#MEEPS BACK AT THE WORKS...

[madzillus]

Just a silly little guy!! Nothing to see here

[ii-meeple-confessions]

hey. what if (<- malicious intent)

postcanon ii/bfdi crossover AU where MePhone goes to see Two and they go !!! you're hurt!! :( and uhhh something something Two ends up fixing mp4's screen

also what if this was supposed to be a "let me introduce you to 3gs" meetup and so Two fixes 3gs's screen also (optional bc they haven't met prior but hey)

and then. Two, feeling helpful, asks if there's anyone else with a damaged screen. another of MePhone's friends perhaps. someone he cares about. someone th- [I am flattened by a comically large mallet]

I was reading this and going awww awwww!!! So sweet!!! Up until the end. Ow. Ow. Owwwww…. 💔💔💔

Two fixing the screens of the meeps… so sweet… but then you. Then you did that. Owww… 💔💔

We all want that purple/magenta/pink/whatever color you think he is tablet back don’t we 💔💔💔💔 (including me… I also want him back 💔)

[my-reputation-precedes-me]

just played work at a pizza place on roblox again and the nostalgia is hitting so hard i’m probably gonna cry myself to sleep

[teaboot]

Its been a rough couple days out here so I'm writing a list of things I love about my son

(who is cat)

His dumb little face

His pretty yellow eyes

Every day when I get home the FIRST thing that happens is I scoop him up into my arms like a big baby and he let's me rub his tumtum for a whole two minutes!! Before returning to Bite Mode

The SECOND thing that happens is he gets the zoomies! When his father returns from work he goes SNUGGLE! then zooooooom. Because he is excited for me to play with him!!

When I play computer games he likes to feel included so even though he isn't normally very touchy he lets me scoop him up in one arm so he can sit there like a toddler and watch the screen

He trusts me SO much like if he wants up on a shelf or down off something tall I can just walk over and kneel and he'll crawl up or down me like a ladder and I've never had a cat do that before

He'll ride around on my shoulders when I take him out for walks which van be tricky now that he's big but he's so brave even when we pass a dog

Sometimes when I go to run his chin he gets SO EXCITED he'll jam his nose into my palm and smush it hard like he's trying to burrow a hole in the ground and it's adorable

He loves water-appliances? Like sinks and toilets and baths and such. He gets SO excited every time I turn on a faucet, he'll rush over and get as close as he can to watch without getting wet.

His favourite part of the whole house is the bathtub and whenever I take a bath he'll drape himself over the side and lounge there until I get out. He's not allowed in when I'm using the toilet but once I'm done I open the door to leave and he rushes in to check if I've been taking a secret bath without him, goes straight to the tub

In trying to teach him not to bite me, he has learned that he IS allowed to bite blankets. So if he really, really wants to play and I'm ignoring him, he'll bite me blankets and whip them around like a puppy playing tug-of-war.

If I'm ignoring him because I am ALSEEP, this sometimes results in me waking up because he has successfully pulled my blankets off of me.

He likes watching trucks. He'll sit in the window and watch traffic but if he hears a loud engine he'll RUSH to check it out.

When he was a baby, my brother would visit in the afternoons to feed and play with him while I was working. As a result, he loves his uncle more than me, and will allow constant tummy rubs

Because my brothers and I do family movie night at my place, and because he loves his uncles so much, he lights up whenever the doorbell rings and MUST greet visitors at the door.

Sometimes he tries to climb up a door by hugging the edge and jumping as high as he can. It has never worked but he still keeps trying. I think he just likes sliding down like it's a firepole.

He is obsessed with the smell of McDonalds french fries. He doesn't try to eat them, he just wants the box. There us currently one under my bed that I'm not allowed to throw away. I can hear him jamming his face into it right now.

Sometimes when he's curious about something I'm doing- eating, drinking, washing up, whatever- I'll let him sniff, and I'll just hear two or three strongass HUFF. HUFF sounds before he goes back to chilling. It's the cutest shit.

He's soft like the luxurious wild mink

His littol baby FEETSIES

Sometimes he stops grooming himself and forgets his tongue is sticking out

His laser toy has a keychain attachment that jingles so whenever he hears a metallic jingle like that he thinks it's playtime

when I wash my face in the bathroom in the morning he hops on top of the toilet tank and starts grooming himself like "Oh hey I guess it's EVERYBODY'S bath time okay"

He's chatty and will meep back and forth with me

He has a round little wicker nest bed on a pedestal in my room and he likes to climb inside at night and make biscuits on the cushion while he sucks on the corner and it makes me wanna cry he's such a big baby

He will not wake me up for breakfast but as soon as I move in thevmorning he'll hop up onto my chest and stare at me. If I take too long to get up he'll meep in my face and then bounce back and forth between me and the door until I'm up.

Once I AM up, he will circle me and continue chirping until I ask him if it is time for dinner. Dinner, as far as he knows, is the only word for food. As soon as I ask, "is it dinner time?" He will zoom to the kitchen like a bat out of he'll and wait beside his bowl.

He genuinely seems to enjoy walkies and will climb into his carrier if he thinks we're going somewhere

Soketimes he'll pick up one of his toys and trot around with it like he's showing it off and I swear to God every time it makes me wanna make the most embarrassing noises

Him son ♡

[s-4pphics]

gift basket (e.w.)

kinda cont. to this :3 meep

wc;cw: 1.6k, return of pothead!ellie and her pothead gf, weed duh, parties, mention of psychs but no actual psychs lol, fluff… UNHEARD OF, flirting and a lil sexual tension, something quick bc i miss her fr

“you tryna do acid?” you call from ellie’s small dining table, rolling up for the two of you. ellie’s attention is yanked from her device, gawking from where she sits on the couch, decked in her usual party attire: all black everything from head to toe. “the fuck did you just say?” 

“you tryna do acid?” you repeat, sealing the blunt. ellie’s eyes flick around the living room, jolting down to the blunt in your hand before they lock with yours. 

“. . . why the fuck would i do that before a party?” ellie snorts, removing and tossing her reading glasses on the coffee table before returning back to some annoying show about a blue cat with bunny for a sister. neither of you are high yet and she’s already in hysterics, wildly cackling and shoveling parmesan goldfish in her mouth.

ellie.  .  . oh, ellie. 

why won’t she fucking touch you? 

after your intense smoke session on pothead christmas, your relationship has gotten strange. not strange in a bad way; she never hesitates to invite you over to spark up, pick you up for late night drives, have study sessions (where she watches you study with eyes tinted pink). everything is exactly the same, but you don’t want it to be. 

it’s been a month since she smoked you out and rambled about her sex life, since you asked — begged her to kiss you. at this point, you would accept a fucking peck, for sucks sake! but she brushes you off every time, pushes you right back into that best friend box after every hot box. you’ve given her every sign to put it down on you, and she’s receptive. the stares she gives you, the lingering touches, the seemingly doting affection that shines beneath her pupils. it’s all there and. . . not at the same time. 

but here you are again. igniting her fucking bud before you roll out to another frat house. being high and horny simultaneously is your greatest weakness. . . especially when your little crush looks this fucking good. 

“you’re so far away.” ellie lures gently from the cushions, “c’meeere, i’m cold.” 

“. . . it’s almost june.” you note flatly. she rolls her eyes and blows a raspberry, climbing over the back of the couch and sliding in next to you, eyes glued to your working hands. she pinches the blunt between her thumb and index finger. “it’s fat as fuck, jesus christ.” she mumbles in amazement. fucking geek. 

“it’s yours. say thank you.” ellie gasps in delight and throws her arms around your neck, bending down to smack kisses on your cheek, mumbling thank you, thank you, thank you! you can’t hide your smile when you throw hers in your little baggie before shoving it in her front pocket. you pat it for good luck. “don’t crush them like you did last time. i’m gonna be hot,” you scold lightly and ellie smirks against your cheek. 

“i dunno. you’re pretty hot already.” she purrs against your face. you push her away and she giggles, jogging to get her shoes on. you follow in her lead and lace up, praying to god that she doesn’t sit on the fucking bag in the uber. 

ellie can’t stop staring at this fucking lava lamp. 

it’s gorgeous, really. . . the bright colors, the holographic glitter, the fucking. . . clay balls. are they clay? they look like stress toys floating around in uncooked egg whites that've been injected with fairy vomit—

“ellie!” 

she feels like she’s underwater, but not in a drowning, i’m-gonna-die way. she feels like a mermaid as she searches the room at your call, tunnel vision centering on every drunk face until she finds yours. you're actually right in front of where she sits on the love seat. . . right in front of someone else. . . who’s directly behind you. . . who the fuck is that? 

your brows are pulled down in concern as you shout over the blaring music, asking her if she feels okay, if she wants to leave, but she’s not focused on none of that. . . her high is about to go left in a second if this bitch doesn’t stop squeezing your ass. ellie sends you an affirming look even though her blood is sizzling beneath her skin and you nod in acknowledgement, returning your attention back to whoever you’re throwing it on. 

. . . would it be fucked up if she busted this lava lamp over this broad’s head? she doesn’t think so. 

she barely registers it. the small display in front of her is nauseating. ellie’s known you forever, and never once have you accepted a rip from somebody you didn’t know. . . so why the fuck are you ripping from a bitch you don’t know? the end of the blunt sparks a bright orange with your heavy puff, the carbon you didn’t inhale ghosting in front of your mouth. smoke leaves through your nose as you giggle, the fucking. . . bum whispering something in your ear with a tight squeeze on your waist. 

you’re shaking your head like you like it, like you’re approving of this fuckery and ellie almost vomits. she stands too quickly for her legs because she plops back down like an utter buffoon, the world spinning like a pinball. her arms extend as she searches for balance while sitting and—

whatever the fuck she was going to say vanishes when your hands come down on her shoulders, comfortingly squeezing them through her sweaty shirt. softly. ellie turns to mush as she tries to read your lips. . . maybe she shouldn’t do that; it looks like you’re saying don’t be gay. . . but ellie is gay and so are you so how the fuck would that work?

she’s being scooped up by you and. . . yeah, she’s very faded. ellie’s always prided herself in having a high tolerance to the dirty green, but she’s on one tonight. what the fuck did you put in that shit? is this why you asked her to do acid earlier? because you laced her shit? she can feel her palms getting clammy as you walk her down a dark ass hallway. . . if she had that lava lamp, maybe she could see—

a door slams shut and a lock clicks. it’s suddenly bright. ellie’s convinced she made it to heaven. . . especially when her vision focuses and she’s met with the angel that you are, eyes sparkly and twinkling like fairies in a meadow. god let her in the pearly gates. . . 

“you okay, baby? needa throw up?” your hand is on her cheek, thumb gently massaging the skin. her heart’s singing. ellie’s entranced by you and her skin heats. . . her pussy also skips a beat. a little one-two. 

“. . . baby’s okay.” she mumbles. why is her tongue so heavy? you coo at her, “wanna go home?”

ellie nods, “fuck that bitch you were grindin’ on. hope she breaks her neck. . . or somethin’ crazy, i dunno.” you choke on laughter and pull her in for a gentle hug. ellie’s heavy arms enclose around your waist. tightly. selfishly. 

“you mad i wasn’t grinding on you?” 

“duh! the fuck. . .” she slurs. “i should be grabbing ass, ‘s my. . . s’mine, fuck you.” you’re giggling into her neck and she shoves a hand in your back pocket. 

“you needa bed.” you shake your head. 

“yeah, so i can dig you out in it— “

“ELLIE— “

her laughter is uncontrollable, “yeeeah, you’re fucking mine. no more hoes for you.” 

you’re burning hot when your eyes open. . . because there’s a fucking body on top of you!

you and ellie are slung across the couch cushions, party clothes still on. ellie must’ve been awake for a minute because she sighs, breath hitting your tummy, “did you try to kill me yesterday? be honest.” 

“. . . bitch. . .”

“i’ve never been that high . . . well, that’s not true— “

“exactly.” you snicker, “how long you been up?” 

she holds up her wrist to check her imaginary stopwatch, “approximately. . . three minutes and thirty-fi— six seconds— “

“i fuckin’ hate you. get the fuck off me.” 

“hmm. . . nah, i’m good right here.” 

ellie’s head shifts on your stomach and you know she’s staring up at you, “i needa fucking shower— “

“me, too. with me?” you hear the smile in her tone. you finally gawk down at her. “you’re never hitting my shit again. what’s up with you?” 

her eyes crystallize when she shrugs, “had another dream about giving you head and now i gotta do it. follow your dreams, or whatever they say.” 

your jaw is on the floor and your stomach is in knots. “ellie—“ you gasp. 

“no, i’m not still high, and no i don’t wanna just fuck. kinda obsessed with you if last night wasn’t obvious.” she speaks so casually and it’s giving you whiplash. “i almost committed murder. that’s how pissed i was.” 

“a-at me?” 

ellie’s eyes roll, “oh my god, no. at whoever that freak was from last night. . . i don’t wanna talk about that shit anymore. i have trauma.” 

her tongue rolls over her lips and she eyes you like a vulture to a carcass, “i dunno if you ever used that shower head when you sleep over but. . .  it goes crazy.” her proposal makes you squirm and she smirks, planting a kiss on the skin of your belly. followed by another. . . and another a little lower. 

“you my girl?” she whispers against your skin, staring up at you, tongue poking out just barely to swipe on the plush area. 

“. . . maybe.” you mumble shyly, and ellie’s teeth beam. she sits up to stand and pulls you with her, guiding you out of the living room and down the hallway, into the bathroom. she snags her lighter off the counter and ignites her favorite cinnamon candle, the wick nearly gone. “for ambiance.” she whispers with a grin. 

you unbuckle the belt looped in your jeans, “pulling out the big words, huh?”

“call me thesaurus the way i make that pussy talk.” she expects you to laugh, but you don’t. you almost grab your shit and leave. . . but her laughter sounds like wedding bells. 

“just take your clothes off.” you say dryly. 

-

-

-

SIKKKEEE COCKBLOCK SEASON MERRY NEW YEAR OR WHATEVER HAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAA

[butchreg]

cg ! cassandra kiramman headcanons !!

more specifically mommy ! cassandra with a weepy && clingy regressor who needs some extra reassurance and babying after feeling ashamed after regressing for the first time. requested by 🌠 anon ! i'm not currently taking fic requests so i did headcanons instead. somewhat fic-like but not formatted like one. hope that's okay (￣▽￣||). i may have strayed a bit from what you asked for but meep.. i think it's still pretty close. ^_^;; also i apologize if cassandra is ooc at all , i'm still getting the hang of her character. arcane masterlist here , upcoming list here

after you regress for the first time you feel scared... it's not necessarily a bad feeling but it's just so different , certainly not something you've experienced before. you feel a touch embarrassed and the tears come quickly ; it's not long before you're full on weeping in the middle of the kiramman parlor.

cassandra takes notice immediately , rushing to your side and speaking in a soothing , gentle tone. "whatever is the matter , my sweet ?" you're crying too hard to form words but her comforting words , and a soft hand on your shoulder have you turning around to curl into her , sobbing into her frilly attire.

she gasps , a little taken aback and wholly concerned. she rubs little circles into your back , firm but gentle. she waits a few minutes before pressing you again , offering you a warm cup of tea.

you're feeling rather embarrassed and quite frankly ashamed. why are you feeling this way ? the foggy feeling seems to have hit out of nowhere , clouding your entire brain , entire being. you're not sure how to word the feeling , as you wipe your teary eyes , accepting the offer of tea if only to distract her , bide your time to think up what to tell her.

when she comes back with the tea , she gives you a long worried look. "come , poppet. you're shaking. can you manage your tea by yourself ?" your face crumples once more at her words. how can she see through you so easily. you mumble incoherently and she stoops next to you.

cassandra gently blows on the tea before she lifts the cup to your lips. "have a sip and then we'll chat , hmm ?" you obediently open your mouth just wide enough to allow some of the warm beverage to trickle onto your tongue. "there , that's nice now , don't you agree ?" you nod slowly , shifting closer to her until you can feel her soft breaths on your skin.

she sits with you , prim and proper yet still gentle and soothing. every so often she'll lift the cup to your lips , making a remark about it's soothing quality or ensuring you'd like more. finally , she reaches up to cup your tearstained cheek. "now , what's got you so worked up ?"

you lean into her touch , swallowing , unable to meet her eyes. "feel..." you take a deep breath. she nods as if giving you permission to go on. "mm... cloudy ," is what you land on. "hmmm ?" she hums , a touch confused. "li'l.." you add in a whisper.

you flinch as if you're afraid of her to strike you but she seems to understand , stroking your cheek with her thumb. when she takes your chin in her hand to get you to look at her , her look is one of sympathy , kindness.

"ahh..." she says knowingly , nodding a bit. "i believe i understand." she explains to you that caitlyn , her own caitlyn had her own moments of ... smallness. you marvel at this , and she chuckles at you , chucking your chin.

"i gather that this is the first time you've felt ... this way ?" she prompts gently and you squirm , hiding your face with your oversized sweater sleeves so she can't see your embarrassed blush. slowly you nod , painfully aware of how silly you must look. you whine a little in spite of yourself.

cassandra coos at you. "i don't believe i can pick you up ," she laments , and you sniffle , once more on the verge of tears. "here ," she says kindly. "take my hand , darling. we'll get you settled , okay ?" you shyly do as your told , nodding along.

you cling to her sleeve , allowing her to aid you. she leads you over to the parlor's grand piano. "have a seat , please love. can you do that for me ?" you obediently take a seat , a bit confused as you don't know how to play.

she calls in one of the servants , whispering in their ear. a curt nod and they're off and her attention is back on you. she sits down next to you , patting her lap. "caitlyn always liked sitting on my lap when she felt .. younger ," she tells you , a smile coming to her face in remembrance. "i thought you might like it as well."

you climb into her lap curling into her chest as she soothingly whispers words of reassurance in your ear. "you let me know just what you need , sweetheart. mummy's here."

she rubs your back until the servant comes back. strangely enough he carries an oversize plush bear , handing it gingerly to cassandra. with a nod he is dismissed and you look with surprise and eagerness at the bear. one of caitlyn's. you hug the bear tightly.

"i don't think my caiti would mind a bit," cassandra whispers , kissing the top of your head. she flexes her fingers eyeing the piano. "you know... i used to play as a girl ," she confesses , casting a sideways glance at you. "i could play a bit if you'd like."

you nod cautiously , melting into her side as she begins to play a soft sweet song. she continuously checks in on you , ensuring you're still comfortable and awake. she's rather good and you're perfectly content to stay there forever.

[hooter-n-company]

Some more recent art I made of Bubba for @twistedtummies2's birthday, starring his 'sona Rochak in a rather precarious position. He's rather fond of the giant swamp beast (in his own timid, blushy way), and Bubba feels the same...albeit in a much, MUCH more possessive sense. Blame the lil' guy for being such an amazing cook...and for tasting so damn good himself. XD

TT2 also wrote a wonderful little blurb to go along with the image, which I have attached below. Go check out the other stuff he's written, he's got a TON on his page!

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

“Mmmmaaaaaaaahhhhhh…”

Rochak blinked his green eyes a couple times, as light stung them and saliva dripped onto his lids. He watched as the long, slimy, sticky, serpentine tongue that slathered and slithered under his chin stretched out, its goopy tip dexterously clamped around the brim of his beloved top hat.

He whimpered; he tried to wiggle, but the powerful peristaltic muscles that held everything from his chest downwards didn’t offer much room to move around. He was cocooned in rippling, pulsing flesh; slippery enough to let him slide downwards without much issue, but strong enough to keep him from going anywhere they didn’t want him to go.

A keening, flustered, frightened sound left the human. Hot, damp breath that smelled like a dead marsh flowed up and around him; they only intensified the blush upon his face, even as he felt himself trembling impulsively in the craw of his consumer. He tried to speak a couple times, to no avail. Either the words just wouldn’t come, choked in the back of his own throat, his lungs working overtime to keep him from passing out…or, when they DID start to leave his little lips, the tongue would roll and buck under him, slicking his face and making him sputter, and very nearly pushing him down the gullet that greedily waiting to gulp him down completely.

Bubba rumbled with pleasure, his grin wide and jagged. To any random observer, it would have seemed truly wicked…but it really wasn’t a look of evil. Simply of mischief.

Of course, you had to know the river beast well to know that, and the swamp-dwelling predator typically only got people acquainted with one part of him: his endlessly gluttonous guts.

Rochak would be one of the few to go down into those guts and come out again alive…but the carnivorous amphibian didn’t need to TELL him that, did he? After all, feeling his scared little heartbeat pitter-patter against his insides was just MUCH too entertaining to pass up.

With a deep, devilish chortle, the swamp swallower stretched his maw just a tad wider. He rubbed his upper belly with his webbed forelimbs, as he allowed his little pet one last look at the world outside.

The human WOULD see it all again…but not for several long, dark, smelly, sludge-coated hours.

Rochak let out a soft “meep!” as the glutton’s belly bellowed needily below his toes. Bubba could feel his heartbeat kick up a notch, and sensed more than simply fear in the little man’s heart. Deviously, Bubba wondered: by the time he got out of his belly…would the squeaky little swamp mouse even WANT to be free?

He shrugged. Ah, well. It really didn’t matter, did it?

The jaws finally snapped shut…and down the hatch the little rodent went.

GUUULLLP!

“BEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLCH! Ahhhh…tastes like Mama’s chicken! Heh heh heh…”

[ducksido]

Haii! Im here to bother u again😝😝😝😝😝 okay imagine this, Idia🤤 with a gothic reader who hates the outside world as much as Idia does, so they also attend school as a magical crow (Brian for once working🤭), okay basically it’s just a regular day, reader’s crow is listening to the alchemy lesson when the one day Idia pops up in class, someone in the class makes a potion explode and now Idia ´s a cat (uno reverse) so Idia runs to reader and reader in all their gothic calm amazing glory takes care of kitty Idia yayayayayayayayayyayayayayayayayayayyayayayayayyyayayayayaayyayayayayayayayayayayayayaayayayayayyaayayayyayay

The alchemy room buzzes with cauldrons boiling and students pretending to care. Perched high on a wooden beam, your glossy black feathers shimmer in the low candlelight. As a magical crow, you blend in with the shadows, watching the chaos below with passive disinterest. Grim often mutters about being replaced as NRC’s main animal companion—but he couldn’t match your gothic elegance if he tried.

You hated the outside world. Too loud, too bright, too peppy. So this crow form was your perfect out—quiet, hidden, detached from the expectations of socializing, and conveniently skipping the need for group projects. Professor Crewel let it slide, mostly because you always aced the theory work and also possibly because you once stared him down in your human form for too long without blinking.

But today was... different.

The door creaked open. Heads turned. You cocked your feathery head, mildly intrigued.

Idia Shroud had entered the classroom.

In the flesh.

Not via tablet. Not via hologram. Physically there.

He was hunched over, hoodie up, practically blending into the shadows like you usually did. Your feathers ruffled slightly. What was he doing here? Did he lose a bet?

But the answer would come sooner than expected.

Some half-witted alchemy student added powdered phoenix feather instead of fire salamander scale. There was a flash, a BANG, and then—

“MEOW??!”

The smoke cleared. The class gasped.

On the floor, where Idia had once stood, was now a fluffball of cursed adorableness.

A Selkirk Rex cat with messy, curly fur like a ball of smoke—tinted an ethereal indigo-blue and licked with ghostly flame along the tufts. His wide yellow eyes flicked around in horror, and his little kitty mouth opened to yowl—

But then he bolted.

Straight up the walls. Straight across beams.

Straight into you.

He barreled into your crow form like a flame-furred comet, and you flapped slightly in surprise before steadying. Idia—now a magical blue flame cat—clung to your side like his life depended on it.

A pause.

He blinked up at you with wide, panicked eyes.

You blinked back, slow and calm.

Then, still in your crow form, you gave a low, throaty caw of “sigh.” The universal goth noise of “I guess I’m handling this now.”

With eerie grace, you fluttered down to the floor and shifted back into your human form. The class gasped again, but you ignored them. All eyes were on you now—gothic robes trailing, heavy boots thudding, eyes lined with smudged black makeup, and an aura that screamed “don’t speak to me if you value your life.”

Cradling the trembling blue fire-fuzzball in your arms, you turned to Crewel.

“I’ll take responsibility for this one,” you intoned flatly.

Crewel blinked. Then sighed. “Very well. Just don’t let him set anything on fire.”

Back in your room...

The dorm was dark, curtains drawn, lit only by the soft hum of black flame candles and the flicker of your favorite haunted lamp. Gothic posters lined the walls. A bone-shaped incense holder smoldered faintly. It was quiet. Peaceful. Home.

On your lap, Idia curled into a ball of blue curls and gentle fire. He twitched his little whiskers as you brushed through his fur with a comb you conjured just for him. He hissed once—reflex—but then let out a begrudging purr.

“You make a surprisingly cute cat,” you said, voice dry, a rare smirk tugging at your lips.

He let out an offended meep and rolled onto his back, staring up at you with mortified golden eyes.

You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. I wouldn’t dare tell Ortho you made biscuits on my cloak earlier.”

The loudest cat groan echoed through the room.

Still, he stayed there. On your lap. Safe. Warm. Surrounded by darkness and someone who understood him—someone who hated the sun, crowds, and mornings just as much as he did.

For once in his life, Idia Shroud didn’t mind being around someone else.

Even if he was a cat for the time being.

You scratched under his flaming chin. He purred like a broken video game console.

The dorm room was still as shadowed and cozy as ever, lit only by dim lanterns and a flickering TV playing some obscure JRPG’s cutscene on mute. Incense swirled lazily in the air, curling around the edges of a spell circle chalked into the floor—half-finished, abandoned in favor of more important matters.

Like the sentient blue puffball curled in your lap.

You lounged lazily on your bed, black silk robe draped over your shoulders, heavy boots kicked off to the side. Idia—still a blue-flame Selkirk Rex—was stretched across your thighs like a spoiled little prince of darkness, his fiery fur faintly glowing against your monochrome aesthetic.

He’d been surprisingly docile, purring so hard at one point that your entire lap vibrated.

Of course, you had to take advantage of the moment.

Your black lipstick glinted faintly as you leaned down and kissed the top of his little flamey head.

“Smooch.”

He blinked. Then let out a soft, confused mrowl.

You kissed him again. Once between the ears. Once on his chubby cheek. Once near his twitchy little nose.

“Smooch. Smooch. Smooooch~”

Each kiss left a black lip-print on his blue-tinged fur. Like gothic seals of affection. Marks of adoration.

His tail started twitching wildly, like a meter slowly maxing out his embarrassment stat.

You tilted your head. “Aww. You’re all covered in love now, poor thing.”

Idia let out a muffled mrphhh, half-limp in your arms, half-melting from the attention and affection.

And then—

FWOOOSH!

A bright blue light engulfed him. Your arms instinctively tightened to hold him in place.

And when the light faded...

He was no longer a cat.

Idia Shroud—gangly limbs, hoodie, and all—was now awkwardly sprawled in your lap, blinking rapidly, entire body frozen in a crash-reboot of social anxiety.

...Covered in black lipstick marks.

One on his forehead. One just above his jawline. One on his neck. Several on his cheek. You counted seven in total from your perch beneath him.

And his hair—

It was pink. Flaming hot pink. A blushing bonfire, complete with flickering sparks of mortification.

“A-A-AH?! W-WHY—WHO—ME???”

His voice cracked hard enough to shatter your lamp. He scrambled but failed to escape, since your arms were still loosely wrapped around him.

You blinked up at him, calm as ever.

“You turned human again. While in my lap. After I covered you in kisses.” You dragged a finger up his cheek, smearing one of the lipstick prints like you were signing your name.

“That’s on you, babe.”

“B-BABE???!?!” he squeaked, voice hitting a pitch only dogs could hear. He clutched his hoodie drawstrings like they were a lifeline.

“Your fur was soft. You were cute. I was emotionally vulnerable,” you said deadpan. “So obviously I had to smother you in affection. That’s just what one does with magically cursed cats who panic and hide in their goth crush’s lap.”

“G-GOTH CRUSH—????! ERROR—!! STOP—!! BLUE SCREEN—!!”

He turned an even deeper shade of pink as you reached up and plucked another lipstick mark off his nose with your thumb.

“You’ll survive.” You smirked. “Unless you burst into flames. Which, judging by your hair, might actually happen.”

He buried his face in your shoulder with a pained wheeze. “I’m never showing my face in public again…”

You patted his back comfortingly. “Good. Neither do I.”

[idyllwave]

second chances part 2

dick grayson/nightwing x reader

you wake up in the hospital with nightwing nowhere in sight. guess you won't be marrying him anytime soon... damn. Luckily though, you have other problems to worry about.

cw ; blood , violence , terrible depiction of how a hospital works (i never worked or have been in a hospital) , grammatical errors , etc.

Part 3

taglist

@cruzerforce4256 @kapingbitter @meep-merp124 @extra-pickles @earth-to-mee

You sat up abruptly, your side throbbed and ached, your whole face contorting as you raised your hands to press down on the place spot where you’ve been stabbed and cut right through.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow-“

“How are you already awake?!”

You startled slightly as you looked over, a nurse was standing there, clipboard in hand as she stood there in stunned silence.

“Already awake?”

You thought back as a slight dull ache ruptured across your mind. Stabbed, killed, left to drown, sent to another world, Nightwing.

That’s right! Nightwing! Right after you had proposed to him, you had fallen unconscious, luckily though he had gotten you to the hospital in time before you bled out anymore than you already had. You wanted to bury yourself into a hole, you couldn’t believe that you actually proposed to him!

“Yes, after Nightwing brought you here, you went straight into surgery… which was an hour ago.”

You groaned as you pushed yourself back so that you were leaning up against your pillows, “I see… where are my things? And what exactly happened to me?

The nurse gestured to your bedside table where your wallet, phone, and keys were, “you were attacked by a serial killer. Lately he’s been targeting young ladies like yourself. He hunts them down and stabs them in the side, and then he cuts into them deeper following the curvature of a rib. You’re the first one to live through an attack, so I reckon the police will be coming to question you tomorrow.”

You didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or not as you opened your wallet to look through it. If the one who attacked you was a serial killer at least you know that you aren’t some secret assassin or working for the mafia and someone wanted you dead.

In fact, with the new memories you have (thanks to that voice that sent you here to this world) it seems you are just a small-time author who doesn’t get into trouble. And the reason why you were out late was because you were celebrating publishing a new book with your friends. You smiled lightly at the thought, in your previous world you always wanted to be an author, but figured you weren’t cut out for it, so you forced yourself to go through college through a harsh degree and career track, and of course it got you killed since you decided to work late one night.

“And Nightwing?”

“He already left.”

You nodded as you went to lay back down.

“Do you need anything else,” the nurse asked.

“No thank you,” you managed to say, “I think I’m going to try to get some more sleep, and I guess mentally prepare myself for meeting some cops tomorrow.”

The nurse nodded and left leaving you to your thoughts in the dark hospital room. And honestly, sleep was hard to come by because something still felt off about the whole situation. But you did your best to ignore it as you closed your eyes. Your breath slowing and your mind doing little to put you at peace.

It wasn’t until two or so hours later that you found yourself waking up in a cold sweat. And your mind was absolutely racing.

A serial killer failing to kill? Not to mention that you’re the first victim surviving… You clutched the white blanket and pulled it to your chin as a pit settled in your stomach. You could feel your heartbeat hard against your chest as you tried to dig deeper into the comforts of hospital bed.

You’ve seen movies, read books, listened to podcasts and watched those unsettling murder documentaries on youtube.

If someone fails to kill someone the first time,

You paused and held your breath when you heard the door handle start to jiggle. Your body tensed, your heart thudded loud, and the pain in your side flared so bad that it was hard to ignore.

then won’t they just come back to finish the job?

The door handle turned slowly, a loud, resonating click echoed into the room, and the door was pushed open as light from the hallway filtered in. The creak from the door hinges was deafeningly loud.

“Found you~”

Your lips quivered as you pushed yourself back so you were leaning against the pillows and bed frame.

You wanted to go back to sleep. You wanted to be dreaming. You wanted to curse at the voice that refused to speak again. But really, who were you kidding? You read the comics, watched the movies, and binged the shows. Gotham wasn’t kind and the villains proved that on a nightly basis.

He lifted the knife that was in his hands, toyed with the tip before bringing it to his face and dragging the edge gently across his cheek.

“You’re the first, you know? The first to live…,” he stood at the end of the bed, his eyes piercing into you, “your screams were so lovely to ear.”

Were you screaming?

A new memory flashed behind your eyes. How someone jumped from the alleyway that you had walked by and stabbed you in the side. In the exact same place as your previous life and began to cut along the rub – deep and unapologetic. You remember slumping against him before falling to the ground. You remember him dragging you into the alley to leave you for dead.

You remember your voice dying out. Were you actually screaming?

He tapped the blade against the frame of the bed.

“In any other situation, I would let you live. Simply because you survived. Granted it was because of Nightwing, but that is besides the point… You’ve seen my face. Unless… of course… you can promise not to say a word,” he rounded the bed where he was right next to you. His body looming over you like a bad omen.

“And how would you know if I was telling you the truth or not?”

He raised the blade it let it glide against the bedsheets before it rested right above your stomach.

“I find my victims to be quite truthful when under the blade.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to kill me, because I’m a terrible liar,” you were quick, or at least tried to be. Everything was moving in slow mo as you reached for your phone, turned it on and flicked on the flash – blinding him momentarily.

Kicking off the covers then, you raised your right foot and kicked him hard in the crotch. Your heel digging right into his balls as you kicked him off. The sound that left his lips was a mix of a yelp and a groan as he dropped his knife and crumpled to the floor. And as much as your wound allowed, you moved to get out of the bed and out the room as quick as possible.

You slammed the door shut as quickly as possible. Though as soon as you did, you could already hear shuffling from inside as he was probably trying to get up to chase after you. Panicking, you looked around, your eyes flitting from the elevator then to the stairs. In your current condition, he’ll catch up to you if you take the stairs.

You decided to take the elevator. You pressed the button multiple times as you looked down at your phone and unlocked it to go to the phone keypad. I sure hope the number to call the police is 911 in this world, you thought as you pressed the call button and brought it up to your ear. As soon as you did, the elevator door opened and you rushed inside and started to press the 1st floor button.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“Yes- I- Shit!”

The phone got knocked out of your hand as you were slamming hard against the wall in the elevator, before you could push him though he had grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you so hard that he threw you into the button panel. Your back hit every single button to each floor that the hospital had.

Distantly you could hear the operator on the call, but you couldn’t do anything as you raised your arms and tried to keep the man from stabbing you again. But it was hard. Your arms felt like jello, and your whole body felt like it was going to collapse if you moved the wrong way. Your wound- you already felt a stitch pop and a wetness start to blotch against your skin and clothes.

Were you really going to screw up your second chance?

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

eight.

[seven] [eight] [nine]

a needle stuck, the same groove played.

Today was odd, the energy surrounding you felt off and wrong. You were tempted to not even go to your classes today because of it. It was pouring and gloomy. Normally you enjoyed the weather but something just didn’t feel right about the day. Your nerves were already off balance but now, in this very moment your arms hurt from how tense they were. 

You and Viktor walked side by side underneath his umbrella. “So, meet back at the cafe to finish the slides?” You ask, gripping the strap of your backpack. He hums in response. “Yup.” He nods his head. “Then after we finish the board we’ll have a week of no work in bio!” You clap your hands. You were trying your hardest to keep up a positive attitude lately that it was beginning to feel foreign and strange. 

“Very exciting.” His lips tug upward, looking down at you as you were looking straight ahead. Seemingly zoning out. He’s been catching you doing that frequently lately. “This is my stop, thank you for walking with me with your umbrella.” You give him a quick side hug to which he squeezes in return. 

“Of course, see you later.” He says, you nod your head. “See ya!” You hurriedly enter the building for your first class of the day. Viktor heads to his own, having to rush since now he only has five minutes to get there after taking you to your class. You repeatedly told him it was okay but he insisted. It kind of bit him back in the ass but to him it was worth it. Not minding being seconds late to his own lecture. 

“Uh, Vector, right?” A voice meeps out from behind him, giving him a slight startle. His hand gripped the umbrella a little tighter. “Viktor, you’re [Name]’s friend, right?” He raises a brow toward the ginger girl now walking beside him. She was holding her own umbrella so she kept some distance. 

“Kind of, not really at the moment.” She stammers but then shakes her head, getting back on track to what she wanted to say to him. “Doesn’t matter,” She breathes before she starts. He glances at her confused but still keeping a fast walking pace as he still needed to get to his class soon. “I’m uh, I want to apologize for what I did to you in high school. Telling you those awful things through [Name]’s account the way I did. You didn’t deserve that.” Her chin was quivering like she was about to cry. Viktor was confused by what she was saying. 

“I’m sorry that I ruined your guy’s friendship but I’m glad you reconciled with one another. She talked about you a lot, you went by Ma or something. I don’t know. Again I just wanted to apologize for what I did.” She places a hand on his shoulder with a sad smile. “I didn’t realize the stuff I said caused you two to stop being friends. I thought it was a funny prank. It definitely wasn’t at all.” She drops her hand back to her side. Viktor doesn’t say anything as he stops walking. His heart was racing as he repeated everything she just said in his head. 

Ma… She? [Name]? Angelicsunny, [name] is angelicsunny?

Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. His legs felt like jello and he was truly clutching onto his cane for dear life. “You okay?” Maddie tilts her head to the side, reaching out to grab him, worried he was going to fall or something. He snaps out of it, looking up to the ginger. “Yeah… Thank you for your apology. I have to get to class.” He pushed past her, his feet were moving for him. He wasn’t in control anymore as he got to his lecture. 

His mind was spiraling. And the coffee he had drunk was threatening to spew back up. He couldn’t even pay attention to his three hour long lesson. He was playing back so many memories he had of you. The hours the two of you talked to one another as high schoolers. How didn’t he recognize your voice? Did you know this entire time? Is that why you talked to him? 

When the professor dismissed class he lazily pulled out his phone, immediately going to your art account and scrolling all the way down. Your very first post, something he skimmed over. This time he looks closely. It was a familiar little painting. This account had a different name at the time.

He gawks at this. Not able to believe this was happening. That he had to deal with something from four years ago. Well, he was never truly over what happened. He always looked at his blocked list, hovering over your old accounts. Wondering if he should talk to you again. It was always too much. It hurt too badly. 

The wounds still felt fresh as he thought about what was said. Would you even forgive him for blocking you? Not trusting your word and not hearing you out even in the slightest? 

When he looked back at it he knew he overreacted a little bit. But it hurt, it hurt so bad seeing those words being sent to you by the one person he truly trusted with all of his heart. Even though the two of you didn’t know one another's names or faces at the time you guys knew every single other detail. Venting to each other about life and things like that. You were his best friend. 

Now as he stood outside his class, staring at his phone screen and having to swipe to your chat he wanted to call you out for not telling him. He just wanted to know why you hid it. Was it some sort of game you were pulling trying to be his friend? Maybe hurt him again the way you did before? Thoughts raced. And raced before his fingers began to type at the device. 

—--------------------------------------------------

vik.tor_e- something came up, can’t meet up later. 

vik.tor_e- sorry. 

love.[name]3- it’s okay! no worries! 

love.[name]3- are you ok tho?

vik.tor_e- ya, dw about it. 

love.[name]3- umm ok…

—---------------------------------------------------

It had been three days since then. He hadn’t answered any other texts after that. He hadn’t been showing up to the cafe. You were starting to really get worried. You vented to Powder about it, not shutting up. She repeatedly told you it was probably just school related things. 

“Can you just ask Vi or something? Please.” You ask with a pleading expression. The blue-haired girl lets out a loud, dramatic sigh. “I’ll call and ask right now.” She grabs her phone and aggressively taps on it. Putting the phone to her ear. “Vi, can you do something for me?” She lazily inquires. “What do you want now?” 

“Is that Viktor dude, okay? [Name] said he hasn’t been showing up to their daily date things.” Powder sits up, picking at the paint on her nails that were already chipped. You glare at her, throwing a pillow in her direction. “They’re just hang outs.” You spit and she waves you to stop. 

“Uh he’s fine as well as I’m aware. Little more depressed than usual but it happens in the first semester for him for some reason.” Violet answers, not really showing worry for her friend. Kind of calming you down but also not. “Okay, thanks. Bye.” Powder hangs up the phone. “See, school stuff.” She flops back down, closing her eyes to attempt to take a nap like she was trying to do before you interrupted her with your anxiety. 

You gnaw at your bottom lip, still not feeling right about this. 

“Dude, you can’t hold a grudge this long. I’m sure she didn’t even know it was you.” Jayce esperates toward his friend as he was playing a game on his laptop. Viktor rolls his eyes, pacing back and forth in his room. “I know, I just, I can’t let go of this.” He explains, furrowing his brows. “It’s been four years. It might be good to talk with one another.” Jayce says, not really paying attention. 

“Yeah, but you don’t get what was said. I don’t know if I can actually forgive her.” Viktor frowns. “You won’t know unless you hear her out.” Jayce reminds him. “I don’t know…” 

“Well don’t the two of you have a class together tomorrow?” He glances up to the boy who nods quietly. “Then just talk after that.” Jayce shrugs his shoulders as if it were that simple. “We’ll see.” 

And as you stepped into your class your eyes immediately scan the room, landing on the boy who’s been missing for nearly four days. He peers up to you and you grin, waving at him. Viktor presses his lips together, barely lifting up his pointer finger in response. You sit in your seat, confused on what his deal is. And as you go to ask the professor starts his first speech of the day. 

The two of you pull out your notebooks for the class and you rip the bottom edge of one of the sheets. Scribbling down words before passing it over to your friend. He looks at it. 

Reading what you said. “U ok? Little worried about you. :(“ 

You watch as he takes a deep breath and then begins to write on the paper. Giving you a little bit of hope that it’s not about you. 

He slides it back over to you. 

“Talk after class. Angelicsunny.” 

Your face dropped instantaneously. Your head snapped to look at him but now he was avoiding your gaze. 

He knows. He knows and now this was the end of your friendship for a second time.

only five more chapters to go.

taglist: if you want to be added lmk! @policedeer @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @ang3lz-lov3 @almostdrowningdown @corpsepies @obittwo @bakusquadobsessed @ren-ni @xx-siren-sings-xx

[sloanesallow]

a father's approval

Sebastian is ready to ask Sloane to marry him, but first, he must speak with the most intimidating man in the world: her father. Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Siobhan Sloane) Tags: Established relationship, Papa Sloane is basically an Irish Ron Swanson 1.5k words [Ao3] | [Wattpad]

Summer 1894

It’s a clear day, the sun shining brightly overhead, when Sebastian disapperates to the outskirts of Nottinghamshire. He’s made this trip plenty of times over the years, visiting his girlfriend’s childhood home on weekends and during holiday breaks. It’s a place he’s come to cherish, the quiet hamlet the setting of so many precious memories he has with Sloane.

Though it’s been a while since his last visit, with Sloane in Marseille. After graduation, she’d been invited to become an apprentice by a prestigious Herbologist in France, an opportunity she couldn’t pass on, even if it meant being away from Sebastian. He’d accepted his own apprenticeship with Gringotts, training in London as a curse-breaker.

After nearly a year apart, he’s ready for her to be home.

There’s something else he’s ready for, too.

Sebastian leisurely walks up the grassy path toward the Sloane family homestead, absentmindedly plucking a few wildflowers to form a makeshift bouquet. By the time he reaches the porch steps, his chest aches with how quickly his heart beats, terrified that this trip won’t go according to plan. He leans over to inspect his warped reflection in the doorside window, fiddling with his collar and tie, making sure there aren’t too many hairs out of place before he knocks.

He doesn’t get the chance.

“Sallow.”

Sebastian meeps. Meeps.

He slowly turns around to find Mr. Sloane standing behind him, hands covered in dirt from a long day’s work in the fields, a shotgun slung over his broad shoulder. Sebastian might consider himself tall, but compared to Sloane’s father, he feels like a house elf.

“Uh…h—hello, sir,” he greets, clearing his throat of the embarrassing squeak. “Fine day.”

Mr. Sloane slowly blinks. “Siobhan isn’t here.”

“I know that,” Sebastian replies with a strained laugh. “Can’t I visit you?”

“No.”

Sebastian frowns. Sloane always says that her father doesn’t hate him, regardless of his curmudgeonly personality. That’s just the way he is, the softer, more jovial parts reserved for only his beloved daughter. While Mr. Sloane has never outwardly protested their relationship, he hasn’t exactly warmed up to the idea, either. If anything, the man tolerates Sebastian, which might be worse.

Without another word, Mr. Sloane enters his home, leaving the door open behind him in a silent invitation for Sebastian to follow. He idles in the foyer, doubting his presence is truly welcome.

“Sit,” Mr. Sloane instructs when he reenters the room, this time carrying two shallow glasses filled with amber liquid. Sebastian is confused by the offering, staring down at the drink that’s pushed into his hand. Mr. Sloane’s voice is a little firmer this time. “Sit.”

Sebastian snaps himself down onto the worn-out sofa, watching Mr. Sloane as he relaxes into the nearby armchair with a long, exhausted exhale. When the older man raises his glass to drink, Sebastian does the same, wincing when the alcohol hits the back of his throat.

“Smooth,” he coughs, tears glazing his vision.

Mr. Sloane laughs.

It startles Sebastian, the sound so foreign to him that he doesn’t know how to react. He swallows the tightness in his throat, wishing he had something less caustic to help ease his nerves.

“Out with it, Sallow,” Mr. Sloane finally speaks, studying him with steely blue eyes. “What do you want?”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t?”

“I mean—”

“You mean what?” Mr. Sloane firmly asks, with one brow arched high.

Sebastian sighs, wetting his lips as he builds up the courage to say—to ask—what he’s come here for. All the practicing he’s done that week, all the imaginary conversations he’s held with himself to prepare—it all vanishes from his mind when he meets Mr. Sloane’s gaze.

“I’d like to ask for Siobhan’s hand, for your approval, that is, for her hand—”

“Are you planning on cutting it off?”

Sebastian is confused by the interruption. “What?”

“Her hand,” Mr. Sloane clarifies. “Do you plan on cutting it off?”

“Huh?”

“What else would you need it for?”  

Sebastian closes his eyes and groans. “Please, sir. You know what I mean.”

���Do I?” Mr. Sloane’s lips twitch just enough for Sebastian to realize he’s being needled.

Maybe Sloane is right, that her father doesn’t hate him. Sebastian doubts the man would tease him so ruthlessly if he weren’t at least a little fond of him. He steadies his resolve and tries again.

“I’d like to ask Slo—Siobhan—for her hand in marriage,” Sebastian says, heart racing in anticipation of Mr. Sloane’s response. “I didn’t want to—couldn’t—propose to her without your approval.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Sebastian repeats, not expecting the question. Isn’t this what he’s supposed to do? Even in the wizarding world, where the rules for courtship are far more lenient than they are in Muggle society, boys are taught to be gentlemanly. “Erm…don’t I need your permission?”

“Permission, approval,” Mr. Sloane shakes his head, but it isn’t him disagreeing. Not yet, at least. “I’ve no care for what the law says, I do not control Siobhan’s life.”

Sebastian appreciates this about Mr. Sloane, that he’s given his daughter the freedom to live her life as she wants. But he knows that she’ll never agree to marry him if she thinks it will upset her father. After everything they’ve been through, he can’t bear the thought of not spending the rest of his life with Sloane.

Mr. Sloane remains silent—a family trait—as he slowly sips his brandy until the glass is empty. “I expected you to grovel.”

“Do…you want me to grovel?” Sebastian gulps. He will, if that’s what it takes.

“Perhaps a little,” Mr. Sloane shrugs. “Siobhan is my only daughter, after all. Her mother will have words for me in the afterlife if I don’t make it somewhat difficult on you. Go on, tell me your plans.”

Despite the demand, Sebastian feels strangely hopeful.

“I uhh…” he trails, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s a spot in Hogsmeade, the wizarding village, where we spent a lot of time while attending Hogwarts. It’s where we’d…stroll.” Sebastian decides against mentioning all the times he’s kissed Sloane on late-night walks after dinner at the Three Broomsticks. “She’s fond of the wisteria trees. I’d…like to propose to her there.”

“Do you have a ring?” Mr. Sloane asks next.

“Yes,” Sebastian nods, then backtracks. “I mean, I have one picked out. The jeweler promised to hold it for me until I could pay.”

“Not that I lack the funds,” he scrambles to add. “Well, right now I…do. But I’ve accepted a contract with the Ministry of Magic, and will purchase the ring once I receive my first week’s pay.”

Mr. Sloane’s expression is unreadable, not that it is ever discernible. “Where will you live?”

“In London,” Sebastian answers, grip tightening around the glass he hasn’t dared to drink from. “I have a flat there,” he explains, omitting the fact that he still has roommates. “But I’ve told Sloane already that we can live anywhere she’d like. As long as we’re together.”

Mr. Sloane says nothing, prompting Sebastian to second-guess everything he’s said.

“I know I don’t have a lot to offer, sir,” he says, wondering if this conversation would be easier if he were of a better station in life. “But I really, truly love your daughter. And I want to spend the rest of my life loving her.”

Mr. Sloane abruptly stands, and he moves to do the same until the older man gestures for him to remain seated. He disappears from the room for several minutes, leaving Sebastian to spiral. When Mr. Sloane returns, he swaps the glass in Sebastian’s hand for something else.

A small, ornate box.

Sebastian carefully opens it to reveal a ring, the silver band intricately engraved with a Celtic lover’s knot, the center diamond surrounded by tiny, leaf-like gems. The sight renders him speechless.

“Her mother’s ring,” Mr. Sloane explains, a lingering grief in his tone. “I’ll not have you propose to Siobhan with anything else.”

Sebastian remembers Sloane speaking about it once, thinking the ring had been buried with her mother. “You kept it?”

“I knew this day would come,” the man responds, still rigid, even as he sighs. “You’ll understand one day when you have a daughter of your own.”

The blood drains from Sebastian’s brain as he blanches, doing everything he can to not think about Sloane with a rounded stomach, or with a baby at her breast—their baby. It’s only then that he realizes what Mr. Sloane is implying.

“Does this mean—”

“You’ll be married in a church, do you understand?”

Sebastian frantically nods, suddenly feeling quite jittery. “Y—yes, sir.”

“And no more of this Sloane nonsense,” he adds. “Won’t make much sense, anyway, once she’s a Sallow.”

Sebastian grins.

“Stop that,” Mr. Sloane says. “Stand up.”

Sebastian does, still somewhat terrified that he might change his mind. Mr. Sloane raises his hand, but when Sebastian reaches out to shake it, he’s pulled into a crushing embrace that he’s sure will bruise his ribs.

“Sir?” he squeaks, too nervous to hug the man in return.

“Rowan,” Mr. Sloane corrects, offering his given name. “You’re a good man, Sebastian.”

When he pulls away, Sebastian pretends not to see the sheen of tears in the man’s eyes, while fighting back his own. Mr. Sloane firmly grasps his shoulder and, for what feels like the first time, smiles. “I’ll be proud to call you son.”

Show your support! Reblogs, comments, kudos/votes are greatly appreciated. 💛✨

[gauntletgirlie]

Get to know your Mutuals

Thanks for the tag @perlen-gold, even though I’m just an unhinged follower obsessed with your writing 🙈 I started my own chain so your original post wouldn’t get too long.

What's the origin of your blog's title? My thirst for Adar and the gauntlet kink he inspired.

Favorite Fandoms: I have a lot, but The Silmarillion/The Lord of the Rings/The Rings of Power are my main ones I always fall back on.

OTP(s) + shipname: I’m a self shipper so me + whomever I’m obsessed with (currently Melkor, Adar, and Gil-galad) but also more recently:

Melkor x Mairon (Angbang)

Adar x Celebrimbor (Silverscars)

Favorite color: Orange (also partial to purple and dark green).

Favorite game: Hero Quest (I’m not a console gamer. Though I did enjoy watching my husband play Horizon Zero Dawn).

Song stuck in your head: Dog Days (Are Over) by Florence and The Machine.

Weirdest habit/trait? Oh boy, where to begin… I make random noises, I meep like Beaker to songs, laugh at my own jokes… I’m just a weird person altogether folks.

Hobbies: Writing, visiting places of historical interest, I also used to be an avid reader but then motherhood robbed me of my energy and concentration. I listen to audiobooks more now.

If you work, what's your profession? I write scientific reports and run data tables for an Early Drug Development CRO, which is as fun as it sounds. I’m also a mother. Everything you’ve heard about motherhood is true and also a lie.

If you could have any job you wish what would it be? I would be rich enough not to need to work 🤷🏻‍♀��� or working on a petting farm would be cute.

Something you're good at: Berating myself. Encouraging others/being a cheerleader. Also writing, I hope 🙈

Something you're bad at: Most things, but especially anything requiring mathematics or physical exercise.

Something you excel at: Being a silly goose 😏thirsting over fictional characters 🙈 and raging at injustices. Erm, I think that’s about it. How tragic for me 😂

Something you love: The community I’ve found here on Tumblr 🫶🏼 period dramas, Dracula, and tattoos (I have none of my own… yet).

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Mormonism, The Wars of the Roses, the people I love.

Something you hate: Injustice, mayonnaise, and corsets improperly portrayed in period drama.

Something you collect: Cuddly toy bats, and more characters to thirst over (I need help).

Something you forget: That motherhood is difficult so to give myself more grace.

What's your love language? I don’t adhere to love languages, but I guess genuine connection over similar interests, banter/in-jokes.

Favorite movie/show: Aaahhh don’t make me choose! It’s always changing.

Favorite food: Galaxy Cookie Crumble, Mini Eggs, Yorkshire puddings, and pizza.

Favorite animal: Bats 🦇

Are you musical? I can hold a tune and I played flute as a kid, otherwise sadly no.

What were you like as a child? Intelligent, saw everything in black and white, more artistic, more outgoing.

Favorite subject at school? History and art.

Least favorite subject? Maths and PE.

What's your best character trait? I like to think I’m kind and understanding.

What's your worst character trait? I can be so incredibly lazy.

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? More sleep. Always more sleep.

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet? Bram Stoker. I’d also love to meet my mum as a young woman, I think we would have had fun.

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

Come by @perlen-gold (Angbang)

Of Convenience by @greenleaf4stuff (Silverscars)

Last but not least, show your favorite fanart of your favorite character(s) (please remember to credit/add links!):

Melkor/Morgoth

Adar

Gil-Galad (TROP)

No pressure tags for @greenleaf4stuff, @valar-did-me-wrong, @strifes13, @wowstrawberrycow, @iwanderbecauseimlost, @withallthatisleftofmyheart, @calmlyy-chaotiic, @margauxmara, @varda-starqueen, @saffronstories, @gingeragenda, @gracefallingart, @dwarveslikeshinythings, @whenimaunicorn, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 and anyone else who would like to play! Sorry if I missed anyone.

[lovezbrownies]

Silent treatment. (Yandere!Queen x GN!Reader)

Masterlist.

Synopsis: Your wife won't listen to you, so you take matters into your own hands and fail miserably.

Queen Nia x reader

Word count: 545

Warnings: Stockhold syndrome, no boundaries, not listening?, cute overall.

“Your majesty, ple-” A sharp gasp came out of the woman in front of you, her hand on her chest and a horrified look on her face. “Majesty?!? Are we not married?! My heart, ah!! Maid! Get me a doctor!” Nia goes on with her dramatics once again. And you were exhausted, you could barely have a serious conversation with her, a few months into your marriage with the Queen of Xelera and you couldn’t do it anymore.

So far, you’ve accepted your fate. There is no point in escaping, she is the queen she will go to extreme lengths to get you back! So when you finally resigned to your fate and tried to have some serious discussions with Nia about boundaries and the terms of your marriage she would always find a way to change the topic, or brush your concerns off.

By now you’ve decided that the only way Nia would ever listen to you is by not talking to her. You’ve made up your mind! For however long it will take you, you refused to speak to her, to even utter a single meep, you even started to pretend like you were too busy to spend time with her at times. And it ruined Nia, she would beg and beg for even a tiny hum! Usually you would contribute to whatever thought she would blurt out but even when she mentioned your favorite topic you would not budge!

That led to today, where you and your wife sat at one of the vast gardens in Khas.  picnic blanket under you and pastries and tea in front of you. You sat straight, criss-cross applesauce style. While Nia was lying flat on her stomach, her head held by her hands. “Why are you ignoring meee?” Nia whined, looking up at her stunning lover, wondering what she’s done wrong. Nia tried her best to provide you with the most expensive of jewelry, clothing, supplies for your hobbies, and refused to do any work until you speak to her. Not like that changed anything because she’d only sign less than 5 documents in a good month.

Strange sight to see the Queen pleading and begging her spouse to speak with her. “Please… I’m sorry… Please talk to me, tell me what I did, I want to apologize, please, please, please-” And she goes on and on. Over the weeks of your silence you’ve gotten used to it, but even if you hated to admit it you missed yapping away with her. So you turned to her, your eyes locked, and she bounced up, sitting straight, Nia grabbed your hands. “Yes!! Say something! PLEASE!”

You inhaled, closing your eyes, you finally decided to say something. “I wa-” Only for- “Oh my goodness, thank heavens you spoke! I’ve missed your voice so much! Okay now did you know what Lady Aria said to me the other day? And you better respond to me!” There really was no way to win. You just had to deal with her nonsense and slowly lead her to understand your boundaries physically somehow.

Sigh. “Yes, dear, what did she say?” Nia squealed and laid her head on your lap, forcing you to massage her scalp as she went on with her stories.

[shadebloopnik]

Calling for help from any kind fandom citizen, I have a survey of which I am in dire need of responses for school.

So if you could answer this short survey below, it only takes like, 2-3 minutes minimum, thank you so muchhhh ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Audience's Perception on AI-Generated Works

I'll be accepting free fic commissions for responses

Reblogs are appreciated(on my knees for em)

Some tea abt why I made this survey, the very polite beef i have with my instructor, and details on the fic comms underneath

Ok, so like, long story short, our professor assigned us to make a short survey about anything related to technology and stuff like that. I figured i'd make something related to AI art, bc yknow, at least I'd be somewhat interested in the topic.

And btw, I like to say our prof is a nice guy, reeeally, but he's also, VERY pro AI, for anything. I've gotten into soft debates on that whenever there's presentations in class, and he keeps dismissing me. "Its progress" he says, and doesn't really listen whenever I talk further about it. SO, in addition to this being for my grade(smthn important, im sure), i'm also doing this to nicely shove the opinions of the crowd into his face.

So if some of the questions sound passive aggressive, please dont mind it, as he is going to be part of the editor, and I want him to see it.

also Twitter is the only thing im deadnaming, so if thats a gamechanger for you, I apologize in advance

ALSO, my extremely kind and benevolent instructor whom I just TRULY adore with all my heart (no im not gritting my teeth), have decided that it should have a minimum of 150 respondents to even be counted, a funny condition when he gave us like, barely 2 weeks but ok.

I've sent this out to people in my school and general friends more than a week ago, but I'm still lacking at LEAST 90 responses. (They suggested it was my topic that was the issue. BORING they said I just-) I only have a day or so to get more people.

SOOOO to sweeten the pot and as a form of apology.

Everyone who answers this survey can write down in their reblogs or replies a ship/prompt they'd want me to make a fic. 3 with the most popular votes gets written. Just write down the name/alias you've written in the survey with ur replies.

Minimum 2k words for each fic. It shall be posted by the end of December or early January on ao3

YES even nsfw ones, but you'll have to clarify it if it wins(im gonna be shocked if its something i truly cannot write about tbh)

I figured this is a fun way to force myself back into the writing scheme tbh. I have written some concepts before, like the AU's I had pinned, and some drabbles, but so far none that really stuck so meep

I would prefer its a fandom or ship im currently fixated on/know about, like Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Owl House, Orv, Epic, etc.

[oopsallgoalies]

False Confidence: Chapter 8

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, I don’t know how car insurance works sue me, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: This one’s a heavy one…

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Javy hates the way his heart hammers in his chest, to the point that he swears that he can hear the echo in the single-stall bathroom. There isn’t really anywhere to sit and the toilet doesn’t have a lid so he’s planted his back against his wall for support as he squats awkwardly and removes his gear. He’s sweating like a pig at this point. Being in full gear isn’t anything new, but usually, the rink is at least cold and your classroom when packed with two dozen kids and at least half as many parents hasn’t exactly been a picnic. It’s worth it though, for that tiny smile you’ve had on your face since you saw him. Well, he and Jake, but he’s trying not to think too hard about that. You hadn’t corrected him when he called you Meep either. Hope tightens the noose around his heart as he glances at where he’s hung your keys on the hook on the back of the door.

He peels his gear off, wrinkling his nose at the smell and wishing that he had asked if there was a gym locker room he could use so he could jump in the shower but he figured an elementary school probably wouldn’t have those. Once he’s gotten out of his gear and he’s left standing amid the pile like a fool, he’s still hesitating to put on his clean clothes. He knows that hockey players stink. God knows his sisters and mom complained enough growing up. He wants to make a good impression. He steps over the mess on the floor over to the sink. He looks from the paper towel dispenser to the sink before he shrugs. He dampens a folded paper towel and does his best to wipe himself down. It’s not the same as a shower but it's something. He tugs on his clean clothes and sprays himself with a few spritzes of cologne for good measure before he stuffs the sweaty gear into his duffle. When he’s done, he grabs your keys, examining your ID badge. In the picture, you’re smiling at the camera, albeit in that shy way you always do, significantly different than the way you smile around your students. The plastic of your ID is almost completely covered by little stickers that he knows must be your students’ handiwork and he smiles to himself as he leaves the bathroom, and fumbles to find the key you’d taken great effort to make sure he wouldn’t forget, locking the room behind him before he heads back the way you’d gone.

***

When you get back to your classroom, Jake and Josie have fallen into an easy conversation that you’re sure comes from the familiarity of having known each other for the last five months. They both look up when you come in. Jake makes a show of looking around you for Javy before he quirks an eyebrow at you. “You left him there by himself? What if he falls in!” You roll your eyes and don’t miss the way Jake’s smile widens when you do.

“Jake, I teach kindergarteners for a living, and I promise you, no one actually falls in.” He laughs at that and Josie gives you an impressed look as you cross past them to get to your desk and you pull out your lunch before looking at the sandwich that Jake’s eating that looks suspiciously like the one in Josie’s hands. “You packed them lunch?” You ask as Josie reveals a third sandwich, placing it on an empty corner that’s now been silently assigned to Javy. Josie shrugs.

“Call it a motherly instinct. I know what Penny suggests for them since I cook for Reuben so I thought I’d make them something to hold them over until they get back to work.” Jake thanks her through a full mouth and both you and Josie make a face of disgust. “Jake Seresin, you’re a grown man, don’t talk with your mouth full.” Josie admonishes and Jake has the good sense to look chagrinned as he swallows.

“Thanks for coming, by the way.” You speak up before you forget to thank Jake. “It really means a lot to the kids.”

Jake waves your thanks off. “I love visiting schools. It was my favorite thing to do back when I was back in Dallas. I got to go to my old elementary school a few times, and nothing really comes close to that.”

“Says the man who’s won a cup before,” Josie says, arching an eyebrow.

“Well one of the times I went was when I took said cup there, so the joke’s on you, Jo.” She rolls her eyes and goes back to her sandwich. The door opens and Javy comes back into the room. Josie gestures to a chair at the closest desk to yours and Javy pulls it up. When you see him fold his much-too-large body into the tiny chair, you wince as you take your keys back from him.

“Here, Javy, we can switch seats if you want?” You start to stand up but he waves you off.

“Don’t worry about it, Meep.” You see Josie raise an eyebrow at you in response to the nickname but she doesn’t say anything.

“Meep?” Jake says, but his voice is garbled around another bite of sandwich and both you and Josie glare at him.

“JAKE!” He puts a hand up in apology and swallows as Javy grins at him.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, but Meep? What’s that about?”

Javy shrugs as he unwraps his sandwich. “She’s the Roadrunner, right? So, Meep,” he shrugs as he takes a bite of his sandwich as Jake snorts.

“You realize the Roadrunner says ‘beep beep’ right? Not ‘meep meep.’” Javy stops chewing mid-bite. Jake bursts out laughing at Javy’s reaction and you can’t help the smile that twists the edge of your mouth. Javy frowns at Jake but you can tell it’s in a comedic sense.

“How was I supposed to know that!” He complains indignantly when he finishes swallowing. “It’s not like it enunciates!” A giggle rises in your throat at the sight of these two grown men cramped into your students’ chairs bickering about Looney Tunes. Javy turns to you at the sound and opens his mouth presumably to say something but he’s interrupted by your door swinging open without warning. Your expression shutters instantly and your lips purse into a thin line as Jeremy comes in. He’s wearing a chagrinned expression that can’t be good.

“No way, you know Mark said he thought he saw you guys walk by his classroom? But I didn’t believe him.”

“What do you want, Jeremy?” Josie says in a tone that sounds bored. “If you came to bother the ogle hockey players, you’re going to have to buy a ticket.”

“Oh, right.” He shrugs. “When Mark and I were going to lunch, we noticed that it looked like someone had accidentally backed into your car, Roadie.”

“WHAT?” You can’t help the indignant squawk that comes out of your mouth laced with panic as you scramble to your feet, lunch forgotten.

“What’s to say you and Mark didn’t do it?” Josie says cooly, eyes narrowing. Jeremy looks shocked at the suggestion.

“Why would I even bother lying about that? My insurance would cover the damage if I did. My guess is that it was one of the parents who came in for career day.” You shake your head, unable to wrap your head around the news. You grab your keys in a haze, needing to see the proof for yourself.

“Roadie wait!” You hear Josie call out from behind you, but you don’t stop, shoving Jeremy out of the way when you get to the doorway and speedwalking towards the parking lot. When you get outside you all but run to where you park every day and your heart sinks as you look at your car, or at least what’s left of it. Backed into it is an understatement. The extent of the rear damage means that whoever did so was in a hurry and you blink hurriedly to try and stave back tears as you stare at the mess that’s what’s left of your car.

“Fuck…” You turn to see that Javy’s followed you. “Did they leave a note or anything?” Javy crosses over to inspect the windshield of your car. When he comes back empty-handed he shakes his head in disbelief. “Maybe they talked to someone in the front office?”

“Roadie, there you are! SHIT!” Josie and Jake make it to where you’re still frozen, staring at your car. Javy’s saying something to Jake that you can’t hear before Jake nods and heads back toward the building.

“I asked Jake to go see if whoever did this left their information with the office. Shit, Roadie, I’m so sorry.” As Javy apologizes, you feel the first fat traitorous tear escape your eyes.

“Oh honey,” Josie says as she notices the tear carving a line down your face, your lips quivering. She wraps you in her arms and you hide your face in her chest. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” She rubs your back encouragingly. “That poor car was on its last legs as it was. You said you’ve had it since you were in high school?”

“College,” you sniffle. “It was a graduation present from my parents when I moved out to go to college. And she’s not that old, she drove just fine.” Josie gives you a squeeze before letting you go and you wipe furiously at your damp cheeks that you’re sure are already starting to get puffy.

“You should probably call a tow, and then give your insurance a call.” She points out and you wince. You hate making phone calls, even though it’s an important part of your job, and you can’t help the way that you squirm at the idea.

“I’ll call the tow.” Javy pipes up and you look at him, surprised, having forgotten he was still here. “Take some pictures of the damage and we can go from there.” You nod wordlessly. “I can give you a lift home too, if you want?” The sentiment is appreciated but you shake your head.

“That’s okay, Javy, I’ll just get a ride home with Josie,” but Josie shakes her head too.

“Sorry Roadie, I’ve got parent-teacher conferences today, and the kids are just going to hang out with after-school care until I’m done. Go with Javy.”

“But we still have afternoon classes, I can’t leave yet.”

“I’ll come back and pick you up. Just tell me what time.” Javy says like it’s that simple.

“She should be done by 4,” Josie says before you can protest.

“Perfect, I’ll be there,” Javy says. “Now I’m going to call the tow, so I’d take whatever you need to out of the car.” You’ve given up control of the argument at this point so you just do what he asks.

“I’m going to go ask the custodians about getting some stuff to clean up the broken tail lights.” She heads after Jake back into the school, leaving you and Javy alone.

You collect your stuff in silence as Javy makes the phone call a few feet away. He’s finished by the time you’ve stuffed everything in your car into two grocery bags that you found under a seat since your trunk is jammed shut at the moment. You haul the bags around the other side of the car and place them by your feet as Javy gives you a once-over. “You okay, Meep?”

You let your shoulders slump as the exhaustion sets in. “Not really,” you whisper and he nods slowly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shrug and he just waits.

“I just… I just really can’t afford a new car right now.” You whisper. “And I know fixing my car isn’t going to be worth it, and I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“I could buy you a car,” Javy says nonchalantly and you wait for the laugh and when it doesn’t come you turn to gape at him.

“JAVY, I’m not letting you buy me a car!”

“Why not?” He says, cocking his head to the side. “I can afford it. You can’t. And let’s face it, if you’d decided to sue me, maybe you would be able to. So, let me buy you a car.”

“No.” You frown at him. “No, absolutely not, Javy, I can’t let you do that.” You shake your head firmly. He looks like he’s thinking about arguing. “Javy, I mean it. I’m not letting you buy me a car.” You cross your arms across your chest.

“Fine, fine.” He relents. “Then at least let me lend you one of my cars.” You gawk at him.

“Cars? As in plural?” You stammer and he shrugs.

“Yeah, I have three, and as you know, I only really need one.” You shake your head in disbelief.

“Still, I don’t think I could drive any of your cars, Javy… no offense.” He must realize what you mean and he laughs.

“Oh don’t worry, they’re not all like the one you rode in. That one’s mostly for show. It’s the one the press recognizes and the one I usually take girls in. I think I have the perfect one for you, actually.” He must see the skepticism in your eyes so he adds, “I can show you after work if you want? And then you can decide.” You know you’re not exactly in the position to be picky right now so you relent and nod.

“Looking can’t hurt,” you say and he smiles.

“Perfect.”

***

By the time the school day finally comes to an end, you’re exhausted. Javy ended up taking the bags from your car with him so you didn’t have to find space for them in your classroom and Jake and Josie got the front office to see what they can do to try and pull footage from the security tapes in the parking lot to find out who hit your car. You had to make the call to your insurance company while your students took their afternoon nap and you just want to go home and take an early night. You’re packing up your things after helping with pickup duty when a knock at your door makes you look up. Javy waves through the window and you motion for him to come in.

“Hey, you’re early,” you say, looking up at your clock that lets you know he’s fifteen minutes early to be exact.

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t waiting.” He says and you give him a tired smile.

“Thanks again for doing this, and sorry for the inconvenience.” Javy shakes his head as you collect your belongings. He holds out a hand for your backpack and you tentatively hand it to him and he slings it over a shoulder with ease. The floral patterned fabric looks comical against his dark t-shirt and muscled shoulders but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Meep, you’re not an inconvenience.” He says and you can’t help the way your heart flutters at the easy yet sincere way he says it. He reaches a hand out to you and you’re surprised to find that you take it, letting him hold your hand as the two of you walk out.

When you get to the parking lot, Javy leads you toward a forest-green Range Rover SUV. “This is my usual ride.” He explains, before opening the trunk and placing your backpack next to the bags you’d sent with him earlier. As Javy pulls out of the parking lot he turns to you. “I don’t want you to feel like I only offered to drive you because I wanted to get you alone, but I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Well, more like apologize to you.” You twist the seatbelt nervously as Javy finally addresses the elephant in the room.

“What I did that day wasn’t just shitty, it wasn’t fair to you.”

“I mean it wasn’t really though?” You say, shifting your gaze down to your lap. “Even when we signed the contract, I knew there would be other girls, you know? I mean you have needs and I told you I wouldn’t have sex with you. I just… I guess I expected you to be more private about it since we were supposed to be dating.” When Javy doesn’t say anything you look up to see him gaping at you.

“You thought I’d be seeing other girls while I was dating you?” His voice is touched with disbelief and you try to ignore his word choice.

“I mean there wasn’t exactly a celibacy clause, and sure I never planned on seeing anyone else, but that didn’t mean I expected you not to.” You shrug. “It’s not like your job was on the line.”

“Roadie no… no… I… I never had any intention of seeing other girls when I was with you. I just…” He sighs and you think maybe it sounds a bit shaky. “Hold on,” he makes a turn and you look up in time to see him pull into a fast food parking lot. Once he parks, he turns his attention fully to you. “I mean it. I didn’t plan on seeing anyone else while we were dating.”

“Pretending to date,” you interject and he nods.

“Right, yes,” he says. “Look, I haven’t been in a real relationship in years, Roadie. I just… well I told you some of it already. I’ve had a lot of people leave me in my life: my dad, my uncle, Jake. And I know it’s not a good reason, but I hated how that made me feel. I hated being left alone so I never wanted to feel that way again, and I didn’t want to ever make someone else feel that way, so I decided that casual relationships were the best way to do that. The girls always knew it wasn’t going to turn into anything real, I was always very adamant that they knew that going in, and so they didn’t care if I left, and I didn’t care when I did. And then I met you, and I know it was supposed to be an act, but it, it was the closest thing I’d had to something real in a long time and I got scared. Seeing our pictures in the tabloids, and then meeting people at your job, and meeting your kids, it felt so real and the idea of it ending, knowing it would hurt, freaked me out.”

“I was flirting with those girls before I even fully thought about it. I didn’t even consider that it would hurt you the way it did because I was so busy worrying about how I didn’t want to get hurt, and I’m sorry about that. I really never intended to hurt you. I promised you that I wouldn’t and I broke that promise and I’m so sorry.” When you look up from your hands, you see Javy’s eyes widen in response to the tears tracking down your cheeks.

“When I was a senior in high school,” you whisper and you hate how weak your voice sounds. “This guy on the football team asked me out. He wasn’t the star quarterback or anything but I’d never had a boyfriend before. I’d never even had a boy give me the time of day, and I was so excited that I forgot to be nervous. He wanted me. He actually wanted someone like me.” You smile slightly through the tears as they keep flowing. “He was perfect. He was so sweet and thoughtful. I didn’t really have any friends in high school and for the first time, I wasn’t alone. It felt so nice.” You wrap your arms around yourself to try and keep your hands from shaking. “And then he took me to prom and it was perfect, it felt like a dream come true. Then I went to the bathroom to touch up my makeup and I guess I didn’t take as much time as he expected because when I got back all his friends were high-fiving him and giving him money.” You swallow to try and dispel the lump in your throat but it won’t go away. You shake your head. “Turns out they’d had a bet over it all. It was all just a game to them.” You hate how small you sound but you manage to get the words out. “I felt so stupid that I didn’t see it sooner, you know? But I never once considered it or questioned why he’d want to be with me of all people. It must have been a lot of money if he was willing to put up with me for four whole months.” You’re shaking now. You’ve never told anyone the truth about Andrew. Not even your parents knew, you’d just told them that you’d broken up because you were going separate ways for college.

“Roadie…” You have to force yourself to look up at Javy. You expect pity, second-hand embarrassment maybe, but what you’re met with is white-hot rage. You flinch away on instinct at the intensity in Javy’s eyes. “What’s his name? I’m going to kill him.” You start with surprise at Javy’s words.

“It was over a decade ago, Javy, it doesn’t matter.” You shake your head, trying to talk him down. Javy shakes his head back and then he’s opening his door and getting out of the car. You sit up straighter, trying to see where he’s going and you’re surprised to find he’s coming around to your side. For a second, you consider locking the door in a moment of fear but you leave it. Javy said he wouldn’t hurt you. Javy swings your door open and before you can ask him what’s going on, he wraps you in his arms, pulling you close. You squeak in surprise, your seatbelt digging into your neck at the awkwardness of the position.

“It does matter. It clearly still makes you upset, so yes it does matter. You matter.” He enunciates the last sentence as he squeezes you tight. “And I’m so sorry that that happened to you, and I’m even more sorry if I ever for a single moment made you feel like you were reliving that.” Your heart aches as you lean into Javy’s touch and take a deep breath, breathing in the now-familiar scent of him. There’s a touch of sweat under the usual cloud of cologne but instead of wrinkling your nose at the intrusion, you sink into it, relishing in its familiarity.

***

You’re not sure how long you and Javy stay locked in the embrace but eventually, your neck hurts enough that you pull away. When Javy looks at you he notices the seatbelt digging into your neck and hisses at the sight as he instantly goes to slide his warm hand between your skin and the belt. “Shit, Roadie, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” you reassure him and when he looks at you, you know that he understands that your words are about more than just the seatbelt. He leans his head against the frame of the car and looks down at you for a moment longer before he looks behind him at the fast food place you’ve found yourselves in the parking lot of.

“You hungry?” He asks and you give him a watery smile as you nod.

***

Not long after, Javy’s back on the road and you’re eating fries next to him as San Diego traffic crawls around the car. “Look,” Javy says, breaking the comfortable food-induced silence you’ve descended into. “I know you told Zam you wanted out of the contract, but you still need to make sure you can keep your job, right?” You nod, taking a sip of your drink as you consider what Javy’s proposing.

“We have a better idea of where we’re both coming from now, and I think we could do this right if we tried again, but it’s up to you.” You nod slowly as you take a bite of your burger and hold out the fries to Javy’s outstretched hand.

“I think so,” you say slowly, “everyone already thinks we’re dating, and like you said, I do still need a solution to my job problem.”

“I’d want to propose a few changes to the original plan, though,” Javy speaks up and you nod carefully as he smiles around the fries he tosses into his mouth. “Maybe I’m not your real boyfriend, but I’d like to be your friend if that’s okay with you.” You smile shyly around your straw as you nod.

“I think that could be arranged.” You say and he grins at you.

“Good, and I’m going to be straight up with you. I won’t see other girls. I don’t want to see other girls. And it’s not an inconvenience. You’re not an inconvenience, not to me, and if I ever make you feel like you are? You have full authority to kick my ass.” You giggle and he fixes you with a hard look. “I mean it, Meep, if not you then I suppose Josie can do it, I’m sure she’s dying to at this point.” You make a point to look away with a shy smile when he gives you a knowing look. “And the minute you don’t want to do this anymore? Say the word and we’re done. No fuss, no bus.”

“Okay,” you say and Javy reaches across the console to squeeze your hand in his.

“I’m not very good at this, whether it's real or fake boyfriend stuff, but I’m going to try as hard as I can to do it right this time. I promise I won’t hurt you, and this time I’m going to keep that promise. As the traffic continues to crawl and you listen to Javy chatter on about anything and everything, you wonder if you’re going to be able to keep up your half of the bargain, because while you don’t have much experience in the friend or girlfriend department, you’re sure that what you’re starting to feel for Javy is more than friendship.

A/N: So I know there was a lot in that chapter, but how are we feeling about the big reveal?

[night-heron-writes]

Poor Carl is working how many jobs? And Ferb‘s a food critic now? And I need to strangle Monogram, he‘s the shittiest boss ever.

Perry swordfighting with a swordfish was 10/10 no notes

Also how is nobody on here going nuts about Doof literally saying “commit to the bit”?

Perry and Stacy hanging out was sweet. “Eat my pixels teal boy” had me cracking up

Are they recreating Up! with a cruise ship? Yes, yes they are

The blue danube walz??????

“There’s nothing wrong with unlicensed good”

Embassy of Evil is killing me, where I can I find one and get my License for Evil

“Please do not monologue into the interface”

Poor Isabella, the Fireside Girls are revolting. I know the feeling. That happens to every group of three or more girls, with or without an inator.

Candace’s itemized documentation

Bufords soap pipe

Potato salad monster loose in Danville

Potato salad monster loose in space???

Stacy is awesome as backup for Perry

Miniature golf as one of her special skills

Stacy is a 3rd dan black belt in Taekwondo? With mandatory waiting periods that means she’s been a black belt since the age of 12, so that’s very impressive

Stacy singlehandedly impersonating every OWCA agent at once?

I need a whole series of Agent Stacy

She has a theme song?!!!

Mothman Doof was not on my bingo card

He ate Perry’s fedora?

The two nickels meme in show?

Man OWCA’s haberdasher’s security is intense

Is the haberdasher cosplaying as Perry? The teal trenchcoat and orange scarf cannot be unintentional

Baljeet is not having it with Isabella not mentioning Ferb

Aww they’re helping Baljeet audition for a movie

“I minored in se quiox”

Oh this is very much a Star Trek parody movie lol

Is that the 1812 Overture playing now that Buford gets to make his bread bowl hot tub? That’s a lot of classical music this season

VHS tapes are extinct lol

Suzy beefing with Meep lol

No not the bread bowl hot tub being rescheduled, Buford won’t survive

Mitch is a scammer now lol

With Baljeet’s theoretical fifth season I’m surprised the classical music they chose wasn’t Vivaldi’s Four Seasons

What do we want? When do we want it? meme was also not on the bingo card.

Pity they didn’t do more with Doof singing the trolley song. They did name the episode after a musical after all and I expected more…music

I take it back. The Tidy Up song is great.

Lol the St. Lois Arch being the handle of a briefcase is awsome

“I don’t think nobody noticed just put it back”

Prank Sinatra oh Buford i think you might be misunderstanding things

Snacks in the sink and dishes in the fridge, I think Linda’s tired

We get Vanessa singing yay! Her songs are always awesome (Busted and I’m Me are like my favoriye pnf songs ever)

Brahm’s lullaby. That’s 3 for the classical music this season, I don’t remember any other season having any.

Ooh aquatic action scenes for Perry nice

Isabella’s western outfit is fun, I want it

Candace telegraph texting her mom and Linda actually understanding the morse code

Rube goldberg beaver hypnosis machine

“But sir you can barely handle black pepper”