#I JUST FIGURE IT OUR. weasel is in

[stiffyck]

Hi stiff,,,,

Im holding your hand <3

Hope you have a nice dayyy

We ar- we’re holding hammnds flgkdari

[marinerainbow]

So I've found this cover of It's Tough to be a God and now I can't stop imagining Poppy and Shiny in this position.

Don't ask me how two toon ladies got pulled into being worshipped as goddesses, but it's living in my head rent-free now, and I have no idea how to vent it out.

[internetskiff]

The most powerful ability exclusive to humanity in the Half Life/Portal shared universe is our ability to just throw bullshit at the wall and see what sticks. Aperture "OSHA are the devil" Science have managed to create completely safe interconnected points in space. The same company that turns people's blood into gasoline and shoves lions and humans into the same enclosed space for the vague concept of "Science". Meanwhile Black Mesa still has to use Xen as a crossing and their teleportation device requires an entire reactor with a village's worth of staff constantly maintaining it, just to end up having most of said staff abducted by onion-headed aliens. Even the resistance hasn't managed to create completely stable teleporters with a compressed Xen relay, meanwhile Aperture just went "oh dude let's shove a black hole into a non-waterproof gun" and have just created a teleportation method that just removes Xen from the equation entirely. Doesn't change the fact they bullshat so bad they basically got themselves gassed to death, but still.

The Resistance are a good example of this too. The Combine seem to have a complete set-in-stone thought process and understanding of science which meant they didn't even begin to explore local teleportation via Xen, meanwhile a group of random human mechanics and scientists have managed to cobble together at least two semi-functional local teleporters out of scrap metal and stolen Combine tech, to the point the All-Consuming Interdimensional Empire had to straight up copy their homework. And that isn't even the only time they seem to be taking human shit to just copy the blueprints.

They 100% just yoinked the entire damn car out of that garage just to take a crack at reverse-engineering the Tau Cannon attached to it. Even Resistance weaponry somehow manages to rival or at least stand equal to Combine tech - and we're talking improvised crossbows that shoot superheated rods of rebar at the target compared to high-tech rifles that can discharge orbs of pure dark energy. The collapse of the entire Citadel is basically set into motion as a result of a cobbled together Rebel device placed into extremely capable hands.

The events of the Portal games are a case of extremely elaborate machinelike planning versus pure human improvisation, with Chell's entire escape in the first game involving her simply weaseling her way through small cracks that GLaDOS missed while setting up her ambushes, eventually turning her own rocket turret against her to destroy her.

I suppose you could argue this falls flat in Portal 2 with Wheatley, but it's important to remember he's designed to be an utter idiot, so it's safe to say he wouldn't obsess over the larger picture like GLaDOS to the point where he fails to see the cracks. Yes, he's the one that breaks Chell out of the test chambers again, and yes, he's the one that came up with the sabotage plot - but it's important to note while he knows what to target in the sabotage, when we actually get there he doesn't quite know how to sabotage it, leaving Chell to figure it out on her own. She botches the Turret Quality Control Line with some minor guidance, but it's basically completely up to her to figure out how to cut off the Neurotoxin Supply. It's through her improvisation that Wheatley even manages to get into GLaDOS' chamber, tumbling through her neurotoxin vent and shattering the glass cage she trapped Chell inside of. It's through Chell's improvisation that the Core Transfer even occurs in the first place.

The script is flipped specifically when Wheatley takes charge, because oops - turns out a mind capable of focusing on the bigger picture might be pretty important when it comes to running an entire facility powered by it's own Reactor. Wheatley just completely zeroes in on his own personal pleasure, hacking up test chambers and the objects within them to try and figure out the easiest way to get his solution euphoria as quick as possible.

Still, something that's pretty interesting is that only Wheatley has ever managed to create a trap that's impossible to foresee and avoid, something GLaDOS has repeatedly failed to do to the point she ends up commending him. I believe this is because his way of thinking is a lot closer to Chell's compared to GLaDOS'. He puts up way more of a fight as the two run through the facility trying to get to him, seemingly improvising on the spot just like Chell has been over the course of the two games. Even his lair would be impossible to survive if it weren't for a single Conversion Gel pipe he somehow failed to notice and remove.

Whether in a laboratory deep beneath the soil or an alien tower tall enough to split the clouds, the ingenuity of even a single person is enough to topple a tower or destroy a supercomputer 3 times over.

Marc Laidlaw put what I'm trying to say into a single sentence when writing for the BreenGrub twitter account:

"The superstructure is riddled with cracks."

[sytoran]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐓.𝟐

following your erotically fantastical encounter with the mother of the kids you babysit, the aftermath is more of a rollercoaster than you could have ever precedented.

🌸 pairing: milf!pregnant!wanda x dom!babysitter!reader

🌸 cont: smut (18+), mommy kink (wanda), lactation kink, body worship, praise kink, power bottom sex-deprived milf 🤝beefy college service top footballer

🌸 word count: 2042

🌸 note: THIS IS SO LONG-AWAITED im sorry..... also i know im supposed to be writing for kinktober but milf!pregnant!wanda was invading every corner of my mind so here ya go. not proof-read!

part one || main masterlist

“Come on, Y/N, you’re not going to the party tonight?” Natasha grumbles, grabbing the sleeve of your bomber jacket as you try your darndest to escape your friends.

It was the fated next day following your erotically fantastical encounter with Wanda, and you had just completed your classes. As you strolled out of campus grounds, the sun was already setting. It painted a picturesque view of the orange horizon, but truthfully, you only cared about getting back to Wanda for that promised ‘tomorrow’. 

“I told you no, Nat,” you reply with a playful sternness that the others laugh at. It was no secret that Natasha had a crush on you, ever since you first sat next to her in the lecture hall and got a little flirty and perhaps a little too handsy. 

It was also no secret that for every lecture after that, you would sit next to a different girl and activities of the same sort would ensue. Most of the time, those encounters would end up with a pretty girl trapped between the wall of a cramped supply closet and you.

“They’ve probably got a secret girlfriend,” Tony adds unhelpfully, with that classic smirk you want to punch off his face sometimes. 

“Really?” Steve asks genuinely, ever the innocently clueless one. “Is she younger than us?”

“Oh, definitely,” Sam chimes in. “Have you seen the freshmen ‘round our beloved Y/N?”

“Feral,” Carol states in resolution. “They crowd at the field to watch Y/N during football practice.”

“And of course, Y/N doesn’t bother to hide the way she leads them all on!” Natasha adds in partial indignation, nudging you suggestively. “That’s totally your type, hm? Younger, pretty girls who chase after you with a puppy love? Is that why my forward advances have always ended in flames?”

You grin half-heartedly, awkward in the spotlight of your love life. For one, your friends couldn’t be more wrong about this ‘secret girlfriend’ you had. Younger, innocent girls? More like smoking hot single moms in their late thirties.

It was strange, even, how you would normally take these girls’ teasing in your stride, almost basking in the glory of being the most sought-after student on campus. 

But with the looming thought of Wanda intercepting every brain wave of yours, months of pining surmounting to a heated make-out session with the hope for something more, all else was forsaken. 

You try not to think about the implications of that too hard.

As your friends continue to bicker about the prospect of your secret girlfriend, you seize the well-earned distraction and weasel your way out.

Sooner than you’d care to admit, you’re standing outside Wanda’s home, skateboard in hand. You’re buzzing in anticipation with your flushed face and windswept hair.

Before you can doubt yourself and backtrack, you knock on the door sharply, twice. You can’t help but smirk at the muffled shriek that follows, then a muted shuffle, then silence. Your heart hammers in your ribcage. You really were about to do this.

“Come in, sweetheart,” the mother calls out with a sugary tone that feeds your ever-increasing libido.

You open the unlocked door, mentally preparing yourself to face Wanda once more. 

But then you actually lay your eyes upon her ethereal figure, and your athlete-hardened knees nearly buckle.

Fuck.

Sprawled out on the sofa like something out of a classic Renaissance painting is Wanda, clad in nothing but a lacy set of dark red lingerie, the most sultry look on her face that draws all the air out of your lungs.

You’d never seen a more attractive woman, pregnant or not.

The way the lacy bra hugs her swollen breasts tighter, pushing the cleavage to be even more visible, the way her thick thighs are spread to reveal those beautiful stretch marks.

“Fuck,” you say, a lot higher pitched than you would care to admit. It seems to be the only word currently circulating in your mind, your studied vocabulary flying out of the window at the sight of Wanda presenting herself for you like a well-earned present.

“See something you like?” Wanda dares to tease, left hand trailing along the lace of her bra, dipping into the ample cleavage that leaves you salivating. 

It takes approximately three seconds for you to kick the door shut, yank off your jacket and nearly dislocate your shoulder, then press against Wanda like it was always meant to be.

The kiss you pull her into is the opposite of gentle, your head slanting to deepen the kiss immediately, tongues meeting like planets bound to collide, bound to cross paths and cause an eclipse.

Wanda moans into the kiss, and you can barely hide your pleasure at that noise. You wanted to hear it a thousand times over, the breathless cry of your name, the begging tone of the older woman.

It was so wrong, but nothing had felt more right.

Wanda’s relinquishment of power doesn’t last too long, though, because before you can impatiently rip off the fabric of her lingerie, she threads her fingers into your hair and forcefully tugs you closer to her chest.

“My house, my rules,” Wanda states, and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a rush of arousal coursing through your veins at Wanda’s motherly sense of control.

“Yes, ma’am,” you mutter, half-jokingly, but when your peripheral view catches Wanda visibly aroused by that, you know it isn’t going to be the last time you address her as that.

Your hand slides under Wanda’s body to unclasp the bra, letting out an affected noise at the sight of her full tits on display.

“Shit,” you grunt, pausing for a moment to admire the view.

Throughout the months of babysitting Billy and Tommy, you had only ever discreetly checked out Wanda’s cleavage, or perhaps stare a little too hard when she wore scanty dresses that showed off her side boobs.

Now, with those perfect, swollen mounds right before your face, you give into your urges to bury your face between them. You groan at the sensation of Wanda’s milk leaking out of her hardened nipples, your mouth moving to suckle at her breasts.

“Shit, baby,” Wanda cries, throwing her head back as you drink right out of her breasts, lapping fervently. It wasn’t entirely sexual per se, but the sheer relief of lightening that weight load in her breasts was a pleasure in itself.

You get slightly drunk off the feeling of Wanda’s breasts in your mouth, and it takes Wanda a surprising amount of strength to get your head away from her chest eventually.

“You’re a bit too obsessed with my tits,” Wanda teases, swiping her milk off your lips with her thumb, tilting your head down to lock eyes with her. The tension between the two of you is palpable, thick in the air, and you long to drown in that desire.

You only smirk back, hands resting on the hem of her thong. “May I undress you now, ma’am?” you emphasise, tilting your head to the side in faux innocence.

“So polite,” Wanda retorts right back, fingertips tracing the curve of your jawline as a smile plays on her lips. “How could I say no to such a gentleman?”

That’s all the confirmation you need before you snap the elastic of Wanda’s red thong, stuffing the flimsy material into the pocket of your pants. What you’d do with it later was for another day.

You kiss down Wanda’s breasts to her swollen belly, firm but gentle, then you flatten out your tongue when it reaches her wet heat.

“I couldn’t pay attention,” you growl, licking a long stripe up Wanda’s pussy. “In any of my fucking classes today,” you continue, tongue flicking at her puffy clit. “‘Cause I was thinking ‘bout all the ways I could fuck that pretty cunt.” 

The filthy moan that leaves Wanda’s lips at your words rings around the confines of the four walls. 

It had been so long since Wanda experienced such mindblowing sex; She had been sexually repressed because of Vision’s busy schedule, and it was torture because pregnancy pretty much solidified her daily sexual arousal. 

But what with her split from him meaning no more mediocre sex, and the prospect of a hot babysitter entering her life, Wanda’s pregnancy hormones had skyrocketed to an all-time high.

Long gone were the nights she held a vibrator against her clit under the sheets, eyes screwed shut as thoughts of you swam in her head. Long gone were the times she helplessly fingered herself in the shower, wishing her fingers belonged to you instead. 

Now, your head was buried between her thighs, your mouth like the devil on her cunt, fast-paced and unforgiving and everything Wanda had always longed for.

“You’re perfect,” you grunt into the older woman’s wet heat, the vibrations of your rough tone sending jolts of arousal up Wanda’s body. “You’re so fucking perfect, Wanda.”

“D-Don’t say that,” she answers breathlessly, fingernails digging into your scalp. “You’ve slept with plenty of other younger, prettier girls than me.” 

The insecurity Wanda felt about her body had mainly stemmed from Vision, who was always going on about how she had become less attractive after pregnancy, with the stretch marks and the added fat and other blemishes on her skin.

“I don’t know about that,” you say, relentless in your worshipping of Wanda’s body. The way you were treating her like a temple was overriding the false beliefs Vision had planted into her head. “‘Cause now when I think about those other girls in bed they all end up looking like you.”

At that, Wanda feels tears prick in the back of her eyes, her gaze blurring as she stares at you. ‘

You, who had entered her life like a ray of hope, brightening up her every day with a blindingly charming smile and a selfless heart. You, who had treated her with more care and respect than any man she had ever been with before. You, who tied up all her loose ends and sewed it up to form the shape of a pretty little heart.

“I love you,” Wanda whispers, the words spilling from the tip of her tongue before she can control it. Her breath constricts afterwards when your mouth finally stops to register her words. 

“I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize it,” Wanda continues, breathless, pushing aside your hair to properly look at you in the eyes. “But I do love you, Y/N L/N.”

Wanda feels something wet on her inner thigh, something that’s not her own slick. It takes a moment for her to realize that it’s your tears.

“I’ve loved you since I first laid my eyes on you,” you confess, eyes shining. “I think I was just scared to believe it until today, too.”

Heartstrings get tugged like a harp, crescendoing into a beautiful symphony that was finally requited love, finally coming to a high, finally reaching its summit.

The lust that encaptures the two of you dissipates into a warm glow of love, the tension easing into trials of romance. 

When you dive back in between Wanda’s thighs, you’re determined and emotional and ultimately choked with new possibilities.

You could already imagine cooking dinners together with Wanda, reading the kids bedtime stories, chastising them to go and brush their teeth, stealing kisses when they fell asleep.

You could already map out a navigation of your future years, down millions of paths and possibilites that all brought you to Wanda Maximoff. She was your life, your truth, your unbreakable vow.

With that, her first orgasm comes in a tidal wave, like rushing water breaking free from a dam. 

Wanda sobs, riding your face as she comes harder than she’s ever had in her life, squirting all over your face and the sofa, all else forgotten.

Your expert tongue and naturally-skilled fingers bring her to another plane of existence, where she was floating above the universe, where your name was chanted like a mantra.

The world around you faded as Wanda’s thighs wrapped around your head, as you dived down once more to worship, as you dived down once more to chase the love of your life.

This was the only happy ever after you needed.

hope yall liked it 😋 reblogs are much appreciated!!

main masterlist || AO3

[pupyuj]

waitt im j thinking w recent mean girl wony she’d be the type to leave yn there but then she’d get jealous seeing that yns new shirt is another girl’s 😭😭😭

revisiting this wony to do this ask hehehe good times!

we all like our mean girls vicious and jealous right?? well that's exactly what this meanie wony is like! she'd see you talking to your friends and ignoring her again like the two of you didn't fuck twice in the same night and she'd get sooo upset 🤭🤭 pouting and glaring as you went about the entire morning not looking at her 😭 she did like how you stiffened up whenever you caught her staring at you and checking you out, and how you'd awkwardly pull your collar up just so you can hide the marks she left on your chest... but wonyoung was going to make you didn't have to work so hard to hide them anymore next time! 😵‍💫

the next time in question being in her car?? she's got you trapped between the backseat and herself, her fingers knuckle-deep inside your cunt and her mouth working on your nipple,, and she's doing this while parked on your driveway btw! not at all caring if an innocent stranger was passing by and saw the two of you 😳 oh yeah and that shirt you borrowed from a friend after she messed up yours last night?? well that would be torn off your body and thrown mindlessly somewhere else!

"should've known.. hah... that you'd weasel your back into acting like you don't want me even after all of that..." ugh she'd absolutely leave bite marks all over you as a way to take out her anger 😩 she's obsessed with how your tugging on her hair and that hold you got on the back of her neck, never knowing if you want to push her way or pull her closer... and how you've locked your legs around her thighs just to keep her close to you and fuck you in that ruthless way you've come to like overnight 🫣 she's dragging her long fingers in and out just to make those sweet moans of yours bless her ears... staring at you with only pure lust in her eyes while she sucks and nips at your hard buds...

oh yeah and she'd definitely sit down on the seat herself and make you ride her fingers! just letting you rock your hips into her hand and if i tell you she'd find some use for her other hand and tease your other hole? 🥰 relishing at how you felt tight on both holes... oh she has to properly ruin you in her majestic, king-sized bed one day, she needs to!! and wony doesn't care that you've made a mess out of her little outfit by squirting all over her... normally, she'd make a fuss about it but she couldn't find it in herself to do that with you when you looked so beautiful all fucked out right above her 😋

wony definitely gives you a spare sweater she has in her bag, telling you that you'd have to pay the two-hundred dollars she spent it on it in full if you got even a spot on it while you're borrowing it 😭 seeing your figure so small in her oversized sweater gives her ideas though.. she'd definitely love to fuck you while wearing her clothes... and maybe in an outfit she put you in! she'll save all of that for the future though... 👀

[weebsinstash]

As much as I want to have children by this man, let's take a moment to sip our platonic yandere Miguel juice

-i can't decide which sex he'd be more partial to in a 'child'/you since in the movie there was Gabriella but in the comics he eventually has a son who becomes the next Spiderman but--

-as a girl i just naturally think of a lot of those sorts of gender specific ideas 👉👈 he's this big scary hulking intimidating threat and his "daughter" is the one melting his cold exterior

-doesnt matter if you're a grown ass woman, Miguel sees you struggling to braid your hair and suddenly here he is, full dad mode, doing it for you,and depending on how close you two are, maybe he disguises it with "ugh, stop spending so much time messing around with that. If I do it for you will you get back to work? 🙄", but really it's just your new self proclaimed dad/tio wanting to help braid your hair and help you feel pretty and, oh, how he can fondly remember the last time he helped braid "his daughter's" hair...

-of course this evolves to him just loving to do things with your hair. Braid it, wear it natural, style it, use products on it, hes got you. you were just trying to put your hair in a lazy updo like a ponytail or bun and this man doesn't let you leave until he's got you completely combed out, hair braided with ribbons, and of course this entire time youre awkwardly sitting there in a chair in his absolute cave of a workstation with this gargantuan 6'9 man there, "so how was your day? Staying out of trouble?"

-really I mean. Is stealing other people's kids NOT technically in character for him. You're unfortunate enough to trauma bond with this man and you're never getting rid of him

-you hear Miles Morales call him tio (as in the tio meaning dude) and you jokingly teasingly start calling him tio, which Miguel secretly pretends is the version that means uncle. You're just constantly joking around or looking up at him with these big pouty eyes, "but tio 🥺 can't I PLEASE--" and its like. Lmao people know that if they need to ask Miguel for a favor, that it increases their chances to have you ask in their stead

- I mean, as a female adult abused as a child by my own father, raised by a single mom myself, like...

Reader flinches away when Peter B goes to give you a supportive pat on the back or comes in for a high five after a mission and you force yourself to laugh because you're feeling more than just a little awkward and in the spotlight. "Oh, sorry, that was dumb!" And they eventually get you to kind of anxiously word vomit "my dad used to just kind of, rough me up sometimes when I did something wrong! It-it could've been a lot worse honestly, but, it-it just makes me kinda jumpy around guys sometimes! It's not a big deal, or personal or anything. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad 🥺"

Peter B, Jessica, and Miguel all there as older parental figures and also literal parents, immediately exchange looks and agree like "oh hell naw, don't like that" and you get silently adopted by all three of em right then and there

-if it's a physically abusive father and you're still the victim of abuse, I imagine your dad had some suspicious figures suddenly show up in the middle of the night to terrify and threaten the shit out of him and suddenly you aren't getting as manhandled anymore

-can you imagine, like, you show up to Spider Society one day with a black eye "oh, this? It's, it's nothing. My dad is just, he's about to make police captain and he's really stressed about it is all" cue all your friends mentally high fiving around the table because your abusive piece of shit dad is going to die and you don't even know. When it happens they'll all be "oh no, sweetie, I'm SOOOO sorry :(" meanwhile they're thrilled bc now you don't have any parents and they can weasel in there as your new family, schedule your birthday parties, monopolizing more of your time, things like that

-goddd I just imagine it could become some kind of weird fucked up enmeshed scenario where the structure it's providing for your life is actually good for you meanwhile Miguel is like, retroactively kind of soothing some of his trauma both from his own childhood and what happened with the second universe he broke that it's just like. You're a grown ass adult and this man is tucking you in goodnight and saying "te amo, mija" at the doorway and you bet his ass is going to stand there and not let you sleep until you say it back. He knows you're just absolutely seething at him and he'll still refuse to leave without a grumbling "te amo, papá 🙄"

-He eventually just has you doing so much shit and depending on him so much that it starts to become second nature to you. one day you're in the Society doing one of the odd jobs you're allowed to help with and suddenly you're thinking, "Ugh I actually don't know what to do next, I wish Papá was here to-- WAIT SHIT NO I MEAN MIGUEL--"

-lmaooooo as a non Spanish speaker I keep thinking of how awwwwwful it would be if he actually forces you to learn Spanish. Not inherently because there's anything wrong with Spanish, but, I'm not always smart, and I can just SEE him quizzing your ass, forcing you to have entire conversations in Spanish, always clicking his tongue or chuckling at you when you make a mistake and he just thinks you're so cute struggling to learn 🥰 man hears you're trying to take extra lessons from Miles and he instantly drops everything he's doing to go track the little scamp down. Insert meme "I can forgive being an anomaly but I draw the line at teaching Reader bad Spanish"

-siiiiiiigh eventually the day comes when you're in big danger and you need his help, maybe you disobeyed him and was hanging out with some other Spiders in another dimension when there was a sudden villain attack, and he comes to your rescue as a villain does something dramatic like has a gun to your head or a knife to your neck and the second you see him you're just overwhelmed wirh a sense of relief, calling out for him, calling him dad/tio/papá whatever, and he's just like 😭❤️ pumping his fist internally, like YES you are so grounded when you get back home but also 🥰 you finally called him dad without him having to twist your arm 🥰 nevermind if the "villain" who kidnapped you was actually a Spider who owed him a favor, and this whole thing was to teach you a lesson about listening to your Papá, that's not important ❤️

-Miguel who forces you to learn Spanish vs Miguel who forces you to be Catholic. I can excuse kidnapping and forced adoption but I draw the line at making me practice religion 💀 no but seriously, he probably does have certain morals and values he instills/forces upon you if he thinks you need them, and he'll probably be one of those fathers, "are you leaving the house dressed like that? Go change" and orders you not to hang out with certain people he doesn't approve of or thinks have bad character (like hobie lmao)

-bruh you two will be on a super serious important mission and this man will be like "it's dark, hold my hand so we dont get separated"

Eventually it comes to a point where you're, not perfectly behaved but, just about. If someone finds Miguel, it means you're not very far away, or vice versa. Members of the Society quickly learn not to make any advances on you or make any "adult" comments unless they want to get suspiciously hurt during a personal training session by the big boss himself. You think you're safe just cause Miguel isn't around? Nah, cause then you have Peter B and Jess keeping an eye on you, and, not that YOU'RE aware of the extent, but, if Miguel ever gets worried, he can just ask Lyla what you've been getting up to, since your modified little daypass has her installed into it and she can track your every move ❤️ helicopter parent? Oh honey, you have NO idea...

[exhuastedpigeon]

Buddie Hiatus Fic Rec - month 9 Jan 16 - Feb 15

0-5k

might as well be drunk in love by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck Teen | 2.3k Getting little-spooned by his drunk best friend was not on buck's maid-of-honour checklist, but. it's happening

She Said She’d Do It Again by Pansys_goth_gf / @pansysgothgf General | 2.8k Ana Flores runs into the 118 four years after her break up with Eddie. It turns out, a lot can change in four years.

hot cocoa by evcndiaz / @evcndiaz Teen | 3.1k Buck is freaking out about proposing. He gets an assist from Athena, Bobby, and. Well. Eddie himself.

our secret moments in a crowded room by heartbeatdiaz / @loserdiaz Explicit | 3.7k In which a new probie at the station has a crush on Buck, Eddie is… a little bit done with the guy, if he’s being honest. And Buck is having the time of his life.

like a cat in the rain by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 4.6k Sometimes, Buck forgets the lightning strike happened to Eddie, too.

things you shouldn’t say to me by coldbam / @coldbam Mature | 4.7k Eddie comes out, sleeps around, and Buck hears all about it.

5k-10k

finally found what i’ve been looking for by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck Explicit | 5k buck's good at basketball, eddie's trying really hard not to commit an act of public indecency about it, and maybe, just maybe, a slightly bloody beachside pick-up game can be the start of something new

i am just a fool, but i have loved you all along by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 5.1k Buck asks Eddie on a date. Eddie spirals and makes a list about it. Everything works out in the end.

how to say what you mean by brownbananas (nickel710) Gen | 8.1k In which Eddie becomes a little obsessed with equipment maintenance and has a crisis of sexuality, and the two things are more related than he thought.

gonna make love to you for the rest of our lives by wikiangela / @wikiangela Explicit | 8.7k It's Buck and Eddie's wedding night, they're horny, in love, and obsessed with being husbands.

10k-20k

that green light, i want it by asteriasera / @asteriasera Mature | 11.1k Buck and Eddie hook up after Maddie and Chim’s wedding, then spend an inordinate amount of time not talking about what it means until the universe decides to intervene.

it's gravity after all by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do) / @lover-of-mine Teen | 11.7k Buck and Eddie get trapped in an elevator. What else can they do besides talk to each other?

and we are homeward bound by glorious_spoon / @glorious-spoon Explicit | 18.1k Buck and Eddie get around to telling the people they love that they're together.

Winter Prayer by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars General | 18.2k When a work conflict prevents Athena from accompanying Bobby to Minnesota for the ten year anniversary of his family dying, Buck and May offer to go instead. Over the course of the trip, they all learn more about each other, and Bobby faces his grief.

20k - 30k

let you set the pace by devirnis / @devirnis Explicit | 23.9k Eddie fucks Buck over a weekend.

30k +

A Minor Delay by rainbow_nerds / @rainbow-nerdss Mature | 43.6k Almost a year after the bridge collapse, a lot has changed. The team are scattered—Bobby and Athena on their Honeymoon, Hen on adoptive parent's leave, and Buck and Eddie... They may still work together, still have movie nights with Chris whenever they can, but things have changed. With Maddie and Chimney's wedding around the corner, Buck tries to make it perfect. And maybe, along the way, he might figure out why everything still feels... wrong.

The Cupid in Bel Air and His Thousand Kisses by Moonrose001 / @liptickyourway Explicit | 53.8k Eddie knew that when he and Christopher moved to LA, there would be a lot more deities than he was used to. What he did not expect was a Cupid that had it out for him, determined for Eddie to fall in love despite Eddie's repeated refusals, denials and threats. But Eddie needs a partner in the field and it seems like the winged weasel is the closest he is getting.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15) Month 4 (August 16 - September 15) Month 5 (September 16 - October 15) Month 6 (October 16 - November 15) Month 7 (November 16 - December 15) Month 8 (December 16 - January 15)

[togglesbloggle]

🔥The ice giants

Oh, this one's tricky. Do people have strong enough feelings about the ice giants for opinions about them to be unpopular? Even NASA doesn't care enough about them to send a spacecraft more than once in a blue moon. I think I'll try to weasel out of this one with the opinion 'all planets are interesting, even Neptune,' on the grounds that uninterestingness is itself the dominant opinion.

The midcentury explorations of the solar system were, in retrospect, kind of crushing for the human imagination. We went from totally unbounded speculations about the diversity of worlds- imagining robust ecosystems on Venus and Mars as late as the 50s and early 60s- to a series of photographs showing cratered, dead, atmosphere-less worlds. And 'realism' became accepting these photographs, building a story of the cosmos that is not just sterile but quite simple, treating the solar system as conforming closely to low-complexity models of planetary formation. Gravity collects micrometeorites and gas particles in planetoids and moons according to the ratios predicted by temperature and distance from the center of the accretion disk; terrestrial worlds close in, gas giants further out, ice giants further still. The planets sort themselves by density, with interior deformation or sortition based on thermal gradients, radioactive decay, magnetic forces; moons find a stable orbit or don't, and that's that.

But the thing is, once you actually get past that superficial Voyager flyby-photograph, these worlds all tend to have dramatic and exciting particularities of their own. Look at Pluto! Look at Titan! Look at Enceladus! Look at Ceres! Probably the most boring and well-studied planet I can think of is Mercury, and even that has cool stuff like solid ice at the surface.

Part of this is just noticing over time that the interface between planets and space (that is, their surface) is not always or even usually the most interesting part of them, and assumptions to the contrary are an understandable but misleading form of Earth-chauvinism.

And a larger share of it, I think, is just that once you get something substantially larger than an asteroid, the combined influence of so much volume, so much mass, and so much time just tends to amplify the variance of your system incredibly far beyond what you'd expect from your 'terrestrial, gas giant, ice giant' template. The model is actionably useful, don't get me wrong, and worlds rarely vary so much that they outright break their category. But nothing the size of a moon or planet is actually simple, and nothing on the scale of four billion years is actually stable. And so each of these things, no matter how straightforward the template, will gradually tilt and totter its way within an unfathomably large space of possibilities to something that is practically speaking unique, and which reveals something new about the cosmos that you can't find anywhere else.

If the ice giants seem simple, it's a reflection of our methods and our technological limits, not the planets themselves. We are, generally speaking, absolutely terrible about investigating gaseous worlds on their own terms- and maybe we simply don't have the right tools or the right questions yet to figure out what makes Neptune and Uranus special. But it's only a matter of time.

[sadtonight]

"He's like, a family member to me or something!"

Summary: over the course of your impromptu stay at Night Raven College, you gained two new important figures in your life: a boyfriend and a cat look-alike monster. In fact you grown on Grim and he on you so closely that now he actively "gets in the way" of your daily life, according to your boyfriend that is;

Characters: dorm leaders;

Warnings: none, reader is gender neutral, established romantic relationships, grown up characters;

Side notes: thank you for the wait, don't have motivation to do just about anything! Kalim's and Leona's part is kinda sad, damn, I'm sorry. I'm projecting on Leona like crazy- (I don't kin him but we are painfully similar 😔)

Riddle

— you being accompanied by Grim back in Night Raven College wasn't something unusual to Riddle. The feline had been reserved a special seat beside you at the Unbirthday parties (the chair with a stack of pillows) and was expected to wear special Heartslabyul bow around his neck and to follow the rules of the dorm;

— so when Grim moved in with you and Riddle, the later considered it to be a given for Grim to adhere to already established order. However, in spite of your boyfriend becoming laxer about the rules the monster still argued with the red haired more times than you could count, unlike Riddle who have been compiling lists of rules the weasel had violated ever since first setting foot into your shared house in the Queendom of Roses;

— amends were made each time, though one perpetual cycle of breaking a single rule drove Riddle straight into madness: Grim regularly ate the desserts meant for you in secret. The desserts your boyfriend ordered Trey to make FOR YOU to eat together. It was a tradition in your little family to hold afternoon mini tea partiers just like in Heartslabyul, in the yard surrounded by colourful roses, if the weather was appropriate, or in the house in the main room;

— eating delicious sweet treats, drinking tea and chatting about nothing in particular with you, his partner with whom he felt he could let loose and indulge in his hidden childish side, was like a dream come true, the pastime bringing him genuine delight. Riddle loved having your hand wrapped around his as you visited Trey's family bakery and choose what to feast on at today's party. Riddle loved setting up the table and brewing tea along with you, pulling our the china the two of you adored. And of course he loved the main process, during which your boyfriend couldn't prevent himself from beaming due to sheer elation;

— but none of those positive emotions would take place if Riddle upon opening the dessert box with your treat finds pastry leftovers. "GRIMMM!! Come here right this INSTANT and face the repercussions for your offence!!" were spine-chilling words you knew would make the cat monster dash into your arms instead of Riddle's. Your boyfriend would insist on putting his signature heart-shaped collar on the perpetrator, while you would do your best to master the most doe-eyed face and plead him to settle on letting Grim go with a warning;

— Riddle's hand's were tied: no matter how much the male protested, you would squeeze the grey feline to your body and pat Riddle's head to calm him down. If Grim was not to be punished, it was who who had to be. And the penalty was to be feed Riddle's dessert by him personally and to spend more time with your boyfriend today! You wouldn't dare to disobey Queen's orders, isn't that right?

Leona

— two cats living under the same roof rarely led to anything productive. Their relationship, if you could call it that way, hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows since Night Raven, although you did become an unwilling mediator, but the two would always try to make you pick a side;

— usually it was Leona who got the short end of the stick because he was a stronger magician and, well, stronger in physical and in mental senses too. It didn't mean that your boyfriend wouldn't take any opportunities to put a sassy monster, who celebrated his victory way to openly and loudly, and consequently you, back into place;

— for instance, if Grim managed to convince you to go out on the cloudy evening instead of lazing around on the couch with warm blankets for the rest of the day just like your boyfriend suggested, the beastman would straight up hide all the umbrellas in the house while you were getting ready to go out;

— as a result, both of you came back from the walk dripping wet, Grim accusing Leona of the sabotage. Meanwhile the male would shift on the couch making some space for you, smugly adding: "That's what ya get for not listening to me. Hah, it's better if you crawled here under the covers now unless you want to get sick. If that happens, you are all by yourself";

— another reoccurring practice happened in the morning. At last, no one was there to shake Leona out of the bed, so he opted for cuddling with you until he got bored or grew extremely hungry. Unlike him though, famished Grim couldn't just sleep on his grumbling stomach and needed you to order food or cook him a huge breakfast. In both cases it meant you were forced to get up, which Leona couldn't allow to happen;

— before the cat monster could make his moves, the male would swiftly take the feline and put him on the other side of the bed, away from you, and slam his free arm on top of Grim. This way, the cat was trapped, pinned to the mattress. The monster would try to wriggle free to no avail and scream for help, but Leona's arm basically got him in a chokehold, so poor creature couldn't make any loud noises to stir you awake;

— your boyfriend desperately wanted to have your attention and care solely for himself. Of course he felt jealous of that stupid weasel monster, obviously he wouldn't admit it out loud, whom you spoilt a tad bit more. But Grim meant a lot for you, and you always reassured your lover of deep infatuation you held for him, so the male tried to tolerate Grim for your sake. Leona hugged your body closer to his chest with his other hand which wasn't pinning annoying monster down. What he wouldn't do for you to not give up on him...

Azul

— oh this man right here could solve any "problematic situations" involving Grim through talking alone. And by "talking" Azul usually meant solving troubles by using contracts, bribery, blackmail, implicit threats etcetera, something he considerably improved upon after graduating from Night Raven College;

— thankfully, learning from past experience wasn't grey monster's forte, thus allowing octomer to constantly play same tricks again and again. Though he had to be creative about his convincing since if he didn't succeed in persuading Grim, the feline would tell on him to you and that would lead to unnecessary confrontation which only damages your blooming relationship!

— that's how your boyfriend would frame it: Grim wanted to create a divide between you two so you would break up with him and become lonely and lost, with no-one to confide in, with no benevolent soul to turn to, no shoulder to dry your tears on... All those theatrics happening because you ordered a take out, with the monster's preferences in mind which he voiced beforehand, and forgot to ask your boyfriend if he wanted something other than what he would usually order;

— neverless, the most hearted arguments between Grim and Azul happened on weekends or on the days when Azul was free of work. The male retained his interest in board games, requesting his fellow former club mate Idia to send new noteworthy board games if any appeared. The game night were established, and in concept it sounded entertaining if not for the weasel who couldn't stand playing logical games all the time;

— octomer never ever wanted to drabble in the whims of the lady luck and enjoyed winning "fair and square", even with the use of witty remarks that setted Grim off. Thankfully, Azul was your boyfriend so whenever you lost he would instruct you to do harmless romantic gestures, like to kiss him one hundred times or spend the rest of the day sitting on his lap but the monster wasn't nearly as fortunate as you: Grim had do to the dishes for a week or clean the bathroom spotless;

— the frustration Grim had after losing to Azul several times per session, knowing well what kind of things Azul would assign him do, agitatined monster would drag you away to do something way more fun. Your boyfriend, in theory, could play along and lose on purpose for Grim's sake, but there was no point in doing so when he could get easy wins: "Grim, if you wish to be victorious so badly, you should practice more instead of wasting your time on complaining. But I feel rather gracious tonight, so I could teach you a few tricks, however it would come with a price tag";

— they both played dirty: Grim would use his natural cute animal charm to woo you and Azul would get handsy and try to sweet talk his way not only into your heart but also into your mind. Gosh, you just wanted to have a normal board games session for once.

Kalim

— unlike a good portion of individuals you have meet during your time in the magical college, Kalim was among those who treated Grim nicely from the get go despite a rocky first meeting. When the question of you moving in with Kalim raised, your boyfriend immediately wondered if Grim was going to live with the two of you, hoping to hear affirmative response;

— your grey fur companion was more than satisfied with local delicacies, and since the feline could summon food with a swing of his shaped tail, there was no shortage of silver plates and golden trays scattered around the premise you lived on;

— one tiny problem did make Grim's fur stand upwards: Kalim's pets. He acquainted the weasel with colourful and diverse bunch, consisting of non venomous snakes and pythons, a few elephants, over a thousand of exotic birds and parrots, little monkeys, camels and many more animals. With some, Grim got along fine, but with other he couldn't even stand being near, like with alligators who jokingly warned the monster not to come close when they yawn;

— Kalim was worried sick about Grim not fitting in and liking new home, although the male masked it by being overly indulgent. You had to grab your boyfriend's hand and lead him to secluded, unoccupied room or area to talk it out. Your boyfriend insisted on handling everything on his own just fine, yet his wavery smile couldn't fool you;

— "I'm not making everything worse am I? It doesn't look like Grim is unhappy but..." the male lost his trail of thought as you gently combed through his a bit overgrown white hair, his head not being tied by anything and laying on your lap. You knew Grim for quite a long time and could read him like an open book, so you were up most truthful when you reassured Kalim: the gray cat monster was very happy living here;

— with time your boyfriend also learnt to read Grim and successfully pamper the creature. Everyone in the house could see how close they came to be, often causing mischief that you had to witness or take care of. It was amusing when they took turns talking your ear off telling you about what sort of things they did today. Naturally, you didn't pass opportunities to join in with them, laughter and tears doubling in quantity as a result;

— at the end of the day, Kalim would lie on the huge king-size bed, surrounded by warmth radiating from you and Grim, thanking whatever entity for giving him a chance to meet you, his priceless partner, and fun, little, cat-looking companion Grim;

Vil

— constant squabbling... No matter if on those long or short occasions when Vil was able to be home for a week or no more than ten minutes, they always, ironically enough, fought like a cat and dog;

— to give some credit to your boyfriend, he did try to treat Grim like a person. But to an extent, the monster was resembling a feline animal not in a visual way alone, but also in his behaviour. Probably the loudest argument thus far was when beautiful male made a mistake of condescendingly offering to call to a vet clinic when monster became as sick as a dog, after eating an entire box of spoilt tuna Vil had hidden from Grim long ago so the latter wouldn't eat it in one go;

— prior queasy, dead looking Grim who was flatten out on your thigh was immediately replaced by an enraged fiend who threatened to burn Vil to crisp for making fun of his crippled state. You had to beg your boyfriend to cook up a potion for stomach relief, which he actually made in advance, but pretended to be unassuming and struck up a deal which was to spend a several days holiday alone with you whereas Grim would stay at home;

— the struggle for attention wasn't the only challenge, Vil additionally was forced to lead continus and draining war with cat fur. He had approximately 3 different lint rollers in every bag he carried with him, not to mention the whole house being dry and wet cleaned, vacuumed and dusted every two days by you, maids or Vil personally;

— no matter how many times your boyfriend brushed Grim's fur with a cat brush, while holding poor creature in a steel death grip, that peaky fur found it's way on his clothes: "Grim, if you won't groom yourself more like a proper cat is supposed to, I swear not even our precious darling here would save you from the shaver!";

— needless to say, the weasel sleep in your arms every time after those words, in fears of Vil finally acting upon his threats, and letting out a sigh of relief when he woke up to finding himself still in his grey coat;

— there were positive moments in their lives as well. It was a rare but incredibly satisfying to stumble upon your boyfriend sitting on the sofa reading a book while patting napping feline beside him. Or when Grim boasted out loud about managing to flawlessly replicate Vil's yoga training, the latter putting his hand on the mouth to hide his striking, proud smile;

— Vil actually invited Grim to parties and formal gathering too, though he wasn't allowed to talk a lot. You were grateful to see your monster companion with a glint in his eyes eating expensive food and taking in glorious sights, and in turn your boyfriend was admiring your beautiful gladness you subconscious expressed;

Idia

— kitty-cat~~ Truly, it was a love from the first sight. No no no, not with you, but with your adorable, grey feline friend you spend time with! Hey...Idia loves you too, if he didn't, you wouldn't be living with him and Ortho in the same house in the first place;

— anyways, Grim was put off by your boyfriend in general, and also by the love towards the weasel, since he would rather not be treated like a cat, unless it was you. Don't forget the fact that Idia had tendency to make weird faces and noises, so when the feline was toeing between dream land and reality, he would sometimes be spooked by tall lanky figure standing before the bed and giggling like crazy in the dark after clearing raid in an online game;

— Idia couldn't tell for sure if he was envious of how close you were with Grim or how nice you were to the monster. Like, now he could relate to main characters who got pissed off when the mascots received tons of affection from their love interests in anime and visual novels. "Not faaair, if I had been a cute cat like Grim I would be getting stacks of kisses 24/7~..." Idia would lament under his breath, thinking you couldn't hear him, when he saw how you babied the cat;

— however, flame haired male would be lying if he didn't find you playing or just spending time with the monster adorable. Idia would shamelessly a with his toothy grin take pictures of you sleeping on your shared bed with Grim nested to your body, the thoughts in his head revolving around "stocking up his moe folder with more pics of you and Grimmy";

— Idia totally is that person who loves cat's but they are not that fond of him. Poor man would buy the tastiest tuna found on the internet and yet the instant Grim was finished with food he would leave from the male's lap. That was your que to wear cat ears, which belonged to Idia for some reason, and plop on your boyfriend's lap instead. W-well, your company wasn't all that bad too... Please don't mind the pink hair tips;

— even though Grim considered Idia to be strange and in turn Idia endlessly pined for cat's affection, they were chill with each other. One thing that bothered not only you but Ortho was that they both ate junk food in large unhealthy amount every day and holled in the house with curtains closed shut. Seriously, even you couldn't spend this much time watching films and playing video games!

Malleus

— their relationship was akin to the swings: Malleus at times found Grim amusing and at other times...annoying, dare he say. In the same manner once Grim found out the identity of "Horton", he was against of you dating literally "the scariest guy ever" but along the way he kind of grew to admire Malleus, but the monster was still wary of the fae who frequently summoned lightning bolts when he was disgruntled;

— you often playfully fought with Grim and got bite marks and scratches on your body and especially arms from the feline. Initially, Malleus mistook your antics for something more sinister and would almost waterboard the cat if you didn't decide to check out the bathroom. When the situation was cleared up your boyfriend showed genuine remorse, sincerely apologizing to the monster, whom you were drying up with a towel, but Grim never really forgot about the incident;

— although your boyfriend was still pleased with how skittish the grey monster was, because he could scare him easily and in this way take out revenge for stealing your time that you were supposed to spend with the briar prince. The weasel could run up to you and show you something on the phone, making you laugh, while Malleus would get an awkward chuckle when he tried to tell a joke. His pride was hurt and day was ruined...

— with this much knowledge stored in one person, the dragon fae had lots and lots of stories to share which he had read from the books or heard directly from Lilia. You loved listening to those, handling them like a bed time stories, though you never got to hear the endings due to Malleus using low, lulling, a bit murmurous voice, soothing you to fall asleep in the process;

— Grim on the other hand was thrilled to discover new interesting individuals of Twisted Wonderland. When the male's tale came to a halt, the monster immediately demanded to get the ending. Malleus only softly patted Grim's head and kissed your forehead, talking to you but words directed at Grim: "Please, be patient. I wish for your friend, and my lover in the same time, to hear how this legend ends. I can't help but wonder what sort of reaction it would spark?" he said mysteriously and layed back down on the bed, cradling your body, green eyes ominously twinkling in the dark, sending chill down Grim's spine and as if telling him to go to sleep already.

[ausfortheheart]

lust life - SIRIUS BLACK

(sirius black x female!reader)

summary: you've been hooking up with james potter over the summer, but when you return to hogwarts you find yourself drawn to his best friend. you've adamantly hated sirius black throughout your school years, and you're sure the feeling's mutual... or you were

warnings: sexual references, strong & suggestive language, description of injuries including blood, cuts and bruises, 14+

other parts:

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3 (current)

PART THREE

The bold red and gold letters were unbearably obnoxious- something like this had Gryffindor written all over it. The bright colours were in stark contrast with the dark greens and black tones of the Slytherin common room. You didn't even have to walk up to the noticeboard to read the massive words plastered across.

'INTER-HOUSE PARTY

WHERE : gryffindor common room

WHEN : friday

TIME : 10 PM

(any snitches will be hexed- courtesy of Sirius Black)

You scoffed at the last part, looking around. no-one seemed to be particularly interested and neither were you.

Upon closer look, you saw rips and tears on the sides of the poster. Whoever had placed it there must have used a permanent sticking charm to prevent anyone from taking it down.

You left the room, rolling your eyes.

On the way to detention you stared aimlessly at your feet whilst you walked, completely submerged in your thoughts. A certain gryffindor boy weaseled his way into your mind. Sirius Black- the reason that you were currently headed to Filch's office on a day when you could be doing Charms homework, or spending time with your friends instead.

So when you felt a hand on your shoulder you spun around so suddenly you almost tripped over your feet. Two strong arms held you steady, as you met a familiar pair of green eyes.

"James?" You asked quizzically, glancing around to see if anyone was looking, "What happened to making sure no one saw us together?"

Still chuckling at how startled you had been, he quickly ushered you into a broom cupboard. You were fairly certain a second year had witnessed the two of you do so.

After the amused look on his face had finally faded away, the both of you just stared at eachother awkwardly. Just as you were about to ask why he was making you late to detention, James took a deep breath.

"I have feelings for Lily." He blurted out.

You weren't sure what you'd been expecting him to say, but it definitely wasn't that. You stared at him for a second, confused about the momentary wave of relief that washed over you.

James looked at you uncertainly, unsure of how you'd react. You'd suspected for a while. A long time, actually. And James' feelings for Lily Evans simply didn't bother you. Perhaps because you had known your time together was coming to an end anyway; the passion the two of you used to have was gradually ebbing away. The boy opposite you jumped as you began to speak, knocking the dusty cleansweep by his arm onto the floor with a loud clatter.

"Cool." You shrugged, "It was fun while it lasted Potter." And you left, leaving James in the dark with a pleasantly surprised look on his face.

It contorted into one of shock as Remus slipped in not even seconds after you'd left.

He looked sickly pale. His footsteps were small, and he moved slowly.

"Erm.." James sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "Shouldn't you be resting, Moony?"

But Remus ignored him, "(Y/n)? Really? Out of all people- the one person your best friend despises?" Despite his weakened state, Remus defiantly crossed his arms, "Don't you think he deserves to know?" But James had already stepped out of the cupboard, and was lingering by the open door.

He gestured to his friend's frail figure, "You need to be resting, it isn't healthy for you to be up, especially not when it's almost time." He paused, "And anyways, it's over." James shrugged, "It was just a fling, and now we're going our separate ways."

"Are you sure Sirius will see it that way?" Remus inquired knowingly, but James had already left.

⚜

"Your wand, (L/n)." Filch snapped, snatching it the second you pulled it out of your robes. You raised a hand towards the doorknob hesitantly, the grime on it so thick that what you imagined had used to be a shimmering gold, was now a dull grey.

Filch glared, "What're you waiting for then?"

The caretaker's threatening glare encouraged you to open the door and enter. Filch immediately closed the door behind you. As you grudgingly looked around the room, it became clear that it must've been used for storage. Boxes were stacked up the walls, the air was stale, and the only source of light came from the full-moon which illuminatined the room through a large, floor length window opposite.

You groaned, checking the likely broken clock on the wall. Black was late, which wasn't suprising, but you knew that to clean this place without magic you'd need an extra pair of hands.

Heading to the moudly cardboard box closest to the door, you opened it up, coughing as dust billowed in your face. The contents seemed to be random trinkets that didn't have any practical function. Great, you thought to yourself, setting to work.

An hour passed. 9 pm. Black still hadn't turned up.

As time slipped by, not only had you finally realised that Black wasn't going to come, but also that Filch had locked you in.

The room was pitch black by the time Filch opened the door. Mrs Norris stalked inside as Filch took a look around, candle held high. Once he was satisfied with the cleanliness of the room he gestured for you to leave, reluctantly handing back your wand as you did so.

The hallways were dark and quiet. Even the portraits' inhabitants were asleep as you headed back to the Slytherin common room. You were exhausted, covered in dust and grime with aching limbs, but only one thing was on your mind.

The fact that Black had bunked that definition made you almost shake in anger. It was now midnight. You had spent four hours cleaning that room, and the person who had gotten you into the situation couldn't even be bothered to show up. Engulfed in spite and bitterness, you didn't notice the person ahead until you crashed into them.

"Sorry." You grumbled, prepared to walk past when you suddenly realised who it was.

"(L/n)?" Sirius Black stuttered in shock, as your wide eyes took in his appearance.

His hair was matted, and stuck to the sweat beaded on his forehead. A deep gash was just above his cheekbone; red glittered his face.

You stumbled backwards, hand shakily rising to your mouth, "Oh-- oh my god--"

Black looked at a loss for words, "I-- uh--"

"We've got to take you to Madam Pomfrey," you stated urgently, all previous anger dissipated in an instant, "you stay here, I'll go get--"

"No!" Black snapped, causing you to jump. His eyes were bloodshot, and were full of such a desperation that you had never seen before. Then, in a much more subdued and pleading tone, "She can't--" He rubbed his forehead, and you noticed his hands were coated in blood, "--no one can know."

You hesitated.

"No one." He emphasised, still tense, unsure whether you'd make a run for it or not.

Shaking your head in disbelief, your mind snapped into action, "Fine. Come with me."

Taking his elbow, you began to lead him away.

"(L/n) I don't have the time--"

You stopped so abruptly that Black crashed into your back.

"Listen to me," You faced him, eyes practically blazing, "You are going to come with me, and I am going to help you because I swear to god I refuse to be the one responsible if you're discovered tomorrow morning dead." Your breathing was heavy with adrenaline as he stared back at you silently.

"Okay?!" You snapped without meeting his eyes, immediately beginning to tug him again.

"Okay!" He said exasperatedly, "but it won't help if you tear my bloody arm off!"

"I ought to do just that after you left me in a four hour detention to clean up some disgusting room by myself." Ignoring his protests and unsympathetic apologies, you pulled him inside a room you often frequented, but with a different boy.

"Is this the prefect's bathroom?" Black raised an eyebrow as you pushed him down onto the toilet seat. Ever since you and James started having regular meet-ups, he had given you the password to enter the Prefect's Bathrooms. Apparently it hadn't been changed yet.

You nodded, quickly wetting a tissue and wiping off the blood from his face before taking out your wand. Black sank into silence as you worked, but his pained expression and sharp intakes of breath whenever you dabbed at a cut didn't escape your notice.

Brushing aside a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead, you murmured "Episkey!"

And the gash on his cheekbone quickly closed up.

"Where'd you learn that?" Black asked in awe, absentmindedly running a hair through his thick hair.

"Just because you don't pay attention during Charms doesn't mean everyone else doesn't." You stated, looking up briefly from rolling up his trouser. He had leaned back with a wolfish grin on his face, and you briefly revelled in how someone could look so handsome so effortlessly, before snapping back to your senses.

"Immature prick." You sighed, moving your hands down to the bottom of his shirt. It was soaked in blood. Peeling it up cautiously, you bit the inside of your cheek as you saw the wounds littering his abdomen.

"Didn't realise you were so eager to undress me," He smirked, as you instantly withdrew your hands in disgust.

"Can you not give it a rest for one second ?!" You snapped.

From then on he stayed silent, opting instead to rest his head against the cold wall and close his eyes. You began to murmur charms, working on each open wound until most of them were gone. The deeper ones would inevitably scar. His smooth skin felt warm against your fingers, and you observed how his muscles tensed whenever you accidentally brushed against them.

You began to wish you hadn't said anything.

After a few more anxious minutes, you sat back. There would definitely be some bruises the next day, but without a professional healer there was really nothing that could be done.

The silence was so prominent between the two of you, and your thoughts so loud, that you began to wonder whether he in fact could hear them. But Black made no semblance of opening his eyes or moving, and you wondered whether he really had fallen asleep. You cleared your throat to let him know you'd finished.

His dark eyes fluttered open, and you stared at the bruises forming under his eyes. Without much thought, you lifted your fingertips and brushed his right eyelid. Whatever had happened, it was no normal courtyard fight. These injuries had to be supernatural.

"I'm sorry." You whispered finally, fingers dropping as you began to tap them against the cold tiles on the floor.

He stared intensely, and you struggled not to squirm.

"I don't mind it when you touch me." He said bluntly, causing you to get flustered.

"No-- I meant--"

Sirius Black looked as though he could laugh, causing you to descend into an ashamed silence as he spoke, "Oh about yesterday? I deserved it I--"

"--about what happened at the Malfoy's." You interrupted, finally making eye contact, "I didn't know."

He stayed silent, but Sirius' grey eyes resembled a storm, the emotion so prevalent you found yourself lost in in them. His eyes bore into yours as you sat there, with bated breath, unsure whether he understood to what you were referring.

"I judged you. Unfairly. Just like Elizabeth did to Darcy..." You trailed off, cringing at what you had just said- internal monologue was internal for a reason.

Besides, he had likely forgotten and was probably wondering if you'd had too much pumpkin juice to drink during lunch.

You attempted to salvage your apology, "At the Chrismas ball, in the--""

"--in the broom cupboard." He almost smiled, eyes twinkling as he remembered your first proper encounter. As though it was a happy memory shared between two childhood friends.

"I'm sorry." You repeated, and he smiled so broadly, radiantly, that you couldn't help but blush, cheeks aching as you both began to laugh.

⚜

Everything seemed to shift. Much to the majority of Hogwarts' students' shock, you and Sirius began to be civil to one another. You exchanged smiles when passing in the corridor, you laughed when he pulled a prank in class, you even walked to Potions with him at the beginning of third period the following day. People couldn't seem to believe that a Gryffindor and a Slytherin who had despised eachother for years had suddenly begun to exchange niceties.

When Friday finally came around, Serafina couldn't contain her suspicions. Fully aware of what the gossips in Hogwarts could be like, she hadn't wanted to offend you by believing the talk of the school. You hadn't yet told her about what had happened that day - only about you and James breaking it off - and so she was desperate to know what had changed between you and Sirius.

Eyes practically shining as the two of you sat underneath the large oak tree in the courtyard, you started to explain everything that had happened when Sera cleared her throat. Her eyes were focused curiously on something behind you.

Turning around, you grinned as you saw Sirius nearing you.

You waved as he stopped roughly a metre away from you. He didn't return it.

Lowering your hand slowly, you noticed something had changed in his demeanour.

All of a sudden James was at his side, out of breath as though he had been running, eyes wide in...

fear?

"Don't do this mate," He began to beg uselessly, as you glanced around in confusion, students had begun to gather around, "She didn't--"

"Tell me." He began in a low voice, as James looked at anywhere but you, "for how long exactly you've been fucking my best friend."

hi loves!

i had so much fun writing this chapter! hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i did writing<33

as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts<3

- L

taglist ;

@cumslutforaemond @blackst0nes7077 @s0vval @starsval @ttulipwritezz @xreaderbooksreads @thewiselionessfantasy @willows-lane @kieyriez

___

these works are the property of ausfortheheart

all written content is mine, do not steal, plagiarise, or publish any of my works without my permission

[pinkanonwrites]

Hello~

the fics where jamil and azul turned into their respective animals were so cute 😭 may I request one with riddle turning into a hedgehog? tysm

You most certainly may! This one has been in the works for quite a while, so I hope everyone enjoys now that I'm finally getting it out for you all to read!

GN! Reader, They/them pronouns +1,700 words

"Housewarden! Please come out!"

"Riddle, I promise I won't take any more pictures!... Well, maybe just one? For the likes?"

"Snrk- Yeah, Housewarden! You'll be super popular this way!"

"Riddle, the sooner we find you the sooner we can figure out what happened."

Of all the things to expect when you waltzed into Heartslabyul commons that afternoon, you couldn't really say that this was one of them. Sprawled out amongst the furniture in various, uncomfortable states of disarray were your friends, clearly searching for something. Or someone, considering that the notable Housewarden of Heartslabyul was nowhere to be found.

As if to make the situation even more confusing, none of the boys seemed to be searching anywhere that would make actual sense for Riddle to be. Cater was on his hands and knees, peering under the sofa by the light of his phone. Deuce had somehow managed to weasel his head into the unlit fireplace, laying amongst the soot ad debris as he called upwards into the chimney with only an echo to respond. Trey was crawling around under the tea table in the sunroom with a deeply concerned expression.

And perhaps least helpful of all was Ace, who seemed to be picking up the same textbooks and flower vases on the coffee table again and again, occasionally lifting up one of his feet to check the underside of his sneaker.

"What are you guys even doing?"

Deuce jolted at the sound of your voice, smacking his head on the fireplace brickwork with a groan. The other boys all stumbled to their feet, dusting off their clothes and making their way carefully over to you, all but tiptoeing across the floor.

"Prefect! Did you see any adorable little hedgehogs in the hallway when you came in? Like, totes adorbs? With the grumpiest little eyebrows?" Cater's eyes were gleaming as he held up his phone, like he was expecting you to whip a hedgehog from your pocket and present it for him to photograph. Trey slowly put a hand atop Cater's phone and pushed it downwards and out of your face.

"We aren't taking any more photos of him. Not if we want him to come out at least." He added. Cater humphed, stowing his phone in his pocket.

"I didn't. But aren't you guys looking for... Riddle? Why would he be in the chimney?"

Deuce, with a face full of soot, piped in next. "Some sort of spell was cast on the Housewarden! One minute he was eating, the next, poof! We need to find him so we can take him to the Headmage."

"And whatever you do, don't take a bite of that tart, No matter how good it looks." Ace elbowed you and pointed to a half-eaten slice of strawberry tart on the tea table. Laying next to it appeared to be Riddle's magical pen, unattended. "That's our prime suspect for the magicking."

"You think... The tart cast the spell?"

Ace snorted. "You really don't understand how magic works here, do ya? We think someone might've cast a spell on it while it was in the fridge. So probably someone from Heartslabyul. But we can't figure that out until we find the Housewarden first. Sooooooo, if you aren't busy or anything?"

But you were already budging past the gaggle of boys and into the room to begin searching under furniture. Not that you'd ever tell him or any of his housemates (though you were starting to think Ace was catching on) you did have a particular fondness for the uptight Housewarden. And without reading into things too much, you were hoping he had just a touch of fondness for you as well.

Riddle didn't give you the same lectures he did to other students when you arrived with your tie crooked or your hair disheveled. He'd just quietly fix you up, tutting softly with just the faintest red to his cheeks. Then he'd seem to realize what he was doing, and rip his hands away like they'd been burned. It never stopped him from doing it again the next time, though.

He had a temper with others, but he never seemed to direct that anger towards you. He was notoriously strict, but more often than not you seemed to get away with merely a warning or a word of concern. Out of earshot, Ace had begun to refer to you as 'his favorite.'

You weren't quite ready to admit just how much that made your heart flutter.

"Of course I'll help. Is there anywhere you haven't looked yet?"

"We've covered most of the commons, do you want to start on the main hallway? He may be trying to get back to his room." Trey said. "Though he probably won't make it very far."

"Got it, I'll start there."

"Watch where you're stepping!" Deuce called after you as you made your way to the halls. "Don't squish the Housewarden!"

Thanks for the vote of confidence, Deuce.

But Trey was certainly right about Riddle not being able to make it back to his room. The Heartslabyul dorm hallways were full of staircases, wandering and twisting up and away into nooks and corridors. Even if he did manage to safely make it down a staircase or two, there's no way he'd make it up the next one.

"Riddle? Are you in here?" You called, though you doubted his ability to reply. You tread carefully down each step, checking corners and around each banister as you went. And sure enough, at the base of the staircase leading up to the first hall of dorm rooms, you spotted a little red ball of spikes attempting to scale the first step.

"Riddle!" You gasped, causing the little critter to startle and tumble from the edge of the step. As he turned around you could see that Cater has been completely on mark with his description, Riddle's little hedgehog forehead graced with the tiniest pair of little furrowed eyebrows you had ever seen. You almost cooed at the image, but you got the feeling Riddle wouldn't appreciate it.

Speaking of not appreciating, rather than scampering into the relative safety of your embrace, tiny hedgehog Riddle chose instead to turn on his heel and make a mad dash for the next hallway, almost disappearing out of sight before your brain caught up with your eyes.

"HEY! Riddle, wait!" You bolted after him. You'd teased Ace and Deuce before, watching them chase awkwardly after their respective hedgehogs during croquet while yours remained perfectly well-behaved. You'd have to apologize after this. Despite their small size, hedgehogs could apparently really motor.

But this hedgehog was still Riddle, and if Riddle's P.E. grades were anything to go by, it wouldn't be long before he started running out of steam. And the moment you saw the little guy began to falter, you took a running leap, pouncing on him and scooping him into your cupped hands. He didn't give in without a fight though, thrashing in your grip and jabbing you with his pricked-up quills.

"OW!" You yelped, hissing through your teeth at the needling sensation. Riddle stopped thrashing immediately, staring up at you as you kept him still cupped in your hands. He looked... guilty? If you had to guess.

"It's fine." You murmured. “I know you didn't mean to hurt me." He began to relax ever so slightly, at least enough so his quills wouldn't continue jabbing into your soft palms. "You should have been more careful though! Why didn't you just let your housemates help? What if someone had stepped on you?"

He furrowed his tiny brow, opening his mouth and hovering it over one of your fingers like he was about to bite you.

"You won't. You're too mature for that."

You called his bluff, and he huffed to himself, pulling back and closing his mouth again before curling into a little ball in the center of your palms. You sighed, moving yourself to sit upright so you could keep him cupped close to your body.

"I'm serious. I know you have an image you want to uphold and all that, but everyone needs help sometimes. And I know Ace and Cater probably weren't very mature about it, but Deuce and Trey were really worried about you! I was too!" You sighed, bringing the little ball of spikes closer to your face as your voice dropped into a murmur. "I don't know what I would have done if you actually got hurt."

It took a moment but Riddle finally poked his head back out of his irritated spike ball. He unfurled, sitting in the palm of your hand as he watched you, shifting back and forth in a manner you would almost call sheepish if you'd seen a person doing it.

"Can you please let us help you, Riddle? For me?"

A long moment of silence passed, before he finally nodded. You sighed in relief, bringing your hands forward to press a little kiss to the top of his head. "Thank you."

POOF!

A wave of thick, pink mist began to envelop you, heavy with the scent of sugar and strawberries as it clouded your entire vision. A weight seemed to have draped itself over your lap, but it wasn't until the fog cleared that you were able to make out where it had come from. Seated facing you in your lap with his arms draped over your shoulders and somehow, despite all odds, redder than you had ever seen him in his life, was Riddle.

"I-I don't- I didn't- You-When-How did-?" He was stammering so hard you thought he was about to combust, and honestly you probably weren't that far behind him. But your brain was too fritzed to try and put any words together, so your body did the work for you instead. You wrapped your arms around his middle and tugged him in, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

"...Glad you're okay." You finally managed to force out.

He froze up, his whole body locked in place and for a moment you worried you made the wrong move. But then one incredibly shaky hand managed to find itself patting the top of your head in an awkward, placating manner.

"T-Thank you... for your help."

You couldn't have asked for a more Riddle-like response.

[ghostgorlsworld]

Johnny Boy (part 4)

Werewolf! Johnny x reader

part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Part 4

Chapter 4

 Charlie hung around you at work, keeping you company while you shared the load of reshelving books. Usually, it was the intern’s job but the holidays had left you short-staffed.

He was funny in a bashful way, blushing whenever he made you laugh. It was nice to see that you were still desirable sometimes, that men didn’t repel away from you just because you were a single mother.

“So, what are your plans tonight?” He asked, straightening up a section of R.L Stine books. “I’m supposed to have supper with my gran, she made me promise to bring chinese.”

“Emma’s father is in for a bit,” you said casually. “He’s coming to the house to see her.” He was going to find out eventually, might as well get it out of the way before your date later this week. Charlie paused mid-shelf, raising a brow. “I thought he was out of the picture.”

“He was supposed to be,” you sighed. “Tom brought him back, and I couldn’t keep it from him anymore.” Charlie knew your story, he spent two years weaseling it out of you while you were just coworkers. You knew he had a little crush on you, but you hadn’t expected him to actually ask you out until, well, he did.

“That’s shitty,” Charlie said, frowning. “So, what is he threatening legal action?” Johnny probably would, to get to Emma. But you shook your head, “No, I just couldn’t bring myself to keep him away. She had already seen him and smelled him and was asking questions–I figured it was time.” “I see,” Charlie said, even-tempered as always. “Is he good with her?” You shrugged. “I suppose. I mean he’ll probably see her a few weeks out of the year, so I don’t know if it matters much if I allow him around her. I just don’t want her to resent me when she’s older.” “It sounds like you’re being very fair,” he responded. “I don’t know if I would’ve reacted half as well if an ex girlfriend showed up wanting to see our kid.” This was why you liked Charlie, he was so, so reasonable. He was older than you by a handful of years, in his thirties with a bachelor pad apartment and an obsession with historical fiction. The only downside about him was the fact he played rugby on his off days and his team was…sleezy, at best. They were all thirty-somethings that spent more time at the bar than the field. 

“Thank you,” you said, smiling. “I feel like dousing him in gasoline and tossing the match, but I think I’m hiding it quite well, aren’t I?” Charlie laughed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Very well, I think.”

On your way home, you stopped at the store for a pint of Emma’s favorite ice cream, strawberries and cream, and a pint of fudge brownie for yourself. You would eat it when Emma goes to bed and Johnny leaves, so you could fall asleep on the couch like a loser with your ice cream and Bridget Jones’s Diary on the telly.

Johnny was waiting at your house already, pacing like a caged dog. He looked up while you approached with Emma in hand, his eyes reflecting eerily off the street lights. 

He calmed when he looked at the two of you, the jitteriness smoothing away in an instant as he smiled. Emma let go of your hand to reach him first, digging through her backpack to show off the A+ drawing she had gotten in art class.

You frowned and moved closer–she hadn’t shown you earlier.

“Me and Mum,” she said, gesturing to your vague figure wielding what looked to be a baseball bat, Emma standing behind you looking scared. “That time when she hit that scary man really, really hard.”

The bottom of your stomach dropped out, your hands breaking out in a cold sweat at just the mention of that horrible night. You winced when Johnny looked at you questioningly, his posture straightening as if to intimidate.“Emma, hon, that doesn’t look like a good memory to me,” you said, shaking your head at him. Please don’t ask.

“I like it,” she said, tracing your stick figure’s stern features. “You haven’t got any teeth or claws but it didn’t matter.”

“Your mum never let little things like that bother ‘er,” Johnny said, bemused. “She used to brawl with her brother like a grown man.” Emma smiled. “She still does.”

“Okay, Emma,” you interjected, cocking a brow at her. “The ice cream is melting, time to go inside.” She nodded, disappearing into her room to shuck her school clothes and dig the clips out of her hair. Johnny caught your arm as you took the pints out of the paper sack. “Whassat she’s talking ‘bout, kitty?” “Oh, it’s…I don’t like to relive it, John.” “C’mon, hen, it sounded pretty fuckin’ important.” You sighed. “She got away from me at a grocery store last year, just bolted when I tried to catch her. I chased her around the store until I heard...well, I heard a scream.” Johnny’s hand tightened around your arm, almost to the point of bruising. 

“A man had cornered her in the parking lot. He was one of those wolf catchers, I think, the ones that take them and put them in those fighting cages.” You placed the ice cream in the freezer, your eyes clouded over with the memory. “I dunno what happened, I just…I saw red. There was a pipe on the dumpster and I grabbed it and swung and swung until there wasn’t much left.”

You remembered the feeling of blood on your hands, your daughter crawling into your arms to lick the tears off your face, trying to comfort, to bring you back to earth.

Johnny gripped your shoulders so he could look into your eyes, tilting your chin up with one of his calloused fingers. “You killed ‘im?” You nodded. “The police…they already had warrants out for his arrest and there was a video documenting everything. I got off scot-free but Emma…Emma saw the whole thing. I still can’t forgive myself for it.” “The fucker deserved it, love, trust me. You kept our daughter safe without teeth or claws.” Johnny brought you in for a hug for the first time in six years, his chest warm and broad and comforting. “And Emma will be fine, lass, I promise. She’s not like a human bairn–in her mind, you proved your strength as a mother, that you would do anythin’ for ‘er.”

Is that how they really thought? You relaxed in his hold without thinking, his shirt smelling like sweat and cologne and the unmistakable musk of a wolf. “I don’t even remember it, really. Apparently he got a few hits in before…but I never felt it–at least not until the hospital afterwards.”

Johnny gripped you tighter, his arms crushing your shoulders into his chest. “I’m sorry, kitty.”

“For what?” You asked dizzily, captivated by his warmth and smell. It was like he was putting off some kind of hormones, drawing you in closer. 

“Fer not bein’ here. You’ve done it all alone.” His hand came to caress your face, thumb snagging on your lower lip. “You won’t be alone again, kitty.” That made you pause. You stiffened in his hold, stepping away. God, he was still so dangerous for you. You were pathetic, this was pathetic, he didn’t want you–he wanted Emma. He never would have come back for you.

“Sorry, John,” you said, forcing a smile. “Got a wee bit emotional there.” But Johnny didn’t say a word. Just looked at you with his too-bright blue eyes and nodded, his jaw clenched with tension. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to be…touching. Especially in front of Emma. The girls at school are already giving her the wrong ideas about you and I.” You leaned your hip against the counter, trying to be casual. “I don’t want to confuse her.” You tensed, preparing for a classic Johnny display of the short temper he used to have. 

Instead, Johnny smiled understandingly. “Of course, kitty, I’ll do what you need me to.” He really was a different man. Perhaps all the war and killing really was good for his temperament.

You smiled at him, this one genuine. “Okay. I think I’m going to order in, how does Chinese sound?”

Johnny sat on your couch, eating beef Lo mein with your daughter on his lap. He seemed perfectly content, sharing his food with her and answering her ceaseless questions about explosives–Emma had found out that was what he specialized in. 

A Christmas movie was on the telly, one of your favorites, and it was nice to be able to eat a meal without Emma snuggling into your hip and picking the meat out of your noodles. 

Your earlier conversation with Johnny had lightened your mood, so you left them to the couch, curling up on the loveseat instead. You had been too distracted to eat at lunch so you got to work on your takeout, only feeling a brief bit of weirdness that Johnny had absolutely insisted on paying for the food.

Your phone rang from the countertop you had left it on. You sighed, setting aside your fried rice to answer it.

It was Charlie. A part of you warmed–you needed a distraction from Johnny. 

You slipped into your bedroom, leaving the door cracked so you could still keep an eye on Emma. “Hey, Charlie,” you said, cupping the phone to your ear.

“Hey, honey, sorry for calling so late,” Charlie said, the soft noises of an elderly woman speaking in the background. “I was just thinking about you and thought I would see what you’re up to.”

“Takeout and Home Alone,” You said, sitting back against your bed. It was small and only really had room for you–which was a deterrent against men who ever wanted to stay the night. “How is Gran?” “She’s fantastic, she’s eating pizza and watching Doctor Who on the telly, it’s our perfect night in.” You laughed, enjoying the thought of a man who would routinely eat dinner with his grandmother two nights a week. “That sounds nice.” “It is. What’s the bear up to?”

Emma and Charlie got along quite well, he was good with kids and Emma referred to him as “the book man.” “John is over spending time with her, I’ve left them to it.” “Ah, that’s right, I had forgotten. Do you need to go?” “No, no, they’ll be fine for a bit. I needed a break anyway.” You chatted to Charlie for a few minutes further before you returned to the living room, getting back to your fried rice without looking once at Johnny. 

“Who was that, Mum?” Emma the Nose asked, eyeing your shrimp in a way that had you rolling your eyes.

“Charlie,” you said. “From work.” You refused to blush, knowing that Emma liked to tease, much like her father. “A coworker?” Johnny rumbled, his eyes half-lidded and lazy. “Didn’t sound like it.” You leveled a look at him, a look that clearly said none of your fucking business. 

Johnny’s mouth quirked, though there was no humor in his eyes. “Sounds like a nice chap,” he said dryly, turning back to the telly.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built for Love Part 9 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warnings: If graphic depictions of violence and abuse are triggering for you, PLEASE SKIP THE ENTIRE ITALICIZED SECTION. It is a flashback and it is graphic.

A/N: Please heed the above warning if you need it! It gets worse before it gets better for our girl :(

Shallow pants filled the hallway as Charlotte clutched the side of a concessions stand. Her heart felt as if it was going to beat right out of her chest. 

She had no real coherent thoughts, only flashes of his smirk, his menacing eyes. And all she felt was panic and terror, as if he awakened true fear in her body that she thought was long buried. 

“Hey!” Charlotte immediately straightened up as she heard Malcolm’s voice. She dusted off her clothes and cleared her throat, desperate hoping her panic and heart rate would decrease. “Chris sent me to find you. You good? You look like you’re having a panic attack.” 

She nodded, her hand still pressing into her chest. “Y-yea, y-yea. I j-just f-freaked out… with… t-the audience,” she forced out. “J-just panicked f-for a sec.” 

She could not tell if he believed her, that it was just the audience, his eyes were filled with concern but there was a thread of skepticism there too. 

“Ok, well take a beat, take a breath. I’ll tell Chris you need a minute.” 

She took a few deep breaths, forcing all that fear and panic back to a figurative box. She could not figure this out right now. She had a job to do and she would have to push through. 

“I’m o-ok, I’m ok.”

“Ok, you ready to head back in? Chris wants to start.” 

She nodded, “Yea, yea. Let’s… let’s do it.” 

Charlotte barely remembered her lines, songs, or cues as she moved through the rehearsal like a robot. She was by far the weakest link among the cast, which was surprising to everyone, since she was typically running circles around everyone. She was thankful that none of the investors, including Shaun, stuck around long after rehearsal. He did not have a chance to speak to her or get close to her as she immediately exited the stage once Chris dismissed them. He merely threw her one last grin before he walked out the door.

Charlotte raced to the nearest bathroom, her quick lunch soon staring back at her. By the time she made it back to her dressing room to change and head home, she was barely standing, emotionally and physically drained. For a few moments, she just sat there, unmoving, staring at her reflection in the vanity mirror. 

She wanted to scream or cry or rage or break something. But instead, she just stared into space and at her reflection, spiraling into a deep despair she had not experienced in a long time. 

This was her own doing, she realized. She underestimated him, however he had managed to weasel his way into her world. She, foolishly, let herself believe time had dulled whatever impulse he had with her. His desire to control her new no bounds, defied the very laws of human nature in her opinion to move on. She had moved on, moved her life forward, and he was still frozen in time. That sort of relentless drive, he’d never stop. And that meant, she did not know if she could stay there. 

She knew as soon as Michael learned he was floating around, or worse, her family, they would encourage her to leave. And she did not see a world in which she could convince them it was safe for her to stay. Nor did she even believe herself it was safe. He did not do all of this to get close to her for no reason, and she knew the reason could not be good. She felt as if this was an impossible situation with no outcome that worked in her favor. 

However, despite the scenarios running through her head, the likelihoods and odds she knew to be true, the knowledge that her safest bet was to get on a plane and go home, she could not find any of them reason enough to actually do it. 

She stared around this dressing room and she saw it, everything she had dreamed and worked for her entire life. When she left the first time, that was a means of survival. What were dreams when your only goal was keeping blood pumping through your veins? Her life quite literally hung on that decision so she never regretted it, not much. But she knew, if she abandoned the dream again after breathing new life into it, she would never forgive herself. Her soul would never be at peace again. That’s why she was even driven to come back, her soul needed this. She had jumped and grasped at this dream and she refused to allow him or the mistakes of her past dictate whether she seized it. 

Reason fought her. She was courting fire, playing right into Shaun’s game. He wanted to be in her life, however he managed it. And she would never win against him. Those thoughts were loud, the realities pushed against her dreams, her human instinct to protect her physical body demanded she see reason. 

It was a tough decision. And one she knew she had to make alone. Because the moment Michael or any of her family, people she trusted for sage advice, found out, they would make the decision for her. Her brothers would sooner hogtie her and force her on a plane before they allowed her to be in his presence ever again. And she understood that impulse, knew the pain and trauma they all went through when she was with Shaun. But still, was even that reason enough? 

She shed her clothes of Ashley as her brain battled for the path forward. She had no idea what to do.  

“You got a sec?” 

Charlotte turned to find Malcolm waiting for her in the doorway of her dressing room. Internally, her entire body sagged. She knew he was likely there to inquire about her lackluster performance but she had no words or excuses. She was terrible and everyone knew it. However, still she dug as deep as she could to force a smile on her face. 

“All the seconds in the world for you. What’s up?” She could hear how labored and tired those few words sounded, how fake the pep she infused into them felt in the space. 

“Wanted to see if you were feeling better? You seemed out of it up there?” 

“Y-yea. Sorry, I know today wasn’t my best. I’ll be better for tomorrow night. Think I just need some rest.” 

“Ok well, before you go, can I show you something?”

She nodded, grabbing her coat and bag to follow him. They weaved through the backstage, which was almost empty save one or two people. She had not realized how long she sat in her dressing room. They finally stopped when they were center stage of the theater, the lights were dimmed but she could still see all the seats and boxes and all of its glory. 

“Just thought you deserved a minute of quiet here without everyone. Starting tomorrow, this room is gonna be filled with thousands applauding for you every night.”

She let out a breathless sigh as she stood in the middle of the stage. She closed her eyes and if she thought back hard enough, she could remember what that was like. The thrill, the joy, it was truly intoxicating. 

She only opened her eyes when she heard his words. 

“Don’t let him take this from you again, Charlotte. You’ll never forgive yourself.” 

She stilled before turning on her heels to face him. How could he know? She thought to herself. He couldn’t possibly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Yea you do. Look… I won’t claim to know what he put you through. But I do know that you survived. You left and you survived and you came back here to claim what’s yours. That’s a hell a lot more than many women can say. Don’t let him run you outta here like he still has power.” 

She shook her head. “H-How’d you…” she did not know what she even wanted to know… how’d he know her secret when she never told anyone and how’d he know she was considering leaving. 

He scratched his head. “Let’s just say I’ve seen women in the same situation you were. Took me a while to notice the signs with you, I’ll admit. And one interaction with him to confirm those suspicions. You really are a damn good actress. But it’s always in the eyes… That's the one place the facade could never quite reach. No one else knew or suspected from what I could tell.” 

Charlotte cast her eyes down at the weathered stage, her hands picking at the soft fabric of her black leggings. “You never said anything.” 

He nodded. “And when you quit and left so abruptly, I wondered if that was the right choice. My aunt’s ex was like him and one time, she told me that the one thing she needed but never had was a friend who just could be there. Wasn’t trying to tell her things she already knew or preach to her or force her out of a situation she wasn’t ready to leave. She just needed someone to create a space for her to be her. The show always seemed like that for you… the one space to be you. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

She chuckled, wiping the tears that streamed down her face. 

“Not much of a safe space anymore. I don’t even know what he’s doing here. H-He hated musicals and shit like this.” 

“Yea but he’s obsessed with money and you so this gives him both,” Malcolm mused. “W-when I recognized who he was, I spoke to him after you went back to your dressing room… before he left. He manages Issac Simmons’ investment portfolio. He’s invested in six award winning musicals and plays. But you know rich white folk, they never do the overseeing themselves. He hires an investment firm to manage all of his investments, monitor, and make sure they’re profitable. Shaun’s overseeing his portfolio. Issac attends meetings for the show as a producer and he gets to attend for the financial piece of it. How he managed that, I have no idea.” 

Charlotte let out a humorless chuckle. “That was always m-my problem with him. I u-underestimate him the extent of his cruelty every time… at my own peril. Probably planned this the moment I left, knowing I’d be back.” She let out a strangled sigh. “I can’t leave a-and I can’t stay. I don’t know what to do,” she laughed, the laugh filled with exasperation and fear and frustration that she felt in her dressing room, the battles that existed in her head.

“You don’t gotta keep making the same mistakes. And you don’t have to let him win.” 

She shook her head. “I’m not letting him win! He just wins… he’s bigger and stronger and smarter and faster. I c-can’t…” she paused. “I can’t fight him and I can’t beat him. I never could. A-and it's not just me I have to think about… Michael and my family… I can’t put them through what happened last time.” 

“In all this, I haven’t heard one thing… what it is you want. What do you want, Charlotte?”

“I want this!” She spun around, gesturing at the theater. “I know I talk big shit about awards b-but I-I can live without ever winning a single award for what I do. I d-don’t care about that part of it. I… I can live without all that. But I-I c-can’t live without this. Without knowing that I had what it took to perform on t-the stage as a lead and that I t-took the steps to achieve something I’ve wanted m-most of my life. For as long as I could want to be a-anything, I wanted to be this. A-and if I never get nominated, fine. If I never win, f-fine. That’s ok because, at least, I achieved this.”

“Want my advice?” 

“Please.” She settled on the edge of the stage, her feet dangling into the orchestra pit.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it today because seeing him brought up old shit. But you are a totally different woman than the last time he saw you. What’d you do when you were in LA?” 

She shrugged, unsure of where his advice was headed. “I j-just tried to find myself again and happiness… I guess. Found hobbies and just tried to live again. I dunno.” 

“Did you?” 

A small but distinct smile settled on her features as she thought about her friends and family, Michael, and her career. 

“Y-yea I did. But…” 

“No. No buts. You found you again. The only reason he had power over you back then is because you thought you had nothing without him. You thought you were nothing without him. But then you left and you took it all back. You took the broken pieces he left you with and made something new and stronger. You are stronger than he realizes or you even realize. He’s betting on you cowering, he’s betting on you giving up. What would happen if you actually got in the ring this time and fought for what you wanted?”

“What about Michael a-and my family? They’ll never accept me staying here with him back in the picture. My dreams or not.” 

“Look…” he sat down next to her. “Your family wants to keep you alive and healthy. So do I. But I… I’m selfish,” he admitted. “I know it and I’ve always owned that about myself. Because I care more about whether my decisions bring me peace at night, not whether others can accept them. You could call Chris tomorrow and tell him you quit and run back to LA. No one would fault you for choosing safety over this. Your family will breathe easier, the man you love will breathe easier and in some ways you will too. But,” he paused, glancing at her. 

“Will your soul breathe easier? Will your heart allow you to rest at night knowing you had a chance to fight for the future you want and you didn’t take it? If the answer is yes, then maybe you don’t want this and what it represents. And that’s ok too. No judgment. But the Charlie Chris told me about… the Charlie he met as an annoying freshman, his words not mine,” he added as a caveat that made Charlie grin. “The Charlie I met on my first day in Chicago who exudes star power from every pore of her very soul, the Charlie Chris staked his reputation to bring back… he told me that that girl would claw her way through mud, glass, and landmines to get what she wanted. He said she was unapologetic in her pursuit of her dreams. So if you got any of that girl left in you and have any doubt about your answer, then have that boyfriend of yours teach you some boxing moves and get in the ring. End this your way. Not his.” 

“I really hate that everyone uses boxing metaphors with me now,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. She pulled her legs into her chest. She knew he was right, this was what she wanted. But she did not feel strong enough to do what he was talking about. She was not equipped for this, the fight. She had never done it before. “I don’t know how to fight him and if I lose, there are no redos this time. I got a second chance… doubt I’ll get a third,” she admitted, what she was truly afraid of. That she was about to gamble her life on this dream.  

“You want a hard truth? No one knows how to fight until they have to, Charlie. Until one day, you realize something in you will die if you don’t. Whether it be your soul, your heart, your dreams, your purpose, or your physical body. Whatever. So you fight for that, for that thing you know you can’t live without. And you fight like hell because there’s no other option.  You’ll get hit, you’ll get knocked down. And it’s gonna hurt like hell. Sometimes you might get knocked out of the ring altogether. But you stay in the fight until you have nothing left. That’s life, that’s the gig. You ain’t the first person to feel ill-equipped for the fight and you won’t be the last. But I don’t know anyone who regrets fighting, just a lot of people who regret running, even with all the odds stacked against them.”

“And if I lose?” 

He pushed up his shoulders in a shrug. “You have to decide what’s more important, Charlotte. Do you want survival with a dark cloud over you or do you want to fight for the life you actually want? No one can decide if the risk is worth it for you. Not me, not your family, and not that man of yours. It’s your life… make the choice that gives you peace.” He patted her knee before pushing himself up to stand. He dusted off his pants before helping Charlotte to her feet. “I should head home, kids’ are with my parents so it’s date night. See you tomorrow?”  

She could hear the hopefulness in his voice, the silent prayer that curved around every word that her answer would be yes. 

Her eyes followed the gold trim on the walls, imagining her family and Michael cheering for her in the front row. She was tired of running away from this, tired of letting him steal good things from her. She wanted a good thing, she deserved and earned this good thing. And she was going to take it. 

“Yea.” She smiled as his whole body visibly relaxed and he let out a sigh of relief. “And I’ll be better… stronger than I was today. Thank you.” She hoped those two simple words conveyed her thanks, her appreciation for pulling her back from the edge of a decision she would have regretted her whole life.

He laid his hand on his lapel of his jacket and winked at her before exiting the theater, leaving Charlotte alone. 

She sighed and glanced around before nodding. This was her choice and her life. She knew what she had to do and it would not be easy but it would be worth it. It had to be. 

When she finally made her way home and up to their apartment, she was not surprised to find Michael already lounging in bed, shirtless, watching anime. 

“Wasn’t sure when you’d be back so I just got pizza. You didn’t respond to my texts? You ok? You look beat.” 

She watched him for a moment before sitting down on the bench at the end of her bed to take off her shoes. She took a deep breath and lied. She was fighting to have it all… her life and her dream. And the only way she could see to achieve that was to keep the amazing and protective man lounging in their bed at an arm’s length, for as long as she could. 

She knew this plan relied heavily on luck and prayer. Prayer that all the chips fell exactly as they should so Michael and her family’s path never crossed with Shaun’s. There were so many ways this could unravel and she knew it. But even if she had to hold it all together with scotch tape and luck, she would do it. She didn’t need luck forever. She needed it for a few months. 

“Yea, everything’s good,” she said sweetly as she walked around to kiss him. She perched on the edge of the bed next to him. “Rehearsal was j-just brutal. Day before previews, everyone’s just on edge. Wasn’t anyone’s best I don’t think. How are you?” 

“Good, I went to the comic book store and did some research. Think I got every issue featuring Killmonger they had. I remember some of it from when I read it the first time but lots of good info. Why don’t we run you a bath before dinner and then you can tell me all about rehearsals?”

“Sounds heavenly but I’d much rather you join me so I can hear about your day. I don’t even want to think about the show. Tell me everything you learned.” She rubbed his leg before getting up to retreat to their bathroom. 

“Want some wine?” 

“You know me so well,” she moaned. “You get the goods and I’ll start the bath.” 

She watched him for a moment as he rolled off the bed to go to their bar. Charlotte retreated into the bathroom and slumped against the vanity. 

“This is a terrible idea,” She whispered to herself before walking to their tub. But it would work. It had to. 

***

“Great show everyone! Found some minor things to tweak for tomorrow but it was truly stellar.”

The entire cast cheered, Charlotte hugging everyone she passed as they made their way backstage, their first official night of previews done and dusted. 

As soon as the curtains fell and the applause died down, Charlotte finally let out a sigh of relief she did not know she was holding in. She did it and it was amazing. She had thought rehearsals were thrilling but she had forgotten how truly otherworldly performing in front of a sold-out crowd was. And for the house to be so packed on their first night, she had no regrets. 

She was not surprised to find a certain actor waiting for her when she returned to her dressing room, a bright bouquet of flowers in his hand. Charlotte immediately threw herself in his arms, Michael lifting her off the ground. 

“Els! Baby girl! You were fuckin’ phenomanal. That was amazing. You were perfect.” 

“Thank you, baby.” She only had eyes for Michael while she performed. Every time she looked out into the crowd, she zeroed in on him, performing for him. And his reassuring smile gave her all the small boosts of confidence she needed to make it to the end of the show. She pulled back to look at him, her eyes searching his. “Y-You really liked it??” 

He laughed. “I loved it. It was a really great story, the songs were perfect. You and Malcolm’s energy was insane. I’m excited to see it again once it opens officially.” 

Charlotte’s entire body seemed to light up and glow, his opinion the only one she truly cared about. “Really?” 

“Yes.” He captured her lips. “I see why he fought so hard to get you to join, that role was made for you. Congrats. Let’s go out and celebrate. Take you to dinner and then we can continue the celebration at home.” 

She leaned into his embrace, her arm lazily wrapped around her shoulder. “Can we just go celebrate at home? My only idea of celebrating right now is being in your arms.” 

“Anything you want.” Charlotte quickly changed out of her clothes and headed out the back door, surprised to find a few people waiting back there for a glimpse of them. She stopped and took a picture or two before heading into their car.

Michael continued to show her with praise the entire car ride and as they entered the apartment. She listened to his favorite parts and his one or two small critiques that she found incredibly insightful while getting ready for bed. 

When she climbed into bed, she straddled his hips, her favorite spot to have true heart to hearts with him. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, kissing him softly. 

“For what?” His tone told her that he didn’t know what he was being thanked for. 

“For supporting me. I wouldn’t have been able to do what I did tonight without you. Every time I looked at you in the crowd, I felt th-this surge of confidence and reassurance. I-Its just… t-thank you.” She cupped his face. “Thank you for loving me.” 

His hands pulled her into his chest to kiss her deeply. “You never have to thank me for that.” 

He flipped her onto her back and pulled off her nightgown, his body settling between her legs.

“I think the star of the night deserves a bit of extra attention?” He whispered as he pushed a finger inside her, 

Charlotte’s back arching off the bed in pleasure. 

And for one night, she didn’t think about all the notes she had for herself on her performance, she didn’t stress over what everyone else thought, and she did not think about Shaun. She just enjoyed the bliss of a good night with her boyfriend. This is what she was fighting for and it was worth it. 

***

Charlotte pulled lasagna, Shaun’s favorite out of the oven, his birthday cake she spent all day making sitting perfectly on the glass display on the kitchen island. She had made all of his favorites, put on his favorite dress, all to ensure his birthday was perfect and special. His gift was neatly wrapped on the dining room table, an expensive watch he had dropped a million not-so-subtle hints that he wanted. She glanced at the clock as she continued finishing everything up, expecting him to waltz through the door at any moment. 

She did not have to wait long as she heard his key enter the door. She immediately and quickly checked her hair and make-up in the hall mirror to ensure she looked perfect for his special day, just as he would want her, before greeting him at the front door. Her bright smile faltered as she saw his friends in tow behind him. 

“H-hey babe. Happy Birthday! I didn’t know we were having company?” She offered, her voice remaining bright and sweet so as to not frustrate him. 

“The boys decided they wanted to watch the game tonight.” She glanced at the takeout bags in their hands of burgers and fries.

She glanced toward the kitchen, the meal she had spent all day preparing, unable to stop the way her lips tugged downward. 

“I cooked? Just like you wanted.” 

He gestured toward the living room, his four friends filing out of the entryway and getting settled. His best friend, Marcus, turned on the tv and basketball game loudly. 

“I don’t want that shit.” He threw at her, frustration coursing through her. But still, she could not let it show. She merely smiled and nodded.

“I-It’s your day, love. Whatever you want. I’ll just put the other stuff away for us tomorrow.” 

She hesitated before kissing him on the lips, hoping it would ease his anger. She doubted it. She used to be able to soothe him, early on, with physical affection and more intimate activities but not anymore. It was rare when there was anything she could do to make him forget he was angry, forget to rain those blows down on her, forget to hurt her in other ways. 

“You look fuckin’ terrible in that dress.” He did not bother to whisper that one, all of his friends pretending they were more engrossed in the game than his rude comment. 

She glanced down at her outfit, suddenly she could only focus on her flaws that it accentuated and how it was looser than she remembered. She had lost so much weight in the last couple of months as things between Shaun and her continued to deteriorate. Her weight had always been one of his favorite things to criticize. She was down to a size 2 and he still thought she looked fat… and so did she.  

“O-Oh I thought you liked this one,” she offered, her hands running down the front of the dress, which used to hug her soft curves and ass. It was revealing, low cut and shorter than Charlotte’s usual taste. But he had picked it out and often demanded she wear it. So she thought it was her best option for the day.

“It just makes you look like a fuckin’ whore. But maybe that’s good.” The word stung but she kept her face neutral, as neutral as she could. “High time my friends saw what type of woman you really are. They think you’re so perfect and pristine.” She tried to stop it but she couldn’t stop the way she flinched as he brought his hand to her face. However, the sharp bite of a slap never came. Though she could tell he found it amusing that she was expecting it. He did grip her chin though, painfully but not excruciating, forcing her eyes to his. “Maybe we could put on a show for them.” His voice dropped again, ensuring that no one but Charlotte could hear his threats. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby?” 

“No,” she asserted defiantly. 

He merely looked her up and down and offered a small “hm” and sinister smile before demanding she got them plates and utensils for their food. 

She quickly retreated to the kitchen, her hands shaking as she rummaged through their kitchen to find everything they needd. 

“That cake looks great, Charlie!” Donovan called from the couch. 

Charlotte could not help but beam a bit, the first nice word said to her all day. She knew she would get no such praise or compliments from the man she made it for so she would take it wherever she got it. However, when she glanced up and found Shaun’s eyes piercing into hers, her small glow dimmed to darkness immediately. Her thank you was barely audible over the loud tv. 

She wished she could return to their room while the boys hung out, escaping his glare. However, she knew she would not be so lucky when he summoned her into the living room and pulled her onto his lap. His grip around her waist was tight, nearly painful as he kept her there, forcing her to watch the game with them. She did not even understand basketball. He only let her go once to get him another drink before he forced her back on his lap again. 

She hated it and he knew it. Knew how uncomfortable it made her and he savored it. It was not just being on display, but feeling the simmering anger beneath the surface that no one else could see or feel. It was like being forced to watch someone build the stake you were to be burned at, knowing every moment it grew taller and taller meant certain pain and death for her. He wanted her to feel it, know punishment was coming. Sometimes she knew why and others she didn’t. But it was the fear he enjoyed, he wanted her to sit in terror every second while they laughed and cracked jokes.

“Shaun told us you’re playing the lead in your show tomorrow night?” His friend, Jason, offered as the game went to commercial. “Chicago right?” 

Charlotte did not take her eyes off her lap but she offered him a strained smile and nod. 

“That’s what’s up!” 

“Congrats!” 

All of his friends’ congratulations rang out around her. She just said thank you before turning her attention back to the game, hoping the attention would not cause the rage already simmering to turn to a boil. 

“Damn Shaun, you gotta a superstar on your hands there. Ready for that trophy husband life?” Donovon joked, all the boys laughing and joking about how they’d gladly become stay at home husbands’ to a powerful woman. 

Shaun’s laughter filled her ears but she was the only one who heard the fakeness of it, the fury that colored the edges and stole any genuine amusement from his tone. She desperately wanted to find something else to do, somewhere else to be. But she knew he could sense that, her fear that made her want to flee, through the tightened grip around her stomach. 

“Yea, baby girl is something alright…” he placed a gentle kiss to her spine and Charlotte recognized the secret message in it immediately, that it would be the last stroke of gentleness she felt that night.

She had hoped to make it to tomorrow’s show without a bruise so she could perform at her best. It was her first night as the lead, taking over for an actress who had to have emergency surgery. It was her dream and she wanted it to be perfect. But tonight had been one misstep after another, despite her best efforts. She would not make it to the stage tomorrow unscathed, she could only pray he showed her mercy and exercised some control so she could still perform. 

“So what about that cake though?” Donovan asked, glancing at the kitchen as the final quarter winded down. 

“Y-Yea, I can cut y-y’all some,” she made a move to go into the kitchen when he held her tighter, halting her movements.

“No baby, let me.” 

He stood and Charlotte settled in his seat, her eyes trained on the tv and none of the men seated around her.  

“Babe! Can you help me for a second?” 

She immediately excused herself, rushing into the kitchen to find him staring down at the cake. She noticed that he had scooted it closer to the edge of the island from its original spot in the dead center. He had a knife wrapped in his hand, waving it around casually as he examined Charlotte’s day’s work. 

“It does look great,” he whispered, Charlotte not sure whether to accept the compliment because she could detect the faintest amusement in his voice. “But I’ve seen better.” 

However, before she could respond, she understood why he looked amused. She took a step forward just as he moved and pushed the cake and its holder, a glass cake stand Charlotte received from her grandmother, to the floor. She gasped as the holder shattered into a million pieces and the cake splattered across their pristine white floors. 

She glanced from the newly made mess on the floor to his eyes, the menacing pair daring her to say a word or cry. She forced the tears that sprang to her eyes to stay where they were as the other men came rushing to the kitchen at the sound. 

“Damn. What happened?” 

One short glance at Shaun and she knew what lie she was to tell. “O-Oh I… um… just tripped while I was carrying it and d-dropped it. Y-You know h-how clumsy I-I am… Sorry guys… sorry, baby,” she offered, turning to Shaun. And even though she had not done a single thing wrong, she found that her apology to him was genuine. Her eyes repeated that apology as he stared at her, apologizing for not being what he wanted, for not trying hard enough, for ruining his special day. He had a way of making her mind believe she was the guilty party even when she knew in her soul she had done nothing wrong. 

“It’s ok, babe. I know you tried your best.” He gently kissed her on the top of the head, Charlotte bowing her head and caving in softly. “You know what fellas, let’s call it a night. Wanna spend some time with my lady,” he kissed her on the cheek this time, Charlotte hoping none of them could see how her whole frame trembled beneath the seemingly sweet gesture and in his embrace. 

His friends snickered and immediately gathered their stuff. She knew they merely figured they were being kicked out so they could fuck. Oh how she wished they could see it, see her terror, or that she had the confidence to scream at them to save her. But he had stomped all of that out of her. No voice to ask for someone else to help her and no energy to save herself. Besides, she knew it was useless. With everyone else, he hid the beast so well and so perfectly that they would never see the truth. Sometimes she, even still, fell for the facade that hid the monster so how could she expect anything else from them? 

When she heard the door finally click closed, she braced herself. For what? She did not know. Part of her yearned for the days when it was a mere slap across the face every couple of weeks. Now, he avoided her face as it caused too many questions. However, what he could not do to her face, he seems to desire to make up for it everywhere else. 

“Get on your knees,” he demanded when he returned to the kitchen, Charlotte still paralyzed in the same spot he left her. Charlotte’s eyes fell on the broken glass and cake, which made her hesitate for a millisecond, a millisecond she would quickly regret. 

“You are really stupid, you know that?” He shook his head before he backhanded her, her body falling into their table. He quickly followed it with two punches to her abdomen that forced her to her knees. He kicked her over and over again, even though she was down where he wanted her, Charlotte screaming and begging him to stop as she felt several of her ribs crack.

He grabbed her by her hair, using his fist to create a ponytail to force her upright despite the pain. 

“See we gotta have a long lesson tonight. When I tell you to do something, you fuckin’ do it. Got it?”

She nodded fervently, her body unable to determine what pain to focus on first: The pulling in her scalp, the sting on her cheek, the soreness already spreading through her stomach, the agony of every breath, or the shards of glass she could feel breaking her skin on her knees and chins. 

“I-I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry” she strained to offer. “I-I’ll m-make it… up t-to you.” 

However, he did not release her, Charlotte’s heart sinking as she watched his hands go to unbutton his pants. Her whimpers and pleas for a reprieve went unanswered as he forced himself down her throat. 

She just pretended she was elsewhere as he made her to service him, forcing her panic to calm enough to focus on other things. She thought about the director’s notes from rehearsal today, she thought about her schedule for tomorrow and where she could fit in a quick run to an urgent care, she thought about what lie she would tell to explain the bruises that she most certainly could not hide in her character’s revealing costumes. She thought only of actions, tangible actions she could take. Not her fear, not her panic, not her despair. Actions. That seemed to be the only thing that worked when he hurt her. Thinking of the things she needed to do to keep the one thing in her life that brought her any joy was the only way to endure it. After all, no was not a word he accepted in any regard, but particularly not in the bedroom. 

When he was done, he released her hair, causing her to collapse into the mess on the floor, her coughing and sobbing filling the kitchen.

“Clean this up, bitch. The floor better be spotless when I get back.” 

She sat there for a moment as he retreated, her head buried in her hands as she cried. The agony of every sob was only amplified by the pain radiating through her ribs. Her hands shook violently as she tried to clean, accidentally cutting herself over and over on shards of glass she could not see through her own tears.  

She had gotten the floor fairly clean before she noticed a steady drip of crimson staining the floor. She glanced down to see a rather deep cut from the glass on her leg, her blood falling from it. She immediately looked over her legs, both of them and her hands smudged in her own blood. She let in a sharp breath, which quickly turned to pants of panic as she fell forward to the floor. 

It was not that she had not seen her own blood before but the sight felt like reality hitting her like a train. This would be her life… for the rest of her life. Day after day of killing herself to be perfect for him, to do every action by the letter of his law, only to end up in the same spot: broken beneath him. He’d never stop, he’d never change, and she’d never be perfect enough. Because he didn’t want her to be. He wanted her to be this broken, bleeding shell of a woman until he grew tired of her. 

And that reality, the first time she forced herself to contend with the prospect of such a bleak future, made her insides twist in agony, adding to the pain she already felt. Pain… that was it for her. That was all she had known and would know: pain. She could hold tight to frivolous dreams like being the lead in a show but none of it even mattered. Her life was just one series of blows after another. He had taken everything else, it would not be long before he took that last sliver of light in her life with him. 

“Charlotte! Charlotte, baby…” 

She moaned into the floor, shaking her head, which she had buried into her arm on the floor. She was in too much pain, everything ached and hurt and she would not survive another thing. She knew it would only make it worse, more painful but she resisted, resisted his touch as he turned her over and straddled her. 

“No! NO! Let me go, let me go!” She pushed and fought against him, using her last bit of energy to buck his body off of hers even as he pinned her hands to the ground, which felt softer and like she was sinking into it… 

“Charlotte! Els! It’s just me! Babe! Wake up!” 

Michael’s calls were frantic as he straddled her out of control limbs to subdue her. His eyes filled with unshed tears and trepidation as he tried to force her out of whatever nightmare had its grips on her mind. 

However, he quickly realized grabbing her only amplified the issue, her erratic movements to escape his touch only intensifying as he tried to help her. However, he was terrified to let her go, terrified she would accidentally hurt herself or topple over the side of the bed. 

This was not the first night Charlotte had woken him up with nightmares lately. Every night for the last week in fact. Most were soft whimpers and pleas that ended fairly quickly. He would inquire about them the next morning but she never seemed to remember what plagued her. However, tonight, when he woke up to those whimpers, it was far worse. It took mere minutes for them to turn into all out screams and pleas for mercy to an unknown assailant. 

Her eyes were open but utterly unseeing, filled with pain and terror he wished he had never seen on her. Her body was active but her mind was still trapped in whatever hellscape her subconscious conjured. 

“P-Please,” she whimpered. “D-don’t… I-I c-can’t… t-take a-any… m-more. Please. I-I’ll be b-better, I-I pr-promise.” 

Her pleas to a person who was not there sent splinters through his soul, he wished he could do more to help her but he was utterly helpless. Even as she begged, her body continued fighting him, unaware that he was not her enemy. 

“Els… love. H-hey, it’s me… it’s Bakari. It’s Bakari… y-you're safe, you're safe. Wake up for me,” he opted to match her tone, soft whispers that conveyed all of the love he held for her, hoping that would infiltrate the terror that whipped her into this frenzy. 

He loosened his grip around her wrists and settled next to her as her body relaxed, his words and gentle touch seeping through slowly but surely. He kept one hand on her, loose but gentle as he caressed the inside of her wrist. He just had to wait for her mind to catch up, to realize the threat she felt was fiction, not reality. 

“B-Bakari…” she whispered, his name coming out as a sob of relief. She sobbed as she realized where she was, Shaun was gone and her boyfriend sat beside her, his face in utter shock. She threw herself into his arms and cried into the nap of his neck. The visions from her nightmare, no not a nightmare she realized. A memory, one she had buried so deep, she had almost forgotten it. She glanced down at her hand, her normal one replaced with a vision of her dirty bloodied one from that night. 

She could not control it as she felt her stomach immediately turn. She pulled herself away from Michael and leaned over the bed and retched. She groaned in pain as she heaved and flinched as Michael went to touch her back to comfort her.

“I-I’m sorry,” she kept repeating in the darkness as she realized what she had done, how she had embarrassed herself in front of him. 

“Don’t apologize, love. Can you stand?” 

She nodded faintly. 

“Ok,” he helped her out of the bed on his side and led her to the bathroom. He sat her on the closed toilet, Charlotte’s eyes still a bit distant and clouded, though he knew she could hear him. He crouched down to be eye-level with her, his fingers whisking away the tears that continued to stream down her face. His tone was gentle as if he were talking to someone made of glass, anything other than a soft word would cause her to shatter into a million pieces.

 “You ok for a few minutes? I’ll clean up as best I can out there while you shower and brush your teeth. And I’ll get the housekeepers here tomorrow. We can sleep in the other room for the rest of the night.” 

She nodded, squeezing his hand before he left her. She did not move for a few moments, she just sat there, in shock. She had never experienced a nightmare quite like that before. She hated the wreckage he was still able to create in her life, how one glance had shredded through her subconscious. 

She knew her house of cards was close to toppling, her web of lies would unravel. Michael was perceptive, noticed every change in her behavior. He would wait until the morning because he knew she was too fragile right them but then he would demand answers. And she did not know if he would accept “I don’t remember” this time. 

When she finished, Michael was waiting for her with her favorite tea, a sweatshirt, and underwear. He helped her get dressed and led her to the couch. 

“Wanna j-just crash on the couch so you can watch a bit of tv to calm down?”

She nodded quietly. He helped her snuggle up in her favorite thick blanket and rest with her head in his lap. His fingers gently massaged her scalp through her scarf. He could still feel her body tensing beneath him, none of her usual relaxation methods working to ease whatever plagued her. 

“What’s wrong, Els? You’ve had a lot of nightmares but that one was… You sure you’re gonna be ok when I go to LA tomorrow? I can  reschedule or come back early? Maybe you can ask Chris for a day off.” 

“Y-yea, that’s it. I promise,” she whispered, clenching her eyes shut. “And no, you’re staying an extra couple days to see your family. You should do that.” She forced herself up and kissed him softly. “I’m ok, really. I t-think j-just the longer I’m back here, the more old shit it brings up. Besides, we only have two shows before opening night… two more days. Chris would k-kill me if I miss one. It was j-just a dumb flashback. I’m ok. G-get on your flight tomorrow, I'll keep you updated and I'll be fine."

He nodded and she fell back onto his lap. She immediately felt racked with guilt. Of course he believed her, she had never given him a reason to distrust her until now. She closed her eyes and tried to force herself to sleep as Michael’s soothing hands comforted her. But her inability to sleep this time had little to do with fear and a lot to do with her own guilt. 

These nightmares were her punishment for lying, she knew that. All of the stress and panic she was hiding just manifested in her dreams, but amplified.

It’s for a good reason, it's for a good reason, she reminded herself. Though, she could not dismiss the nagging concern that when this house of lies finally fell, Michael would certainly not see it that way. 

***

“So are you gonna miss having Michael there tomorrow night?” Chris asked as they watched everyone mingle at the cocktail hour one of the producers hosted. Tomorrow was the big day and everyone was excited and on edge, there was no inbetween. 

She shrugged. “A bit. But he sent the most gorgeous flowers and got a massage for Sunday morning. He’ll be back mid next week and already bought a ticket to see it again when he’s back. I told him he’s gonna get tired of it.”

“He definitely will. A month in and Jason,” he gestured to his partner who was chatting across the room, “Barely wants to hear a note from one of my shows ever again. Let alone see it for the 100th time. Anyway, cheers,” they clinked their champagne flutes against each other’s. “Tomorrow’s your big night. You're gonna be a star once the reviews hit and this is all said and done."

Charlotte bowed her head. “All thanks to you.”

He shrugged. “I just know talent when I see it. Oh shoot. Isaac and his financial guy just got here. I should go say hi. Be right back.” He squeezed Charlotte’s arm before disappearing into the crowd, her eyes following him until they landed on Shaun and Isaac. Shaun, thankfully, did not notice her yet. But she did not linger long in the spot to give him the opportunity.

She quickly turned and moved through the crowd, making conversation with other investors and actors. It was a decent enough crowd that she could avoid him artfully. She and Shaun did a skillful dance the entire night. Every time he got too close, she spun away or Malcolm or Vanessa swooped in and artfully redirected his attention. It was dizzying but by the time she left to head downstairs to her car, she thought she had made it through another Shaun sighting without incident. And to think, she was going to tuck her tail between her legs and run home. 

However, she should have known one cardinal rule: luck always runs out eventually.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Her steps down the hallway halted as she worked to slide on her coat. He was perched against the elevator as if he had been waiting for her.

She glanced around, the hallway was a ghost town as everyone else was still partying and having a good time. She could faintly hear Chris captivating the entire room with a third story of the night. His second one was Charlotte’s cue that it was time to head home. She had tried to sneak out unnoticed but now he blocked her path down to her car.

She studied him for a moment, her eyes trailing over his body from head to toe. He was still as handsome and captivating as she remembered, his brown skin was flawless, his suit reeked of wealth and high-quality tailoring. His appearance had not changed one bit. However, whatever captivated her about him the first time was long gone. She had been the moth to his flame, he drew her in effortlessly back then. But now, she only saw the facade for what it was: a mask to hide who he really was. She could not believe she fell for it the first time.

His stature remained tall and wide, making her feel physically powerless and inferior with her shorter stature. It was David and Goliath reincarnated but she had no rock and slingshot to save her. He could still squash her like a little bug and he knew it. Her confidence wilted like a flower with no water with every passing second underneath his glare. She hated the effect he still had on her, how her soul and bones seemed to recognize him and fall back into those patterns to protect herself. However, she remembered her mantra, she was fighting back. No more cowering, even if her fear wafted off of her like she was prey and he was her predator. 

“It's good to have you back, baby. Miss me?” 

“I-I…” her voice faltered for a moment before she drew herself to full height. It did little but she felt more assured when she answered him. “No. And I’m not your baby. I left you and I moved on. W-what are you even doing here?” 

She hoped her voice sounded more confident to him than it did against her own ears. She sounded like a helpless child to stand up to their bigger and stronger bully.

He smiled, still that menacing smirk that sent chills down her spine. He circled her as he spoke, a hawk surveying its dinner. 

“I manage all of Isaac’s investments. He was one of my rivals’ clients but when I found out his big investments were in Broadway… It was the fuckin’ long game, I’ll admit,” he reasoned. “But I figured I could get two things I wanted. I manage his portfolio, make recommendations, and I could keep my eye out for the Charlotte Bennett’s epic return. Worst case scenario, Issac makes a lot of money, so I make a shit ton of money. And best case scenario, I’m in the perfect position to see my favorite girl again. You know when I read that you were gonna be in this show, it wasn’t even a hard sell. As soon as I mentioned it, he said ‘every show Chris writes turns to money in my pocket.” He stopped in front of her, his finger grazing her cheek. His eyes seemed to light up as he watched her flinch beneath it, despite how hard she tried not to. 

“How’d you even know I’d be in the show? I don’t remember you having a love for Broadway.” 

“Oh I don’t give a fuck about any of this,” he waved his hand. “But I do still care about you. And like any good investor, I like to keep a close eye on my best investments. And you were my greatest one… so much time and energy I put into you. I know you better than you know yourself. Didn’t know what show or when, but this was always your dream. People leave but they always come back home eventually. It just required patience and time. You surprised me though… I’d thought you’d make me wait a lot longer than two & a half years.” 

She tried to school her breathing. At this point, she would consider winning this fight to be ensuring he did not see the terror that raged beneath the surface. When she made this choice to say, she had forgotten what this part felt like. To feel his simmering anger up close, to feel primal fear like this. She now remembered why she had considered running in the first place. 

With every step he took toward her, Charlotte took one step back until he had her pressed against the wall. 

“I missed you so much,” he whispered, one arm wrapping around her waist to pull her close while the other inched up her thigh beneath her dress. She wanted to flinch, disgusted at how his hands felt against her skin. “Did you miss me?” 

She shook her head vehemently, one arm pushing all of her weight into his chest to push him off while the other pushed off his wandering hand. She hated that he still felt entitled to her body and her. Her mind drifted back to Michael and one of the boxing moves he showed her when someone had you pressed against the ropes. She did not even give it a second thought as she jabbed her shoulder and entire weight into it and shoved him off of her. 

She quickly moved from the wall and faced him. She knew she was only able to do that because she caught him off guard, the surprise in his face told her that much. 

They don’t expect you to fight, Malcolm’s words came back to her. She would have to thank him again for that tidbit. 

But she was merely happy to get his disgusting hands off of her, that was enough for now. She also made a mental note to thank Michael one day for teaching her that move before she turned her attention back to him. That one maneuver infused her with a new spark of confidence. She was not the same woman, she had grown and moved on and she would not be so easily intimidated ever again. 

She squared her shoulders and stared at him as he blocked her way out.

“Move, Shaun. I don’t miss you and I never want to see or speak to you again. Y-You don’t get to waltz in here after years and act like you own me. Whatever game you’re playing, enjoy playing it alone. We’re done. Let me go,” she demanded, her voice sounding as strong as it had been since she spotted him earlier. “Now.” 

However, Shaun seemed unperturbed by her change in demeanor and stronger voice. He merely laughed at her show of strength. 

“Let you go? After I spent years turning you into the perfect woman? And don’t kid yourself, Charlie. That woman is still in there, underneath this bullshit facade you show to the world. You’re mine, Charlie. My perfect girl. You can move across the country, date other people… and you’ll still always be mine.” 

Charlotte shook her head vehemently. “I-I am not yours! I don’t want you, Shaun. I’m in love with someone else. And he…” she sighed. “He doesn’t hurt me like you did, he doesn’t scare me, or talk down to me. He loves me. I didn’t come back for you. I came back to do this show and to start building a life with him. That’s it. There is no us ever again.” 

She cowered slightly as she saw anger flash across his eyes. 

“Oh you think you’re better than me now?” 

“I think… I know I deserve better than you. And that I don’t love you… and that you can never hurt me like you did again.”

She barely had time to get the last word out before she doubled over as he threw a jab at her ribs. She immediately crumpled to the ground in shock, pain radiating through her abdomen. He followed it up with a kick to the same area that made tears spring to her eyes. It took everything to keep from screaming, she knew everything else was drowned out by the loud music of the party down the hall. It was quick, over before she even had the chance to attempt to defend herself. All she could do was whimper as she tried to push herself onto all fours, one hand immediately shielding her side from another kick.

“D-don’t, don’t…” she pleaded, her apologies flowing with each heaving breath. “I-I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry.” 

He crouched down low beside her. “There she is,” he beamed. “The real Charlotte. It seems like you forgot who the fuck has power here. Cause it sure as hell ain’t you or that nigga you with. You breathe because I allow it, you’ll get up there and sing that bullshit every night because I let you. You lived carefree in LA because I allowed it. You don’t deserve shit. Still the worthless whore I remember. Don’t let the fans in there fool you, Charlie. You’re still nothing without me. Understand?”

When she didn’t immediately answer, he gripped her face tightly, forcing her eyes to him. 

“I said, do you fuckin’ understand?” 

“I-I u-understand.” 

He immediately let her go, her face falling down as tears stained her cheeks.  

“Get up,” his voice was so filled with disgust, she almost flinched again. “You don’t want people to see you like this, do you?” 

She did not even watch as he sauntered back to the party, leaving Charlotte alone and broken on the floor. She sat there for a moment before she forced herself to her feet and dusted herself off. She pressed her hands into her eyes and wiped away her tears. 

She gingerly tested her range of motion, a sharp exhale escaping her. It hurt when she moved but it wasn’t unbearable. If she could dance through broken ribs, she could certainly get through bruises. But she knew there would be no way to hide the bruise that would form from Michael when he returned from LA. But she decided that was a problem for later. She would just have to spin a larger web.

Charlotte quickly rushed into the elevator to ensure no one saw her. When she slid into her car, she demanded their driver drive around the city for 20 minutes before he took her home. She anxiously looked over her shoulder every 30 seconds as if she could pick Shaun out of the sea of cars behind her while she held back tears. 

When she finally made it up to her apartment, she did not even change her clothes. She crawled into a ball on the couch and turned on the tv. She had finally dozed off when her phone rang. 

“H-Hey babe,” she whispered as she answered Bakari’s FaceTime.

“Oh, I’m sorry love. I figured you were still out at that event. You ok?” 

She smiled and nodded. “Y-Yea, yea. I j-just wasn’t feelin’ great at the party. Long day a-and t-too much to drink I think. Stressing for tomorrow. I didn’t even take off my make up,” she chuckled. “Tell me all about your first couple meetings while I get ready for bed.” She pushed the conversation back to him, hoping she had said enough to ease any concerns he had. 

Michael did not keep her on the phone long as he could tell she was exhausted. But he did share highlights from his meetings and screen test with Chadwick, gushing - in the most manly way possible - about how excited he was to work alongside Chadwick and a couple of the other actors who were there. There was another day of reading and screen tests with a couple other cast members the next day but it seemed as if everyone had loved him.  Though she was tired, his words were a breath of fresh air, the thing she needed to tip the scales of this day back in the right direction. 

“I knew it. I’m so happy for you, love. The last couple will go great. Sounds like they’re just a formality?”

“Basically. Team’s gotta talk numbers but I think it’s a done deal. Ryan said the role is mine and he ain’t auditioning anybody else.” 

She mustered up as much energy as she could to let out a couple of enthusiastic cheers. 

“Good. Well I’ll call you tomorrow to tell you how opening night goes. Enjoy the time with the fam and we’ll celebrate when you get back?” 

“Sounds good. See you on Wednesday, love. Get some rest. You sure you’re alright?”

“Y-Yea,” her voice cracked as the weight of the day and all her lies got to her. She so desperately wanted to fall and break down and sob. But she couldn’t. And she knew if she lingered under his stare, he would push. And one more push and she would crumble. “Love you, bye.” She said quickly before hanging up the phone. 

She clenched her phone in her hand angrily and banged it on the counter, a slight sob escaping her. 

She slid out of her dress and curled up in one of Michael’s sweatshirts before returning to the couch. Her eyes stayed trained on the tv all night, not falling asleep until the wee hours of the morning. 

Thousands of miles away, Michael could not relax either. He was in bed and could not stop thinking about Charlotte. 

Something was not right. He searched social media and the news to see if something had gone wrong at the last night of previews but all was quiet and the few posts he saw were extremely positive. He felt like a stalker but he checked all of her co-stars' social media accounts, studying every picture and video they posted , studying the rare glimpses of Charlotte in backgrounds. And still nothing. She looked tired but otherwise happy and joyful like he left her. In every photo he could find, she was smiling and laughing and clearly joking around. 

After staring at the wall for an extra hour, he remembered that he had another option to get answers that did not involve Charlotte at all. 

He scrolled through his contacts until he found Rob’s number. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel while the phone rang. 

“Mr. Jordan, what can I do for you?” The man sounded groggy as if he had been asleep. 

“Hey Rob. Sorry for waking you up. But you took Charlotte home tonight from the party right?” 

“Yes sir, about 3 hours ago… around 1:30 a.m.” 

Michael nodded. “Did she seem ok to you? Was she feeling alright or looked upset or hurt in any way?” 

A distinct and pregnant pause filled the phone, a pause that filled him with dread, his protective side immediately kicked into overdrive. 

“Rob. What happened?” 

The older man sighed. “I don’t know, sir. And I mean that. When I dropped her off at the party around 11:30, she seemed just fine. Tired as she had been all day but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She texted me to meet her downstairs at 12:45, which was a bit earlier than she told me to come back. She came down and she seemed frazzled and upset. She had me drive around the city for 20 minutes before she told me to head home. She kept looking out the back window like someone was following her but she wouldn’t say what the issue was.” 

“Was someone following you?” 

“No, not that I could tell.” 

“Was she hurt?” 

“This is purely speculation, sir. But she did sound like she was in pain when she got in and out of the car. I asked if she needed help or was alright and she told me she was fine. I wish I knew more.” 

“No, no. That’s plenty. What time does she have to be at the theater tomorrow night?” 

“Around 3, sir. Curtains open at 7:30 and then she said the after party is nearby at midnight.”  

“Good. I’ll send you the details but plan to pick me up sometime tomorrow afternoon after you drop her off. I’m getting on the first flight I can back to New York.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“And Rob, don’t mention this to her. If anything happens tomorrow when you pick her up, let me know.”

“Yes sir.” 

Michael sighed and thudded his head back onto his headboard. He turned over the last couple weeks in his head and realized that tonight or her nightmare were not the first instance of odd behavior. The recent increase in her nightmares, the lack of sleep, the overall jumpiness she seemed to have. Something was going on, something more than just nervousness about performing. And whatever it was, it ended tomorrow. He would make sure of it.

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh

***

A/N: Now… before everyone gets mad at me lol, I just want to assure everyone that this is a love story! Happy endings are coming lol we just gotta get through some muck first. Also what do you think of Charlie's decision to keep this all secret from Michael? Definitely is weighing on her heavily. How do you think that'll affect their relationship long-term? Michael is on his way back to his girl (I love how he immediately knew something wasn't right) andddd how do y'all think he's gonna react to what he sees?

Thanks for reading! Drop a comment and let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged!

[funnyshapedpuddles]

The Sides as dumb shit my group and I have said

These always make me laugh so I'm making my own for funsies.

Here's the (sanders) sides as dumb shit I or my GC has said.

Virgil: *deleted a message*

Logan: what did he say

Remus: that you smell like a rat's ass

Logan: *leaves the group*

Patton: how you kiddos doing :)

Virgil: jumping off of buildings and such. The usual.

Patton: omg

(That one was with my mom 👍)

Roman: we have such great ideas

Virgil: too bad we don't have enough motivation to put them into action

Roman: next thing you know the government has stolen our ideas and distributed them among the major entertainment companies so no one will believe us when we say the amazing ideas originated from OUR minds and we'll get kicked out and have to live on the streets as rats.

Roman: well you will. I'll be living as royalty once I've weaseled my way into working for Disney.

Virgil:

Virgil: are you good?

Logan: let me show you something cool really quick.

Logan: it's called a ✨comma✨.

Logan: placed between two words to seperate them as individuals when listing off multiple options.

Roman: womp womp

Logan: use the comma, love the comma, be the comma.

Patton: if you go to sleep right now, you'll probably wake up with a hundred messages from me :)

Logan: I'm sure I will. But also why?

Any: I consume too much dairy for being lactose intolerant

Virgil: I consume too much attention for having social anxiety

Virgil: istg atp I run off of MCR, water, and memes.

Patton: *loud laughter for a straight 5 minutes*

Patton: sorry I just needed to laugh

Virgil: that's fine. I wasn't about to call the mental health services or anything.

Remus: someone told me to go die

Janus: you have my permission to use your christmas present early. It's a machete.

Remus: YAY!

Remus: I wonder if dove soap bars have the same texture as dove chocolate.

Roman, joking: why don't you go figure it out

*a few minutes later*

Remus: it doesn't.

Remus: doesn't taste all that good either.

Thomas: my intrusive thoughts just told me to touch the hot pan.

Thomas: can you guess what I just did?

Logan:

Thomas:

Logan: did you touch the hot pan?

Thomas: I touched the hot pan. It hurt.

*the sides finishing a serious discussion*

Patton: for real

Patton: anyways

Patton: KARMA IS THE GUY ON THE CHEIFS, COMING STRAIGHT HOME TO MEEEEEE

Remus: hrrgh soap

Logan: what.

Remus: I shouldn't have eaten the soap.

Logan: what.

Remus: I'm going to kill Santy Claus!

Roman: No! I've worked hard to be a good boy this year, I expect presents! Santa can't give me my presents if he's dead! No killing Santa until I get my pony!

Remus: ...okay, jeez...

Logan: You need three things to make a fire. Oxygen, burnable material, and-

Remus: A will to destroy!

Logan: No.

[freakartack]

I remember your older Ask where you explained why it might be a little weird for Waluigi to be in WarioWare, but why do you think Nintendo does absolutely nothing with him? Even Daisy is getting more attention now, and our purple beanpole is gathering ever more dust as he cries himself to sleep. :(

I can think of 2 reasons

The suits at nintendo did not personally create waluigi and so he is kind of a black sheep. He's weaseled his way into spinoffs pretty securely but that in itself is a huge feat - we've all heard by now about how wapeach was smothered in the crib, so I figure waluigi's debut was already pushing it. (For the record, I love waluigi but I'm glad they didn't beat the "wa" concept into the ground - the joke definitely would have gone stale by the time they rolled around to wababy rosalina.)

As far as I remember waluigi is WAY more popular in the states than in japan. I don't know if this still holds true today and it is possible that nintendo is catching onto waluigi's memetic fanbase but i wouldnt be surprised if there was still a disconnect between the acolytes and the purveyors of waluigi.

But i mean, two third-party (ish) rpgs just got remakes which i never thought would happen in a milliard years, so who knows what waluigi's future holds.

This would never happen but here is my pitch/fanfiction for a waluigi game: Double-O Γ, Secret Waagent

Waluigi is minding his own business when suddenly he accidentally gets roped into the MI6 (mushroom intelligence, section 6) and there is a massive conspiracy afoot. However the only other thread tethering this game to the mario series is toadsworth, who is waluigi's boss and assigns him missions (but he doesn't know that is waluigi because he is in disguise). However on his first spy mission waluigi accidentally strikes a deal with the enemy (NOT the koopas, it would be an original set of characters that never appear in another game and that spawn a bazillion gamefaqs threads called "when will they add the waluigi villains to mario tennis" and "i hate the waluigi villains"). Now waluigi is a DOUBLE agent and the objective of the game is to go back and forth between both sides and not get caught as a traitor. Unfortunately no matter what you do at the end of the game the jig is up and waluigi's identity is revealed to both sides, causing them to declare a temporary truce so they can unite and kick him out. This is the final boss. After this they will realize that they hate waluigi way more than they hate each other and peace will be restored solely due to waluigi's incompetence.

i don't know why birdo is there i think she just wanted to dress up. The end

[strangelittlestories]

There was a great palaver in the town of Leamington Spa when it was discovered that the mysterious Mr Meles would take over the empty Familiaris estate.

Mr Meles was a figure of great speculation amongst society. Only three things were known about him (four if you count ‘being an enigma’ as a known quantity and do not mind the sophists getting angry with you): 

Firstly, he was in the possession of an income of over £10,000 a year. Secondly, he was a bachelor and extraordinarily eligible. Thirdly, he had a very handsome badger stripe.

(By which I mean, of course, that he was a badger and that the stripe on his forehead was very fine.)

The Sheppertons - a local family of weasels - discussed Mr Meles’ arrival over breakfast.

“If you ask me, the arrival of such a *character* is sure to bring nothing but acrimony.” Said Mrs Muriel Shepperton, as she truly ravaged a plate of kippers between her fangs. “You mark my words, children, only two kinds of people attempt to cultivate an air of mystery: those with terrible secrets the likes of which would shake polite company to the very core and leave us questioning the very values that shaped us, or worse, the terminally dull.”

“Oh, I do so hope Mr Meles won’t be dull.” Said Mr Edward Shepperton, who was already somewhat in love with the idea of Mr Meles and increasingly determined that one of his daughters should marry him. “Let him have something dreadful to hide instead. It will certainly enliven the season to have everything I’ve ever known thrown into question!”

“I’ve heard,” said Miss Angelica Shepperton, who could chase down a rumour with only a whiff of its scent across two miles of uncertain terrain, “That Mr Meles has only recently come to live above ground at all, and that he has been a member of the Excavationists who believe we should all go back to living in holes underground.”

“Oh my!” Replied Mr Shepperton in some alarm. “I heard they had a plan to collapse the entirety of Buckingham Palace into a sinkhole!”

“Well I, for one, simply cannot believe that a dangerous radical of that sort could ever come to live in our town.” Replied Miss Vermillion Shepperton. “Indeed, until proven otherwise, I shall choose to believe Mr Meles to be a true gentleman of utmost honour. I refuse to countenance that he could be a member of that … sett.”

But despite her clever pun, Miss Vermillion would soon find out just how wrong she was about the safety and genteel nature of Leamington Spa…

---

Thank you for reading, if you would like to support my writing you can do so at https://ko-fi.com/strangelittlestories