#at least not from the server as i knew and adored it

[fitpacs]

,

[ms-demeanor]

Atheist condolence card like "sucks that your grandpa no longer exists and you'll never see him again, oh well"

I mean, I'm looking for a condolence card for a Jewish family (found a pretty good one, will be adding a note about a shared memory of the deceased and hopes for the mourners that their memory may be a blessing).

But also I have no idea why people find the concept of an afterlife comforting. Legitimately, that is unappealing to me and the idea that I would be artificially separated from the people that I love and reintroduced to them after a period of separation if there was no need for that time of mourning and loss seems. Bullshit? It seems like bullshit? Capricious and cruel at best?

Anyway when my grandpa died we got a phone call when they tossed is ashes into the ocean and we never saw him again! Being reminded that we wouldn't see him in an afterlife wasn't the sad part, the sad part was knowing that we wouldn't know him anymore, that we'd be on one side of a growing divide, that there was a before and an after and we had left him behind while we had to move forward. It wouldn't have been comforting to think "well perhaps someday when I have lived my life without him, I will see him again in a place where nothing from this life (all the things that I have done, all the things that he taught me) will matter because they were worldly and unimportant."

What was comforting at that time, and after the very many family deaths that I have experienced (and I've experienced a lot! I've been comfortable with the idea that I'll never see my loved ones again when they're gone since I was a very small child!), and what I suspect is comforting even for religious people who have experienced a loss is to be reminded of the people who are still on the same side of that dividing line, who we can still love and adore and support and make memories with.

Anyway. I'm an atheist at least partially because of my grandfather, who was a magician and a skeptic and took great joy in skewering the supernatural. It would be an insult to his memory to think that he was an angel lighting up a star in heaven or whatever the christian condolence cards say.

My grandpa did a sexy comedy magical immolation of my grandmother in front of crowds; there was a devil on the flier.

(grandma's the one on the right)

Pictured: Not someone who had much reverence for death or much patience for the supernatural:

(Funny story, when my dad came to visit this week he saw a 2-post 52U server rack on the driveway from a distance and asked me "where did you guys get the guillotine? Did I leave that here?")

But my family is probably *unusually* atheist and irreverent.

For atheists in general I don't know why people think that it's more upsetting to acknowledge the truth (that once people are dead you won't see them anymore) than to be told "comforting" lies (that you will see dead people again at some mystical place that you have no access to or proof of).

I *hate* hearing "they're in a better place" when I'm mourning someone I loved because that's something that's comforting for a religious person to say but dismisses both the way that I mourn and (frequently in my family) the beliefs of the deceased. They are not in a better place, they are *gone* and I don't want to imagine that they're somewhere waiting for me to join them again, I want to remember them for who they were and accept that they aren't in my life anymore.

"They're in heaven now" "they're with the angels now" "they're with their maker" - none of those things are true and they reflect an extremely limited worldview that I don't share and find pretty insipid actually! Thank you for trying to comfort me you are doing a poor job of it I'm going to go hang out and talk to someone who actually knew them and we'll share stories of what an asshole they were and what kind of crazy nonsense they got up to and what a big, important part of our lives they were and we'll start trying to make sense of how to fill the hole left behind with something practical and joyful and fun and honest that they would have loved instead of cardboard angel wings.

[isa-ghost]

Fuck it, I wanna start something sappy and fun. Reblog this and follow the format I'm establishing below.

You don't have to make as long of a list as me, but go nuts if you want!

QSMP has for me:

Gotten me into streamers I never would've discovered without an intercultural medium to facilitate it. Streamers who I fucking adore, who are queer/nd/etc representation I didn't have before now, who I would die for and will always at least hover on the outskirts of if there's a language barrier in my way

Gotten me into media from those streamers that I would've never discovered otherwise (ex: Ordem Paranormal)

Strengthened my interest in foreign language

Gotten me more into Latin music

Gotten me interested in Latin culture

Taught me even more about important aspects & new perspectives of discussions about race/culture/etc

Taught me more, albeit misc, words in certain languages

Taught me how to identify more country's flags than I previously knew

Made me even more friends and mutuals that I love to see, support, and be silly with on here or in Discord servers every day

Makes me excited to encounter people in real life who have a language barrier with me

Makes me even more excited than I already was to hear languages I don't know spoken in real life

Inspired me to write my first ever *proper* fanfic, the first one I've written in general since 2016.

Inspired me to write *2 more* fanfics besides the first one. Prior to now, I have *never* been a fic writer or interested in being one

Gotten me more interested in reading fics, when prior to QSMP, I really wasn't much of a fic reader unless I liked a certain ship that much

Made me chill with mcyt shipping, when previously I was very strictly against it in any way.

Genuinely started helping me get better at accepting compliments and being more confident in certain things about myself

Taught me how to be more nuanced about drama as well as serious issues

Improved my media analysis skills

Given me endless inspiration for my own personal creative projects and OCs

Somehow connected me even deeper to my religion

Motivated me to try new foods and other fun things

[connorsnothereeither]

was it hard/weird to go from being a fan to a cast member? And what was your favorite part of each?

I mean,,, in an odd way not really? There was a slight weirdness to it in the beginning, maybe, but outside of a few issues, it was honestly a very easy transition for the most part, and I think it’s because I was friends with the some of the cast before I was a fan? I sort of occupied this weird middle space already while I was in the fandom, almost.

I didn’t really start watching Fable solely from the place of stumbling onto it as a fan. I came into it wanting to watch and support my friends. Most of the cast and I were already in the same circle of friends and creators, or at least closely adjacent ones, when the server launched. Jamie and I had been great friends for a few years at that point, and had connections and friendships with a lot of the cast through my girlfriend and other mutuals before even joining the fandom. So a lot of the time, as much as I was active in the fandom side of things, I was also talking with the cast and my friends about the creator side of things (not to mention being a mod in the discord and in twitch chats), and had more of the cast I kind of knew reach out to me and become better friends because I was in the fandom. So I was sort of already a known presence and mutual when I was invited into the cast server as the VA for Deltavera, and after spending so long in that creative space (at least a few months) as a guest voice actor, not much really changed when I was invited as a player character, other than getting my own character. I was sort of already there in a way, I just… got to also be a cast member for season 3.

In terms of my favourite part of each?

From a fan perspective; I love the support the Fable fandom has for each other. There’s such an excitement and supportive atmosphere to the things everyone creates and the way everyone participates in lore together from the fandom side of things. Whether it’s people spending ours in vc’s puzzling out codes and languages together, or the way so many people came together to theorize, to even just how complimentary the fans are of each other’s work, there is such an aspect of community which is ironically not present in a lot of big fan communities I find.

And from the cast perspective it’s much the same. I love getting to see how people react to things I’ve made. I love people translating Telchin passages, or theorizing about little Ulysses lore drops, or make headcanons for him which I always adore reading. As someone who has wanted to be a writer since I was 5 years old, there is an excitement and happiness I genuinely can’t describe about seeing people react and engage with media I’ve made or had a hand in making, and I genuinely get emotional about it a lot of the time. I love being part of something which has a community in the way it does.

[chloesolace]

Is It Over Now? - Homelander x Reader

summary: You are one of the most famous popstars of your generation, a real America's Sweetheart - who also happens to be the ex-girlfriend of the world's greatest hero, Homelander. When you write a song about your past relationship, portraying him in a not so positive light, it creates a shitstorm online that Ashley somehow tries to manage. The solution? Start dating Homelander again. But first, he has to convince you. After all, it isn't your reputation that's on the line.

pairing: Homelander x Supe!Reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: a bit of gore

a/n: Newest addition to my Swift Series <3 based on the song of the same name. This one shot will be a bit different than the other ones from the series, because the song itself exists in the story and the reader is the singer who wrote it (in this fic ofc). Expect usual moral corruption a la The Boys universe.

Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info - Taylor Swift Series

And did you think I didn't see you? There were flashing lights At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight Only rumors 'bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs

Ashley stared at the screen before her, her nostrils flaring and hands shaking while Homelander looked at her with an unimpressed expression. He rested his fingers against his temples in case he needed to massage away a headache that would undoubtedly arise if Ashley started shouting. 

“This is a PR nightmare,” she exclaimed, turning abruptly to look at the man whose face remained unreadable. His blue-eyed gaze jumped between Ashley and the screen, where you were seen on a stage in front of thousands of adoring fans, microphone in hand. You waved at them and blew them kisses as they cheered your name, but the sound was muted. It did not matter, though, since Homelander had watched every recording of your world tour he could get his hands on, so he knew precisely what the crowd sounded like. 

Ashley kept staring at him as she rested her hands on the table between them, pressing a button on the remote in her hand to turn up the volume of the recording. 

“Thank you so much, Sydney!” You said in the recording, continuing to wave at the crowd, before signaling them to quiet down. It did not take long for the cheering and screaming to stop, and you took a few steps across the stage as your expression turned more serious. 

“As you all know, I have been through quite a lot recently. Including a breakup.” The crowd immediately began reacting, expressing sympathy for you before you once again signaled them to quiet down. “But good things can sprout from bad experiences. So I would like to debut a new song right here, right now.” Your fans cheered, screaming your name as the music began; it was a slow tune at first, which gradually increased in speed and found its climax in the chorus. 

Homelander’s gaze shifted back to Ashley, who pressed the pause button on the recording. “She is calling you a ‘lying traitor’,” she remarked. “She is implying that you sleep around and that she wants to jump off a fucking building just to get your attention.” Ashley straightened her back and took a deep breath, burying her hands in her hair. 

“Calm down, Ashley. Didn’t you make her sign some kind of nondisclosure agreement?” Homelander said, jaw stiff as he observed the woman. 

“No, Homelander. I didn’t,” she replied with a voice somewhere between annoyance and panic. “You didn’t want her to sign one because you said you had her under control. We need to fix this.” She pulled out her phone and shoved it in his face. “You are trending on every social media and not for the right reasons. Look at these comments, look. ‘If Homelander can’t even make his own girlfriend feel secure, how are we supposed to feel secure with him?’”, she reads out loud, the panic still evident in her voice. “Or here, another good one. ‘Turns out even superhero men are trash’.” 

Homelander shifted in his seat, beginning to massage his temple while his eyes landed on you again. A part of him loved the attention he was getting. A song about him was proof that you were still thinking of him, and he loved leaving an impression, despite the fact that these words were most likely ghostwritten for you by a lyricist who had never met him before.

“Are you even listening?” Ashley furrowed her eyebrows, exhaling deeply before pinching the bridge of her nose. 

Homelander gave her a practiced smile, the smile he put on for viewers at home every day. He had become so good at it that sometimes it even felt real to him, and he briefly felt disgusted by himself. 

“I’ll handle it,” he said, standing from his seat before clasping his hands together behind his back, cape dangling from his shoulders. “I’ll talk to (y/n).” 

“Homelander,” she replied in a very serious tone, never breaking eye contact with him. “I know you don’t listen to me a lot, but please consider getting back together with her, if just for PR’s sake, and clearing up those misunderstandings.” 

He smiled faintly as he approached her, making her tense up visibly. He loved how afraid she was of him. Perhaps the only thing she was more afraid of was losing her job. 

Homelander placed a hand on her shoulder, and Ashley jumped a little. Her heartbeat quickened; she was afraid she had overstepped, possibly only now realizing her mistake. But his demeanor was calm and collected. Cheerful, an untrained eye might even say. 

“I will handle it,” he repeated, before leaving the room, and a breathless Ashley, behind. 

….

A few days later, you were in your dressing room, preparing for the next show of your world tour. Australia had finished last week, and now you were back home in America, humming soft tunes as you plucked the strings of your guitar to gain some inspiration. Miami was the first city on the list, and although you were never that big of a fan of the sunny weather in Florida, you had made some friends along the way here. 

The dressing room was rather large, with a full-body mirror in front of you and the huge, comfortable couch in the center you were sitting on that dominated the room. Feet dangling from the couch, you continued humming the soft tunes as your voice harmonized with the guitar. You sang a randomly made-up lyric, while the instrument became an extension of your voice in a way a regular musician could never achieve.

A smile played on your lips, which quickly faded again as you heard a noise from outside. Pressing your palm against the strings to silence them, you turned towards the door of your dressing room, trying to listen more closely. First, you heard nothing, but then a loud thud made you jump up from your seat, almost dropping the guitar in the process. 

Someone on the other side of the door struggled for air before a loud shot silenced them. You gasped, your guitar landing on the carpet as you kept your eyes locked on the door, which was being banged at by someone from the other side. 

“Open the door!” An unfamiliar male voice said, but you did no such thing. “Have it your way, missy,” you heard him add under his breath before he kicked the door down. Three men stood before you, heavily armored and carrying guns which were all pointed at you. Laughable, really, considering you were bulletproof.  

Taking on a fighting stance, you readied yourself for the attack which you would not have to wait long for. The man in the front approached you first, firing bullets that entered through your dress but bounced off you once they made contact with your skin. 

You punched the man, using his temporal confusion to bang his head against the other man’s, their helmets not doing much against your superhuman strength. Another one started shooting, but those bullets, too, did not penetrate your skin the slightest. 

Raising your arms, you focused on the bullets aimed at you and redirected the shockwave they created in the air, amplifying it with your powers to hit the three men, knocking them into the wall. One flew threw the open doorframe and hit his head somewhere in the corridor, as the other two were lying on the floor before you. 

You already had a triumphant smile on your face, when you were forced to the ground by a frequency so high, that not even your control over sound could aid you in any way. Releasing an excruciating scream, you covered your ears as you cowered on the floor. The dress you were wearing was now reduced to rags, perforated by the bullets that had passed through the material.

While you were trying to shield your ears from the deafening sound, the three men gathered their strength and got up, pointing their weapons at you again. With the sound essentially putting you out of action, you were at their mercy. 

Then the frequency stopped. Your breathing was quickened and your eyes wide as you realized what was happening, but before you could react, Homelander appeared in the doorframe with eyes glowing red. In a matter of seconds he had halved the three men, their guts and body parts falling around you as you looked up at your ex-boyfriend, not believing your eyes. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, placing his hands on his hips as he smiled at you, drops of blood covering his skin. The same drops that had fallen on your dress, and splashed on the mirror to your right. You frowned deeply, rising to your feet while your eyes remained locked with his, and a grin began pulling at your lip. 

“Red does look good on you,” you said, not at all bothered by the bodies around your feet. Contrary to your image, you were not at all the little sweetheart your record company wanted the world to believe, but you had not graduated from Crimson Countess School of Performing Arts top of your class for nothing. 

Homelander chuckled, letting his eyes wander up and down your body, before locking with yours again. Then, he remembered the bodies lying around you and pointed at them in circling hand motions. “Maybe someone should clean that up.” 

“What do you want, John?” You cut him off, crossing your arms in front of your chest, and he sighed, the muscles in his jaw tensing for a moment. 

“Did you purposefully try to wound my ratings with that song, (y/n)?” He asked, his voice full of mistrust as he tilted his head to the side a little bit, eyes calculating. When you chuckled, it visibly irritated him. 

“Of course,” you said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You didn’t fulfill your part of the contract. I played the part of your girlfriend, and I did it well. Where is the movie deal I was promised?”

Homelander scoffed, looking around the room as if the answer were hidden somewhere around you two. “You know this isn’t only my decision to make,” he explained as if you were talking about who was supposed to buy groceries this week. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, fingers drumming on your arm. His expression turned a bit more serious then, and something in his eyes twinkled. “You actually missed me,” he said with an amusement in his voice that made you roll your eyes. 

Sighing, you stepped around the guts and blood on the floor, making your way around Homelander when you almost slipped on a piece of stomach. Just in time, he grabbed your arm and prevented you from landing head-first in the gore at your feet. You met his blue eyes, the knowing smirk on his lips remaining there as he pulled you back to your feet. 

“Now I even saved you twice today, would you look at that.” 

“Oh, please,” you replied, but couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you, despite biting your cheek. 

For a moment, the two of you simply looked at each other, your gaze flickering between his as you inhaled his scent. You had not even properly registered that you were now close enough to do so. 

“If I get you that movie deal, will you become my partner again? For PR sakes.” 

You studied his face for a moment, considering the offer as you raised your chin towards him. “If you never hire anyone to use that frequency on me again just so you can look like the hero, I might consider it. And if you do use that frequency on me again, you can kiss your ratings goodbye.” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, but there was also something playful about the way his lips twitched, as if wanting to prevent a grin. You two had thrown a lot at each other when you had been officially dating, so you had no problem getting rough, but even you had limits.

“You don’t have to keep pretending to save me to get my attention,” you said, voice dropping to a whisper as your eyes briefly fell to his lips, your own parted. “But I’m sure the internet will love the footage you no doubt got on camera from this.” 

His warm breath tickled your skin as you closed more of the distance between you. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted in the song? For me to come save you?” He asked with a hint of pride and playfulness in his voice while you let your hand brush over his arm slowly until you reached his shoulder. You wrapped your fingers around the golden eagle sitting there, never breaking eye contact. 

“Wait until you hear the other song I might or might not have written about you,” you whispered, the tone in your voice becoming low while your hand slid down his chest. “I am sure these words would cause a scandal from America’s sweetheart’s lips. But that is not the most scandalous thing that has ever left my lips, is it?”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a grin appearing on his lips. “Perhaps I can convince you to release that song.” 

You pulled your hand back, biting down on your bottom lip as you stepped away from him. “Perhaps you can.” 

Chuckling, you left him standing in your dressing room, his scent still ghosting around you as you walked down the corridor. You took the stairs down and reached the entrance hall of the building just in time for your manager, bodyguards, and label representative to run into you, all of them carrying worried looks on their faces, but you calmed them down, stating how Homelander was there to save the day.

As they all began talking about Homelander excitedly, you looked back at the staircase leading up to the room you had just been in with him, brows furrowed and lips pressed together.

Games, you had to realize, were enjoyable only as long as they did not develop into anything more.

Oh, Lord, I think about jumping Off of very tall somethings Just to see you come flying And say the one thing I've been wanting, but no

[kahtiihma]

to my friends on the official malevolent discord server

I was recently kicked from the Invictus/Malevolent discord server and had no opportunity to reach out to anyone I was speaking with at the time before my access was removed. If we were talking and you wished to continue (or if you wanted to start a conversation with me and never had the chance), please DM me here on tumblr or contact me on discord (username: kahti). I miss you all, I’m absolutely heartbroken, and this was never how I wanted things to go. I’m hoping this tumblr message will reach at least a few of you so I don’t lose contact with everyone fully.

To everyone in the Invictus server who knew me well, I love you all. I hope you stay well. Please keep posting flowers and my heart goes out to all of you. You made this community fun and rewarding and I’m grateful for having known you. Goodbye 💕

Details will be provided below.

As many may know, I’ve been a part of the Malevolent podcast fan community for over two years and active in the official Invictus discord server run by Harlan since April 2021. I adore the community and the people there have been so lovely. Many friends have come out of that space and for years I have been vocal about how my priority has always been maintaining peace and nurturing relationships.

This is why I find it very difficult to talk about this situation.

On Friday, July 14th, I was private messaged on discord by Jo (Harlan’s wife) saying I would be kicked from the Invictus server and have my Patreon membership revoked. Immediately upon receiving that message the server vanished from my access while I was reeling in confusion. I think there was implication that I was meant to take the message as an opportunity to leave the server on my own accord but I had no access or ability to do so, nor were any of my responses for clarification given any reply.

The reason cited for kicking me was that Harlan and Jo were uncomfortable I showed interest in meeting them at this year’s FanExpo Toronto, an event we have all attended together in the past. As they did last year, they provided a google survey to track interest and attendees which contained an option “are you interested in meeting Jo & Harlan?”. Since this was the method used last year to headcount the number of people interested in a discord server meetup, I selected “yes” despite having no actual intention of interacting with them directly.

Without going into detail, there have been many incidents over this last year behind the scenes that have left me feeling very uncomfortable about the Guthries and I would rather have given them space and hoped they’d respect my space as well. If they had reached out to me and stated they weren’t comfortable with me attending any meetup they were hosting, I would have immediately respected those wishes and avoided being in the same general area at the time. However, this was the first time Jo had spoken to me in nine months and I hadn’t heard from Harlan in four months. At no point during that time was I given any indication that I was doing anything wrong or causing anyone any trouble so it came as a complete shock to be suddenly escalated to outright banned.

I knew they had me blocked since March this year but respected that as their decision even if the reasons were unclear and did my best to avoid interacting with them while still engaging in the space -- something Harlan himself stated he hoped I would continue to do when they removed my moderator status in March, which I took as his consent and blessing to remain in the server. To be told my presence was unwanted totally blindsided me and left me struggling to understand what happened.

I’m not too proud to say I immediately burst into tears in the doctor’s office I was waiting in at the time of being kicked.

I’m not concerned about retaliation. I’m not concerned with anyone taking my side. I wish they had been better at communicating their needs so this entire situation could have been avoided, but it happened and it is what it is. Currently I’m absolutely gutted bc there were so many people I enjoyed speaking with who I now have no access to nor do I have their discord names to dm them and let them know where I went. I hate that it looks like I vanished without saying goodbye.

[ittovera]

… loading 「 internet romance 」

「 lucifer 」 -> vox akuma

偉いね偉いねご苦労様 ( well done, thank you for your hard work ) -> lucifer。¿? shimon

characters: vox akuma

summary: falling in love with vox akuma over discord.

word count: 1.0k words

content: fluff

a/n: part of my 「 internet romance 」 collection (*´∇｀*) sorry it took so long for release !!!

it wasn’t like you were nervous or anything, but it was always a little nerve-wracking to experience something new for the first time. it’d been a while since you were introduced to the wonderful world of nijisanji, and it was about goddamn time you joined a fan server to meet other fans like yourself.

a spur of fans welcomed you with the discord welcome function. you grinned to yourself, replying back with semi-enthusiastic “hello!”s as not to seem too overexcited.

server daddy: welcome to the server~ we’re elated to have you here 🫶

millayyyy: stop being cringe 😬

server daddy: you’re just jealous you have negative rizz

ennaurrrr: the only person with negative rizz is mfing reimu endou

petra’s wife: stfu fucking enna alouette you literally hate me im not even part of this conversation

ennaurrr: yet you’re here ???

petra’s wife: 🫵 you're 😩 literally 🤢 horrible

server mom: calm down honeys you’re going to scare the new member 🫠

server daddy: okay calm the fuck down, let me talk to the newbie

you: 😃

you laughed to yourself as the group kept bickering in main-chat. it seemed slightly strange, but hilarious nonetheless.

were people in the nijisanji community this wild?

as the person supposedly ‘enna’ bickered with someone called ‘reimu’, server daddy himself, albeit his server nickname, sent you a dm.

his username was actually vox akuma, so vox was probably his name.

vox: sorry about them, they’re always unhinged.

you: it’s nothing !!! they’re super funny, and it just means they really cherish each other.

vox: wow, i don’t know if you’re seeing things or just really optimistic

you: it’s how i roll ✌️ no way you’re one of those gloomy types tho ???

vox: there’s a difference between gloomy and sexy/angsty.

you: is that what you’re going for 😃

vox: :)

you: okay, sexy/angsty, teach me how to have w rizz, if you have it (supposedly)

vox: are you doubting my rizz right now?

you: 🤡 maybe

vox: alright, i’ll give a rizz demonstration. hop on vc with me right now.

albeit a little skeptical at what was about to happen, the adrenaline and excitement from your hilarious conversation with vox fueled your urge to accept his call.

the first thing you heard when you got on the call was the smoothest voice you’d heard in your lifetime.

“well, hello there, darling.”

you were definitely, totally, only slightly taken aback. blushing from your head to your toes, at least that’s how it felt, you muttered a small “hello”, to which you received a hearty laugh as a response.

“told you my rizz was phenomenal.”

“your rizz is literally lowering by the second i don’t even know what you’re talking about.” you laughed, the self-confidence in his statement throwing you off.

“sure darling, sure. and where’s your rizz?”

“me?” you questioned, and he “mhm”ed for you to continue.

“well, babe,” you dropped your voice by an octave, attempting to sound swag, before bursting into a fit of giggles after vox snorted when hearing your voice.

“you are hilarious, i mean it. and adorable, at that.” he said, and the words came out of his mouth with such warmth you could imagine the smile on his face.

as the conversation continued throughout the night, you found out that somehow, you and vox had a lot of the same interests, talking for hours on end, and it happened the next day, and the next, and the next.

vox could feel himself sinking into what seemed like honey, sweet and sucking him in, keeping his heart fluttering in his chest incessantly. he knew it was stupid, to fall in so deeply with someone he’d just met, on discord, too. but it was the way you two clicked, the same conversations on the tips of your tongues and the sound of your laugh.

he was utterly enamoured with you. he groaned as he leaned back in his chair, always confused as to what to label your relationship. he’d done his best to try to push your relationship forward, but he was still unclear on what you thought due to the flirty nature of your relationship. were you serious? were you not? it flustered him.

he couldn’t take it anymore. you’d usually be on call with him already at this time, but something was probably holding you up. he pulled out his phone to send you a message.

vox: darling, are you home yet?

you: you make us sound like we’re married 😭

vox: do you not want to be married to me? 👁️

you: that’s not what i mean !!!

vox: then what do you mean

you: i’m getting home soon, i’ll call you to talk about it 🫶

the last heart at the end of ur message sent his mind into a flurry. what did you even mean by that? you were truly adorable, and there was nothing he could do to suppress the feelings that bubbled up in his chest.

about half an hour later, your call arrived, and he promptly accepted.

“vox?”

“hello. the trip home was nice?”

“yeah! but… i wanted to just talk about us.” you said.

your unsure tone frightened him just a little bit. and with his heart beating wildly out of his chest, he gathered the courage to open his mouth and speak.

“you know, y/n, really, i—”

“i like you.”

and with that, vox stood still for a moment, processing your words in his head. you just said that you liked him. his heart pounded even more erratically, but somehow he regained his calm.

“gosh, darling, you beat me to the punch. i wanted to say that first.” vox mused.

your flustered laugh resonating from the other end of the call only made him fall for you more.

[miniisunshine]

Idk why, but this song feels Mike coded.

While I work on my Kappa x new girl story, here's a little Mike one

Synopsis : "Blow me"

Warnings : P in V, AFAB character, unprotected sex, blow job, slightly dom Mike

Tick, tock, tick, tock.. You watched the minutes passed on the old clock in the living room.

The more you waited, the more you worried about Mike. You knew his "work" was not ethical, at least that's what he told you when you first started dating.

You've met at your workplace, an old fashion diner. He was a regular, you were a server. You couldn't tell if it was the cowboy hat that did it for you, or the fact that he looked like he was hiding something from the world, but you sure knew that he also had a thing for you the first time his eyes met yours.

00:01

You heard keys jiggling and the front door opening. As you ran to welcome him home, you were met with an exhausted Mike.

"Rough one?"

"Yea.."

"Are you gonna tell me one day what cause you to be this tired?"

"I promise, it's for your own good. The less you know, the safer you are."

You sighed, watching Mike sitting on the sofa while you get yourself a glass of water in the kitchen. You leaned on the frame limiting the living room from the cooking area, your eyes scanning him in hope of some type of answers for the negative state he was in.

He lifted his eyes to met yours, giving you a weak smile before patting his laps.

"Come sit Sugar"

You smiled, happy to know that whatever happened today didn't affect his love for you, and you climbed onto him, wrapping your arms around him, carressing his hair.

You knew cuddling with Mike in this position was something he adored, especially when he was stressed.

You closed your eyes, letting your breathing sink with his, until you felt his hands travelling down your body, finding your ass to play with. Smiling into his neck, knowing how the situation would end up, you decided to play the part and started slowly rocking your hips on him.

As you feel him grew harder under you, Mike put his hands on each side of your waist, guiding your body to procure both of you pleasure, while you bring him into a passionnate kiss.

You were both feeling hot, discovering each other's body like it was the first time, savoring every minute.

You took of your shirt, not having a bra underneath, revealing your tits as he watched you with envy.

"You're killing me"

You chuckled, getting a little shy under his gaze, while he started attacking your boobs; squeezing, sucking and nibbling on it.

Letting a small moan, you decided to return the favor by palming his erection through his pants, a minute later through his boxers, and not long after you had your right hand wrapped around his dick, pumping him slowly.

As a groan left his mouth, he slightly bruised your boobs with his mouth, marking what belonged to him.

"Blow me.."

You let another small chuckle left your lips before climbing down his laps, onto the wooden floor, facing his engorged member. Starting with small kitten licks on his tip, you waited to hear his breath fastening before taking him whole into your mouth, taking the base with your hand, following your movements.

Caressing his balls with your other hands, you let a small sound vibrate when you felt his hand grabbing your hair and bopping your head, guiding him almost trough his climax.

Tears creeping into your eyes, saliva dripping everywhere on the couch, you let him lead the way as you were completely hypnotised by the sounds he was making.

As you felt him getting closer, Mike grabbed you by the shoulders, putting you back onto his laps, removing the rest of your clothes exposing your wet pussy.

"Well someone was eager to see me"

You hide your face into his chest, embarrassed by the fact that you were so easily excited by him, as he waisted no time before letting his fingers explore your folds, finding your clit and working wonders on it while you whimpered quietly.

"Don't be shy, show me how much you like it when i touch you"

He smirked, grabbing your chin to force you to look into his icy eyes as he inserted two fingers without warnings, making you gasp. You grasped his shoulders, lips quivering as you couldn't held your moans as the waves of pleasure were too much to handle.

"D-dont stop..."

With his thumb, he kept a steady pace on your clit, rubbing it as you kept rocking unvoluntary on his fingers. With the last strengh you had, you took his member into your hand, indicating you were ready for him.

He took his fingers out of you, putting them on your hips, while you guide yourself onto him, making you moan in unison. Not letting you adjust to his size, he digged his fingers into your flesh pressing you all the way down on him.

Your arms wrapped aroung his neck, you cried out of pleasure as Mike kept drilling into you, slapping your ass jiggling from the bouncing he caused.

Putting a hand around your neck, you gave him a lustful look before beginning to ride him on your own, sending him into a trance of deep pleasure.

As the moans grew louder and the rocking faster, both off your climax approached quicker than you would like.

"F-Fill me.."

You felt his cock twiching as your last request send him to his peak, stuffing you with his semence, making you come undone like him with one last thrust.

Coming down from your high, Mike left small kisses on your shoulders and softly caressed your back.

"You know i fucking love you hun?"

Kinda proud of this one, even if it's a small one! I am open to critics and recommandations, let me know if it's readable or if my story is stuffed with grammar errors!

[thecorpuscorpse]

#6- An Anonymous Source

CW: Knife use and blood, some 'fighting', mild kidnapping

It had been two months since the sealed letters began showing up on Villains bedroom window at night when they weren't there. Each one with a different wax embellishment on the front, made of paper worn with time, and never signed. The swirling perfection of the calligraphy was unlike anything Villain had seen before, just like the words they formed. Five letters were stacked on the desk, and the sixth Villain held by the lamplight, eyes scanning over words they always wished to hear. In brief moments, they almost believed them.

The life they lived was not as tender as the words directed at them. There was no beauty in bloodshed- not anymore, at least. Yet, whoever seemed to be hiding in their blind spot thought otherwise. With how long they ran Headquarters, it was refreshing to have a little spice in the routine of wondering who thought so highly of someone as lowly as them.

After sending their squads out for recon, Villain remained tucked away in their office at headquarters to keep an eye on cameras when one detected movement in the server room. Villain knew each employee schedule inside and out- after all, they arranged each one. Within the orchestrated machine-like facility Villain spent so many years building up, the blaring alarm was akin to grinding gears.

Hero.

Every so often, Hero would figure out a new password Villain set, or intercept shipment plans that then would lead Villain to foil Heros plans, and the process would repeat in a few weeks. It was so hard to find good help nowadays, so Villain found handling Hero a nice break from handling paperwork. There was monotony in routine, but at least they could take their impatience with their anonymous admirer out on the other.

"Dammit... now of all times, Hero?" They snapped as they stood from their desk.

As much as the alarm irked them, Villain was more irritated their work was being interrupted. Scanners failed to pick up any DNA trace, leading them to another dead end. Somewhere, someone saw Villain and thought fondly of them. For a while, the simple knowledge of it was enough to qualm the loneliness, but now was more of a curse. They called the author a coward. They called the letters a trap. Yet, Villain headed down the hall to pursue a perpetrator after they stayed up until four in the morning... again... to read the letters in hope something would tell them who claimed to adore them so.

The door to the server room was ajar, main lights turned out. The dull glow of blinking red, blue and yellow lights cast shadows on the wall in varied patterns. The main lights were shorted, forcing them to identify misplaced figures in the dim light. It only dug further into Villains impatience with the matter. Against the low hum of the computers, a tinny clank echoed near the back wall.

Villain kept steady strides slow, mindful of the linoleum under their shoes and how quiet their breath was. Silence, as well as any leverage, was better than none, and it worked to Villains virtue when it guided the blade to the turned back of who they knew was tampering with their tech.

"I don't have time for you tonight, Hero," Villain said as they pressed the knife against their spine. "There is plenty of work for me as is without you getting involved."

Dressed in all-black, which happened to be quite flattering for the Hero, they tuned after setting their tools down and raising their hands. Villain took a step forward and pressed the edge to their throat.

"That's why I figure I'd lighten the load~" Hero said, offering an innocent shrug. "By-"

"Yes, yes, thwarting my recruitment of more people through disrupting our log system," Villain droned, pressing the blade harder. "Now really, I do have pressing matters to attend to."

There was a static in the air, and not from the whirring machines around them. The more Villain stood in it, the more irritated they got. It showed in the quick right cross-swing of butt-end of the knife towards Heros head before the move was blocked by Heros hand.

"Wow, whats the matter with you?" Hero mused with a shit-eating grin as he twisted Villains arm into a lock behind their back. The knife clattered onto the floor. "Not very like you to 'not have time for me', Villain. Plus, what a sloppy execution."

"You don't know me, Hero," Villain hummed with a smile in their voice, flexing their hand under Heros grip. "So I'll show you a real sloppy execution."

Villain dug their heel into Heros foot, and used the momentum to twist them to slam into the server paneling. With the grip loosened, Villain snaked away and went for the knife. It was only a second more before Villain was swept off their feet- literally- and hit the ground.

"Yeah, that was pretty sloppy too," Hero said as they went to further restrain the fallen Villain. "You're making me jealous, don't tell me there's another Hero you have to go cause havoc for~ Ugh, I'll be heartbroken!"

Villain struggled against Heros grasp, writhing and twisting their body so they could never get a solid pin. While Hero had their brawn at their side, Villain knew it was only a matter of leverage.

"I do, but they aren't a Hero~"

They took the moment Hero stalled in their attempts to pin them down to get their lets out to kick Hero back, knocking the wind out of them. Villain went for the knife again and came up behind Hero to hold the knife to their throat again.

"Bullshit," Hero gasped out, though an amused smile graced their stupid face. "I can barely tolerate you as it is."

Villain contemplated for a moment. What harm would a white lie do when they didn't even know who was writing the letters? There would be no one else to go after. It would be nice to pretend- Villain did it enough as it was.

"Oh, you should hear how they talk about their love for my vile and vulgar ways Hero. How they adore the plans of misery I make for the thousands," Villain gripped Heros hair and tilted their head back to look at them proper. "And the tongue they have..."

"Then why aren't you with them now?"

"Because I'm dealing with you," Villain said as their jaw set. "A thorn in my side since we crossed paths, and always coming back like a damn infection," They brought the edge up against Heros neck. "You are pestiferous- a plague in my life every time your head pops up." Villain narrowed their eyes, bringing small beads of blood against the blade. "And I think I'm going to purge the source tonight."

"Then do it."

Below them, there was a rumble followed by a blaring alarm from what Villain assumed was a few floors down. It only took one distracted second for Hero grab Villains wrist and flip them over and onto their back before they dove behind a rack of server blocks. There was a flash, and the room filled with smoke. The colors against the smoke were disorienting, yet once Villain got hold of their knife, they could barely make out a figure escaping through one of the vents.

"One thing after a-fucking-nother..." Villain hissed as they ran out from the server room and towards the blaring fire alarm down below.

Once done dealing with the aftermath of a blown-apart storage unit, Villain trudged back up to their office and collapsed in their chair. It was now six in the morning, and looking at the camera they had set up to face their bedroom window at home- no letter to be seen on the window. They pushed their hair back with a sigh, before deciding to freshen up there, and continuing their monotonous work for their empire, with breaks reading loving words Villain needed to hear after such a long night.

---

The seventh letter was different than the rest.

It had taken longer than the rest to arrive- almost a month later than the last one, when the others came once or twice a week. Nights were seemingly endless when Villain would simply stare at the window from the camera. They knew if they were home, they wouldn't arrive, and so they worked long into the night, going home every few days to make sure their plants were watered.

Unlike the other ornate and delicately put together envelopes, the newest came in a simple black one. The handwriting was reminiscent of the others yet the words scrawled unsteadily. The droning news anchor in the background discussed the impending weather as Villain attempted to make sense of everything they were reading.

What was said was not the romantic poetry they were used to, of regrets and promises they wished to keep to Villain of seeing them, of truly being with them and being sure there would be nothing keeping them apart anymore.

The signature at the bottom made Villains heart sink. Not because of who had written the confession they read. Not because it was from someone they wouldn't have wanted at all. But because it wasn't a signature at all.

Except a smear of blood.

Villains head felt light, the corners of their vision hazing a little as they tried to make sense of what it all meant. They sat down in their chair, still staring at the letter before them. It wasn't until the news anchor interrupted their broadcast with breaking news.

'The beloved and respected savior of our beautiful city, Hero, has officially been pronounced dead today by coroners after their body had been returned to city officials by an anonymous source. Further details the cause to be released.'

"No..."

They took a long look at the radio, eyes wide in disbelief as their mind began to piece everything together. In a moment, they were at their sequencer and after they got a sample of the paper, pulled out their knife. What little blood left from their fight with Hero remained, and they flaked off the dry remains in the other bottle. Time blurred as they waited, walking crop circles into their carpet while the machine processed the samples.

They didn't see anyone on the cameras the night before. No sound, no disturbance. First nothing was on the window, and when daylight broke, there it was. They hadn't dealt with Hero recently, which they only grew to notice the more they thought.

They couldn't settle down, and any time their office door was knocked on, they would simply throw a book at it and tell whoever it was to bother them tomorrow. Word must have gone around because soon the knocking stopped and Villain was left alone with the machine, which whirred just like the servers did their last night with Hero.

They were pulled out of their mind when the machine stopped, and the face glowed green with the information Villain already put together in their walk about their office.

DNA Sequencing Completed- Results: 100% Match

---

Villain drummed their thumb against the steering wheel of the car. Occasionally, it would follow the tempo of their racing heart, or the shake in their muscles from the adrenaline in their blood. The timer they set on their phone for five minutes was halfway through. Villain regretted even permitting that much time to wait. It had been too long already, and with any more time, they could be too late.

Three minutes and no sign. Villain shifted in their seat, instead now tapping their foot and squeezing their hands together. The last they slept was indistinct, waiting for the right moment to make their next move. A drastic one, which would leave more loose ends than they would like, but it was just as a drastic situation they had on their hands.

Four minutes and Villain was getting ready to get out and handle the ordeal themselves. They checked to make sure their gun was loaded, as they did a dozen or so times before even though they hadn't used it. Before they reached the door handle, the passenger side opened to Villains relief.

"Very good. Hurry up." Villain said, gesturing with the gun to get in.

Five minutes was all Villain needed. As they sped off, the silence was cushioned by the low hum of the car. Villain didn't know what to think. What to say. What if, in the time they were gone, Hero was too? The thoughts were heavy as Villain drove, until their passenger pulled them out of their head.

"I shouldn't be doing this..."

"Then why are you." Villain said, rather than asked.

"Well, you told me with a gun to my head that you hunt me down and kill my girlfriend in front of me, then send my body parts to various family members."

"Good memory, and I will if you make any attempts to run."

"Good to know..." The accomplice said with a tight-lipped smile before looking down at the bag.

"And... I'm helping someone, aren't I?" They asked after another moment of passing silence. "Someone you care about?"

There was a thick lump that sunk into Villains throat. It irked them to know they had to get outside sources with such a high risk, but they were pushed to no other choice. They offered a single, but humble nod before turning off onto a dirt road.

"What the fuck did you say you did again?"

"I'm a first assistant," they said as they shuffled the medical bag on their lap while twisting the handles nervously. "Not quite a surgeon, but I'm getting there."

"Of course, I pick up the intern in the operating room..." Villain uttered as they watched the road. The car, being small, only allowed the young surgeon to hear the remark clearly.

"The operating rooms of the ICU," they huffed a bit too confidently for Villains liking. "Much more intense and less room for error. I mostly make sure the room is clean but I do help with sutures, and other general care."

With a less than patient sigh, Villain parked the car in the driveway and looked the young surgeon square in the face, gun held towards them with a finger threatening pressure on the trigger.

"Keep your attitude in check, and keep them alive." They said flatly. "Both the person I'm bringing you to, and your girlfriend."

It had just been the two of them since Hero showed up battered, beaten and bloodied just two weeks before. They hadn't gotten better and while Villain was good at many things, medical diagnosis weren't one of them. They took leave from work to get Hero somewhere more secluded than Villains home closer to the city.

When Hero was awake, Villain limited themselves to one question because Hero would get winded from speaking too much. Day by day, they learned how Hero wanted things to be different, not only for themselves only, but between the two. How they grew to love Villain, admire them and respect them, to want them yet be restricted from doing so. Hero detailed how they convinced a select few to assist them in faking their death with a glow which made Villain hopeful, but then Hero fell asleep before telling them how it went, and hadn't woke up since. It'd been three days.

With a nervous nod in understanding, the two got out of the car, and Villain walked the man to the house with a gun drawn on them the entire way. Sleepless nights were still to come, yet there was a bit more relief in knowing Hero stood more of a chance now. Villain hoped they didn't make a mistake, for Hero wouldn't be able to survive it.

[caramelstarlight]

I shall keep requesting, fellow Nari fan! Alright, Cyno x reader and Cyno finds out the reader is the designer of TCG cards (character, summons, food, etc.)

sure go ahead. You’re the reason why this is alive lmao.

Very interesting… maybe he came searching for us like he did for albedo for his designs… I tend to have at least 10 paragraphs for these ngl.

Player and Designer

Cyno x Reader | Fluff | <3 | Surpise Encounter (Cyno finds Reader in Pupsa Cafe and he has a crush!) reader hails from Inazuma and moved after the decree was lifted. Reader has long sleeves bc yes.

Surprisingly Cyno was off at the time. Heading to Pupsa cafe to duel more people. Sure the cats tail has many players but it’s too far to travel for just a short time.

You were one of the main designers for the cards. Using your artistic talent to make the games cards beautiful and successfully making it seem to move in different directions. You used to stay in Lambads tavern but the whiff of alcohol could make it harder to concentrate.

Designing another card for a different vision bearer you looked at the recent drafts you had saved. From how you started the pose to the background and their signature card. Making sure it sparkles when they get the dynamic one. Often getting a reserved table in pupsa cafe with little disturbances.

Many knew you were working for them. Always asking you for advice even if you weren’t an active player you sure did enjoy how happy others were and enjoyed your art. You finished your draft looking at it once more before going onto the next one. As cyno stepped in he couldn’t believe his eyes. Who wouldn’t?

You, one of the main people involved in the making of TCG right in front of him? Of course it sounds like he’s dreaming. But you were there. With a few watching you work as they gave you suggestions. Others were interested in the process.

Cyno was different. He had a crush on you. But he was afraid he would scare you since he was told he could always have a serious face. He always tried to lighten the mood with his jokes and cards. His gaze lingered on you as you finished the card. Handing it to the beta testers to see if it could work well and would be balanced.

Getting up and turning around, you almost fell out of surpise and he catched you. All the attention on the both of you as you slightly blushed from embarrassment. He pulled you back up and removed his hand from your back.

“Thanks General Mahamatra.” You’d tell him as you bowed down to him for a few seconds before getting back up. You stayed silent as you both stood there awkwardly. “You don’t have to call me General Mahamatra. Cyno is enough.” He’d tell you.

“I’ll keep that in mind G- Cyno.” You said as you offered him a handshake. He agreed and felt how soft your hand was. His was mostly rough. “Do you need anything? I don’t think I can provide much help for TCG. I’m just the main designer for it. I may be a master player but I’m busy creating cards.” You said as you let go. Waving the server over. Sitting yourself down and let cyno go sit on the opposing side.

“I don’t need anything really. I just wanted to say I love your art for the cards.” He’d tell you as blush slightly covered your face. “O-oh…! I wasn’t expecting that.” Trying to cover your face with a fan similar to ayakas.

He was surprised at how easily you could blush. But he wouldn’t tease you for it. You ordered what you wanted. “Do you want anything? I’ll pay for it. I have a discount and a lot of mora.” You told him as he told what he wanted.

“Thank you for being generous Y/N.” “You’re welcome Cyno. It’s not often I can see you off work. Maybe take some more time off. It would do you some good. I can tell from here that your body is a bit sore and tense.” You told him as you analyzed his body. Your eyes lingered on his chest for a few moments then it should and you covered your face with your fan again.

“sorry for staring cyno.” You’d tell him as he accepted it. Finding it adorable, getting both of your orders as you ate lunch. “Anyways, I thought you would’ve wanted a card so I decided to give you one anyway. This one is quite exclusive. Only a few have these beside the crew.” You stated as you handed a signed card of him that was dynamic.

“You didn’t have to give me this Y/N. You’re too kind.” “Take it as a present. Anyways do you want to come somewhere with me? It’s safe I promise.” “Sure I have another 30 minutes to spare before I have to go back.” He followed you and you brought him to a spot in the avidya forest.

“I thought to show you. It’s a really nice spot.” You said as you listened to the waterfall with slight chirps of birds. Animals were peaceful and he was in awe. He had never came across it. “Thank you for bringing me here. I’ll be sure to return the favors.” “I actually wanted to tell you something.”

You both said as laughter came out. “Cyno you can go first.” “Alright. This may be sudden but I would like to tell you that I have had a crush on you for a long time. I remember seeing you at a public event and I just fell in love instantly.” He admitted as you listened. “Oh that’s what you wished to tell me-?” He nodded slightly confused by the answer. “Oh uh no there’s nothing wrong! It’s just that is also what I wanted to tell you Cyno.” You said shyly as he smiled softly.

He hugged you and embraced it. Staying silent as the peace was comforting. “So… does that mean you wouldn’t mind dating me-? I won’t be a burden will I?” “Of course you won’t. I won’t regret dating you. Nobody should.”

“Do you want to announce it to the public or wait? We are both well known so it will be hard to keep it a secret.” “Does my love need to be a secret to others?” “Well no I-“ “Then it is decided. It can be announced to the public.” You both sat down near each other. Talking about topics that both of you were interested in. Sadly cyno had to leave but the next day it was told and known to everyone.

Whenever he could Cyno would be with you and try to keep you safe. You would have an higher and bigger target on your back. Being someone famous and the General Mahamatras partner could be super dangerous. It could be risky to trust others.

[misslavenderlady]

Love at First Bite pt. 2💞

David/Female!OC & Male!OC/Female!OC

Summary: Sis can't stop thinking about the adorable redheaded waiter that treated her like the queen she is. Once she and the pack get to know him a little better, he'll see them for what they truly are~

This was inspired by @ghoulgeousimmaculate and her characters from the series Party the Pain Away and the various fics that take place afterwards. Ghoulie and I discussed the possibility of having another boy join the coven after so many girls were brought in. Please read part 1 if you haven't yet!

WARNINGS: Fic contains mentions of fear, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics, PDA, mentions of blood/murder, sex and alcohol. This has references to Ghoulie's stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987. Part 3 HERE

"You're serious?" 

"Absolutely! You should have seen him, hun. He was the cutest thing I've ever laid eyes on"

It gave Gem quite a surprise to see her sister bride in such a cheery mood. After the last few difficult months for the pack, she had been worried about Sis and her psyche facing permanent damage. Becoming a vampire came with its own mental and physical tolls. What Cyrus had put them all through was an entirely new level of suffering.

And yet, here she was. All doe-eyed and sappy like a schoolgirl with a crush. The happiest she had been since her resurrection. Usually only being with her babies made Sis act like herself again. This human boy had to be pretty special.

"And you don't want to bring him over for a fuck and a meal?"

"Surprisingly, I don't. At least….not right now," Sis explained. She smiled to herself as she fell back onto the couch, putting her feet up on Gem's lap to relax. "I dunno, he was just such a sweet guy. Genuine, polite, doting. You don't see many boys like that anymore." 

Gem smirked, rubbing her queen's legs as she listened to the story. Seeing her in such a good mood had Gem feel quite pleased as well. It made her quite curious as to what potential could be in a human. 

"Well, we are due for a girl's night out. How about we ask the boys to watch the babies and then you, me, Babydoll and Red go out for some fun," Gem proposed. "You can introduce us to the human."

The mere idea made Sis' eyes sparkle in delight. She was already excited to pick out her outfit for such a special occasion. Something truly special for a well-deserved night of fun.

Oliver's shift honestly could have been better that night. He was out of the zone. Forgetting to put in a large order, giving three different tables the wrong drinks, and getting yelled at by an elderly couple for having the audacity to forget their senior discount. He felt so clumsy and careless. It was rather embarrassing. 

What didn't help was that his coworkers were noticing. They had been in the game long enough to recognize when one of their fellow servers was having a rough night. 

"Hey Ollie!" one server greeted him, making small talk while punching in an order. "You feeling alright? Need a smoke break?"

"No thank you, I don't smoke," Oliver explained as he tried to organize a messy stack of menus. "And I'm fine. I just…my mind hasn't been where I want it to be lately. I'm not usually like this, I swear."

The server smiled and gave Oliver a friendly pat on the back. He definitely had nights like that too. 

"Something on your mind?"

"Well….someone actually."

Oliver knew exactly what was making him trip over himself and act like his head was in the clouds. 

Sis. He could not stop thinking about her. Though he was grateful for her generosity when she paid him a large enough tip to pay his rent that month, that wasn't at all the reason he had such a deep infatuation. 

She had this magic to her. Like an aura of true beauty. Though her curves and her flawless looks definitely showed how stunning she was on the outside, Oliver had a deep feeling that there was something truly remarkable about her on the inside too. 

Growing up, he was taught that you could learn a lot about a person just by how they treated a stranger. Especially if that stranger was a poor, struggling service worker. The world wasn't always kind to people who had a difficult life. 

He didn't know what it was about her, but he just had a feeling she understood him. That she knew compassion could go a long way.

"Well, Romeo, you might wanna get your head back in the game," the server interrupted his thoughts. "You got company."

"Salve signore! Right this way!"

Giuseppe had welcomed a group of ladies into the restaurant, ushering them to the back area just as he did the other night for David and Sis. 

And speaking of which. The lady at the head of the pack was a familiar one. It was her. 

Sis.

Once again she was all glammed up from head to toe, though instead of being out on a date with her husband, she seemed to be enjoying a girls' night out. The three other ladies that walked past the curtain were all quite stunning in their own ways, but he couldn’t take his eye off of Sis. 

His staring must not have been as subtle as he hoped it would be, because while the other girls made their way to the back, Sis stopped in her tracks, glancing his way. Oliver stood as still as a statue, not sure exactly what to do in terms of movement. 

Thankfully, he didn't have to stay like that for very long. To his utter joy, a smile formed across her beautiful face, showing off her perfect pearly whites. Sis crooked her finger, beckoning him in a come hither motion before disappearing behind the dark curtain. To say she enchanted Oliver was quite an understatement. 

Instead of standing around, Oliver hustled to get enough silverware and menus for four ladies. He'd never been more eager to work in his life. 

"Hello again~" Sis greeted Oliver with a purr as he entered the private area. "I was hoping you'd be here again tonight."

"Oh? You were?" Oliver asked, feeling his heartbeat ramp up in speed. "Well, I'm really glad to see you again too, Miss!"

The gaggle of ladies all shared a round of playful giggling, like schoolgirls with a secret. 

"Awww! You weren't kidding! He's a total sweetie pie!" a fellow redhead chirped. 

"So you're the famous Oliver," a brunette with green eyes commented. "Sis has told us so much about you!"

Oliver would be lying if he said he wasn't flattered by that. His stomach was practically doing backflips with the amount of butterflies he was feeling. He wasn't used to such compliments. 

"O-Oh! Well, I'm very honored," he smiled. "It's really nice to meet you all!"

His words trailed off after his greeting. He wasn't sure how to get the right words out in order to ask for their names as well, but they all seemed to get the hint as to what he wanted to say.

"Gem."

"Red."

"Babydoll!"

They all have such different names. Very….creative, Oliver thought to himself. It must be a California thing!

He finally felt comfortable enough to perform his job properly once the introductions were done. As per Sis' request, he brought back the same brand of Chardonnay he got her the last time she was there. This time, he was determined not to spill any on their gorgeous outfits. When each glass was equally filled, the girls all clinked their drinks to share a toast. 

Oliver put in the same energy when he took their orders. Each lady knew exactly what they wanted, and they cooed at him to hurry back since they'd miss him. It put quite a dopey smile on his boyish face. 

Little did he know that his coworkers were watching him with a look of dread in the corners of the restaurant. They all knew the secrets that Sis and her lovers shared. Oliver wasn't ready to see the deadlier side of the brown-eyed beauty. 

"You really are too good to us, Ollie," Sis complimented the redhead boy when he set all their entrees down. Even with a table completely covered in the finest Italian cuisine imaginable, she kept her gaze fully locked on him. 

Almost like he was the one she found to be the most delicious. 

"It's nothing, really! I'm just happy to make up for my wine snafu from last time." 

"Speaking of wine," Gem spoke up, taking Sis' chin in between her manicured figures and tilting them in her own direction. "I wanna see if I can taste the Chardonnay on your lips, hun~"

Oliver only got to ponder what she meant for a mere second before getting a shocking answer. Gem pulled her into a deep kiss, moaning softly as both pairs of plush lips pressed together. Without much influence, Sis immediately melted into it, smiling and wrapping her arms around her lady friend. 

His green eyes were practically bulging out of his head as the two of them began passionately making out just a mere foot in front of him. Oliver turned towards Red and Babydoll to see if they were just as surprised, but found instead they were looking at him as if he were the odd one. They raised their eyebrows up at him, curious at his gawking. 

Perhaps it wasn’t the right time to stick around and just stare with an open mouth like a codfish.

“Y-You ladies enjoy! I’ll be back later!”

Oliver practically kicked up dust behind him from how fast he got out of the private dining section. He had already seen Sis get rather intimate in the restaurant already. But he hadn’t expected to see it between her and someone other than her husband. 

Flashbacks of the last time when she made flirty gestures at him while literally riding David were coming back to him. He didn’t understand the behavior fully, but what he was absolutely certain about was how stunning she was. So confident, so beautiful, always knowing exactly what she wanted, yet still showing gratitude when she got it. 

It made him ever so curious about whether he truly had a chance with a woman like that. Compared to people like David and Gem? Fat chance, he thought to himself. 

Time passed by, and the night was finally winding down. Oliver and his coworkers had split their tips, cleaned up the restaurant, and helped set up for what they needed the next day. In between his tasks, he had stopped in to check on Sis and her friends. They had long since cleared their plates and finished the last sips in their glasses. Yet they seemed to want to stay a bit longer and enjoy some girl time.

So long as it was okay with Giuseppe, Oliver let them be. 

By the time everyone else had clocked out and left, he popped his head in one last time to check on them. To his surprise, the three beauties that had come along for the night had already made their leave at some point earlier while he was cleaning up. The one that remained was Sis, sitting pretty in the booth with her fingers intertwined, allowing her chin a place to rest. 

She was smiling at him again, a twinkle in her eye as she gestured to the chair placed across from her.

“Care to help me finish off this bottle?” she asked. There wasn’t much left in the second bottle of Chardonnay he had delivered earlier that night, but it was just enough for the two of them to have a little taste. Half a drink wouldn’t kill him. 

“Where are the others?” he casually asked as he sat down.

“Oh, they’re outside. Just having a smoke and texting the hubbies.”

Hearing her say that reminded Oliver of David once again. He really wasn’t one to pry, but the curiosity to ask about what kind of relationship Sis had with them all was still there. He would have kept his mouth shut about it if she hadn’t seemed to read his mind on her own. 

She pulled her phone out from her purse, maneuvering around the screen until she found what she wanted. Flipping the device around, Sis showed him some pictures of her with various people. Some he recognized, some were unfamiliar faces.

“In case you were wondering, I’m polyamorous. We all are,” she explained. “You’ve met David already. Those three boys are my other husbands. Marko, Dwayne and Paul.”

I didn’t even know you could be married to multiple people in California, Oliver thought to himself. In the first picture, four incredibly handsome men surrounded Sis. Being pansexual himself, Oliver found himself practically swooning at how perfect-looking they all were. As much as he wished to look as hunky as them, he couldn’t blame her for finding all of them attractive. 

“They have their own partners too. Some of which I get to date too,” she said, swiping at the screen to show more pictures. 

Babydoll being carried by Dwayne, a pregnant Red being held from the back by Marko, Gem and Paul flashing peace signs at the camera, and many more. So many other beautiful ladies were in the arms of these men. It was as if fate had brought the most attractive people in the world together. 

“So the other night when you said your ‘girlfriends’, you weren’t just talking about besties, huh?” Oliver playfully commented. To his delight, Sis giggled at him, thoroughly amused. He loved the sound of her laugh. It was as beautiful as her.

“That’s right! And we all have our own families too,” she explained. She pointed out the various babies that various couples had together. Oliver’s heart was melting at the pictures of chubby-cheeked infants with gummy smiles. 

One of the final pictures that Sis showed off was a family portrait with her, David, and three little ones. He listened with deep focus as she told the story of her family. 

“Laddie is the oldest. I adopted him with Dwayne way back when. He’s also the best big brother to all the others,” she cooed. “The little girl is Eva. My angel on Earth. Her name was inspired by my mother. And that’s Evan. Little mama’s boy in the making, that one.”

“You have a beautiful family, Sis,” Oliver complimented her as he handed back the phone. “I can just tell you’ve got a lot of love for those babies.”

Sis sighed in content, taking a swig of her wine. 

“I really do. I don’t know what I’d do without them….” 

Though talking about her children seemed to bring her great joy, Oliver couldn’t help but notice there was a lingering sadness in her eyes when she pondered the possibility of life without them. As if that very thing almost happened. 

Oliver smiled sympathetically, allowing her to see that he genuinely cared about what she was going through.

“Well….if you ever want to talk about them or anything else on your mind, I’m a good listener! Honest!”

“Thank you, Oliver,” Sis said. She reached out her hand, taking hold of his and giving it a soft squeeze. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

While puffing away on their cigarettes, the three girls kept their eyes peeled for anyone that would possibly cause trouble. The vampires were always on their highest guard whenever they were out with the queen. Ever since the gruesome night of the beheading, they couldn’t risk being too careful.

There was always someone out there wanting to dethrone the vampire king and queen of Santa Carla. They would be damned if they’d let such a thing happen again. 

Sis never wanted to leave the cave alone. She wanted a minimum of two mates by her side, one to watch her front, and one to watch her back. The mere idea of dying again put the fear of God in her. She wasn’t ready to go, especially when her babies needed her to get by in this cruel, cold world. 

But something was different. New. There was a sense of hope for her now. Someone kind and gentle and ready to care for her every need. The girls saw quite a lot of potential in Oliver. He was a soft boy and a bit too innocent for the life of a vampire, but he made Sis feel safe again. Like she could live her undead life to the fullest. 

But it was up to the king about what they would do next.

“So, she really does like him, huh?” David asked, sharing a video call with the three brides. 

“She must since she’s been the calmest I’ve ever seen since….you know,” Gem explained. 

David tilted his head in wonder as he thought things over. For years now, he and his brothers had collected quite a few brides to have and to hold until the end of time. Each one shaped to their liking and trained to not run away. They all embraced their vampire nature and were loyal as could be.

He hadn’t considered the possibility of adding a groom for the queen. 

“I need more time,” he said. “I still hold a lot of pain from what Michael did to me. To our family. Keep an eye on Oliver for me. I’ll stop by during some dates or send one of the boys along. Really make sure he’s right for Sis.”

“You got it,” Red chirped.

“What happens if he gets your approval?” Babydoll asked.

David’s lips pulled back, a devilish smirk stuck on his handsome face. The gears were already turning quite a bit in his evil head.

“Then we bring him home for training. The little wife needs a pet after all~”

end of part 2

Tag List: @ghoulgeousimmaculate @vampirefilmlover @aairadaebak @thelostone91 @palomam18 @crustyboypix @themarginalthinker @britany1997 @michael-after-hours @6lostgirl6 @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @legal-lost-boy @american-idiot-jpg @desoolate @oceansrose2002 @bloodywickedvamp @vigdys @charlizekkelly @crustyraccoon

[saccharinesunsetretired]

Okay disregard my last revivebur blurb i have a better one

After Wilbur death, his partner goes to live out of the smp

there is an incident, but it is relatively more peaceful

instead of UTAH, Wilbur leaves the SMP to go travel in other servers, and gets caught up in some weird shit idk idk. Point of the story— he’s in disguise

he meets the reader as the new neighbor in town! Reader doesn’t recognize him since their sight is balls after the incident, and maybe Wilbur is wearing a mask

wibbbbber is afraid of revealing himself as Wilbur due to fear of rejection so he tries to get close to you while still under the “neighbor” role

yall become friends, and the reader confides in [Wilbur] about her late fiancé, Wilbur soot!

”he was a lovely singer but a hopeless dancer…”

”our poet”

”I wish I had been there for him in the end, at least more often.”

speaks very highly of him, clearly loves him still while Wilbur is actually there and just 💘

OKAY I am responding to this one and probably the last one (later) because I have THOUGHTS

First of all, I love everything about this. Maybe reader is essentially blind after the incident (a fire? a final battle? idk). Reader has a service dog, and they “meet” Wilbur when he compliments how adorable the dog is (mans has a soft spot for animals and you cannot convince me otherwise). Wilbur recognizes you—of course—but how could he speak to you after everything? He doesn’t deserve redemption (he never did quite forgive himself), but maybe he could at least be close to you.

Meanwhile, reader can only sort of see Wilbur (maybe they’re the sort of blind where you can only make out shadows/light), but something about his presence feels warm and familiar. His voice sounds familiar too, but just a little off. Reader can’t quite place it, but they feel safe with Wilbur in a way that they themself don’t fully understand. This means, of course, that Wilbur visits a lot.

It’s a late night conversation, one held over warm tea as the rain patters gently on the roof. You’re sitting on the loveseat in your living room, dog curled up beside you, dozing off. Wilbur sits across from you in a chair, and you can barely see his silhouette. He’s asking you about your life before you arrived in town, asking less like he’s curious and more like he already knows. You write your suspicions off as your own paranoia as you begin telling him about Wilbur.

“He was too ambitious for his own good, sometimes,” you say wistfully, setting your tea on a side table. “That’s why I loved him. He wouldn’t take a ‘no’ from anyone. He had an idea of how the world should be, and nothing could deter him from that.”

Wilbur is quiet for a moment. “Sounds foolish,” he says. His tone is somewhat bitter, and he regrets the words as soon as they’re spoken.

“Maybe,” you reply thoughtfully. “Maybe sometimes…but I think his heart was always in the right place.” You pause. “Even at the end.”

You continue telling him about Wilbur, about himself, though you may not know it. How he was a terrible dancer, how he would apologize for stepping on your toes with a kiss pressed to the back of your hand. How, even when his mind was slipping, he held you at night whenever he could (so tightly, as if he feared you would slip away). How he always spoke highly of you. How he would recite poetry and respond to your light teasing with mock offense before showering you in kisses. How, during the fighting and whenever he was away, you’d receive his handwritten letters.

And then, you reach his death. “I would have done anything to save him,” you say. “Even then. Even at his worst, I would have done anything.” Your voice trembles, and you try to calm yourself with another sip of tea. When that doesn’t work, you find yourself sighing. “I wonder if he knew that. I was never good at telling him. I just wish…I wish I would have told him I loved him more, especially at the end.”

Wilbur’s heart breaks at the words, at the solemn expression on your face. He finds himself asking the question that he’s been dying to ask this whole time. “And…and did you forgive him? For all of it?” His breath hitches in his throat. He desperately wants a yes, but part of him wants a no. Part of him wants you to affirm what he’s believed about himself the whole time—that he’s unforgivable. That it’s a good thing that he died, and that you left.

Instead, you pause. “Yeah. For all of it. And I would do it all again, if I could go back. I would relive every painful moment just to be with him.”

Wilbur slowly gets out of his chair to kneel in front of yours. Hesitantly, he takes your hands in his. “I think he knows,” he says softly. “I think he knows that you loved him. Even at the end.” His breaths are short, and his legs tremble. He knows that you’ll recognize him now, and it terrifies him. The thought of losing you again is unbearable, but how can he watch you be in so much pain?

Your brows furrow slightly as you feel the steady weight of his hands in yours. And then, all the pieces fall together. These are familiar hands. These are the hands that held yours the day his nation gained independence. They’re the hands that held yours again in a dark cavern as he plotted a second revolution. You know every callous on these fingers.

“Wilbur…” His name has hardly left your lips before you’re pulling him close. He hesitates for a moment before wrapping his arms around you. The embrace feels like home. “It’s you.” You can hardly get the words out, too much in shock and disbelief.

“It’s me,” he confirms. He buries his face in your shoulder. “I’m sorry—I’m—I’m so sorry, love. I would redo it—“

“Shh,” you say. “Please. Just…” You pull back slightly and cup his face in your hands. You may only see his silhouette, but you know exactly how he’s looking at you. You can see those brown eyes in your mind just as clearly. “Don’t apologize. I know you’re sorry.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.” His voice is slowly crumbling, and he feels your arms around him once more.

“I know.” There are so many questions in your mind, so many things you want to ask. How is he here? Why has he said nothing about his own identity?

But those can all wait. “Make it up to me,” you say quietly. “Stay this time.”

He nods. He presses a kiss to your jaw, then to your cheek, then one to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises.

And this time, you know he’s telling the truth.

[lenniereadsalot]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💞

Ooo thanks!

1) https://archiveofourown.org/works/55865695

In Which Atsumu’s Intelligence Turns Kiyoomi On - E - Haikyuu - SakuAtsu - 1,685 words

Anytime Atsumu said something that made him think, he always made sure he knew how smart he was in one way or another. Whether that was just telling him he was smart, holding a genuine conversation with him about whatever the topic was, or just simply pulling him in for a quick kiss that he always pulled away from with an adoring smile.

I wrote this one for @mniqqss! I struggled a little writing it due to the concept and due to it being my first ever published smut fic, but I really like how it turned out! If you like Kiyoomi-adores-Atsumu-but-is-bad-at-feelings-Sakusa and some sexy SakuAtsu time, you should go read! One of these days I’ll write a companion with adoring Atsumu and bottomi.

2) https://archiveofourown.org/works/46009780

Kitchen Confessions - T - 911 - Buddie - 1,369 words

Eddie was expecting Buck to ask questions, but it was still unexpected when the other man looks at him and asks, “Hey what do you remember about getting shot?”

He stands there and thinks for a moment. Should he tell Buck he remembers waking up in the ambulance scared beyond belief when he saw Buck covered in blood?

I watched 6x12, immediately decided they should’ve had a deeper conversation in the kitchen, and stayed up until 2am writing and rewriting it lol. I do adore this fic though! I don’t often enjoy my own writing, but this fic has always been one I enjoy :)

3) https://archiveofourown.org/works/40050939

Accidental Daughter - G - My Hero Academia - platonic KiriBaku - 1,225 words

Katsuki is patrolling late one night when he becomes the victim of a quirk accident.

Or

Katsuki ends up with a daughter and Eijirou is more than willing to help a bro out.

This was a fic I wrote for an exchange in an old discord server! I don’t normally write non-romance stories but the person I was paired with didn’t care for romance, so it definitely expanded my writing style a bit! I also just adore the concept to this day

4) https://archiveofourown.org/works/54750349

Stories - G - Haikyuu - SakuAtsu - 1,029 words

In all honesty he was used to it, he had spent his entire life being compared to his twin by everyone after all. His first ever girlfriend, Suna, Kita, heck even their parents had compared them with some remark or another.

He just never expected Sakusa to do it too.

This fic is a lot less angsty than the summary makes it sound I swear- It’s actually very fluffy! I love writing kid fic so this was a treat to write :)

5) https://archiveofourown.org/works/37831144

My Mom Thinks We’re Dating - G - My Hero Academia - KiriKami - 1,088 words

“My mom thinks we’re dating”

“What?!?”

I wanted to write a fluffy rare pair while I was still heavily into MHA and this was born <3

Unfinished but Honorable mentions:

Jealousy - E - 911 - BuckTommyEddie - 1,299 words so far

Writing this one for @librarianafterdark <3 I’m far from finished but I have absolutely loved writing this so far and am sure I will continue to :D

Raising Megumi - Not rated yet - Jujutsu Kaisen - SatoSugu - 344 words so far

This was an idea I had, but TJ who is tagged above, @a-bi-cat-with-books , and @fabled-lady-twilla have all encouraged it and I am thankful for that <3 I haven’t written much of it yet, but I know I’m gonna have a lot of fun with it!

[find-roronoa-zoro]

Roronoa Zoro X CisFem Reader

2

Your mouth dried up and mind went blank as you watched the gorgeous creature before you. It was most likely a uniform, but that black vest and blue shirt unbuttoned just low enough suited him too well.

While you struggled to compute a pair of arms came down on either side of you caging you against the bar, his chest brushing against your back.

"Whiskey, top shelf, neat and a Moscow mule for the lady."

You flinched and turned before catching the reaction of the green haired bartender.

"Sure." the nameless male replied.

"Jesus you can't just surprise people like that." you panted remembering how to breathe again.

"Surprise? You knew I was coming." Shanks smirked wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight.

"I mean yes, but you snuck up on me, idiot."

"You haven't changed a bit." he grinned stepping back to look at you, "Oh, except maybe that little silver streak." he reached up touching a thin river of silver that ran the length of your hair from your temple.

"Shut up." you smacked his hand away, "It's completely resistant to dye apparently."

"I think it's kinda sexy," he said lowly closing in on you again.

You blushed against your will.

"Your drinks." the bartender called regaining your attention.

"I'll open a tab," Shanks replied placing his credit card on the counter.

"No problem." the greenette muttered glancing at you again before taking the card to the back bar.

"You know that guy?" Shanks asked, tone dripping with interest.

"Nope." you answered quickly taking a sip of your beverage, "Want to get a table?"

Picking a small booth in the corner you sat across from each other. Shanks had pulled out his phone momentarily and you took that time to note little things that had changed for him as well. He was definitely working that scruffy look and his hair had grown out quite a bit. He hadn't lost any of that rambunctiousness that made him so adorable and annoying.

His onyx eyes trailed up from the device when he realized you were staring, a crooked grin tugged at his lips.

"Like what you see?"

"Shut up," you muttered glancing back toward the bar frowning slightly when you didn't see the handsome stranger.

"I don't remember you being this mean." Shanks pouted.

"It has been a long time, maybe you forgot in your old age." you chuckled.

"I'm not that old." he protested.

"Older than me." you chimed smugly, giggling at his childish reaction, "I guess I did miss your goofy face."

"You're impossible." he chuckled.

Two menus flopped down on the table startling you and drawing your gaze up to the bartender.

"A server will be with you shortly." he husked seemingly uninterested.

"Tha - nks." Shanks trailed off as the other male just walked away, "Not much of a talker that one."

You nodded following his form across the room with your eyes.

"I swear I know him from somewhere." he rubbed his stubbled chin, "Ah, I think he's friends with Luffy."

You almost audibly gulped and quickly recovered.

"How do you know Luffy's friends?"

"Oh, they help me with some warehouse work occasionally."

If that guy was really friends with your brother you had a good chance to see him again, and you weren't sure if that was good or bad.

Your evening with Shanks continued with casual glances toward the bar. It was terrible, but you didn't even feel bad about it as you watched your date's eyes dart after multiple shapely behinds swaying passed your table. At least you were only checking out one person, right?

"Thanks for the ride." He murmured from the passenger seat as you pulled up to his house.

"Thanks for not getting totally blitzed. Do you need me to get one of the boys to pick your car up from the bar?"

"Nah Yasopp will get it, I already text him." He unbuckled, "Tonight was fun. We should do it again sometime."

"Sure, I don't see why not." You shrugged.

He reached over the center console to get you into a crippling bear hug, "You know if you're ever looking to rekindle things... I'm here."

"Oh, I'll keep that in mind, now let go I can't breathe." You wiggled out of his grasp as he giggled and stumbled out of the truck.

_____________________

"Chopper!!" Luffy shrieked followed by loud thumps up and down the hall.

You grumbled rolling over in your bed, it was still quite early.

"Shut up, yoi!" Marco called after him, "Some people are still trying to sleep."

You'd forgotten how loud this house was. The scuffling of Choppers paws against the hardwood floors continued as your youngest brother chased the dog through the house.

It was Saturday, what the fuck was he doing up so early anyway?

Ace and Sabo's voices could be heard briefly passing by your door. You were going to have to find a way to soundproof your room or move into the basement, though the boys probably wouldn't enjoy having their game room gutted.

Finally, it got quiet enough for you to drift off again.

Today was your fourth day back home and the boys had planned to have a huge barbeque in the backyard. Any excuse to have a party. You were hoping to get some rest before being kept up all night with a bunch of strangers. You'd been gone so long you didn't really have any friends here anymore, aside for Shanks and his buddies.

The soft click of your door being opened and closed startled you from your slumber.

"Uh... sorry." a vaguely familiar voice mumbled as you rolled over, "I was looking for the bathroom?"

Your eyes widened finding the green haired bartender fumbling for the doorknob. Suddenly realizing he'd entered your room scrambled his already confused brain for a moment. You were frozen sitting upright, hair a disaster, no makeup, t-shirt hanging from your right shoulder struggling to find words.

"A- across the hall." You blurted.

"Thanks." the man all but squeaked finally managing to open the door and slip out.

"I told you the door on the left! How do you always forget? We've been here a million times." an unfamiliar voice grumbled, "Oi, why's your face so red?"

"Fuck off." the greenette snapped slamming the bathroom door.

"He went into F/N's room." Luffy laughed loudly.

"She's here?!" the other asked excitedly.

"Luffy!" you shouted confirming you were indeed there, "A little privacy? Do you guys need to shout right outside my door?"

Now you'd moved across the room and cracked the door open.

"Get outta here, yoi. Go help Ace set up the backyard." Marco called, "And take your perverted friend with you."

Perverts? What happened to your little brother?

"Going!" Luffy called, "Zoro hurry up!"

The bathroom door slammed again, you stiffened when knuckles dragged against your door.

"It's just me, yoi." Marco turned the knob, "I brought you coffee. Sorry, it's so loud. I forgot you haven't been around when everyone is here in the morning."

You took the coffee and sat down as he shut the door behind him.

"I'll remind them that you have to adjust."

"It's fine as long as their friends aren't barging into my room." You chuckled.

"Do I need to kick his ass?" he cocked a brow.

"Hah, no he just went into the wrong room." You laughed, "Well, I'm awake now. Nothing like a hot guy seeing you looking like a garbage person first thing in the morning."

"I'll send them to the store with Thatch, so you can get ready in peace." the blond gave your shoulder a soft pat.

"Thank you, Pineapple, ~" you sang as he left quickly flipping you off before shutting the door.

You groaned slumping back into your bed.

Great, now you had to see this guy all day.

[elis-corner]

Okay El, requests are up and running again.

Doc, with Dragon sickness (yes, lotr incoming because I know you love it), who is not happy because he feels threatened in his perimeter, other hermits wanting to take his diamonds and other precious materials.

But Doc adores the reader, trusts them wholly (like Thorin and Bilbo almost, only with romance) and doesn't see the readers betrayal coming

Angst ensues.

:D

I started writing the moment I saw this (totally didn't forget to queue, who would think that?). Nix, you know me all too well! Can I just say how sweet it is that whenever I open my inbox formally again, you’re always first there? It’s so kind of you ♥️

I also can't help but feel like this goes so well with the fact that Doc has been running out of diamonds lately XD

This took a bit of a darker turn then I had planned, so it might be a bit triggering in some ways? POSSIBLE TRIGGERS: Violence, angst, addiction/obsession (if you want to count dragon sickness as that).

Anyway, lots of love, and enjoy!

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He was shrouded in darkness.

Doc leant back against the pile of shulkers behind him, each of them so filled to the brim that even with all his weight against them, they did not move an inch. It was a rare occurrence–that it was night on the Hermitcraft server. What were they trying to hide? What were they trying to take? Doc pressed his flask against his lips, downing another night vision potion. His world grew bright again.

No one would make it in under his watch. No one except you.

In a server full of people, you never know who might turn around and stab you in the back, who will take what is yours, who will shatter your pride mercilessly. Or, in some cases, will break into your stock exchange and destroy your bush. But at least among all the chaos, Doc had you.

Y/n. His Y/n. You were the person he could turn to, the person he could trust.

He tossed a diamond up into the air. It seemed to hang there for an eternity before falling back down, landing in his hand silently. Its crystalline surface was enchanting, distorting his face as he stared longingly at it. How had he only a few months prior agreed to letting people take them from him as they willed? How had he been so foolish as to build them up as a pillar for the server to see? Why was he using them as scaffolding in all his redstone, when anyone could come take or break his two greatest treasures?

But you were a beacon of light and justice for him. He knew he could trust in you to never take anything. He knew you would fight by his side if someone harmed him. He’d do anything to keep you safe from harm.

_. The sound of a pickaxe breaking through tuff met Doc’s ears; a distant sound, but all the days he’d spent gazing down at his creation or silently scheming his plans, had resulted in his hearing becoming better tuned, enough to almost match that of Ren’s.

Doc grabbed his sword, and leaping off his platform he soared against the wind in the direction of the sound. A small figure, with their wings tucked tightly behind them. They tore another chunk of the stone from the patch, dropping it quickly into their shulker. Grian. Doc raised his sword above his shoulder, his line of sight ensnared on the avian he was rapidly approaching. He spied the familiar glint of diamonds in Grian’s shulker box, despite the entirety of the Perimeter being coated in a layer of shadow.

‘You’ve done it now, bird boy.’

Doc swung his sword, blade ringing as it struck against Grian’s side. The avian let out a cry, stumbling to turn and try to locate his foe. He fumbled, trying to find his weapon–bow, sword, axe… anything–, while his non-dominant hand wrapped around his body to try and prevent more open bleeding.

‘Doc, what are you doing?’ he yelled at the looming figure sprinting towards him, weapon in tow. ‘I was just getting some tuff for my ba–.’

‘Don’t play games with me,’ Doc growled, adjusting the height of his sword to match the level of Grian’s neck. Their blades met with a resounding crash. ‘I know you’re trying to take my diamonds.’

‘Diamonds? I- Doc, you took them all when you first dug the place out! There’s nothing for me to take!’

‘I know you’re taking from me! Don’t lie!’ Doc swung his sword in the opposite direction, coming full circle to rest right on Grian’s shoulder, rubbing dangerously against his neck. ‘I swear that if I ever see you in my Perimeter again you can kiss the light of day goodbye.’

Doc heard the sound of elytra cutting through the wind, speeding towards him. He would have spun around, but the way the rockets were being fired, the way the person’s angle was adjusting, he could tell exactly who it was. He knew it was you.’

‘Stop!’ you yelled, coming to a halt a few metres behind Doc. ‘I heard yelling–what is going on here?’ Your eyes darted back and forth between Grian and Doc, the open shulker and the pickaxe lying abandoned by Grian’s feet. ‘Doc, leave him. Let him go.’

Your words cut into him like a knife. Could you not see that this was not your fight? Could you not see that Doc was only acting justly? Reclaiming what was rightfully his?

‘Are you not on my side? He’s a thief, Y/n. Let him pay back what he has stolen from me. Let him pay with blood.’

Your grip on your sword tightened. ‘You’ve gone mad, Doc. Mad!’ You charged towards him, albeit hesitantly. Doc thrust Grian back, and the avian did not hesitate to fly a good distance away to spectate. Doc turned and stared into your eyes, not bothering to block your strike; from his chest, darkness began to seep. He raised his blade once more.

You were worth so much to him, but who said that meant he couldn’t love diamonds more?

‘I have been blind,’ he snarled, ‘but now I begin to see.’ His voice dropped an octave, if that was somehow possible, but even acknowledging that his voice was not the same. It rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest, and seemed filled with darkness and anger. It wasn’t the voice of Doc, your friend, your love, but that of a stranger. He used the corner of his coat to swipe away a portion of the blood, leaving the wound exposed. You would never be able to say you did not regret it. ‘I see that true friends are harder to come by than I foolishly thought.’ He raised his weapon, aiming its tip at your chest. He glared at you from under his eyes, though now they seemed almost nonexistent; instead, they were dark voids that felt like they would never leave you, sullen like his other angular features; his robotic eye was hypnotising–the only proper light source to be seen. ‘You’re just like the rest of them. I will not part with a single coin. Not one piece of it.’

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The sounds of his dragon’s wings flapping as it circled around the flagpole was the last thing you heard before his sword plunged into your chest.

Unlike you, he would not live to regret it.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Sweet Dreams--Part 8

Calum and you have dance around reality for a few months now. But after Calum leaves and returns from a trip, the reality has to be confronted. 

Weeks are passing and maybe more is blooming between you and Calum than might meet the eye.

Prince!Calum x Reader Insert.

CW: Smut across the series. Mentions of parental neglect, and alcohol abuse across the series as well.

Series Masterlist

My Complete Masterlist

_____________

It’s a nerve wracking call, only because you’re sure Turner’s going to laugh. You’re sure she’s going to tell you that you’re probably overreacting. But you want to at least look Calum in the eye and tell him the truth, that you did call at the very least. So you hold the phone as it rings against your ear. You don’t even know what you’re going to say, how you’re going to breach the topic but you’re hoping that it’s not terrible. 

“Thank you for calling Forest, how can I help?”

“Hi, I’m calling trying to get in contact with Turner. Is she available by chance?”

“Oh, uh, one second. I believe so.” 

The rustling carries on. You can hear the chatter of patrons and servers alike mingling in the background. Dropping your head against the door, you wait with a thundering heart. Perhaps lightning could strike you and save you from your own anxiety and from the potentially embarrassing moment. But you doubt that the world would be that kind to you. 

“Turner speaking.”

“Hi, Turner,” you greet, picking your head up sharply. You feel a small tweak run up the back of your neck at such a sharp movement. At the supply of your name in return from Turner’s greeting, you pause. How are you going to ask this?

“Is everything alright?” Turner asks in the silence. 

“I think so. I-I’m calling because my boyfriend’s let me know about some photos that have surfaced of the two of us on a date. And I-I guess I’m calling to help placate his worry that it’s going to impact my ability to start with Forest.”

There’s a soft chuckle that echoes from the receiver. “Oh, no need to worry here. Not about that--what you decide to do on your own private time is truly none of our business. Of course, should you start working here, and feel that patrons or even staff are pressing hard on that boundary or things get out of control due to your relationship with the Prince, do let me know.”

There’s an exhale, you can feel it pressing at your shoulders. But you hold the wince at her words of ‘the Prince’. “I take it you already knew?”

“It may have come up in discussions during the hiring process and the impacts to you and the business. But I remain steadfast in the decision to add you to the Forest family.”

“Thank you, Turner. I appreciate it. Should anything get too out of hand, I’ll definitely let you know.”

“You are the second person to call today though, about your start here, at Forest. Seems like you are adored mightily.”

“The second?” you question. Calum promised he wouldn’t do anything else behind your back, that he’d only help when you asked him to help you. 

“Your current boss thinks highly of you, dear. Is there anything else I can help with by chance? We’ll talk more about where you’re comfortable once you’re trained up on the line. Should you get to the floor and it gets bad, we’ll do what we can to accommodate you. But I think it might be best not to worry about the shadows we can’t see.”

You nod, finally letting the exhale push out from your nose. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks again, Turner. Hope the rest of today is good for you.”

“Thank you. Same to you. We’ll chat again on your first day.”

The call ends, a three tone beep letting you know that the other end has disconnected. Part of you wonders what Janet would’ve called about, what she might’ve had to say, but asking feels like too much of an overstep. Whatever Janet had to say didn’t appear to be bad, or you think Turner’s choice in words would’ve been different. Though it would be easy to ask Janet about the contents of the conversation, you don’t think it’s worth pushing. If Janet wanted you to know, she’d tell you. If Turner wanted to divulge more, you think she, too, would’ve given more. So you leave it where it is, lay it to rest there in the single sentence Turner gave you. 

You’ve got one week left. A week left and then there won’t be any more night shifts for you. A week left taking breakfast orders between batches of biscuits. A week left of whatever it is that you and your coworkers have fallen into--Calum called it family. Said you were allowed to call them friends. But worry is a loud beast. Wouldn’t it all feel way too awkward? Wouldn’t it be better if you kept distant? Yet, you can’t help but wonder who else will tease like Declan, or Yvonne, or Crypus do. Who else is going to look out for Val? Who else is going to keep Janet from going insane with scheduling issues? 

There’s no staying though. You know you can’t stay, not for what you want.  Someway, they’ll take care of each other. It is your prayer, your hope. As you slip your phone back into your pocket and play with the ring of keys in your hand, you hope that they always find a way to take care of each other long after you’re gone. 

“Groceries won’t get themselves,” you whisper to yourself. 

It’s so strange, that the world keeps turning. The creak of your bedroom door closing behind you is faint--so much so, that you’re not sure if you actually heard it or if you’ve imagined it given all the other times you’ve heard the sound. Above the living room, you can hear the steps of Josie. You think it’s her day off from work, but you’re not entirely sure about that. She could’ve gone out earlier before you got up and come back. In the hallway, you know the breeze will be starting to stiffen. You suspect you might even find the neighborhood cat curled up on a step trying to soak up the last of the sun’s warmth. 

And yet everything just keeps going around and around. You along with it. The way it’ll always be you’re sure. 

The cat hardly looks up at you as you pass it. The bowl of water is full. There’s pieces of food in the corners and you wonder if someone recently left some behind. But you make a note to add at least a can or two of food to your grocery list. It won’t hurt to have the extra for when the bowl empties. The wooden stairs creak under your weight but carry you steadily down. 

Everything keeps turning--round and round. The aisles are bright. The teenager who checks you out looks bored as they scan bread, meat, the fruits, vegetables, and even the snacks. They don’t blink at the cat food you’ve put on the conveyor belt either. There’s some solace, you think, as you carry your bags back to the car, that at least there’s some normalcy. When you return, you expect that the cat’s long gone. You expect that you’ve bought just a hair more than your portion of the fridge can handle and will need to hurriedly eat something to make it all fit. It’s like clockwork as you snack on the page of baby carrots that are the culprit this grocery trip. 

Your phone chimes from the counter; you watch it light up as you work on getting the box of corn dogs that you shouldn’t have bought but did so anyway into the freezer. Your first instinct is that it’s Calum. He knows your schedule just like you do. But with the box snugly fit into the freezer, you lift it to find a message from Cyprus. You’d given your number to her should she need you to cover a shift. No one had yet to contact you outside of job needs. Until now. 

Wednesday. 7:30 PM. Vivant Pub. There will be no ifs, no ands, no buts. 

 What if I have ifs, ands, and buts? you respond but make sure to add a reminder to your calendar. You work that Tuesday, but don’t not Wednesday night. 

You better leave them at your house, Cyprus answers. 

Your fingers hover over your keys. You want to ask what this is about. You knew the group got together occasionally for drinks or lunch, but those gatherings were always planned aloud in the kitchen with everyone bustling in and out to set tables or clock in and out of their shift. You have never been able to attend given the way your schedule falls. And if you had been able, you usually declined to get more sleep in your day. 

Who else is coming? you ask in return. Declan’s on my shit list as you know. 

It’s a small get together. You can’t use catching up on sleep as an excuse though. Declan knows he’s supposed to behave. Or I’ll unleash hell on him. 

Vivant’s kind of far out though. Wouldn’t Tootsie’s be closer? Vivant is a bar forty minutes out--about three cities over. It’s not classier than Tootsie's in the sense that Vivant still serves a similar menu to Tootsie's; it’s just newer. They’re able to pull in more live events and host theme nights as a way to garner patrons. It’s upscale in a way that no pub really ought to be, but it makes sense for the town it’s in. You’d heard about it opening earlier in the summer, but hadn’t given it much thought given the options around town. 

I mean it is, but I’ve never been to Vivant. So, you’re coming with me. Done deal.

You could tell her that you still need to meet with your siblings and see if there’s anything they need for back to school. You could tell her a thousand things to get out of it. Yet the echo of Calum’s word rings: They’re your friends. So you don’t tell Cyprus that you’ve got other things you have your agenda. You don’t tell Cyprus that she really knows how to drop an invite. You don’t tell her that you’ve got worry in your stomach like lead about leaving or about moving on from their community and how you don’t want to make things awkward when you leave the job, but aren’t really gone. 

 Instead you type back two words: Done deal. 

The conversation lies there, with agreement, well after you call Calum back to update him about the conversation with Turner. The agreement you’ve made with Cyprus closes on those two words. Because maybe you all are dysfunctional, and maybe you all are also family in the way you never noticed it until it was time to leave it. 

When Wednesday rolls around, you find yourself staring up at the ceiling of your room. Though Calum had asked if you were going to stay, you declined. He had plans for the evening anyway, and you didn’t want to be in that castle with nothing to do. Though you knew Calum was working on the shed for you in the garden, it was still not done. There’d been some big questions about getting the unit powered, whether a line could split off from the main building and what would that mean in terms of extending the timeline. And even if you did decide that you’d wait around in Calum’s room, he’d only be there for an hour or two max after you woke up before having to leave for his plans. 

The evening sun is lower than before; you can tell by the shadows. The first sign that summer had been pushed out. Fall was creeping in and would consume the heat and bright sun in just another couple weeks. You didn’t mind the crisper evenings or the brisk mornings. Summer’s heat clung to you, like children begging for candy in a grocery store. Fall feels like an opening, a rush of something that’s not come but on the way. Fall feels like promise. 

“Why aren’t you here?” Charlie asks over the phone. After eating and getting dressed, you called after Charlie and Teagan’s dinner. You wanted to make the most of the time you did have before needing to head out to Vivant’s. Though, you preferred to meet Charlie and Teagan in person for back to school stuff, you wouldn’t be able to make that drive, see them, and get out on time. 

“Some friends asked me to go out with them.”

“But you always make our list together,” Charlie comments. 

“I’ll be back Friday to finish it in person, Charlie. Just be thinking about it, okay? Like if you need a new backpack or a new pencil holder. Just think about it.”

“Oh, okay.” You’re not sure if the answer has totally placated him, but he seems to get it in the interim. 

“I want socks,” Teagan interjects. “With the lace on them. I saw a girl wear them today and they’re so cute!”

You snort. You’re glad Teagan’s not asking for anything outlandish and that she seems unphased by the slight change in the normal routine. She’s always had a more level head, but you know that at the end of the day she is still a kid. You always want her to be a kid. So lace socks it will be. “Got it, Teag.”

“Oh! Our uniforms changed colors this year,” Charlie interjects with enthusiasm. 

“Did they? What color are they now?” you ask and it launches Charlie into a discussion about how the grade levels get a different school color to denote their grade. Charlie’s traded in pale blue for purple this year. You whistle at the upgrade, even though you knew his uniform would change colors. Teagan grumbles that she’s still stuck in white and how it’s not fair that her color is boring. 

“You’ll get a new exciting color soon,” you state as comfort. 

“Yeah, I will. Just sucks right now,” Teagan comments. “Charlie, that’s gross!”

“I had a booger,” Charlie returns. 

“Get a tissue then! Ew. Give me the phone. You need to wash your hands now.”

The good thing about Charlie and Teagan is that there is no dull moment. There's a shuffle of the phone before Teagan’s voice floats through again. “You promise to get us Friday?” she asks. Her voice is soft. 

Your heart thunders at the sound of her question. What happened? You don’t want to think the worst. You keep telling yourself not to think the worst. Thinking the worst is only going to serve bigger problems. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask. Your mouth is dry as the words form. 

“Just--just promise you’ll get us Friday.”

“I will. I promise. Teagan if anything is going on, you can tell me, you know that right?” Please just tell me, you beg internally. 

“I know.” 

You worry about the sigh. You worry that if you push her too hard she’ll clam up on you, shut you out entirely. “We can go anywhere you want Friday, okay? Anywhere.” 

“Just want to see you,” Teagan responds. 

“Hands are clean!” Charlie announces as he gets closer to the phone. Teagan’s plea gets lost in Charlie’s new demand that he get cool tie dye socks. It takes every ounce of pressure to keep your mouth shut. The muscle in your jaw twitches. It’s not the time for tie dye socks, but Charlie goes on and on and Teagan laughs. The window’s closed, the moment gone now. You can’t push her even if you want to. Even if it burns the tip of your tongue. So you let Charlie rant on about the socks. 

You know colors are well outside of the regulation for the school uniforms but that’s a problem for Diana and Melvin. You’re getting him the tie dye socks at the end of the day. You talk for another twenty minutes before you have to get off the phone--most of the conversation revolves around their days at school. You listen intently to the way Teagan speaks though. She’s getting along with her friends and so far has not had any issues with the teachers. It still doesn’t leave you as you hang up about her soft plea that you pick them up Friday. That she needed to hear your promise. 

“Just let them be okay,” you whisper to the silence of your car. You just need them to be okay. 

Vivant is more packed than anticipated. The parking lot looks like it could spill over at any second, cars pulled and backed down the aisles. You circle through the four lanes and manage to catch a space between two SUV’s. It looks like a close call, but street parking is on a meter, which you know will be a pain to monitor--sober or drunk. So you make the spot work and carry on towards the door. The music is spilling out from the inside of the pub, thanks to the outdoor patio. People stand outside, drinks in hand as well.

You hate to admit that it is a nicer appearing place than Tootsie’s as you step through the door. It’s not as crowded inside as the outside appears to be. Not at the front, but as you push through the initial thin crowd and move deeper, you see the bodies lined at the bar. It looks like most people are still getting the night started. You peer around, trying to see if you can spot Cyprus or Declan, since they’re the only two you know that are going to be there. But so far, you’re coming up empty handed. 

Your phone shakes from your pocket and you take a moment to pull it out. Back patio, near the fire pits. It’s from Cyprus. A picture follows it up of her and Declan, grinning hard into the camera. We may have gotten started without you. Sorry! 

Typical, you send back but smile at the thought of them apologetic about already being a drink in or so. Grabbing a drink, be out soon. You settle in at the bar at a clear corner. There’s two bartenders working. One that looks a little bit older than the other. The younger one slides to you almost immediately after you press into the wooden counter. “What can I get you started with?”

“What’s on draft?” you ask. With the options listed off and your ID checked, you settle on Guinness. 

“Opening or closing that tab?”

“Closing,” you answer. 

“You got it. Thanks for making our lives easier,” the man laughs. His curls are wild around his face, resting against his shoulders. A scrunchie lives on his wrist but it seems to be more decorative as he never reaches for it to secure up his hair. Though, you wonder if the black velvet with what looks like stars on it might be indicative that the scrunchie was gifted by someone important. 

“Any time,” you return, singing the receipt. “Best of luck out there.” You tip the glass to the people still pouring around the bar. 

“We accept cash, cards, and prayers,” he snorts before tapping onto the bar and moving on. 

You push on through the thickening crowd until you’re deep at the doors that lead outside. The rush of warmth and the breeze mix as you push open the doors. To your right there’s a hodgepodge of people clustered together. No one you recognize but before you can even fully look left a cheer erupts. You catch your name in the mix, spinning and there--a good fourth if not half of the kitchen staff are bundled up on the left side of the patio, surrounding two fire pits. There are balloons, a set that says congrats, tied to a pole. They bump into each other with another slight breeze. 

Cyprus reaches first you first, grabbing your arm to bring you closer. “Don’t act so shocked,” she laughs. 

You watch the crowd, here assembled for you. “I-I am shocked,” you return. There’s a mix of emotions--joy to see all these folks rallying for you specifically. But you can see just under that is the sadness of knowing you’re leaving. Friday’s the last day for you; the end of the era. You’d pulled out all the chef’s coats already, washed and pressed the ones that you plan to turn in tomorrow. Janet’s let you have until Monday to turn in everything.

But there’s that crowd--smiling and cheering at your entrance. There’s Cyprus pulling you in and and in. You’re buried in hugs. Declan wraps you up first, arms swaddling you. “I’m going to miss you. Even if you were a stick in the mud sometimes,” he teases. 

“I’ll still be around to be a stick in the mud,” you laugh. “But I’m going to miss you too.”

Yvonne catches you next. Her arms rubbing over your back. “It doesn’t feel real,” she whispers. “I’m happy for you though. So happy for you.”

You’re shuffled from person to person, hugs and congratulations given the entire way. In the back though, you spy Calum. The baseball cap and sunglasses do well to keep his identity concealed to the outside, but you watch the way he watches you. The squish of his cheeks as he laughs along with Delcan about something that’s been said, but his gaze doesn’t fall from you for too long. You feel it, even through the cotton of your shirt. Calum’s adorned in a green flannel open over a black tank. It’s the most casual you’ve seen him in a while. He looks good, like he could fit in with the crowd around him. 

Val’s the last person before you reach him. Her hug is shorter though as she pulls back, she punches at your bicep. “I’ll be taking your spot. Still not going to give up that biscuit recipe?”

You laugh. “Family secret. Haven’t heard back about a secret brother though, so I fear your chances are growing slimmer for a sequel.”

“I’ll take a sister too,” Val snorts. She pats the spot she hit and then nods over her shoulder. It’s always obvious, you know. The way you and Calum are always pulled in close to each other, without thought. It’s easy. It feels right to keep close when he’s around. 

You roll your eyes, but walk on until you’re just a couple steps from Calum. Declan clocks your approach and pats Calum’s shoulder before stepping away. A declaration of needing another drink is his departure from the group. “You said you had plans,” you comment around a sip of your drink. 

“They fell through,” Calum returns with a grin. 

“Nice of you to take the time to join.” You take another step closer. The fire pits aren’t on, not yet this early in the season. It’s not cold enough yet. You give it another few weeks and they’ll be on in full force. Even still, Calum’s warmth radiates. You feel drawn into it like a moth to a light. You want to chase it and have it bathe your skin eternally.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Calum sets his bottle down, the Corona seemingly not interesting anymore. His embrace is tight. His cologne filters into nose as you wrap your arms around him too. 

Calum presses a kiss to your temple as he pulls away. The brim of the hat bumps you just a little with the action. “Don’t let me hog you though. You’re the person of the hour. I’ll be here.”

“Awkward?” you ask, eyes trailing down to his lips. It’s a brief look before you look back up at his face. 

“No, they’re cool. I’m cool. But I know this is your time, so I’m just being mindful of that.”

“I appreciate that. Can I kiss you? Before I romp around.” It’s public, you know. But the desire stirs in the pit of your stomach and it’s crazy to think that the slight dampness from his drink makes the pink tint of his lips that more alluring. 

His palm is warm on your cheek. “You don’t really have to ask, baby. Of course.” 

The press is soft--the taste of his beer coating his lips. You know your lips are bitter too. But you revel in the embrace. Calum’s grin brightens his face as you pull away. “Love you,” he whispers. 

“Love you,” you return just as softly. There’s part of you that waits for the teases, a whistle or comment. But there’s nothing but chatter around you. 

As you’re reabsorbed back into the crowd, you get circled. Declan starts the chain--a retelling of all the work stories they have about you. The first time you showed up on the job felt rather boring to you. You’d put in the code to get through the gate, walked into the kitchen, and noticed a note from Janet about the times that you needed to be mindful of. She’d compiled a list of the normal breakfast that everyone had. You stared at the list, memorizing it and then out of boredom dug out what you needed to make biscuits. The door opened to the kitchen in a rush as you pulled the second batch of biscuits out and there Declan stood, sniffing like a dog chasing a scent. When he asked if he could try one, you shrugged and quipped back, I’m sure you could. But if that’s asking for permission, we should try again. Declan howls even as he retells it, how he’d been so shocked at your dry wit, but that he knew from that day on that he’d always like you. That Declan knew you’d be someone special--even if you were a tough nut to crack. 

Around and around you hear stories of how touched people were at your effortless grace--how you’d helped Cyprus with her hosting uniform when her hands had been aching and cramping all day. How you’d been the first person to greet Yvonne on her first day--asking her if she’d eaten before arriving and if she needed anything. You’d assured her that the job wasn’t too bad, as long as she could cook and follow directions. The more and more you hear--how you’d helped Kennedy change his flat tire, or sat with Jennifer’s kid when she interviewed--the more you realize that as boring as you called your life you’d been a force of kindness. You’d assumed anyone would’ve done the things you did, but you can see now just how impactful those actions were. 

You still want to think that anyone would’ve done those things. You still want to believe that everyone has that same kind of grace. But you realize maybe that it has been something about you. Maybe it’s okay that your life felt boring, and maybe even as shitty of a road it’d been previous, it’d all led to this. To the invisible threads that connected people to each other. One simple act of kindness can be the difference in the universe. It’s all invisible strings around you and you are at the center--tethered to people in ways that felt so mundane to you, but now you realize are much more significant. 

“Any stories you want, or can, share?” Declan questions. He looks over to Calum, who’s kept the outskirts as promised. “I think we’re all curious how this came about.”

“Cake,” Calum returns with a laugh.  

“Technically, a sandwich,” you correct. “You stumbled into the kitchen drunk one night to make a sandwich and hadn’t seen me.”

Calum snorts at the correction, “And you told me that you could lead a horse quieter through the castle. But then I asked a couple weeks later for their help baking a cake for my mum’s birthday.”

“I still uphold that I could've led a wild horse quieter through the castle than you making that sandwich.”

“If I’m honest, you probably could’ve,” Calum laughs. “But it’s, uh, not scandalous.”

You know how scandalous it actually is; the words exchanged in the heat of the moment, how you two promised to consume each other-- from flesh down to the bones. But you know in reality it was the conversations, how the interest started was the way that Calum wanted to talk to you more and more as the weeks went on. It’s how you wanted to come in earlier to talk to Calum too. The truth, sometimes, is boring. “I liked talking to him,” you confess. 

“I liked talking to them,” Calum states. “Didn’t hurt that the cake didn’t turn into a disaster.”

You throw an elbow back just a little to nudge Calum’s rib. “It only didn’t turn into a disaster because I was there, Mister Are-You-Sure-We-Need-Baking-Soda?”

“It was a valid question,” Calum huffs.

“Cakes need to rise.”

“I know that now. Thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Cyprus fake gags. “I love your love. But speaking of cakes, I do have cupcakes for us to enjoy as well. Please eat them so I do not take them back home. I do not need 2 dozen cupcakes.”

The group migrates over to the boxes, next to the balloons. A few cliques form as people take their respective treats. By the time you get your hands on one, the first dozen and a half is done. You pluck up a vanilla one and get half of it down in one bite. You know the bakery Cyprus got them from, and it’s just as good as you remember them being. 

“Need another drink?” Calum asks. You finished yours a bit ago, but hadn’t made moves to go inside for more. 

“No, no I’m good. Thank you though.”

“Of course. I’m going to go inside for a second, I’ll be right back. Do you want something else even if it’s not another beer? Soda? Water?”

“Uh, a Coke would be great.” After the taste of the cupcake, you want something sweet.

“A Coke it is.” Calum squeezes your hand before slipping inside of the bar. The conversation surrounding you settles to how kids are doing. You listen to the excitement about teething and first steps, alongside the celebrations of the first couple weeks of school being survived. There’s fear though about children getting sick and bringing it home. Parents swap secrets and tricks to help keep sickness at bay. All of it reminds you of Teagan and Charlie. But specifically the plea Teagan had. 

“Baby, you okay?” the question is soft.

As you blink, you realize a cup of fizzing soda is in front of you. You’ve lost track of the time you’d spaced out. “Yeah,” you answer slowly to the voice--Calum’s you’re sure. It’s not that you aren’t okay. You just know that as you answer this, you are opening up to a much deeper line of questioning. Calum won’t let the topic go easily. 

“You sure?”

Not answering Calum will cause him to worry. Answering Calum will cause him to worry. There is truly no winning in this regard at all. You’ll be honest though. “Yeah, just. I'm a little worried about Teagan is all.”

“If you need to swing by and see them, I don’t think anyone would mind. But if you want to say, just know I’m here for you.”

“I’m going to see them Friday. I’ll be okay.”

Calum’s hand is warm as it surrounds yours. He squeezes only for a moment or two, but it’s enough that you know he’s there for you. “Do you want to stay? I can fake sick.”

A soft chuckle leaves your throat. You squeeze back at Calum’s hand before threading your fingers through his. “I don’t think you have to go that far. I didn’t expect you to take it easy,” you comment, looking now at the clear glass in Calum’s hand. 

“Meetings in the morning, unfortunately. Or else I would’ve gone much harder.”

“Getting older sucks, don’t it?”

“Only a little bit,” Calum laughs. The evening winds down slowly--it starts first with the parents needing to get back to their children, then the people who have morning shifts, and then the people who have respectable bedtimes. You stay behind to help clean up, even though Cyprus and Declan both tell you to leave several times. It’s not a big clean up. Calum takes the last cupcake so they can break down the boxes and toss them into the trash. You unravel the balloons from where they’ve been tied down and tie the bunch around your wrist. 

In the walk back to your car, Calum at your side, you pause to watch Declan and Cyprus head to their respective cars. There’s laughter between them, you hear it echoing against the night. You hope not to forget that sound.

 “You’re somber,” Calum notes, paused behind you. 

“I’ve never had people care about me leaving a job like this before. I mean sure, Ms. Shirley was sad to see me go, but she knew that I wouldn’t be there forever.”

“It’s like I said before. They’re your friends, baby.”

“I guess I just wish it didn’t take me leaving to realize it.”

“Well, you still got time to make it work, baby. You’ve still got time.” 

Time is such a funny word and concept. The seconds pass in the blink of an eye. The minutes fall like sand. The hours move like a breeze. You know it’s there and then it’s gone. You’ll never be able to catch it. 

“Thanks for coming to this,” you return, facing Calum again. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course, you’re welcome.” His smile is soft and the two of you start back to your car. “Do you want to come back to my place or head home?”

“I’ve got to get some stuff sorted for Friday, so I’m going to head home. But I will be free until Monday.” You think there’s a dinner happening on Friday. Calum hadn’t given too many details about it, but it was something he needed to attend from what you were told. 

“Saturday then? I’m still ironing out details with some friends for drinks in the evening, and would love to have you along.”

“Friends or the boys?” you ask. It’s a small tease as you do know that there is a collection of three other guys Calum’s especially close too. You’d yet to meet them. Your schedule being the most unforgiving at the time. 

“Drinks with the boys, yes,” Calum laughs. “But I mean it. I’d love for you to join. IF you can of course after you see Teagan and Charlie.”

Calum offers it tenderly, like he might be scared that you won’t believe him. You do though. As much as you had on your plate, there’s always a sense of calm when Calum’s around. A little bit of separation--you know that life won’t stop spinning for you, but when you can steal moments away with Calum it feels like life is stopping. You feel like you can soak it all up. 

“It’s a date, then. With all of them, specifically.”

Calum’s kiss to the back of your hand is quick as you’re paused outside the driver side door. “Silly, silly goose. But I’m happy you can join. Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“Always.”

“I’ll let you know when I get home too,” Calum assures.  

“Promise?” you tease. 

“Always,” he grins. 

______________________________________

The curtains flutter as you pull to a complete stop outside the house. The engine is still knocking gently as the door flies open. Teagan’s figure stands in the now empty doorway. Behind her, you spot Melvin who’s pushing up from the stairs. “Teagan, sweetheart, please wait for a knock next time. We need to make sure you stay safe,” Melvin laughs. 

Charlie is slow around the bend, his smile bright as he looks at you. You smile over to him, but quickly turn back to Teagan. She looks normal--a bounce to her as she waits. Maybe it was all a fluke. Maybe it was just the nerves about going back to school after the summer. “Hi, Teag,” you greet once you’re up the short set of stairs.

She greets you with a hug, arms wrapping around your legs. “Missed you.”

“I’m here now, Teag. I’m here now. Ready to go to the toy store?”

“Born ready!”

There’s still a small battle with jackets, light for the evening, but still necessary as you hear Diana gather Teagan and Charlie to take a pick from the ones in the hall closet. But once they’re layered up, you take a hand of theirs each and start back down the steps. Teagan’s in first and slides all the way to the passenger side of the back seat. Charlie climbs in second. They make quick work of getting buckled in, but the entire time there’s a prickle--the eyes of Diana boring holes into you. 

“Have we thought about anything else needed for school?” you ask, reversing out of the driveway. 

“Just the socks,” Charlie answers. “You’ve got everything else. Or at least I do.”

“Fair enough. Anything for you Teag?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Just give a call if you need anything.” You hope Charlie still has the piece of paper you gave him with your number on it. 

“When do you start your new job?” Charlie asks. 

“Monday. I start it on Monday.”

“Scared?”

You hum at the question. Maybe to you starting something new isn’t all that new to you. You’ve started over and over before. This is just another one of those times. “Not scared. But I think I am nervous about not embarrassing myself on the first day,” you laugh. 

“You’ll do great,” he reassures. “You’re already pretty awesome.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

At a red light, you take a glance into the rearview mirror. Teagan’s staring out the window. Charlie’s staring back at you. It’d all look normal if not for the soft echo of Teagan’s plea in your mind. “School’s still going good?” you ask. 

It’s only been a couple days, but yet the fear keeps pressing the question. You want it so desperately to just be something with school. The question you keep trying to swallow back, yet keeps pushing to the forefront of your mind is what if your parents have slipped up? What if things are getting bad like they did for you? You’re in no position to take Charlie and Teagan in. You’d do it if necessary. You’d do whatever you needed for them. 

Charlie shrugs at the question. “I don’t think I’m going to like my science teacher.”

“Why not?”

“He’s mean. Spits a lot when he talks too.”

You grimace at the mental image; the fury of a red faced man shouting at a group of children, coupled with the globs of spit that fly around him. “I think I should get you a poncho, huh?” Charlie howls at the suggestion. Teagan’s laughter joins in too, much softer than Charlie’s. “What about you Teag?”

“School’s fine; I have friends in most of my classes,” she states.

The conversation falls after that into silence. You have to pay attention to the road. The radio’s playing softly. There’s a hum of the car passing you by and utter dread solidifying in your gut. It’s too big of a leap--one bad mood from Teagan is not enough for you to make this much of a conclusion, but your gut’s sinking and you cannot stop it. 

Charlie’s first into the store, tugging you by the arm. But Teagan stays close to you. Where you’re normally fighting to keep an eye on both of them, Charlie’s taking charge and leading the trio of you. Teagan’s hold on your hand is tight. The store itself isn’t too busy. There’s a few families from the looks of it. A father carrying the littlest of the family on his shoulders. A mother carrying her child on her hip. You suspect in the coming weeks though the place will become busier--the closer and closer it goes to Christmas. 

Charlie at the helm leads the trio into the section where the Lego sets are. You let go of his hand so that he can navigate a bit more freely. He pauses and picks up various sets, turning to look at the back of the boxes. Teagan shows only vague interest in the few immediately near her. “Don’t you think we should beg Santa for a sister to your unicorn?” you ask Teagan. 

She laughs, head shaking as she looks up. “Rosie already takes up my entire bed. No sisters for her.”

You shrug. “Looks like you might just need a bigger bed then. It’s the only real solution here.”

“Look! They have Star Wars!” Charlie shouts. He’s only at the end of the aisle, and you look up to see the set in his hands. You think you make out one of the ships from the series, but you wouldn’t be able to place it exactly. “It’s a republic ship, but it’s still cool!”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re going to the dark side, Charlie. I’d hate to fight my own brother, but will if I must,” you return. 

“No, no dark side. Not yet anyways,” Charlie tacks on with a dark cackle. He places the box back and turns to look at the items behind him. 

With only a soft tuft of laughter, you look back to Teagan. She’s wrapped herself around your forearm now, clinging to you but uninterested in the items around her. 

“What was it like with Mom and Dad before?” Teagan asks as the two of you follow behind Charlie to the train sets. 

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“You said that they didn’t tuck you in and that you didn’t get bedtime stories. But we do get that. So what was it like before?”

It’s not fair. You know that. Teagan’s asking you a genuine question but you don’t want to taint the view they have of Diana and Melvin. They’re much too young; they’ve had a good childhood. But that lead in your stomach grows heavier. The very suspicion you’d prayed was wrong creeps back up. It burns your throat like bile as your body grows hot. Please let me be wrong. 

“Has something changed?” you ask in return. 

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“And you’re avoiding mine. So I guess we know where the other got it from. Teag, has something changed?”

“I wasn’t supposed to be up.” The start of her sentence comes out soft, reminiscent of the first snowflake that falls. You hope it’s not the calm before the blizzard. You still hope that maybe Teagan overhead something and is misconstruing it. She is only a child. There’s so much she doesn’t understand; there’s still so much the world hasn’t done to her yet. You want her to stay that way. It won’t be forever. No one gets through the world with their share of scars. But you don’t want Teagan’s world to be shattered like yours was. 

“I won’t tell on you.” But you will set fire to that house if need be. You will tear your parents limb from limb if they don't keep it together for Charlie and Teagan’s sake. You will be more than their worst regret. You know that in the marrow of your bones. 

“Dad was talking to Mom; it sounded bad. Mom hadn’t been reading or tucking me in. Dad does it. And that’s fine. Dad does great with it. I just--I missed Mom doing it. She did read and tuck me in last night. But we only got through one story. I talked to Dad about it. I just wanted ot make sure everything was okay.”

“Did you or Mom get sleepy first?” You can’t ask her if Diana’s words were slurred. You don’t dare try to ask if something smelled different. Teagan wouldn’t have a concept of what would even smell different, how to place the sterile stench of alcohol on someone’s breath. 

“Mom did. Which is okay. She’s been up late, she says. Working or something. I didn’t mean to cause more trouble.”

Your palms are wet, you know they are. You can feel the sweat prickling at your skin. You can be wrong. All you had was Teagan’s recount--noticing that she wasn’t getting tucked in or being read bedtime stories by Diana like normal. It could be nothing. Maybe Diana was taking on more hours at work. Perhaps there was some sort of logical explanation for all of these behaviors. But it could be sinister. It could be that Diana’s relapsed, returning to drinking. 

“Did you hear anything else? Anything specific?” You’ll need something solid. Though your gut lurches at the idea that you’ll be dropping them back off to that house, you don’t think taking them would help at all. You couldn’t hold them hostage for the weekend or for the week. You don’t have the grounds. Nothing that would hold up in court at all at the very least. But you know. You know in your bones that something bad is happening. 

You won’t be going anywhere though. Even if the storm gets tough, you will fight it out for Teagan and Charlie. You’ll do whatever you can for them. They have the shot you didn’t. They have something that you could’ve only dreamed of. You’ll be damned if it’s taken from them. 

“Dad was going through the cabinets or something. There were things opening and closing. So I couldn’t really hear what was being said. That was Tuesday. It’s sort of gotten better though. I swear it has.” 

Is Teagan trying to convince herself or you? The fear quakes her throat and you realize that behind your own fear is a child. Teagan’s just a fucking child. “Hey, hey, no,” you start, squatting down to her level. “No, you’re not in trouble. It’s okay. It’s okay,” you reassure, cradling her face. 

“I really didn’t mean it.”

“Thank you,” you return. “For telling me. You’re not in trouble, okay? You’re not.”

“What if she never reads to me again?”

“She’ll read to you. I’ll read to you if I have too. Okay? I’ll do whatever I need to. You just call me. If it gets bad again, call me, okay? I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night. You call me.” 

She needs to believe you. You need her to believe you through and through that you’ll come and get them. Even if you all have always had a bit of a wedge, their own natural curiosity as to why you weren’t around before and your own stubbornness not to ruin something good for them, the obvious tension between you and your parents, even with all that, they’re still your siblings. They are still young. They still deserve everything you didn’t get. 

Teagan nods. “I will. Thanks.”

“Of course. What else are big siblings for?”

“Lace socks and looking at the doctor’s kit.”

You snort at Teagan’s clear directive to go take a look at the other toys now. “Sure thing. Just, you know I love you right?” You offer wiping at her cheeks with your thumbs. Only a few tears fell, but you just need her to know that you’ll be there. Come hell, high water, fires, you will always be there now. 

She nods. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.”

“Good, good,” you whisper. Teagan steps in for a hug, her arms winding around your neck. It’s a tight hug, even you know it, but you hold Teagan close, hoisting her up onto your hip you stand. 

She laughs, still clinging to your neck. “Charlie, c’mon. We’re leaving you,” she calls out to her brother. It’s the sign that she’s ready to go. Maybe she’s ready to drop what had been plaguing her. You hope that she can leave it here in the toy aisles, that she can drop it onto your shoulders for you to worry about, for you to fret over. 

Charlie huffs, putting the train down but takes your hand. You take the lead, carrying Teagan on one side, keeping Charlie close to the other and start off to the other end of the store. There’s a collection of other toy kits for different professions--astronauts, hair stylists, construction workers. You hadn’t known about Teagan’s sudden interest in medicine. She’s generally a healthy kid, so is Charlie. The most you’ve heard of them talking about doctors is at their yearly appointments and when either one of them caught a cold. It might’ve been something at school that came up, though you think anything surrounding careers is much too young for Charlie or Teagan to worry about seriously. 

“What kind of doctor do you want to be?” you ask as you set her down. 

“There’s different kinds?” Teagan returns staring up at the kit with the white coat and stethoscope. 

“Yeah. There’s like the doctor you see when you go to get shots and stuff, who practices general medicine. Then there’s doctors that work with specific kinds of sickness and specific body parts and organ systems. You could be an eye doctor. You could be a nurse. Or be a pharmacist. There’s a lot of different things inside of medicine.”

“Like the dentists?” Charlie questions. 

“Yeah. There’s oral surgeons too.”

“Are their doctors for your brain?” Teagan poses. 

You nod. “Yeah, like doctors who study the physical brain and study how to operate on them--brain surgeons. Then there’s people who study how the brain works and how it changes over time and stuff in your environment--like a psychologist or psychiatrist.” 

“I don’t know what I want to do. Just want to help people, I think,” Teagan answers. 

“Well, the good thing is that you’ve got time to figure it all out.”

“Maybe at the library I can check out a book about all the kinds of doctors.” It’s a gentle suggestion and you nod in agreement. Charlie wonders a few steps over. You spy an excavation kit that seemingly has caught his eye. 

How much has Charlie noticed any changes? How much of Teagan’s story could be reaffirmed by Charlie? But if Charlie’s not bringing it up, you worry you could plant the wrong seed. There’s already enough concern and fear. You don’t want to keep making a pit that didn’t need to be deeper, deeper. It would only serve worse for wear in the long run. The only thing you can think of as you watch them is that you’re praying you’re wrong. You hope you’re so fucking wrong.