#closer and closer to it to find something even newer yeah so

[salmoncakepls]

...🦌?

[autumnrory]

woooo my niece took 5 of my 13 lego sets, one of which was one of the three larger ones, so that's one huge box out of the way and i'm just glad she wanted them because like they ARE twenty years old and they look fine ofc but sometimes kids aren't gonna want stuff that isn't new and shiny ya know, but she did seem to want everything which would've been fine with me but i knew there was no way they would take all that with them, and at least i still have stuff of my own to sell, plus should get at least a cut of my brother's stuff for doing the inventory and putting together that stuff that wasn't already done

[wendichester]

I'm baaaacckkkk =D If there is a cap on request please let me know I just love your writing style and how you work them.

Ok so here's what I'm thinking. Reader and Dean are newer in their relationship, but when they're on hunts she always insists on getting her own room. Dean is confused and asks her and she admits that she has been told that she talks in her sleep/moves too much/is awful to sleep with and she doesn't want to put Dean through that. Maybe a little trial run too if you're up to it.

Thank you I always look forward to your fics!!

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡ sleeping beauty,

summary. you're hard to sleep with, but dean doesn't really care. as long as you're tucked right by his side, he'll sleep soundly.

pairing. dean winchester x reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 697

notes. thank you so much for requesting and for supporting me ehe. the cap is 1000 requests 🤭🩷

Dean’s been noticing it for a while now.

Every time you two land at a motel after a hunt, you insist on getting your own room. You always say it's for the best, especially after a long day, and that you’re “fine on your own.” But he’s no fool. Something’s off about it, and the fact that you always look at him with that little worried frown when he brings it up… well, it’s starting to bug him.

So tonight, after an especially grueling hunt, he’s decided he’s finally going to get to the bottom of it.

He’s not really sure why it’s been bothering him so much, but when you say you’ll “take the bed in the next room” again, he can’t hold back any longer.

“Why do you always do that?” Dean’s voice is quieter than he intends, leaning against the motel room door as you fumble with your bag.

You freeze for a second, before turning around with a smile that’s a little too forced. “Do what?”

Dean cocks his head, crossing his arms. “Get your own room. You know you don’t have to do that, right?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I just… I’m not good to sleep with, okay?”

His brow furrows in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

You shift on your feet, biting your lip. “I—uh, I talk in my sleep. Move around a lot. I mean, it’s kind of awful.”

Dean blinks, taking in your words, but doesn’t move. “You’re kidding, right? You’re fine. We’ve slept together on the road before…”

You cut him off, voice soft. “No, no. Not like that.”

Dean feels a pang of guilt twist in his gut. He hadn’t realized it was bothering you that much. He takes a slow step toward you, his voice quieter, more gentle. “Is that what you think? That it’s annoying to be around you?”

You look away, unable to meet his eyes. “Yeah. People’ve told me I’m terrible to sleep next to. I don’t want to put you through that.”

Dean’s heart tugs at the vulnerability in your voice. He steps even closer, closing the distance between you. “I don’t care if you talk in your sleep, sweetheart. I don’t care if you move all night. I want to be with you.”

You blink up at him, surprise and disbelief flickering across your face. “Really?”

Dean smiles, soft but certain, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course. You think that’s gonna stop me from being near you?” He takes your hands in his, squeezing them gently. “I just want you with me, [Y/N].”

There’s a quiet beat between you, then you look at him, nervous but hopeful. “So, uh, maybe we could... do a trial run?”

Dean’s eyes sparkle with amusement, his lips curling up into a slow grin. “You wanna test it out?”

You nod, cheeks pink as you shift from foot to foot. “Yeah. You know… see how bad it really is. If it’s that awful, I’ll go to the next room.”

Dean chuckles, that warm, familiar chuckle that always makes you feel at ease. “Alright, alright. We’ll see how it goes.”

Later that night, you find yourself curled up in Dean’s bed, wrapped in his arms, your head resting on his chest.

He’s quiet for a moment, just breathing, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back. You start to drift off, the exhaustion of the hunt finally catching up with you.

But then you feel it.

Your legs shift under the covers, a little too restless. You mumble something under your breath, the sleepiness creeping in.

Dean chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “See? Told you I didn’t care.”

You shift again, murmuring a few more unintelligible words, your hand brushing across his stomach.

Dean tightens his hold on you, a protective warmth flooding through him. You’re safe here. And so is he.

“Don’t worry about a thing, [Y/N],” he whispers, voice soft and steady. “I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You sigh, finally settling, your body relaxing into him.

And Dean smiles in the dark, knowing he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[lumiambrose]

✰ chilling stakes

kinktober 24 - day ten

featuring: reno ichikawa x f!reader

summary: bearing a number's suit comes with plenty of health risks for its user, so it's routine for newer officers to receive checkups post-mission. during your shift with reno, you seem to get distracted as he shows you his suit's full capabilities.

tags: smut, p in v, temperature play, fingering, praise, petnames (sweetheart, baby)

wc: 2.2k

bearing weapons suit 6 is no easy task. it shreds years off your lifespan and puts your body in excruciating pain. which is why reno always finds himself in the operations room after every mission for a screening. it’s nothing over the top, just a routine checkup done by an operations team member to make sure all his vitals are in check.

according to schedule, it’s your turn to run officer ichikawa’s checkup. he’s lazing on one of the patient beds in the laboratory as you’re typing away on the console in front of you.

in all honesty, you’re a little nervous. it’s not your first time running ichikawa's checkup, but you always get so nervous around him. you’ve looked up to him since he joined the defence force, growing at an inhumane speed and even obtaining the sixth number’s suit. you can’t help but feel your heart rate speed up whenever you're in his vicinity.

you steal a glance at him, trying not to be too obvious, but it’s hard to focus on your job when he’s right there. one arm is draped over his forehead while the other rests on his chest as he relaxes on the patient bed.

“you alright?” his voice breaks the silence. his eyes flicker open, catching yours, making you quickly look away as your cheeks heat up.

“of course! just… setting things up,” you mumble away, clearing your throat as you approach him with a small device in hand. “you know the drill, right?”

“mhm,” he slowly sits up before turning to face you. it takes every ounce of self-restraint in your body to not stare at his body. you try to ignore his lean frame and the way his muscles are perfectly framed in the combat suit as you carry out his check.

desperate for a change of thoughts, you let your curiosity get the better of you. “does it hurt?” you ask him quietly, unable to stop yourself.

“wearing six?” he quirks a brow, watching you with a lazy grin. “yeah, you could say that. it takes a lot out of me, but... ultimately, it’s worth it.” his eyes flicker to yours with a hint of mischief. “i can show you if you’d like.”

you hesitate at first, but your heart skips a beat at his offer. you’ve always wanted to see the powers of a numbers suit up close. “i… i don’t think we’re allowed–”

“relax,” he quickly interrupts your thought process, leaning forward to catch your full attention. “i won’t tell if you don’t.”

after pondering the consequences quickly in your head, you decide you’ll probably never get to experience something like this up close again. reluctantly agreeing, you give him a curt nod. he pats on the free space next to the patient bed for you to sit down on.

once seated next to him, he stretches his arm forward, and with a quick flick of his wrist, you feel the air around you change. the area is getting colder as you notice the tips of his fingers freezing up. 

“see? it’s not that scary,” he remarks in a slightly teasing tone, gently pulling you closer to feel the energy radiating from him. “do you trust me?” he asks you, completely serious as his eyes lock with yours.

“reno…” you whisper, “i do, why?” instead of receiving an answer, he stands up and circles his way to the other side of the patient bed, now behind you.

“close your eyes,” he murmurs, inches away from your ear. “just relax and trust me, ok?”

you feel reno’s presence behind you, his breath just about grazing the back of your neck as you do your best to relax on the bed. the environment is getting colder, leaving your skin tingling in anticipation. with the lack of sight, the cold feels sharper, more intense, as your every sensation heightens.

you breathe in, waiting for his next move until you feel the lightest touch on your shoulder. it’s icy and soft, like a snowflake melting on your skin. you react instantly, a gasp escaping from your lips as reno’s finger traces a line from your shoulder down your arm.

“too cold?” he asks, his tone soft yet slightly teasing, clear amusement in his voice. you shake your head as you manage to stammer out a reply, “no… it’s fine,” though your body thinks otherwise, as goosebumps rise along your skin. 

the next touch you feel is his fingers on your neck. reno’s cold fingers trace along the back of it. the chill of his touch is making your body feel hotter everywhere else.

“you’re tense,” he murmurs, inches away from your ear. his fingers now dance their way down your spine, leaving a trail of frost-kissed skin in their wake. “let me help with that.”

a soft gasp escapes your lips as the cold works its way lower, sending many little jolts of electricity through your body. his every touch feels meaningful, as though he’s testing your reactions. his fingers eventually end their trail over to your hips, grasping them with his firm hands and letting an even stronger sensation course through you.

you bite your lip, trying to hold back the sounds threatening to escape. it’s almost impossible, but the last thing you want to do is embarrass yourself in front of your favourite officer. especially in such an intimate moment like this.

“see? not so bad,” he says softly. his voice is now on the back of your neck, just below your ears. you can feel his breath, fiery against the cold coursing through your body. he plays with the skin on your hips, kneading it with his hands, and this time, you can’t hold back the soft moan that escapes you.

he chuckles in response, clearly pleased with himself. “i knew you’d like it.” his hand moves again, this time slightly higher, shortly landing on your waist before stopping just below your chest.

“tell me to stop, and i will.” is the only warning he gives you before his hands venture upwards even further to cup your breasts. not expecting reno’s movements, you let out a loud gasp, but you don’t stop him. in return, his gloved hands play with the flesh covered by your blouse.

it doesn’t take him long to realise you’re not wearing a bra underneath, as he feels your hardened peaks through the thin fabric. “no bra? how bold. i guess you won't mind me paying extra attention here then.” he remarks before his index fingers slide over your nipples, freezing them at his touch, eliciting a loud moan from you.

“reno- wait! i-” you open your eyes and turn around to face him. the face staring back at you is surprisingly soft, almost worried, as though he’ll scare you away.

“we can stop if you want,” he responded calmly, almost anticipating you to back out.

for a moment, you did almost consider stopping, but it’s been so long since a man has made you feel this good, and he’s barely even touched you. “no… please, don’t stop,” your voice barely above a whisper as you look into reno’s eyes, his violet orbs meeting yours as you plead with him to continue.

his lips curl into a grin as his eyes now gleam with mischief. “good,” he says, letting his hands go back to assaulting your breasts. his fingers tracing circles around your nipples, making you let out breathy moans.

“i want you to undress for me slowly.” his order makes your cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, but you comply. starting with unbuttoning your blouse, you make your way down, exposing your body bit by bit until you’re left in your lacy underwear. body exposed for reno’s eyes to roam over.

reluctantly, you lay down on the patient bed, as reno watches your every move. from the way your body stretches out on the bed to the way your eyelashes flutter ever so slightly when you lock eyes.

reno begins at your feet, running his gloved hand up your calf towards your thigh, leaving a trail of frost behind. the cold slowly spreading up your leg makes you shiver involuntarily, but reno continues his ascent nonetheless. his hand slides over your inner thigh, causing your breath to hitch.

his hand grazes your lace panties ever so lightly, making you bite your lip in anticipation of his next move. “may i?” you nod in response, giving him full control of your body. his gloved fingers then slip inside the fabric, freezing your folds as he caresses the skin.

his fingers draw patterns around your folds, gathering your slick as you squirm underneath his touch. you let out a quiet moan as you feel the cold course through your insides, a stark contrast to the heat pooling between your legs. although before you can let out another noise, reno’s lips find yours in a rough kiss.

his tongue desperately invades your mouth, claiming you in a way that makes you forget about your current predicament. he moves closer, pressing up on you as his finger, which was once teasing your folds, plunges inside you.

you let out a muffled shriek at the sudden intrusion mixed with the freezing temperatures. “keep quiet for me, sweetheart,” he coos against your lips. although the only response you're able to give him is a muffled moan as his finger works itself inside you.

you gasp for air as you feel him insert a second finger, pumping them in and out of your seeping cunt. “you’re so tight,” he whispers with a grin, his eyes fuelled with lust. “such a pretty little toy for me.” he leans in, nibbling on your earlobe before placing gentle kisses down your neck. you’re beginning to tense up, actions getting more and more desperate as you get closer to your impending orgasm.

reno bites down hard on your neck, sucking the delicate skin, leaving a hickey. the mix of pain and pleasure finally enough to send you over the edge as your orgasm hits. reno’s spare hand moves up to cover your mouth as you moan in ecstasy, in utter awe of the pleasure he's giving you. once satisfied, he pulls his fingers out before licking them clean, savouring the taste while you’re still riding your high.

“you taste so sweet, baby,” he praises in a sultry voice, “time for the main course.” with that, he frees his cock and thrusts inside of you, filling you up completely. you cry out, overwhelmed by the sensation.

he doesn’t move yet. “ready, sweetheart?” he asks in such a gentle tone, almost as if he hasn’t already stretched you out on his cock.

“yes, please,” you beg, your entire body aching for him.

he starts moving slowly, giving you time to adjust to the size. but it doesn't take long till he's up, moving in a faster and more desperate rhythm.

his hands find their way to your breasts once again, freezing and playing with the soft flesh as he fucks you. “look at you, taking me so well. such a good girl,” he praises in between low groans. “you feel so good around me, baby.”

reno invades the free space between you two, leaning down to take you in another kiss, letting his tongue explore your mouth once again. you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, the cold of his suit overridden by the heat in your body.

“reno! oh god– i’m so close!” you moan into his mouth.

he pulls back from the kiss, his eyes locked with yours, a smirk playing on his lips. “cum for me, sweetheart,” he commands, his voice low and husky. “let me feel you around my cock.”

he desperately chases your orgasm, his thrusts become more aggressive, more demanding, while his fingers continue playing with your perked nipples, eliciting sweet sounds from you as jolts of pleasure spread through your body.

“just like that, baby,” he encourages, his breath hot against your neck. “give it to me. wanna feel you come all over my cock.”

that was all it took. his words being being the last push to send you over the edge.

“reno!” you cry out, your body convulsing as your second orgasm hits. you clamp down on his cock, milking him dry as though nobody was around to hear you. reno groans loudly, your orgasm being his final trigger as he finds his release, filling you with his hot, sticky cum.

coming down from your highs, reno leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours as you catch your breaths. “you did so well, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pulling you into his arms. “you’re made for me.”

“you’re not that bad yourself. i’d say your vitals are fine,” you chuckle, resting yourself in his arms. “you’re free to go whenever.” although, despite your words, you inch your body closer to him.

your actions gain a small laugh out of reno as he strokes your back with your thumb, resting in your embrace for a while before drawing back and tidying himself up. “you’ll do my screening next time, right?” he jokes as he walks towards the door, throwing you a sly wink before leaving the laboratory, leaving you with something new to look forward to after missions.

taglist: @ryescapades @iamjellyfish @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[esote-rika]

Once Upon a Dream | Spencer Reid

v. you who put roots in my dreamland | prev chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

The cafe was closed. Weighed down by her suitcase and the single minded desire to find her sister, Jet felt frustration settling deep in her chest. She tried not to panic, she really did, but when no one was answering her calls, and the unmistakable Sorry, we’re closed sign was the only thing to greet her arrival back home, it was difficult to maintain her wits.

Where are you? I just got back. She sent two texts to Leni and Melissa for the fourth time, trying to keep her fingers from shaking. There’s no scent of honey now, but she wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Did this mean Leni was safe? 

Jet hoped, with all the magic she could muster, that this was the case. She didn’t care about anything else, just that Leni was safe and healthy. Once that was confirmed, then she would worry about how to help them fix this mess.

“Bridget?” 

Jet whipped her head to the source of the sound so fast she heard her neck crack. She winced, and she’s unsure if it’s because of the crack, or because Ashley Rockwell’s face came into view, smiling in such a condescending way that Jet could feel hives go up and down her arms.

“Ashley,” Jet forced a smile, “Hi.”

“Oh, wow, it really is you! Long time no see,” the brunette stepped closer, an arm raising as if to reach for Jet, before the weight of their past seemed to drag it back down, reminding her she’s not allowed to do that anymore. It dropped back to her side awkwardly. 

The silence stretched on. 

Jet let it.

“You look good,” Ashley tried again.

Unshowered and disheveled from almost seven hours of traveling without her own car, Jet knew she was far from looking good. She snorted, “You’re still a bad liar, Ash.” It seemed like some things never changed, not in this town.

“Yes, well…” Ashley trailed off, glancing at the cafe. She perked up, finding another thing to latch onto, “You’ve heard the news, huh? Is that why you’re here?”

Jet wasn’t in the mood to discuss the news with people, especially not with Ashley Rockwell who looked a little too pleased about Blue Moon Cafe being closed. She didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Still, this might be her one chance to actually learn something, and maybe find out where Leni and Melissa went. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re thriving because of all this scandal.” Jet replied, turning pointedly at the newer building right across the street, where Ashley’s own cafe stood, proud and shiny. “People dying from your business rival’s coffee.”

Jet knew that was morbid and, judging by the disturbed expression that settled upon Ashley’s face, perhaps even below the belt. 

“That’s inappropriate,” Ashley said, crossing her arms, “You shouldn’t speak that way when people— well, you know.” 

Defensive, Jet thought, but warranted. Her statement was quite aggressive, Jet can admit to that.

“I’m sorry,” Jet backtracked, “I’m just frustrated; I haven’t really slept, and neither Leni nor Melissa are replying to my messages, and then I find their cafe closed for the day.” 

There’s also the fact that I’ve been dreaming of this man, who may or may not be my hallucination, but that’s beside the point. Jet knew she already had a reputation for being abrasive and solitary in her hometown, she didn’t need weird to be added to that unflattering list.

Ashley frowned, and Jet could feel the appraising look burning against her skin. Finally, Ashley sighed.

“Last I heard, they were asked to come into the police station.”

Jet almost wished the woman hadn’t spoken. Almost.

“The police station?” Jet repeated, her mind whirring with possibilities. It should be all right, this is just part of the procedure. Both Mel and Leni were persons of interest, after all. She went through everything she knew about the murders, enumerating the facts in her head in an attempt to calm herself. 

There had been three deaths, from what Jet had read from the news articles she had found. All of them with a different cause—one had been strangled, two with their throats slit. The bodies had been found in their houses, and Jet had recognized one of them. A man, a couple of years older than her—they had gone to the same high school, and he had been on the football team.

There had been a couple of weeks in between each death, which, paired with the different causes of death, made the police conclude that they needed outside help. There was no discernable pattern to the deaths, but the one thing that the victims had in common was the fact that they were all regulars to Blue Moon Cafe.

The cafe Leni worked at, the cafe she wanted to co-own.

The cafe which was currently closed, because, apparently, both Leni and Melissa were at the station, being questioned.

It’s just part of the procedure, she repeated over and over. They’re persons of interest, of course they’re being questioned. Still, she couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease that kept squeezing at her chest, cutting off her airflow. 

“Yeah, a bunch of guys flew in this morning. Apparently, the FBI’s getting involved.” Ashley replied.

She wasn’t sure if she heard that right. The FBI?

Jet closed her eyes, trying to take deeper breaths. She bit her lip as the scent of honey invaded her nose again, saccharine and unpleasant. Why on earth was the FBI involved? What was happening? And why did the cafe have to be in the middle of it?

She must have turned pale, because she could feel Ashley’s hand closing around her arm.

“Hey, Bridget, easy.” 

“I’m fine,” Jet stepped away, gently shrugging off the other woman’s hand, “I’m fine, I just—I need to get to the station.” 

“You should probably sit—”

“I’m fine,” Jet cut off, holding up her hand, “I promise. Thank you for letting me know where they are.”

And then she’s speed walking to the police station, hauling her heavy suitcase with her. She’s grateful for all of her time in New York, walking through the streets and weaving in and out of crowds, because it allowed her to retreat into her body and refocus her energy. Jet just had to get to the station, and find Leni. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

Spencer Reid rubbed at his eyes until black spots danced across his vision. This new case was difficult—not particularly gruesome, but it was one of those cases that seemed so random. He blinked until the spots cleared up, and stared at the board before him, trying to decipher the geographic profile.

Victimology had been all over the place. Two men in their 30s, and one woman in her late 20s, all of varying ethnicities and backgrounds. He hoped that the map, something visual and solid, could help reveal something about this unsub. He looked at the victims’ houses, all spread out across the small town, measuring and calculating distances between each house and the Blue Moon Cafe, which was located right in the heart of downtown. 

He came up empty. He sighed as his hand came up to his eyes again, rubbing them in an attempt to ground himself. 

It didn’t help that his mind was preoccupied. 

With memories of her. Sharp and vivid, she had appeared in his dreams when he had fallen asleep on the jet ride here. It had been so surprising that he’d woken with a start, earning surprised looks from Luke and JJ, to which he had responded with a sheepish smile.

She was beautiful, he knew that. Not that he was vain. Not that he privileged appearances over values and personality, but oh she was so beautiful. He woke up, and wondered why she suddenly became so clear.

He wanted to know her name, wanted to find her. It was like an itch that refused to leave, until he scratched his skin raw. 

He needed to find her.

But no, he had a job to do and he had to focus. 

“Tara and Rossi are coming back from the coroner’s office,” Emily’s voice drifted through the space, cutting through his thoughts, “The lacerations were uneven and jagged. The unsub is inexperienced, as we initially suggested.”

Spencer inclined his head to show he was listening.

“JJ and Luke are just about done with the cafe owners’ interviews.” Emily continued, “They both seem to be planning to go on a vacation to Paris because they actually did kill their customers and this is all one elaborate ruse.”

At that, Spencer looked up. He was met with Emily’s sharp gaze, eyebrows raised in concern.

“Ah, good, so you are listening.” she deadpanned.

“Of course I was.”

“Reid.”

“The geographic profile is done, but it’s not really telling us anything helpful at the moment.”

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Emily’s voice had taken that softer, almost pleading tone that immediately made him pause.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Even he was unconvinced by his own words.

Emily pressed her lips in a tight line, and Spencer fought the urge to wince. He knew she could see right through him.

“You know you can take a break, right?” Emily started, her voice gentle and barely audible, “That injury was no joke.”

He almost sighed with relief. She didn’t suspect anything, although her line of thought was alarmingly close. The dreams did seem to be an effect of that bomb going off, the sustained trauma manifesting into something quite surreal and unexplainable. 

But he also wasn’t sure if he wanted to take a break; a break meant more time to think about her. More time to try and find the mysterious woman from his dreams, the woman he thought existed in real life based on what—a feeling?

No, he didn’t want the break. 

Emily must have taken his silence as confirmation, because she walked closer to him. “Spencer,”

Oh no, not that.

“I’m all right, Em. Really. You don’t—”

The words died on his lips as Luke stepped into the conference room, running his hands through his hair.

“Melissa Santos has a solid alibis,” he said, nodding at both Emily and Spencer, “She even closed the coffee shop today out of respect for the victims.”

Spencer nodded in return, grateful for the distraction. He ignored the suspicious look that Emily gave him, before she turned to Luke.

“And Lenore Clarke?” Emily prompted.

“JJ’s still working on her,” Luke said, walking to the glass windows. He hooks two fingers through the blinds that keep them secluded from the rest of the police station and tugs them down, “Apparently, her sister just came in.”

Emily followed him, looking through the window, “Her sister? The one Garcia said was in New York?”

“Yeah. Came all the way from the city just now, according to some of the officers.”

Spencer wandered over to them, hands fiddling with a pen, “How’s any of that relevant?”

Luke paused, stepping away from the window. “Not necessarily relevant, but apparently, they have some sort of reputation around here. The older one, more than Lenore.” 

“Well, it’s a pretty small town. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.” Emily shrugged, still peeking through the window, “Is that the sister?”

At that, Spencer’s curiosity became too much to ignore. He leaned down, peering over Emily’s shoulder. From here, he could see Lenore Clarke following JJ and one of the officers across the station. He followed the way Emily was angled, turning his head to the left to catch a glimpse of the sister in question, just as Luke spoke the confirmation.

“Yeah, the blonde one. Her name’s Bridget.”

Bridget. 

Spencer swore his heart stopped beating.

Everything felt cold. The world was a hazy blur, as his vision zeroed in on the woman decked in a pastel pink sweater. Just like she said in his dreams. Luke and Emily’s conversation became a muffled sort of noise in the background as memories of her voice took over his brain. 

Her.

Right there, with her honey colored hair held back by a dainty pink bow at the nape of her neck, running to meet Lenore Clarke halfway. He knew it. He knew she was real. Even though every ounce of logic in his body told him he was being delusional, some deep, primal, inexplicable part of him just knew. 

The woman from his dreams. She was right there.

And now he had a name to put to her face. Bridget. 

Bridget Clarke.

Double update for u @prettylittlewrites muah. One more chapter and then Act One is complete!!! comment if you'd like to be part of the taglist for this fic, and I hope u enjoyed!!!

[sexymilfwitch]

Haven’t Seen You Here

Parings: Ashe x Fem Reader

summary: Ashe sees someone new at her favorite bar.

words: 689

author note: i was yearning for a ashe fic and couldn’t find any so i decided to write my own. if this does well maybe i could make it a series. im open to it. lmk if yall like it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ashe walks into the bar she visits after every job or mission, ready to drink a little and possibly chat up a pretty girl to take home. She’s here often enough to take notice of the usual customers— and the customers that are… newer.

She sets herself up at the bar, tapping her fingers rhythmically against the wooden surface while ordering her drink, catching a glimpse of your figure striding in through the front door of the bar. You’re… different from the other customers, Ashe thinks.

You look over at her as you’re walking in and look away when u realize shes looking right back at you. Nervous, you sit at the bar to order

Ashe’s gaze lingers on you as you sit down at the bar, studying your figure for a moment. She smirks, noticing the way you quickly looked away from her.

She finishes her own drink, setting the glass down before waving over the bartender and signaling for another. She waits until you’re served your own drink before speaking.

“You’re new here, aren’t ya?”

You take a sip of your drink and look over

“i am, how’d ya know?” you ask back in a curious way

Ashe smiles as you confirm her suspicion, resting her chin on her hand and looking you up and down again. She notices your outfit, how you’re dressed more for a party or club rather than a bar.

“You don’t look like you belong here.” She states bluntly, still smirking as she looks you over, clearly finding something attractive about you.

You blush and look over your outfit then back up at Ashe.

“Oh my outfit…yeah i was supposed to go out with my friends but they all ditched me. I still wanted a drink, so here i am” you mutter as you motion around the room with your hand

She chuckles catching your blush, leaning a bit closer and resting her arm on the countertop, her gaze lingering on your pink face.

“Ahh, I see. Guess you’re all alone tonight, huh darling?” She says with a slight teasing tone, taking a sip of her drink while continuing to look you up and down. You can see the amused look in her eyes as she sizes you up.

You look her up and down and smirk finally feeling confident after having a few sips of your drink “yeah i might be alone, who’s asking?” you smile as you question.

Ashe’s smirk only widens as you look her up and down, noticing the way your eyes roam over her body. She leans a bit closer, her knee brushing against yours as she does so.

“Oh, ya’know… just some lady trying to chat up a pretty girl.” She responds with a flirtatious tone, her eyes flicking up and down your body as well. She’s definitely checking you out.

You smile at her and lean close to her ear as you whisper “Oh you’re gonna be trouble aren’t ya?”

Ashe’s breath hitches in her throat slightly as you lean in close to whisper in her ear, your proximity sending a shiver down her spine. She tries to keep her composure, a small smirk still on her face as she whispers back to you, her voice low and sultry.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m *definitely* gonna be trouble. But you’re not runnin away yet, are ya?”

You back away and smirk deviously “Not running from you hot stuff, but i have to go if i see you here again in one week ill give you my name and number” you quickly kiss her on the cheek and get up to leave

Ashe is surprised by your boldness, her smirk faltering for a moment as you call her “hot stuff” and kiss her cheek. She can feel her face heating up as you get up to leave, watching as you head towards the door.

She doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re gone, and she’s left at the bar with a lingering touch on her cheek and a pounding heart. She knows damn well she’ll be back in one week to see you again. Whoever you are.

[blackmoonowl]

OWL, GIVE US AN ANYTHING RELATED TO HARUTO YAMAMOKO, AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭

ꨄ Pairing: Haruto Yamamoto (Vampire oc) x reader

ꨄ Summary: Your boyfriend turned into a vampire shortly before you met. Not you have an introverted undead creature on your hands.

ꨄ Word Count: 614

Having a recently turned vampire for a boyfriend had its challenges.

Haruto was already a homebody to begin with, but in a digital age with all his family still alive he never truly felt safe. Days were spent sleeping, nights were spent cleaning up around the home.

"You're home late." Those were the first words you heard when you stepped through the door. The young man laid on the couch, his pastel yellow zip up hoodie draped over him. A game was paused on the TV screen.

"Got us some take out," you explained, putting a plastic bag on the table. Haruto visibly lightened up before sighing.

"Can I even still eat that? You know, with the whole blood sucking thing." Haruto got up, grabbing his zip up hoodie and putting it on properly so he could come over to you. the young vampire put his head on your shoulder, stood halfway behind you.

"I mean.. your digestive system should still work, right?" You questioned, peering down at the bag, slightly zoned out. "I've seen those empty cups of ramen in the trash."

Haruto ran a hand through his white dyed hair, pursing his lips slightly at that. He brushed past you to dig into the bag, pulling out some items.

"Yeah, that's fair. Though it doesn't really satisfy me that much anymore." The young man frowned, small fangs peeking through his lips. "Been waiting all day for you."

"Shouldn't you have been asleep?" You questioned as Haruto grumbled, attaching his lips to your neck.

"I don't sleep anyway, as long as I stay out of the sunlight I'm fine." You felt his fangs poke at your neck, trying to find the right vein. He wasn't sure how other vampires pulled this off so easily. You gently pulled his head closer.

"C'mon just do it, bloods gonna come out anyway." Your encouragement caused him to swallow before pulling away. No matter how strong his hunger was, his mind still had to get used to the idea of drinking blood for the rest of his undead life.

"Give me a sec, maybe the takeout will full me up..." he muttered, grabbing a tray of sushi and digging into it. Roll after roll entered his mouth. A look of desperation began to wash over his face. His fangs ached, wanting something completely different than the rice and fish.

"Dammit," he whined, putting the tray back down. Rubbing his face, he tried to calm his nerves. "It's not happening, I need blood."

"Go ahead, I trust you." Those words didn't make it easier for him. Taking a deep breath, he approached you again. His hands placed upon your hips, he nuzzled his face back into your neck. His teeth were planted upon your neck. He could hear your blood oozing, and his teeth grew ever more painful, saliva filling his mouth. With shaking fingers, he plunged his teeth in. It was painful, but his saliva soon soothed it. Haruto let out an audible, shuddering breath as he drank your blood. The mildly human part of him, was disgusted. But the newer, parasitic instinct, was delighted. Forcing himself off of you, he wiped the back off his mouth with his sleeve. The red contrasted with the pastel yellow.

"Better?" You asked, your vision spinning slightly. Haruto held you in place, although he was just as unsteady as you. He nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. He pulled you along, letting you sit down on the couch next to him. His arm around you. He grabbed the remote, turning off his game and putting a show on. His mind was still cloudy, staring at your wound.

"I think I'm fine."

𓅓 Masterpost

𓅓 Consider supporting me! (Ko-fi)

[blee-bleep]

pinagtagpo ngunit hindi tinadhana puso natin ay hindi sa isa't-isa

smol fic

Sucy didn't listen to music a lot but when she did, her playlist was admittedly pretty drab. She liked working in silence most of the time so she couldn't see much use in having a preference for music, but when she did she just let on whatever was on the radio, if there was.

Her roommate couldn't say the same. Actually, Sucy recants her statement about not having preference; she couldn't tolerate pop music for her life. Especially the ones that stayed blasting on the radio for months before being blown over by a newer, more obnoxious pop song.

Her siblings back in Cebu liked music though, enough for them to blast through their speakers and let the whole household know, not giving a shit if it bothered the other dwellers inside the house. However, as much as she claims she disliked the noise her siblings claim to be music, she couldn't help but let it trickle into her playlist. Hours upon hours of karaoke accounted for that.

So it's not weird to find some Filipino classics between the classical ones, the only other genre that Sucy could listen to while working. Some Eraserheads, UDD, Rivermaya, Itchyworms, Asin, hell, even Apo Hiking Society was in it.

Akko though, oh Sucy hates Akko's taste for music.

Robotic voices, insane fast-paced rhythms, either or also Kpop, Jpop, or just the latest Top 100 in the West. It was a mess. Much messier than whatever Sucy had back home. At least the language was familiar. This storm of a noise was not.

But Sucy sooner or later made peace with it when over time, she slowly let her walls down around Akko. Well, more like Akko had successfully knocked them down. Even after being treated like Sucy's guinea pig for her chemical experiments, she is still up and opening her arms to Sucy. A little too wide open.

One night, when Akko had come back from an afterparty that O'niell (the redhead asshat which she hung out so much) had held, she was drunk. Wasted. And accidentally puked on the foot of Sucy's desk. To be honest, she expected Akko to not come back until morning, as per usual of her shenanigans on campus.

She told Akko to clean her mess up before going to bed and went back to sleep annoyed. Akko, surprisingly, did as she was told. But had also climbed onto Sucy's side of the room. The sudden dip in Sucy's bed shook her awake.

Sucy leveled her drunk ass with a deathly stare. "What."

"What? It's cold in my bed."

"With all those stupid stuffed animals?"

"It's different," Akko sniffled. "Please? Just this once."

Sucy stared at Akko's face enough to see if this was the result of the foul gin in her breath and contemplated stuffing her in her duvet and letting her suffocate. But something must've happened at the party because Akko didn't usually look like that. Upon closer inspection, her eyes were glassy. Nose red, not from the cold, but from an obvious meltdown. After a few more seconds of staring, Sucy begrudgingly let her in.

And maybe it was the remaining alcohol in her system because then Akko turned her head and whispered, "Y'know, you're really nice."

"Shut up and go to sleep."

"No, for real. Like, thanks for putting up with my shit."

"Lotte puts up with you too."

"Yeah, love her for that. Ne," Akko suddenly turned and now they were face to face.

Too close, Sucy thinks. She hates that it's so close like this.

"Can you play some of your songs?"

"Why?"

"Dunno', just feelin like listening."

"If you're gonna start dancing on my bed, I will kick you out of this room and you're going to have to sleep in the hallway."

Akko giggles in this drunkenly stupid way and Sucy cannot believe that out of all the times Akko has laughed, this is the one that gets Sucy to think she's cute. She hopes it's dark enough that Akko doesn't notice her face turning red.

"I won't! My feet are way too tired for that," Akko shifts. "I trust you to have great taste. Just play anything. I'll like it."

"And if you don't?"

"It's you," Akko laughs. "I won't."

Somehow, Sucy lets her do this. And she opened her downloaded playlist; the only playlist on her phone, and set it down. It hummed out Orange and Lemon's Hanggang Kailan into the room, low enough to not be of an annoyance but enough for the lyrics to be heard.

Sucy blushes at the random pick of the song but doesn't move to change it. Fortunately, Akko doesn't understand Tagalog and just hums.

"Hehe, see. You have good taste."

"Shut up and go to sleep."

After that, Akko goes still and silent. Sucy can't do the same. She can sleep through Akko's snores like every other night, but when the music she typically has for the background is suddenly open like this, she suddenly becomes much more aware of the lyrics.

Umuwi ka na baby 'Di na ako sanay ng wala ka Mahirap ang mag-isa At sa gabi'y hinahanap-hanap kita

"Jesus Christ," Sucy whispers and turns so that her back is to Akko's. The bed is too small to move a lot. "This song is so corny."

She hears, feels Akko chuckling. "I like it."

The song is slow to end, and when it does, Armi Millare's voice comes out, serenading,

Ba't 'di papatulan ang pagsuyong nagkulang? Tayong umaasang hilaga't kanluran Ikaw ang hantungan, at bilang kanlungan mo Ako ang sasagip sa 'yo, whoa-oh

Again, this song is slow to close. When it does, Magnus Haven, a band Sucy isn't exactly familiar with but her sister had told her to listen, comes on. Sucy thought Akko was finally asleep before she heard her humming along to the second chorus. Sucy stills and lets her be, her eyes slowly closing, mind losing to sleep.

"... What does tadhana mean?"

"Huh?" Sucy rasps. "Destiny, or I guess, fate. Why?"

"Huh," Akko whispers the word again. "So you like those kinda songs, huh Sucy?"

Sucy blushed and was about to reprimand that Akko's taste in music wasn't better but then she heard the other girl snoring, already asleep.

Maybe it started from there, maybe earlier or later, but it was certainly a factor in how and why Sucy developed a crush like that.

Sucy wasn't as uncaring to Akko's business as she claims to be. As her roommate, she admittedly was more concerned for her than she let on. So when Sucy notices that Akko is not in the mood for experiments, or has other problems to deal with, Sucy gives her some allowance and lets her do what she thinks would calm her down. Letting her blast her music and dance her stress away, or letting her listen to Sucy's music and let her ask some dumb questions that would take her mind off what was confusing her.

Sucy is no white knight though. She won't be the one to save Akko in her every state. Sucy rationalizes her feeling of it being a result of proximity. And she won't let her heart get the best of her.

But one night, when Akko comes back to the room, Sucy notices her head is down. She is looking at something, but Sucy can't make it out.

That night, Akko asks if they could share the bed again. It's a cold night, Sucy rationalizes and lets her. Somehow, not even requested, Sucy hesitatingly places her arm across Akko's neck. Neither of them moves. Sucy waits.

"Diana asked me out today," Akko whispers. Sucy felt herself turn to stone. It's a moment before Akko says, "I don't know what she sees in a klutz like me."

everything.

Sucy holds her tongue and slowly breathes, trying to not let the night's cold make her freeze and give her an excuse to let Akko be trapped in her arms. Instead, she forces herself to sit up. Akko is facing away from her, looking at her hand.

Maybe this'll be the last time, Sucy thinks and her hand sneaks to Akko's free hand and touches it. It flinches a bit before slowly letting their fingers intertwine together. It's intimate like this. But Sucy knows this wouldn't be anything but platonic.

"Ne," Akko whispers again. "Will you play some of your songs again?"

And so Sucy does. When she sets her phone down, she slouches slightly, and unconsciously gathers a strand of Akko's hair in her free hand, playing with it absentmindedly. Akko doesn't say anything.

Sucy doesn't say she's finally made a separate playlist which consists of songs Akko said she liked.

Time goes to a crawl as Sucy's chest grows heavier. As the night goes on, as Akko's eyes shut to sleep, Juan Karlos's and Sucy's voice goes,

"Oh, 'di ba? Nakakaputang ina Tayo'y lumilipad, at ako'y iniwan mo pa 'Di ba? Ginawa mo pa akong tanga Tayo'y lumilipad, at ako'y iniwan mo, hmm"

[project-sekai-facts]

based on the interview posts, it's definitely thought-provoking to consider what's going to happen next. personally i do wonder if pjsekai will become "multi-generational" if it remains popular enough to continue (which is nearly impossible not to be considering a good portion of its competitors have been going for longer than 6 years at this point), the original 5 units would be the first generation, a conceptual new number of units being the next, and so on, because of the implication that "the original 5's stories will reach their conclusions and have an end" and after their conclusions are reached then, while they could write a new story with the characters with new adult issues and seeing them grow up further, there are still a lot of opportunities to expand on the game's lore and universe with new units, how the original units affected others, and especially sekai lore, especially since a lot of the game's lore has to do with miku helping out many individuals with their problems, and currently the majority of that is only done through the original unit's sekais, which is only a select 20 people's views (minus the vs fes cards which only have little lore anyways). Maybe it will be something like lovelive where the original generation (u's) has officially graduated but are still featured in newer games and still get some content in those games. Ultimately what happens next is something we just have to see the game develop closer to, but it's a solid option that the game can technically go for.

yeah like they said it's a difficult decisions. because on the one hand you've got these beloved characters and stories that people will have grown up with at that point, and continuing them on into 3rd year/university would mean there's more things you can do with them and new ideas you could include. and i think in a natural storytelling sense it would make sense to carry on with the main 5 because quite frankly having them all achieve their dreams and that before they've even finished high school is... somewhat unfulfilling? especially with n25 i think it would make a lot of sense to carry them on into uni, maybe have Ena go to art school and Mafuyu go to nursing school. even if their stories ended before they graduated uni I feel like that would be a really satisfying conclusion for them compared to maybe just mentioning that's where they're going when they finish high school. but then there's the fact they mentioned about just carrying on because it's popular and the story going stale because they only wrote so far. and that's definitely a threat because that can happen if they've only planned so far ahead. then again, the writing team is generally top-notch and other games have proven that you can stick around without people ever getting tired of the story.

i do however think the generational format could work. as you said it could expand more on the lore, introduce new characters with new problems, and prevent people from growing tired of the old ones. on the lore side of things i wonder if they would be included in the Tree SEKAI with the main 5, or if there would be a new collective sekai for them? the only thing about having a generational format similar to Love Live (where you completely conclude the story of the previous generation before the next generation...ish) is that you have to execute it well. SIP -> Sunshine worked because there was an in-universe 5 year timeskip. it left you with this legacy that u's had left that people were trying to chase, and Aqours had to learn that they had to find their own radiance instead of trying to directly copy u's. u's was long gone from the story and never actually appeared in the present day and that worked really well and i think was the best decision they could have made because actually having them there i think would ruin the whole idea of legacies and how they can work (sorry for rambling on a bit here I really like Sunshine). even in Superstar and Nijigaku there are nods to SIP and Sunshine but the characters never actually appear. It's similar to the VBS story actually with Nagi and trying to carry her legacy (with the difference is that u's and aqours are still alive. probably.).

that got a bit rambly but what i'm trying to say is that if you want to do a completely new generation and retire the old ones completely, it has to be done in a way that doesn't rely to much on stuff like random coincidences. you need there to be solid reasons why some kid would look up to a group of 4 kids who performed at a disneyland equivalent or 4 kids who held a music event. obviously there will be development in their stories between now and new units being added but I think adding in a timeskip and saying "yeah, they went on to do this really big inspiring thing" would be much more effective than a bunch of new characters who are hugely inspired by a niche teen music group that honesly doesn't really have much of an impact on anything. the reason VBS' story with legacies works is because there's actual stakes. RADder was a hugely successful group that had CD sales, national tours and a member that became a successful independent artist worldwide. RAD WEEKEND, although more limited to Tokyo, was still massively popular and inspired many people to put on an event that will surpass it. RADder is a big name and a big inspiration and leaves big shoes to fill, and that's why it works so well because there's big goals to work towards.

also in some ways as well a bunch of characters surpassing RW2 just after we saw VBS&Co put on RW2 would be a little bit unsatisfying I think. RADder are side characters who people are less attached to than VBS, but if you were to introduce VBS2 just after the original, even if there's a timeskip, it would probably leave a bit of a bad taste for some fans of the original VBS who'd spent years following their story.

to throw my own personal wishes for the games story on here, i think doing something similar to bandori or d4dj would work best for them. as in, adding new units who kinda take centre stage but still having the old units getting events and stories of their own. we could have new characters to keep things fresh but still get to see the original 20 growing up, having their careers take off, facing more adult problems and such. you could have the OG20 around to mentor the new characters as well, and keep the whole tree sekai lore intact with that being something that revolves around the original 5 units (and actually fucking develop the lore holy shit colopale it's been 3 years don't drag it out another 3 and then actually reveal all the lore before then completely retiring it). ahaha maybe this is a bit too self-indulgent and wishful thinking because I am way too attached to the main 20 but also from the perspective of someone who has done screenwriting classes at college it does work.

[milimeters-morales]

gonna start posting completed chapters from my transfem miles fic (Becoming Myself In Truth) on here for fun :3 this is the first chapter

Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter 5 / Chap 6 / Chap 7 / Chap 8 / Chap 9

Wordcount: 4k+

Pairings: Milesganke, not the focus. Every other relationship in this entire fic is platonic and/or familial.

Warnings: References to Underaged Smoking (Not Miles)

When Scorpion shows up, freshly broken out of prison and with a newer, more hateful outlook on life, Miles isn’t in the mood. He just got out of school, yet he can’t even get five minutes before someone attacks him.

So, when the stinger manages to pierce his arm when he gets too close, Miles goes from “not in the mood” to “really not in the mood” and “ow that hurts” and “about to throw up” in a matter of seconds. Scorpion is his one of least favorite villains for a reason. Anyway, he needed to stop him like, yesterday.

It’s easy when Miles is rushing and using a bit more force than usual, because he really needs to get somewhere safe soon, and in no time at all Miles has Scorpion webbed to an alley wall with a bit too much webbing and is dry heaving on a roof of some random building. Exactly how he wanted his afternoon to go.

The good thing is that he doesn't actually throw up, but he’s still shaking too much, and his vision is too blurry to safely swing around and serve the city at the moment. Miles lays on his side to catch his breath, and lets himself rest a bit. He might not need an antidote this time if he’s lucky…

A pigeon lands in front of him. “Don’t poke my eye,” he tells it. It cocks its head and coos, and he takes that as an “okay”.

His stomach hurts from the dry heaving, and his head and legs hurt from the poison, but if he closes his eyes, he might fall asleep. That’s not something someone like Spider-Man wants to do, especially in the beginning of his patrol, even more so out in the open like this. He’s pretty sure he isn’t supposed to fall asleep after getting a ton of venom pumped into his body anyway, that just seems like a bad idea. Curling up into a ball and covering his ears to lessen the noise of the world until he’s feeling better enough to resume patrol, Miles zones out on the pigeon.

He’s vaguely aware that it starts moving a few minutes later, inspecting him and getting closer. It pecks at his shoulder, and he sighs. It pecks him again, probably curious about the material of his suit, and Miles swiftly grabs it and gently holds it in the air so it stops bothering him.

“You good, Spidey? I heard a bunch of police sirens,” a voice calls from above, most likely a tenant for the much taller building next to the one he’s currently resting on.

“Yeah, peachy,” Miles replies, not turning to face them. He zones back in again, just in case they need something, and to let the pigeon go. It flies off immediately, and he lets his arm drop back down (ow). There’s no doubt his mom will find out about the fight with Scorpion, and then she’ll talk to his dad about the risks and get him more worked up than he already would be— it’ll be a whole thing. He should text her before she does, but… maybe after the venom has run its course (and when he could actually see straight).

“You sure?” that same voice asks about… how much time had passed? It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds or minutes, right? It forcibly zoned him back in-- he didn’t even realize he zoned out again. It was closer this time, about twenty feet away (yikes, he didn’t realize that either), but it didn’t set off his spider-sense, so he didn’t tense up and prepare to run.

“Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout me,” he replies, not moving. He hears them sit down where they are, and is silently grateful that they didn’t get closer. Their heartbeat is calm, and they smell like they’re fresh out the shower with soap and lavender, with a hint of cocoa butter. It’s probably not too strong, but in the state Miles is in right now, it’s like someone is shoving his face in the display section of a beauty store. He doesn’t want to be rude and ask them to leave, though. Hobie would probably tell him something like, “Oi oi, you don’t own the entire place, I can’t believe you became a leech, shame on you!” and ruffle his hair. Wait, no, that’s Peter who does that sometimes, Hobie would just grab his head and shake it a little.

Miles can feel his train of thought starting to derail.

Hobie probably wouldn’t have even been in this situation to begin with, and he’d find a way to beat the hell out of the landlord of this building anyway. Miles can feel his breathing slowing down, the uncomfortable weight of his hearts and lungs in his chest… shit, he might need the antidote.

“What are you laughing about?” The person asks, once again startling Miles enough to make him flinch. His eyes fly open (when did he even close them?) and it feels like something cold was pressed on the back of his neck, traveling down his spine into his legs. “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you. Can you… turn the sparks off?”

God, he didn’t even realize he was doing that. “Sorry, you’re fine,” Miles assures, “just one of those days, you know?”

“Yeah,” they laugh, “it’s all about the he says, she says bullshit.”

“…What?”

“Nothing,” they sigh.

They sit together in silence for a few more minutes until Miles feels like the venom’s effects have lessened enough for him to function like a normal human being and can finally stand up. He’s a bit shaky at first, and can feel the person staring at him, but he gets up! And that’s the important part.

“Stay safe out there,” the person tells him before he swings away.

“Thanks, you too—” Miles says, turning around to give his signature two-finger salute, albeit more lazy, but his brain stalls when he can’t tell if he should use mister or miss. They don’t look or sound obviously masculine or feminine, and they seem to find his blunder amusing from the way they smile, so he hurries and blurts out, “uh, boss.”

He swings away to avoid any further embarrassment.

——

When he returns to the dorms that night, he glances at the growing pile of schoolwork on his desk before running to the bathroom to take a shower. He’s pretty sure he needs to turn a few of those things in tomorrow, and he isn’t bone tired, so he’ll get some of that done. Hopefully it’s easy and will leave him with enough time to sleep.

After his shower he gets to work. The soft glow the lamp casts is just enough for him to see and right at the edge of “useful” before it becomes “annoying”, so he’ll use that instead of straining his eyes.

As he’s factoring a few equations, his thoughts drift back to the rooftop. That person was nice, he supposes, to stay by him until he felt better even when he said he was fine. Especially since they didn’t call an ambulance! No hate to them, he just feels bad wasting their time when he’d most likely be fine without their help. He’s getting a second wave of embarrassment from earlier when he couldn’t decide on what to call them, but he wants to see them again.

That’d be nice, he thinks.

Wait- he doesn’t want to see them again. Where’d that thought come from? And “that’d be nice”? What’s that supposed to mean? He probably just wanted to apologize for being so awkward back there. Yeah, that’s it. He wanted to apologize for potentially making them uncomfortable. They were probably polite about it out of nervousness, it’s what he would have done.

His work is very interesting all of a sudden.

——

He’s a bit sloppy one night during patrol.

His shoulder throbs as a reminder of a crowbar-wielding thief he didn’t dodge in time.

Otherwise, it’s a very successful night. Several crimes stopped before they could happen or get worse, multiple people walked home or accompanied as they waited for their ride home, and none of the bigger headaches-- sorry, villains-- none of them decided to show their faces. He did slam into a wall once, but nobody saw, so he actually didn’t slam into it, meaning his pride was intact.

A shout from directly below has him dropping down onto the ground. “Everything okay?” He asks the two women, one of whom he recognizes as one of his teachers, as they jump back from the storm drain.

“Yeah, dropped my fucking keys,” his teacher, Ms. Green, says. It feels a bit weird to hear a teacher curse so easily, but she’s not his teacher right now, he can’t focus on that.

The other woman groans and holds her head in her hands. “Don’t suppose you can get down there somehow?” she asks.

Hm. Maybe?

“Uh, I can try,” Miles says, wondering if he should really attempt it and get all smelly, “Can you see it from here? I might be able to just-”

Ms. Green rolls her eyes at the other woman’s question, “She was joking.”

Oh. Okay? Didn’t really sound like that, but it’s whatever.

“I’ll just… use the bus.” She sighs, frustrated.

“Would you like me to wait with you?” Miles asks, realizing he can see the keys from here from their shine. He could probably get it with a well-placed shot.

“No thanks,” Ms Green replies, before walking to the bus stop with the other lady.

Miles can definitely grab those keys. He just needs to…

With a small smile, he shoots a web at the keys through the grate, and carefully pulls them up into his hand. They’re a bit dirty, but nothing a thorough wash won’t fix. Probably. Hopefully. “Hey, I got them,” he begins to try and catch up with the women, but a large boom shocks him, and he crushes the keys in his hand like it’s clay out of shock.

“Sorry,” he hurries and says before swinging off towards the noise.

Unsurprisingly, it’s a robbery. Also unsurprisingly, he handles it quickly. Even more unsurprisingly, he managed to get grazed by a bullet on his thigh, because apparently it’s a cosmic rule that Spider-Man can’t have too many good things happen in a row. One is lucky, but two? Now you’re pushing it, buddy. Three is seriously his unlucky number. Grazes hurt enough, he doesn’t want to deal with the pain for longer than he has to.

There was a small fire he put out after getting the criminals a safe distance away from the site, and the smoke got all in his lenses and mouth even though he tried to work as quick as possible. Normally, he wouldn’t stick around, he’d probably be making his way back to the dorms to deal with the graze and to wash the suit, but the pain is making it incredibly difficult to even keep his eyes open to focus. He knows he’s teetering on the lamp, but he doesn’t want to be on the ground in case another threat appears.

“That hurt y’know,” he tells them to make them feel bad. He’s looking at the man that shot at him with narrowed lenses, but it probably isn’t really working to intimidate with his unsteady positioning. He might as well mess with them until he’s focused enough to keep swinging. “I swear I’ve seen you somewhere before…” He leans in a bit (bad idea, he almost falls completely off), pointing to the man. They’re all wearing baggy clothes, ski masks, and don’t have any visible markings on them-

That’d be nice.

The thought comes out of nowhere and makes Miles unstick, and he falls onto the ground below, much to the amusement of the thieves and the embarrassment of himself. He accidentally growls at them before swinging off. Pain be damned, he’s not sticking around after that.

——

Miles sits on the edge of the tub, watching as Ganke kneels on the ground next to him to clean the graze on his thigh. He feels a bit bad for waking him up with his clumsy return through the window, but Ganke assured him he wasn’t sleeping well anyway.

“Thanks again,” he tells him, “I know it’s gross.”

Ganke smiles tiredly. “A little grossness wouldn’t scare me away, or else I’d have transferred by now.” Pushing his glasses down onto his face, Ganke pats the area around the graze dry from the antiseptic. “Do you think you’ll need— oh, nevermind,” he’s interrupted by the sight of the dermis layer stitching itself back together. “Does that make a noise too?”

Miles nods, “Kind of like… cleaning your ear. That squishing sound, or how movies make ice sound when it’s spreading somewhere. But you can go back to bed, I can put the bandages on myself.” He leans over and grabs the package from near Ganke’s knee, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead as he opens it.

“Alright, wake me up if you need anything,” Ganke tells him with a yawn as he gets up and leaves the bathroom, “just not your homework. I’m not doing math before I have to.”

——

The graze isn’t healing.

Well, it is, but not as quick as usual, which means he has to deal with the itchiness that comes from a more natural healing speed. His mom, after not-so-subtly implying that it’s because he’s too stressed and should take a break, suggested wearing more loose clothes than usual when he can so his wounds aren’t irritated as they heal, and he’s starting to really appreciate the advice. But probably not for the reason anybody would expect.

He’s in the drinks section of a bodega, trying to remember what he was doing here in the first place. He’s distracted by his reflection in the door, and he feels… content. He feels good, really great, in Uncle Aaron’s old puffer on top of his hoodie and in his mom’s (don’t tell anybody) old baggy jeans. She said he could borrow them since she hasn’t worn them since highschool, and they fit surprisingly well and comfortably. Paired with the fogginess of the reflection, he looks just… vague. And he really, really likes it. This is definitely a new style he can get behind.

Someone clears their throat behind him, startling him into moving. He hurries to the candy aisle, finally remembering that he was doing a snack run for himself, Ganke, and his parents. Why Ganke hung back at home, he has no idea.

“Okay,” the cashier says with a tired drawl, “will that be all m… sir?”

Miles feels his eyes widen and a small, vaguely light feeling in his chest. He quickly pays for his things and leaves, ready to get back to his friends.

On the walk back, he wonders briefly if the feeling meant anything deeper than him finding it really amusing.

…

Probably not. They might have thought he was too young-looking to be called “Mister” or whatever.

——

“No, I just knew they’d be cheaper here and wanted to see if you want anything,” Miles says into the phone as he picks out a pair of baggy jeans. They don’t look anything like the ones his mom lent him, but they’ll do. They actually look like the ones those thieves from a week back wore, now that he thinks about it.

“Prolly don’t have my size,” Hobie replies. There’s the sound of metal clanging and a girl shouting angrily. “Any skirts you think I’d like?”

“All of them are old lady skirts,” Miles says, and catches a pair of elderly women sending him a disapproving glare. “but anyone of any age can wear them,” he adds quickly.

Hobie laughs, and there’s a loud screech of metal being pulled. What was he even doing? “M’the last person you needa tell that to. Grab three you like so someone else’ll be able to take them.”

Miles switches his phone to press between his shoulder and ear as he grabs a few sweaters and torn jeans. “I don’t wear skirts, though.”

“Wanna try?”

Miles feels his mouth go a bit dry. “Nah, my legs are like, suuuper hairy anyway. Wouldn’t that be…” he trails off.

“You sure? Hairy legs don’t hurt nobody. I don’t shave.”

Well that’s because Hobie doesn’t even grow enough hair to where it’s noticeable.

But Miles wasn’t really sure. Well, maybe he was? He didn’t really want to wear these skirts. People would make fun of him. Or be mean. He didn’t really want to deal with that right now, he just wanted some comfortable baggy clothes. But it’s not like he hates skirts, they can be super pretty sometimes! And his mom says they’re great for hot days. But, like… he won’t say that he’s never thought about it- and who hasn’t from time to time? Every guy thought about wearing skirts from time to time, and there are guys who do! Hobie! Well, Hobie’s not always guy, but-

“Miles?”

“Nah man, I’m good,” Miles finally answers, “You can just donate them if you don’t end up liking ‘em. These look like the Skirts of Theseus anyway.”

“Aight, be safe,” Hobie tells him, audibly breaking something. “Uh, don’t bring ‘em immediately, oil spilled everywhere. Damn, it’s getting in the seats.”

Oh, he’s working on that hunk of junk that he calls a car again.

“You too. Don’t get yourself killed working on that shitty Impala.”

“Piss off,” Hobie laughs before hanging up.

When he waits in line to check out, with probably three of the most disappointing looking skirts he’s ever seen, the people behind him give him a strange look. He clutches the clothes closer to his chest.

——

He doesn’t even make it fully through the door before his dad is telling him to go take a shower.

“You smell like gasoline and smoke, were you at a fire or with Hobart again?”

“Dad, he’s trying to quit,” Miles tried to argue, but his dad simply pointed to the bathroom.

With a quiet sigh, he trudged to the bathroom, which led him here, with his mother’s razor in his hand and staring down at his now hairless legs. He runs a hand down one, marveling at how smooth it is. Hobie’s words about hairy legs made him think of shaving his own, just to see what the hype is all about with all the other girls, and he was in the shower, so why not? It’s not like anybody would notice anyway since he wears pants most of the time, and he could always just grow it back if he didn’t like it. He’s honestly surprised he didn’t cut himself.

“Not bad for a first try,” he mutters, placing the razor back.

When he gets out and goes to his room, he can’t stop rubbing his legs together. They’re just so smooth and seem to glide against each other and on the sheets. Is this the real reason people shave? He can totally get behind this.

Hmm… has his dad ever shaved his legs? Miles has seen him shave his face a bunch of times, and hears his mom complain a few about hair being left in the sink. Other boys his age are already growing out their facial hair and talking about how they have to shave it sometimes, so do they shave their legs too? Do guys shave their legs just as much as women do, but just don’t talk about it? It’s probably another social rule Miles just didn’t pick up on, really.

Not something he really feels like dwelling on, either. It’ll just grow back anyway, and it’s like Hobie said, “hairy legs don’t hurt nobody.”

——

“Whoa there, little guy,” Miles chickles as he scoops up a puppy from the road before it can get run over. It growls at him, the rude little animal, but he knows it’s just scared. After he swings up to the roof of a nearby deli, he sees a small splinter in its paw as he’s checking it over. “Aww, poor thing,” he coos, swiftly pulling out the woodchip. Checking the collar, Miles discovers the pup’s name is Matrimony, which… is definitely a name!

Its fur isn’t dirty, it’s a bit round, and the eyes don’t have any crust like Miles has seen countless other tiny white dogs have, so maybe it escaped through a window or door while the owner was unaware.

“Hey Spidey, that yours?” A random woman wearing a dirty apron comes up to him and points at the dog. “That bichon frise?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he answers, holding the puppy closer.

“Relax, I’m not taking it. Just wanted to check in, since the whole… other… rooftop thing. Strange how this happened twice at the same place, huh?”

What? He stands up to look at her better. “Sorry, we’ve met? It’s just been such a busy week, I don’t really remember!”

“No, it was— uh sorry, I don’t know why I expected you to remember that— you were on the roof holding a bird? And I stayed with you until you got up again?”

Oh. Oh! Shoot!

“Oh dang, I’m sorry! Thank you again for that, but yeah ma—” he stops himself from saying man, “my boss—” oh, that’s just weird, “this isn’t my dog. But you recognize it?”

The person smiles at his blunder (again) and shakes their head. “Just the breed. Cute little things aren’t they?” They slowly go to pet the puppy, but quickly back off when it growls. “I was never great with dogs anyway.”

“Okay, I’m going see if anybody lost this little guy,” Miles tells them. “Be safe out there, uh, what’s your name?”

“Kody,” they respond, waving goodbye.

“Be safe out there Kody!” He says with a smile he hopes they can hear, and climbs down the shop and begins asking around, not letting anyone actually touch it. If it were up to him, which it kind of is because he hasn’t found the owner but not really because he’s a good person, he’d take the dog to his dorms and raise it as his own with Ganke, and they’d alternate on who sneaks it home for the weekends. He’s heard from the upperclassmen that they’d have to do that with flour sacks as pretend-babies one day, so this would be good practice!

No, no. He’s getting ahead of himself. Last time he snuck a cat into his home, he had to kneel in the corner for an hour and all the chores everyday for a week. He hasn’t had to do that in YEARS, and he’s going to do everything to avoid that happening again.

There’s a dog park nearby, so he decides to check there in case the puppy somehow got loose of his leash or whatever was restraining him.

After nearly an hour of confused looks, adoring coos (not towards him, of course), and brief annoyed glances from several people, he comes upon a woman crying on a bench. She was dressed pretty fancy, wearing a tight pink dress, tights, a leather jacket, and crazy-looking heels, and her hair was in an elaborate updo. Probably not something to really wear to a place filled with energetic dogs kicking up dust and dirt, but who’s Miles to judge? He’s the one in a black spandex costume in the middle of the day, after all.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?” He asks her in a soft voice.

Does she look okay? What a genius, Miles thinks to himself.

“Do I look okay?!” She sobs. “My baby is gone! I can’t find him anywhere!”

“A human baby? Or a dog baby? Maybe I can help you, or find people who can.” Miles sits down next to her, placing the dog on his lap and holding it there. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” he adds.

“My- My dog, we were doing some socializing,” the woman begins to look over at him, but gasps at the puppy. “Matty!” She swipes the puppy away, startling him with her speed, and spins around while hugging it. She places kisses all over its head, smearing pink lipstick and her running mascara on its fluffy white fur. It licks her face happily, which might not be healthy. Can dogs ingest mascara?

“You found my baby! Matrimony!”

Oh! Cool! Well, not the name, obviously, but—

“Nice! Well, uh, I’m glad to have helped! You should probably get a tighter harness, ma’am.” Miles gets up, ready to leave, but the woman stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“No, wait! Here, I don’t have my cash on me right now, but you can have these.” She removes her hand and reaches under the bench to reveal a purse that matches her dress, and pulls out a tiny black box wrapped in a tiny bow. “They’re earrings. I was going to wear ‘em, but I already have too many,” she flashes a bright smile at him and kisses her puppy again, “so take it as a thanks! From the both of us, because who knows what would have happened to my little baby if you hadn’t found him!”

It’s not registering as a threat, so they’re probably actually earrings in here and not something like a small bomb or tear gas. Or silly string. Ugh. “Thank you,” he says, not mentioning he doesn’t wear earrings, “hope you and Matty enjoy your day!” He walks away, rubbing his thumb over the ribbon.

What’s he going to do with these?

A/N: i’m not yet sure if i’ll keep posting all the completed chapters even when the entire fic itself is complete, bc i plan for it to be kind of long but. i’ll cross that bridge when i get to it

[head---ache]

OKAY SO NOW IM READY TO ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT MAREEP AND GRACE INSTEAD OF JUST DRAWING THEM BEING GAY!!!!

So!!!! I'm pretty sure by now that yeah, I can add them to the Live & Learn Au, so here's how that'll work:

I'll start with Grace since she's the one I have the least to talk about (SHE'S NEWER I'M SORRY I'LL DEVELOP HER MORE</3).

Grace was originally going to be a fankid like the rest of the original characters in this au, but that went against a personal headcanon that I decided to include in the au a while ago, and while I haven't talked about it and therefore there wouldn't be any problem changing it, it still bothered me too much, so now Grace is just an oc (hence the change in species she had, so she wouldn't have anything that linked her to her original parents).

Tha way Grace appears in the story needs a bit of context to be properly explained: I recently decided that the Restoration (the one from the IDW comics, that used to be the Resistance from Sonic Forces) will have something like a 'Teen Program' which is kind of just preparation??? For the teenagers because at this point the canon characters are all adults and have decided that yeah no they can't keep putting children in those situations NSLDJSLFKWK so they go through training and all that stuff. This group and program has Destiny as their leader, btw!!! And!!!! Grace joins this program:) (I just decided that Grace is 17).

And now Mareep!!! I'm super excited for her because I was thinking about her story in the shower (as one does) and GUYS!!!!! I THINK SHE'LL HAVE HER OWN CHARACTER ARC!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOHOOO

SO Surge and Lanolin are exes, making Mareep a child of divorce (not really they were never married) and she's like a very edgy and nihilistic teenage girl who goes ugh and rolls her eyes at everything. She's also childhood friends with Lash!! But she's kind of a bad influence, since she usually just wants to drag Lash with her to be an angsty teen. And Lash used to go with her, but when she became closer with the rest of our kids (especially Aim and Spades) she started hanging out less and less with Mareep, and realized that she was a bit toxic.

They still talk, but Mareep has a very obvious resentment towards the group Lash is hanging out with, and even Lash herself.

And that's all I'll say about Mareep for now!!! There's more I have planned for her but haha it's too soon to talk about that:)

AND YEAH I HOPE YOU ENJOY THEM!!!!!! as of right now they're still pretty separated from the rest of the kids, but I'll find a way!!!!>:)

[lacktastrophe]

Do you think Taeshi will ever resolve the conflict between Mike and Lucy in a satisfying way, narratively speaking? I want them to fix their relationship badly, but for that to happen, Mike has to get over Sandy and mature more. I want to see Mike and Lucy have a stronger bond after overcoming such terrible circumstances in their relationship, but I think being a huge source of conflict might put the series’ narrative longevity in jeopardy, so I’m not sure if I want to hold out hope or not.

After seeing elements of Abbey's story being (mostly) closed out accompanied with moments of closure, I'm absolutely confident that Veronica' will be able to have them both be resolved in a good way. But I feel reaching that point is going to require a lot of effort and time on behalf of the characters, particularly those two. We've had some insight into their complexes and seen how little has really changed since Lucy's return. And to complicate matters further there's a lot of newly fractured ground on an otherwise hopeless situation. Now that Mike's realised he's trapped in a relationship he's not happy with and burned Lucy again, we can bet that these will probably get worked on progressively with some focus through the story. But I feel this growth will be the slowest because it's been the corner stone of characters behaviour, like Lucy's. There's a lot that needs to happen! And for most parts I feel that Lucy's is going to be a balancing act on opening up and relying on others. I'd be confident her happiness will be through resolving the problems around her, but I'm not writing it, so whatever happens is going to happen!

I don't think it really has much to do with Mike needing to mature. He already has the foundation to make the right choices, it's just he's found himself in an ironic predicament: trapped a relationship where he's obligated to keep things going despite being otherwise really unhappy, just like he was much younger when he thought Lucy was more take then give. I figure what we're looking for here is more an idea of growth for him to realise that ultimately long distance doesn't work and his source of happiness is more closer to home. Sorry Sandy but you either move back or it's over, Baby!

Comparatively Lucy is in a considerably worse situation because of her internalised baggage over the abandonment she suffered through the series, which came to light as the reason we're seeing her push herself away from the others.

There's also the co-dependency, Lucy isn't motivated to find new friends, everything comes back to Mike.

I get a lot of people still want Mike x Lucy win out but I feel we should be prepared for the eventuality that these two might decide instead that they need to meet newer people for their own health, especially given they've been pretty bad to each other a few times now. That might be the result of the "Bittersweet". Terribly ironic given McCain's analysis but, you know he's right -- most relationships in school don't win out, and there needs to be a lot to occur for these two to resolve their issues while addressing all of their baggage -- Because I can't see how Mike and Lucy can remain a pair while knowing Lucy is still co-dependent. That's not something I feel we can really just end with.

But again, I'm a fan of closure when it comes to issues like this, so for me I really do want to see how these issues are addressed. At the same time I feel any result would be satisfying. It can't stay in this perpetual-hell forever and must eventually end.

I feel Lucy and Mike's arc ending is the pen-ultimate end to BCB, what starts with the comic has to be at the end, but at the same time I think there could even still be enough there for the series to continue regardless -- we saw this when Lucy moved away originally; you have three other protagonists and everyone mostly moved on after the first initial chapters dealing with the fallout anyway!

But yeah, I'm sure it'll be resolved, but I just wouldn't hold out for certain relationships, I think 10 years has illustrated that point for a lot of people who liked Paulo x Jasmine LMFAO.

[self-shipping-doll13]

#4 - Bookshelf

A Peak At What’s Inside Their… Prompts

Wc: 793

“Grab that book for me while you’re on your feet, would you?” Liam’s voice came lazily from the armchair, where he was sprawled with one leg hooked over the armrest, a whiskey glass balanced on his knee as he absentmindedly traced the rim. 

I obediently meandered over by the bookshelf.

Tall, dark wood, and slightly overcrowded, like everything else in his flat that seemed to be more lived-in than fully organised. It was an eclectic collection: battered paperbacks were shoved against scratched up hardcovers, titles in gold-embossed lettering beside others so faded you had to tilt them to the light to make them out. Some had the look of old friends, their covers yellowed with age, while others were newer and white as rice grains, pristine even, like they hadn’t earned their place yet.

“Which one?” I asked, stepping closer and letting my fingers skim along the worn edges.

“Middle shelf, left corner,” he said. “That slim one, tea-coloured.”

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the worn black wood as I took it all in.

This wasn’t just a regular hoard of literature. A brass compass sat snugly between an old volume of Dubliners and a tattered collection of Oscar Wilde’s poems. Its glass surface was tarnished, but the needle still shivered dutifully when I poked it, having never forgotten how to find North.

Beside it, a small bottle of sea salt caught the light. It was stoppered with a cork, the grains inside as fine as sand. Snatching it up, I rolled it between my fingers, imagining him scooping it up from some windswept shore, the cold air brackish and the suds of waves teasing at his boots.

Further down was a taxidermy beetle, pinned in a shadowbox frame no bigger than my palm. Its elytra shimmered green, like a glimmer of flowing Irish rivers. Again, I wondered if he’d captured these oddities himself, or if he’d stumbled across them in one of his wanderings through a secondhand shop or flea market. 

Then there were the books themselves: Ulysses, its sapphire-blue jacket frayed at the edges. The Wind Among The Reeds, its beloved pages foxed and soft. North, a volume of Seamus Heaney’s, thumbed so often it was on the verge of collapse.

“Does it ever bother you that they’re not in any kind of order?” I asked, glancing back at him.

“Nah,” he said, having been mid-sip. “I know where everything is. That’s all that matters.”

I finally found Padraic Fiacc’s The Selected, its spine cracked but sturdy, and pulled it free. A musty scent drifted up from its paper, and it was indeed beige like spilled milky tea. 

Beside the bookcase was a stack of vinyl records, leaning precariously as if one wrong move might send them sliding to the floor.

Unable to resist more nosing, I crouched to examine them, running my hand over the topmost sleeve. Leonard Cohen’s Songs of Love and Hate, a few records by The Smiths, a band I didn’t know called ‘Them,’ Van Morrison’s Moondance and a compilation of Thin Lizzy’s. Something classical beneath those dusty jackets—Vivaldi, perhaps? It was a strange mix, curated with care. Hours spent turning each record over in his hands before choosing the next.

“You’ve got good taste,” I said over my shoulder.

“Always have,” he replied patiently, a good-natured chuckle in his words. “D’you find it, love?”

“Yeah.” I straightened up with the book in hand and crossed back to him, holding it up like a prize. 

“Good woman.” He didn’t bother shifting, staying sprawled like a king in his chair, but his arm reached out, catching me at the waist as I handed him the book. “Sit,” he said simply, tugging me gently down onto his lap. 

Liam’s arm curled around me, keeping me steady as I settled sideways, my head resting against his shoulder. He was all wiry limbs and strong, beating heart thumping from sternum to my ear. 

“You’re a nosy wee bird today,” he teased, flipping open the book but not reading it yet. 

“Just curious,” I said, tracing the script lightly. First Movement. “You’ve a lot of really interesting things stashed away in here, I can tell.”

A little jolt of happiness sparked through me as I recognised my hometown, but then Liam’s thumb scraped to turn it away. 

Those murky green eyes were beckoning, like a shiny glint at the bottom of a lake. “Maybe,” he said, his lips quirking into an easy half-smile. “You’re welcome to dig around all you like. But don’t go judging the state of my records.”

I laughed softly, sinking further into his warmth as he finally opened to a favourite page and began reading, the lilting cadence of his voice like music in the quiet flat.

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[awmancreeper]

⋆｡˚⋆꒰ঌMY DRESS-UP, DREAMER ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆ 4 - Social Cues

--౨ৎ✩°｡⋆ Soobin, a quiet doll painter finds it too good to be true when a charismatic girl asks Soobin to help fulfill her dream of being a cosplayer. Along the way, they’ve realized they have much more in common than they thought and maybe something more.

Masterlist / prev / next

!!Written Parts!!

“Wah, this is amazing!” Soobin’s eyes lit up.

Ever since middle school, He’s been using an antique sewing machine that his grandfather gifted to him. Finally giving out in Soobin’s junior year of college, his fabric went through the newer machine with ease as he only pushed the fabric on his end.

Choosing an empty sewing room, he felt content as he figured nobody would use this room since there were 4 other rooms before this one.

Gently pulling out a doll that was also gifted to him by his grandfather, Soobin looks down at her with a dreamy smile. “Your dress is gonna look amazing”

Now alone in a room, nothing could stop him-

The door flies open revealing the last person Soobin thought he’d ever see

Y/n L/n

You were disheveled, your ripped stockings along with scraps on your kneels and leaves in your hair; not to mention the death glare that was printed across your face.

It looks like you were lost in a jungle or at least crashed into a street light bc you were too busy tweeting rather than watching where you were going.

Soobin was flabbergasted as he didn’t expect anyone to come in especially when he was talking to his doll.

Your face did not help the situation at all, “Y-Y/N?! I-“ Soobin tried to save himself but turning so quickly caused his doll to fly from his hands.

It’s like his world slowed down watching his prized possessions fly through the air yet just as fast as he lost her the faster he was to throw himself down to catch the doll.

Landing on his side he quickly checked his doll for any damage “I’m so sorry! Does anything hurt-” He yells towards the doll but quickly stops as he realizes he's not the only person in the room.

Looking up you guys lock eyes ‘Oh god’ he thought

“What the hell?” You questioned as Soobin shut his eyes hiding the doll in his chest ‘It's over’

“You know how to sew?! That’s so awesome!!”

Soobin opened his eyes confused only to find you staring back at him with stars in your eyes “You know how to use the machines!”

He sat up on his knees “Oh well, my grandfather owns an antique doll shop so i learned how to sew when I was a kid,”

“Just kind always knew”

“That’s so cool!! Wait is that one of the dolls, can I see it?” You said excitedly joining Soobin on the floor.

With a lot of hesitation, Soobin decided to hold out the doll. Slowly you scooted closer to examine it “Wow she’s so beautiful”

His heart skipped a beat shocked by your reaction “Her eyes even sparkle” you whispered

Looking at you, he smiled as his cheeks warmed up feeling good about someone complimenting something he loves.

“So did you make this doll?”

“Oh no, my grandpa is the one that made her… I’m not there yet I still only know how to make clothes-“

“Hold the phone. You know how to make clothes?”

Soobin shrugged his shoulders “Yeah?”

“For real?” looking at him with such curiosity made him stumble through his words “I mean yeah but that easily-“Before he could finish speaking you had already pulled off your top leaving you in your undershirt.

Blood rushed to his face as you stood up grabbing the edge of your undershirt revealing a bit of your tummy.

Absolutely dumbfounded, Soobin had NO IDEA what to make out of this situation.

Lifting the thin fabric over your head, the cold air hits your back. Looking over at Soobin who looks like he’s trying not to pass out, you suddenly feel self-conscious and ask him to turn around where he gladly (and quickly) faces the other way.

Trying so hard to forget the color of your bra and the way they sat so perfectly in the cups. Soobin internally freaks out trying not to feel like a high school student but his stupid perverted brain is making up these scenarios in his head

“Hey Soobin”

“I’ll do it!- I mean how can I help you?” Mentally face-palming at his words he can hear the insecurity in your voice “You can start by looking at me”

Feeling so embarrassed and guilty he says “w-why?”

“Please just turn around”

Taking a deep breath he looks over his shoulder.

You stood there with a piece of black cloth draped over your body, not sure what it might be Soobin definitely envisioned something more or actually something completely less.

Obviously embarrassed you found it hard to stay still “I'm not done with it okay!” You said nothing meeting Soobin’s eyes whatsoever

“I know I’ve got a lot to learn but what do you think? Any advice?” You asked squeezing your eyes shut

“Uh on what? What exactly are you wearing?” He spoke so bluntly as it felt like someone stabbed you in the back

Bending down to grab your phone, Soobin immediately turned away avoiding any panty shots. Turning back at the sound of you clearing your throat, Soobin finds a phone in his face.

Taking the phone he sees an anime character on your screen, she's wearing gothic maid-esce attire “It’s that!” You said

Soobin looked between the photo and you not finding any resemblance to the clothes the characters’ wearing “Well I mean it’s going to be that when I’m done”

“It’s just a little project, I made it” This completely shocked him causing him to stand up

“What, you’re joking right?”

“No, I’m being totally serious, I worked really hard on it”

Soobin looked at the picture one more time “Are you sure because that looks like nothing you have no right now”

“I don’t know what you’re wearing but it’s definitely not this!” Boom, it’s like a bus hit you

“This type of material is supposed to have a lining” Soobin explained but just being hit by a bus you stumbled to comprehend anything “a-a lining?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what a lining is?!!! Who taught you how to sew?!”

You practically dusted away as Soobin walked over to you grabbing the fabric by your thigh “And look at this!!”

“Your seams are falling apart!! Why didn’t you backstitch them?!”

“And these stitches right here, did you sew them with no bobbin?”

“Oh my god, this is actually horrible!!”

Switching his attention to your neck line “I mean come on!!! Why would you change the tense on the dial right there? Are you-?!!” He was gonna continue but the sound of your whimper cut him off

Look up at your face he sees you trying to hold back tears

Next thing you knew Soobin’s forehead met the ground “Please! Forgive me, I went way too far, I am so sorry!”

“Kill me now! I insist!” He said on the floor

“What?! No, get up!”

“I’ll do anything for you just please tell me!” Soobin told you feeling like a complete idiot for not picking up social cues

“Stop that! I’m not mad!” You shouted as he shook “Not even a little bit!”

He recounted his life wondering how he got to this point “Seriously dude, it’s okay” you told him patting his head.

He peered up at you as you walked towards the window.

“So here’s the thing,” you spun around facing Soobin making a stance “This dress is the first step to achieving my goal!”

“Goal?” He questioned

“Yup! To cosplay!”

Taglist: @suzirumas @txtbrainrot @skzeyeu @hrtzsoob @wonderstrucktae OPEN (ask or comment to be added)

[ghost-town-story]

FebruarOC Day 5: Elouise

(Eli has finally been dethroned lol. But also, somebody pls tell me why the fuck I decided to write all action/little dialogue smh)

From the outside, the building didn’t look like much. Settled even on the outskirts of the old town it was a part of, the roof had long ago caved in, taking at least a quarter of the outer walls with it. Nature had done her part on what remained, moss claiming every undisturbed surface and ivy clinging to the remaining walls like it was trying to drag them down too. Silence coated every inch of the place, broken only by the rustle of wind and the occasional refrain of birdsong.

In the light of the setting sun, the place looked dark and almost creepy, but Elouise just grinned and sped up as she got closer.

The temperature dropped considerably as she stepped through what remained of the doorway, leaving the sunlight for shadows. Elouise was unphased though as she continued through the old building, weaving around chunks of masonry that were hidden amongst the tall grass that had taken over the floor.

Elouise opened a door tucked away near the back of the building, revealing a staircase presumably leading down to a basement. She made her way down the stairs, where she was met with another door, this one sturdier and definitely newer.

She turned the handle and pushed it open, and it was like stepping into another world. The basement was dark, lit only by randomly flashing lights and neon signs hung haphazardly at random intervals. Loud music played from hidden speakers, the bass turned up so high that Elouise could feel it reverberating in her chest.

At her entrance, a few people nearby turned to look at her, but as she let the door swing shut behind her, their attention drifted away. She was here just often enough that most of the regulars knew her face and that she wouldn’t cause trouble.

Elouise wound her way through the basement and down a hallway until she reached a familiar dimly lit room. She closed the door behind her, muffling the music to something more tolerable. “Hello darling,” she said out loud.

The room was filled with boxes and shelves, all haphazardly filled and stacked on top of one another and labeled in some code that Elouise had never cared to try and understand. She ignored all that and headed for the back corner of the room.

Hidden away behind all the clutter, and half covered up by a box Elouise shoved out of the way, was a small archway. When she was standing, the top of the arch barely reached her hips, and when she crouched down to look through, the other side appeared pitch black. Elouise didn’t hesitate for even a moment before she started crawling through the arch.

The passage, while small and cramped, was thankfully short, and soon Elouise emerged into the room on the other side. It appeared nearly identical to the room she’d just left, only without all the clutter and evidence of use.

Elouise quickly retraced her steps, through the now quiet and totally dark basement, up the stairs, and through the ruins of the building above. The sun was just barely still filtering through the trees, casting long shadows across the ground as she ran along a path that only she knew. She at least wanted to meet up with the others before it got too dark.

Before too long, her path merged with a game trail, that turned into a walking path, that widened into a dirt road, that then turned to cobblestones. It was then that she finally caught sight of the others.

Felix was the first one she saw, his pale hair a beacon in the last remaining rays of the sun. Next to him, she could see Viktor talking, his arms waving animatedly as he shared whatever story was on his mind at this moment. It took her a few moments to find Calix even though they were the tallest of the group, but eventually she spotted them lurking in the shadows of a tree, their head moving in time to track Viktor’s movements.

Viktor noticed her first and waved. “About time you got here!” he called.

“Yeah yeah.” Elouise darted the last few feet between them to sock Viktor in the arm. “Ivy and Jakob make it?”

“Earlier this afternoon,” Felix explained as Viktor whined overdramatically in pain. “But Ivy wasn’t feeling well, and Jakob decided to stay back with her.”

Elouise raised her eyebrows at him. He gave her a deadpan stare back that said They are eleven and twelve we will not be actively pushing them together.

She shrugged and gave him her most innocent smile in response.

“We should head back to town,” Calix spoke up. “It’s getting late.” As if on cue, the sun finally slipped below the horizon, deepening the shadows that always hid their face from view.

“Sounds like a plan.” Elouise looped her arm with Felix’s. “Let’s go.”

[coupleoffanfics]

I like the idea of the family reading y/n's old diaries when they're becoming yandere and finding she had some yandere tendencies herself.

Everything thing is fine and normal until y/n's entries start bringing up her boyfriend. How much she loves him and how perfect he is. They kinda brush it off thinking that this is just a teenage girl's first love. Her writing conveys how ecstatic she is by the mere thought of him. She was smitten.

Then they come across multiple pages that are ripped out. The following entry after all the missing pages are a bit worrying and as they keep reading it only gets worse.

’I know I could be considered a bit obsessive, but I can’t help it. I think I’m doing a good job at hiding my feelings because everyone is acting normal.'

’I think I’m getting worse. I can’t go a day without seeing him and I start feeling anxious when he’s not around. I almost started crying because I thought I lost him when shopping. Yes, I know it’s not normal, but I don’t care. He’s all I want and need.’

‘Okay, I have a problem. I actually thought of ways to put a girl in the hospital after she kept flirting with him. He wasn’t reciprocating, proving that he was loyal since she was much better-looking than me. Thought it was not like that’s an achievement, but that’s not the point. I actually thought of hurting someone even trying to justify it by saying that she deserved what she got.'

'I’m actually starting to fear my strong feelings. The thought of him leaving me brings me such emotional distress that I think it adds to the reason why I should bring this up with my therapist. This is not only unhealthy but could become dangerous if I don’t do anything.’

Barbara gains a whole new perspective on y/n's relationship with her boyfriend. Whenever he was brought up there was a brightness in y/n's eyes that made her overlook that dark twinkle. She has seen them together recently and they seem normal, so she wonders if y/n's obsessive nature has weakened. Getting her hands on y/n's newer diary will no doubt have more information about that.

Tim is trying to figure out who the hell her boyfriend is. The name written on multiple pages sounds familiar and later learns that they actually have had a lot of classes together. So while looking into him, Tim is at least satisfied that y/n's obsession isn't a dumbass or anything. He'll do in-depth research on her boyfriend and try to find every little thing about him. Judging him very harshly despite not meeting or even remembering him.

Bruce is a bit weary about this. Okay yeah, him trying to force his daughter back into their lives isn't an ethical thing. But he's worried about where this could lead further down the line if unsupervised. So maybe it's best that he keeps a closer eye on her just in case she does end up doing something. Doesn't believe that she'll end up harming anyone, it's more of an excuse to justify what he's doing.

Dick is surprised by this revelation. He was expecting teenage angst from her diary but got this instead. He's not complaining or anything, it's very insightful. With how much y/n hypes up her boyfriend he can't wait to meet him. He probably digitally scanned every single page of her diary and might use it against y/n at some point only if he has to of course.

Damian might be the least surprised. Okay, that's a lie, he wasn't expecting that. If the family was caught stalking or anything yandere-ish and she was telling them off. He might say, "But it's okay when you do it?" Other than that he doesn't care. As long y/n's significant other doesn't get in his way of getting closer to y/n, then fine. He'll live with this.

I feel like Jason would be the most shocked by this. y/n isn't a young adult to him. Every time he looks at her he just sees a little kid that can't read for shit. Not some obsessive girl chasing some nerd. Whenever y/n is around, he watches her closely trying to figure out what she's thinking. It's just bizarre knowing that y/n, the one who doesn't like punching villains too hard, has thought of hurting one of her classmates.

At the end of the day, they might not do much until y/n's boyfriend starts going insane. Some family members might enable it more than others. At the same time, others will use y/n's unhealthy love against her when she confronts their yandere behavior.

I don't know, just thought it was a fun idea.