear they don’t give a flip what the others think.

Anyway much to Donnie’s horror and disgust I think he’s the most like his dad, despite how different they appear at first glances, and so far I’m having a fantastic time playing with that idea.

#scribs speaks #rottmnt #will fight to the death on this topic

[dc-polls]

"That Really Happened?!" DC Comics Tournament

The Bracket

Groupings

We had 48 entries, which does not split evenly into a geometric sequence (2, 4, 8, 16), but it does split nicely if we break it up into groups of three first. So instead of a bracket with a left and right side, we will have a three-way bracket, where the finalists from groups A, B and C will all go head to head with each other round-robin style.

Seeding

In the poll that went up yesterday, I asked for feedback on seeding preferences. Interestingly, most people voted for grouping similar content, followed closely by random. Some people favored traditional seeding, and very few wanted to see the most popular go head to head early on. Personally I'm not a fan of random since it really unbalances things, but boy would it have been easier than what I've been doing! So here's what I did for our current tournament.

I've hand paired all 48 entries to match similar ones, or ones that I felt had an interesting hook between them. Next I created three different full brackets using these initial pairings so I could compare them. One was completely hand seeded, further grouping sets of matches together. Another took all the initial pairings and put them in traditional sort order using number of notes to indicate popularity (slightly unbalanced bc posts vary in age). And for the last, I took the initial pairings and randomized them with a few manual tweaks to distribute the most popular. All three of these approaches have pros and cons, which made it a tough choice, and in the end we are going with the fully hand seeded bracket. Not every entry had an obvious match, but I hope this will make the tournament compelling!

Schedule

Since we have three arms of the bracket, expect three polls to go up every day until the round is over. Each poll will last for the full seven days. We may or may not take time between rounds. The first round starts tomorrow!

Bracket List

Ready to see the bracket? Click "Keep Reading" and view the list below, or visit the google sheet here! For fun, I've also put the brackets we didn't end up using into the sheet.

Group A

Islamophobia Run Amuck (Joker Becomes Iranian Ambassador)

Black Mask Wears…er….

The Flash Meets Fidel Castro

Superboy gets the personality of Hitler

Sexual Assault Is A Superpower, Apparently

Snowflame, The Supervillain Powered by Cocaine

Domestic Abuse Ghost Possession

Can the real pol manning please step up?

Subway Puritans

My Favorite Same-Sex Couple in DC Comics is Technically Bestiality and Metaphorically Incest

Batman gives a guy ALS

Batman's dad tries to ruin his life

The Earth-Saving Alien Dick

Mal Duncan gets punched in the dick by an Angel

Superman and Big Barda do a porno

Wet and Wild

Group B

Schrödinger's Pregnancy

Zachary Zatara Has Dead Twins

Superman's Sentient Excised Tumor with Daddy Issues

Black Manta kills Aquaman's biological son, Aquaman tries to kill his adopted son

Shvaughn/Sean

So I Married a Protean and No One Told Me

"Not Exactly Romeo": Gorilla Mommy Issues and Other Tales

Superboy Has Two Daddies

Catwoman and the Penguin Cure COVID And Run Away Together

Kon-El Got Enslaved By Furries (And It Led To Pearl Harbor 2!)

Supergirl gets romanced by her horse

This angel centaur is a genderfluid lesbian

Rock Turns Man Gay

Sentient Music Note Saves The Day With The Power of… Gay Love?

Jimmy Olsen Fucked Talia al Ghul

Superman marries Supergirl

Group C

Superboy-Prime Punches Time

3 Year Old Lian Harper Breaks Vandal Savage's Thumb

Alien Invasion and the Time-Travelling Boomerang

Baseball Game to Save Two Worlds

Submission Witheld Due to Copywrite

Lex Luthor Stole 40 Cakes (And That's Terrible)

Bob Haney Doesn't Know Who Wonder Girl Was Supposed to Be

Animal Man discovers the Fourth Wall

Green Arrow hunts humans for sport

What if Space Jam but instead of fun, it's with Batman and it's horribly depressing?

Jason Todd: Tentacle Monster (Tentatodd)

Halloween Costume… of Death!

Wally Mobius Manhattan West

Metron and Swamp Thing go for a ride

Justice League Doom Patrol Inflation Art

Hallucinagenic Party Balloons (for your own good)

As always you can find all posts related to the tournament using #dc-polls-trh

And you can view details about each entry in our Entry List

#dc-polls-trh #dc-polls-bts