#I’ll blame it on sleep deprivation I think

[muffinsin]

Hey Muffin! Ive had an idea for a while. Some CassxDonna goodness request ig, i dont fucking know how to request shit

I also have like this vison in my head of Donna working on a doll or some other commission. Like super stressed out cuz its not going just how she wants it*Perfectionist Donna ofc* And rambunctious Angie is being chased by Cassie, tryin to have her steer clear of Donna when she is working you know? But somehow Angie gets in and ofc breaks something *that Donna had just finished* Angie just giggles and runs out will Cass is like 0_0. Leaving Cass with a very very angry and rather pent up Donna who has been working countless hours, no sleep, and ofc that means no hot sex with her lover. SO how would Donna react to this? Lets say Cass has on one of the dresses donna hand made for her, maybe one of Donna's favorites.

I'd love to see ur HC's on this

-Flyin Rizz

This is interesting!👀 and would you look at that! Some Cassandra x Donna content! XD (No smut in this but some suggestive phrases here and there)

Let’s get into it!🙌

Masterlists

It’s not uncommon for Donna to get very invested in her work. She crafts things on a daily basis, whether this is dolls, clothing, accessories, or toys

Everyone at the beneviento manor knows of her tendency to get really into her work, abandoning her regular sleeping schedule, most mealtimes and just about anything outside of her work until her piece of finished

In this case, a doll. A beautiful one, dressed in a light blue summer dress, according to the blueprints and sketches the dollmaker has messily drawn

Agatha, if Cassandra remembers correctly, a future play-partner for keeping Angie entertained

She, like all the dolls residing at Donna’s manor, is very much aware of how meticulous Donna works

And how badly she wants this doll in particular to be perfect

She brings her food and tea occasionally when she worries her lover gets too into her work, her posture straightening when Donna, even in her focused state, scolds her for the blood coating her and daring to slip down and mess the beautiful dress she is put in

While wearing her signature black dress at the castle and on hunts, her attire is quite different when visiting her girlfriend at her manor

The dress is to be discarded and replaced nearly immediately whenever she visits, instead replaced with one of the many Donna likes to craft for her

Whether light pink, lilac, yellow, red or white, they all share an older, more elegant aesthetic, so that Cassandra often feels as if dressed similarly, if not nearly the same way as most of the dolls sitting tight and proper for Donna

Not that this is entirely inaccurate in her case, in most scenarios

While Cassandra has learned not to disturb her girlfriend in such times, lest she wants to face dire consequences, Angie’s mindset is a little different

Fuelled by her excitement and anticipation of getting a new friend to play with, and her boredom stemming from Donna’s lack of attention during the many hours of the day she sits locked in the workshop, she likes to stir trouble

Trouble, which often consists of multiple things

1), to steal one of Cassandra’s weapons and force her to chase her about. Once or twice she has fallen for it and followed the mischievous doll outside, only to receive proper punishment after getting her dress muddy in the process

2), making a mess of the house and playing god while she watches other dolls clean it up again. She especially enjoys putting some of the blame on the Dimitrescu and watching her clean her mess off the counters, a sour grimace on her face

And lastly, a good old chase around the house, which usually, sadly, comes with many broken decorative plates, vases, flowerpots, paintings off the walls, and carpets curling in on themselves

Normally, Donna is capable of handling this. And normally, Cassandra couldn’t care less

However, with her girlfriend on edge after more than a week of intense working and perfecting her craft, restlessness and no true stress reliever, she knows it’s best not to test her

Naturally, Angie thinks differently

And as such Cassandra finds herself chasing after the little doll, frantically trying to keep the vases from tipping over and the paintings from falling from the walls

She chases her through the kitchen and dodges the many, tiny handfuls of flour thrown her way, yet when she reaches out to grab Angie, the doll only blows some of the flour in her face

And as such their chase continues

Down the halls, through the office where Cassandra throws herself against a wobbling shelf to keep it from falling

She knows, she would pay bitterly if Donna had to reorganise and put all the books and files back in

Yet, golden eyes widen when Angie nears the workshop. With a mischievous smile nonetheless

She slips through the small gap at the office, and Cassandra has no choice but to follow, swarming fast through the small tunnel and manifesting again at the other side. She barely still catches Angie’s veil as she rounds the corner

More and more, she catches up with each second

Then, she freezes when both of them stop dead in their tracks in front of the large, wooden doors leading into the workshop

“Angie!”, she hisses quietly, her hands fisting at the embarrassingly sweet dress she is put in

She doesn’t quite notice the state it’s in after her swarming through the dirty gap at the office, yet is soon about to find out about it

With wide, horrified eyes, she watches the door open just a crack for Angie to slip inside

Naturally, she follows

Her posture automatically straightens when she sees Donna across the room, her back turned to her and her fingers working meticulously on what seems to be the sketch of a dress

Cassandra gulps and hurries to the other side of the room when she sees Angie stand next to one of the dolls sitting on the shelf

It hasn’t get been brought to life, yet Cassandra knows it took her lover days to craft and paint it

As expected, it’s given a small push, and the brunette throws herself forwards to catch it. She sighs, her eyes closing for a mere moment when she manages to grasp the precious doll just before it hit the floor

Then, she flinches at the sound of broken porcelain. The torso, one of the few parts of the doll Donna has- after days- finished

Before she can act or even consider her next moves, the mischievous doll slips away behind the other dolls and Cassandra feels strong, thick vines shoot out from the plant pots next to her and tangle around her wrists, seemingly automatically

She hisses when her lower face is grabbed, then gasps upon realising her girlfriend stands in front of her, her free hand twitching in anger, her dark eye set on Cassandra

“I didn’t do it! It was A-AgnmMm!”

She can only whine and whimper pitifully when a slip of paper, the one containing scribblings of the dress, is crumpled and shoved in her mouth to gag her

Wide, dark golden eyes look up at a dark, nearly black one, as though begging for forgiveness. As though to protest: she didn’t do it!

Yet, there is one found. Donna is painfully riled up, and this seems to have simply pushed her over the edge

Cassandra’s shriek is muffled as dark, auburn hair is grabbed and used to yank her head to face Donna. She watches when the broken torso is raised to her face and whines in discomfort when its sharp edge is dragged alongside her cheek

For a moment, the dollmaker doesn’t talk. Her dark eye bores into Cassandra, her face sporting an angry frown

She whimpers when blood begins to drip from the cut and runs down her pale cheek. Before it can drip to the dirtied collar of her dress, however, it is caught with a fingertip

“Have you got any idea how long it took to craft this, doll?”

Her head spins at the low, raspy voice of her lover

All she can do is shake her head. With Angie gone and having left her in this compromising position, and the paper in her mouth keeping her shut up efficiently, she can only listen and whimper occasionally

Donna’s jaw clenches, and Cassandra jumps in surprise when the porcelain is dropped again

The vines around her wrists ease their hold, yet the one on her hair only tightens. She groans lowly when a skilled, pale hand wraps around her throat and strong, careful fingers dig into her neck

Perhaps, she shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. Yet, she can’t help it

She can’t help but melt into the touch, to push herself against the hand around her throat and to look through thick eyelashes to meet Donna’s dark eye with her golden ones

Then, she shrieks when the fingers suddenly yank her hair, tugging and yanking as though it was a leash making her follow like an obedient mutt

Naturally, Cassandra immediately attempts to protest and talk about the small doll when she is tugged along, across to the workbench and pushed hard against it

Of course, Donna has nothing of it

“You’re a brat today, doll... If you will not admit to your guilt, you will not talk at all”, she hisses

Her hair is released, and her eyes still follow every move of her lover’s skilled hands. Petite as they may look, she knows of the strength they possess, and the power they wield

Cassandra’s eyes widen in realisation when she finds her lover taking in her appearance

Her dress, so lovingly created, filthy of blood from her hunt and the dirt from the gap. Her face, partly covered in a fine layer of flour and blood, only adds to her messy state

She gulps when Donna’s hands grasp her collar tightly as it is cleaned. She is manoeuvred rather roughly, until some of the dirt is brushed off again at least

Her wrists are grabbed next, tightly and in a nearly bruising grip. Cassandra, was it not for the paper in her mouth, would grin widely at this

Ah, she loves the beautiful marks her lover leaves on her on a regular basis

“You’re filthy, doll”, Donna hisses, her low voice pulling Cassandra from her thoughts. “Must you always make a damn mess!”, she adds through gritted teeth

The Dimitrescu resists the urge to moan when her arms are tied by ribbons and yanked upwards

She is not treated sweetly or gently, and her body betrays her excitement regarding this

She knows, Donna too notices her rock hard nipples and quivering thighs

And she knows, having spent so much time among the plants at the manor, that her girlfriend is very well aware of the naughty thoughts and feelings she causes her to experience

Alas, it seems the dollmaker doesn’t yet grant her any of this special, painful kind of pleasure. Cassandra could whine in irritation at this

She watches her girlfriend move the tied hands to the hooks meant to hold and lift dolls, then gulps when a hand is held in front of her stretched mouth

Her arms are tied securely and held above her head, and with her legs spread slightly to allow her to sit comfortably with Donna’s body between her knees, she has almost difficulty adjusting to feeling this exposed

Not that it’s new, really

The underside of her chin is tapped impatiently, before Donna holds out her palm again

“Out with it. But I better not hear a thing from you, doll. You’ll start earning your right to talk back by helping me.”, she clarifies

Submitting to the obvious command, Cassandra’s lips spread apart wider and she allows the wet, crumpled paper to fall back out of her mouth

She stays silent, as commanded. She truly tries to

For a mere moment, that is, until she spots the mischievous doll that seems to take immense pleasure from getting her in trouble

“There! It’s he-MGM! Mhmm!”, Cassandra’s eyes are wide when a hand is clasped over her mouth, golden orbs flickering to Angie’s mocking face on the shelf behind Donna

Another hand shoots to her throat, and all she can do is whimper breathlessly when warm breath hits her skin and soft lips move across her jawline

“Did I not say, not. a. word?”, she hisses, each word delivered with a squeeze of Cassandra’s throat

The woman moans shamelessly at this, her eyes pressing shut and her thighs pushing together

With a proper squeeze of her neck, she whines. She feels lightheaded for a mere moment

Then, she whimpers when her lover leans in, her lips and teeth ghosting over her neck, all the way up to her ear

“What was that, doll? Must I put you in your place again?”

She shakes her head quickly, as though overly aware of the beautiful, carefully placed mark of the beneviento symbol carved into her back

The mere feel and thought of it has her attempt to subtly rub her thighs together

She wonders; if only she acts out enough, will Donna renew it for her?

“That’s what I thought, principessa”, the older woman husks out, and again she feels as though her head is spinning from her words

She shivers when the dress is peeled off her, Donna’s hands careful and precise in their movements

“If you’re so keen on sabotaging my work and setting me back-“, Cassandra attempts to protest at this, blame the doll, but at another squeeze of her throat, all her words die on her tongue and only a throaty groan slips out

Donna’s expression turns almost sour at her repeated misbehavior, before she closes her eye for a moment

Upon opening it again, she smiles

“You will be of good use to me, doll”, she whispers

Cassandra tries her best to stay quiet as the woman moves from her, golden eyes following her strong, veiny hands and slender fingers as they shimmer over her workspace

Scattered on the table are scissors, ribbons, wood and porcelain dolls, knives and sewing needles, and much more Cassandra can’t quite catch a glimpse of

She tenses when she hears a breathy chuckle from Donna. The woman’s back is turned to her as she organises her desk, yet Cassandra hears the smile in her voice as she talks lowly

“Seeing as you are so keen on setting me back, you will make up for the lost progress”

For a moment, she doesn’t understand

How can she make up for it? Cassandra doesn’t know how to sew, or craft dolls. Nor is she about to learn it

When Donna holds up her sketches however, realisation dawns on her

She practically sees the gears moving in her girlfriend’s head, her mind coming up with a punishment fit for “her” crime

She knows, her girlfriend is already calculating the amount of fabric and time she will need to craft the light blue dress in Cassandra’s size, rather than the doll Agatha’s

Yet, when her lips part to protest and blame Angie yet again, she feels a hand slap over her mouth again

She jumps at this, not ever used to her girlfriend simply turning and moving in the span of seconds

Donna hums as she regards the tied and bratty woman in front of her

“Whatever will I do to you?”, she hums, a smirk curling on her lips that makes the brunette Dimitrescu’s thighs push together and has goosebumps overtake her pale skin

“Hey! Fly face! Here!”

Cassandra groans, a bright pink blush on her face as she pours some more tea into the doll’s cup

Really, she wouldn’t do such a thing, participate in such a tea party with the doll, if it wasn’t for the tight collar hugging throat and Donna’s watchful eye on her

Both serve as a reminder to do well, she knows

The dress she’s put in is tight, yet elegant and fits her well

She’s careful not to dirty it with every move, and can’t help but bite her lip to hide a grin whenever she is praised for just that

Longingly, she stares at the doll, Agatha, laying unfinished on her girlfriend’s table

How much longer will she need to endure such humiliation of being Angie’s “doll” friend? Dressed up sweetly and made to serve tea and biscuits to the doll and Donna herself, all for something she didn’t commit in the first place!

Yet, the doll, Agatha, is hardly finished. Not even nearly done, even

It seems, Donna is taking her sweet time finishing her

[thezombieprostitute]

Imagine this:

accountant!reader x IT tech!Jensen x manager!Andy x CEO!Lloyd

The intent was to write something short and sweet but smutty. The result is approximately 2200 words with a ton of smut! I blame Lloyd.

Warnings: Power dynamics; Creepy boss; Smut, smut, SMUT! Minors DNI!!!!

“Thank you, Jake,” you half whisper, half moan into his ear. “I really needed this.” You’re not normally one for hookups in the supply closets but you’d had such a stressful day you really needed to let off some steam. Thankfully Jake was always happy to help you out. And he was very good at helping you feel good. 

The two of you had a friends-with-benefits situation that had been carefully negotiated and navigated. Sometimes you got the sense that Jake wanted more and that’s why he was so eager to please. But you were both quick to talk if either of you felt things were getting too serious. It definitely made office parties a lot more fun. Everyone else was enjoying the cheap food and you and Jake got to go to a private office and actually take your time together.

You both do try to be careful at the office but your manager, Andy, has been really ramping up the sad sack shtick with all the women in your department, desperate for a date or some feminine attention and pity. You could only take so much, especially when your coworkers pointed out to him that you’re single. Traitors. 

Every day he would ask you about your plans. You tried being polite and got nowhere. You finally told him, directly, that you weren’t interested in him last Friday. Today you were called into a meeting with HR about “appropriate workplace behavior”. They told you they’d received complaints from your manager about flirting with him despite him telling you “no”. You smiled tightly and nodded, staying quiet and signing the documents saying you’d been talked to. 

You texted Jake on your phone to meet you in the hall closet. One of the things you appreciated? He didn’t ask questions, he just showed up and gave you what you needed. He really seemed to like it when you would repeatedly whisper “thank you’s” into his ear. It’s only a quickie but it definitely helps. You kiss Jake’s cheek and thank him as he blushes. You leave at different times and head back to your respective desks.

 You check your email and find yourself looking at an appointment with Lloyd Hansen, the company’s CEO. Thinking it must’ve been in error you hit the “Decline” button and add the most polite note that you can think of. Just a few minutes after you get yet another appointment notice with Mr. Hansen. No explanatory note. You’re extra grateful to Jake because your brain immediately jumps to Andy complaining about you to Mr. Hansen because your HR visit wasn’t enough of a punishment. 

The appointment is for tomorrow so you silently stew for the rest of the workday. At home you treat yourself to your favorite meal and shows. Your sleep is full of stressful dreams and you wake up more exhausted than when you went to bed. Not wanting to look like a mess in front of Mr. Hansen, you make sure to take extra care of your makeup and clothing choices. Working as hard as your caffeine deprived can to balance “I’m okay” with “I’m not trying to flirt with anyone”. It’s never an easy task.

As you log on to your computer you smell Andy’s cologne and internally wince. You turn to face him, “yes, Mr. Barber?”

“Easy there, tiger,” he chastised. “I just want to make sure that you’re doing okay after that HR meeting.”

Gritting your teeth you reply, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well I know a lot of people can have a kind of whiplash when they realize their behavior isn’t acceptable,” he explains in an obviously condescending tone. “I’ll understand if you want to take some vacation time.”

“Mr. Barber,” you seethe, “I think what would help me the most is keeping some distance between us at all times in the office.”

“Okay,” he scoffs. “Just remember who it is that HR listens to.” He walks away and you find yourself trying to not throw or break something. 

As soon as you can you head straight to Mr. Hansen’s office. His secretary lets you in, though he is not yet in. You should probably be upset that he’s late for the meeting he insisted on having with you but it’s better than sitting in your cubicle waiting for Andy to strike. 

The quiet is broken by Mr. Hansen storming into the office, yelling at someone on the phone. You recognize him immediately if only because of the mustache. “And I told you to handle it, Six! Get your head out of your ass and fix it!” He lets out a small huff as he listens to the person on the phone. “I don’t give a shit. It should’ve been handled weeks ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting.” He hangs up without waiting for a response and turns to you with a smile that makes you feel like prey caught in a trap.

“So you’re the girl Barber was complaining out,” he starts. You’re unable to hold back your grimace and he laughs. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I don’t give a shit about that cuck.” You tilt your head in confusion. “See, he tried to play up the whole “women don’t know how to take a compliment” thing but I was able to see through him. He’s pathetic and you weren’t having it. Even flat out told him, “no”. That’s something I respect. Not everyone would do that to their boss.”

He sits down in his chair and continues, “so I started looking into you and imagine my surprise when I find out you and Jensen are hooking up!” Your eyes widen in shock and you start stammering before he holds out a hand, gesturing for you to stop. “You’re not in trouble for that. Hell if I could get laid instead of attending those lame work parties I absolutely would. Which is why I brought you here.” 

He leans his elbows on the desk, “I want in on whatever fuck-buddy deal you and Jensen got going on.”

“S..sir, I,” you’re at a loss for words. 

“Tell you what,” he slaps the desk and stands up, “I’ll make it easy for you. Either you agree to be my own fuck-buddy, occasionally still get some good stuff from Jensen, or I’ll make you Barber’s personal secretary.”

“What if I quit instead?”

“Then I’ll go ahead and fire Jensen,” he quips. “It would be a damn shame, though. Jakey is one of the best IT guys we got. Likely up for a promotion that would get him a private office.”

“Can I talk to Jake first,” you plead. “It is part of our arrangement that we communicate changes before they’re implemented.”

“You know what, sure. I can respect that a deal is a deal.” He goes to the phone on his desk and tells his secretary to send Jake up.

When Jake does arrive he’s shocked to see you. At Lloyd’s gesture he closes the door behind him. Lloyd doesn’t let you speak and lays everything out for him like he did you. 

Jake looks at you, “it’s…umm…I appreciate you looking out for me and my job,” he starts. “But it’s also your body and I would never want you to accept something like this just for me.”

“You know, Jakey here has a point,” Lloyd interjects. “You really don’t know what you’re in for with me. How about a demonstration? I’ll even let Jake join in to help keep you comfortable.”

Knowing that you were being watched shouldn’t excite you so much. The fact that both of these men wanted you was making you wet. You straddle Jake in his chair and start making out with him while taking off your clothes and grinding your hips against his crotch. 

Jake moans as he takes off your bra with practiced ease, “you’re sure about this?” 

“Feel how wet I am, Jake.” He obliges and sticks his fingers inside your panties. He rubs your clit and you arch your breasts into his face as his eyes widen at the wetness he finds there. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. He gets a dark glint in his eye that you don’t entirely recognize. He removes his hand and starts to unbutton your pants. “You gotta taste her, Mr. Hansen. Sweetest pussy and it’s already drenched.”

You hadn’t realized Lloyd was standing behind you until he grabbed your breasts, lifting you a little as he nibbled your neck. He pulls you off of Jake and the two of them finish undressing you before setting you on Lloyd’s desk. You’re on your back, your head hanging over one side, your legs spread wide for the both of them. 

Lloyd doesn’t hesitate and dives tongue first into your pussy. Your reaction is immediate as he uses his mustache to tickle your clit. You throw your head back and moan before you’re able to stifle it. 

He pulls away from you, “don’t worry about noise, sweetheart. My secretary is gone for the afternoon and no one else would dare be on this floor.” He turns to Jake, “you were right! This is a damn tasty snack.” He gets back to it and you don’t hold back your sounds. It was such a relief to get to be as loud as you wanted. 

“Fuck, I love those sounds,” Jake groans.

You reach out to him, “your cock, Jake? Please, can I stroke your cock?”

“Love those sounds, too,” he grins as he undoes his belt. You look to Lloyd to see if he has any objections but he’s too focused on licking up all of your juices. Jake is already half hard and your hands know just how to get him fully erect. His hands start playing with your tits, gently pinching, pulling and fondling. 

The two of them quickly bring you to the brink of orgasm, then Lloyd sticks two of his fingers inside you and it pushes you over the edge. You cum loudly and Lloyd keeps scissoring his fingers while sucking on your clit, enjoying the show. When the aftershocks fade, he removes his hand and backs away just a little.

“Jensen, you take her mouth,” he orders. “I’m gonna make a mess of this pussy and I want to hear her choking on your cock while I do.”

You let go of Jake’s erection and he starts pushing himself into your mouth, grunting and moaning as he does so. He’s careful with you, like always, and places your hand on his thigh so you can signal if it gets too much.

Lloyd, however, lines himself up with your opening and quickly thrusts himself fully inside. If your mouth wasn’t so full of Jake’s cock, you’d likely have screamed. They fucked both of your holes with abandon and you were loving every second of it. Occasionally Jake would ask for a status and you’d tap his thigh twice for “all good”. 

“Not gonna last much longer,” Lloyd admitted. “This pussy is so fucking tight. I see why you risked your job for her.” He started rubbing your clit and you careened towards another orgasm. As soon as Jake came in your mouth you were done for. You tightened your legs around Lloyd as you came hard and swallowed all of Jake’s spend. You heard Lloyd mumbling, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” before he came with a yell. 

You’re still in a daze as both men pull out of you. Lloyd whistles, “now that’s a pretty picture. What say we get you cleaned up?”

“What the fuck?!” A voice from the office door crashes your post-orgasm euphoria. You look up and see Andy, standing in the doorway.

“Ah, Barber,” Lloyd says as he zips his pants back up. “Right on time.”

“What?!” Jake exclaims as you look, wide-eyed, at Lloyd. 

“You see, Andy,” he walks over to your manager and claps him on the shoulder. “You’re a complete cuck and we both know it.” Andy tries to protest but Lloyd cuts him off. “This is the closest you’re ever going to get to some pussy. Now be a good boy and clean up the mess I made.” He throws Andy to his knees in front of your spread pussy. 

Andy groans at the sight and you feel a stir of courage. “Well,” you scold. “Are you going to be a good boy and do as you're told or am I going to have to clean myself up?” His eyes darken but you don’t back down. He dives into your cum filled pussy and starts cleaning you up.

“Good boy,” Lloyd smirks. “Probably the only way you can actually please a woman.” He looks at Jake, “whenever you’re done with her, call her cuck over to clean up. Sound good?”

Jake looks to you and sees you writhing with pleasure, “I think so.”

Part 1.5

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

[calypsocolada]

SHAMELESSLY | f. dostoevsky

(final part in the series! click here for part one)

synopsis: after a demon escapes your grasp you hunt it back down. authors note: hiiiiiiiiii!!!!! thank u all so much for your nice words and such :3. this is the final part in this series so I hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! cw: blood, gore, violence, suggestive, FLUFF, cussing, lil angst, fyodor is and always will be OBSESSED wit u ;) wc: 5.4k

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

You’ve never worn a corset before and in this exact moment you knew why. You felt Yosano tighten the strings until you could feel the beating of your own heart. 

“I think that’s too tight.” You choked out as Yosano giggled behind you.

“No pain no gain, sweetheart.” She said, tightening it just a bit more. 

“I don’t understand why I need this,” You breathed out in exasperation. “It restricts my movements.”

“Stop complaining, after all it’s your fault the demon escaped.” Yosano teases as you let your eyes fall closed.

It was your fault, you let him trick you, let him touch you and steal the keys and now he’s gone. He’d been sending you things, flowers, chocolates, and whatever else all to taunt you. You feel Yosano grip your shoulders softly. “I was joking. He would’ve escaped one way or another, now you just gotta bring him back.” Easier said than done. You flopped down in a chair. Yosano fluffed up your hair and turned the chair around, tilting your head up by the chin. “Are you worried about seeing him again?” She asks. You remember his eyes, midnight plum, in the dark. His hand on your cheek, wiping blood from your face. He tricked you good. All of it was an act, to muddle your senses and leave you defenseless. It boiled you from the inside, left you angry and wanting. The anger was so palpable that it fueled your fire for the past two months since he broke out.

“No.” You answer truthfully, you couldn’t help the bitterness in your voice. Yosano tilted her head slightly.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were. That demon is something to be feared.” 

“He’s something to be caught. Like a rat.” You quip as a grin breaks out on Yosano’s face. 

“Glad you think that way.” She remarks, pushing back to her feet, dusting off her skirt. “As you know our intel’s iffy,” Yosano starts. You’d been chasing dead ends for quite some time now. You joined back up with the agency out of guilt and disappointed your parents. They were of course upset that you lied about it for a while but you promised the moment you caught the bastard you’d be back home. “Sources say he’ll be at this masquerade tonight so you need to be on guard and be wary of using your powers since he knows about them.” You already thought of that. Fyodor is highly intelligent and you’re sure that if you finally found him there’s a reason that only he devised. So impossibly you had to be more cunning. You pushed to your feet, leaning to look in the mirror. Yosano did you up, you almost didn’t recognize yourself without the sleep deprived bags under your eyes. You looked fresh even though you haven't been sleeping much. You straightened.

“Good work, I look human again.” You remarked as Yosano snorted. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now you better get going. Oh, and Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t play hero, if you see him, stall him and wait for us.” Yosano advised, her voice deadly serious. You nodded your head but the only person that was going to slam the cell door in Fyodor’s face was going to be you. 

The masquerade was extravagant. That’s really the only word you could use to describe it. You never went to dances when you were younger, you always thought you were too cool for them but in reality you wished you went. Though you were sure a high school couldn’t put on something this enchanting...

As you walked in the large stone doors into the venue your breath stuttered in your chest. It looked like a story book come to life. Every single soul was dressed to the nines, intricate gowns with matching masks, velvet suits and cuffs. Not to mention the entire venue, large ceilings with stained glass windows, long vines hanging from tall statues of sculpted men and women with little to cover the intimate parts. There were hundreds of people lining the hall, some dancing and some laughing, drinking from fancy looking goblets, eating even fancier looking desserts. You swept down the stairs, pulling the mask over your eyes as you scanned every face you walked by. 

“I feel as though I walked into a different time.” You say softly, hearing a familiar crackle in your earpiece. 

“Yes, someone really outdid themselves.” Dazai answers. You maneuver your way through the party goers, swiping a drink and tipping the glass to your lips. It’s sweet at first but strong when it slides into your stomach. You set down the empty glass and grab another. “Go easy there, alchy.” You hear Dazai admonish and you can’t help but roll your eyes. You walked not one but two laps around the room and you were fast approaching to losing hope, that the iffy intel was just that, iffy. 

“He’s not here.” You say, hiding your lips behind the glass. You hear Dazai lean back in his creaky chair, probably putting his feet up on his desk. 

“Take one more lap around.” He directs and you do. You check every pair of eyes, searching for those midnight plum eyes, searching for the coal black hair and the cruel smile. But he’s nowhere to be seen and you feel like a fool.

Another dead end.

You grabbed one last glass before heading towards the door only stopping when someone slid into your path. 

“Leaving so soon?” Your attention snaps up to his face but the eyes are light blue. You don’t recognize this person but something in you stands at edge when he cocks his head to the side. “You look very pretty. Too pretty to not be snatched up to dance.” He offers his hand to you, his voice is familiar. Something in you twists and before you can say no your earpiece crackles again.

“Say yes.” Dazai asserts and you curse inwardly that you can’t ask why. You take in a sharp breath and hesitantly meet his hand. You watch his pink lips turn up into a cheshire cat grin as he yanks you, somewhat unkindly, to the dance floor. You weave through the crowd behind him and when he finally finds a place with a bit of room he spins around and pulls you to his chest. You gasp at the suddenness and force down any harsh words you have because maybe Dazai knows something you don't know about this man. A song starts in the distance, something slow and you force yourself to stay in this man's grip. One hand holding your own, the other sliding around your hip resting just above your ass. If he goes any lower you were going to tell him to eat concrete and with your powers he would. Slowly he pulls you into step, soft music caressing your ears. 

“Not much of a dancer?” He asks and you're annoyed that he noticed but you force a cordial smile and tilt your head.

“That noticeable?” You remark and he smirks as though you were complimenting him in his cleverness. 

“Not much, honey, you’re just a bit stiff. Do I make you uncomfortable?” He asks and it takes everything in you not to nod your head.

“No, I just haven’t danced in a while.”

“Why is that?” He inquires.

“Never been much for parties I guess.” You remark and he nods his head, spinning you around a bit too fast, he dips you in his arms and snaps you back up. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“You’re too gorgeous to stay out of the limelight, you should be paraded around like an expensive jewel.” Paraded around? Did this guy think that was really a compliment? “If I had you I’d show you off to anyone that would listen.” He winks and you force a laugh that sounds slightly annoyed to your own ears. 

“Thank you, uh, I guess I never got your name.” You say and the man levels you with a look, his hand around your waist tightens just slightly. Even before he reaches up his hand to tilt up his mask your heart clenches. His voice, his eyes were familiar because you knew deep down who it was. Who it was holding you, paradeing you around the room like an expensive jewel just like he said. Someone who you thought was dead, your nightmares filled with his face. You spent weeks in the hospital because of this man, you quit the agency because of this man. 

Lord Francis.

He pulled you closer to him as he lowered his mask back, you froze like prey entrapped by a predator. 

“Honey, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” You had. He laughs at your stricken expression, the same laugh he gave you before beating you until you didn’t recognize yourself. “I’ve been waiting a long time to see you again.” His hand that's around your waist slides up your back and around until his thumb brushes your cheek. “I didn’t even leave a scratch on you, Pity.” Something bubbles inside but you're too terrified to act on it. What’s the use or your power if your lips are trembling too much to say something. “Oh, and,” His finger taps on your earpiece. “I hope you don’t mind that I jammed your radio there, we needed privacy.” You tremor at his touch, gaining back a bit of your bite. You part your lips to say something but he shushes you. “I wouldn’t. You use your powers here and I’ll just have my men execute everyone here one by one.” He smirks and all the fight in you dies. You stare at him hard. 

“What do you want?” You ask through clenched teeth.

“What do I want?” He echoes and you swallow dryly. He tilts his head. “Don’t tell me you don’t know, it’s obvious you are here for me.”

“I’m not.” You say defiantly and he laughs. You shove him back hard, he bumps into a few other couples dancing, looking at you as though you were some wild animal. He clenches his jaw, fixing his tie. He walks forward and you're reminded of why you held so much fear. You take a step back into someone.

“There you are, my love. I was just coming over to cut in but it seems you two are done dancing.” That voice. Your heart seizes. You turn and there he is. Midnight plum eyes, coal black hair, that cruel smirk. 

“I think we may have one dance left.” Francis hisses and when he takes a step forwards Fyodor moves gracefully right in his way, somewhat protectively, blocking Francis's path to you. 

“I think the lady should decide.” He intones, that accent hitting some part of you. You clench your jaw. Tonight was a night of surprises it seemed. Fyodor’s eyes slide to meet yours. His hair is styled to perfection, a loose strand falling in his eyes, a dark suit that fits him just right. He looked good but even the devil himself couldn’t get that out of you. “So which is it, my love?” A small feeling bloomed in your chest at the name. 

“Fuck you.” You cursed, eyes sharp. Two words you’d been saving just for him. All your waking and unconscious thoughts were about him,  he haunted your every moment. All that and you’d only spoken to him for maybe fifteen minutes before he tricked you. Francis scoffed a laugh and stepped forwards but stopped short. You extended your hand to Fyodor. “Can I have this dance?” You seethed begrudgingly. Between a demon and the actual devil you knew which to hedge your bets with. Fyodor looked smitten as he took your hand and swept you away from Francis. He didn’t drag you like Francis had and when he turned he softly pulled you into his chest, his hand wrapping around your waist and the fear you had with Francis diminished. Something far dangerous grew. 

“Did you get my flowers?” He speaks softly right near your right ear. You tightened your jaw. 

“Yes, I got your taunts.” You say exsaperatedly and Fyodor pulls back so he can look you in the eyes. 

“I wasn’t taunting you, my love, I was flirting.” 

“Writing, ‘come and find me’ on every note is your way of flirting?” You quip and he nods his head, pursing his lips.

“And you did, look at that, I feel so special.” He breaths. You tighten the grip you have on his hand as he moves you in step with the music. 

“I’ve looked everywhere for you.” You scowl and he tilts his head, letting his eyes fall closed as he breathes in. 

“How I’ve longed to hear that.” He says, opening his eyes and spinning you when the music picks up. “Have I told you how utterly striking you look tonight?” He asks when you spin back into him. He lowers his voice. “Because you look so ravishing I can’t hardly think straight.” Goosebumps rise on your skin, your heart doing a traitorous flip in your chest. The look in his eyes tells you he knows what effect he’s having on you so you force yourself to remember the basics. He betrayed you, used you like a fool. You held onto those two thoughts. 

“I should command you to leave here with me.” You growl and the edge of his cruel mouth tilts up. 

“You wouldn’t have to command me, dear, I’d go anywhere you told me to go.” He implores, his eyes soft on yours. You harden your thoughts. No being tricked. 

“Even back to prison?” You ask and he pulls you into him, his lips just by your ear. 

“I’d go to hell and back if you so wished.” You push him away instantly because your body wants him. You like the things he’s saying and it’s all too confusing and maddeding.

“Stop it.” You manage and he looks at you with cat-like eyes. 

“Stop what, my love?”

“Saying things like that.” You hiss and he just smiles at you. 

“You have the physical prowess to stop me yet you don’t. You let me say these things because deep,” He leans back into you, hand enveloping yours as the music picks up. “Deep down you want to hear them. As long as you like to hear them I will speak forevermore.” You hadn’t noticed how close he’d gotten until his lips barely brushed yours, almost like a kiss from the wind. You let out the breath caught in your throat. If you moved even a centimeter your lips would fully meet his. You're not sure how long you two were like this, the space between you practically non-existent, wanting him to be the one to give in. To put you out of your misery with a kiss. But alas, he pulls back, eyes like molten. “When I saw that man’s hands on you I saw red. I wanted to kill him.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask, embarrassed that your voice betrayed you, showcasing just how much this moment was affecting you. Fyodor tilts his head.

“I didn’t think you’d like that…” He guessed, but it sounded more like a question. “Would you like me to kill him?” His eyes devoured your face, you swallowed to keep your lips from forming the word yes. You shook your head because you didn’t trust your voice. Fyodor just gave you back his soft smile, something he only saved for your eyes and your eyes only. “Hmm… yes, I guess that might ruin this party… After all, I planned this just for you.” He says and it’s like a bucket of cold water is thrown over you. He planned this ball. He invited everyone. Even Francis. He was probably working with Francis. He must’ve known Francis would rattle you enough to have you fall into his hands. And boy were you falling, shamelessly. You straightened, gaining back some sense of dignity. He was playing you again. Tricking you. You fell for it every goddamn time. Not this time. 

“I think I’d like to change my mind.” You breathed out, your voice strong. His eyes light up at your words. 

“On what, my love?” 

“I think I do want you to kill him.” You say and watch a small bit of shock settle on his sharp features. He barely sucks in his bottom lip, running his teeth over it. He stops dancing, gently pulling you by the hand towards the back of the party. You follow, glancing behind you to see Francis, his eyes locked on you. You weren’t getting out of here unscathed. Fyodor whisks you into an empty room, leaning against the door to shut it. 

“Oh dear…” He starts. You turn about the room before finding him. You put on your bravest face and cross the room back to him. He stays pressed against the door. You pull him in, you're directing this play now. You were tired of playing the pawn. He looks at you as though you’re about to whisper some riddle to him. As if he knows you so well that this would be some kind of joke. You lean your cheek against his and whisper into the shell of his ear.

“If you want me as badly as you claim, you’ll do it.” You say, finding his hand and tightening your hand on his. You feel him shutter against you. You wanted to call his bluff, to finally have something over him. But he just pulls back and you see resolve on his face, you see a man who was going to do exactly as you ask. 

“How would you like me to do it, my love?” He asks and your left to wonder if he really means it. You both stare at each other for a moment as you try and gauge things. “Would you like me to slit his throat?” He offers in the dim light, the music swells behind the door. You swallow because you feel the control slipping. “Shoot him in the head? Although where's the flair in that?” He laughs softly.

“I don’t care how you do it.” You say and he drags a finger across your cheek.

“I must say, I like this side of you.” He’s smiling that wicked smile and something in you pulls and snaps. Your hands travel up his arms and you watch his eyes dart to watch them. You feel out of control but in it all at once.

“You bring it out of me.” You murmur, leaning your body against his, you feel his heart racing in his chest under your palm and you pause. Was he nervous? No, he was playing you so there was no way this was affecting him.

Slowly you dragged your eyes up to his and the way he was looking at you made you pause again. You remember seeing that look on your dad’s face in the morning as your mom sat breakfast on the table, or when you’d all be out and your mom would watch your dad laughing with that same expression. That was the look of love. Fyodor had no right to pretend to care and you felt vindictive, like he was soiling some precious memory.

You grabbed his tie in your right hand twisting it around your hand, holding it tight. Something flashed in his eyes at your somewhat rough treatment, something dark and alluring. You pulled him down and shocked the both of you by rocking up on the balls of your feet to meet his lips. Rationality had flown right out the window and despite the many warnings and reasons, something had ached inside of you, a craving that had finally been understood. In this madness you decided if you were getting played, if this was all some stupid game or a trick to get you killed then you’d at least take Fyodor’s dignity with you. Fyodor’s slender hands slid around your waist pulling you completely against him, his mouth moving eagerly against yours. The kiss was hot and all consuming and completely fucking mad. Your hands found themselves tangling and messing up his perfect hair, tugging it and causing him to groan against your mouth. He might laugh later and say it meant nothing and you might agree, but you both would be filthy liars. Your stomach burned with yearning, a sick and crazy feeling amongst all the others.

His cruel mouth is surprisingly soft, he kisses you reverently at first, as though giving you time to move away and make better decisions but when you don’t it grows deeper and more desperate. He’s wanted it, you can tell by the way he devours you, the way he holds your hips with one arm and runs his fingers through your hair with the other, resting his hand just below your jaw. When you both pull back to catch your breaths, Fyodor’s thumb tilts your head up so he can look in your eyes. 

“Why do you really want him dead?” He asks through a staggering breath. Something in you twists triumphantly because he sounds put out, like you truly knocked him off balance. 

“For the fun of it.” You coo and he cocks his head at that, shaking his head in an admonishing way. 

“That isn’t like you, dear.” He says.

“Ah, cause you know me so well, Fyodor.” You hear him suck in a breath and before you can even begin to understand why his cheeks pinken in the dim light his hands slide up to either side of your face, his lips crashing against yours. You're stunned as he walks you back towards some kind of desk, the backs of your thighs hitting the hardwood. You realize distantly that you probably never had the control in the first place as his hands slide down to the backs of your thighs and lifts you up and sets you on the desk, his body parting your knees as he stands in between them. Your head is tilted up, hands grabbing at his suit jacket. He trails kisses away from your mouth to your neck and you shiver.

“You have no idea how badly I want to know you.” He mumbles against your neck, his hot breath tickling you. “Every single thought you have, I want to know what you're thinking…” His words are barely understandable as he attacks you with his lips. “I want to know who you are and where you are and-”

“You sound mad.” You say, flustered. He was talking crazy.

“You make me feel so utterly out of control.” He mewls, a bit more coherently. “I’ve never met someone like you.”

“You barely know me.” You quip and he pulls his lips away from your neck.

“I’ll take what I can get.” He speaks so softly and your heart swoons. With his hands still on your cheeks he leans in and for the first time, without desperation or shyness, kisses you kindly. You were done for. This went well past revenge. Him stealing the keys and your reaction to it felt utterly stupid now. Were you obsessed just for the sake of it, just for the sake of him?

“Don’t you.. Don’t you want more?” You asked and he looked at you. “If you were different… we could,” You stopped talking, unsure of where your thoughts were headed. 

“You mean if I were good? Maybe made a difference in the world?” He asks and you find yourself nodding your head. “I didn’t care about making a difference in the world,” He starts. “But since it’s your world I feel as though I could change.”

The door opens and you push Fyodor back forcefully. Francis glides into the room, his cape trailing after him. You're hot and flushed as you slide off the desk, you hadn’t noticed your dress had ridden up on your thighs as it fell back down. Francis looks between you both and laughs a cold laugh. 

“Is this how the agency deals with villains nowadays?” He asks and you straighten. Suddenly your earpiece crackles and you hear Dazai again, it takes everything in you not to jump at how loud it crackled.

“Y/n… Y/n? Clear your throat if you can hear me.” Dazai says and you do as you level Francis with a hard stare, unsure what to say. Was this the moment where they both killed you? 

“It’s impolite to interrupt, you should leave.” Fyodor’s voice is hard and suddenly you're reminded of who he is… How could you’ve forgotten?

“Y/n… Francis’s men have been dealt with, use your powers.” Dazai informs, it takes everything in you not to smile at that. When you first fought you weren’t able to use your voice very well, but things were much different now. 

“You're hogging all her attention, Demon, I think she owes me a dance still.” Francis slides his eyes back to you. “Isn’t that right, honey?” He asks, extending his hand. Before you can even part your lips to speak Fyodor, with surprising slyness, drives a knife directly through Francis’s palm, yanking it out as Francis cusses, stumbling back. When Fyodor raises his arm, poised to kill, you find your voice. 

“Stop.” Your power seeps through his thoughts, halting his actions. “Stand off to the side.” You direct and he does, but you didn’t use your powers, he just listened. Francis holds his bleeding hand, his powers glowing. “You haunted my nightmares for so long,” You start, and he looks at you unafraid because he doesn’t know just how good you were with your powers now. “But I've realized something. You're just a man. A weak one.” His powers flare. “Freeze.” Francis is put in a standstill, his blood dropping to the floor. He stares at you, fear mingling in his eyes, you smile a smile you could only learn from Fyodor. 

“I almost killed you once-- I can do it again.” Francis struggles but your compulsion is too strong. 

“You… what?” You hear Fyodor ask, your eyes slide to his and you're staggered by the hatred in his eyes and in that moment you realize that he didn’t know what happened between you and Francis. 

“Keep your mouth shut.” You direct and he looks at you with a sort of defalted expression.

“Y/n? Is everything under control? If so, we're heading in.” Dazai asks in your earpiece. 

“Uh huh.” You answer, turning back to Francis. “Stuff your sock in your mouth and tie yourself to the chair.” Francis straightens, his eyes pleading you to say stop as he reaches to pull off his shoe. You turn to Fyodor. There’s something in the air.

“My love,”

“Don’t.” You say but it hurts, something in you breaks at the expression on his face. “You slipped out of my reach once, it’s not happening again.” 

“My love, you wound me. Is that how you treat all your enemies?”

“Just you.” You say and watch his hurt expression melt into a soft smile.

“That gives me some solace.” He says, his eyes dragging your entire body, possibly cataloging it. You hear Francis mumbling something but the sock is muffling it. You ignore him because turning away from Fyodor right now seems like betraying yourself. 

“You had to know this would happen.” You attested as you hear some slight bit of panic break out into the ballroom, the music halting. The agency was here. Fyodor leans against the desk, one that he lifted you up on mere minutes ago. He lets his eyes fall closed. 

“Yes… I knew.” He starts, opening his eyes back up, those damned eyes. “I don’t mind. What’s love without a little grief?” He asks and you swallow something down. Why did this feel wrong? He was a villain and you caught him so why do you feel as though you're making the worst decision. Fyodor pushes off the desk and reaches for your hand, you let him take it as he kisses your knuckles. “I hope you’ll come back to me soon, my love.” Before you can even think to answer the door bursts open, Dazai and the other members stroll in. You step pointedly away from Fyodor. Dazai smiles warmly at you, ruffling your hair, after all you did just catch two for one. 

The teapot on the counter starts to whistle. It startles you out of your thoughts as you push away from the counter, grabbing your mug. You pull the kettle from the stove top and pour the hot water over the tea bags, a strong scent wafting upwards, calming your nerves. You rip open a few sugar packets, pouring it in, grabbing the cold spoon, mixing it around. You palm the mug, letting the warmth heat your cold hands. Morning was still slow to approach, the sun not awake yet. You’d dreamt of that masquerade from almost three years ago now and slipped out of bed, seeking a cup of warmth. The steam warmed your lips as you took light sips. You heard the bed creak in the distance, feet padding against the wooden flooring. You turn.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” You ask as Fyodor, hair mussed from sleep, emerges from the dark hallway. He rubs his eyes, shaking his head.

“No, Y/n, can’t sleep?” He asks his hands reaching for you. His chest presses against your back, his hands sliding around your waist as he holds you, head on your shoulder. You turn to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I dreamt of the last time we danced.” You say, feeling a grin grow on Fyodor’s lips. 

“Is that right?” He says. 

“Mhmm.”

“You mean where you kissed me then tossed me in prison?” He jested and you turned, pressing your face into his chest, his sweater soft and warm against your cheek.

“Don’t remind me of that.” You blushed, holding in a laugh. He wraps his arms around your back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“It was very cute, you pretending as though you didn’t love me.”

“I didn’t know.” You groaned, muffled by his sweater. He felt him chuckle warmly, reaching and placing your mug on the counter. You pulled back slightly to look up at him as he reached back and turned on the radio, he turned it for a moment before landing on a song you’d never heard before, a soft guitar strumming through the speakers. ‘Looking out the door I see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners…’ a male voice sang. Fyodor looked down at you. 

“May I have this dance?” He asks and you breathe out a laugh, your cheeks flushing. 

“God... you're sappy.” You coo, but you accept his hand, letting him dance you around the kitchen.

You made a lot of sacrifices to keep him here with you, things had finally settled, nice and quiet. You moved out of the city into a cottage near the outskirts of your parents hometown. They only knew Fyodor for who you introduced him as and not the person you met him as. You missed your friends from the agency but being here you never felt better in the entirety of your life. You never really cared about making a difference in the world, it felt more like a necessity or an obligation, so leaving the agency for the last time only hurt because you were leaving your friends. But they were all capable. Fyodor and Dazai had figured out some sort of pack and you used your powers to erase Fyodor’s life from anyone who knew him. Which honestly was few and far between. Now he really only existed to you and your family. Which was good, you worried you’d have to protect him for the rest of your lives, living in fear that something would finally turn upside down. But going on almost over two years, life had finally been easy going. 

Fyodor dipped you as the song came to an end, slowly he guided you back up, you giggled softly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Ready to go back to bed, love?” You asked and you felt him melt. He liked when you used his nicknames, after all he called you that so many times it just slipped out sometimes. 

“Mhmm.” He hummed and picked you right off your feet, you yelped, laughing hard as he walked you through the dark hallway. He pressed you down against the mattress, caging your body with his. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, smirking against them. “Love, you’re not tired right this second, right?” He whispers against your lips, your body heats at the implication. 

“I think I could stay up for a bit longer if needed.” You jest and he trails kisses down. 

“Much needed.” 

[lakesouperior]

🐻🐤🐰🦊 just some thoughts on the fnaf movie

🐻the attention to detail that was put into it, with all it’s little details and easter eggs. the posters in the background, (and i haven’t seen anyone bring this up), the guy who got face-mauled by the cupcake wearing a midnight motorist t-shirt. the spring lock scene. the fact that scariest of all the jumpscares (of which there weren’t a lot but it’s kind of for the younger demographic ig they can’t make it too bad) was freaking balloon boy. the highest kill count going to MVP Carl the Cupcake. this is what i mean when i say movies from established franchises should be made by fans, for fans.

AND THE MATPAT CAMEO. HIS ACTING ISNT EVEN BAD AND EVEN IF IT WAS I EOULD STILL LOEV ITTT DVDNFB

🐤 you can tell they put a lot of thought into the child actors. abby is phenomenal. the five missing children? properly creepy and sad looking.

🐰 characters were all really well written and entertaining. the karen aunt, for all that she is an antagonist and very much hateable, still manages to be funny. even background characters are hilarious, like Doug for example, and don’t even get me started on the friggin matpat cameo i nearly screamed in the movie theater.

🦊 vanessa and mike are naturally each other’s narrative foils (and stand-ins for respectively Michael Afton/Elizabeth Afton (MichaElizabeth if you will) and Charlotte Emily imo), and them saying the same line, the “that’s two jobs”, mike at the beginning, and vanessa at the end, TO THE SAME CHARACTER?? TO THE BIG FUCKIN BAD HIMSELF??? WHO THEY BOTH HAVE DEEP HISTORY WITH???? literally this is good writing. i’m not saying the movie is perfect because it isn’t, but this is good writing.

🐻 and vanessa, as much as she kind of is, doesn’t feel like a coward because her worst fear does come true. her own father, the person who she thought the world of, tries to kill her as soon as she steps out of line. her fear wasn’t unjustified. she spent her entire life under his control — has literally never known anything else, and to still rebel after so long must’ve been the hardest, most terrifying thing in the world but she still did it because she’d grown to care for mike and abby.

and this is what i mean when i quote that one post: “strong female characters ≠ characters who are female and punch good, but strong female characters = well-written female characters” like yeah, vanessa’s an antagonist, or an anti-hero i suppose, but she’s still, once again, likeable and mysterious and funny. and the “bring her here again and i’ll fucking shoot you”?? that was probably her first act of true rebellion, aside from telling mike more than she should’ve about the pizzeria.

🐤 mikes arc is a very obvious “let go of the past and learn to cherish the present” which isn’t exactly revolutionary, but i think it’s done quite well though it could be improved a bit. and as much as you think he is an absolute cabbage head for telling them they could have abby for even a second, but you still, once again, get it.

our man’s running on like two hours of sleep and also meds, finally getting to see his baby brother up-close and even touch his face for the first time in probably more than a decade of blaming himself, and then getting told he could go back and see his parents again, the grief over who he probably hasn’t been able to process since he had to take care of abby when they died (possibly even took his own life in the father’s case if he’s supposed to be a henry stand-in like i think and doesn’t that just make it fifty times worse)

and it’s set up that he wants that perfect family back, the kind that he had during his childhood, that abby never got to experience.

and maybe he feels guilty for that. maybe he thinks, in his sleep-deprived and grief-ridden mind, for only a moment, that she would be better off, since she seems to like the animatronics and their ghost children better than him and he still feels like he doesn’t know how to raise a kid.

🐰 speaking of abby, for once Child Character in the horror movie isn’t just there to do some stupid shit for Plot Reasons (cough, The Curse of La Llorona, cough cough). i mean yes, she does go with them at the climax, but she has been given no reason not to trust them and considering the fact that they are other children, it would honestly be more suspicious if she didn’t trust them (also we’ve been shown she doesn’t really have friends before the end, so they’re also her first and only friends, no wonder she’s clinging to them) plus she’s been left alone with the aunt she does not like, possibly still believing mike is abandoning her. you get it.

she’s also very entertaining in her sassiness. like “are you here to arrest my brother?” or “yeah, love you too bro, kinda don’t wanna die tho, can we leave?” literally i can’t stand kids in general, but especially so in in horror movies, but i would give my life for abby.

🦊and the drawing thing? it’s beautiful and sad and really hammers home the fact that these monsters, however scary they have been made by their brutal and cruel deaths, they were, and are, just children who didn’t deserve to die and communicate the same way children like abby do. it also makes abby herself relevant to the plot and actually useful.

🐻and about abby; i have my own Theory there. we know she wasn’t in the picture during Garrett’s disappearance, which means she’s at least twelve years younger than mike. it’s actually quite common for couples who are going through a rough patch to have kids to try to fix it, which i think is what happened here, made even more possible if they also had her as a sort of replacement for Garrett. this, as i said earlier, makes mike’s indecision all the more understandable — if abby doesn’t just look a lot like Garrett, but was actually supposed to be him and would’ve never existed if not for the tragedy.

but that’s Just A Theory. 🐻🐤🐰🦊

[magicbystarlight]

Venomous - Part Fourteen

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: A wife. A mother. A witch with someone else's name. That’s the life you didn’t want. So Tom offered you more.

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+, injuries, blood, PTSD, victim blaming, shitty men. Minors DNI.

The Hospital Wing was too loud. You sat up and the stiff movement had you groaning. The curtain shifted. Annette Figgleworm smiled at you. She was an Auror, relatively new considering she’d finished school only the year before. A good friend of Robert Bones. Theseus must have thought a familiar face would be better for you to wake up to.

“Didn’t think you’d be up for a few more hours,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

Grimacing, you shifted your legs over the edge of the bed. Maybe they’d let you return to your dorm.  “Like shit.”

“Sounds about right. Want me to grab Urquart?”

You shook your head. “How’s Dumbledore?”

She hesitated. “Better,” she finally said, taking a seat in the chair by your bed. “Woke up for a bit before they moved him to St. Mungo’s.”

“They moved him?”

“Got a tad crowded.” She gestured to the curtain. “Half the school suddenly fell ill when word got out you were in here. Worse than exam week.” 

Gawkers waiting to see the caged animal. It had you abandoning the idea of leaving. They wouldn’t get another show from you. Not today You laid down again, hating the burn of action. “Surprised they’re not charging admission.”

She laughed. “I’m sure someone’s conning the First Years into it.”

Madam Urquart came through the curtain. “You should still be asleep.” Exasperated, she opened the cabinet by your bed and pulled out a potion. She shoved it into your hands, told you to drink, and left. 

“Her bedside manner’s still as charming as ever, eh?”

“A real doll.”

Annette uncorked the bottle, the task too difficult for you. “Sleep well,” she said as you drifted off again.

—

A sightless dream permeated the blackness.

A gentle caress of your hair. A soft kiss on your forehead. A lullaby you hadn’t heard in so long it might only have ever been a figment of your imagination.

The north wind doth blow

And here comes the snow

And what will the eagle do then?

Poor thing

She’ll sit in the rafters

And keep herself warm

And hide her head beneath her wing

Poor thing

The lullaby faded. Footsteps and rustling fabric. “I’m sorry to intrude.” You tried to move, but not even your lashes offered a flutter. “I wanted to ensure this was returned.”

A heavy sigh. “I’ll be sure she gets it. Thank you.” Something clinked. A silent moment. “They say she looks worse than she is. That she only needs a few days to recover.”

“I’m sure whoever did this to her is worse off.”

Your finger flexed infinitesimally.

Another soft touch brushed across your forehead. “It seems she held her own, but it’s a miracle she managed to survive. She was very lucky.”

Something creaked. 

“However she survived it had nothing to do with luck or miracles.” More rustling fabric, fading footsteps. The lullaby resumed.

The north wind doth blow

And here comes the snow

And what will the snake do then?

Poor thing

He’ll coil up tightly

And keep himself warm

Until the first budding of spring

Poor thing

—

Theseus’s promise had fallen short. Keeping your family at bay was easy, but the rest of the Ministry was a different beast. You were given enough time between waking and your first interrogation to eat and bathe, but only just.

A meal of toast, beans, and a fried egg devoured before you were helped to the small washroom. As much as you craved a bath, a shower was all it offered. You worked to clean the grime and flecks of blood under the pelting water. You faced your reflection after. Thin, jagged lines littered your face. Half-healed scars of what had been open wounds the day before. A bruise on its final, ugly stage splayed across your neck and shoulder that matched the ones scattered across the rest of your body. Skin across your arm that had been singed now new and raw. The shadow of days worth of sleep deprivation lingered under your eyes. Frizz and knots had taken hold of your hair. Unseen was the ache that slowed your movements.

The gown you were given barely felt different than being bare. The material too thin, the length too short, the neckline too wide.

Several Ministry officials were waiting around your cleaned bed when you limped out. Neither Theseus nor Annette were there. Anger welled in your eyes at the witnesses, most you’d known since you were a toddler, to your humiliation. What would have been the difference if they’d waited outside? Edmund Bones, an aide to the Minister, asked if you needed Urquart for the pain.

“No,” you had hissed as you slid into the bed. “Just get this over with.”

Their questions went on for hours. Every part of your story nitpicked and debated. Did you actually need a new wand? Were you really in London? How many people had actually been there? How did Dumbledore get Splinched on such a short distance? Why didn’t you Apparate? How did an eagle find you but not dozens of trained trackers? Why surrender at all when you’d seemingly escaped? Their condescension irritated the scrapes they’d already left on your ego. 

Neither you nor them were satisfied by time lunch rolled around, but Urquart had demanded a break. Cottage pie had never tasted so good. It wasn’t nearly as good when it came back up. “You’ve got to take it slow,” the Healer cautioned after she’d cleaned the mess. You asked if you’d get another potion soon. She shook her head. “Your body needs time to recover from the last round or it'll be overwhelmed. Best to wait a couple days.” She helped adjust the pillows behind you until you were as comfortable as you could be. She left only when they returned, warning she’d be in her office if you needed anything.

It had you half grateful, half mortified. How bad off were you that Urquart had taken pity on you?

The questions repeated until candles replaced the light of the sun. Then they ventured before the day of the attack. The strain you’d been under in the weeks since such a disturbing display of violence from your brother. The stress of planning a wedding while still in school. How difficult it must be in a very publicized relationship. 

“I can handle it just fine. And I don’t see how any of that has to do with what happened to me."

It was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Filmore Flint, who responded. “The timing of your attack was…highly convenient. You needing a new wand and convincing Dumbledore to take a stroll through Muggle London at the exact same moment these supposed followers of Grindelwald were there? Almost improbable.”

“Almost,” you agreed spittingly, “and yet it happened. You have a dozen Aurors who can attest to that.”

“What I have is a dozen Aurors who can say they saw you surrounded by a group of witches and wizards in a random forest after suddenly being able to find you despite failing for days. Which again is very convenient timing.”

“What are you implying, Flint? That I made it all up? Set it up?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m saying it was very convenient how everything came together.”

A near hysteric laugh broke from your throat. “Convenient? What was convenient? Seeing a man lose half his head. Nearly watching Dumbledore die? Being freezing and hungry and terrified? I thought I was never going to see my friends again. Or my brother. And in the end I was going to trade my freedom for my country’s because I thought that was the right thing to do. Was that convenient? Now every part of me aches and all I want is to be back in my dorm, in my bed, in my clothes with my friends who saved my life. But I can’t because I am here talking to a bunch of beauracrates who’d rather point fingers at a teenager than face the truth. None of it is fucking convenient for me. But I suppose it is for you. Makes your job easier when you don't actually have to do it, huh?”

There were a few very half-assed assurances that of course it wasn’t convenient and that the questions were only raised out of procedure, but no apology came from Flint himself. They left you half an hour later more exhausted and exasperated than you'd been the day before. 

Theseus and Annette returned to your sour mood. Neither surprised they’d been cruel in their questioning. “Your disappearance caused quite the stir,” Theseus said. “Your friends weren’t as quiet as the Ministry would’ve liked and the Daily Prophet couldn’t resist.” He pulled several folded papers from his briefcase, offering them to you.

DUMBLEDORE REPORTED MISSING ALONGSIDE WELL-KNOWN STUDENT

SEARCH UNDERWAY FOR MISSING HOGWARTS STUDENT AND PROFESSOR: FRIENDS' CLAIM GRINDELWALD IS TO BLAME

DUMBLEDORE AND SELWYN FOUND BATTERED & BRUISED BUT BREATHING

GRINDELWALD IN LONDON? WHAT WE KNOW SO FAR

The one that connected your disappearance to Grindelwald would have come out the morning before they attacked in the woods. Was it how they knew he was still injured? Confirmed that you were still there waiting for rescue? Had it prompted them to act sooner? “Well at least something good came out of this,” you murmured, flipping through the pages of the latest issue. Articles that focused on the Muggle war and ones about Grindelwald’s known associates—including Vinda Rosier. The picture was old, but you’d recognize her face anywhere.

“We’ve been trying for months to get them to print anything related to Grindelwald and they refused. But the moment the future Mrs. Malfoy went missing,” Annette tisked with frustrated amusement, “suddenly they can write about him.”

You flipped another page to more pictures. “Don’t call me that.” You thought you might have recognized a couple.

Theseus cut in. “You’re right. This,” he nodded to the paper, “is good. We warned the Ministry this could happen. People should have been prepared for this. If it had been anyone else this had happened to, I can’t imagine I’d be having a conversation with them.”

“Well no one else has Abby and Issa,” you agreed, setting the paper aside. You’d been sitting in the same position too long and it was beginning to grow sore. You tried to move some of the pillows yourself, but your face gave away the stinging discomfort. Annette helped you lay on your side. “Speaking of, do you think I could see them before dinner?”

—

It only took ten minutes between your request and their appearance in the Hospital Wing. Annette shushed Theseus when he tried to protest you getting out of bed. You limped down the empty room, intending to meet them in the middle but instead you only made it a few feet before they’re wrapping their arms tightly around you. 

“Thank you.” You heard their sniffles and held them tighter. “Thank you.”

—

“Ten more minutes?” Larissa pleaded.

Urquart, her usual brusqueness returned, sighed. “Five.” And she was gone. 

You were seated crossed legged on the bed with Larissa behind you working on the final braid in your hair. Abigail was curled in the chair. They’d stayed for hours, well past dinner and curfew. Listening. Admiring your wand. Telling you the chaos after your letter. Now they shared their own encounter with Flint and his unabashed desire to keep Grindelwald’s name out of it all. “Only managed to get in the paper cause Azar knew that reporter,” Larissa said.

Abigail let her chin rest on top of her knee. “And bribed the editor to run the story. Plus helping us sneak out of the castle to do the interview.”

“Wait, what?” Abigail shushed you, but you continued in a whisper. “Bribes and sneaking out? What the fuck?”

“Flint told us we needed to keep it quiet,” she said softly. “That your claim about Grindelwald was unsubstantiated and there was no reason to cause a panic.”

“So of course we told everybody.” Larissa leaned over to grab the nightcap at the very edge of the bedside table, nearly knocking over the hair potion she’d brought along. “Ralph had the idea to take it a step further with the paper by sending a letter, but all we got was the story about your disappearance in there. He was so upset. Next thing we know, he’s gone to Azar and they’ve got a plan to get us face to face with a reporter.”

The information had your mind reeling. Ralph? Azar? Together?

Abigail peeked over her shoulder before speaking. “They wouldn’t tell us everything, only that your uncle knew the reporter and a little bribe got the editor to ensure he’d run the story front page. The two of them snuck us out through this passage in the middle of the night that took us to Hogsmeade and got us into this back room at the Hog’s Head. It was,” she shook her head, “so weird.”

“Kind of felt like being in a spy novel.” Larissa’s arms slid around your waist and her head rested on your shoulder. “I think I’ll stick to romances.”

You tried to smile as you gripped her arm, but it didn't stick. “I’m not sure that’s much of an option anymore.”

“He’s really coming?” There was a tremble in Abigail’s voice.

“Yeah,” you nod, “he’s coming.”

—

Sleep did not come easily without a Draught. Every thought too distracting. You laid in the dark, tossing and turning unable to find comfort. The image of a half gone head spilling into the snow filled the void when you closed your eyes.

When sleep did come, it was restless. Disjointed. Your name repeated with promises of freedom and power. Chess pieces, black and life-sized, with swords raised. Bloodied, fragmented mirrors reflecting brown eyes then blue. A twisted hand grasping at your throat. Alone. Back at the pond. He’s coming. Run. Trees passed in a blur. But you’re back at the pond. He’s coming. Run. Crimson snow crunched under your feet. But you’re back at the pond. He’s coming. Run. The rabbit, white fur rotted, bounded beside you. But you’re back at the pond. He’s coming. Run. You stared at your reflection in the water. Tom stared back over your shoulder. “Run.”

—

“You look awful,” Hestia Malfoy said, nose wrinkled as she and her husband stood over you. When you’d said family could come, you hadn’t realized how loose the term would be interpreted. 

“Mother, please.” Abraxas took the place at your side, grasping your hand as if you’d float away. “You look beautiful.”

“You do look awful,” your mother said, less disdainfully than you expected. Too softly. Too motherly. “They should have taken you to St. Mungo’s. The Healers there know what they’re doing.”

“We should have you come to the Manor. Have our own Healer take care of you.” 

You recalled their choice in Healer. “I’ll be back to normal in a few days.” 

Abraxas rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand. “None of this should have happened. I could have bought you a new wand.”

“And going into the Muggle side? You were asking for trouble.” Sixtus gave a disgusted snort.

His wife agreed. “You’re lucky it was wizards who attacked you and not those sort. Have you heard the vile things they do to each other?”

“No, but I’ve heard the things Grindelwald has done to them.”

Hestia’s mouth stretched into a thin line. “It’s more humane than the way they have been killing each other.”

“And what of the things he’s done to wizards? What his followers did to me?”

Sixtus laughed. “You’re the one who shot the first spell.”

Iron coated your tongue as your mother veered the conversation back to your appearance. 

—

Sounds of wandering students wafted through the cracked door. The remains of lunch sat on the nightstand growing cold. The papers Theseus had left were scattered across the bed, the morning’s in your hands. Crime of Passion? Minster Claims Recent Attack Was Personal. It was ridiculous. All your words had been twisted. Yes, it was personal, but it wasn’t some petty vindictive crime. It was an act of war. It had been written by a different reporter than the others. A Claudius Rookwood. If you remembered correctly, his mother had been a Flint. 

You tossed it aside, leaned back, and tried to rub out the pounding in your head. It wasn’t fair. All that to not even have the truth out there? If only that reporter your friends had spoken to had come along. But if it had taken some elaborate plan to sneak out of the castle to speak to them, you can imagine they weren’t welcome in the castle for one reason or another.

You sat up.

You could sneak out. Not alone, not when it was a struggle to walk. But if Azar could get four people out without being caught, he could get you out.

—

Dinner came and went. There was no response to the note you’d sent. You felt stupid for ever thinking he’d help. 

—

More hours of disjointed sleep. Dreams weaved between blinks. Snow. Curtains. Rabbits. Curtains. Blood. Curtains. Rings. Curtains. Water. Eyes. Eyes?

You blinked again. Eyes. Not quite blue, not quite green, but somewhere in between. Golden hairs specked through his brown eyebrows. Despite the dreary winter months, his skin still looked kissed by the sun.

Kneeled beside the bed, his expression was much the same as it had been that day you’d woken to it in the alley. Softer, less intense, but you recognized it now as his eyes flicked from scar to scar. Concern. 

“Ralph?” 

A half smile curled the side of his face at your groggy recognition. “Sorry to wake you, but we’ve got to get going.”

“Going?”

It was Azar who responded, his face hovering behind McLaggen’s. “To see a reporter about an interview.” His forehead creased. “If you’re still up to it.”

You sat up quickly. Too quickly. You ignored the wobble in your vision and threw off the blanket. McLaggen averted his gaze from your mostly bare legs, standing and shrugging off his robe. He handed it over. “It’s gonna be cold.”

It wasn’t cold. Days in the snow let the chill seep into your bones unnoticed. Yet you clutched the robe tighter as you followed McLaggen behind the mirror on the fourth floor into the dark, frigid passage. Somehow this was the place you’d come closest to dying. 

The tip of McLaggen’s wand illuminated the space. A crack ran along one of the walls. It was a mostly silent walk through the tunnel. It curved every so often, widened to a space large enough to fit half the Great Hall, and narrowed again, and finally came to end at a stone wall. Azar stepped forward and pressed his wand into a small hole you could barely see and turned it once, then twice, and continued until it had been done seven times. Like the wall that separated Diagon Alley and The Leaky Cauldron, the ceiling began to part. Azar stepped back several paces and the wall began to pull out into stairs. 

It was magical.

“What sorts of enchantments do you think they used to make this?”

Azar shushed you, keeping his eyes on the opening above. When satisfied with the quiet he motioned for you and McLaggen to follow. It took a moment to recognize the village, your attention only pulled from the entrance once it closed. It was odd at night. Still and silent.

The Hog’s Head was close. Azar led you to the back, up a set of rickety steps along the outside, and knocked thrice. It opened a moment later to a young woman you didn’t recognize. Her black brows raised,she shook her head, and stood aside. “You’re late.”

Fabula Auctor. Either a fictitious name or her parents paid a Name Seer who actually had the Sight. The former was more likely. 

Her questioning was nothing like the others you’d endured. She was emphatic, but never complimentary. She asked for clarification, not to dismiss. And it didn’t end with the arrival of the Aurors. The days after. The relief, the pain, the joy, the anger, the comfort, the fear. 

“What’s been the hardest part of being back?”

“Sleep.”

“Why is that?”

You hesitated, crossing your arms in front of you, one hand rubbing at your neck. She prompted again, patient but insistent. But nothing came out of your mouth. The nightmares were not something you wanted to share. 

“Move on,” Azar said.

And she did. She scribbled a bit more and finally set her quill aside. “That’s all the questions I have. Last thing I need is a picture.”

“Is that the best idea?” McLaggen asked. “They’ll know she isn’t in the Hospital Wing.”

Fabula smiled. “They won’t have a clue.”

The walk back was like wading through water. Twice you stumbled over the too long robe still draped around your shoulders. The first time you’d caught yourself. The second McLaggen had caught and steadied you. You took his offered arm, leaning heavily against him. 

“Thank you,” you said. You should have said more. Told him how grateful you were for everything he’d done. The kindness in the alley, the effort to ensure your story was told—both now and before. Apologize your mother’s letter. Ask him about the child he’d have soon. You said nothing else. 

The back of the mirror appeared several minutes later. Azar checked his watch. “You should head up to your dorm. Rounds start in half an hour,” he told McLaggen. “I’ve got her,” he added, holding up his own arm for you to take.

The stairs were the worst, moving as you were midstep. But you made it down and back into the Hospital Wing unnoticed. Azar helped ease you back into the bed, McLaggen’s robe slung over his arm after a promise to return it. When he’d pulled the blanket back over you and said a good night, you reached for his hand. 

“Thank you for Drein. And for coming tonight.”

He squeezed your hand. “Least I could do.” He tried to release your hand.

But you held firm. You had not forgotten. “Why did you write the note?”

His shoulders sagged. His voice low, lower than it had been before in the quiet. “He said he wanted to apologize. We were supposed to meet at the library. All three of us so we could talk in a place you’d feel safe. I didn’t want you two alone again.” He scoffed at himself. If you had the energy, you would have too. “When neither of you showed up I spent hours trying to find you. But you were nowhere and neither was he. Not even at dinner. And when he finally showed in the middle of the night, he was different.” He paused, searching for a better word. “Somber. Never seen him like that. Like he was in mourning. When you weren’t anywhere Sunday and the paper said you and Dumbledore were missing, I thought he had…” He swallowed and didn’t finish. “It wasn’t until McLaggen went asking for help I knew you were alive.”

“You thought he had killed me,” you whispered, “and you said nothing.”

His head bobbed. “And I said nothing.”

“Is that why you did all this? Guilt?”

“Tom asked me too," he breathed.

Exhaustion smothered whatever reaction you'd have had. Your hand thumped against the bed. You closed your eyes and let the nothingness sleep offered consume you. 

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[shxtodxroki]

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚝𝚑

Summary: It’s been just about a day since Izuku’s return to U.A. after exiling himself for the sake of you and the rest of your classmates, and you’re determined to help him warm up and feel safe once more with a cup of hot cocoa and some cozy cuddles.

Flufftober Day 7 Alternate Prompt: Hot Chocolate

Warnings: Mental health struggles in line with Izuku’s mental state during the vigilante arc

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Check out my full Flufftober masterlist here!

He’s doing better now. Or at least, he looks to be doing better, in comparison to the frail, exhausted, beaten down boy you had dragged through the doors of the U.A. dorm just 24 hours ago, seeming so lonely as he clung on to your warm frame oozing with worry despite his insistence that he shouldn’t drag you down with his presence. You had barely left his side since the moment he returned to the dorms, struggling to let go of him even long enough to bathe himself though he desperately needed it now that you finally had him back.

He had spent most of the day resting, catching up on the sleep he had clearly been deprived of while out on his own. You were working with your classmates to keep him well-fed throughout the day, seeing how frail and worn out he looked after his brief life of solitude. All Might even made a point to bring food for the boy, his guilt shining through as he blamed himself for your boyfriend’s initial departure and the burden weighing him down. It had been a combined effort to get Izuku to where he was now, snuggling into your side with a blanket over his frame while you hold him close and run your fingers through his fluffy hair as he finally seemed somewhat content to be back in the dorms. 

“How are you feeling, ‘Zuku? Do you need anything?” You ask for what feels like the millionth time since the previous night, your hands gliding smoothly through his forest locks since you had long ago worked out any tangles. His wide, beautiful eyes look up at you as he hears your voice, his voice soft and gentle as he responds.

“Mmm…. I’m still a little cold…” He mumbles quietly, not meeting your eyes out of guilt. He feels bad putting so much on you, feels bad that he left you to worry about him while he was out on his own, and most of all, feels bad that just being with him puts you in even more danger than you would have been in otherwise as a U.A. student and future hero. Your brow furrows, not out of annoyance but rather concern, at his response. You had hoped your body heat and the thick blanket would be enough to warm him with time, but it seems that the cold from the outside him had managed to chill him to the very bone during his time away in a way that wasn't easily remedied, marking him with these lonely and bitter chills.

Luckily for both of you, you believe you just may have the perfect cure for his shivers and iciness.

“...I think I have something that can help you, baby. Can you stay here for a second? I want you to keep yourself bundled up as much as possible, and I’ll be right back.” You look at him with a soft, loving gaze as you speak, your hand moving to cup his cheek as your thumb gently brushes against his rough skin. Safety and security are what he needs right now, and you’ll be damned if you can’t give him that, at the very least. You’re gentle with him, maybe gentler than he needs, but you can’t stand anything else but the softest touches to his broken down frame right now as you carefully make your way out from his hold while still leaving him cozily wrapped up in a pile of blankets.

“Alright…” He practically whispers, seeming so unsure and dull, so unlike the bright, eager Izuku you used to know. This fight, the impending war against the villains who have been looming over the school and the world for so long, seems to have sucked out his joy like a leech. You need to find a way to bring it back, to return to him even an ounce of his happiness from before. You just have to. You can’t stand seeing him like this.

You don’t clue him in to what you’re thinking, however. You don’t want him to worry about you right now, not even a bit. So you simply offer him a soft smile as you make your way to the kitchen in the dorms, pulling out two mugs as well as two small plates as you temporarily exile those concerns from your mind. Even if you can’t do much, you can at least do something small for your boyfriend. He deserves it, he deserves the world right now and you would give anything to bring it to him.

You know the kettle takes around 10 minutes to boil, so you quickly turn that on as you set two packets of hot cocoa mix aside for the moment. The bag of marshmallows in the communal pantry is thankfully fresh, not yet fallen victim to Denki’s persistent habit of leaving them half-open until they go stale, and you set two large marshmallows onto the small plates on the counter before closing up the bag and returning it into the pantry.

The marshmallows spin and inflate in the microwave for a few seconds, growing puffy and gooey and perfect for s’mores before you swiftly pull them out once they've cooked enough to finish assembly. Sandwiched between a graham cracker on either side with a layer of chocolate in between, within five minutes you’re staring at two delectable sweet treats for you to share with your boyfriend, setting them aside as you turn to the kettle to see if it’s heated up yet.

It is, you realize as you see steam brewing and flowing from the lid, though you nearly jump out of your skin before you even get a chance to pour the water into the mugs. Two rough, calloused arms encircle your waist from behind as hands work their way beneath your shirt to gently brush your stomach, and after a moment the realization dawns on you that Izuku’s come to see you in the kitchen despite you asking him to stay on the couch.

“I missed you.” He mumbles pitifully, burying himself into the thin fabric of your shirt as he pulls you into his hold. Your heart melts at the touch, knowing he means more than just today with those words, and tears spring to your eyes at the thought that he felt so lonely and needy after so many days out on his own. You refuse to let them fall, though, as you turn to face him and hug him in return, still so relieved to have him back in your arms again after so much time apart. "I always miss you."

“I always miss you, too. You can stay here with me if you want, baby. I’m almost done anyways.” You whisper with a voice brimming with love, your heart cracking and mending itself back together all at once as you press a tender kiss to his forehead and cradle him in your arms. “I made s’mores, I know you love them.” 

His eyes seem to brighten a bit at the sight of the treat on the counter, subconsciously leaning more of his weight into you as you carefully pour a sufficient amount of hot cocoa mix into each of the mugs in front of you with the chocolatey scent wafting into the air. You quickly follow up with the kettle of hot water, filling the mugs nearly to the top before adding a splash of milk into each just the way you know he likes. No words are exchanged between the two of you for a moment, just a simple hum of contentment from your boyfriend’s lips as he watches you pull out a packet of mini-marshmallows and let him relax and melt into you. You load both cups up to the very brim, adding extra marshmallows into his cup for good measure as your free hand brushes against his where it rests on your stomach.

“....Sorry I didn’t stay on the couch like you told me to.” He whispers into your ear, the feeling sending shivers cascading down your spine as you wipe down the counter and move to put everything away with Izuku trailing behind you.

“Don’t apologize, you know I’m always happy to be around you.” You chide gently, now lacing your fingers through his and squeezing his hand lightly. You’re delicate as you pry his hands from the hold he has around your torso, placing his mug in one and his s’more in the other as you grab yours as well. And finally, finally after days of worry and stress and pain, a small smile blooms on his face as he makes his way back over to the couch with you right by his side, at peace for a brief moment following so many months of unease. You’re careful to bundle the two of you up tight in your mountain of blankets as you cuddle up closely to one another, your mugs in your hands as you swipe a puff of marshmallow off of Izuku’s face with a giggle. He nuzzles gratefully into your hand in response, and that night Izuku falls asleep warm, cozy, and most of all, loved, tucked into your side with a belly full of hot cocoa and s’mores and a heart full or warmth.

Request - Anonymous said: Izuku for flufftober, he’s the fluffiest of the fandom

A/N: Sorry this is so late, the past few days have been super busy and I didn’t have time to write when I thought I would! I literally pulled an all-nighter and didn’t sleep until like 8AM yesterday trying to get some classwork done, but once I finally slept I had some time to write! I’m gonna try and catch up on the Flufftober days I missed super quickly, but I still had fun writing this and think it turned out super cute so I hope you guys enjoy it as well! :D Also my requests are open right now, so if you have any requests please feel free to send them my way! :]

Taglist: @flufftober @pasteldaze @papijean @deadmans-toe @trashy-bowtie @palenightmarepersona @eunoiasa @lady-juliette @swiftbyul @tsukkisukkii @shotos-angelic-whore

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[cozage]

The Daughter's Return: Part 3

Chapter 4: Doctor's Visit

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 2.2k

As soon as the doors to the clinic were open, Ace was dragging you inside. He even wore a shirt without you having to remind you. He was that desperate to get you in.

You couldn’t blame him. Neither of you had gotten much sleep. When you finally managed to doze off, you were haunted by horrific dreams. It was almost better to be awake and sleep deprived. But when you were awake, you were also nauseous. Both states of being were about equally as miserable. 

Ace hadn’t slept well either. You knew he was anxious to be on an island. He wanted to be out at sea, chasing down Teach. And you couldn’t blame him. Justice had to be dealt and you were keeping him tied down, waiting for the clinic to open their doors. 

The doctor took you quickly, though they made Ace wait in the lobby. It made you nervous to be separated from him, but it would be easier to talk about your actual concerns this way. 

You gave a false name and age to the worker, not wanting your records to be found by anyone. Then they took your weight and blood pressure, which they noted was a bit high. That would be reason for concern, if you weren’t in the process of tracking down your uncle’s killer.  

“My name is Ali,” the young nurse said. “What brings you in today.?”

“Quite frankly,” you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“Oh!” Ali said, her eyes widening in shock.

“The guy out in the lobby doesn’t know yet. I just wanted to get a test to be certain before I told him.”

“Of course.” Ali nodded and began writing some information down on her sheet. “I’ll order some labs for you, and take some blood. Should I bring him back or leave him out there?”

You sighed in relief. This girl really was a godsend. She knew exactly what you needed. 

“Can you bring him back?” you asked. “That would be great.”

She went and gathered Ace, who you referred to as Axel in front of the staff, and then began to prepare for a blood sample. As she tried to take your blood, you realized you had forgotten to give her very important information. 

“Oh!” You pulled away from the incoming needle, startling the nurse. “I’m sorry, I just forgot to tell you- I have a devil fruit power. Logia type.”

“Oh dear,” Ali said, quickly pulling away her needle. “I totally forgot to ask you that question as a part of the screening. Here-” she handed you a bracelet that had green stone and an adjustable leather cord. “If you’ll just put that on, we can get started.”

When you put it on, you hardly felt different. You felt a little more solid than you usually did, but that was about it.

“What is this?” you asked, examining the bracelet around your wrist. 

“Sea prism,” the nurse said. You felt Ace stiffen beside you. Sea prism usually meant bad things for pirates, but you trusted this woman.

 “It’s an extremely weakened version of it, so it just negates your abilities without physically weakening you. You’ll need it if-” she paused, her eyes flitting over to Ace. “Well, we can talk about the uses for it later.”

She easily stuck the needle in and drew out a few vials of blood, and then sent them off to the lab. “We’ll have results in about ten to twenty minutes. Just hang tight, okay?”

You gave her a tense smile. “Thanks.”

Ace looked pale and sick. You couldn’t blame him. Usually when people were this kind, it was a trap. Every bone in your body was telling you to flee. But you couldn’t run away this time. You had to wait for the results. 

“Are you going to die?” Ace whispered. “I know I said you could go first, but I didn’t mean this soon.”

“I’m not going to die, Ace,” you said. “Let’s just wait for the results, okay?”

You didn’t have to wait long, thankfully. Ali had worked some kind of laboratory magic, and came back in less than ten minutes. 

When the door opened, Ace’s hand interlaced in yours and he held onto it tightly, as if you were his only anchor for survival. 

Ali gave you a big grin as she shut the door, looking at the two of you with pure joy on her face. “I believe some congratulations are in order!”

“Congratulations?” Ace asked, confusion written all over his face. 

You wanted to puke. You were right. And now Ace was about to find out. 

“All of the bloodwork came back normal,” Ali confirmed. “Except for the pregnancy test. That came back positive.”

You gripped Ace’s hand tighter than you thought possible, but Ace was still processing her words. 

“Pregnancy test?” He looked at you, his eyes wide with fear. “You’re pregnant?”

“It looks like she’s about done with her first trimester!” Ali squeaked, her excitement palpable in the room. You wished you could feel the same. 

“Ali-” you cleared your throat, trying to maintain your composure. “Can we have a minute?”

“Oh!” Ali’s face flushed with pink. “Of course. Let me give you some privacy to talk about this, and then we can go over everything you need to know.”

Ace was still staring at you, unbelieving and unaccepting. You flinched slightly as the door shut, waiting for Ace to say something. Anything. 

“How long?” Ace demanded. “How long have you known?”

“Last night,” you admitted. “The no-moon made me realize.”

“We were so careful!”

You sighed. “The onsen.”

Ace’s eyes got wide. “Fuck,” he hissed. “I forgot about that.”

“I swear I didn’t know before last night,” you promised. 

“I believe you,” Ace said. “You were too stubborn about that no-moon.”

You gave a nervous laugh that quickly died, leaving the room wrapped in an eerie silence. 

“What do we do?” you whispered, tears filling your eyes. Now that it was real, it all felt so scary. 

“What do you mean? We’re having a baby!” Ace laughed, a toothy smile emerging from his previously concerned face. “I thought you were dying, but this is great news in comparison!”

“But-” you paused to wipe away your tears. “You said you didn’t want kids.”

He put a hand atop your stomach, staring down at where your child was growing. “I changed my mind.”

“You changed your mind?”

“Yep.” He gave another soft smile, staring at your stomach with complete love and infatuation. “We’re gonna be better parents than even Pops. Think we can do that?”

You laughed, choking out a sob as well. “I thought you said pirates-”

He cut your words off with his lips; a kiss that was long and deep, and all of your doubt was instantly replaced with love. 

He finally pulled away from your lips, pressing his forehead against yours. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You gave him a tearful smile and nodded in agreement. “Okay,” you whispered. 

“I really thought you were going to die,” Ace whispered. “This is nothing compared to that.”

Ace couldn’t stop staring at your belly, that goofy grin still widespread across his face. He was still staring when Ali knocked on the door a few minutes later, and came back in. 

“How are we feeling?” she asked, her eyes glancing between you and Ace. 

“Great!” Ace was cheerful and enthusiastic as he spoke to Ali, but he kept his hand protectively over you. 

“Awesome!” Ali said, turning back to you. “There’s a lot of information we need to go over, but the most important is that bracelet. It’s yours now. Keep it on unless you need to use your devil fruit powers.”

“Wait, what? Why?” you asked, looking at the sea prism bracelet. 

“Logia users are at the highest risk of a failed pregnancy. Your body goes through extreme changes and isn’t even always solid sometimes. You may be able to handle those changes like it’s nothing, but a baby can’t.

“We recommend you keep your ability usage down to around 15 minutes over an hour span between months two through four. I’m guessing your body has been having some weird reactions over the past few weeks? The pregnancy would be the reason for it. Keeping that bracelet on should help negate those adverse effects, as well as clear up any major nausea and major sickness you’ve been having.”

“Wow,” you whispered. “I had no idea. That makes so much sense.”

“Between months five and nine,” Ali continued on, handing Ace a pamphlet. “We recommend no ability usage at all unless absolutely imperative circumstances. It’s very dangerous to the baby for the mother to use powers during that time. That bracelet will be your absolute best friend over the next few months. I hope you like green!”

You gave a light laugh as you continued to stare at the bracelet, but you could feel dread bubbling up inside you. If you couldn’t use your powers, you weren’t sure how much help you would be at any time over the next few months, for Ace or for your family. 

“I’m sure you’re worried about losing the bracelet,” Ali said, misunderstanding your unease. “We’ll give you a bag with two more in it, just in case one breaks or gets lost. And you can always come back to this clinic or any clinic on the Grand Line, most of them have a form of this in stock.”

“What about the baby?” Ace asked. “You said months two through four she should only be using her devil fruit powers 15 minutes an hour, but we’re on month three. Is there anything to be worried about?”

“We’ll do a routine checkup,” Ali said, turning to look at you. “But months two through four are more for the mother's sake. Preparing you to not be reliant on your powers as well as keeping the sickness at bay.”

You gave a nod, but your hand reached out to find Ace’s again. This was too much information. There was no way you would remember it all. He gripped your hand reassuringly, giving you an encouraging squeeze every now and then as Ali rambled through more specific deatils. 

She went over hundreds of other pieces of information, each thing coming with its own pamphlet or handout. Where to get checkups, how to get proper nutrition, things to look out for and things that were completely normal. It was overwhelming, and by the end of it, your head was spinning. 

The two of you walked out of the clinic, hands full of vitamins, appointment schedules, and the results of a healthy baby. It felt like an eternity ago that Thatch had died, and you wanted to cry remembering he was gone. How had you already forgotten so quickly?

As you and Ace walked back to the boat, you passed a board full of bounty posters. 

“Hey!” Ace called you back to the board. “Our bounties went up.”

You scowled. “We didn’t even do anything!”

He gave you a wicked grin. “They probably assumed the masterminds were involved in the embargo Thatch did the other week.”

His face fell at the mention of his fellow commander. It was clear that he had forgotten too. You walked back to the board, trying not to think about it too hard. Now was not the time for sadness. It was time for revenge. 

“What are they now?” You scanned the board, looking for your bounty poster. Both you and Ace had gotten updated photos after the Marine Ball incident, and it took a second to find them. 

“You’re at 550 million!?” you whispered, thoroughly impressed. Six months ago he hadn’t even been at a million, and now he was over halfway to a billion. 

“And you’re 790 million,” Ace smirked, nudging you playfully. “Look at you go.”

You rolled your eyes. “The Navy only sees Newgate.”

Ace pulled down your poster and shoved it in his pocket, and he stared at the board again, his mouth hanging wide open. 

“What?” you asked, looking where your poster had been. 

A straw hat. Not just any straw hat. Uncle Red’s old straw hat. The one he had promised to you years and years ago. 

“Hey!” you shouted. “I know that hat!”

“You know that hat?” Ace yelled back, his enthusiasm growing. “I know that kid! That’s Luffy!”

“Luffy?!” You looked back at the poster. Monkey D. Luffy. Ace’s little brother. 

You looked at him. “You’re telling me that your little brother stole my hat? Your family just keeps stealing all the stuff that was promised to me!”

He laughed at your joke, and you found yourself laughing along too. It had been a long time since you had thought about your promised position in a bitter way, and an even longer time since you had thought about that hat. 

“We should go see him,” Ace offered wistfully. “I was browsing the papers while you were with the nurse. Sounds like Teach was heading back to Paradise to form a crew.”

“Man, it’s been forever since I’ve been to Paradise.” You pulled down Luffy’s bounty poster, examining it as you walked. “You know Luffy already has a higher bounty than you did a few months ago, right?”

Ace groaned and shook his head. “The Navy is different with rookies now than they used to be. They don’t underestimate them anymore.”

“Or maybe he’s just stronger,” you said, sending him a cheesy grin as he rolled his eyes. 

“Come on.” He snatched Luffy’s poster out of your hand, but gingerly folded it up and placed it in his pocket. “We’ve got a pirate to find.”

--

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[gabessquishytum]

I’ll be honest I read that last pregnant mobster dream post as being about both dream and hob being pregnant.

So…yes dream is a pregnant mobster and hob is his favorite local pub owner who is…uh…also heavily pregnant.

They’re helping each other out! There are lots of hormones to deal with and both need foot massages and it makes Hob happy to have someone else going through his pregnancy with him.

Hob calls dream when he feels his baby kick! Dream buys two of everything—one diaper bag for himself, one for hob.

And dream knows it isn’t rational but he’s so glad hob is single now because even though it’s clearly hypocritical, as Dream is also pregnant, he can’t stand the idea that hob might have someone else in his and baby robin’s lives!

They are his and orpheus’s now and no one else’s.

We love a simultaneous pregnancy!!! Hell yeah, imagine the adorable contrasts between them. Hob is in big t-shirts and stretchy maternity leggings, meanwhile Dream is still trying to squeeze into his crisp, professional suits. He's a disaster waiting to happen, and Hob definitely has to lend him a hoodie on at least one occasion when his shirt can't handle the strain any longer.

With two sets of hormones swinging all over the place, the bickering between these two is legendary. Seeing them snipping at each other, you'd think they can't stand to be in the same room. Of course that's not the case (but if Dream eats his snacks again, Hob will not be holding back his temper). If they're not affectionately arguing, then they're absolutely so obviously in love. Everyone can see it, apart from them. All the soft looks and the tenderness and the longing. Hob is constantly checking up on Dream, touching the side of his belly with a smile that's full of adoration. If anything, Dream is even more obvious in his affections for Hob. He practically acts as though they're already in a relationship, and no one has ever treated Hob with such care and dedication before.

Unfortunately they're both stupid, and convinced that it's better for everything to remain strictly platonic.

After their two sons are born, life is very frantic. Dream has moved in to Hob’s flat (he spent one night alone with newly born Orpheus and simply couldn't do it again, and who can blame him!), the babies are practically twins with only 10 days between them. It's all milk and nappies and attempting to snatch a moment of sleep. Somewhere along the line, they start sharing Hob’s bed for the few hours between feeds. Cuddling up together for comfort just feels natural. Hob cries for the first time because his body is saggy and soft and he thinks he might never go back to how he was. Dream wipes his tears and calls him beautiful, even more beautiful now that he's carried and delivered a wonderful new life. One night Dream confesses that he's terrified for the future, for Orpheus, terrified that he's going die on the job and leave his baby. Hob holds him the whole time and promises firmly that Orpheus will always be safe with him.

One day Hob kisses Dream good morning (he's sleep deprived, still practically dreaming), and Dream kisses him back. Its as simple as that, apparently. Both of them are grinning as they go about the day - too exhausted for any kind of sex, but very much looking forward to soft kisses and cuddles when the opportunity arises.

Robyn and Orpheus are lucky. One of their dads owns an Inn, with an amazing kitchen full of nice food and nice people. Their other dad has a big box full of guns and rolls of cash and other interesting things that they're not allowed to touch. Hob’s definitely the one going to "parents come and talk about what their jobs are" day at school. But Dream is the one picking the boys up in a range rover flanked by 6 body guards. Their dads are also very VERY in love. Even if it took them both a hot minute to work it out!

[augustvandyne]

LOVEDDDDD THE BABY FIC 😭👏🏽 def neeeeeed a part 2 😘

-🖇

here it issssss! i feel like its really short but oh well..

baby jack

( months later)

Your eyes burnt, so you can only imagine how bad Angela felt.

The two of you loved that you had a third addition to your family, but you were beginning to think you should’ve just adopted a dog..

Just kidding!

You loved your wife, but she was starting to get on your nerves with the whole birthing mother crap, where she basically has you attend to the baby every time he begins crying because she went through all the pain without you.

Which isn’t totally true.. you were there during the important part. But Angela doesn’t see it that way. She wanted you there for the whole thing, and because you weren’t, she wakes you every time.

But to be fair, you did deserve it, and you loved her, so you’d do anything for her.

Even if it meant be sleep deprived.

And, besides, you love you and Angela’s son whom you’d named after your guys’ late friend Jackson.

You know his death tore Angela apart, and you as well, which is why you named the baby after him.

Angela goes and visits his grave at least twice a week, which you love her for.

Right now you guys have a rare quiet moment, so the two of you are cuddled up on the couch. Angela on top of you, with her head cuddling into your chest.

You get a solid, amazing, two hours of sleep before the baby starts crying from the room.

You groan, and tap Angela to get her to lay up, but she surprises you when she says, “Lay back down, I got him.”

Angela appears a few minutes later, the baby in her arms. You flip on some cartoons for baby Jack and open your arms back up for Angela once she sits the baby on his play mat.

Instead of laying back down with you, she sits up, and ushers you to lay your head in her lap.

She runs her hands through your hair, and it feels so good.

You can’t remember the last time the two of you laid together, just the two of you without interruptions, and it felt amazing.

Well, there was potentially an interruption, but right now he was occupied, so you were okay for now.

“I’m sorry,” Angela watches your sleepy face.

“For what?” You ask groggily.

“For putting all the baby stuff on you,” Angela gives a half smile. “It wasn’t your fault the only lead in weeks happened at the worst time ever.”

“No, but it is my fault that I took the lead. I could have just passed it off to Nyla,” You give a sympathetic look, and Angela can tell you really mean it.

“True, but it still isn’t fair I keep blaming everything on you,” Angela loosely starts braiding your hair. “You broke at least ten laws to get back to me in time.”

You sleepily laugh, “That I did.”

“I’ll swear to secrecy on one condition,” Your wife dips her chin to her chest so she can gain your full attention.

“And what may that be,” You sit up on your elbow, but make sure Angela’s fingers don’t leave your scalp.

“Forgive me,” Angela’s eyes scan yours. “I feel terrible for putting all the work on you. There was no reason for it. There’s no reason for me to blame you for anything at all, really, because you were there for what mattered, and that’s all I care about.”

“I forgive you,” You scan her eyes back, leaning up to give the woman a kiss. “And I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Angela gives you a breathtaking smile.

Jack crawls over towards the two of you, and you lean down to place a kiss on his head, picking him up to sit him in Angela’s lap.

“Hi Baby Jack,” Angela called him by the nickname that everyone had adapted to him the second they all met him.

“How’s your show, huh?” You place your finger in one of his tiny palms, looking at him the same exact way you look at Angela. Like you love him with your whole soul—you’d take a bullet for him or would trade yourself for him in a terrifying situation.

Jack babbles a small response back.

Angela just watches the interaction between the two people she loves most in the world, and it makes her feel bad about blaming you for everything all over again.

You give smooches to your babies cheek, to which Angela protests, “Heyyy, my turn!”

You chuckle in return, leaning up to give her a bunch of kisses on the cheeks and then another kiss on her lips.

Baby Jack claps, and then all three of you laugh together.

[johnslittlespoon]

okay listen feral bikerider gale/past catching up to him/etc etc etc anon here and can I just say. thank you. I’m not overly interested in the actual violence or gang-shit or whatever. when I first read about the bikerider au all I could think about was sons of anarchy (idk if you’ve watched it, but I watched three seasons with my dad and it’s all just. gang conflict after gang conflict after gang conflict with some romance sprinkled on top and that’s not. really my thing) and I was not into it. at all. then your yapping (affectionate) converted me. hearing that it won’t be all weapon smuggling and, idk, drugs or smth is actually so reassuring lol

and!!! obviously it’s your fic/au, I’m definitely not here to try to influence you in any way whatsoever!!! I’m super excited to read it no matter what because your writing is just. lovely. I check in pretty much every morning like I’m reading the papers lmao

doing something semi-stupid in your past feels like kind of on brand for everyone, even though it might not be illegal for most. and maybe it wasn’t illegal for Gale, either, bro I am not a very good writer, I’ll leave the plotting to someone else.

but I’ll always love the idea of Gale being a little feral. or a lot feral. like John getting hurt in a bikerider au tickles my brain the same way John punching a German guard in canon centric fics does. Nevermind the guard, I just need the fallout. the angsty fallout.

John and Gale coming back home, and Gale sitting him down in the bathroom to very, very carefully patch him up (and, listen, the other guys probably just roughed him up a little. he probably got away with minor bruises and some scrapes), and Gale being insanely worried that he has scared John. John on the other hand is worried for Gale, because what if it happens again? What if the police finds out? John being worried that he somehow messed up.

and, don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t mind reading feral gale beating the shit out of people. It’s just not something I want to read a full fic of.

finally, because I just need to add this, too: Gale’s knuckles being split and bleeding and John so very carefully cleaning them up, pressing gentle kisses to the cuts when he has to scrape the dried blood up to get it properly clean. Gale not being sure what he did to deserve John, being so sweet and gentle and caring.

okay, over and out 🫡 sorry for not being that clear in the other ask, I blame. idk, sleep deprivation. and sorry for making this so long, idk what I’m on about half the time and my meds are doing shit to my brain. I love your blog and your writing just. makes my fucking days. I’d wait forever for the next chapter of dog coded Bucky ❤️

YIPPIEE more leaving!bikeriders au >:) hii i meant to get back to this SO long ago, feels like good timing now with the bikeriders theatre day approaching! i'm assuming you're the anon from this post <3

i have THOUGHTS. aka this got lengthy oops, shocker. a bit of plotting and then like 2k words of drabble below the cut lmfaoo

the proper drabble will be further down, but first of all, very big agree!! and relieved i'm not the only one who feels this way omg. i haven't watched SOA for this reason specifically– i just don't have much interest in the conflict/violence–heavy plot stuff (which is ironic considering i'm excited for the bikeriders movie, but i think it's pretty clear that's because of the lovely cast lol since i don't care for bikes/cars in the slightest oops). HONOURED that my yapping converted you tho LOL i swear if something is character focussed, it can make 99% of topics at least somewhat appealing!

and please don't worry omg i don't feel influenced/pressured etc, i loveee bouncing ideas and brainrot back and forth for my aus, it's sm fun and i love trying to incorporate things other people like/suggest when i can!! <3 but omg i will weep thank you so much wtf?? :'))

for sure; even the most stoic/'put together' characters surely have done some not very bright things in their lives. i'm toying with a couple backstories for gale to establish what might catch up to him or cause conflict, but i'm gonna wait to decide until i see the movie because i have a feeling i'll get some good inspo from benny's story!

honestly it's the part i'll have to put the most effort into really thinking out in terms of plot to make it flow naturally, because all the relationship focussed things kinda write themselves as i brainrot. but i'm 99% sure i'm gonna write the fic from john's pov because it'll keep a lot of gale a mystery to the readers as well, and therefore save me from having to flesh out certain things until necessary lmfaoo

and yeah!! it's not always the events themselves that hit the hardest– it's the fact that the character could be feral enough for them to happen in the first place, and it's the outcome/fallout that's most fun to write/read (to me).

feral gale is so fun to explore in general because of how different it is to most of what we're shown of him in mota, so it's like a challenge to keep him feeling in character while also picking out the little parts of him that could be pushed to be that way. and of course the classic whump of the one person gale cares about and tries so hard to protect getting hurt because of him? endless angst possibilities.

i dig what you said, about john 'just' being roughed up a little, because i think with whatever backstory i end up forming, it's not like the 'bad guys' are gonna be some mastermind criminals extorting gale for something life or death lol. it's probably gonna be a bunch of rough and tumble biker men with some long lasting beef between their clubs, hitting gale where they know it'll hurt the worst: a loved one.

i bet you anything (depending on how plotting goes LOL) that they don't actually even intend to mess john up to the extent they do; i bet john runs his mouth and makes some sorta escape attempt because as terrified as he is, all he can think about is how gale's gonna obviously track him down and he's more worried about what the guys are planning to do to gale when he shows up. in his naive mind, if he can get out and get to a phone or something, he can stop everything.

ofc the escape attempt is futile because it's one gangly college kid vs a couple of grown ass men, and john gets banged up in the process, seeing as being tackled to the ground with your wrists bound behind your back doesn't leave you with anything to protect your face from concrete with, and maybe then he gets a solid fist to the face to scare him out of pulling anymore shit (it sure works).

and just the act of taking john/putting him danger alone would have gale ready to wring these men out by their necks, but when he shows up and sees his baby bleeding? and he can't tell how bad he's hurt, from where he's lurking around the corner scoping out the situation? he'd see red and be pretty dang close to saying fuck it and going in there without a plan, but the fear of john getting hurt in the process would stop him, and he doesn't feel like going down for murder.

somehow he picks off the guys one by one with a generous amount of flying fists and y'know, maybe a bit of knife–work if necessary, idk, future plotting lol, and tells them they're good as dead if they pull anything like this again. that the club will be keeping an eye out for them, that they're a buncha cowards, and they can come talk to him face to face like men, next time. you get it.

and then finally, obligatory wound care ofc <3 easily top three tropes ever ugh. gale gets john the fuck out of there and to the safety of his truck, methodical and vigilant, and only then does his guarded expression drop, and his hands are shaking just as hard as john's are when he cups john's face in his hands to look him over. john gives him a shell–shocked "'m fine, gale" and hates how guilty gale looks, because there's not even the tiniest part of john that blames gale for any of it; john knew what he was getting into (to an extent) with gale.

but regardless, gale's shaken up, terrified by how much worse things could've gone and how much danger john could've been in, but also terrified of how deeply he feels for john; probably some backstory there about gale seeing someone he loved get hurt, or almost get hurt, swearing he'd never bring someone into his life again because of it, etc, and then in waltzes stubborn, loud–mouthed john egan.

but selfishly (or what he feels is selfish), gale's also terrified that this might be the final nail in the coffin for john. he knows he's not the easiest to be with (even though john thinks the exact same thing about himself lol silly boys) and he knows john's more patient than he deserves, and could find someone his own age with a normal life in a heartbeat with his sweet disposition and charming pretty boy looks. and he knows john's well within his rights to walk away from their relationship now, to be scared of the future, to decide it's too much, and part of gale would be relieved to not have to worry, even if he'd miss john like he's lost half of himself.

it's real quiet when they're back home and john's sitting on the bathroom counter, gale between his legs, patching up his face so so gently, as if each brush of a cotton swab is an apology. both of them have lots to say but neither know how to say it; john hates knowing gale's probably shouldering all the blame and he doesn't know how to reassure him in a way that'll get through to him, but he can't handle the silence. probably makes a weak joke about how "y'shoulda seen the other guy" and doesn't even get a smile out of gale.

ends up wrapping his legs around gale's hips to pull him closer but just gets a huffed out, frustrated "john" as gale swats his ankles away, and it's not that john's trying to make light of what happened, he just doesn't know how to talk about something like that, regardless of how good he and gale have gotten at communicating.

john probably gets a bit frustrated, because gale’s already so protective over him as is, which he likes, but now gale’s treating him like glass, like he’s scared to hurt him further just by touching him, and john does not like that. it feels like progress undone, like he's back at the beginning of their relationship when gale wouldn't let him in or open up to him or trust that he was capable of making his own decisions.

so when gale's done bandaging him up with practiced, meticulous hands, john doesn't give gale time to react, just slides off the counter and snatches the little first aid kit from his hands and says "okay, your turn." and it's obvious gale wants to protest, but john catches him so off guard that he stunned into silence, lets john guide him until he's leaning against the counter.

john's hands still tremble when he takes gale's hands in his, and he tries to steady them because he doesn't want gale to see how freaked out he is, but he diligently cleans away the blood around his knuckles, feeling gale's eyes on him the whole time but not looking away from his task, scared he'll shatter the moment if he does.

if he were to look up though, he'd see gale's watching him in complete awe, struck by the fiercest wave of adoration, drawing a blank while he tries to search for what he could've possibly done in this life or another to have someone like john come (crashing, stumbling, tornado–ing) into his life.

and if we wanna make it extra yowch–y and sappy and feelings heavy: as john's brushing his lips over the cuts, dusting featherlight kisses across his knuckles, john's throat goes tight and he feels his own overwhelming rush of emotions and his heart thumps and he blurts out: "i love you."

it's the first time one of them says it. and it’s a disguised i love you even so. i love you despite. i love you anyway. i love you because. months worth of reassurances wrapped into three words, and even with what john's just gone through, he's still scared when it slips out, looks up at gale with wide, searching eyes, trying to gauge whether he's overstepped or said the wrong thing.

gale's just trying to catch his breath, feeling like the wind's been knocked out of him by the admission. half of him wants to shake his head, gently push john's hands away, tell him "no you don't, hun." a tiny part of him wants to be cruel about it, to laugh the honesty off and ensure john will walk out that door far, far away from the mess that gale is, and not turn back, safe from harm.

but the other half of him, the half that holds his heart, evidently, has him cupping john's open, sincere face in his hands, looking down into bright, fearful, hopeful blue eyes, and murmuring "i love you more."

and john blushes as hard as he did the first time they'd kissed, as hard as he did the first time he was laid out in gale's bed, as if he and gale haven't said a million things much more fluster–inducing since they met. gets all shy, pouts, looks down and mumbles "that's not fair," and that finally gets the first smile out of gale all day, maybe even a breath of a laugh.

they love each other your honour </333

this got way out of hand but what else is newwww i'm so weak for these two. so so weak. i keep saying it but MAN i'm so excited to write this fic this summer omg :')

and DON'T BE SORRY!! it's so chill omg, you were perfectly clear (but i'm glad you elaborated and gave me an excuse to yap about them some more hehehe) and never apologize for long messages, i loveee reading the brainrot and hearing ur thoughts and getting to brainrot back. and thank you AGAIN sobs 😭💗 that makes MY days and ur way too kind fml. i hope the wait hasn't been too long LOL on the chapters AND a response to this ask!! tysm again mwah

[2012wannabe]

untitled

wc: 1658

cw: f!reader x abusive bf, physical/emotional abuse, Abby takes care of reader

an: tbh I don’t really like this nor do I have a title. I might add some pics like I usually do later but all in all not that great 🥴🥴 if y’all have feedback or a title feel free to lmk

Notes for my fanfiction

“Hey- what’s that on your neck?” Abby asked. Your mind flailed for something to say, you weren’t expecting her to show up at your door.

“It’s nothing. What happened? Did someone drop out of night patrol?”

“That’s unimportant now. It looks like you have bruises on your neck.”

“Just from fighting.” Please buy it, please buy it. Abby’s eyes narrowed.

“You don’t look so good, can I just check it?” You swallowed and let her in, hands shaking slightly.

“It’s all good I promise.” Abby moved the cloth of your sweater to reveal more bruising forming handprints.

“Fuck you have literal hand prints on your neck, why didn’t you go to the infirmary for this?”

“It’s nothing.” You said weakly.

“Did someone hurt you?”

“No.” Your brain was spiraling, the stress, sleep deprivation, and your injury all starting to compound at once.

“If it was infected, why didn’t you just go get it checked out? No one would have questioned it, but you hid it.” Abby pressed, her worry growing.

“He didn’t mean it, okay!” You snapped. Oh fuck.

“He didn’t mean it?” She said incredulously, immediately figuring out who ‘he’ was. Her heart was in her shoes and she fought the urge to just scoop you up in her arms.

“Yeah, we’re fine now.”

“Fine? Have you seen yourself?”

“Yup.” You said weakly.

“At least let me look at it, get you ice and pain meds.”

“Ok.” You sighed. Abby examined the bruising,

“When did this happen?”

“Last night.”

“I can tell. Let me get some stuff, don’t leave.” You trembled as she left, wanting to cry. She returned just as quick as she left, applying ice to the worst of the bruises.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, now tell me about this person who left those marks on your neck.”

“I think you know.”

“Yeah, I do. But I’m asking anyway. Why are you still with him?”

“He’s fine, it was my fault anyway. I’m trying to be better.”

“It’s not your fault!” Abby said raising her voice suddenly. You flinched causing her heart to drop even more. Muttering an apology, she continued.

“He’s been putting you through hell and here you are trying to be better for him. He doesn’t deserve you.” You stuttered and searched for words but could only come up with a pathetic sounding,

“Really?”

“Yes, really. So please stop blaming yourself for his actions. They are all on him.”

“He always says it my fault.”

“And that’s what he wants you to believe. Because deep down inside he knows he messed up big time.” You blushed and muttered a thanks feeling embarrassed. She fixed your hair behind your ear and gently held your face.

“He hurt you, and he needs to pay for that.” Abby said sweetly.

“Can you stay with me a little bit?”

“Of course.” She said, looking at you love with overwhelming love in her eyes. Abby loved you with her whole heart and soul and though she would never admit it she despised your boyfriend and achingly wished it was her you were with. She kept her feelings to herself because she valued your friendship too much and seeing what he did to you just made her heart shatter into a million pieces. She knew she couldn’t make you leave him, that that had to be a decision you made on your own but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to be holding your hand every step of the way. You reached forward and hugged her, sinking into her embrace.

“I’ll take care of you today, okay.” Abby said sweetly. You nodded.

“I don’t deserve your kindness.” You said softly and quietly.

“Oh honey, you deserve more. But seriously, you need to leave him. And if there’s anything at all you need help with, I’ll help you. Just let me know okay?” You nodded and thanked her.

“It’s nothing really, you should go lay down and rest.” Abby said.

“He’s going to be back from his assignment soon, can I stay the night with you?” You said, biting your lip.

“Absolutely.” Abby said. She brought you back to her room and showed you where everything was. You started to walk toward her bedroom but stopped to say,

“This might sound dumb but can you lay with me?” You asked with your head down. Your mind chastised you for wanting affection, being so needy as to ask. But Abby wasn’t like him.

“Of course, whatever you need.” She said following you into bed. Slipping off her shoes, she laid next you hooking her strong arm around your waist and holding you close. Using her other hand, Abby stroked your hair and admired you. You looked so peaceful sleeping. It wasn’t long before you both drifted to sleep.

When morning came, Abby awoke to an empty bed and worry started to form in her chest. She looked around for you and her heart dropped again when she realized you must have gone back to where you and your boyfriend lived.

Approaching your door, she winced hearing him yell through the door. Raising her hand to bang on the door she braced herself for what was going on behind the door. You opened the door and her heart broke again. You were disheveled and quite frankly looked like you were about to cry.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“I just didn’t want him to worry when he came home to an empty room. He’s a little upset right now but it’ll be okay.” Abby knew it wouldn’t be okay and forced herself through the doorway. One of the perks of being Issac’s right hand man, no one wanted to fuck with you. He approached the both of you and asked,

“Hey Abby. What’s going on?”

“Nothing… I just wanted to check on the both of you.” His features morphed into a confused expression and you could immediately tell what he was thinking.

“Well everything is fine.” He said grabbing you by your side, pretending you didn’t wince when he did so.

“Do you mind if I grab her for a bit? Just need some help downstairs. Got a few people at the wall.” She lied. There were people at the wall but getting you out was her priority. He looked like he wanted to decline but he couldn’t say no so he reluctantly let you go. Leaving down the hall going into her room she said,

“Did he hit you again? You winced when he grabbed your side.” You looked down to avoid her eyes and she said,

“I think you know what I’m going to say.”

“I don’t know, it’s just a lot and I really do care about him.”

“He tried to strangle you. What if he didn’t stop and he killed you?

“I want to say he would never do that but I can’t. He was always so kind to me, you know? And then all of a sudden he wasn’t. He started to yell at me, and then he started to hit me. I tried talking to him about it but he won’t stop.”

“You realize that that’s abuse right?”

“Yeah but-“

“There are no buts.” Abby said trying to contain her anger. You deserved so much better than that disgusting man.

“But he says he loves me and that I mean the world to him. I can’t give that up.”

“Would you hit someone you love?” She asked.

“Well,” you tried to respond.

“Would you?”

“No.” You said quietly.

“You’re going to have to break up with him then.” She said firmly.

“What if I love him?”

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life with someone who hurts you?”

“No.” You say, your voice getting even smaller.

“Then you know what you need to do. You deserve someone who’ll never even think about putting their hands on you. Never ever.” You smiled a small smile and let your hand interlock with hers.

“I’ll make sure you’ll never see him again, okay?”

“Thank you Abs.”

“Always. Is it okay if I get Mel or Nora for your side?”

“Mel, please.” You said, sitting on her couch.

“Okay.” Abby turned to leave but you stopped her suddenly.

“What happened?”

“Can I show you something?” You said suddenly getting very nervous and picking at the skin on your thumb.

“Yeah, of course.” You nod and start to take off your pants to reveal horrendously dark bruising on your legs going up to your crotch with cuts littering the space. Abby gasped and was so horrified she could cry.

“Oh my god…” You looked down.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll get you all the help you need, okay?” Before you can respond, there is a knock on the door and you jump. You scramble to decide whether to show Mel or not but the look on Abby’s face gives you your answer. You go to talk but you just burst into tears uncontrollably. You slump on the couch and hide your face as she lets Mel in. You look up at Abby and Mel and Mel’s jaw just drops looking at you. You start to cry again as Mel starts to work on your wounds and Abby holds your hand the entire time.

“What happened to her?” Mel asks going to get more supplies. Abby explains and Mel’s face drops. Mel continues to treat your injuries and Abby stays by your side the entire time. When Mel eventually leaves, you and Abby sit in silence for a bit.

“You okay?”

“I will be.” You say as Abby gives you a comforting hug.

“I’m gonna break up with him.” You whisper in her ear still hugging her muscular body.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Thank you. So much. For everything.”

“Still it’s nothing. I love you.” You smile.

“I love you too.” She releases you from her embrace and asks,

“Want to stay here again tonight?”

“Please.”

[thejujvtsupost]

The Weekend is a Blessing

The Prompt List is popular and so is Nanami today! A little drabble for prompts #6 and #30 coming up. Thank you to both anons 💗

Notes: GN!reader, fluff, sfw pillow talk, teasing, really cute tbh, Nanami works too much, post Shibuya incident - everyone lived.

Your loving husband of just under a year came home as he usually does: exhausted and his cursed energy run down.

The amount of times Nanami’s been called in for missions in the last two months has increased significantly from the Shibuya incident. This would be his first weekend off in ages and you planned on doing absolutely nothing but sleeping and relaxing together. It was exactly what he needed to refresh his energy after working so hard.

Nanami entered your shared bedroom with his hands already fumbling with his buttons, his entire body screamed sleep deprivation and you turned down the tv you had on for background noise. You struggled to sleep without your husband by your side and often waited for him to get home.

“Kento? Do you need help?” Sympathy rattled in your chest for your husband who was still adjusting to the nerve damage and numbness in his arm. Shoko was talented and reduced the damage and scarring to his arm, but even she couldn’t fix everything.

Still, you were lucky he was alive. So lucky.

“No love, but thank you. Just give me a minute and I’ll be right there.”

Sometimes Nanami had to ground himself before he could spiral into a fit of self doubt. He knew you couldn’t sleep without him and he was unable to finish his work at a normal time to be with you at night.

You worked at the school with much more regular hours, hours that started early and often ended when Nanami was on assignment.

You ignored him, got out from beneath the covers and took over unbuttoning his shirt. There were fresh bruises forming on his cheek and chest but he wouldn’t let you do anything about it until morning. “You are so stubborn.”

“And you’re impatient.”

You both smiled at each other’s teasing, Kento, as serious as he could be at times, wasn’t afraid to be a menace. His clothes were quickly dropped into the hamper before you both got comfortable in bed.

“Can you blame me? My husband is home.” Your head found its way onto his chest as always and soon your limbs were tangled together.

Nanami hummed, “I’m sorry for being so late, mission ended up being more difficult than expected. Yuuji did well though, he handles pain better than most.”

“Yuuji’s hurt?” You immediately sat up- well, tried to but Nanami held you down. “He’s fine, darling. Barely a scratch.”

Yuuji was important to both of you, all of your students held a special place in your heart but Yuuji… Yuuji had no real family left. “Promise?”

“I promise.” Nanami kissed your lips, then your forehead and it wasn’t long before you were both fast asleep, unable to keep your eyes open.

You’ll check on Yuuji in the morning.

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open!

[thomas-life]

I wrote and @drksanctuary drew the chapter image for my Fluffy Coffee Shop AU Oneshot. its just short and cute. i hope you enjoy!

 A Nicobaster Coffee Shop AU with notes of ReyRae.

Hazel opens up a coffee shop and Nico is helping her out by working at it while she is still hiring staff. He meets the local union rep Alabaster Torrington...

Hidden Gem Cafe

“Well don’t you look chipper.”

Nico huffs and glares in the direction of one Rachel Elizabeth Dare.  She looks entirely too well put together with her red curls in a pony tail and black apron around her waist. The coffee shop door clinks closed behind him and he locks it. They don’t open for another 30 minutes.

“Some of us,” Nico replies, “aren’t born to be Baristas.”

Rachel snorts at his attempt at insulting her. “You’re just grumpy because you’re used to waking up at noon, and we both know it.” She pats his shoulder sympathetically as he passes. “You really will do anything for your sisters.”

Nico grunts. The clock on the break room wall reads 4:30 a.m.

Who in their right mind would ever willingly be up this early in the morning for coffee?  He emerges with his apron tied around his hips and eyeliner applied in hopes that the bags under his eyes don’t show too starkly. Rachel is preparing the drip coffee canisters and Nico starts on the pastry display case.  He’s a little surprised that Hazel hasn’t show up, but according to his text string she had barely managed to get to bed around 2 am, anxious as she was for the Hidden Gem Café’s Grand Opening. 

Nico opens the doors right on time, Rachel humming behind the counter. He can’t help but yawn. “Why are you like this.” He deadpans. He has no energy in his entire body and she laughs at him.

“The trick,” she side whispers like it’s some big secret, “ –is that I never went to sleep in the first place!” She sing songs the rest, and Nico can’t help but realize…Rachel is delusional.

He groans and makes a cup of coffee with creamer and four sugars. He might as well take advantage, and coffee really is mostly a way he uses to get sugar into his system. He takes a large swig as the door chimes and Hazel’s first ever customer enters.

The man that enters is tall and looks a little frantic. Nico tries to smile but it doesn’t come naturally, so he settles on a bemused expression as the man approaches the counter, his dress shoes clicking along the vinyl flooring. “Hey,” Nico wonders if that was too casual of a greeting but proceeds, as it’s too early to be self-conscious. “What can I get you?” The man’s squinting at the menu on the wall behind the counter, freckles scrunching on his nose; He seems almost startled to be addressed at all.

“Oh- ah,” He clears his throat looking vaguely apologetic and he ruffles his light brown hair. “Do you sell large travel containers of coffee?”

Nico nods, “We’re not busy, so we can make you one, but it will take some time. It’s $30 plus tax.”

The man brightens, “Perfect. I’ll also get a small coffee and…” he looks at the pastry display case, “One of those lemon poppy seed muffins.” A smile flashes across his face and Nico can’t help but think the man is handsome.

“You got it.” Nico winks at him, and blames it on how sleep deprived he is; he can feel the sugar and caffeine starting to work through his blood stream,  “Name for the order?”

“Alabaster.”

Alabaster sounds a little strained…Maybe I shouldn’t have winked at him. Nico thinks as he writes the name on a small cup. He looks up to see Alabaster blushing and holding his hand against the bottom half of his face. Or maybe I should do it again… Nico reconsiders, his mood sufficiently boosted. He fills the small cup himself since Rachel is working on the traveler and grabs the muffin as Alabaster inserts his credit card to pay. He looks at the other pastries in the case and grabs a cookie.

He hands both over to Alabaster. “Here’s something sweet... For being our first customer at our Grand Opening.”

Alabaster flushes again and takes them. “Thank you. I do appreciate you accommodating me.”

“Anytime.” Nico responds; This time the smile comes easily. “Enjoy your coffee. You’re traveler will be ready in a couple minutes.”

Alabaster nods and settles down at a table, taking his traveler when it’s finished, waving at Nico as he leaves.

Nico hopes he comes again.

-------

“You’re telling me you fell in love at first sight with a barista, and now you go two cities over every Monday morning just to see him?” Reyna sounds incredulous and when she says it like that, Alabaster can’t help but agree. It does sound ridiculous.

“-And the Coffee!” he rushes to justify. “Not just the Barista, Reyna. The coffee too. There’s a reason it’s called Hidden Gem- And it wasn’t at first sight!” he defends himself.

Reyna scoffs at him as they get out of the car. It’s a rare Friday off and he had insisted they come to this location for coffee. Reyna won’t deny she’s intrigued, and she’s not actually all that bothered. It’s not every day she gets to tease Alabaster C. Torrington about having a crush.

It didn't hurt that and he’d brought her some of their coffee a couple weeks ago. It really was much better than any of the popular chains they had around the office. She can’t help but tease a little more. “So when are you going to actually ask him on a date?”

Alabaster looks at her, a scandalized expression on his face. “Ask him out? While he’s at work??” His tone drips with derision, “ oh yes, that what everyone wants. For some random customer to ask them out on a date while their just working their shift.”

Reyna laughs and elbows him. “I thought you said he was flirting with you .”

Alabaster puffs out one cheek, “I believe I said I wasn’t sure if he was flirting with me. And I don’t want to be a creep. Or make him feel uncomfortable. Or ruin everything. What if I can never come back to his place because I fucked it all up?! That would be the absolute worst…” He looks regretful, “I’d have to go back to regular coffee and we both know that would be awful. I’m too pampered now.”

Reyna opens the door to Hidden Gem Café. The place is nice; plenty of space seating with personal touches that make the space welcoming and homey. There’s a mural on the wall next to the seating area she can’t help but admire. It really would be a terrible loss if Alabaster could never come here again.

A man’s voice greets them as they approach the counter, and Reyna can see why Alabaster, their number one union organizer, who has nerves of steel when negotiating with greedy executives, has been acting like a teenager: Dark hair and eyes, muscled forearms, eyeliner and earrings…just Alabaster’s type.  He keeps glancing at her with a subtly perturbed expression, and it takes her a moment to realize- she smirks. That is crestfallen expression someone that thinks we are dating.

She nudges Alabaster, hoping he will take her hint, but he’s too engrossed in chatting with Nico to notice to subtle signs of distress. She’s almost worried Nico will get the wrong idea.

Nico gestures to her, looking at Alabaster with intensity. “Is she you’re girlfriend?”

Alabaster almost chokes on his own saliva as he’s in such a rush to say ‘No’.  “Absolutely. Not.” Alabaster confirms.

Reyna likes straightforward people, and she likes Nico even more for his blunt attitude. That will save them a lot of drama down the road.  “We’re just friends.” She seconds, “And besides, you’re co-worker is more my type anyway.” She smiles winningly at the red-head behind the counter who grins back at her and gestures to Nico and Alabaster with a shrug that communicated “what can you do?”

Reyna moves to the side, waiting at the pickup counter for their coffee order. Rachel approaches with two drinks and hands them to her. “Were you serious about me being your type?” she asks, looking honestly curious, “-because I’m available.”

Alabaster chuckles nervously as Reyna walks away and looks back at Nico who appears relieved. He hopes he isn’t reading too much into that. “Honestly. She’s just a good friend.”

Nico nods, and rings up their order, debating if he should ask… more. It’s been a while since they first met, and Nico always gets butterflies on the days when Alabaster comes in. “You know,” he starts, and decides to barrel on with it, “I get off shift today in an hour … are you free after that? I know a good Italian place that serves a really good lunch menu.” He hears Alabaster audibly take a breath. “Yes!” Alabaster’s voice can be heard very clearly over the background noise of people and music. “ah- I mean. Yes.” He returns to a normal volume, “I would love…that.” He can’t stop grinning from ear to ear. “I would really really like that.”

The End

@them-awesome-rarepairs

[imfromthemiddlekingdom]

I have so much feels regarding Miriel and Feanor. If my mother, whom I love dearly and gave her life for me to live, were stated as being allowed to be reembodied but the only thing standing in her way of being able to is the fact that my father was a horny pos who wanted to fuck this blond bimbo and have babies with her, therefore depriving my mother of her chance at life FOREVER. I too would be resentful and full of hate for anything and everything that represented their Union and my mothers sundering from me.

Finwe and Indis are both in the wrong. He was so young when they wed and had Findis, he barely had time to process his mothers death, however temporary it may have been for an elf in Valinor, but then his dad went “hey so uh, I really want to have more kids and in order for me to do that your mother would have to stay dead forever! YOLO!” I would feel so much resentment not only to him but the other person who was responsible for this. He obviously couldn’t blame his dad, the only living parent he has, so he projects all his loathing and resentment of his father to Indis and her children and their children afterwards. Because how can he hate the last living parent he has when there’s a perfectly good target for all that pent up rage within sight that would not make him an orphan twice over?

You might object by saying that “one year of the year if the trees is like 10 sun years!!! He was perfectly grown!!! He should get over it!!!” But I ask you. How would you feel if your mother, who you either never had a chance to know or knew only sparingly when she was bed ridden died and your father took away her chance of being reunited with you? My father died of his own folly and stupidity and still I miss him to this day, if I lost my mother too I would be devistated beyond words, and we’re HUMAN. We know we only have one shot at life and no chance of reuniting with those who’ve passed on in our life time, but with elves, they can be reborn. They know that death is only temporary. So when your mother died you think to yourself, “I’ll just wait for her to feel better and then she can come back to me and father and we’ll be a family together again!” And that choice is taken from you, your mothers body, which was resting in the gardens or Lorien, is then gone and you now cannot even pretend that she is merely sleeping.

As far as I know, no living souls may visit the dead in the Halls, he no longer can hold his mothers hands and can no longer pretend that she is there, she was so sick when she passed that asking her to make a choice that would affect her for the rest of eternity isn’t the way to go. I suffer from severe depression, and in bad days I think I would be better if dead, and if I had lost my will to live and some godly being demanded that I make a choice right this moment(!!!) to return to life or be forever dead, I would have chosen to remain dead since I cannot think of why living would be better. To put so much pressure on a dead woman, who may or may not have died due to  postpartum depression, is not the way to go in any situation where Finwe may have wanted to get a divorce or have more kids.

Elves are immortal, they do not die, why can’t Finwe not wait for who was supposed to be the love of his life? Why did Indis, a supposed friend of Miriels, decide that her getting her happily ever after is worth sundering her FRIEND from her son forever? Why does Indis get her happily ever after and Miriel does not? I can see why Feanor would be so against Indis and her children because under similar circumstances I would have been the same, seeing others get what was promised to me, in the blessed lands where everything was supposed to be BETTER and not getting it anyways is a recipe of disaster.

I do not feel any sympathy for Indis, not really, not when she willingly deprived her stepson of a chance for a mother, not when she willingly agreed to have kids with someone knowing that one of his kids would never have that fea bond with his mother ever again. I cannot sympathize with her selfish desire for dick, not when it hurt a child, which was what Feanor was.

I cannot imagine how Feanor might’ve felt seeing his half siblings with their mother and feeling that gaping hole in his soul knowing that I order for them to exist his mother is gone forever. To look at his brothers and sisters and see what may have been if his mother didn’t put so much of her into him, and feeling so guilty that “if only I didn’t exist my mother would still be alive”. To have it rubbed in his face, no matter how unintentionally, by his father and his new wife when Findis was a newborn that, maybe just maybe, some of the rumors are right and that him and his mother truly are marred because Indis bore a child successfully without dying so there MUST be something wrong with them.

To have that reminder of your mothers death constantly for years and have your father be so happy with his new family that it seems like he’s forgetting all your mother represented, to have the Noldor replace your mother, one of the people who represented what the Noldor are, with one of those golden Vanya princess, is unimaginable to me.

Maybe it’s a personal character flaw of myself but if I were in Feanors shoes I may have done something worse than pull a sword of my half brother when he was trying to convince my only surviving parent to disavow me.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Oh em gee :,( ari :,( thank you for yapping at me…………. My brain juices started flowing…….. I knew all I needed was some of your ideas…,,, and the little hamsters in my brain started running around again!!!!!!!!!!! Ik u said don’t feel bad for sending asks but…. I feel a little guilty sending another one….. but the brain hamsters started working and I can’t deprive them of spreading their little hamster ideas 😔😔 BUT ALSO??? I NEED TO TALK ABT HOW U REPLIED TO MY PREV ASK. THEM TALKING WHEN UR SLEEPING??? AND MAYBE?? YOU SECRETLY HEARING??? IM GOING INSANEEEEEEE IM LITERALLY DISINTEGRATING AS WE SPEAK :((( satoru wanting to confess bc he doesn’t want u sad over ur ex……… sugu convincing him they shouldn’t rush u…….. :( sobs… they r so special to me. imagine what would happen if u just sat up in the middle of them talking like “🤨🤨I heard all of that btw.” but like. What do you think they’d do if your ex did try getting back together with you? Either that or just trying to get back into contact ……. Just an idea :3 giggles…. N E WAYS I HOPE UR HAVING A WONDERFUL DAY SLASH NIGHT!!! MWUA MWUA TAKE CARE AND DRINK UR WATER !!!! ^_^ — stsg anon 💐 < with bouquet. For u!!! :3

STSG ANON !!!!!! i’m telling you our brains are synced…… every time ur brain juices flow mine do too……… i’m so happy your little brain hamsters r running around 🐹🐹🐹

okok first of all ….. NEVERRRRR feel guilty for sending me asks 🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫 never ever ever!!!! i love them so much!!!!! even if i’m slow at replying sometimes i promise i read them instantly and they always feed me so good!!!!!!! i should literally be paying you for these that’s how much i love them. if i catch u feeling guilty again there Will be consequences so watch out …. (ominous)…..

BUTTTT ok :3 YES . THE STSG IDEAS. i’m so happy you liked my little brainworms phdkdjj i just!!!! think it’s a tasty concept!!!!!! and PLSSS reader just sitting up and calling them out 😭😭 i KNOW they’d scream . even sugu does a little squeak bc he was so convinced you were asleep…… but goddd i think they’d actually be a little flustered <//3 our babies. once they recover satoru would be so smug tho. bc now you finally know!!! he doesn’t have to wait!!!!! and sugu is obv very happy too….

but… gahhh…… STSG ANON ………. if your ex tried getting back with you………….. ohhhh gosh. they’d be very offended . on your behalf . in a ”can you believe the audacity” way ….. but ofc they’d also be very furious and protective . like. maybe you tell them that your ex texted you wanting to meet up and they’re both INSTANTLY on guard…. ideally you’d block them ofc but if you insist on meeting them just for the sake of closure then they’re immediately convincing you to let them go with you!!!!! for scary dog priviliege . i’ll be honest i don’t think there’s much your ex could do 😭😭 bc stsg WILL be glaring at them. behind you. and if they even try to lovebomb you or blame you in any way they’re . Stopping Them . in one way or another. i think they get very very scary LMAO sugu stops smiling entirely and satoru smiles in a distinctly furious way 😭😭 ..

but ohhhh ……. if . you were the one who wanted to get back with them ….. then i think stsg would feel so helpless :’3 bc like . they can’t control you. they don’t want to. but i also think they’d rather die than have to watch you be with someone so undeserving…… so i feel like That’s when they’d confess. bc they’re so desperate . and let’s be honest who would choose a cheating ex over stsg????? no one <33333 problem solved. they’d be really terrified though…..

MWAHHHH one big kiss for you my lovely little stsg anon <33333 i’m putting the bouquet in a big beautiful vase <33333333 here r some handpicked flowers just for you :33 🌷🪻🌻🌷🪻🌻 i hope you’re taking good care of yourself too!!!! eating and drinking and sleeping lots . it’s what me and stsg want for you!!!!!! thank you as always for the food i hope u know how much i adore you <333

[riddle-me-ri]

Hello! Congratulations on 500 followers!! It is I; the sleep deprived anon. Got a slightly better schedule now. Doc literally prescribed me less work and more sleep, but that was mostly because I hit my head under a desk and got a minor concussion.

Anyway, I hope you’re taking more time for yourself! Your writing is fantastic as always, and I’m really happy for you 😊

If I may, can I request something for your event with Gotham City Sirens Riddler? I have so many thoughts about this man and not enough brainpower to express it. If I had to pick one from your list, I’d go for a first date night drabble with a large side of fluff and a medium soda.

Night night! Congrats again!

A/N: Hey there sleep deprived anon! Ouch, I’m sorry to hear about your minor concussion! I hope you’re doing much better with your improved schedule! I’ll definitely be taking more time for myself soon! Thanks so much, I’m glad you think my writing is fantastic! That means a lot! Ohhh yes, Gotham City Sirens Riddler my beloved, P.I. Riddler, I can absolutely do that for you!

Word Count: 541

Gotham City Sirens Riddler - First Date Night

When Edward offered to buy dinner one night, you couldn't say no. 

Yet, you couldn't help but ponder over if…it's a date or not?

It definitely gave off..date vibes? You dressed formally, as was Edward sitting in front of you. He even wore a different suit that was a richer forest green than the bright one he wore at work. 

The restaurant you were at was…no hole in the wall either. There were chandeliers spaced throughout the ceiling. Fine linen decorated the tables accented with a candelabra in the middle of each. 

Your instincts were telling you that this was a date, but you didn't want to read too much into it either.

Edward cleared his throat and that somehow broke you out of your reverie.

"A penny for your thoughts?" 

You ought to just ask. Be upfront…

"I'm just curious as to why…you wanted to get dinner? Not-not that I don't mind! I'm just…" 

"You want to know if this is a date?" 

You gulped. Were you really that obvious? Perhaps, he was wondering the same thing. 

You simply nodded, worried you would incriminate yourself somehow more if you spoke. 

“I wanted to do something…to show my gratitude. I know I’m not the easiest man to work for, nor always the most pleasant but…I do appreciate your effort and…while I could do things myself. You have helped make running a small investigation firm much easier.” 

All of a sudden you wanted to throw up the piece of the dish you tried to eat. How stupid you were to even consider-

“But I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope for something to prosper from this…” 

Wait, what?

“W-Wait you mean?” 

Edward smiled softly. “I mean it when I say I don’t know where I would be or what I would do without you. I know I don’t show it…I know I don’t say it enough. But…this reform of mine. I knew it was going to be difficult, it would be hard for anyone to believe it.” 

He continued. “Then you answered my riddle in my job ad for the office assistant position. And you fearlessly…didn’t care. Whatever I handed to you, you…dealt with…with complaints I’m sure.”

You guffawed. “Yeah, no, I…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t curse your name, your birth, your mom maybe..”

“Mm-hm.” 

“Sorry.” 

Edward chuckled. “Don’t be. I, again, don’t blame you. But, you could have left at any point. You could have gotten up and quit. And, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Ed reached his hand out and gently placed it over yours. 

“You…you’ve stayed. In this crazy city, full of gods, goddesses, villains, and heroes…you stuck by me, an ex-rogue turned detective.”

You placed your other hand over Edward’s and held it, running your thumb over his knuckles. “There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck to. Although, I’d argue you’re stuck with me than vice versa.” 

Edward laughed. “That may be the case on some days. Much like you said, I couldn’t imagine a better person to be with. If you choose to take this…relationship further?” 

You smiled, eyes widened in excitement. Your fingers slowly interlocked with his. 

“This is starting to be an amazing first date, Eddie.” You winked.