#I then wondered if I should make them fight

[nekonaps0]

Enemies in the halls, Lovers behind doors

✦Leona x Reader

✦fem!reader

✦comedy / fluff / hot mess couple / Jack being a cutie /

✦”If you keep digging, you’re gonna find bones what’s buried for a reason.”

It was another normal morning at Night Raven College. The halls buzzed with idle chatter, floating gossip, and the occasional magical mishap. But the one thing everyone had grown accustomed to hearing echoing off the walls was…

“Oh, look who decided to show up for class today—King Sloth himself. Should I kneel or just applaud?”

“Tch. You again? You must be soo… obsessed with me, herbivore.”

It was you and Leona. Again.

Students didn’t even turn their heads anymore. The storm of sarcasm and remarks had become part of the daily ambiance, like Grim’s complaining.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep at somewhere like a lazy alley cat instead of wasting oxygen near me?”

Leona gave you an eye roll, arms lazily crossed at front of his chest as he leaned against the hallway wall. “You just love hearing yourself talk, huh? No wonder your grades are just as bad as your insults.”

You gasped, mostly for dramatic effect, and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Excuse you! I’m passing every class except—”

“Potions,” Leona cut in, smug. “Don’t worry, though. You’re probably brewing up a new personality instead of actual results.”

You scoffed. “And you? I heard even the spelldrive club doesn’t want you on the bench anymore because you nap through practice.”

Behind you two, standing in a safe distance, Jack and Ruggie watched the exchange like it’s another reality show.

Jack crossed his arms, brow furrowed. “This is getting out of hand.”

Ruggie nodded solemnly, chewing on a half eaten sandwich. “Yeah. They’ve been at it every day this week. I’ve seen celebrities with less drama.”

“I don’t get it. Why do they hate each other so much?” Jack muttered. “They’re always together in the same room, always yelling. It’s like they go out of their way to find each other.”

Ruggie side eyed him. “You know, when people argue this much, it’s usually ‘cause they got some kinda unresolved tension.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Like… rivalry?”

Ruggie gave him a look. “Like the spicy kind.”

Jack turned a little pink. “You’re making things weird.”

“I’m just sayin’,” Ruggie shrugged. “You know how cats play fight with the ones they like? Maybe it’s like that.”

Jack watched as Leona flicked a piece of chalk at you and you retaliated by dropping your notebook on his foot.

“Maybe we should do something,” Jack said. “Like… talk to them separately. Try to get them to be civil.”

“Civil?” Ruggie laughed. “Good luck with that, big guy. That’s like asking Leona to smile during dorm meetings.”

But Jack was already determined. “They’re always ruining the mood. It’s not healthy.”

“Alright, alright,” Ruggie sighed. “I’ll talk to her. You try talking to him. But I’m not betting any money on this working.”

Later That Day:

At the botanical garden you were sitting peacefully in a corner during your free period, legs crossed and book in your lap, enjoying the quiet… until Ruggie dropped into the seat beside you with a sly grin.

“Hey hey, what’s up?”

You didn’t even look up. “If this is about Leona again, tell him I’m not speaking to him until he apologizes for mocking my handwriting.”

Ruggie blinked. “Wow, this goes deep.” He said sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes. “The nerve of that man. He has the personality of a grumpy stray cat, the sleep schedule of a vampire, and the ego of a goddamn peacock. But sure! let’s make me the bad guy.”

Ruggie tilted his head, studying you for a second longer than you liked.

“What?” you asked.

He smirked. “Nothing. You’re just really passionate about someone you supposedly hate.”

You shot him a glare, trying to bury the heat crawling up your neck. “I’m passionate about justice.”

“Sure, sure,” Ruggie drawled. “Hey, would you say he’s a good kisser?”

You choked on your own breath. “W-What?!”

“I said, would you say he’s a good—”

“I heard what you said!” You glared at him like he just offended your mother. “The fuck is this question? How would I know?”

He looked way too smug for your liking.

“You two got something going on huh?” he grinned.

You gave him a stony look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And please… I have a taste.”

He leaned back, hands behind his head. “Mmhmm. Got it.”

Meanwhile…

Leona sprawled across the couch like a king on his throne, lazily peeling an orange while Jack sat across from him, trying to figure out how to broach the topic.

“…You and the prefect. You argue a lot.”

Leona didn’t look up. “Your observation skills are on point.”

“I’m just wondering,” Jack said, slowly. “Do you think it might be better if you two… got along? You know.”

Leona popped an orange slice in his mouth. “And ruin all my fun?”

Jack frowned. “Is it really fun though? Looks like you’re constantly on edge.”

Leona tilted his head, lazy grin forming. “You think I’m losing sleep over that herbivore?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Leona gave a long, low chuckle that made Jack feel like he’d just stepped on a landmine.

“Careful, pup,” Leona said, voice low and amused. “If you keep digging, you’re gonna find bones what’s buried for a reason.”

Jack didn’t know what to make of that cryptic reply… but something about Leona’s expression, the glint in his eyes, told him maybe this wasn’t just about arguments and insults after all.

•

The cafeteria buzzed with chatter, forks scraping plates and conversations. But in the far back corner, Jack sat slumped over his tray of grilled chicken, completely defeated.

Across from him, Ruggie casually munched on a rice ball, side eying Jack with a bit of pity and a lot of amusement.

“They were at it again,” Jack muttered, still looking dazed. “Right in the hallway this morning. She called him a sandbag stuffed with arrogance. He said her fashion sense looked like a cursed curtain.”

Ruggie snorted. “Classic.”

“I tried, Ruggie,” Jack groaned. “I really did. I thought maybe if I got them to talk, or find some common ground, they’d stop being so… volatile. But nope. They’re just going to keep fighting. Forever. Like mortal enemies.”

Ruggie reached across the table and patted Jack’s shoulder. “You’re thinking too hard, man. If they’re not trying to kill each other, maybe they’re doing alright.”

“They looked like they were about to cut each other throats…” Jack grumbled.

“Did they actually throw hands?” Ruggie asked casually.

“Well… no.”

“Did they look like they were enjoying it, even a little?”

Jack blinked. “…Enjoying the fight?”

“Exactly.”

Jack frowned, completely confused. “Who would enjoy fighting? And also. It’s sad. I’m friends with both of them, and they act like they’d rather claw each other’s eyes out.”

“Yeah, well,” Ruggie grinned. “Claws ain’t just for fighting.”

Jack didn’t get the chance to overthink that comment. The lunch bell rang.

“C’mon,” Ruggie said, hopping up and slinging his bag over one shoulder. “We’ve got classes. Try not to sulk the whole walk there.”

Jack sighed, standing. “I just want them to get along…”

They made their way through the hallway. Just as they passed one of the older, unused classrooms, tucked near the end of the east wing, they both stopped.

“Gosh…shut up for once..”

“Tch. You’re the one who can’t be quiet…”

Slam.

Thud.

Jack and Ruggie stared at the door. It was slightly ajar. Something inside was definitely not a class.

Jack blinked. “Is that…”

Ruggie held up a hand. “Wait.”

“…You gonna keep me against this wall all day, or are you finally gonna be useful…?”

“Not if you keep running your damn mouth.”

Ruggie snorted, eyes lighting up with realization. “Oh, Seven. Oh, Seven. I knew it! Those fake ass freaks!”

“What?” Jack whispered.

Before Jack could stop him, Ruggie shoved the door open just a bit more and peeked inside.

There, in the dim light of the empty classroom, Leona had you pinned against a desk. His lips were on yours like he hadn’t breathed in days, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping your waist. Your legs were around his hips, your hands clutching his shirt, and you looked just as into it as he did.

Leona murmured something that swallowed by your mouth.

Jack’s brain short circuited. Ruggie, on the other hand, casually pulled out his phone and snapped a photo.

Click.

The sound was soft, but Leona’s ear twitched.

You froze. Leona pulled back, eyes narrowing toward the door.

“…Did you hear that?” you whispered.

“Deam right I did.”

The door creaked open a few inches more… and there stood Jack, pale with shock, and Ruggie, grinning like the hyena he was.

You stared.

Leona sighed. “Of course it’s you two.”

“…I… I don’t…” Jack stammered. “You… You’re together?!”

You adjusted your shirt and hopped down from the desk, crossing your arms. “You say that like it’s some kind of crime.”

“But you hate each other,” Jack insisted.

Ruggie burst out laughing. “Hate? Bro, they were in each other mouths, they’re clearly in love.”

Leona clicked his tongue. “Tch. We like to keep things fun. And mostly private.”

Jack still hadn’t moved. “I need to sit down.”

“You’re standing in a classroom,” Leona deadpanned. “Pick a chair.”

As Jack slowly shuffled in to collapse into one of the chairs, Ruggie was still scrolling through the photo he took. “I knew I’d win that bet. Azul’s gonna be so salty. I’m robbing a bank tonight.”

You rubbed your temples. “You bet on us?”

“Please,” Ruggie grinned. “Half the school did. We just all thought it would be a murder before it was a make out.”

Jack shook his head. “This is so much worse than I thought…”

You reached over and tousled his hair. “Relax. We’re not toxic, we’re just… dramatic? Passionate?”

Leona pulled you close again, arm around your waist. “I’m passionate. She’s just got a big mouth.”

You elbowed him. “And you’ve got a big ego.”

He smirked. “You like it.”

Jack groaned. “Please. Stop talking...”

Ruggie was still cackling, already texting someone.

“I told you,” he muttered between laughs.

You and Leona shared a smirk.

Jack buried his face into his hands “This is messed up…”

You just giggled at his reaction, feeling sorry for him for finding out the truth in this shocking way.

But hey… leona already warned him

If you keep digging, you’re gonna find bones what’s buried for a reason.

..............................................................................................................................

[hn4hqr]

Shenhe reader(who's half human & half demon) in KPDH

a/n: ➢ one-sided crush(on Rumi's part) I haven't decided whether you, the reader will reciprocate her feelings ➢ the time skips refer to the timestamps of the scenes in the movie ➢ credit to cafekitsune for the divider ➢ this is both personality and looks wise

The cold breeze of the bustling night city brushed past your shoulders, a coldness you're far too familiar with—a clawing sensation that devoured your being whole. The clacking of your heels was eerily slow, steady, and precise. Your every move calculated and it sent shivers down the spine of the abomination of a creature that stood before you. It lunged at you but in the blink of an eye, the demon was already gone. You shifted your gaze to the giant billboard displaying the girl group HUNTRIX and wondered to yourself just how soon you would cross paths with them.

▷ time skip to 24:00

"Yay! Once your voice is fixed, we can get back to the important stuff, like the fans." "Fans!" "We can't let them see us!" "Hurry!" "Be cool. Look normal."

The girls continued to walk and tried to look normal while doing so but then, they stopped in their tracks when they saw... you. You seemed unreal with your ethereal beauty. They gaped at you. With your braided silver white hair, pale iridescent eyes, and a serene expression on your face, how could they not? You had unintentionally bumped into the girl with braided purple hair causing her to drop the box she was carrying. You lend her your hand to help her get back up, she stares at you for quite a while though before taking it.

"I'm sorry for bumping into you Miss. Are you alright?" "Mhm! Yep! I'm the one who should be apologizing for staring at you, I'm so sorry!"—the girl frantically replied "It's alright Miss but I should get going now, apologies again and please be careful next time."

The girls watched your retreating figure until you were out of sight and they turned to look at each other.

"We've finally crossed paths HUNTRIX."

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! She's so pretty! Don't you guys think so too?!" "Heck yeah! Her looks are absolutely killer! What do you think Rumi?" "Stunning.." was all Rumi managed to say "Looks like she really stunned you, huh Rumi?"—Zoey giggled at her friend's expression "I wonder why she wears those red ropes around her shoulders though, such an odd fashion choice."

The girls' chatter was interrupted by the sound of music playing in the distance and they went to check it out.

▷ time skip to 26:15

-Soda Pop by Saja Boys- 01:43 ━━━━●───── 02:51 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

"A new boy band?"—asked Rumi "It is annoyingly catchy, though." "It's infectious." "They can make hearts out of thin air?" *gasps* "They're demons!" "Magicians! Demons. Obviously demons." "Dang, they're good." "Incredible. But a demon boy band? Why?" "I don't care. A demon's a demon. We kill them." "No, it's too public." "What if they try to kill these people?" "It doesn't look like they're gonna hurt anyone." "In fact, it almost seems like they're nice demons?" "Demons are never nice!" "They're coming after the fans. We gotta stop this now."

"That's it for now." "See you tonight on everyone's favorite variety show." "Saja Boys love you!"

"To be fair, that's also something a magician would do." "Oh, those are demons. And we're gonna kill them." "Let's get battle ready."

Little did the girls know that you haven't truly left the area and had been watching everything that just unfolded.

▷ time skip to 31:05

"Let's go get these guys." "We finally get to go to the bathhouse with Rumi!" "Men's?" "Wow. Did you really follow us in here?" "I knew they would. That one's always looking at me." "No we're not." "You think we're just gonna let you steal our fans?" "You're gonna have to fight us for them." "Yeah. Keep your hands off our Honmoon." "We're not here to fight. They are." "Water demons." "Oh great. My favorite." "Get rid of the Hunters. Then you can eat all the souls you want."

▷ time skip to 32:34

"Rumi!" "What are you doing? Where are you?" "Rumi, We need you!"

Suddenly, out of nowhere. Rumi felt someone grab her, pulling her to their chest and then let go of her. She stumbled back flustered and then she saw you. Rumi turned to her friends who were screaming her name in need of her help and as she was about to throw her sword, you threw your spear first.

"Snap out of it Rumi."—you told her "R-Right!"—the girl stuttered, still flustered at your sudden appearance and by the recent physical exchange that just occurred between the two of you

Both of you lunged and attacked the demons, the other 2 girls fighting by your side as well—completely eliminating all of the demons. Your fighting style was elegant, you moved like a graceful crane and this didn't go unnoticed by the girls.

"Hey! This is the men's bathhouse. Get out of here."

The girls hurriedly walked out while you calmly followed them. Once the four of you had reached a safe and isolated area. The girls turned to look at you not knowing what to say and yet had so many questions they wanted to ask you.

"Are you... a demon hunter just like us?"—the first to break the silence was Zoey "Yeah, you moved like an experienced demon hunter back there but I thought only three girls in every generation would be chosen as demon hunters. How could there be another one of us? Rumi, do you think Celine knows anything regarding this?"—Mira questioned "I don't know.." "It's true that three girls in every generation would be chosen as demon hunters but nevertheless, I was trained as one and yes, I am a demon hunter like the three of you."—you finally broke your silence "Who trained you?"—asked Rumi "I was trained by my master Xianyun." "I've never heard of her before.. who is she exactly?"—asked Zoey "She too was a demon hunter but she worked in the shadows and so do I. Both her and I only eliminate demons, we don't sing—we leave that up to the other three demon hunters." "I'm actually interested in meeting this master of yours who's managed to teach you so well the art of demon fighting. Would it be alright with you if you ask your master if she, you, and the three of us could meet up?"—said Mira "Sure, I don't mind. Oh, and I have to get going again. See you girls next time." "WAIT!"—shouted Rumi "What's your name?" "[name]" "[name]... a beautiful name, just like the one who beholds it"—and just like that, you left as quickly as you appeared

a/n: if this gets a good amount of likes & reblogs overall & if I feel like it, I might do a part 2

[jollyhunter]

Aight, let's get down to this. *cracks knuckles* (not in the riot starting kinda way).

Okay, I'm ready for the Angst.

Have you ever noticed that closing your eyes and counting to ten does little when you're talking to the most odious person alive?

Your intros always take me off guard in the most hilarious way 🤣 Just like this;

2. You brought a tuna fish sandwich from home and he could somehow smell it two floors down.

I mean. I can almost understand how that one can be annoying. But I don't want to agree with the Warden and therefore I'll let it slip 😂

At least on paper, the things you'd done in your head were a little more PG-13 than the Warden needed to know about. Hell, you still were trying your best not to let your mind go to those places.

LOL I love this reader so much. She's got that Golden Retriever / Sunshine personality but in her head she's just as naughty as all of us 🤭 ... Good thing the Warden can't read minds. The things he'd see there 😂

You briefly wonder if he's always been like this or if he's having marital problems that he projects on everyone else.

Bahaha - definitely the latter. My old highschool teacher was the same. Absolute ass. The day his wife dropped by, we all knew why 🤣 (didn't justify it though and neither did we feel sorry for him lol)

Looks like somebody has been talking to my mother.

LMAO - not me instantly imagining her mother and the Warden meeting up every Wednesday for a cuppa afternoon tea to gossip about her daughter

'the douchebag professor who thinks that he knows everything, but really just stares down your blouse and likes keeping you quiet and submissive.'

What an accurate way to describe a pose we all immediately recognize 😂 (and has us recoil and clench our jaws). You always manage to describe things in such unique ways which are either beautiful or have me crack up LOL!

This is much worse than someone stealing my chocolate, and that's saying something.

This reader is growing on me. She's got her priorities set right 😂 and her heart is in the right place 💗 She really is the perfect opposites-attract puzzle piece to Mark isn't she?

"I'm sure Walker will have a lot of fun getting his hands on a pretty little thing like you, with no one to stop him and no one to hear you scream. And for men like him," Something dark flickers in his eyes sending a shudder down your spine as he leans down towards you. "Hearing those screams makes them feel alive."

Okay I just wanted to throttle the Warden at this point. The fact that he says these things even though he knows that Walker's not a real criminal, just makes this ten times more disgusting. I hope he gets kicked in the family jewels in a riot or somebody knocks him over with his car!

Walker's eyes have gone dark, the playful gleam you'd grown to love vanishing, his mischievous smirk morphed into an angry scowl as he throws his fist into the other inmate's face. Blood flecks over his cheeks and across his knuckles, and despite the guards that try to pull him off the other man, Walker fights back hard.

HERE COMES THE MISUNDERSTANDIG - OH NO.

Also, very clever how you played with the canon scene here! I love how we all try to integrate those and give them a different twist or perspective 😄 (I've got something planned with that one as well 🤭)

Like when you switched to Mark's perspective and played the entire scene once more. Genius move!! And so effective!!

She wears crazy socks for fucks sake! A woman like her should be working in one of the top hospitals in the country, not here!

EXACTLY. And that's why she fits you so well, Mark! You're like a pair of mismatched socks! (I LOVE his internal monologues so much, overall his entire perspective was so intriguing and well done - I don't know about you but I felt like you nailed his character!!)

Because where could this go? He finally gets out of prison only to tell you that he's on death row? A dead man walking? Might as well just throw him right back in the fucking clink, he was already waiting out a death sentence and as long as he was making some kind of difference who cares?

NO - MARK STAHP IT. His final thoughts on this and with the misunderstanding on top?? Oh man, the next chapter is going to hit hard, I can already smell the angst. Why are you doing this to us! 😭 (jk, you know I love it)

He hated the days that he let another inmate land a punch only to find the buffoon with the duct taped Nikes waiting for him in the infirmary. Talk about disappointing.

Sorry but this had me snort, poor Mark! 🤣

What an awesome second chapter to this storyline, Lee! 🥰 It started out comedic and took an angsty turn real fast. I am kinda scared of the next one now lol! But I also want to know what's going to happen next. Will the misunderstanding lead to even more misunderstandings?? Will we get introduced to the duct taped Nikes buffoon? Will she be scared of Mark / Walker now and the Warden's going to be all like "Told you so." ? 😭

I Want To Be The One To Light Up The Dark In You

Pairing: Mark Meachum x f!reader, Reader POV, Mark Meachum POV

Summary: As much as you hate to admit it, the Warden might be right. This is the second fic in my Jailhouse Rock Series!

Tropes: Slow Burn, Forbidden Love, A Smidge Of Touch Her And Die Trope, Mutual Pining.

Word Count: 4.4K

Warnings: Manspreading 😒, Mentions of Sex/ Sexual Innuendo, Mentions of Blood and Prison Fights, Cursing, Angst, Inmate Says A Few *ahem* Unpleasant Things, Warden Also Says A Few Unpleasant Things, Reader trying not to be in love with a hot man in prison? Mark might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n! I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite! I'm just starting to write for Mark, so please be gentle.

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Listen While You Read 🚨: Light Up The Dark By Gabrielle Aplin title of fic is taken from this song!

Jailhouse Rock Playlist 🚨

Main Masterlist

Jailhouse Rock Masterlist

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you so much everyone for all the reblogs and the wonderful feedback on part one of this fic series! I'm so happy that so many of you have decided to strap in to this angsty ride! 😊

Reader POV

Have you ever noticed that closing your eyes and counting to ten does little when you're talking to the most odious person alive?

That by some miracle, closing your eyes and pretending that they aren't there standing in front of you, breathing the same air, chattering on and on in the most annoying and condescending voice about something that makes your teeth grind down together and your insides suddenly want to be your outsides will help you find some way to maintain your composure?

Right now you wished it did.

Black coffee steamed from the ancient chipped mug sitting on the tanker desk in front of you, curling and twisting in the mid-day sun that floated through the barred windows of the Warden's office.

It did little to obscure the man scowling at you from under his mustache, but you wished that by some miracle the steam would grow into a cloud to hide you from the judgmental gaze of your employer.

What you'd done, you had no idea, but you noticed that the warden was often pulling you into his office to discuss things that seemed trivial in the grand scheme of things.

Things like:

You forgot to clean off your desk before you went home.

You brought a tuna fish sandwich from home and he could somehow smell it two floors down.

Your socks were distracting and therefore counterproductive to the work environment.

Basically, the warden was the mean cheerleader who dated all the jocks and never grew up.

Lovely.

So when he called you into his office you knew you were in for another tongue lashing that would later make you roll your eyes so hard that they'd get stuck in the back of your head.

He sits across from you, hands entwined on the top of his desk, beady eyes skating across you as if he can sense your internal monologue.

"I hear that you had to patch up Walker again yesterday." He says it like an accusation, as if it isn't your job to take care of the inmates, to patch them up when things get a little too fight club for your taste.

No disrespect to Brad Pitt and Ed Norton of course.

"Yes sir."

You'd learned by now to call him anything other than Warden or Sir would earn you a taste of the famous anger (re temper tantrums) the Warden had.

You'd been on the receiving end of them far too many times and despite not caring if he was mad at you or not, you didn't have time to sit here in his office and wait around, not when you were trying to leave early because your sister Margo and you had your weekly book club meeting tonight at your apartment.

The Warden takes a sip of his coffee, mustache rippling over the curve of the chipped cup, not breaking eye contact with you as he does.

There's an odd energy in the room, something oppressive and faintly masculine. It's cloying presence pulls at your limbs, shifts over the dark wood cabinet behind the desk, and drags over the concrete slab floor that ran the length of the prison. It was the same kind of energy that you'd only found in your physics professor's office, the one who told you that you'd never be able to pass his course with your academic record and you then spent the semester proving him wrong.

The walls of his office are painted in the same dreary gray that ghosted along the infirmary. You supposed that it was to make the room look bigger, but it only made it feel small, choking.

Instead of closing your eyes and counting to ten, you busy yourself with reading the titles of the books that line the dark wooden cabinet behind the Warden's head.

Anything is better than looking into those creepy beady eyes.

Especially not when you knew that the Warden was fishing for something to hold over you. Even though the only thing you'd done with Walker was your job. At least on paper, the things you'd done in your head were a little more PG-13 than the Warden needed to know about. Hell, you still were trying your best not to let your mind go to those places.

The Warden's gaze shifts over your body again. It worms beneath your skin, oppressive, squirmy. It was the same look that he gave the rest of the inmates within the walls of the prison to keep them in submission. You briefly wonder if he's always been like this or if he's having marital problems that he projects on everyone else.

"I also hear that you've been-" He clears his throat, beady eyes on you. "a little more friendly with him." His lip curls up in distaste at the word "friendly."

Oh so that's what this is about.

You choose to let your face remain impassive, not giving the man across from you eyeing you like a predatory bird the satisfaction.

"Sir?"

The Warden stands from his desk. "Do you know what the most dangerous thing in our profession is?"

"Shanks?"

The word came out before you could stop it, slipping out with the ghost of a smile on your lips.

His frown deepens. "Now isn't the time for your exhaustive wit."

Looks like somebody has been talking to my mother.

He comes around the desk, every step measured, before finally he's leaning against the front in the ultimate form of man-spreading, the highest level, also known as 'the douchebag professor who thinks that he knows everything, but really just stares down your blouse and likes keeping you quiet and submissive.'

"It's getting comfortable, believing that they can be your friends, not seeing them for what they really are-"

"What they really are?"

"Inconveniences, nuisances, trash, rubbish- the undesirables." The Warden shrugs. "But what they can never be is your friends."

Your jaw tightens.

The truth was, you had heard all of this before from your mother, usually when she was trying to talk you out of keeping your job at the prison.  She'd told you countless times how all of the inmates didn't deserve you as a doctor and therefore you should move on, but you couldn't. You took an oath to help people, to heal, to care, and you felt like you were where you needed to be.

The bigger problem, was hearing this kind of talk from someone who not only was supposed to oversee and run the prison, but also see the worth of his job, of seeing the positives as well as the negatives. He was not supposed to look down on the inmates.

Who does he think he is? The President of the United States?! He has no right to judge these men that way. Not when he's supposed to be the voice of reason, the leader, the one person in this damn prison who actually gives a fuck.

"Sir-" Anger flares in your chest, beating against your ribcage like the wings of a bird.

"Come on." He stands from the desk and walks to his office door behind him.

"What?"

"I want to show you something."

The Warden doesn't wait for you, in fact he continues to walk down the maze of hallways with you running to catch up with him. You had no idea why he couldn't just chew you out in his office for something that you didn't deserve to be chewed out for.

For actually giving a shit about his inmates... well maybe caring a little bit too much.

Your thoughts immediately shift to Walker as they always did whenever all went quiet in your mind and you couldn't think of anyone else.

There was a little part of you that you didn't want to heed, the rational part of your brain that said that Walker was playing you like a fiddle, that he didn't care about you and all he wanted was to charm you so it would be easier for him to use you.

That part usually warred with the other part, the part that kept letting the green-eyed man slip into your thoughts when you felt discouraged and disappointed by the other men in your life that never quite seemed to get you.

The Warden opens a door at the end of the hallway, the brilliant sunlight blinding you for a moment, before you realize that the two of you are standing in the inner gate looking out onto the yard.

Inmates mill around in groups while others move in a grayish blue blur through the crowds with the sun baking from above. Some play a game of basketball in the far corner while others lift weights.

Dust kicks up in twisted clouds around their feet with the wind that blows from the East, wicking the sweat that gathers on the back of your neck. Grass pushes up through the coarse earth in sporadic patches only to be stomped into submission by the white canvas prison regulation tennis shoes the inmates wore. The murmur of the prisoners, the heavy clink of weights, and bounce of a basketball against pavement is lost on the wind.

You find Walker almost immediately. It’s a compulsion, like magnets, as if you can’t help but look for the scruffy green-eyed man who’s entered your subconscious despite all the times you’ve told yourself that it can’t happen. Your mind automatically seeking him out for some relief, a bad habit you can't seem to break.

He's sitting on top of one of the concrete picnic tables on the far end of the yard, talking to a younger guy with hair so black it's almost the color of charcoal.

The breeze rustles through Walker's hair that blazes a honeyed chestnut in the mid-day sun, the same sun that paints his body in a golden glow. You know that if you were standing beside him you’d be able to see the flecks of gold like falling stars around his eyes, that crinkle with his boisterous laugh.

Walker laughs at something the dark-haired inmate says, his warm chuckle somehow finding the curve of your ear as if he's standing right next to you and even though you haven’t been able to hear anything else it comes across clear as day.

An alarm bell goes off in your head, because you know this is crazy. You knew better than to start thinking about an inmate the way you thought about Walker. Even if he was incredibly charming, funny, and had eyes that seemed to see through everything you were.

Damn it.

There was only one place that this could head, and it was already circling the drain, you just needed to pull the plug before you were in too deep.

Feels like it might be too late for that.

Walker's gaze flicks up from his companion to you, finding your eyes within seconds of you finding him, as if he sensed it. You hold his gaze, a smile twitching at the end of his mouth just for a moment, before he looks back at the man beside him. If you’d blinked you would have missed it.

Unfortunately, the Warden didn't miss it either.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." He says.

"What?"

"You give them too much leash."

"They're not dogs." You grumble under your breath.

"You're right. They're not. They're wolves." The Warden spits, eyes narrowed as he turns to look at you. He takes a step in your direction, backing you up against the chain link fence. "You can't tame them and the second you turn your back, they'll rip your throat out."

His eyes are two blackened pits, the sunlight no longer a soft glow, but a striking white that blinds you momentarily as you look up into his face. The planes of his face are sharpened in the dark shadow of his gray cowboy hat. He looks every bit the Warden role he'd chosen to play.

"You don't know that. Just because they're prisoners does not make them any less human than you and me!" You snap back.

Anger flared red hot beneath your skin, bubbling up from the pit of your stomach like a volcano ready to erupt. You hated the way that he spoke about the inmates, haughty, prideful, arrogant, as if they were below him somehow when all they were was just men. Men who maybe had made a few mistakes, but you were willing to believe that with the bad came the good, that not all of them could be psychos that were locked up for the "betterment of society."

"Yes I do. I've been here a hell of a lot longer than you. See this happen time and time again." He snarls taking another step towards you. The chain link cuts through the back of you scrubs, harsh and unyielding, meant to keep the inmates in but somehow now feel like it's trying to keep you out. "Let me guess, you think that life has been unkind to them. That not one of them deserves to be within these walls."

"That's not what I'm-"

"Did I say that I was done?" He barks.

Your jaw tenses so tightly together that you're sure you'll get TMJ.

He spoke to you like you were a little girl who'd done something wrong and was sent to the principal's office as if you were living in some imaginary world filled with rainbows and unicorns or still believed in Santa.

There were only a few moments in your life that you admitted to absolutely hating someone, and this would go right on the list as number five. Number one was Sally Caruthers in second grade who took your pudding cup at snack time.

This is much worse than someone stealing my chocolate, and that's saying something.

But worse still was that he was assuming you only saw the good in the world, but he was wrong. Your father had told you enough stories from his job growing up, things that were said to you in warning to prepare you for when you struck out on your own. You weren't naïve, far from it, but you didn't believe that everyone was rotten to the core, you wanted to believe that everyone had some good hidden somewhere.

It was that way with Walker. You'd seen his file, knew what he did, but there was a part of you that wanted to believe that he wasn't all bad.

The thought stutters to a halt.

Do I really believe that? Or do I think that just because of the way he's always nice to me… Only when he needs something.

You glance over your shoulder to look at where Walker is sitting with the other inmate, but instead of being locked in conversation, Walker's entire body has gone rigid.

He's staring at where the Warden has you cornered against the chain length fence, eyes dark, with his hand curled against the concrete slab that serves as the top of the table pulled so tight that his knuckles look white. Something dark dances in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.

You’d never seen him like that before. Easy smiles, windswept hair, green eyes so bright they seemed to dance yes. But this? Seeing Walker with something akin to murder in his eyes, never.

It made your throat tighten.

"You think they hate being in here? That it’s some dark twist of fate that they’re imprisoned here?” The Warden asks with a sneer. "They aren’t. In here they think they're kings, gods, who assert their power however they see fit. Because out there they are nothing,  but in here they think they're untouchable, and Walker is the worst of them all."

"You don't know that-" Your voice comes out in a whisper, heart sinking.

"I do." The Warden towers over you, placing one of his hands against the unyielding metal of the chain-length fence. His fingers curl into the space to cage you in. The warmth of his breath wafts across your face, bringing the distinct smell of coffee.

It made your stomach feel like it was flopping around, a fish out of water.

"He doesn't give a shit about you, none of the prisoners do. It might be all smiles and jokes now, but the second the status quo changes, the exact moment there aren't any guards looking, no one to stop him, well-" The Warden smiles cruelly. "I'm sure Walker will have a lot of fun getting his hands on a pretty little thing like you, with no one to stop him and no one to hear you scream. And for men like him," Something dark flickers in his eyes sending a shudder down your spine as he leans down towards you. "Hearing those screams makes them feel alive."

The sunlight soaking into your bones has suddenly gone cold, fear tracing along the curve of your spine with a chilled fingertip.

Memories of the stories your father told you from years in this world come whispering against your ear, stories that used to keep your sister up at night and made her the kind of woman that had a bright pink keychain loaded with every self-defense tool known to man.

When you'd taken this job your father had issued the same warning, told you about the dangers of desperate men who had nothing to lose.

"They're wrong," He'd said one night while the two of you watched an episode of the Walking Dead, sighing at the screen. "Men like that don't come around when everything falls apart. They already exist and the dangerous ones aren't the ones that wear it proudly on their sleeves. The dangerous ones are the men who hide in plain sight with easy smiles and gentle touches, because when they flip the switch, you don't see it coming."

On some level you knew that the Warden was right, men like that existed everywhere, but you didn't want to believe that Walker was one of them. Just as you didn't want to believe that everyone was out to get you all the time, that would lead to a very lonely existence, a sad and somewhat dark existence.

A flash of Walker's dark eyes comes roaring back through your subconscious before you can stop it. In his gaze you hadn't seen the Walker you knew, you'd seen someone else. And the longer you thought about it, the more it snagged in your chest that maybe Walker wasn't as charming as he let on and maybe he was getting you exactly where he wanted before the façade dropped.

An alarm sounds from across the yard, shattering through the sounds of mid-day and sending the crows that gathered on the top of the barbed wire fences flocking across the sun.

"Look at him." The Warden grabs your shoulder and turns you around so fast that you feel dizzy for a moment. "You think that man is a puppy? He's a damn wolf in sheep's clothing sweetheart and the second you turn your back they'll be nothing you can do."

Your gaze focuses on Walker, who sits atop another inmate splayed out beneath him on the ground. Walker's eyes have gone dark, the playful gleam you'd grown to love vanishing, his mischievous smirk morphed into an angry scowl as he throws his fist into the other inmate's face. Blood flecks over his cheeks and across his knuckles, and despite the guards that try to pull him off the other man, Walker fights back hard.

His eyes flicker across the yard once again finding you, but this time it doesn't bring the same warmth that it usually does, all it does is bring the chill scuttling down the length of your spine. Because the man staring back at you, has not one shred of the Walker you know, and it brings the doubt surging back up to swallow you whole.

Mark POV

*Five Minutes Ago*

It was moments like this that Mark hated being undercover.

He wasn't one to complain, and truthfully he liked a lot of things about being undercover: the improv as he slipped into character, the bravado he exuded, the rush of adrenaline that snapped and crackled through his veins when things were going his way and also the same lightning bolt that energized him when things weren't…

But not right now.

Especially not now.

It wasn't the sun that baked against his freckled skin, it wasn't the inmates that whispered death threats under their breath whenever they passed or the ones that actually had the balls to act on, it wasn't the chill that came in the dead of night creeping beneath the metal doors and seeped through the cinderblock when he tried to tug the hole riddled blanket up over his body, and it wasn't the headache that pinched between his eyebrows, the same headaches that came at the most inopportune times and reminded him of the thing he was trying to forget.

The axe that hung over the chopping block, the ticking time bomb in his head with a nuclear level countdown sequence that no one could stop.

But he wasn't thinking about any of that, all he was thinking about was you.

Mark knew the second you appeared on the edge of the chain length fence enclosing the yard following after the Warden something was wrong.

Because you weren't smiling.

There was never one moment that Mark had seen you with a frown on your face, not when each time you smiled he felt something deep down inside of him break open and flood the cavity in his chest with warmth. Which only made him feel a hell of a lot of guilt. He was undercover for fucks sake, he needed to focus on what he was doing not get distracted by someone like you…

But he was.

You were so unlike any person he'd ever met, someone who shouldn't exist somewhere like this. Not with your sincere smiles, warm personality, and genuine caring attitude that you carried with you through the dismal halls of the prison. It was almost like there was this one bright light that flickered and shone despite the thick mortar and cinderblock that enclosed the rest of the inmates, a light that could so easily be blown out at a moment's notice.

She wears crazy socks for fucks sake! A woman like her should be working in one of the top hospitals in the country, not here!

And Mark knew that he shouldn't care about you as much as he did, not when he was undercover and especially not because his days were numbered.

Because where could this go? He finally gets out of prison only to tell you that he's on death row? A dead man walking? Might as well just throw him right back in the fucking clink, he was already waiting out a death sentence and as long as he was making some kind of difference who cares?

What was the point if he couldn't give you what you deserved?

But that did nothing to stop you from slipping into his subconscious. The sound of your laugh a soothing melody, the brief glimpse of your smile like a star falling from heaven, and the gentle touch of your fingers over his skin a calming balm whenever you patched him up.

Mark had to keep reminding himself that you were nothing but a distraction, not to mention a complication that he never saw coming, blindsided by your kindness and gentle demeanor.

I'm a fucking professional not some cockeyed rookie. I've done this multiple times why is she different!? Why now?

Mark tried his hardest not to think about you, not when he was supposed to be focused on the job, but he couldn't help it, he worried about you constantly.

Worried that some other inmate or even one of the guards here would catch you alone unaware. Worried that you wouldn't pick up on the signals until it was too late and there was nowhere for you to go and Mark couldn't get to you in time.

Anything could happen in this prison, hell, Mark had seen quite a few things happen already and he couldn't bear the thought of you being involved in any of them.

Mark saw the way the others watched you when they noticed you walking down the hallways, saw the way that even the guards gazes lingered on your form whenever they brought Mark to the infirmary.

And as much as it hurt to get into fights, it was the only way that Mark could ensure seeing that you were okay, that you were still here. He hated the days that he let another inmate land a punch only to find the buffoon with the duct taped Nikes waiting for him in the infirmary.

Talk about disappointing.

Mark also tried not to think too hard that the other reason he went to see you was that it felt so damn good, that he couldn't go without seeing you at least once per week. He felt like an addict of the worst kind, but if this was an addiction he wasn't sure he ever wanted to quit, not when seeing you smile made Mark forget everything wrong in his fucked up life.

The sun kissed your skin giving it a brilliant glow and framing the curves of your body so well that Mark was sure if he closed his eyes the imprint would be stamped across the inside of his eyelids, the wind rustled through the strands of your hair pulling it freely into your face, and Mark dropped his eyes to your ankles barely catching a glimpse of the cactus socks hidden in your pair of signature converse, but still you don't smile.

An ugly feeling swarmed in the pit of Mark's stomach when his gaze drifted to the Warden. He was standing a little too close for Mark's comfort, towering over you, and Mark didn't like the way you seemed to curl slightly in on yourself, folding beneath the Warden's gaze.

He couldn't hear what you two were talking about, but he could sure as hell guess.

Mark's hand curls around the concrete table top of the picnic table when the Warden takes another step in your direction, pressing you further against the fence.

White hot rage begins to flood through his body, the urge to protect you breaking through the little voice inside that was telling him to let you go, let it go, that he's about to blow his cover for all the wrong reasons.

Fuck.

Mark hated the Warden, knew how much of an asshole he was the second Mark met with him before he went undercover, and Mark hated the way you looked.

You looked small.

Mark had never seen you look anything but happy, your laugh always making something inside of Mark feel like he was slowly sliding into a sun soaked beach chair on a remote island.

But not now. Now Mark wanted to stride over there, throw it all away, and nail the Warden once in face for saying whatever the hell it was that he was saying to you, because Mark knew that it wasn't good. It couldn't be, not when the look on your face was something between anger and hurt.

"Yo Walker!" An inmate cat-calls, but Mark ignores him.

Mark is in too deep and he knows it, but he can't look away from you. He's too busy trying to read the Warden's lips to care what someone else says to him.

"Looks like the Warden's got his eye on your little bitch." The inmate continues.

Mark's head snaps in the direction of said inmate, Luis, the man that had come to see you after him yesterday. He was at least three times Mark's size, his mouth splitting in a wide toothless smile on his goon-like face, the snake tattoo that curves up over his left eye flashing in the sunlight, offsetting the black and blue marks around his nose that mirrored the black eye on Mark's face.

"Fuck off."

"Ooo, touchy." Luis continues, rubbing one hand over his bald, sweaty forehead. Mark watches his gaze flick back in your direction, raking over your body without your knowledge. You were far too focused on the Warden who had cornered you against the chain-length fence like you were some kind of animal. "I'll say this, she's cute. Got that kind of body I wouldn't mind having all to myself. Bet she'd moan my name real pretty."

Mark's teeth grit together so hard he can hear the grinding in his ears, but he doesn't give in.

Don't play his game. Don't blow this because of her-

Chen looks from Mark to Luis, eyes wide. He had just started to trust Mark, and Mark didn't want to throw that all away so he ignores the man egging him on and instead watches where you are with the Warden.

"Fuck, I got a semi the other day when she was patching me up." Luis continues, taking another step towards Mark with two of his goons flanking him. "Her hands are so soft, I can't imagine what it'd feel like if she put those hands all over my co-"

The rest of his sentence is lost in the haze of red that washes over Mark's mind. He doesn't remember rising from the picnic table, doesn’t remember tackling Luis to the ground, and doesn't remember the first punch he throws into his face or the second or the third.

All he knows is that the moment the guards pull him off of Luis, whose nose is now broken for the second time, and his eyes find yours across the yard, and he sees the look of horror that crosses your face is that he messed up. Because Mark can lie to himself all day long, tell himself that he doesn't care about you, but seeing you look at him like that makes him want to throw all of this away.

And that's what scares him the most, because he can't, not when this is all he is and ever can be and you're everything else.

A/N: Just a tinsy bit of angst, a sprinkle if you will... Yes I know canonically that the Warden knows that Mark is undercover, I just wanted to make the Warden an even bigger jerk for warning her about Mark.

Taglist:

@jollyhunter @zepskies @waynes-multiverse @roseblue373 @angrydragon90

@kmc1989 @lunaleah @megara0224 @globetrotter98 @ladykitana90

@youroldfashioned @wonderland2022 @hellsbratonthet @moosewithabackstory @wvffles

@beakaleak32 @caroline-brooks @agentorange9595 @spxideyver

@hobby27 @anna-reid23 @britt217 @ralilda @lori19 @iamasimpingh0e

[miffyscakes]

Acta Non Verba; Deeds, Not Words

SYNOPSIS: Despite growing up in Zaun, you never learned how to fight. Once Sevika finds out, she yearns to teach you how to fight just in case something were to ever happen.

WARNINGS: fluff, Sevika is slightlyyy older than reader but it's not a huge difference (5 year difference?), reader doesn't know how to fight

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

A/N: one of my FAVVVV blogs js followed me and I am so excited

As someone who's grown up in Zaun, you're expected to know how to defend yourself.

How to fight.

However, you've never been in a situation where you had to fight someone. Growing up it was always your siblings who fought for you, so you never bothered to learn how to even now.

You're not incapable of defending yourself though.

You know how to escape from situations that you know you should avoid.

You knew basic self defence moves.

Like you knew to go for the person's eyes.

You knew how to push your whole weight down on someone to pin them down.

Stuff like that.

But, if you were ever in a situation where you had to fight someone face-to-face, you know that you'd lose. However despite the lack of combat knowledge you made it up with your intelligence.

Intelligence can only get you so far though.

One night, you and Sevika walking late at night through the streets of Zaun. You two weren't speaking, just enjoying each other's company as the distant sounds of chatter and crickets filled the air.

You two almost made it to your shared apartment before suddenly being ambushed by some guy that you didn't even recognize.

Before you could panic.

Before you could flee.

He was suddenly just on the ground - knocked out cold by Sevika.

She sighed like it was nothing - like being ambushed was an inconvenience for her. However, for you, being ambushed made you feel like your soul just jumped out of your body. To you, it felt like the end of the world.

Sevika noticed how panicked you were, which had confused her as the guy hadn't even opposed much of a threat considering how scrawny he was.

"You ok, sweetheart?" She questions, standing back beside you once more.

You nod, still seeming a little shaken up despite you knowing that he couldn't have done much harm.

"... Why're you so freaked out?" Sevika asks, genuinely wondering why you felt so threatened by the scrawny man.

As you two walked into your shared home you admitted the lack of knowledge you had when it came to combat. This had surprised Sevika as she responded with a bewildered, "wait huh," as she sat on the couch.

You locked the door of your apartment, before you suddenly saw the sight of Sevika's familiar shadow tower over you. You turn around, confused.

"Punch me," she demands.

You laugh at her request, thinking she's just joking. However, she doesn't laugh.

Her face stays serious as her grey eyes stare directly into yours.

"C'mon," she says, "do it."

You roll your eyes and punch her, using no effort as your fist makes contact with her chest.

She doesn't even flinch.

"You have to hold your fists like this," she demonstrates using her hands.

"Don't put your thumb inside, unless you want to break it," she chuckles. You shift awkwardly, wondering why Sevika is giving you a fighting lesson so randomly. You ball your fists up in the way that she had shown you and punch her again with a little more force.

You feel ridiculous as you attempt to punch Sevika.

Your stance is stiff.

Your fists are soft.

You've never been a fighter.

She's the fighter between you two - obviously.

She continues to stare into your eyes as you hesitantly throw another punch to her body. She's able to see every hint of nervousness as she stares.

Before you're able to make contact with her body, she catches your fist mid-air.

"Have you really never punched anyone?" She questions.

"No?" You roll your eyes at her.

"The attitude is a little unnecessary y'know," she chuckles, your fist still in her hand.

"I don't want to do this," you groan.

"Well, you should at least know how to do this just in case," she lets go of your fist.

You cross your arms and stare up at your girlfriend, glaring at her.

"Ugh," you groan, "it's pointless for me to learn it."

She looks at you, face full of irony.

You simply kick your shoes off before walking into the bathroom so you can get ready for bed. You hear Sevika in your guys' shared bedroom, changing into what you already know to be her grey tank top and sweatpants that she refuses to take off.

You're just glad that you are able to take it out of her grip so you can wash it..

While you brush your teeth, you can't help but feel embarrassed.

You feel embarrassed at how weak you noticeably are compared to Sevika; the fact that your punches just minutes ago barely even made her flinch just made you feel more insecure. As you open the bathroom door you get frightened by Sevika as she towers over you by the doorframe.

"What?" You groan, assuming she was there to complain about how long you took in the bathroom.

"You're not weak, y'know," she tells you, leaning against the door frame. "Don't think that."

You look up into her grey eyes, confused.

"...I'm not?"

"You are," you sighs, "I can see it on your face."

You groan, walking towards the bedroom and plopping yourself onto the mattress you two share.

"I just," she sighs from the bathroom.

"... just learn how to fight, just in case," she says, following you to the bedroom. She leans on the doorframe again, staring at you.

You both knew what she meant by just in case, but neither of you said anything.

"Fine," you sigh, standing up from the mattress and walking towards her.

"C'mon, doll," she smirks as she walks towards your guys' living room.

"Right now...?" You groan, not wanting to spend your late night play fighting with Sevika.

"Yes right now," she mocks you - lovingly.

You two stand in the middle of the living room.

You feel intimidated as she stands opposite of you in that familiar fighting stance that you've seen her use so often. However, when she notices the hint of nervousness on your face she's quick to change her posture.

"Shit," she mumbles as she shifts into a more relaxed pose, "sorry."

"Ok," she demands, "charge at me with all your weight and try to push me down."

You sigh before charging into her body.

However, you feel yourself heat up in embarrassment as you realize how little her body reacted.

She hardly even repositioned her feet.

"...Was that it?" She stifles her laugh from you.

You scold her for making fun of you, "it's not my fault that you're so huge."

She raises her eyebrow at you and scoffs, "and it's not my fault that you're too much of a princess to learn how to fight."

Hearing her say that fuels some form of anger within you.

You shove her down - harder this time.

"There you go," she chuckles.

However, her encouragement gets cut off as you - somehow - push her down to the ground. You manage to straddle over her muscular body. You spot the smile on her face - despite her efforts to hide it.

"Good job," she encouraged you before placing her rough lips on yours.

"You're enjoying this too much," you scoff as she pulls her lips away from yours.

"Of course I am," she chuckles as she effortlessly moves you off of her. "You look good when you're all riled up like this."

You roll your eyes as you stand up from the carpet.

"Now," her hands holds onto yours - which are also noticeably smaller than hers.

She gently manipulates your limbs into a proper fighting stance - the same one that you see her use so often. You feel the front of her muscular body push up against your back.

As her body pushes close against yours her scent fills your nose.

The scent of smoke, wood, and frankincense.

"You comfortable?" She asks softly, wanting to make sure that she isn't possibly hurting you.

You nod, "mhm."

"Ok," she mumbles, still moving your body around gently.

You can barely hear what she's saying to you. Her body is so close to yours that you can't help but feel flustered.

"Tell me if you're uncomfortable," she says.

You smile and nod softly - still breathing in her comforting scent.

You can't help but feel so lucky to have her in your life, even if sometimes life can be a difficult.

taglist: @poeticrenaissance @freakyjorker @lipglosskxsses

[justauthoring]

The Allure of You.

Request: Can I request Felix x reader fluff? I keep playing the new Solo Leveling op of LiSA feat Felix called Reawaken. I was wondering if you could write a fluff to where reader keeps gushing about it. Like just listens on repeat (iam obsessed with the song). And just keeps praising Felix and he gets flustered. This can either be romantic or platonic, don't matter to me. Requested by: @hoodiepandaninja16

Pairing: Felix x F!Reader

A/N: EEEEEE FELIXXXXXXX

Word Count: 1,093

TW. Slightly suggestive? But very mildly. Otherwise, just fluff :)

Your head bobs to the beat of the song, fully immersed in your own world, headphones in and music set to blast, humming the tune that's been stuck in your head for weeks.

So loud, in fact, that you don't hear the door open and close or the footsteps that follow. You're completely oblivious to the figure that's walked in. At least, until one of your earbuds is pulled from your ears, and a soft, deep voice whispers;

"whatcha listening to?"

Smile brightening at the familiar voice, you turn to Felix, eyes twinkling with pure delight.

"The same thing I've been listening to since it came out," you answer, tilting your head. You watch, captivated, as Felix's cheeks flush the second the words leave your lips.

Falling against the back of the couch dramatically, arms sprawled over the front, beside you, Felix groans; "you're still listening to that?"

"Of course," you nod, not an ounce of hesitation or shame in your voice as you spin your body to face him. Taking out your other ear bud, you let your phone fall on the couch next to you, leaning your head on your arms on the back of the couch, beside Felix. With his head tilted, you mimic, mirroring him so your head is right in front of him, the other way. With the tip of your noses touching, you grin. "I love it."

"I'm happy you like it," Felix assures, a fact he's already told you but makes you smile nonetheless. "But it's embarrassing how much you like it."

"Embarrassing?" You echo, genuinely curious, "why?"

"You tell everyone how amazing it is," he mumbles, staring at you like the answer should be obvious. You continue to blink at him, not fully understanding what the problem was. "And you practically force them to listen to it. You nearly jumped your friend the other day when she said she couldn't listen to it right then and there."

"They should," you say with a shrug, shameless. You'd do it again in a heartbeat. "It's a masterpiece."

Groaning once again, this time a tad bit more whinier, Felix hides his reddening face behind his hands. "Y/N!"

Reaching forward, you take his hands in your own, tugging them so you can see his face. You know if he wanted, he could fight your grip, but Felix doesn't -- he never does when it's you. Soon enough his warm brown eyes are squinting back at you.

"I love your voice," you whisper, voice soft and affectionate.

Felix's eyes widen, faintly, and his lips part.

"LiSA sounds great, of course. And the two of you sound amazing together, but I love how your voice sounds in it." You explain, never letting your gaze waver from his own. "I'll use any excuse to listen to your voice. Even more when it's an amazing song."

"This isn't the first time you've heard my voice in a song," Felix mumbles, still flustered.

"Of course," you grin. "You just sound extra good in this one."

Rolling his eyes, the blush remains ever persistent on his cheeks, but he eases his curled-in form. Seeing his body relax and his flustered expression shift into something more comfortable, you choose that time to strike:

"You look extra good in the music video too."

Your voice comes out completely innocent, but the meaning behind your words is obvious. You know instantly Felix catches it.

Raising a brow, Felix expression shifts into something mischievious as he leans back. Before you know it, he's crawling over the back of the couch to fall into the spot next to you, causing a giggle to burst from your lips as you lean back from the movement. With swift movement, Felix's hands thread around your waist, pulling you into his lap as you stare down at him.

"I think I'm starting to enjoy all these compliments," he grins, ear to ear, eyes sparkling with something akin to trouble. You laugh at his quick change in attitude, having found his confidence from something so simple.

It seemed Felix got flustered from being complimented on his voice, but he relished in you telling him how good he looks. Or, maybe, it was the hint of something more behind your voice.

"Got any more for me, babe?"

Rolling your eyes, you set your hands on his shoulders. "Don't let it get to your head too much, 'lix."

"Hard not to," he shrugs, smirking. "Especially when the compliment sounds extra sweet from your lips."

Now it's your turn to flush, heat coarsing through your body as you nudge him lightly.

"Very smooth, Felix," you huff, "but I have a request if you want more compliments."

His answer comes easy; "anything."

"Sing it for me?"

Raising a brow, Felix looks mildly surprised, like he hadn't expected that. It's clear his mind had been elsewhere. "Right now?"

You nod; "it's not the first time I've asked you to sing for me."

"I know," he nods. "I just thought... you know."

He gestures loosely at your position. The pout on his lips is evident, making your giggle.

Smirking, you lean forward, pressing a brief kiss on his lips and pulling away before he can pull you closer for more. A light puff of air leaves his lips as you pull away, biting your lip. "Sing for me first," you whisper, voice low and taunting.

Hands falling on your hips, Felix squeezes. There's a brief pause before his lips part, and the sweet, deep and warm sound of his voice fills the otherwise silent room.

You eat up every second of it, eyes never leaving his own as your fingers carress through his hair. Felix never wavers his gaze either, staring at you heavy-lidded and intense as the words leave his lips without hesitation or struggle. In the quiet of the room and without any music, you can focus on the sound of his voice completely.

And as he trails off, the heat of his words still runs through your body, soothed and excited at the same time from his voice.

"Good?" Felix teases, eyes taking in your very visceral reaction.

You breathe; "perfect." Leaning forward, you press your forehead against his own, lips inches away.

"I'll sing for you forever," Felix whispers in response, and that pretty pink floods his cheeks again in the intimacy of the moment. You relish in the sight, thumbs stroking his cheeks as his hands crawl up your spine. "Anything for you."

You hum, soft; "yeah? Anything?"

He nods; "mm-hmm."

"Then," you purr, "kiss me."

[endiness]

/#honestly? scenes like this make me wonder what this show could have been if written by someone who didn't retcon/forget their own canon #between literally one episode to the next #bc it COULD HAVE been compelling to explore a long term arc with the Hales re Idolization of the tragically passed #just in terms of how Talia is remembered vs what she did #however. considering actors had to fight for actual character arcs and push for certain scenes to address moments that were going ignored? #like. Jeff couldn't have handled that kind of exploration tbh #bc he has interesting IDEAS with a cast that can pull them off #but? the man has no follow through #and it's never as obvious as when we get parental drama #bc if there's anything he loves more than escalation for it's own sake? #it's introducing parental trauma out of nowhere and then never having it be a thing their kids get to reconcile with #see also: Claudia Stilinski #like? my dude really was writing his show like a hurt/no comfort catharsis fanfic #I do actually like this show btw. but this is why I say it's DIFFICULT #bc I both love it and also can't recommend it bc this is not something you should subject someone to without ALL the headsup re the cw (via omgtheywereawooomates)

Doing a favor for Derek meant Ennis would be in good with Talia.

[daffyjjk]

hello… i just logged on here and twitter, and the chaos from some jkkrs/tkkrs is honestly unreal. why can’t people just enjoy tae’s adorable baby line photo dump without turning it into shipping wars or unnecessary fighting? can we not simply appreciate their sweet, genuine moments for what they are? i always try to stay away from hate and discourse, but this has gotten completely out of control.

i really hoped jkkrs would be better, but seeing them act just like tkkrs makes me wonder — what’s even the difference anymore? hating on tae, jm, and jk just to feed into your delusions is not only toxic, it’s heartbreaking. at the end of the day, the boys are the ones who get hurt by this behavior, and they don’t deserve that.

i will always be an ot7 girlie, supporting all seven with my whole heart. the boys give us so much love, joy, and comfort — the least we can do is support them with respect and kindness. every single one of them deserves to feel loved and protected, not dragged into fan wars. if you only uplift your bias while tearing the others down, let’s be real — you’re a solo. and maybe it’s time you take a step back from the fandom, because this space should be about celebrating all of them.

they’ve always said they want us to love them together as bangtan, and that’s exactly what i’ll keep doing. always💜

[lunalovestowrite]

Batman (Whump) Fic Recs!

And we're here again... except this time whump!!

All these fics are whump-focused, meaning all of them will come with some TWs. I'm not going to list them here, but they should all have their various TWs listed in the tags. Make sure to take care of yourselves!!

All of these are complete unless stated otherwise!! ^^

a promise built on glass by jumpinginmuddypuddles

Jason has healing powers and these are useful to Roman Sionis. Then Robin is thrown into his cell and the two of them become literally insufferable. The epitome of Dick looking at baby Jason, looking at Bruce, and going "can we keep him?" With a good amount of whump sprinkled on top. This one is pretty chill. Very soft whump.

2. The Seven Layer Dip From Hell series by OberonBronze

Jason gets feartoxined and decides that kidnapping Tim and trapping him in his apartment with him (to... take care of him, I think) is the best course of action. This does NOT go well for either of them.

The way Jason and Tim's relationship is written in this one is SO good it's on point. It's messy and destructive and neither of them are perfect. I love it very much. The whump is immaculate.

3. Hanging By a Thread by Arwriter

I reread this one ALL THE TIME because the whump is just MWAH! Perfect!

Very quick rescue fic where Dick has been missing for a few days and Jason stumbles across him. Poor Dick. Caretaker Jason is always peak. Idk what else to say about it. Really good short whump oneshot.

4. empty series by mikkal

Jason whump. He gets captured by Evil Guys and the evil guys torture him with fear toxin and adrenaline and force him into dog fights, essentially. The actual fic is about his family saving him and then taking care of him as he recovers. It's very cute. I love how brutal the whump is, and then how soft the comfort is. It's great!! So well written!!

5. of precautions and habits, only some are conscious by Pure_Night_Fury

Fics that explore Bruce's more Flawed Side are always interesting, and I LOVE this one SO much. Basically Bruce and Dick are fighting in front of Jason, Tim, and Damian. Bruce moves wrong and Jason, purely on instinct, pulls a gun on him in defense of Dick.

Jason being protective of Dick ALWAYS gets me, but there's just something about this fic that really hits it RIGHT. Just mwah. The combination of Jason's protectiveness, Tim and Damian's confusion, and Bruce's complete shock is just so effective. And it's wonderfully written, of course.

6. Blue series by Marshmallow_____Pillow

(This author also drew fanart for one of my fics once, which I am NOT biased by at all, but if they're reading this then thank you so much I love you <3)

Arkhamverse Jason gets saved by a Dick Grayson who has been trained by Slade. Wonderful blend of horrific whump (as would be expected by Arkhamverse) and soft comfort from Dick taking care of his little brother. God I love this series.

Okay full disclosure, the next recs are all by the same author because, as I said in my FMA post and my other Batman post, this author NEVER misses. These are all ongoing series at time of posting, but the author does update consistently!

7. I.C.U. series by WakingNightmares

Dick tries to take his own life, forgetting that Jason was listed as his emergency contact.

The rest of the series is the two of them working through this. Jason forces Dick to move in with him and the two of them work together to unpack all their problems and get Dick to a better place. Every part of this series is excellent. Just... so well written.

It's heavy, of course. Mind the tags!

8. Cover Your Hands With Your Eyes Closed series by WakingNightmares

When they were young foster kids, Dick, Jason, and Tim all ended up in Jack Napier's house, where he kept them locked in his basement for several years before they finally escaped.

This series deals almost entirely with the aftermath of what happened, with some brief flashbacks. It's set 10 years after they escaped and all of them have moved on with their lives, and have a bunch of new problems to deal with as a result of the horrors they experienced.

Truly this author NEVER misses. The portrayal of trauma is on point, and the sibling relationship and the way that it's both benefited and hurt all three of them is perfect. Specifically the JayRoy in this series is IMMACULATE!! Maybe my favorite JayRoy fic(s) I've ever read.

9. I've Given Every Piece of Me (And I'm Breathing) series by WakingNightmares

Again, this one is HEAVY, so mind the tags.

Batman is a serial killer who has, over the years, kidnapped several children for a variety of purposes. Dick, after ten years of torture, finally escapes with his little brothers and goes to the Justice League for help, thinking that they'll execute him as Batman's accomplice, Robin.

Just... wow. Everything about this series is VERY well thought out, and SO well handled and implemented and I just love it. I love how dark and horrific it feels. I love how Conner and Roy are written. I love how Dick is written. I love how Damian is written. I just love everything about it. IT'S SO PEAK!!

This fic also made me go down a "serial killer Batman + forced accomplice Robin" rabbit hole lmao. There's more of those than you would think.

Again this author NEVER misses so yeah. All their other whump fics are an implied recommendation lmao

That's everything for this post!! I'll probably make a "misc fandoms" one too at some point.

Again, if yall have any recommendations based on these, let me know!! I'm always looking for more fics to read.

And if you wanna talk about any of these (and how amazing they are) just let me know!!

[zombiequeens]

Oh I have a prompt idea:

vampire Perpetua & vampire Reader sleeping together in the crypts beneath The Ministry. The Nameless Ghouls protect them during the day. They had eaten very well the night before (a group of crooked people had a big event in the city. Lots of dinner options).

My (rumoured to be) autistic brain wondering if you mean sleep together or sleep together...

I went with the latter; I hope you like it! ♡

18+ MDNI

It's been an eventful night as you and Perpetua arrive home at the ministry, clutching each other's hand as you make your way down the antiquated stone steps leading down into the crypts.

You paid a visit to a local pastor tonight; a selfish, unscrupulous man who has been purloining the proceeds of the church fund.

"There are young families in this town who don't know where their next meal is coming from..." Perpetua had said weeks earlier, eyes dark and wrathful. "That money is meant for them. So much for a God-fearing man, huh? I think he should be our next meal."

Perpetua had held the culprit in place as you drank from his neck, not enough to endanger his life, but enough to make him fear for it.

"Do the right thing, Pastor." Perpetua had growled as he watched you, wanting to make sure that you were fed before sinking his own fangs into the other side of the man's neck while he wailed in agony.

You had watched Perpetua in awe as you thought to yourself that even while indulging in his game, there was something so graceful and enchanting about him. He was the most beautiful being you had ever laid eyes upon, there was no doubt in your mind, but what tethers your heart to his is his exquisite moral compass. You think back to a party you had both attended not long after you met, he had leaned in to whisper in your ear, mismatched eyes sparkling...

Flashback starts

"Do you see the man over there, in the blue suit?" His breath was like a delicate breeze on your skin as you turned your head to meet his striking eyes.

"Yes, I do."

"His sweet wife dedicates her life to raising their children, keeping their home warm and clean so that he doesn't have to lift a finger after he leaves his workers to handle business so he can elope with young women, not lifting a finger unless it's to enter the body of his latest mistress,"

You gasp as Perpetua's mouth contorts into a devilish grin, sharp canines grazing his bottom lip.

"I was thinking that we could introduce his mistress to his wife, since they're both here. What do you think, baby bat?"

"I think that this party food is boring and a serving of justice is in order," You giggled into his hair as he knew then that he'd found his partner in just crime.

Flashback ends

Keep your head down, your mother had always scolded you. Stop trying to be a hero. Every time a passion for a cause would ignite the fire in your heart, she'd extinguish it, filling you with shame and self-doubt. The flame had never truly died out, though, and was always waiting for something...or someone to stoke it.

Perpetua nourishes that fire, basking in its warmth as he falls in love with your kindred soul. "My little anarchist," He often calls you. He has set your heart free, to love and to fight, and that is where his divine, innate beauty lies.

"Do you think they'll think twice before stealing from the fund again?" You reach up to rearrange his curls as locks of them fall over his face.

"I don't know, sweetheart. But...if they don't, we can always pay them another visit and be...less cordial." A darkness flashes across his eyes as they meet yours before softening with love. "No matter what happens, I know my precious girl and I can handle it."

You squeeze his hand as you draw your attention to the sensation of his skin on yours. Though you're both cold-blooded, there's something warm about the bridging of your skin; the dovetail of your bodies as you lose yourselves in pleasing each other in the moments you spend alone in your own little world.

Perpetua cocks his head as your eyes glaze over. "Have I lost you, angel?" He chuckles, stopping to reach down and lift you up in his arms. "You must be tired...I'll carry you the rest of the way." He nuzzles your hair as you wrap your arms around his neck, resting against his firm chest. As vampires, the strength you exhibit in the days after feeding is nothing short of Herculean, so he lifts you up as though you were no heftier than a feather.

As you approach your crypt, Mountain and Rain exchange a courteous nod with Perpetua.

"Sleep well, Papa. Sleep well, [Y/N]." Mountain's deep voice echoes as Perpetua cradles your head to protect it from bumping on the frame of the door as he steps over the threshold.

He sets you down, and you head to the basin to wash your face before slipping into a black satin nightgown while Perpetua strips down to his dark boxers as you both prepare for your slumber. The only light in the crypt are the dark candles peppered around the room like sombre stars, only just bright enough for you to be able to make out your surroundings.

You make your way over to the coffin and hum as you climb in, the velvet soft and luxurious on your skin as you fidget and nest, trying to find a comfortable position.

Perpetua wanders over, the faint candlelight illuminating the definition of the muscles on his torso as he approaches you, nightgown riding up to barely cover your backside as you face away from him.

His cock twitches in his underwear as he admires your form; your plump, soft skin irresistible to him as his mind races with lustful thoughts.

Perpetua climbs into the coffin, a leg on either side of your body as he straddles you, the weight of his hips pressing into yours as he leans down to plant a kiss on the nape of your neck.

The serenity of the realm of dreams suddenly pales in comparison to the reality that rouses you as you open your eyes, turning your head to the side as he leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your cheek.

"My love..." You purr, stretching out beneath him.

"I've had my fill of blood," Perpetua breathes between wet kisses. "But I haven't had my fill of you, angel."

Your walls clench as you feel his arousal, solid and pulsing against your skin as only a thin layer of black cotton separates them.

You lift your backside up and wiggle, causing Perpetua to groan. "Always so good for me," He whispers. "My baby girl."

He places a hand flat on your stomach to lift your body for better access as he kneels at the foot of the coffin, caressing your thigh with his other hand while he admires the sight of your slick folds beginning to drip onto the maroon velvet below you.

He buries his nose into your sex as you let out a whimper, his nose pressed to your entrance as he coaxes your sensitive nub out from beneath its hood, moving his tongue in slow, delicate strokes as you tremble on his tongue.

"Oh, V..." You claw at the pillow your face is buried in, moving your hips in rhythm with his tongue.

"That's right, my sweet girl." He kneads at the malleable flesh of your backside as he takes you in his mouth, suckling.

You instinctively squirm as warmth builds between your legs, waves of pleasure resonating throughout your body with each fluttering heartbeat.

Perpetua slides two fingers inside you, knuckle facing upwards, a muffled yelp escaping your lips as his fingers graze against the sweet spot inside you, swollen and tender with arousal.

"There, now..." He coos as he curls his fingers around it, stroking and teasing.

You can barely breathe as seismic waves of pleasure wash over you, Perpetua cool and calm as he peppers your skin with kisses, basking in the sight of the love of his life coming apart on his hand.

"V, I'm going to-" You gasp as he cuts you off.

"Not yet."

You groan as he slowly removes his fingers from you, licking the sweet nectar from them before clutching your hips, his newly-sharpened claws producing a sweet sting as they dig into your skin.

"Take a deep breath for me, angel," He mumbles as he aligns his thick, aching length with your entrance.

You close your eyes and take a deep, deliberate breath as he slides into you, lifting and pulling you onto him by your hips as your walls clench and twitch around him.

"Okay, angel?" He reaches down to stroke your hair before gathering it in one hand to easier command your body.

"Yes, so good-" You whimper. "Y-you feel so good, V."

Perpetua smirks as he tugs at your hair and moves his hips to bury his length deep inside you, his head flush against your cervix as he fills you to the brim.

"Mmm," He hums as your walls sheath him, working his throbbing cock. "So tight."

Perpetua angles his hips into you, holding you in place with supernatural strength as you whine and writhe. He finds a perfect rhythm, his cock grinding against every sweet spot inside you as you both begin to shake in anticipation of your release.

"I'm close," You whisper, reaching behind you and clawing at the air to prompt Perpetua to take your hand, which he obliges.

"Go on, baby. Cum all over my cock," He fondles your hand as he uses it for leverage to push deeper into you, chasing the feeling of knowing he's responsible for your orgasm.

The periphery of your vision twinkles and blares with stars as you fall over the precipice, a supernatural bliss spreading throughout your entire body. Perpetua slows his thrusts as he too finds his release, grasping at your hair as he erupts inside you; hot, thick cum spilling inside you as the contractions of your walls milk him of his seed.

As he pulls out of you, he wraps an arm around your stomach and pulls you up into his arms with the hand he's clasping.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I needed that," He whispers as he catches his breath, enfolding you in his arms.

"So did I," You reach up and rest a hand on his cheek as he nestles into you.

"I love you. I love you so very much, my darling girl." Perpetua sighs, holding you close.

"I love you too, V."

[bloodlines-if]

After reading E and Luz bad dream ask. How would they react to MC suddenly lashing out from how they woke up MC, believing someone was trying to attack them in their sleep.

Ace: Evades the hit almost automatically, immediately backs up with hands raised. "Easy, easy. It's just me." Voice stays calm and steady their heart raising a little faster. "You're safe." Waits for Charlie's eyes to focus before slowly approaching again. "There you are. You back with me? Good… now let’s cuddle" Kind of happy that MC has fast reflexes, it makes Ace less worried when MC is out alone in Sordia.

Arden: Dodges back with clinical precision, grey eyes flashing with irritation. "Wonderful. Add combat reflexes to your list of symptoms." Dabs at their split lip with the back of their hand. "Your fight-or-flight response is functioning perfectly, I see." Despite the sarcasm, doesn't move away. "Are you done trying to assault your medical provider, or should I fetch restraints?" Will be a little miffed the next day.

E: Gets clocked in the jaw, staggers back with golden eyes blazing. "Did you just hit me?" Voice deadly quiet with rage. But when they see MC's confusion, gives them a cold smile instead. "Impressive reflexes. Terrible technique." Grabs MC's chin roughly to examine them. "Next time you want to play rough you only had to ask." Still a little furious that MC managed to hit them at all.

Luz: Takes the hit with a sharp laugh, touching their split lip with fascination. "There's that fire I've been waiting to see." Their eyes gleam with dangerous delight. "You pack a decent punch for a journalist." Licks the blood from their lip. "But if you wanted to get physical, all you had to do was ask." The smile is predatory. "I do so love when you show your claws."

[have-you-been-here]

Statistics Update

Good news for Canadian and Canada-lovers: the submissions I sent for a French city of every letter are done! Our fight will continue on more equal rounds (unless you guys inundated this blog with Canada submissions, but I can't say I blame you 😅)

Events of the week: Austria 🇦🇹 got to 40 unique visits, Germany 🇩🇪 130, France 🇫🇷 180. In the USA, Oregon reached 20 visits, Texas 30, Florida 60.

At the speed at which things are going, USA should reach 1000 visits by the end of August. The proportion in total visits is still falling 📉, but I think it slowed down.

Speaking of USA, please write the full name of the state when you send a submission 🙏 I know tumblr is more than 50% American, but I'm not.

Happy August to everyone and see you next week!

Statistics sheet

Thank you for the stats! If you'd like to see a decline in US centric submissions, please do submit places from literally anywhere else!

Seconding full state names: while I won't send back a submission for using the 2 letter shortening of a state (believe me, I have plenty of reasons to send back submissions already), I highly encourage everyone to write out the full name of a state when you include it in your submission. That means MN should be written as Minnesota (for example)

For those wondering, I'll put a list of reasons why I'll send back a post under the cut.

As always, here's a link to the submission guide. Please take a look before you submit - if you don't, I'll likely end up sending your submission back to you and you'll either have to resubmit or not have it posted at all.

Reasons why submissions get sent back:

- Already been posted/submitted: If a place has been posted before or is in the queue, I do my best to not post it again. Sometimes these fall through the cracks, but I catch most of them.

- Request for anonymity: Although we have allowed for anonymous submissions in the past, I've come to realize that these are incredibly time consuming and tend to build up at the bottom of the inbox. Because of that, we are no longer accepting anonymous submissions

- No country name: Every submission needs to have either the name of the country that the place is located, or, for places that span several countries, the word Earth in place of a country name.

- Grainy, small, or otherwise low quality image: I do my best to keep a quality standard for the blog. As a general rule, bigger images are better. If I can make out individual pixels on an image, it will 100% be sent back.

- Too many images: Lots of images make for really long posts. Depending on the orientation/size of the images, any post with more than 2 or 3 images will get sent back. Because asks will always stack images vertically when answered (tumblr's fault, not mine), the workaround here is to make a collage that places the images side-by-side (you can find examples in the pinned post!)

- Text in the wrong spot: submission text MUST go beneath all images. If you got back your submission with a response just asked you to look at the submission guide, 7 times out of 10 it was for this reason.

- Text is the wrong size: Most submissions should be making use of the header text size. On mobile, tap the Aa icon in the bottom left corner and choose "Biggest". On desktop, select any part of the text and choose the same symbol -> biggest. For submissions with overly long text (goes past 4 lines on mobile when in Biggest size) please instead use the Bigger option.

- Not a place: Submissions that rely on conditions or actions are not considered places. This includes things like "anywhere else when you're supposed to be at school" or "under a tree at night." You may still see a few of these leaving the queue (the one about on stage in front of an audience today is an example of one I probably shouldn't have sent to queue) but I will almost always send these back.

- Excess text in the submission: The text should say "Name of place, City/State/Province/County/whatever, Country" and ONLY that. Explanations, personal notes, and any additional information is welcome to be added in a reblog or a comment after the post has left the queue, but should not be in the submission text. If you have something you want to say to me about your submission, please do so by sending a dm or a *separate* ask from your submission.

These are the main reasons why a submission will be returned to sender instead of entering the queue. Rarely, a post will have some other reason for not entering the queue and when that happens I will always give a detailed explanation for why I made that decision and what you would need to change for a resubmission if you choose to do so. If you ever have a question about why your submission was returned, please don't hesitate to send me a dm or an ask.

[hisbelfastboy]

For the Fic Title meme: Where Do We Go From Here

Paddy has been walking for a good hour before he sees a silhouette on the horizon, tall and walking down the sand dunes towards him with determined steps. A grin pulls at Paddy's lips, relief at the sight of those dark curls whipping in the wind and Eoin's unmistakable gait flooding his veins until he feels like he's floating. His legs carry him as fast as if they were wings, and soon he's standing in front of Eoin, a winded laugh escaping him as he restrains himself from pulling the lad into a hug just yet. Instead, his eyes roam over Eoin's form, looking for any gashes or bruises but Eoin looks.. nothing like a man who's just jumped from a plane in a sandstorm. Save from the wrinkles the wind has creased in his uniform, he looks pristine, not even a bead of sweat darkening his brow.

"Fall got you easy, then?"

Eoin flinches before he coughs, looking over himself seemingly for the first time. His jaw locks and Paddy blinks, for the first time noticing how rigid Eoin stands before Eoin shakes his head with a weak smile that Paddy puts on the adrenaline — he too can feel his limbs grow heavier as the relief of seeing Eoin safe and in one piece leaves place to exhaustion.

"Looks like it, yeah," Eoin finally says, voice faint. "You alright?"

"Oh, I'm grand," Paddy laughs before he pulls Eoin in a hug, heart settling at the solid weight of him. For a second Eoin does nothing, arms limp at his sides before a choked out sound leave him and he buries his face in Paddy's hair, shoulders shaking. Hands stroking Eoin's back, Paddy pulls him closer, closing his eyes against the wave of emotions coursing through him.

He'll just hold on for a few seconds more. Even if nobody is there to witness it, Eoin would think nothing of it if Paddy held him for a bit longer than he usually would — they did jump out of a plane during a sandstorm after all. Surely Paddy can hug him for a few seconds more, reveling in Eoin's scent that floods his senses as Paddy tilts his head into Eoin's neck, inhaling deeply.

At the back of his mind, he makes a note of the lack of sweat or dirt in Eoin's scent as though the elements themselves didn't dare taint him, but Paddy cannot be bothered to think about that right now. His time is up; any longer and Eoin is bound to notice how long the hug has gone on.

With great reluctance, Paddy forces himself to take a step back though he can't resist squeezing Eoin's shoulder one last time. Eoin clears his throat, standing straighter.

"We better get going then," he offers, something distant in his eyes that Paddy cannot name. Still he nods because Eoin is right, and shots a fire in the air. There's no echoing gunshots, so they start walking in the direction Eoin came from — Paddy really should scold him for going back instead of trying to find the others, but the little hour he'd spent wondering about Eoin's whereabouts and safety had felt like an eternity; he can't fathom it having lasted longer.

They walk in silence for the most part, unwilling to drink their water just yet, but Paddy can't help but notice the way Eoin fidgets next to him, picking at his nails like he is trying to draw blood. Lips pursed, he considers saying something before electing not to; Eoin wouldn't appreciate his nervousness being pointed out. Instead, Paddy recites Brooke, and that pulls a half-hearted smile from Eoin, which is enough for now.

The desert stretches on all side, and Paddy can hardly tell the difference between one dune and another, but as they approach a steep mount of sand, Eoin stops abruptly, shaking his head as though it would wake him up. Worry seizing his heart, Paddy reaches out, closing a hand around Eoin's elbow.

"Everything okay, lad?"

Eoin doesn't answer, and in the silence that stretches between them, Paddy can hear the rustle of fabric fighting against the wind.

"I can't go over there with you," Eoin whispers hoarsely, eyes fixed on the sand dune over Paddy's shoulder.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Paddy asks, bewildered. Eoin only shakes his head again, eyes wide, and Paddy edges closer. "Did you hit your head on the way down?" His hand grabs Eoin's chin, turning his face sideways with more gentleness than his tone would suggest, and Eoin lets him, obediently tipping his head down so Paddy can make sure no bump has formed below his hair. Finding no sign of harm, Paddy lets Eoin go, though a frown still remains on his face.

"I didn't hit my head, Paddy," Eoin assures, mouth pulled down in something sad and rueful. "I broke my neck."

The words echo in Paddy's mind, and a rough laugh erupts from his throat even as his heart thunders.

"The fuck are you playing at, boy?" Eoin's mouth quivers.

"I'm not— Paddy, please. You have to believe me," Eoin pleads, brown eyes glinting with raw honesty. "I'm dead."

Scoffing, Paddy turns his back on him to walk over the sand dune, unwilling to entertain Eoin's twisted idea of a joke. There's a sharp, pained inhale behind him though, and Paddy can't help but look up from his feet, hand tightening on his pistol to see what had caused Eoin pain, already raising his arm to shoot.

The gun falls with a dull sound as he staggers, one hand clutching at his chest while Paddy's legs threaten to give out under him.

He's just been talking to Eoin.

Eoin has been walking with him for the past twenty minutes. Paddy had even touched his face, felt the warmth of it against his fingers. And yet, there's no denying that Eoin McGonigal lies a few feet below, bloody sand surrounding him like a bed of roses, torn parachute blowing in the wind.

Loosely inspired by Dead Boys Detectives <3 I had this idea of Eoin being a ghost trying to escape Death to stay with Paddy and Paddy having to come to terms with the fact he's now in love with a ghost but never could make much of it, but this was the perfect opportunity to dip a toe in that AU!! Thank you very much 🥹❤️

[the-zero-bracket]

Looks like Kirby!Zero and Kamen Rider Zeronos ain’t fighting against each other after all 😔

[sentient-mawce]

Part four :)

<<FIRST<< <PREVIOUS< Update I finally did the thing! Oh and cami and fishlegs will show up pretty soon so you can look forward to that.

[lotus-pear]

finally…….i have acquired them all…….i can delete the game in peace now until yusuke’s banner arrives 🙂‍↕️

[luck-of-the-drawings]

THIS THING IS SCUUUFFED AS HELL & ITS ALSO THE BEST THING I HAVE ANIMATED THUS FAR. IM SO IN LOVE WITH EMIZEL. JUST WISH I GAVE HIM MORE STUPID TATTOOS. NEXT TIME THO. NEXT TIME. I ALSO LOVE VEX&VIV SOOOO MUCH. charlies flavor of Deranged is my FAVORITE!!