#he seems to b pretty clearly having fun with it already so i think he just keeps doing that

[beatcroc]

there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y

hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]

[buzz-in-your-veins]

Oops, did i do that?

Accidentally sending a spicy pic to your crush.

The reader is more fem dressed and has a vagina in this- if you want a part b where they don’t have outfits just let me know!

CW: Gender Neutral reader with a vagina and fem-like fashion, reader wears bras, no mention of having boobs.

Vox

Vox hadn’t known you for very long, you were one of the newer demons working for him. You’d applied for the job a few months ago.

In that time he’d seen you about four times, but he was honestly thinking of promoting you, you were amazing at your job, good with both the data and the customers, the only thing it seemed you couldn’t do, was look at your contacts.

You weren’t working tomorrow, so you’d gone out with your friends, you’d purposefully gone to one of the only clubs in the pride ring that wasn’t owned by a member of the V’s, in an effort not to run into your new boss.

You’d gone all out tonight, spurred on by your friends, see, you had a minor crush on the TV demon, not that you’d ever entertain it. However, your friends had picked your outfit tonight, and you ended up in a gorgeous (if a bit slutty) royal blue dress, sleeveless and short, with a glittery tulle overlay, and some beautiful electric red heels.

You were messing on with your friends in the bathroom, taking photos and just genuinely having fun, already beyond tipsy now. You were sending a photo of you and another friend in the mirror to your group chat, your friend had taken the time you were fixing your hair to add Vox onto the ‘send to’ people, you never noticed.

You also didn’t notice your phone go off when Vox opened it.

If only that was the worst part.

You finished the night absolutely trashed, your friends working together to walk one another home, most living near one another. You, of course, were the odd on out, and the odd number.

You assured your friends it was fine, you lived in VVV tower for Lucifers sake, you’d be fine! Your friends wouldn’t hear it.

One of your friends, less drunk, had messaged one of Velvettes models, whom she used to work with and asked for them to walk you back.

You got back safe and sound, still not having realised you’d sent Vox the bathroom photo, or seeing the demon’s expression as Velvettes model walked you in.

You weren’t quite tired enough to sleep when you were dropped back in your room, so you messed on on your phone for a bit, before undressing. You hadn’t got to taking your make up off or undoing your hair, you’d gotten your dress off, and just.. stopped.

You were in an ethereal lingerie set, clearly made with Vox in mind.

Pretty blue panties hugged your hips, red electric bolts providing straps, the lace comfortable against your pussy, your chest coved with a light blue bralette, lace spilling against your skin, and the most beautiful glitch effect chain snug around your belly.

You matched this with a black thin choker with a hanging blue electric bolt, and posed against your bed, taking a few photos, changing poses and taking more.

Your favourite was one where you were laid flat, the photo taken from above, you could see your entire body, including the heels you still hadn’t taken off, and you were stairing straight at the camera with your painted lips parted.

Satisfied you went to save your photo.

Never noticing you’d sent the same photo to your boss.

Afterall, you hadn’t know to take him off your list.

You were cuddled up asleep, still in the underwear, when Vox opened your photo.

You never noticed the power surge then go out, nor did you notice Vox’s name pop up on your phone.

Angel Dust

Angel had seen you around the hotel more than usual, Charlie said you’d recently quit your job to work for someone else, and it gave you more free time and flexibility.

Angel was happy for you, your boss had been a real price of work.

Still riding the high off getting a better job, you’d invited your friends out clubbing, having received a handsome final salary.

You had chosen to go to Hyper-Tech, one of Vox’s clubs, and one of the best. They had some off the greatest drinks, and, unbeknownst to you, that night they also had Angel Dust dancing.

You friends teased you relentlessly about your crush on the porn star already, and they played this off as purposeful on your part, even though you’d had no idea.

You had started the night feeling confident and pretty in your oulfit, but seeing the spider you felt a flash of self consciousness, after all, your outfit was styled on the spiders own colour theme, an off the shoulder soft pink velvet crop-top, above-knee white loose pleated skirt, and pastel pink heels with a hot pink belt and nail polish.

You friends quickly took care of that, telling you how wonderful you looked, that anyone would be lucky to see you.

And getting you drunk definitely helped, the endless stream of cocktails bought with your money, and eventually dipping into your friends supplies brought on a happy buzz.

They also greatly diminished your ability to think critically.

You never saw how Angel Dust watched you the entire time you were in the club, as you progressively got drunker, to the point Angel was shocked you could still stand, never mind walk.

Your friends however, saw how the renowned demon was watching you with concern and admiration.

They quickly concocted a plan without your input.

Angels set finished around 2 in the morning, he waited in his dressing room for you to leave.

You had planed to walk home with your friends before splitting off to the hotel, but one of your friends changed the plan, stating there was no need for you to walk them home, after all, didn’t you like live in the complete opposite direction? Another friend had ‘needed the bathroom’ and had walked right by Angels door, talking about how you were leaving with the third friend.

As you were arguing about the principle of walking your friends home, Angel Dust came out of club, and said he didn’t mind walking you home, you lived together anyway.

Your friends quickly agreed and left, not allowing you to argue.

The whole walk back you were showered with compliments about your outfit, your dancing, your hair, your ability to drink, everything.

Angel walked you all the way to your room before leaving you.

You started to undress, but decided you wanted a photo for this occasion.

In your underwear, a pretty pale pink push-up bra, and a silky white thong, still in the hot pink heels, you took a photo in the mirror, sat on your knees staring in the mirror.

For some reason, you decided to send that to yourself instead of just saving to camera roll.

Only, you never send it to yourself. After the walk home, Angel had messaged you to sleep well, meaning he was your top contact.

Never thinking to check, you simply threw on a pale pink baby doll, took your heels and make up off, and went to bed.

Alastor

Alastor showing up to help at the hotel had never been in your plan.

The radio demon was always an unobtainable shadow, someone you could safely crush on from your own mind, because he would never be in your reach.

Except..

Now he was.

Now not to be foolish, you had figured from his interactions and reactions that Alastor was most likely somewhere on the Ace or Aro spectrum, and you would never push anything onto him.

But you could never even get close enough to talk to him, never mind ask about the possibility of him being on the spectrum.

So you hid. Everytime Alastor was around, you weren’t.

Alastor was cooking? You weren’t hungry. Al was helping with the daily running? You had work. Alastor was in the library? You didn’t want to read anyways.

Alastor always noticed your absence.

Instead you poured over everything and anything about the radio demon.

When he appeared, what he did, where he could have been in the seven years, his rise to power, his ability’s, his domain, everything.

Your crush on the radio demon was a foolish one, but that didn’t stop you from having it.

From dreaming of picnics and ice cream dates, of long walks down the streets of hell, to him taking you apart with his words alone, voice wrapping around you.

And when he stopped those muggers?

You went weak.

So, yea, your crush was unobtainable, in the highest scene.

You could still dress up though.

And you did, frequently.

In pantsuits of dark crimson, to the bloody scarlet ball gown, for the party.

Alastors eyes never left you that night.

Mostly, it was under your clothes.

Pretty crimson baby dolls. Black lacy thongs. Scarlett bralettes. Everything. Your camera roll was full of photos of yourself in the underwear, posing this way and that, full of imagination and hopes you would never act on.

Oh how you’d positively die if anyone saw.

That didn’t stop you.

Right now you were dressed in a darling crimson corset, embroidered with darker lace, tied tight, paired with dark scarlet panties, pussy damp against the lace as you lost yourself slightly in a fantasy, black heels and a black necklace, you had posed side on to the camera, staring straight ahead, knees folded underneath you and head tilted slightly up, arms held behind your back.

You heard your shutter go off and stood, getting dressed in a black lace camisole, taking of the corset and heels before heading to bed.

Picking your phone up on the way, you saved the photo to your folder.

Surely, you should have expected naming your folder ‘Alastor<3’ to backfire, but..

Maybe this was a Freudian slip?

It’s not like you even noticed you’d sent it, and you were asleep by the time your phone when off.

Lucifer

You’d seen the King of Hell maybe twice, once in passing, and once when he came to the hotel.

It was more than enough for you to crush on the child-like King, falling in love with his attitude and personality, drawn further in by his looks and kindness.

By the time the charity ball came around, you were completely lost for him.

Lucifer showed up in a white suit, not too different from his normal attire, only more fancy, more Kingly, so to speak.

You had taken Angels advice and dressed to impress.

Angel Dust was the only one who knew about the feelings you had for the fallen angel, and he took every opportunity to tease you for it, but he was also your biggest supporter.

You and Angel had knows each other almost as long as you’d been in hell, so his help was soothing for you, and you smiled as the spider laced up the golden gown you’d picked.

It was a golden off-the-shoulder ball gown, with a soft cover of glittery tulle over the top, the skirt flaring out, reaching the floor, covered in rose embroidered embellishments, and paired with bloody red heels, and a glittering clutch.

Charlie had told you all to go all out, and you and Angel did not disappoint.

The two of you descended together, and you caught site of the King before quickly moving your eyes, your blush almost matching your clutch.

Charlie swanned around you, telling you how amazing you looked, and look at your hair!

Angel got you a flute of champagne before leaving you to find Husk.

Traitors.

You walked around the party, dancing with people here and there, doing your best to avoid looking at the King.

You never saw that his eyes never left your form, or how he glared at everyone who touched you.

The king had tried more than once to get close to you, if not to dance with you, to at least tell you how amazing you looked, but you always seemed to move at just the right time.

Charlie had been snapping photos of you the whole night, sending them to her dad, even she saw the two of you pining for one another.

Your flute was never empty, and unfortunately for you, Angel could always recognise when you were about to bolt, and he and Husk would step in to talk to you and prevent it.

Did you mention traitors?

By the time you were finally able to leave, you were definitely tipsy, clutching Angels arm as the two of you ascended the stairs, congratulating yourself on managing to avoid the King.

Angel saw the way Lucifer was watching you, but you didn’t.

By the time you were in your room and Angel had left after unlacimg your dress, ‘we went all blessed with long arms, A——y!’, you wanted a special photo.

So you got ready.

You kept your heels on and striped to your underwear, a strapless golden bra with a red bow in the center, trimmed in lace, and panties to match, also trimmed in lace. You kept the sparkly fishnets on too, and your makeup on, before finiding a pose you liked.

Finally settling on a pose wherein you were laid on your back, your knees up and tilted slightly to the side, one hand on your breast, the other just above your head, and your face tilted towards your phone, positioned slightly higher than you, and just above your head.

You smiled at the photo, and went to save it.

You never looked.

Lucifer had got your number of Charlie to tell you how nice you’d looked. Your response?

A photo.

You were asleep by the time Lucifers own response came in.

Husk

Husk hadn’t taken much notice of you at first, only that you seemed to come and go with Angel, Husk later learned you were Angels shadow so to speak, Valentino payed you prettily just to follow and protect the star.

Husk noticed you more as you came out more without Angel, not being needed as often when you were in the hotel.

You and the barcat had had some quite good conversations, and some even better discussions.

You knew your way around cards that was for sure, and the cat loved talking with you about card tricks.

Sure no one could match him in card tricks, but hearing you talk about them? Something just felt different.

Husk worried about you and Angel a lot, especially when you both came back late, Angel looking trashed, and you looking slightly high on those nights. It took Husk months to realise Valentino was drugging you both, more so Angel. On those nights, Husk would stay up late to make sure you and Angel ate and drank before going to bed.

Husk never brought it up, and Angel didn’t remember, so you never spoke about it. If the cat didn’t want to bring it up why should you?

Husk did notice his favourite snack appearing on the bar in the mornings however.

Your crush on the cat had started before you even began talking to him, but those conversations, the way he treated you, how he never made you seem unimportant, the way he looked after you and Angel after Val had been upset?

You were gone.

And the cat was your new home.

Not that you’d ever tell him of course, you would never risk ruining such a wonderful friendship like that.

Of course, there were also nights like these. When Val needed Angel for publicity, those were the best. You both got to dress up and basically just party, no forced drugs or alcohol, just fun.

You’d dressed in an orange one-shoulder skin-tight slip dress, with a split up-to your thigh, paired with glittery purple heels, a clutch and jewellery, with black card themed earrings.

Husk had seen you just before you got into Vox’s limo and dropped his bottle of cheap alcohol, sending Niffty into a cleaning/laughing fit.

You and Angel didn’t get back until 1 in the morning, both of you slightly buzzed, but pretty much sober, not having been forced to fed any drugs and having eaten at the gala.

Husk had tried to stay up.

You feel deeper when you realised the barcat was asleep at his post because he was waiting for you. Sending Angel to bed, you walked over to the barcat and gently shook him awake, telling him he could go to bed.

From here Husk noticed the earrings, and flushed, jolting backwards and falling.

You giggled a little before apologising for startling him, which he waved off.

He headed to bed and you got back to your room. Taking your dress off you caught sight of your self in the mirror.

Pretty orange panties with a tiny club embroidered in at the side, deep orange plunge bra with a spade on the left cup, purple bracelet, necklace, and shoes, pretty orange make-up, and a heart and diamond earring set.

You needed a photo.

Fussing around a bit you finally settled on a pose with you laying slightly over the end of the bed, head and chest tilted down, knees pulled up to the side, camera angled too capture everything, arms by your head, and full body on display.

You changed into some sleep clothes after the photos, and in your sleepy state sent them to Husk, instead of simply saving them.

You didn’t wake up until well after Husk responded.

Lute.

Lute had noticed you as soon as you’d joined Adam’s ranks.

Of course she had.

You were the prettiest exterminator Lute had had the pleasure of seeing.

She pestered Adam until he agreed Lute could have her own assistant.

That of course, was you.

Lute loved having you work with her.

Yes all your conversations were about work, and you treat her like your boss, not a colleague, but it wa a better than when you weren’t talking at all.

You were still reeling from the change in position so fast, and now having to deal with the angel you were crushing on at all hours of the day?

Your poor heart couldn’t deal.

You were a blushing mess under your mask every time Lute spoke to you, praising yourself every time you got through an answer without stumbling or stuttering on the words.

Your friends were relentless with the teasing, going as far as to create hand signals to tease you even on the training fields.

Regardless you excelled.

You had to be the best.

And so you were.

Lute often asks what fuels you, and you always stumbled through a bullshit answer, never remembering what you’d said before.

You never gave her the same answer.

You couldn’t exactly tell your now boss the reason you did so well was so she would notice you, could you?

Shadowing Lute meant shadowing Adam. He usually left you alone for the most part though.

It meant going to fancy angel party’s. With out your mask.

You forced your friends to help you get ready.

Gorgeous black knee length dress, clinched at the waist, with silvery heels, a silver necklace, a silver clutch, and purple earrings, your hair done all nice and make up to compliment the outfit.

Your friends told you you looked stunning, and when Lute saw you, she had to agree.

You spent the entire party following Lute around, you didn’t know any of the people here and you were anxious.

Lute kept your champagne topped up, eventually switching you to something a little harder when it became clear you wouldn’t settle on the sparkling liquid alone, not used to the alcohol you got drunk fast.

Adam allowed Lute to leave early, so she could take you home.

Lute got you in safely and even placed an aspirin and water on your bedside table, before leaving you, messaging your phone to let you know what’s happened.

Meanwhile, you’d striped down to a gray lacy bralette, with matching high waisted panties, pretty silver heels, make-up still on and earrings still in.

You wanted a photo.

You set your phone up, and posed, on you knees on your bed, heels just visible, leaned back slightly, one hand behind your bed in a stretch and one on the bed, eyes looking just beyond the camaraderie.

Happy with the results, you went to save the picture, instead, sending it to Lute, who opened it as soon as she got home.

Bye the time Lute replied, you were curled up ontop of your covers, heels still on, sleeping deeply.

Feedback is always appreciated <3

If you want more people added feel free to ask and I’ll do a part two!

Comments are my high.

They make me write faster.

~Vyrus

[zgvlt]

launch our love jade leech x reader

summary: You and Jade send out your wedding invitations. (Almost) nobody knew you two were dating in the first place

author's note: written for a discord server event! bc june is wedding szn. and also because i realized i needed more silly (and domestic) jade in my life. this is sillier than most of my writings bc i wrote it to destress from my finals hehe

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, established relationship, marriage, weddings, some cursing, 6.7k+ words, not beta read

you can also read this on AO3

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM (CAUSED BY YOU AND JADE)

“Jade, you’re smiling. Is something funny?”

“Aren’t I always smiling, my dear?”

“Not always, not with your teeth.” So you said, but weren’t you the one baring your teeth at him right now? “You’re amused by something. Care to share?”

Maybe Jade didn’t seem like the type, but he loved jokes—stupid jokes, and even funny things that weren’t actually jokes. He just liked being able to laugh at something, someone, and oh, he was going to have the biggest laugh of his twenty something years of life—both on land and in sea. 

In fact, he might have been laughing right now just at the very thought of the situation.

“Perhaps I’m just happy?” he mused, knowing for certain that you didn’t buy it. You knew him too well, for too long—sometimes he still found himself thinking just how odd it was for the two of you to have gotten so close, but it certainly made things more interesting, didn’t it? It would be difficult to imagine how he’d be living his life now if you weren’t by his side. “You bring me happiness. Is that so unbelievable?”

“No, but isn’t it weird that years ago I would have thought your words were some ploy to tease me, or make fun of my feelings for you?” you said, a laugh escaping your lips. “I can’t believe I fell for you first. So cringe of me, honestly.”

“Yes, but I had been the one to ask you out first,” he reminded you, clicking his tongue in the process, “really, you made your feelings so obvious but you simply wouldn’t do anything. Did you ever feel bad for me, poor Jade Leech who knew nothing about human romance customs, having to do all the hard work in courting you?”

“Yes, and in my pity I stayed with you for eight years,” you deadpanned, clearly enjoying the joke as much as he was. That was something about you he’d always loved—you always got a chuckle out of him, not merely from your words, but even your mannerisms and willingness to just go along with whatever he was saying, inserting your own quips as well. “And will continue to for even more years than that.”

“My love is so gracious,” he praised, clearly teasing but voice laced with unmistakable affection, “if this is what it feels to be pitied by you, then I’ll simply have to have your pity all to myself, hmm?”

“You…” 

Jade really couldn’t help himself then, laughing as you were torn between letting him know he was being infuriating, or saying something terribly sappy yourself.

“I still don’t believe you, by the way,” you said, returning back to the original topic of conversation, “but I think I know why you’re so excited now. It has to do with the invites we sent out earlier this morning, doesn’t it?”

“Heheh. I might be losing my touch if it’s that obvious,” he replied, both of you knowing it had more to do with you than him. 

The invites. They were pretty things—pearl white envelopes with intricate calligraphy at the very center, something formal to fit both Jade’s disposition and the event, but the design of the letter inside clearly had your touch. He actually still had a few unsent ones himself, ones he would deliver himself once he returned to the Coral Sea.

Save the best for last, of course.

“You think any of them would have gotten it by now?” He responded to your question with a smile that showed his teeth, he was certain of it this time. Oh, he was more than sure at least one person would have gotten it, received by the ones that lived closer, already opened by the ones a little less busier, and he was elated in anticipation of their responses. “Judging by the look on your face, that’s a yes. Should I mute my phone?”

“Absolutely not,” he replied immediately, and then added for good measure, “additionally, could you make sure every call is on speaker phone?”

As though simply waiting for his cue, your phone began to ring, and Jade had no doubts someone had already read the invite and was more than ready to make a complaint, or ask for an explanation, or both.

“Is it–” he looked over your shoulder to read the caller ID– “ah, I was wondering which one of the two. Go on and answer. I’ll just be here, listening attentively.”

“Fine, fine, but get ready. Once this call ends we’re clearly going to get them non-stop, either from your phone or mine.” You took a deep breath, as if to prepare yourself for your impending doom, before pressing the answer button.

THE CALL WHERE HIS SIGNIFICANT OTHER GETS CURSED AT (AND HE LETS IT HAPPEN)

“You fucking fuck,” Ace said, slowly and almost threateningly, and Jade almost let out a huff of laughter at that alone. Only almost, for he had wanted to stay silent for a little longer just to hear what either one of you would talk about. “I raised and looked after you for over three years–”

“Now who’s doing the raising in the group, you say? If not me, it’s obviously–”

“Shut up! I need to tell you how disappointedI am!”

Jade threw you a look and you only shrugged. Ace always seemed like the annoying older brother type of friend, but was he actually some secret mother hen type? He always pictured that role for… essentially every other close friend you had, but he supposed distance could bring the fretting out of anyone.

“As I was saying, you know how much I L-word you, you little shit, but what is this behavior? Is this how you repay me?” On second thought, this was annoying older brother behavior. “How could you do this to your best friend—no, absolutely no oh, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, Sebek, is my blah blah now! Betrayal! One second I have Jade’s contact name renamed to your TOTGA, next second you’re getting married to him?”

At Ace’s exclamation Jade allowed himself to unstifle his laughter, slapping his thigh with the free hand, the one not attached to the arm that was draped around your own laughter-induced quivering shoulders.

“TOTGA?”

“The One That Got Away. Coined by Cater, but Ace found it too funny so it stuck as an inside joke about… well, obviously about you,” you explained, near groaning at the reminder, “basically, Ace thinks you were incapable of returning my feelings.”

“Hey, I never said that! I just said you were too much of a wuss to actually do anything. You cried when he became a fourth year, remember? Ace… I want to see Jade, huhu. I’m so sadddd, wah wah wah, wah, wah.”

“What a subpar impersonation. I wish I was there to witness it myself.” It was a little hard to shake off the image in his head once Ace got it in there—he hated seeing you upset of course, but you crying because you missed him? That would have certainly been a cute sight. He wondered if Ace or one of your other friends had managed to have that, or any other similar event, recorded on video. 

He’s not quite Azul but he’s made his fair share of deals, too.

“And for your information, Ace, you might like to know that it was I who made the first move, so you would be right about your assumptions.”

“Thank you for your service. My dear friend would have stayed single, still living in the college, doing nothing but taking care of Grim until the ripe old age of a hundred and one otherwise,” Ace might have sounded like he had significantly calmed down, but you seemed to know better. 

Ace was never particular about the respect for seniority, and while some parts of him had already matured, according to you that is, some parts were bound to stay the same. 

“But also, I just know you’re part of the reason why I never found out the two of you got in a relationship in the first place! So what was the reason? A prank?”

“Of course not. What kind of man would have a joke run for as long as eight years?” Jade said, pretending he wasn’t that type of man. Honestly speaking, he really never intended it to be secret or anything. Azul and Floyd knew because it was impossible to hide things from either one—the latter being his brother, the other being your supplier of potions in your earlier years of visiting him and his family.

It just so happened that with a strange set of circumstances it would appear you never got the chance to tell anyone, he was too private a person to share the more intimate details of his life, and the two of you decided to just stick with it for as long as either one of you didn’t get caught.

“Okay, fine, I know why Jade wouldn’t say anything… but you, don’t think I have forgotten about you. Actually, shit, I’m tired of shouting. Give me a sec.”

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Giving the phone to our favorite Deucey-Weucey. Nice going with the invites by the way—flying envelope followed me around in the middle of the street until I opened it. I thought my unpaid taxes were haunting me!”

Ah, yes, the wonderful flying tracker envelopes. Jade had paid good money for those—for convenience, else it would have been too difficult sending formal, non-digital invites to everyone all across the land, but he would not deny that the idea of an envelope hunting and chasing down your mutual friends was fun to imagine. 

“You were shouting that loud in public? Also… are you joking? Ace, pay your taxes?”

“Pass. Oh, and don’t tell Deuce I said that, by the way. He’s freaking out more than me—he’s been spamming me with texts because I got to call you first—and we don’t need the policeman to freak out even more because of my inability to be a law-abiding citizen. He just finished his shift, too! … Yo, Deuce! Guess who I’m on the phone with—Oi! At least ask before–”

“First of all, congratulations,” a different voice came out of the phone speaker this time, a little gentler and kinder but clearly holding back. Ah, Jade thought to himself, here was the other one he was waiting on for your end.  “Bet you Ace didn’t even say that, right?”

“He didn’t,” the two of you replied at the same time, much to the chagrin of the voice whining at an audible distance.

“Oh, hello,” Deuce greeted, oddly politely, “you don’t mind if I shout at your spouse-to-be, right? I’ve been holding back from doing so for about twenty or so minutes now.”

Well, Jade always liked politeness. Why, it reminded him of himself, after all.

“Fufu… go for it,” he said, but honestly you could have been the one to agree to it yourself with the way you readied yourself by pushing the phone slightly further away than when you were talking to Ace. Interesting reaction.

“You can cover your ears, I just need to get this out of my system… WHAT THE HELL? THIS IS WORSE THAN ANY OF ACE’S PRANKS!” Jade had to wonder if that was more compliment or insult. Deuce was less harsh than Ace with his wording, but the tone of voice was more intimidating, a little delinquent-like. You seemed used to it, though, maybe even a little fond and reminiscent.

“We kept comforting you because we… okay fine, Ace, shut up, because I thought you kept getting rejected, but not only have you been together all this time, the two of you are getting married? Also meaning, time had passed since you proposed… or Jade proposed to you?”

“Actually,” Ace interjected, loud enough to be picked up by the microphone, “since when did the two of you get together? This is very important by the way, please answer correctly.”

“Answering correctly… ah, I see what’s going on here,” Jade replied with an amused laugh, “I hope you got the right answer, then. The last week of my third year, so before the summer of yours.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before the two of them began making a ruckus once more.

“Fucking Ortho?! Out of all of us, Ortho gets it right?” Ace bemoaned, “The way we dissed him too for guessing incorrectly. Of course he knew without actually knowing. I mean thank the Seven it wasn’t Sebek or Jack or I would never let myself live it down, and if it was Epel he would never let us live it down, but wow.”

“They made me bet as well, by the way,” you told Jade, “betting on my own love life… or lack of, at the time.”

“And you got it wrong?” he snickered, always happy for something new to tease you about. “Please do tell, when did you think we would get together?”

“Uh… I don’t remember?”

“Never. You said the two of you were never, ever, ever, getting together,” Deuce reminded you, pretending to simply be helpful even though it was obvious he was attempting to get back at you one way or another. Well, it was helpful to Jade, at least. He’s not surprised by the answer, it would have been rather typical considering your mindset back then, but your reaction right now was very adorable. 

He had no plans of teasing you about it at this very moment, but he stored that information for another time.

“Wait, I just realized something. You were also crying to us that time, so then… you were crying because–”

“Oh,” you sounded a little bashful, “it was because I thought we wouldn’t be together because… you know, Jade would be out there in some mountain, probably without phone reception, and I would be stuck in NRC, so…”

“...so you didn’t think you two were actually in a relationship,” your statement was finished for you by Deuce, who sounded, and probably looked, exasperated, “and then you two actually were, but you were either still sad about the distance or too embarrassed to tell us you were mistaken that you never told us.”

“Yeah, something like that, and also I kept getting teased about it so as payback I kept holding off telling all of you, until…”

“Until you literally forgot to ever tell us,” Ace groaned, “shit, that’s one long grudge.”

Well, Jade might have had some part to do with you not talking about it after your third year. He was the one who convinced you it’d be fun to let them figure it out for themselves. If they weren’t able to tell while they still got to see you every day, how much harder would it be for them once you all went your separate ways all over Twisted Wonderland?

“Okay, maybe deserved on our end, but I don’t want to take responsibility so fuck you… oh, and congratulations to both of you lovebirds… er, fish?”

THE CALL WHERE HE MESSES WITH SOMEONE (AS USUAL)

You were still in the middle of your call with Ace and Deuce, voice call turned video call as the three of you planned a pre-wedding meet-up with the rest of your friend circle for the purpose of deciding who your best man would be (thankfully not a problem he has to deal with, considering Floyd was the only real choice), when he received a call on his phone.

“Who is it?” you asked, breaking away from the conversation for a few seconds.

“Trey,” he replied, quite normally if he would say so himself, although you must have known better based on the way you were looking at him.

“Don’t stress him out too much, Jade.” He agreed, although he certainly didn’t promise anything. If he was being honest, one of the calls he was anticipating getting was from the bakers’ son. Perhaps because it was interesting seeing the seemingly ordinary people break out of their restraints and say something funny. 

“Say hi to Trey for me! Or tell him to call me… not any time for the rest of the day or night, if I’m being honest.”

With that he slinked away from the bedroom to the living room, letting himself relax atop the sofa as he answered the call. 

“You know, Jade, most people send in their order forms online these days. Or in person, if they want a taste test first.”

“Oh, do you not want to comment on the invite first? The RSVP is included in the envelope, but you could let me know right now. How many guests do you intend on bringing? You could always bring your siblings—given my being a twin, I’ve always been fond–”

“Jade,” Trey interrupted, already sounding exasperated, “am I really a guest when you’re asking me to make your wedding cake?”

“And the wedding favor pastries as well, if you don’t mind,” Jade supplied, smiling to himself. Good, Trey was reacting exactly how he wanted him to. Sure, he did not doubt the man probably had some degree of surprise regarding his relationship status, but that seemed to be a second thought in the dread of dealing with what would presumably be at least a medium sized order. 

“We would appreciate your suggestions as well. Which do you think would be better: cupcakes, quite overused but popular for a reason; small cakes, so we don’t have to go through the hassle of giving away slices of the wedding cake; or something a little less fancy, like cookies or brownies?

“Also, what do you think about the cake itself? How many tiers are the norm for wedding cakes? Why is it that most people go for height when you can go for width and length? What do you think about including mushrooms–”

“Jade, absolutely not. We can add the fake sugary ones if you want, but no real mushrooms,” Trey sounded somewhere in between flabbergasted and disgusted at the suggestion. Now, wasn’t it obvious he was just joking? He wasn’t really going to insist on adding mushrooms in the cake… unless it was actually an unfounded good combination?

“Also, for the love of the Queen, please just go to the bakery for a taste test… ugh, I can’t believe you’re getting married before me. What in Wonderland…”

“Really makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” And because Jade was secure with his sense of humor, he laughed at his own joke. What Jade would give to be able to see the look on his face right now, curious about what sort of face he must have pulled in that dead silence of five seconds. “Oh, and I just thought of something… what do you think about mushroom shaped biscuits as wedding favors?”

THE CALL WHERE YOU GET A PART-TIME WEDDING PLANNER (BUT WHO DOESN’T LOVE FREEBIES?)

You had received a few more calls last night, mostly quick congratulations paired with a “but… have you always been together with Jade? Somehow, I always thought…” 

Those people never pried too much, likely to save themselves from the potential embarrassment of having forgotten such an important detail about a friend, maybe preferring to ask someone else about the details. None of them were too interesting so Jade didn’t mind much. 

The real fun continued the very next day. The intended guests seemed to have enough decency to not call past midnight, although he did spot a few 3 a.m. text messages sent to some group chat you happened to be in, so the night was relatively peaceful. Someone, however, seemed to be a particularly early riser, dragging the both of you with him with one notification.

Not a call, just a notification that somehow jolted you awake, your sudden movement waking him as well.

“What–”

“I thought it was for work… I panicked.” Despite the fact that it was very much a weekend, it seemed that it was hard to get rid of habits. “Who else just sends sudden calendar invites to unplanned video calls aside from… oh, this makes sense, actually.”

You suddenly got up from bed and Jade, admittedly still a little sleepily, watched as you tried to fix yourself up—slowly walking to the bathroom as you washed your face, even brushing your teeth. That told Jade he would not be expecting you to head back to sleep despite the fact that the sun had likely risen at most about half an hour ago. If it weren’t for the fact that you were just straightening out your rumpled sleepwear, he would have thought you had planned on going out.

“Already so energetic in the morning,” Jade commented. For a busy man like him, he quite liked getting to sleep in whenever he could with his beloved at his side, but he was just as content watching you in the early hours of the day. Seeing you go about your morning, yes, but more so waking up in the same room as you, something that would become more common once the two of you got married.

He had always missed mornings with you whenever he was under the sea instead of by your side.

“Jade, do I look presentable?” you suddenly asked, plopping back down on the bed, lowering your head to lock eyes with him. He’s not quite sure what you’re expecting out of him considering the biased lens he views you in.

“You know my heart is aflutter whenever I see you,” he answered, not dishonest in the slightest but always worded in a way he knew you would like, “my darling is as beautiful as usual, brilliant and timeless like the most precious pearl.”

“And that’s not what I was asking. Presentable is different from beautiful.” Still, you looked appreciative of his praise, allowing yourself to accept it instead of turning it down, and really, that’s the reception Jade likes the most from you. “Oh well. Vil will probably understand anyway.”

Oh? He knew you and Vil kept in touch even after his graduation, but among his list of people who he thought would contact you next, he had not considered someone as busy as Vil Schoenheit to be next. Not that he had any plans of going back to sleep when you were already awake, but now he was more enthused to listen in—intrigued in all matters that had to do with you, and he supposed because it had to do with him, as well.

He doesn’t even have to tell you—you put it on speaker immediately.

“You know, most people these days try to soft launch their relationships on MagiCam, but you did not even do a normal hard launch, no, you went all the way with a wedding announcement. Do you think yourself a celebrity with this kind of secrecy?”

“Ahaha, well–”

“Oh, and before I forget, I’ll be sending you my work schedule. We can’t have you looking like a potato on your wedding day, can we? Do you already have something to wear? If not, I can introduce you to some designers, no need to worry I still remember what styles you like best, and then we can choose which outfit you’ll want to wear best during the ceremony itself, and then the reception—

And we can’t forget about make-up! You–ah, Jade, hello, I just noticed the top of your head peeking near out of frame. I can send you both some palettes that would work best with your skin, the Seven knows I have too much unused make-up from brand deals, and–”

“Vil,” you interrupted suddenly, “not that I don’t appreciate the help, because I do, I mean I haven’t even thought of getting into more comfortable clothes for the reception? But why are you doing so much? Aren’t you busy?”

“I would have to agree. It’s as if you have chosen to take up the task of being our wedding planner.”

“Because it’s bad manners to outdress the newlyweds,” Vil explained, as if it was the simplest thing in the world to understand, “so just this once, the both of you have to look better than me. Understood?”

THE CALL WHERE YOU AND A CROW ARGUE ABOUT WHO WALKS DOWN THE AISLE AS YOUR GUARDIAN (SPOILER: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN TREIN)

Jade took over the kitchen most days, for as long as he had the time for it. Not only was he confident in his skills but he enjoyed the act of cooking just as much as getting to show off his skills for you.

And of course, because there was the thrill of letting slip that there was some special secret ingredient that always left you slightly perturbed or excited. Not that there was any most of the time, he just wanted to see if you would keep buying it, and he would eat up the slightest hesitation before you eventually gave in because A) you trusted him and knew deep down he was either playing with you or added something he knew you liked, or B) you just wanted to eat your meal already.

One of those was more romantic than the other.

Regardless, he was cooking for you because you seemed like you needed the energy. While the both of you agreed on wanting to get married soon—considering the two of you lived together and were as domestic as couples could get to the point that it was as if he was already a married man anyway—you seemed to wonder if there was enough time to plan everything that still needed to be planned. 

“Of course there will be,” he reassured you, momentarily abandoning the meals he had not finished plating to step closer to you, “we still have four months to go, and I’m here to help you, remember?”

“I know, and I love you even more for it.” You don’t waste a single second after he places his hand atop yours, turning your palm over to interlock fingers properly. That’s another thing Jade adores about you—how easily you can confess and show your feelings for him. “A part of me was just hoping wedding planning would be a little easier than it actually is.”

“I’m sure it’s made easier with magic involved,” Jade said with a laugh, “although ceremonies are much simpler under the sea.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that kind of preparation.” You seemed to be experiencing some degree of unease, likely at the thought of something. “More so… people.”

Jade smiled. Close-lipped.

“If there’s anyone being a bother, or being troublesome–”

“Jade, no,” you interrupted quickly, as if suddenly fearing for the lives of several people. “Not like that. I received an email from Professor Crewel a while ago. Apparently our wedding has become a hot topic in the staff room.”

He blinked, pretending to be surprised.

“Oh my, now why would that be?”

You need not answer that question, not when it was so obvious. You had wormed your way into their hearts in the span of four years, perhaps even more considering how often you visited for the sake of Grim, and now they were attached to ex-Ramshackle Prefect, current pseudo-NRC staff. 

(Neither of you were really sure if beast caretaker was a real position considering Crowley had yet to house any beasts beyond Grim, but you liked the allowance and the ability to come and get your cat-not-cat whenever you wanted.)

“I don’t know,” you sighed, legitimately looking a little confused, “but Professor Crewel… he offered to help with the clothes, but I said Vil was already doing that, so instead he said he’d send over some gifts. I mean I expect that on the ceremony day itself, but not months before?”

“May I ask… did you happen to have a favorite professor?” Because it was easy to tell why one of them was buttering you up so suddenly, although he was a tad unsure if it would be for naught. Perhaps you already had someone in mind.

Before you could answer, a song he could not recall having heard before rang out in the room. It was, for a lack of a better term, the type of tune that would be catchy at first until it inevitably became the most annoying sound in existence. Earworm might have been the word for it.

“Ah, Crowley is calling. I forgot that was the ringtone I set for him,” you said, as if that was enough to explain everything. 

It was.

“Headmaster–”

“My child, who has grown up so fast to the point of finally getting married.” You exchanged looks with Jade, and while he was evidently more amused than you, he understood the incoming headache. Crowley himself was the incoming headache. “I would just like to remind you that this most generous, gracious, giving headmaster of yours is also your guardian by law, yes?”

As much of a secretive man the headmaster could be, now was certainly not one of those times, and the realization of what your old professors were up to had dawned on you.

“Professor Crewel’s quite generous as well,” you said, “you know, he offered to buy me a few things for the wedding”. It was as if you were pretending to be deep in thought, when in reality you were baiting the crow into either telling you what he wanted outright, or at least offering you something a stingy man like him normally wouldn’t. 

Then again, Jade was just a little concerned that even if Crowley did get you something, it would come from NRC’s budget. None of his business, but there was the probability of you feeling guilty over that. 

“What, so are you choosing Divus then?”

“Who said I would be choosing Professor Crewel?” 

Truthfully Jade did think that, among the whole staff, Headmaster Crowley or Professor Crewel would have been the best choices to take the position of your guardian down the aisle, but perhaps that was merely his impression of who would most want to be in that position as opposed to who you would want.

“See, I was just thinking of having Grim stroll down the aisle considering he’s the closest I have to family, but Jade and I have been talking about whether he should be a flower boy or the ring bearer.” 

Yes, that much was true, and while a basket would have been heavy he was partial to flower boy simply because it would be funny to watch him throw petals around the beach, accidentally having his paws sink in the sand, but he could not say that or else be accused of bullying your beloved beast by you.

“So since it can’t be Grim… since he looks after Grim when I can’t, I thought Professor Trein–”

“Absolutely not!” You had ruffled the feathers of the headmaster with one utterance of a name, as though you and the senior professor had personally offended him. With how dramatic he used to be, and seemingly still is, it was very likely he felt that way, Jade thought. “Trein has already walked down the aisle for SO many weddings! This is incredibly unfair for the childless like me.”

“Isn’t Professor Crewel in the exact same situation?” 

“No, he has his puppies. That makes him a father. Meanwhile there’s me. I am alone and childless and you are the closest thing I have to a child, will you deprive me of the opportunity to flaunt–ahem, to show my support for the marriage of two very wonderful NRC alumni?”

“Wow,” Jade said, almost in disbelief at such a poor excuse, “that sounded very convincing and not at all falsified. I might ask you to replace my father at this point.”

THE ONE WHERE SOMEONE STRESSES ABOUT HIS WEDDING MORE THAN HIS FAMILY (AND HIM)

Jade had expected that his brother would momentarily make a fuss, that his twin would be filled to the brim with excitement while complaining about how the wedding date was too far and how he should have it sooner. 

He also anticipated his parents' congratulations, their happiness in spite of wanting a ceremony under the sea as well, their wishes that you had visited with him today so that they could spoil you with something extravagant for the occasion.

But Azul? Sure, he had expected some degree of fretting, but the octomer was stressing about the wedding as if he was the one getting married. Dear Sea Witch, if this was how Azul was going to act at being his wedding’s caterer, just how much worse would he fuss if he ever got married?

“You should have told me sooner, Jade!” Azul exclaimed, already grabbing a scroll with one tentacle to jot down estimates—Jade was unsure of the specifics but it figured it must have been the usual: assumed guest count (Azul had not even bothered to ask, somehow he just put a number eerily close to the own estimate you and Jade had in your heads), times and dates, which foods and drinks he’ll likely end up having prepared, even from where best to source ingredients around June, the month of the wedding.

“Ah, Trey’s handling the wedding cake and favors, but not the desserts themselves, so feel free to cancel those two out,” the moray added, stifling a laugh at how cross Azul suddenly looked with him.

“I don’t know if I’m more upset at you going to Trey for that when I’m perfectly capable, or for not telling me before I finished the estimate costing. Do you know how difficult it is to cater for big events?”

“With the amount of experience I’ve had assisting you? Of course I know,” Jade pointed out dryly, “and I know just as well that you are incredibly capable. This is simply a small feat for you, Azul.”

“Most caterers in the industry ask for six to twelve months in leeway preparation time when it comes to reservations.” It was phrased to be informative, but really it sounded like he was being chided. “If you had not come to me, I am certain everyone else would have rejected you. Aren’t you fortunate to have me as a… to have connections to someone as capable as me?”

A part of him still hesitated to call Azul a friend. Perhaps it was a case of old habits dying hard, or just for the sake of either one of their prides, but he would never call Azul a friend to his face. Azul was just Azul, who he and his brother stuck around with since childhood because he was interesting, but–

“And congratulations, Jade. I’m happy for you. Who would have thought you would ever marry,” Azul said, smirking and yet refusing to lock eyes with him. Jade thought he might have been a little teary-eyed, but it was harder to tell underwater. Even if he was sure, he had no plans of making fun of Azul for it, just this once.

Just this once, he might admit to himself that Azul was a friend.

THE ONE WHERE HE SURPRISES EVERYONE ONE LAST TIME (BUT IS THERE EVER REALLY A LAST TIME?)

Jade has long prepared for his speech, has it memorized down to the very last word. Even if he hadn’t, it would be relatively easy to say everything on the spot—discuss how he fell for you, the story of how you two got together, the love he did and does and forever will have for you, and of course, how the two of you managed to keep everything a secret until recently. Still, he prepared for it, mostly because he had one last surprise saved for the very end. 

You’re a little teary-eyed near the end, what people thought was the end, of his speech; he thinks he can spot his father crying as well, and he wonders if that’ll stop or worsen by the time he has to give out his speech. Azul’s there, nodding his head in approval and clapping as if he had just finished giving a business presentation instead, while Floyd is cheering and hollering and amazingly, his tie has yet to be fully discarded.

On your end of guests, he can spot a few of your friends be mildly surprised from witnessing how heartwarming he could be when he felt like showing it; Malleus Draconia simply radiating joy from being present, still really odd to know his significant other was friends with a future King; Leona, placed at the table farthest from Malleus’, not looking particularly enthused, almost as if he hadn’t brought an expensive gift in hopes of one-upping his fellow prince (although he was certain Kalim had one-upped them both on accident).

The professors were also there, and he had overheard them (rather, Crowley and Crewel, who you eventually decided both got to represent you down the aisle) arguing amongst themselves earlier about who got to dance with you first.

The answer was him, your groom, quite clearly, and perhaps Floyd will want to steal either him or you away for a little bit.

When the clapping ceases he lets out a most bright grin, then again when was he not genuinely smiling and laughing today, before speaking into the microphone once more.

“Once more, I thank all of you for attending this special day. You have all helped make this a memory-filled day… but before I hand the microphone over to my father, I have an announcement to make.” He turned to look at you, still seated beside him and beaming in approval, even throwing a little thumbs up from beneath the table. 

He loved you even more for not only letting him, but encouraging him to have one last hurrah.

“I have heard a lot of complaints regarding how sudden we announced our wedding, or perhaps more appropriate to say our relationship status.” He had received a few chuckles out of that one, but who was Jade if not someone who wanted the last laugh? “We, my beloved and I, understand your complaints, and so we took your feedback, went over it carefully, and decided to do better next time.

“That is to say, you are all invited to our second wedding in the Coral Sea. Same date next year, no dress or tail code this time, fufu…”

He loved it—the commotion it caused, the way his father was weeping a little harder, he did wish for the two of them to have the Coral Sea ceremony; the way Azul was calculating the costs of everything again, now with the included costs of actually having the guests be able to breathe; party animals like his brother, Kalim, and Cater easily anticipating another celebration; Ace, Deuce, and Jack having war flashbacks to what happened the first time they visited the place; and most importantly, your reaction.

You already knew what was coming, but he always loved watching the different expressions bleed into your face, and there was just something about how happy you were at the reminder that you’d get to celebrate your union again, but this time in his culture.

With the microphone safely out of his hands and plopped in front of his father, his lips near your ear. The world may already know, but even then he whispers the words themselves as though they were still a secret—

“I love you.”

“You only love me because chaos always follows me around,” you said, clearly joking. Because he’s him, he returns the favor.

“Oh yes, because I stayed in this relationship for over eight years for a joke. I pity you, my dear.”

“Mhmm, if this is what it feels to be pitied by you, I can’t wait to experience it for the rest of our lives.” He’s unsure of who laughed first, but what does it matter, really? 

A few of your fingers slipped underneath his gloved hand, idly writing something against his skin that warmed his heart—your new initials. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back, and he smiled because he knew. Beneath the politeness and the jokes, the truth was not something that he had to wrangle out of you, but something easily seen and easily told.

“So… how are we pranking them next?”

masterlist

[yaksha-lover]

Hi! Maybe strange question but you seem to have a good grasp on the boys’ personalities. I’ve been reading a lot of the yanderification of the TWST boys and started wondering which ones (if any) would be most likely to have what could be labeled “yandere” tendencies. Just seems like a fun train of thought to chase.

Do you have any thoughts on this? (Also sorry for the word salad.)

In my opinion, I think it’s pretty easy to twist most of their personalities to fit a yandere type, but as for who’s yandere characterizations are closest to their canon counterparts, I would say:

Malleus, I think is the obvious one. Although clearly I don’t think he’d be yandere in canon, it makes sense for him to have some clingy tendencies in a relationship, and an obsession with his romantic interest. It’s the whole ‘you’re the only person in the world who matters to me’ type trope, because of the social rejection and isolation he’s faced.

People usually take it two ways here, either a) very possessive and jealous or b) very protective. I tend to lean towards the second interpretation (although I love to explore the first one, the second is more canon to me). More ‘I would burn cities to protect you, move heaven and earth to make you happy’ than ‘I want to keep you locked up here all to myself, you belong to me.’ So yes, a yandere Malleus may kidnap you, but only to keep you ‘safe.’ He’s also not as emotionally immature as I think he’s sometimes characterized as (although I’m probably also guilty of this). He’s not really the type to force someone to love him, imo, because he wants it to be genuine (his insecurity stems from an inability to be accepted so forcing it wouldn’t truly fulfill that desire to be loved and validated).

Rook, I think also makes sense, but it’s hard to say because most of the time a lot of his characterization is just played for jokes. Like the whole ‘he’s a stalker, he knows a lot about everyone, others get unnerved by him, etc.’ It’s meant to be funny, but if we take it seriously then we could probably jump to some interesting conclusions about Rook. Also, combined with that ghost bride line about him ‘never letting his beloved go’ -

He seems the type to get fixated on some object of beauty, and I could see that developing into a yandere-like obsession. Maybe if he finally finds the one thing - or person - who he thinks is the true pinnacle of art and beauty, what he’s been searching for all along. Initial stalking to learn more about his interest, some uncomfortable attempts at closeness because he knows everything about them and they know nothing about him. Divided between showing his beloved off to the world and keeping them all nice and pretty for his own enjoyment - the only one who can truly appreciate their beauty. Also, once he’s felt the experience of love, I doubt he’d ever want to live without it. Maybe that’s the ‘true’ beauty of life to him, even.

Jamil is just so apathetic that if he ever did fall for someone, I can’t see him ever giving them up if he can help it. Also, we’ve seen in canon that Jamil isn’t above doing mildly bad things for self-serving interests (think masquerade with ruggie, manipulating the oblivious students).

He just wants something nice and soft for himself. Is that so much to ask for, after all he’s been through? Jamil is never allowed to have anything, nothing that Kalim doesn’t. It’s no wonder he’d cling to the only sweet thing he can get his hands on, something just for him. Even if you’re frustrated with him, even if you get tired of him, he isn’t so willing to just let you go. He deserves something nice like you, and you’ll be happy with him, even if you might need a ‘charming’ reminder of it sometimes.

Lastly, Jade and Floyd are popular yanderes to write for a reason. They both already have so much inexplicably unhinged energy even compared to the rest of the cast (other than maybe Rook). Jade seems so cold and apathetic, while putting on a mask of care. Floyd doesn’t really care to do so, wearing his many moods on his sleeve. But they’re still two sides of the same coin; they’re used to getting whatever they want, often by questionable means.

They also seem like they would be pretty possessive, even if it comes out in different ways. Jade and Floyd may be good at sharing with each other, but they’ve never been good at sharing with anyone else. Floyd will show you (and whoever thinks it’s okay to encroach on his partner) how upset he is by this particular development. I doubt you’d want to keep it up when he threatens your friends that get a little too close. Jade is different; the same annoyance and possessiveness still burns him, but he has a little more patience than Floyd. He isn’t willing to start any fights. Jade prefers not to get his hands dirty, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have other tactics to scare away anyone who tries to flirt with you.

[dyaz-stories]

there was one prize I’d cheat to win || Eddie Munson x Reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings & tags: pretty heavy make out session, they’re in a public place but no one’s there, reader has major insecurities about being inexperienced, general anxious thoughts, references to past shitty treatment by guys, eddie swears a lot.

a/n: big thanks to the people who liked my previous one-shot on Eddie! this one is technically in the same ‘series’ and has the same OC, but they can be read independently. i hope you enjoy it! will i manage to quote the entirety of willow by taylor in the titles of this series? stay tuned to find out

You should have known exactly how this would turn out when Eddie, deadly bored one evening, as you were desperately to get his attention back to the things you were supposed to be tutoring him on, had seemed to jolt back to life, giving you a piercing look.

“What would you do if I got a C on that exam?”

You’d blinked at him.

“What do you mean, what would I do?”

“What would I get? What’s my reward?”

A silence.

“…the satisfaction of knowing you’ve done a good job and a better chance at graduating this year?”

He shook his head, but, to be fair, you knew that would never work on him. There was a somewhat crazed glint in his eyes when they met yours, and, for some reason, you found yourself holding your breath. It was almost embarrassing how strong your reaction was when he looked at you like that, and yet you understood exactly where it came from. When Eddie looked like that, it felt like everything was possible. Like you’d follow him to the end of the world if he asked. It made it so easy to understand why the people in his group had chosen him to be their leader.

“How about a kiss?”

Your eyes went wide at the suggestion.

“What?” you managed to squeak out, and his grin widened at your reaction.

“C’mon, princess. You gotta up the stakes a little here.”

You could feel your cheeks burning, and you resisted the urge to chew on your lower lip at the suggestion.

It’s fine, you told yourself. He’s not being serious, and even if he was, that’s not going to happen.

“B,” you said.

It took him a second to process it before he lifted an eyebrow, amusement already dancing in his eyes, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

“B minus.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “B minus on your next exam and… Whatever. That.”

Maybe the way he leaned back in his chair with this satisfied, shit-eating grin should have alarmed you, but truth be told, you didn’t think anything of it.

Clearly, that had been your mistake, because when he triumphantly walked over to your little corner in the library, isolated and well hidden behind rows of books, and slammed a piece of paper on the table, all you could do was blink. A big red ‘B-‘ was circled at the top.

“The old bat thinks I cheated and she might not count it,” Eddie said, “but that’s the proof right there.”

“That’s—” you grabbed the paper, eyes quickly scanning the answers, recognizing the subject you’d been trying — and failing — to teach him about. “That’s really good,” you admitted. “Well done, Eddie,” you added, shooting him a bright smile.

For a second, all he did was stare, eyes widening a little, and then he cleared his throat, turning around swiftly enough that you couldn’t see the blush creeping on his face, so you were faced with the symbol of some rock band you didn’t know on the back of his jacket.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? I had an incentive.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder, and that was when it dawned on you.

The kiss.

He’d been serious about that?

You felt your heart leap in your throat immediately, heart starting to hammer without a warning at the thought of kissing Eddie. You’d been so, so sure he hadn’t meant it.

“Don’t—” you could feel your voice falling into a whisper. “Don’t make fun of me, Eddie.”

It wasn’t not like it would be the first time a guy’s pretended to show interest only to rub in your face how stupid you were for thinking it was sincere later on.

The surprise on Eddie’s face, if anything, was an indication that that kind of cruelty hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“What? I’m not making fun of— I’m the one who asked! What do you even—”

You took a deep breath, and he watched your demeanor carefully, brow furrowed.

“Hey, you know, it’s fine if you don’t want to—”

“No!” you were quick to protest — a little too quick, and you cursed yourself immediately. What if now he thought you were interested? What if he thought it was weird, or gross? What if your interest made you ridiculous in his eyes? You wished the thoughts wouldn’t plague you, but you simply couldn’t help it. Maybe, if anyone had shown you sincere interest at any point, you wouldn’t have such a hard time with it. “No, it’s, uh— I said I’d do it, right?”

“Right, but you don’t look thrilled about it, so if you want to back out, you know that’d be cool with me, right? I wouldn’t force you to do anything, you know?”

Finally, you relaxed a little, enough to give Eddie a small smile.

“I know, sorry, I’m just— I’m a little nervous.”

He shook his head, raising his hands as if to show you he didn’t mean harm.

“Hey, no problem, I’m not asking you to marry me, you know? It won’t mean anything, it’s just for fun.”

Your heart sank so brutally it might as well have dropped out of your chest. Of course. Of course. Why would it mean anything? Why would you have even entertained that thought?

“No, no, I know,” you protested — too quickly once more, “it’s just I don’t, uh, have a ton of experience? So I’m a little nervous.”

That was an interesting understatement, only technically not a lie, but you were not going to tell him that this was your first kiss. You couldn’t. You knew for a fact you were far from the only person in Hawkins High with no experience, and yet you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of shame over it — couldn’t help but tell yourself that no one had ever found you interesting or attractive enough to pursue you, and that it was on you. The fact that you’d be kissing him over some— bet only added to the embarrassment, and after what he’d just said… Well. You didn’t feel like letting him know was even an option.

Thankfully, Eddie wasn’t privy to all the thoughts that were spinning in your mind, and he just grinned at your admission.

“You don’t have to worry about that, princess. I’m a good enough kisser for the two of us. I promise you’ll enjoy yourself and, well, if I have to sacrifice myself for that, I say that’s a pretty good way to go, wouldn’t you say?”

This time, you couldn’t help but letting out a chuckle. Eddie was good at that, releasing tension with jokes. He seemed to easily feel when the people around him needed a laugh, and he wasn’t afraid to let his pride take a hit if it made them feel better.

That was something you really, really liked about him.

“Fine, so, uh…” You got up from your chair somewhat awkwardly. “Should we…?”

He gasped and faked a pearl-clutching motion.

“In the library? My, that goes against all of my principles!”

It was your turn to give him a grin.

“I mean, if you don’t want to…”

His demeanor shifted instantly, and so did his eyes. The way he took you in, eyes quickly traveling down your body and back up almost made you shiver. Your stomach twisted into a knot, your breath quickened, and you realized that this was actually happening. You were about to kiss Eddie Munson. In the library, of all places, fortunately almost completely empty at this time.

He took a step towards you, and you stood in place, leaning back just a little to rest some of your weight on the table. Eddie didn’t stop until he was standing right against you, and you found yourself gripping the table as a desperate attempt of keeping your heart under control. With how loud it was beating, you had a hard time believing he couldn’t tell.

“Oh, I want to,” he said, one of his hands coming to cup your face. It felt rough and calloused against your skin, but you didn’t mind. You held his gaze at first as he studied you, all too aware of how close his chest was, how his hips were almost against yours. You didn’t dare to touch him, unsure of where your hands should go, where they were supposed to go. After a few seconds, though, you could feel yourself grow heated under his touch, and you were sure he could tell.

Averting your eyes, you mumbled “So, are we doing this, or—”

His mouth was on yours immediately, and you gasped. His hand was still on your cheek, thumb coming under your jaw to tilt your head up, and it was all your mind could focus on. He kissed you slowly, lips moving against yours carefully, but with an underlying eagerness that had his body tense as a bowstring as he tried to hold himself back, tried not to scare you away. He’d promised you you would enjoy this, and he would make sure you would. He wasn’t going to— to fucking pounce on you like an animal, when you’d just told him you were nervous.

No matter how much he wanted to.

You didn’t notice him opening and closing his hand near your waist, resisting the urge to pull you closer.

Your eyes were closed, kissing back almost carefully. His body felt hot against yours, but maybe you were the one heating up, you genuinely couldn’t say. Finally, one of your hands came to rest on his arm, and another one moved higher, fingers hesitantly threading through his long hair. You weren’t sure of what you were doing exactly, but you did know you wanted more of— of this.

He pulled away just a second, allowing the two of you to breathe, and he opened his eyes to get a good look at you.

It turned out that that was a mistake if he wanted to keep behaving himself. Seeing you so close, with your eyes focused on him, lips parted and slightly swollen, panting softly— that was a sight that almost drove him crazy.

He leaned forward again, eagerly, kissing you harder, hand gripping the table with everything he had to keep himself in check.

And then, he felt you moaning softly into his mouth, and that was when he finally lost it.

His hand came to grab your waist, pulling you closer, hips now pressed into yours, chest flushed against you. You were just so fucking soft under him, head tilted up towards him. There was so much he wanted to do to you.

You tried to respond in kind to his energy, fingers pulling on his hair a little as if there was a way for your mouths to get closer. You were pressed against the table, body slowly leaning back, your knees threatening to give in underneath you. Finally, you felt his tongue brushing against yours, and you moaned again, which only seemed to make him more eager.

Your elbow had come to rest on the table and you were half laying on it when he stopped abruptly, body half-covering yours. Another uncontrollable, but fortunately quiet, moan escaped you once more, and Eddie had to do his best both to stop himself and to hold back his own groan. How the fuck was he ever supposed to stop if you sounded like that?

This was just— this was just unfair.

Damn, he should have gotten you to his car before cashing in on that kiss, then he wouldn’t have felt so bad, but you’d been standing there looking like such an angel, and then you’d started teasing, and he just— He hadn’t been able to hold back.

But he definitely wasn’t going to fuck you in the library.

Not that he’d have minded, or that he hadn’t gotten handsy in here before, but he— That wasn’t how he wanted things to go, for his first time with you. Even if the way you were looking at him right now, with your beautiful eyes wide and expectant, pupils dilated, half-laying on the table, made you the most tempting thing he’d ever seen.

Truth be told, it terrified him, how you made him feel. The desire, he could take, he could act on, but he knew he’d crumble the second you’d touch him in any other way.

“E-everything okay?” you asked, worried eyes searching his when he didn’t move, one hand reaching up to touch his cheek.

He was quick to move away, taking that hand in his instead to pull you back on your feet.

“So, what’s your verdict?” he asked with a grin, just as quick to let go of you and to take a step back, the best way to make sure he didn’t do something stupid. “Am I a good kisser or what?”

You hadn’t thought your cheeks could burn even more.

“Um,” you mumbled. “Yes. Good. Was it— Did you, uh, enjoy yourself as well?”

You didn’t manage to read the emotion that passed on his face then, but he swallowed, and then he nodded.

“Yeah, princess. I definitely enjoyed myself.”

The words brought a small smile to your lips that you tried your best to hide. He didn’t add anything, though, and the silence that followed was incredibly awkward.

“So, do you want to work on—”

“It’s going to be weird if I stay,” Eddie interrupted you quickly. “We should just skip the lesson for today.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, right, you’re— you’re probably right about that.”

“But we could do that again later this week.” A silence. “Working together, I mean.”

Why had he said that? He could have just left it hanging, for fuck’s sake, and— He was behaving like a fucking freshman. What the fuck.

“Sure, sure,” you were quick to agree. “So I’ll… see you next time?”

“Right. See you.”

When Eddie fled the scene, you were left wondering what had come over you just minutes ago, and trying to quell the beating of your heart. Your fingers ghosted over your lips, and you found yourself chuckling to yourself without making a sound. You weren’t sure what to make of all of this, but even your anxious mind had to come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t have kissed you like that if he wasn’t at least attracted to you, and that thought was— nice. You could live with that.

If you’d seen the triumphant way Eddie punched the air with his fist when he walked out of the library, it would only barely have added to the little cloud you were sitting on right now.

a/n (bis): thank you so much for reading! i hope you liked this little addition to the ‘series’, it was a lot of fun to write. i don’t know yet when/if i’ll write more, it’ll depend on whether or not i get any ideas, but if you enjoyed it, don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask, reblog or leave a lil comment! they mean the world to us writers and do wonders to keep us writing 😊

[rafedaddy01]

You don’t know who your dealing with (r.c.)

A/n: a little something I’ve been working now, hope you like it 😉

Summary: your parents got a job promotion and you had to move to outerbanks. You were invited to a party and ended up having a hook up with the host not knowing that it would turn into an obsession.

“Already making friends so fast” your mom questioned from the stove where she was making dinner. “Just this girl I met at the beach today. She seemed nice, said her brother was throwing a party and I should come and meet some of her friends” you said trying not to sound too excited. Your parents knew how hard this move has been for you, leaving your old life behind and starting completely over at your age was hard. “Well have fun. And don’t drink too much” your dad said looking up from his newspaper as you waved at them both and walked out the door getting in your car and driving to the address Sarah sent you. “Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it. Come meet some people” she said as you fixed your skirt feeling a little nervous. “This is John B, JJ, pope, and that’s Kiara” she said introducing you to the group sitting in the living room sipping on their drinks. You took a seat next to JJ and he handed you a beer. “Thanks” you said giving him a weak smile. “So what brings a pretty girl like you to obx” JJ questioned. “My parents got a job promotion and we had to move” you said. The rest of the night was filled with conversation has you got to know the group better, you didn’t drink more than the one beer JJ gave you since you still had to drive back home. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom” you said standing up and making your way through the gigantic house. You pushed your way through the crowd and someone shoved you from the back causing you to run into a girl and making her spill her drink all over herself. “What the fuck!” She exclaimed looking down at her ruined outfit. “Im so sorry, it was accident” you apologized. “You ruined my favorite shirt bitch” she said coming into your face. “I said it was an accident, someone pushed me into you im sorry” you snapped back at her. “What’s going on here?” A deep voice said behind you “rafe. This slut spilled her drink on me” the annoying blonde said. “What-” You started to explain yourself but were interrupted by the boy. “I think you should apologize” he said staring between you two. “I already did” you said. “Not you, you” he said pointing to the the blonde. “What? I didn’t do anything” she said annoyed. “I saw what happened Susie, don’t be a cunt. Apologize or leave” he said coming to stand by your side and wrapping his hand around your waist. “Whatever” she said rolling her eyes and pushing past you two. “I’m Rafe. You look new” he said smiling down at you. “I just moved here. Y/n” you said taking a step back, a little uncomfortable from how close he was to you. “You want a drink?” He said raising a brow as he clearly checked you out. You scoffed at his eyes scanning your body “no thanks. Just looking for the bathroom” you said desperately looking around for Sarah. “I can show you” he said taking your hand in his and dragging you up the stairs into his room and locking the door. “You can use the one in my room” he said taking a seat on the bed as you looked at him with a puzzled look. “Wait your Sarah’s brother?” You said feeling a little bit as ease knowing how kind Sarah was, her brother wouldn’t be any different. He nodded at you as he pointed to the bathroom. Once you were done you came out to him still sitting on the bed. “Thanks. And thanks for defending me downstairs” you said taking a seat next to him on the bed. “No worries, Susie’s just a bitch” he said turning his head towards yours. You bit your lip as your eyes connected and he pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second before kissing him back and he pulled you onto his lap. Your fingers ran through his hair tugging at it, causing him to grunt into your mouth. You pulled away to catch your breath and he took the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, sucking at the skin and making you squeak out a moan. He smirked at your sounds and pulled away to look at you. “Why’d you stop” you said squirming as you felt your panties soak with your arousal. He chuckled darkly before speaking “trust me doll, if I fuck you tonight I’ll ruin you for good” you saw his eyes grow dark and your pussy clenched

“What if I want you to fuck me?” You said wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and grinding into his erection. “You don’t know who your dealing with y/n” he said gripping your ass and pulling at the exposed skin from your skirt being scrunched up. “Ah” you moaned. “Show me then” you said. He flipped you over so he was hovering over your body and immediately ripped your skirt off your body making you yelp from his harsh actions. You tried to speak but he rubbed your clit through your panties causing your body to go limp under him every thought washed out your mind. “You asked for this princess” he said pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the ground before positioning himself between your legs and pulling your panties down. He stuffed them into his pocket and positioned your legs on either side of his broad shoulders bringing his tongue down to lick between your folds. You jerked back from the feeling of his warm tongue embracing your juices. “Rafe” you exhaled his name as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He attached his lips around your clit and sucked like it was his only supply of oxygen. He devoured you perfectly. You tried to move your legs closed but his grip was to strong on them. “I’m gonna cum” you managed to get out before he pulled away making you whimper from the denied release. “I told you, you don’t know who your dealing with” he said before giving you your underwear back and grabbing his shirt and walking out the bedroom.

A/n: ah! I don’t know if I should make a part two to this or just leave it as is. Lmk what you guys think 😏

(Not proof read)

Part 2

[lucky-clover-gazette]

Never Kill a Boy on the First Date

2.5K-word Buffy AU Vidow One-Shot, written for @fsfrightfight

“I’m sorry I haven’t brought it up sooner,” Shadow says, insecure in a way Vio rarely sees him. “I thought you, uh, didn’t like me anymore. Since I’m all vampy now.”

Vio’s jaw drops.

“You thought I would like you LESS because you’re a vampire?”

read the rest on ao3 or under the cut:

It’s Vio’s night to patrol the cemetery, fair and square.

Yes, it had been insulting when the others gave him Friday night because they knew he’d have no plans. But it’s not like they’d been wrong—he would have ended up reading no matter what. He might as well do it here, alone, propped up against a headstone and tapping a pencil steadily against the ground.

Someone seems to have missed the memo on the ‘alone’ part, though.

“Viiiiii.”

“Oh my god, what?”

Vio’s head swivels to see a familiar figure lounging theatrically against a headstone. Shadow grins, clearly pleased to have his undivided attention.

“Hi, Vio,” Shadow greets with a lazy wave.

Vio blinks slowly, his eyes adjusting to the distant darkness. “Hi, Shadow.”

“What are you doing out here at this time of night, handsome?”

Vio absolutely does not blush. Not perceptibly, at least, in the semi-light-polluted suburban darkness.

“Annotating,” he says, raising his pencil. “And hunting vampires.”

“At least the second part is cool,” says Shadow. “Seen any yet?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

The vampire gasps in fake-offense as Vio removes another heavy tome from his purple backpack. Shadow eyes it curiously, joining Vio where he sits.

“Ancient texts?” Shadow asks, eyes narrowed in the dark. Vio switches his book light from the novel he’s been marking up for fun to the ‘ancient text’ in question.

“Not quite,” he says with a smirk, revealing the cover to Shadow. “The Once and Future King, chapters fourteen through eighteen.”

Shadow’s nose wrinkles. “Oh, fuck that.”

“If you’re going to loiter here, I might as well help you pass AP Lit.”

“I’m doing just fine on my own, Vio,” Shadow says, rolling his eyes. “I have, like, an 84 overall. That’s almost a B+.”

“You never do the readings.”

“Yet I manage to get good grades anyway. ‘Cuz I’m a fucking genius.”

“You don’t even use SparkNotes!”

“SparkNotes are for cowards. I raw-dog my essays like god intended.”

Vio pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “If I read it out loud,” he groans, “will you listen?”

Shadow immediately pulls out his earbuds, but Vio rips them away. “These are so tangled,” he observes, already working through the knots with nimble fingers. “You’re going to, like, electrocute yourself.”

“Y’know, I think you’re pretty electrocute yourself.”

Vio scowls. Shadow plops down next to him.

“I won’t listen,” he says, oh-so-casually leaning against Vio, “but you can still read.”

Vio nods and begins. And while his mouth says the words on the page, his mind quickly wanders, not not distracted by the feeling of Shadow’s body beside his own.

Did Shadow just call him cute? And handsome? It’s not unusual behavior per se, but it’s still baffling as hell. Shadow can’t possibly want him, not after all the misfortune Vio’s mere existence has brought him.

It had all just happened so fast: their first kiss after the fall formal, the surprise vampire attack, Shadow taking a bite to save Vio, and Vio using his connections as Slayer to leave his newly-undead friend(?)’s soul intact. They’d stepped away from the dance for less thann ten minutes, and as a result Shadow’s life had been changed forever.

They still haven’t really discussed it, beyond the necessary information about Shadow’s new form. As a vampire with a soul, he gets along just fine with the other slayers and the Watcher they all share. He’s a willing ally to their team whenever the Hellmouth sends a monster of the week their way. He’s confided in Vio about the highs and lows of his new existence, and Vio has supported him unflinchingly the entire time.

But there is no way Shadow still has any intimate interest in Vio, beyond the powerful Slayer’s blood he willingly supplies. And while Shadow only drinks from Vio (“You got him turned,” Blue had said, “so it’s your responsibility to keep him alive.”), they have no such bitey plans tonight.

But despite his huffiness, despite the impossibility of the dynamic they’d shared before, Vio is glad that Shadow came to keep him company. Things are calm, things are good, there’s a routine in place and everyone’s on the same page. Vio could almost call it settled completely.

But they still haven’t addressed that goddamn kiss.

“We can talk about it,” Shadow offers, and Vio’s heart stops.

“I—what?”

Shadow’s amused smile speaks for itself.

“Oh my god,” Vio says, placing the book on the ground. “I didn’t.”

He puts his head in his hands. What kind of absolute moron confuses the words he’s reading with the words he’s saying? That’s the kind of bullshit that happens on TV, and he cringes at it every time!

“Hey, no, listen,” Shadow says, losing his previous smugness. He gently grabs Vio’s wrists and lowers them back down to his lap. “Vio, look at me.”

He does. Shadow’s eyes have the same unnatural glow present with every vampire he slays, which for the record is a lot of vampires.

“I’m sorry I haven’t brought it up sooner,” Shadow says, insecure in a way Vio rarely sees him. “I thought you, uh, didn’t like me anymore. Since I’m all vampy now.”

Vio’s jaw drops.

“You thought I would like you less because you’re a vampire?”

Shadow throws up both hands, annoyed but relieved. “Forgive me for assuming that you, Vio the Vampire Slayer, would perhaps have some reservations about kissing a vampire.”

“Shadow, roughly sixty percent of my self-indulgent fantasies involve a handsome vampire kissing me.”

“Really?” Shadow asks, perking up. “Any vampire in particular?”

Vio blushes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Only one in recent history,” he admits. “Ever since you turned, that is.”

Shadow appears to be thinking something through. “Holy shit,” he finally says, a grin spreading onto his face. “You must have been so psyched when I turned into a vamp.”

“Of course not, that would be awful!”

“Oh, come on,” Shadow teases, poking Vio’s arm, “I know your main priority was saving my soul or whatever, but there had to be some part of you that was also just like, ‘hell fucking yeah, vampire boyfriend.’”

Vio shakes his head, stopping their banter in its tracks. “I shouldn’t have been out there with you in the first place,” he says. “Even just outside the gym, I should have expected to attract monsters. Meanwhile, you had no idea about the Slayer stuff or the Hellmouth or vampires even existing at all, and I put you directly in harm’s way. There’s a reason the others don’t date, Shadow, it’s dangerous to be close to a Slayer.”

“Vio, no,” Shadow replies, his voice suddenly gentle. “I don’t blame you for what happened. At all.”

“You should,” mutters Vio, folding in on himself. He brings his knees up to his chest and hugs them, his back pressing uncomfortably against the headstone.

“I also don’t think you take pleasure in my misfortune,” Shadow adds. He lightens his tone slightly, cautiously, and eyes Vio to see if it’s the right move. “Honestly, you’re probably worse off than I am.”

“How so?” Vio asks, trading self-loathing for reluctant curiosity.

“Uh, you’re a vampire Slayer dating a vampire,” says Shadow. “I’m just some guy with fangs.”

Vio raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware we were dating.”

“Everyone else is.”

“No they’re not!”

“What the hell else would they assume, when we excuse ourselves to a dark corner of the library at least three times a week?”

“We do that so you can suck my blood!” Vio exclaims, “Not so we can—”

Shadow scoffs. “Oh yes, because me nearly sucking you dry to sustain my lifeforce is the less weird option of the two.” He makes a face and lifts a finger. “Don’t say it, I know that came out wrong.”

Despite himself, Vio smiles. Relaxes. Leans closer. “Well, if we are dating,” he says, intertwining Shadow’s fingers with his own, “is this, right now, a date?”

Shadow looks at their hands and then back at Vio. “If you want it to be.”

Of course Vio wants. He’s always wanted, why else would he have taken Shadow outside the dance in the first place?

With the softest tone he can muster, he begins to speak. “Shadow, I—”

A monster roars, and it’s not Vio’s boyfriend.

He jumps to his feet and assumes a fighting stance, his Slayer senses kicking in immediately. Swiveling his head, Vio sees a very unfriendly vampire headed straight in their direction, newly risen from a nearby grave.

How the fuck hadn’t he noticed sooner? He’s supposed to sense when there are vampires around!

“Not again,” groans Shadow, cowering behind Vio like the human he so recently used to be. But Shadow isn’t human, he’s a vampire with a soul, whose presence must have masked the appearance of the true enemy.

They were going to have to figure that out in the future, if patrol dates become a normal thing.

But Vio shouldn’t get ahead of himself.

“I was busy,” he growls, kicking the vampire square in the chest. The vamp looks to be in his mid-forties, still all dolled up in his funeral suit. Very much soulless, with a fucked-up transformed face and absolutely nothing to lose.

Vio’s supernatural strength sends his opponent backwards, his back slamming against a particularly tall headstone. Vio reaches inside his jacket pocket while the vampire recovers, horrified to realize that he left his favorite stake at home.

“Shit,” he mutters, using a precious second to glance behind his back. Shadow half-hides behind a gravestone, clearly experiencing some kind of flashback to the last fight he experienced. Vio wants so badly to comfort his friend—but then again, there would probably be nothing more comforting in this moment than Vio kicking ass.

Without a stake or a stake-adjacent object, though, Vio’s options for vamp obliteration are limited. Beheading seems unlikely. Sunrise is hours away. He’ll definitely get arrested if he tries to set a fire. And while he does have supernatural proficiency with hand-to-hand combat, so do the vampires he fights—plus they’re speedy, too.

Capitalizing on Vio’s hesitation, the vamp clasps cold hands around his neck. He’s so strong, and squeezing with such force, that he’s able to fully lift the teenager’s body off the ground.

Placed in such a predicament without his trusty stake, Vio feels a combination of fear, panic, and embarrassment. Green, Red, and Blue would never make such a stupid mistake.

Mistake… missed stake.

Vio would laugh, if he could breathe.

“Hey, asshole!” a familiar voice shouts. “Get your dead hands off my boyfriend!”

Vio opens eyes he hadn’t even noticed himself closing. Is that… a cord around the vampire’s neck?

Shadow yanks backwards by both earbuds, releasing Vio from the vampire’s grasp. Shadow himself seems surprised by the strength he now possesses, on par with both his ally and opponent. He wears the gruesome face of a fully-transformed vampire, and while Vio rather likes Shadow’s normal face, he’s glad to see a monster now.

Of course, Vio thinks, his eyes full of wonder. Last time, it had been a human and a Slayer against one nasty vampire. This time there are two nasty vampires, one of whom Vio has apparently been dating for the past several months. At the risk of overconfidence, Vio much prefers these odds.

Snap! The cord quickly loses its effectiveness, breaking in half against the vampire’s neck. Still, the diversion has given Vio enough time to retrieve the most stake-like resource available.

He lifts the pointed object and locks onto the vampire, who now wrestles with Shadow against a headstone. One particularly brutal knock of Shadow’s head against the stone humbles the teenage vampire, and the resulting whiplash allows his opponent to swipe a claw across his face.

Shadow cries out in pain, losing his hold on the enemy. This time, Vio is ready.

“Get lead poisoning, idiot,” he quips, and then plunges his #2 pencil into the vampire’s heart. The monster turns to dust, suit and all.

“Fuuuuuuck,” groans Shadow, still bracing himself against a tombstone. Vio frowns and runs to his side, cupping his soft humanlike face. There’s still a cut, but it should heal just fine, especially since he was transformed when he took the hit.

“Are you all right?” Vio asks anyway, searching Shadow’s eyes. “You didn’t have to—”

Shadow just smiles. “Yeah, but I wanted to. I’m not just some lame-ass human anymore, I can hold my own.”

He’d tried to protect Vio the last time, too. The irony of that still stings—a completely average person, risking his life in defense of someone Chosen to smite evil. Vio still feels guilty about Shadow’s misfortune, but at least now they’re on even footing.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Shadow continues, taking both of Vio’s hands. He looks concerned too, and Vio realizes that Shadow is still not quite used to the sight of him in moral peril. He’s not sure how to explain to Shadow that to him, Red, Blue, Green, and Zelda, mortal peril is just another Tuesday.

Vio squeezes Shadow’s hands. “I’m okay, I promise. I know that must have been scary to see.”

“Yeah, a little bit. You were, like, off the ground.”

“I get into tight spots pretty often,” Vio admits, “especially while patrolling. I understand if you’d prefer to keep our dates out of the cemetery in the future.”

Shadow shakes his head. “Nah, I’m no coward. And besides, I’d feel better knowing that someone has your back.”

“I… am not opposed to your company,” Vio mutters, and Shadow takes it for the grand declaration it is.

“Besides,” Shadow says, sitting back down against their original headstone of choice, “we definitely need to workshop your punning.”

“What’s wrong with lead poisoning?” Vio demands, offended.

“Pencils haven’t had lead in them since, like, 18-whatever-the-fuck.”

Vio allows Shadow to drag him to the ground. They settle against each other, just as they’d been before—but somehow, everything feels a little bit different. “Well,” Vio asks, “what else could I have said?”

He knows Shadow is pleased to have a say, even if he’s acting nonchalant. “I dunno. You could have killed him with the book and told him to read it and weep.”

Vio rolls his eyes. “I can’t stab anyone with a book, Shadow.”

“Not with that attitude, you can’t!”

Oh my god, Vio thinks, he is so annoying. So annoying, and so persistent, and so, so, so perfect.

“Hey Shadow… can we kiss again?”

Shadow grins, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Vio is admittedly psyched as their lips finally meet.

Hell fucking yeah, vampire boyfriend.

[forlorn-crows]

Oh it's Dew for sure to me.

He's always characterized as either a) a complete asshole with no regard for others or b) the whiniest, most pathetic little thing that cries at the drop of a hat. To me it seems like most people characterize him as younger than the other ghouls. Maybe not consciously, but it sure reads that way a lot of the time. Like he's completely emotionally immature and only capable of having a single personality trait (see above).

Like. Has no one seen how soft he can be on stage? I get that he had his little tiffs with Aether and sometimes chokes Rain, but for the most part he's such a softie. He plays with Swiss and dances when Nihil's casket gets brought out. He teases the crowd and clearly has fun with it. He has a whole personality!!

It's unfair to pigeonhole him as "the aggressive one", and I honestly don't know where the idea of him being a pathetic little crybaby came from, but it bothers me to no end every time I see him cry the second someone so much as kisses his neck or something.

PLS SHARE YOUR THOTS CROW

ohhh mr dewdrop, its time for curtain callll

@rrriver yours im gonna touch on at the end here bc its so interesting!!

but yes. reigning opinion seems to be that the babyfied version of dew is overwritten and very 2D. as well as the 'will burn your eyebrows at the drop of a pin' dew. ive touched on these things a little already.

but. dew is the fandom favorite, id say. the one everyone loooves to throw trauma onto. he is the very definition of 'put that guy in a situation'. he is very commonly written as the focus of many fics, whatever the genre. and to me, its so interesting that so many of us dont like these common headcanons, and do go out of our way to write our own versions, yet these things still stay the overarching theme. why is that? rhetorical question, really, but i do think the 'over emotional' idea of dew is very prevalent.

and, like ive said previously, i think he's much more stoic than that. he def shows some emotion. like cirrus, hes not a robot or anything. we see that on stage, of course, with the bits and what not. i think he knows when to joke, when to offer a hug, or when to get fired up about something (excuse the pun)

but i dont think hes going around lighting shit on fire cause something minor happened. do i think hed do that in certain circumstances? yeah absolutely. especially if youre of the belief that this ghoul has gone through some shit. has seen death and treason and went through an entire shift of all the atoms in his fucking body.

but hes strong, resilient. as well as soft and caring. to me, this is a ghoul that listens, that cares so fucking deeply. but he's calm about most things. observant. and a little frisky when he feels up for it.

and river, yes, he's so protective. like i said, most of us think hes seen some shit. so why wouldnt he be more level headed, stronger mentally, because hes seen what being reactive can do to a ghoul

and i really like your take on the different elements hes had and how that transfers to his personality. because there are so many nuances in elements in general! and i even have different ideas to how he acted as a newly summoned water ghoul verses a more 'seasoned' one. and some dont even believe he changed elements at all! but i agree, i dont think hes some shy little pretty water ghoul and nothing more. that boy had sass even back then, maybe even more so. but to me, he's always been that stoic and thoughtful ghoul that i do my best to write him as haha. there are far better writers of dew than i, but i for sure agree with y'all that there's things he isnt.

[runningfrom2am]

the sea around us; chapter nineteen

In which Rafe Cameron has to choose between his dad and a pogue who's changing his outlook on life more and more every day.

(rafe cameron x f!oc)

(eventual!jj maybank x f!oc)

warnings/tags: violence, drug/alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (if you squint), slowburn, older brother’s best friend, (these tags are obv not exhaustive but regardless it’s pretty PG13)

wc: 3k

my masterlist

series masterlist

TW; violence

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

"Hey, Snowy." There's a light knock on John B's bedroom door, where I'm laying in his bed having a nap and trying to forget about what happened earlier.

"Hey." I smile at Sarah as I sit up. "What's up?"

"So... since we're not going to go back for the gold for a couple of days and there's not much happening.." She grins, coming and sitting next to me, "I caught wind of this kook party happening tonight- would you care to join me? I don't think the others would want to go. Or want us to go, honestly."

I think about this for a minute. I'm not sure if the two of us are yet in big trouble with Rafe, or if he doesn't know yet, but I suppose there's only one way to find out, and maybe he won't even be there. So why not? "Yeah, yeah sounds like fun." I agree.

"Okay." She whispers now. "We'll tell them we're going back to Tannyhill to sleep, we'll sneak in and get changed, and we'll leave your car there and we'll walk over to the party because it's not far."

I laugh softly. "Yeah- Let's do it."

The time comes for Sarah and I to head out to "go home", eat dinner and then go to bed early, and we wave our goodbyes and get into my car. Luckily for us, no one is home so we get changed and eat, before heading out, walking towards where Sarah said the party is.

We arrive, and as expected, there are tons of people around. I stop on the lawn to pull out my first drink- since it already seemed overwhelming. "Getting started?" Sarah laughed, as I hand her a can.

"You bet." I smile, cracking it open and throwing my bag over my shoulder before we head for the door- I'm guessing Sarah wants to find her friends. We wander around a little, and I scan the crowd for familiar faces- particularly Kegs or Rafe, but they're nowhere to be seen. However, we do find Topper.

"Shit- shit, shit.." Sarah whispers, turning quickly to face me. "Tell me if Topper is coming." She says, and I take a sip of my drink as I watch him over her shoulder. He's standing in the kitchen, and he quickly sees me and waves, starting to walk over.

"Snowy!" He smiles.

"Yeah, he's coming," I whisper to Sarah and she gives me a look.

"Yeah, I figured, thank you." She says, plastering a smile on her face and turning to face him as he walks up.

"Hi Top." She says, lifting her drink to her lips.

"Sarah." He acknowledges her, still clearly bitter about their very recent breakup.

"So, you and Rafe, huh?" He asks me, making conversation. "Heard you're official now."

Sarah chokes on her drink at this, turning herself away to cough it out.

"Uh.." I chuckle. "Yeah, that's the new development." We both watch Sarah as she recovers.

"Sorry- uh, I didn't know that." She explains, standing up straight again. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," I laugh. "No, yeah I haven't told anyone. I'm giving him a grace period to change his mind." I joke.

"I doubt he'll do that. Rafe doesn't ever do relationships to begin with, you must be pretty special to him." Topper says, ignoring Sarah. "He's here, I think. I saw him and Kegs a little while ago..." He adds, looking around. "I'm gonna go find them. Nice to see you." Topper says, giving us a wave and walking off.

"You got Rafe to make it official? That's an achievement." Sarah laughs as he walks away.

"I guess so." I laugh with her, looking around. "What are you gonna do without John B here?" I joke, nudging her.

"I don't know, honestly. Shotgun with you, maybe talk to some of my friends but I don't think they want much to do with me these days.." Sarah says and I shake my head.

"If they'll drop you that fast because of who you're dating, they're not friends." I shrug.

"True, good point." Sarah agrees, toasting it and knocking her drink to mine before taking it a drink.

"So, uh, should we be trying to avoid Rafe tonight?" She asks.

"Possibly, yeah." I laugh. "He hasn't talked to me, so he's probably not our biggest fan right at this second."

"He'll have to forgive us- honestly we didn't actually do anything, we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not our fault we got robbed at gunpoint." She shrugs, and we laugh together. "He won't listen to me, but he'll listen to you."

"We'll just cross that bridge when we get to it," I say, shrugging it off.

"Hey! Ladies!" We hear someone shouting from the kitchen. We look over and see a boy about our age pointing at us. "Shot for shot?" He asks, Sarah and I look at each other and share a look that said on both sides 'should we?' which quickly transitions to a look of 'why not?'. We laugh at ourselves and look back at him.

"Sure! Pour us out." Sarah says as we both walk over to him.

"Hell yeah." He grins, pouring all of us our shots. "What're your names?"

"I'm Sarah, this is Snowy." Sarah introduces us. I can tell this guy is already drunk when he laughs obnoxiously at that.

"Damn- Snowy? That's one hell of a name. How much coke did you do to earn that one?" I roll my eyes at this. I've only heard that a million times.

"None, believe it or not," I say, picking up a shot glass.

"Well, nice to meet you Snowy and Sarah. I'm Ethan."

"Nice to meet you." Sarah agrees, holding up her glass. We clink them together, then the counter before downing them.

About five shots in and half an hour down, I'm already feeling like I'll fall if I try and walk anywhere. By this point, the three of us are sitting on the kitchen floor in a small circle, not really minding the number of people having to walk around and over us.

I decide I have to bite the bullet and get up to go use the bathroom anyways, so I slowly get up.

"Woah- careful there, sunshine.." Ethan laughs, helping me up as I was holding onto the counter for dear life, and the world begins to quickly spin around me as I stand up. Sarah giggles at me, giving me a thumbs up when I finally steady myself. "Bathrooms down the hall- want me to walk you?" Ethan offers and I shake my head.

"I'm good, I've got this." I laugh, running my hand along the wall as I walk to the bathroom. I have been really drunk before, but this time is different. I don't drink hard liquor all that often so that is likely the culprit here, but man, is the world spinning around me. The walls look like they're moving, and I can see myself walking but I don't feel like I'm moving at all. I'm making my way back to the kitchen after finding the bathroom when suddenly, I'm stopped when someone grabs me by my shoulders.

"Snowy? Holy shit..." They sigh, and I look up and see it's my brother. "What did you take?" He asks me.

"Kegs, hi." I smile, leaning into his arms now to give him a hug. I feel him hug me back, and I promptly get dizzy again. "I missed you. Did you know I love you so much? Because I do.." I ramble, but I'm pretty sure it's not audible since I'm talking into his shirt.

"Yeah, I love you too." He replies. "Where are you going? Where's Sarah?" Kegs asks, looking down at me now.

"I... Oh yeah, I'm going to the bathroom, no! No, I went to the bathroom, and now I'm going back to Sarah and Ethan in the kitchen. I think." I giggle. "I can hardly see anything this is craaazzyyyy..." I laugh, trying to focus my eyes on his face.

"Rafe?" I hear him shout over his shoulder loud enough to be heard over the music.

I gasp. "Rafe is here?" I grin. "I missed him too!"

"Rafe, man, here take her," Kegs says, as Rafe walks up behind him.

"What the fuck?" He asks my brother as I let go of Kegs and reach out for him.

"Hi..." I giggle and he grabs me, wrapping his arms around me and widening his stance to steady me but he doesn't draw his attention away from my brother.

"Hi Snowy.." Rafe smiles, giving me a quick kiss on the top of my head.

"Bro, what happened to her?" I hear him ask my brother.

"I don't know, but she said she was with your sister and some dude named Ethan, I think."

"Oh yeah! Yeah, so..." I start to explain, looking up at my boyfriend. Wow. My boyfriend. That's crazy. I find myself giggling as I look up at him, completely distracted. "Oh! Yeah, I was saying that, uhm... We were playing shot for shot, all three of us? And I think I'm losing because the walls are moving." I laugh, and Rafe looks back up at my brother.

"How many shots did you take?" He asks me.

"Uhm..." By now, I honestly can't remember. "I think five? Or six?"

Rafe stares at me intently. "Only five?" He asks and I nod. "Yeah, we only got here at like nine, like an hour ago." He looks at his watch and shakes his head, and I see his jaw clench as he looks at my brother.

Kegs away quickly, and Rafe helps me sit down. "Alright, you stay right here okay, baby? I'll be back." He says, gesturing to someone to come over.

"Can you sit with her man? I've just got to deal with something." Rafe says as Topper nods and sits down next to me.

"Wait- wait no I want to come with you." I insist, standing back up, but he's already long gone.

"Topper let's go, let's go find him," I say, starting to head down the hall after Rafe. It's so, so long.

"Hey, Snowy we should really wait here." Topper insists, but I decide to ignore it and follow after my boyfriend anyways.

"Dude- dude I swear I didn't do anything." I hear a familiar voice say as I round the corner into the kitchen, as Topper walks past me and helps Sarah off of the floor, pulling her outside.

I look just in time to watch my boyfriend punch Ethan right in the face as Kegs holds him back against the fridge. No way his nose isn't broken. I hear Ethan cry out in pain and I just stand there- shocked.

"Don't lie to me- man. What did you put in her fucking drinks!" Rafe yells in his face, slamming him back into the door. A crowd has gathered by this point.

"No, no, it's not like that. I swear I've been drinking the same shit out of the same bottle- it's just a mix." Ethan says in his defense, and I'm still just really confused.

"And you didn't think to tell them that? They're seventeen, you dumb piece of shit!" Rafe yells, hitting him again.

"I didn't know- I swear I didn't know. Her name is Snowy for fucks sake- I thought it was a joke." Ethan coughs, still trying to get out of my brother's grasp as blood pours down his face from his nose and lip.

"Fuck you," Kegs says, pulling him away from the fridge and throwing him on the floor.

"It's in your best interest to get out of here." Rafe says, standing over him. Ethan nods, getting back up and walking past me to get to the door, but then he stops.

"Just so you know, girls with boyfriends shouldn't dress like that at parties." He says to me, and before he's even done his sentence, Kegs is there shoving him forward.

"Keep fucking moving, man." Kegs says to him, and I look over at Rafe, who's being held back by a bunch of guys who are talking to him, but I can't hear what they're saying. "Snowy? Snowy, give me your phone." I hear Kegs saying to me, so I pull it out of my pocket and hand it to him.

He holds it up to his ear as he calls someone with it, and I'm just staring off into space. I feel like nothing is real- like that didn't just happen. It's only a matter of moments before someone is in front of me again, with one hand on my shoulder and the other placed on my cheek

"Hey, hey Snowy are you here?" Someone asks me, and I look up to see Rafe.

"Where's Sarah?" I ask, and he leans down, holding his ear close to my lips so he can hear me better.

"Sarah? Uh, Tops' got her. Let's get you some fresh air, yeah?" He says, picking up my backpack from next to the kitchen island where we were standing, and wrapping his arm around my waist to guide me outside.

We get outside and I immediately lay down on the lawn. "You okay, baby? Feel sick at all?" He asks me and I shake my head a little.

"Are you okay?" I respond, looking up at him. He chuckles a little bit.

"Of course." He smiles, pushing my hair out of my face.

"Where's Sarah?" I ask.

"She's still with Top. She's alright. John B is coming to get you guys." Rafe explains.

"Wait... wait no I don't want to go home.." I mumble, knitting my brows together and shaking my head.

"You can't stay here, it's time to get home. I think in about an hour you'll be happy to be home."

"No, I want to stay with you. Can we go back to your house?" I ask, sitting up.

"Shit, well... That's complicated." He sighs, fixing his hat as it sits backward on his head.

"Why?"

"I'm not staying there right now, that's all." He explains softly.

"Oh.. well, where are you staying? I want to go there. I want to be with you." I tell him again.

"Okay, uh... Alright," He looks around, thinking. "I know a place we can stay, I think. Once Sarah gets her ride Topper will take us, okay?"

I nod and then lay back down. "Sounds good." I open my eyes again and look up at the stars. It's beautiful out tonight. "Lay here." I say, patting the ground next to me.

I hear him laugh as he lies down. "Look at the stars- they're so pretty," I tell him, pointing up.

"Oh, yeah. They are." Rafe agrees.

"Do you regret asking me out now?" I ask him, eyes still trained on the sky.

"No." He answers quickly.

"I wouldn't be mad if you changed your mind, I promise," I tell him honestly.

"Don't say that." He replies. "You're my girl. I wouldn't change that for the world."

I giggle at that. "Listen, I know I sound so crazy saying that shit twenty-four hours into our relationship, but I've been meaning to ask you about that for a while so.." Rafe explains himself.

"It's sweet." I smile. "I don't think you're crazy at all." I hear someone honk their car horn three times quickly, and I sit up making my head rush as I look out to the road. It's John B, and Topper is over helping Sarah off the porch and towards the car. "We should go over.." I say, getting up as steadily as I can.

I wander over to the Twinkie and lean against the side of the car as John B is out helping Sarah in. Topper has gone back up to the porch, sensing it's not a good time to pick a fight with John B, but I can tell he's pissed.  I look back over at my friends as John B buckles the blonde's seatbelt. "Bye, Sarah." I smile, waving at her and she waves back. John B looks at me.

"Snowy, you're coming too, just give me one second." He laughs slightly.

"No, I'm not." I pout as Kegs tries to get me to the back door.

"I told him to come get you both." Kegs says.

"But Rafe said I could stay with him." I frown, sitting in the back of the car now. I watch my brother's confused face as he turns to my boyfriend, and they walk a little ways off to talk.

I turn my attention to John B and Sarah. "What happened?" John B asks either of us as he gets in the driver's seat again. Sarah can take this one.

"Uhm.. so we were going shot for shot with this guy, and apparently there was something in the drinks, but I don't know what, but we didn't know it was mixed at all, and then Snowy went to the bathroom and then Rafe and Kegs came and beat him up," Sarah explains, and I nod in agreement. That about sums it up.

"Dude- holy shit." John B says, wide-eyed as he looks between us. He looks up as Kegs and Rafe walk back up to the car, and Kegs goes over to the driver's side window to talk to JB as Rafe comes to the back door and holds his hand out for me to take. I take it, and he helps me out as the two other boys talk.

"Should I be taking them to the hospital?" John B asks my brother, who shakes his head.

"Nah, man. We talked to that guy's friends and they told us what was in it, nothing actually dangerous in the amount they had. But keep an eye on her anyways, she'll just have to sleep it off." Kegs said as he rests his hand on the top of the car.

"What about Snow?" John B asks him next, noticing I got out of the car.

"Rafe is gonna take her- you only need one girl to carry in." My brother jokes.

John B looks over at us uncertainly. "Hey, she'll be fine, pal, just get out of here." Kegs tells him, stepping back from the van so John B can drive off.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

taglist: @boo22sstuff@madelynie (message me if you want to be added!!)

[jjenjoyer]

hope is a dangerous thing - jj maybank

summary: jj maybank hates the new girl in town.

playlist:

hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have - but i have it - lana del rey

fuck it i love you - lana del rey

warnings: mentions of violence, language

[jj's pov]

[896 words]

i first saw her out on the waves during hurricane Agatha. stupid mystery girl, surfing the surge like its nothing, as if she couldn't get wiped out with one wrong move. what a poser.

i hate her.

great, she's in my class too. pink really isn't her colour, and that cardigan seems way too hot for the outer banks, what on earth is she thinking? really dumb outfit choice. i'm glad that she didn't sit next to me, thanks a ton mr. sunn.

i hate her, and her ugly pink cardigan.

oh, just excellent! thank you so much kiara, how lovely of you to invite my mortal enemy to party with the pogues at the boneyard tonight. i bet she can't even hold her liquor.

i really hate her. she seems fake, nobody is that nice.

speak of the devil. at least this time she's wearing something decent, but it looks shit on her. i can't believe she's had 4 beers already and still doesn't look tipsy.

i cannot stand her.

oh great, she's walking up to me. whatever god is out there, what did i do to deserve this? fuck you, honestly. her voice is sickeningly sweet, but kinda raspy, like textured honey. ew. at least she brought me a beer. i don't like her freckles.

i don't want to be around her.

she's getting on with the pogues alarmingly well. this is not looking good... ohhhh no, john b, why would you invite her to hang with us at the chateau tomorrow?! i bet she's a slob.

she better not try to talk to me. i don't think i can handle that.

...why is that kook staring at her like that. he looks like a starving wolf, practically violating her with his eyes. she's not even all that great to look at, but still, that's not gonna happen on my watch.

i hate that i'm starting a fight for no reason, its none of my business but oh well, too late to back out now.

why is she drawing stars around my bruised knuckles. and why is she concentrating so hard, holding my hand with an unbearable softness, her tongue sticking out comically, like some cartoon character. how did i even get here. fuck.

i don't like her...

her bubbly laugh when i crack a joke is so annoying, making me feel all gross inside. i wish she would shut up so i can get it out of my head, although i doubt i could if i tried.

fuck.

i can barely hold the soft, yet intense gaze of her massive e/c eyes. she looks like a bug, i really want to squish her. maybe then i would stop feeling like this. i don't know why she's so persistent even though i'm clearly showing no interest.

i really hope she doesn't see through me.

ah great, i'm sick. thankfully the pogues are going fishing today, and taking whats-her-name with them. i need some time alone with my thoughts, although i'm not sure if i can handle them. someone's knocking on the door, maybe john b forgot something.

"its open!" i manage to croak out.

oh no. no no no no no please not her. anybody but her. goddamn it.

"hey, jj, um- if you tell me to i'll leave, but i heard you were sick, and thought i could help-- my mom's a nurse, so i know a thing or two-"

"i don't want your help. go have fun. i know you don't want to be here, plus you'll get sick too." why the fuck does she care about me. she shouldn't.

"i do, and i'll take that risk. plus i don't really wanna get sunburnt, my outfit isn't really suitable for the situation."

she's right, it definitely isn't. that flowy off-shoulder crop-top and embroidered jean shorts are way too flattering, and its not looking good for me.

i hate that she cares, its not helping my situation.

the way she looks after me makes me want to scream at her. why the fuck is she so gentle with me when i don't deserve even a sliver of it?

i hate to admit it, but she's been pretty decent company today. we got to know each other, and the fact that she fits all my criteria for 'ideal type' makes me want to die, because there's no way it'll actually happen, right? she's way too good for someone like me.

who am i kidding, i don't hate her. in fact-

"hey jj? you with me, man?"

"uh yeah- sorry, what were you saying?"

"why do you hate me so much?"

oh, dear...

"you're too perfect for your own good. it's killing me, knowing that acknowledging my feelings will only end in disaster, because i am the last person to deserve you. so no, y/n i don't hate you. although i really, really fucking wish i did."

her shocked expression confirms my opinion, i bet she's gonna sprint out of here in-

lips. my lips are touching something. what the fuck is going on. fuck, she tastes like lemon ice cream, do you even get that in obx? fuck if i know. goddamn.

so, as i was saying, i do not, in fact, hate y/n l/n. as a matter of fact, it is the exact opposite.

i am an absolute goner.

a/n: this is so trash lol yall should see my old stuff, idk what happened to my quality of writing, academic burnout is my biggest suspect tho >:/

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

So I just had a though process of the fact Black Butler basically revealed several bloodtypes that characters have and the personality types they may have

Examples

Lizzie, being a Canopus, is pretty dead on with what I assume many people's first impression of Lizzie in the beginning before we all had a unison cry over her bad-assness in the ship ark

Ciels(both OCiel and RCiel)

Being Sirius is also pretty on the nose with the whole genius bit and even the two-face side of character which he does do naturally

And thanks to this from both @midnight-in-town and @abybweisse we were able to come up with certain bloodtypes these two would tie into

Those with "Sirius" as their guardian are most likely Type AB while those who are protected by "Canopus" are Type B Which fun fact those who are Type B can donate blood to those who are Type AB

Now, lets check bloodtype personalities or Ketsueki-gata that Blavat is kind of basing it off of

WARNING: None of these traits are set in stone, they are just little things like Zodiac signs, if you belong to these blood types and don't think it's correct, I apologize

Blood Type A:

People with type A blood have been linked to positive traits such as creativity, cleverness, and cooperativeness, whereas their supposed negative traits include stubbornness and uptightness.

So those who are Type A are creative and stubborn, an imminent thought of Doll until the reveal. In a way, I can lowkey see Soma being Type A just off this alone

Blood Type B:

Individuals with type B blood are supposed to be strong, passionate, empathetic, and decisive, but they have also been associated with selfishness and erratic behavior. People with this blood type are said to clash with those with type A blood.

Very interesting that erratic behavior are part of this with from what we've seen of Lizzie and later on Doll. The empathy and passionate sides already check out with them both with how trusting they both are and in a way, the "selfish" part also makes sense somehow

Blood Type AB:

The purported strengths of those with type AB blood include rationality and adaptability, but their weaknesses are said to be indecision, criticalness, and forgetfulness. This blood type is largely viewed as having the characteristics of both type A and type B individuals.

. . . Somehow the idea of forgetful Ciels are funny as shit-

And finally, Blood Type O:

Type O people have been linked to characteristics such as confidence, determination, resilience, and intuition, but they are also supposedly self-centered and unstable. They are said to especially appear selfish to individuals with Type A blood.

If he had blood, this feels like Sebastian's Blood Type

Big thanks to verywellmind.com for helping with the stuff for this little post

And, as I've mentioned a lot so far, we also recently got confirms of Doll's blood type also being B as she's "protected by Canopus" like Lizzie!

And as I've mentioned, they're both rather similar, something I believe was something we all lowkey-ed ship them over before all of this.

They are both passionate:

Lizzie is very passionate in her skills and being the perfect fiancée for either Ciels while Doll is very clearly very passionate of her own skills of being a perfect family member

They're both empathetic:

They both follow and lead through life and their decisions with their emotions, they're both emotional and open bleeding hearts, the smallest story of a sobbing tale wins them over than basic knowledge of "that seems a lil sus"

They are both strong:

This is both physically and emotionally. These two take in a lot just being connected to the Phantomhives, they were in different forms of darkness due to that family alone and the stuff that happened to said family

And not to mention, according to this Blood Type Personality thing, THEY'RE THE MOST COMPATIBLE RELATIONSHIP WISE!

So yeah, CielLizzie, CielDoll, LizzieDoll shippers, go nuts!

But wait, there's more!

Cause we have four more blood type reveals baby!

And if you need help on who's who:

Sirius = Gregory Violet

Canopus = Lawrence Bluewear

Vega = Herman Greenhill

Polaris = Edgar Redmond

P.S., I'm not fully convinced on Canopus and Polaris mainly cause with hoods up it's hard to tell besides special features aka Violet's lipstick and heigh aka Greenhill, I just assume Polaris is Redmond due to his mouth being more open than Canopus which makes me think of him as he would be the most obvious choice of public speaking out of all of them especially Bluewear

It's safe to assume they represent their actual Blood Types, which is furthered evidence when Violet is nearly killed due to giving blood, which let's review knowing them:

Sirius/Blood Type AB: The purported strengths of those with type AB blood include rationality and adaptability, but their weaknesses are said to be indecision, criticalness, and forgetfulness. This blood type is largely viewed as having the characteristics of both type A and type B individuals. Very Violet, especially when it's any scene of him doing any form of arts a.k.a....

Vega/Blood Type O: Type O people have been linked to characteristics such as confidence, determination, resilience, and intuition, but they are also supposedly self-centered and unstable. They are said to especially appear selfish to individuals with Type A blood. Which is rather on the nail with Greenhill as we've seen in the panels I've shared and that moment he accidentally almost crushed OCiel in the head with his cricket swing

As for Polaris and Canopus, they're left alone for now since I'm still switching on who Redmond and Bluewear are, but it's very clear Yana planned these characters well with this whole thing in mind!

But what do you guys think? Based off the info alone do you think you can think of would fit which blood type?

[maniacwatchestheworld]

So I recently listened to The Riddler: Secrets in the Dark, and I will admit, it was a pretty fun listen! I personally liked it more than Batman Unburied, but Batman: the Audio Adventures is still entirely unmatched in my heart as far as Batman podcasts go. The Riddler is just an exceedingly entertaining character to listen to and so an entire story focused on him is a bit of a delight!

However I will say... I don't know how I feel about them trying to push the idea of Eddie being an actual psychopath (as in making him genuinely incapable of feeling empathy) in this story... Like being a narcissist? Oh, ABSOLUTELY! Him having some features of Antisocial Personality Disorder? Sure! I can buy that! But him genuinely being incapable of relating to and empathizing with others...? ... I don't know... In some contexts it could work, but it's a vibe that I don't really like for this particular iteration of the Riddler... Like, they didn't NEED to make Eddie a psychopath. It's not really plot significant, and he already has OCD and Narcissistic Personality Disorder to an extent that it inhibits his ability to conduct his affairs, so it's not like they needed to give him reasons to be in Arkham or to explain his actions or anything. I feel like him being an actual psychopath kinda takes away from the story without adding much to the table. I feel like everything that they try to accomplish with his psychopathy could also be accomplished with Eddie's unique cocktail of OCD and Narcissistic Personality Disorder...

However I do think that it would make things MUCH more funny if Eddie is out here pretending to be a psychopath when he actually isn't because it makes him seem cooler, more badass, and more sinister than he actually is! He is a narcissist after all! And what better shield to have than telling everyone that you're super cool and awesome and don't care about your friends dying and being killed around you than to pretend to be a psychopath, right? Especially given that you already are a criminal and spend most of your time in an insane asylum.

I am all for his sister being an actual psychopath though! But for Eddie himself... I don't know... It kinda takes away from what makes the character fun for me...? But for him to be just a narcissist pretending to be a psychopath because it makes him seem cooler? Oh! That's actually pretty funny! He's just being a tsundere about his friends dying! "Oh, Calendar Man was murdered? Well, I want to find out who his killer is because... Because it's a riddle that needs to be solved and this clearly puts me in danger, and it's not like I cared about him or thought that he was a good friend of mine or anything b-baka! Clearly I'm a psychopath who can't care about anyone but myself, Batman!" That's much more funny and in line with who the Riddler is as a character than him genuinely being incapable of feeling empathy and sorrow for his dead friends!

[butterbabyflapjack]

ch. 3

Warning Tags (⚠️): darkfic, canon-typical violence, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, stalking, blood and injury, bondage, bloodplay, manipulation, yandere, kidnapping, b&e, let’s hope the cops find you, knifeplay, coerced and non-consensual explicit sexual content, forced oral sex, throat fucking, banter, dub-con / non-con, death threats, rough sex, teasing, Ghostface is a funny silly murder man, Oh yeah and he wants to fucking kill you, jealous Danny, dead dove: do not eat

You’ve been kidnapped by some sick fuck in a mask who goes by Ghostface. Tied with a pretty little bow and strung upside-down in a place you don’t recognize; where your newest, psychotic bestie intends to have oodles of bloody fun with you.

And as far as toxic obsessions go, you unfortunately may be more than just some random fling.

Wherein you slowly unravel Danny, and he slowly unravels you.

The flash of a camera awakes you; singes through your eyelids and forces you to wince your eyes open, one hazy blink at a time.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Danny Johnson x fem!reader

NOW PLAYING >> CHAPTER THREE , total run-time: 3420 words

>> theatre one : tumblr chapter directory

>> theatre two : ao3

tags (💜): @thequeenofsimpin, @samsaurwrites, @whimsyvixen

You kinda lose your cool a bit after your masked captor’s departure. Screaming after him for long enough that you lose track of how many pleas and insults echo back at you. Though eventually you slump back in a defeated heap against the wall behind you, leaning heavy on your aching, shackled arms. Too tired to keep on shouting at a man who clearly isn’t there to hear it.

He’s left you all to your lonesome, it seems. Alone in the five-star extravagance of Chateau de Slaughterhouse.

Or, at least… you think it’s a slaughterhouse, or maybe an out of commission meat processing plant of some kind. You’d hate to think what other place might have the same rows of meat hooks lining its ceilings, though suspicions regarding where you are exactly are short lived; snuffed out, when you have so many other problems banging at the door, insisting you pay attention to them. Your spiraling thoughts over where the hell this psycho’s left you led swiftly astray by the musky, heady taste of him still lingered in your mouth. And though your entire body’s sore, you still manage to tense up enough to hock as much saliva as your dry throat can offer, spitting with disgust onto the floor.

“Fuck you,” you scathe, to exactly no one. To the man who exists, now, in just a memory.

If only he’d stay that way.

And if only he wasn’t the only memory from the recent past you could recall.

As if you didn’t already have more than enough reasons to hate him, you make a point in adding violating your mouth and your mind to the ever-growing list.

You were the one moaning with his cock down your throat, some vicious piece of you steals in through your anger, seeping through the cracks of your crumbling composure; and fiercely you push it away, visibly shaking any such abhorrence from your head.

“No,” you say aloud – like a crazy person. “No, no… no – I wasn’t.. That, wasn’t…I didn’t…” Flustered, you shake yourself again. “I was just trying to breathe, I wasn’t…”

Some part of you – the traitorous part – whispers with accusations that maybe the reason you can’t even finish a full sentence is because you’re lying. And this time, instead of being able to push those intrusive thoughts away, the cracks in your sanity cling to them, welcome them on in with open arms.

“Wait…” you mumble aloud, with a whirlwind uptick of alarm. “Was… was that stockholm syndrome? Do I have stockholm syndrome? Fuck – what even is stockholm syndrome?!”

By the time you realize you’re hyperventilating, it’s a tough fucking road toward calming down. Telling yourself over and over to breathe, just breathe, just breathe.

“I don’t have stockholm syndrome,” you tell yourself, even though really you aren’t sure. But through sheer fucking will you command it to be true. “That takes time to develop. Or something. Right? Jesus fuck– o-okay, just…” tremulously, you attempt to scrape together your fracturing parts, “it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s okay. Well, i-it’s not okay, but it will be – it will be okay. I’ll be okay.”

Maybe if you say it fifty times fast it’ll come true.

It’s all too much to process right now. All of it. Everything. And especially anything even close to resembling him; the ghost who spied you.

Maybe you should try focusing on the positive, instead – that’s what people in dire situations are supposed to do. Right? Okay, so, all things considered… other than the whole kidnapped, mind-raped, and throat-fucked by a masked psycho in an abandoned slaughterhouse thing…

“Just stop fucking thinking!” you falter in rising distress.

Sorry, but there’s just no fucking way you can be positive about all this. That’s a hell of a lot to ask. Because, sure; maybe your unhinged kidnapper has withdrawn to whatever demented hellhole he spawned from for the time being. But he told you he’d be back. And, sure; your heart’s no longer jackhammering with the weight of gravity inside your skull. But you’re still trapped here. Your shoulders wrested back and throbbing, without even the courtesy of going completely numb. Your hands and arms likewise aching, their prickles of discomfort a constant reminder that you have zero use of them; a setback you mean to remedy as soon as humanly possible, assuming you find a way to she-hulk or sherlock your way out of here. Because if this psycho thinks you’re just gonna sit around all day and not do everything within your power to escape him, he’s got another thing coming.

Part of you hopes he doesn’t think you capable. That he doesn’t suspect you’d ever be brave (or maybe stupid) enough to ever try to leave. Cause it’d make pulling one over on him that much easier, that much more gratifying when you find a way of slipping through his fingers.

If you find a way.

But before you can actually plan some kind of vengeance on that ghostfaced freak, your bone-deep exhaustion gets the better of you. Making your eyelids grow heavy, your marrow turn to lead. And crumpled in on yourself against the wall, half-naked and chilled by the concrete beneath you, uncomfortable sleep eventually sweeps your mind into its unforgiving clutches.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when finally you awaken, doing so with a harrowing start, as if a bucket of ice was your wakeup call. And after choking back a few shrill breaths, wide eyes darting around your dilapidated, makeshift prison cell in confusion, the recollection of everything that happened to you after waking upside-down trickles back into your skull.

So, it wasn’t just a nightmare. That’s great. That’s really great.

You don’t have time to be more enthusiastically pessimistic about it before you’re bombarded by a million questions, all shooting at you from different directions.

What is the place? Who the hell was that guy? When is he coming back? Why did he leave me here?

Though, one particular question sticks at the forefront of your discomposure.

Why me…?

Why the fuck did he kidnap me…?

Lords know you haven’t a clue. How would you. And you’re fairly certain you don’t even know who the bastard is, even if you haven’t seen what lie behind his mask. He found enough amusement making sure you knew he wasn’t your pal to make that a clear enough assumption.

But for some strange, unsettling reason, you can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t all happenstance. That he somehow… knows you. Or, at least, he thinks he does.

Trying to make sense of anything, you rack your brain for any hints he might have unwittingly lent you. Though all you can really surmise is that he somehow knows where you live, seeing as how he knew exactly where to find your spare house key.

“Under that cute little froggy planter nestled on the balustrade, yeah?”

Unease drags frigid through your veins at the recollection of his telling you as much. Because how, exactly, did he know that?

Has this psycho been following you…?

It’s not a comforting thought. And as goosebumps prickle down your neck, your apprehension leads you into still more questions. Because, assuming that he really has been watching you…

Jesus – how the fuck long has this guy been possibly stalking you?!

“Just… focus,” you cut through your alarm, reminding yourself to stay calm for what feels like the hundredth time. Your worried gaze blinked around the room. “Find a way to escape… Find a way out of here…”

You probably won’t get the hell out of here without the use of your hands to help you. And attempting to twist your arms apart, despite how you already know those ropes tying them won't budge, the scrape of chain against concrete pulls your attention toward it. The sound so jarring, so imprisoning when all else is silence, though you do your best to force your nerves into a tiny little ball and swallow them back down again, not wanting your panic to cloud your judgment.

Caught somewhere between frantic and some frayed version of ‘calm, focused, I’m definitely not panicking’, you search your surroundings. Searching for something, for anything that might be useful. Though the room around you is mostly bare.

There’s those hooks you’re well acquainted with, jutting from the ceiling as well as from some sort of corroded conveyer belt spanning the length of the room. All the light fixtures look birthed from a rusty tomb, and you’re surprised they’re even working at all. A giant, metal grate slots the floor far off to your right, with all the walls surrounding you bitten by age, pieces of them crumbling, strewing rubble across the ground. There’s even a portion eroded clear through near that grate in the distance; and though you think, as you crane yourself as much as you can toward it, that there might be some sort of metal beam or piping inside, your chain-link ‘leash’ won’t let you get your hands on whatever it is regardless.

You notice the desk against the wall directly opposite you last, stationed just beside the opened doorway across from you. Its warped, chipped wood appearing just as old as the rest of this place, and yet it itself doesn’t seem to belong in this disquieting room. Almost like it was dragged in here recently.

The glowing, red dot of a camera sitting atop it further fuels your suspicion of this.

So he really does have cameras…

You’d flip it your middle finger if you could.

And though your hackles raise in its direction, your legs pulling in along the concrete as you curl them against yourself in some bid to shield your lack of underwear from view, your insides are soon clenching into uncomfortable knots as you realize that camera’s likely been running this entire time.

Was he filming himself fucking me?

He was definitely filming me talking to myself.

“Fuck you, you voyeristic creep!” you shout at that present he’s left just for you. Wanting it to snap back at you, to tempt your rage, to be an outlet for your frustration and fear and anger. But it just sits there. Its small, red light staring you right in the face.

What else is he planning to film himself doing to me…?

The remembered sheen of his hunting knife cuts through your rising apprehension, distracting you from glaring at the lens, leading you down another rabbit-hole entirely.

He won’t have time to film anything else, you shakily insist to yourself, your legs tugged in tighter, your brows a stricken knot.

You’ll be rescued before that. Someone will realize you’re missing soon – they have to. Your coworkers at the diner or your gossipy best friend, Blaire, regardless of how unreliable she is. You’re not sure how long you’ve been here, but there’s a chance she’s realized you’re missing already. And if she hasn’t, her older brother, your fiancé, August, should have; even if the two of you haven’t moved in together yet. Surely he’s noticed you’re gone by now… though the sting that maybe he hasn’t needles beneath your skin, with you doing your best to ignore it.

If no one’s noticed yet, they will soon. And then they’ll raise the alarm, call the cops, send out a search party or something. August has contacts, he’s got his disgustingly lavish trust fund he can tap into – he’ll find you. They’ll find you. You tell yourself that over and over again until some semblance of you believes it.

But… in the meantime, and just in case those inklings of dread suggesting no one will ever find you are true…

You’re not going to just wait around hoping for someone else to save you. You’re fully capable of saving yourself. At least, you’d like to think you are.

The heavy drag of chain crackles through the room once more as you attempt to twist around and peer over one shoulder enough to see exactly how your arms are tied behind your back, which seems the first logical step in somehow untying them. Though seeing doesn’t do much good. Your hands and forearms are wrapped tight with an expert’s touch, bound with knots you don’t recognize, not that you’re exactly the knot-tying type. And your eyes follow the short length of chain leashing them, attached to the steel beam at your side, wrapped around it like an iron snake and cinched with a combination padlock that you definitely don’t know the passcode to.

Brow furrowed, you focus instead on where that chain’s attached to the ropes tethering your arms together, affixed by two carabiners like the sort used for rock climbing. Both with screw locks you’d need the agility of freed fingers to unfasten. And it’s not like you were expecting to find some sort of ‘PRESS HERE TO FREE YOURSELF’ flashing-neon button, but the visual confirmation of just how fucked you are still shoves you against an edge of panic despite your best efforts, with you barely managing not to let yourself devolve completely.

How the hell am I supposed to get out of this….?! Your fingers wriggle as if that will somehow help, and you choke back a whimper when it doesn’t. Fuck…. Fuck!

“Calm down - calm down - just… get your shit together,” you shakily rebuke. Because it’s not hopeless, it can’t be hopeless. And you do your best to tend to that small, resolved flame licking at your heart which urges you once more toward finding some sort of solution.

Okay… okay, so maybe you can’t dial in the code to your freedom. And you doubt you’ve recently gained the ability to muscle through iron-link chain. But… maybe if you could find a way to cut through the rope around your arms, instead… If you cut those ropes, the rest would just fall away, wouldn’t it?

Hope swelling in your chest, your gaze darts anxiously around the room in desperate search of anything sharp or serrated enough to free you, anything you might wiggle back on enough to slice through those cords digging into your skin.

Too bad that masked fucker didn’t leave his hunting knife, because there’s not a whole lot else to work with in here, and what little there is isn’t anywhere near where you can reach it. And the longer you search, leash clanking as you crane and twist this way and that, the more that resolved little flame in you flickers toward petering out.

Your head falls back against the wall, defeat caving you in.

And that’s when you see it. Your golden light, your possible ticket to freedom, basically right in front of you.

That metal beam. That stupid fucking support beam you’re chained to. Your wilted perseverance draws toward it; old and rust coated, just like everything else in this god awful place. Not old enough to break through or anything – no, it’s strong, solid steel by the looks of it, and by the feel of it, seeing as how it doesn’t budge or so much as creak as you shift along the floor against it, hauling your body weight to test its strength.

But it’s also a square beam. Square – as in, four corners. Corners that time may have rusted and edged up just enough to claw through those ropes biting into you.

It’s kinda a long shot. Like, really a long shot. But maybe if you rub your ropes over one of those corners long enough, it’ll be enough to cut and snap through them.

That metaphorical lightbulb’s barely popped above your head when you’re already shimmying and bumbling your way awkwardly across the floor toward it. Wiggling your spine into position against its length, which by all appearances you’re simply leaning back on; nothing noteworthy for fuck-face’s cameras to take note of.

And then you pull the most badass escape-artist stunt ever.

You start fucking jiggling.

Jiggling and rocking your body up and down as best as you can, see-sawing your ropes against one of the beam’s edges. Throttled by nervous energy that has all of you trembling, while at the same time attempting to appear nonchalant, to not draw attention to what it is you’re doing just in case there’s anyone behind that camera to witness your hopefully soon-to-be disappearing act.

Friction has those cords growing warm, and you bite back a hiss of pain as nerves make you sloppy, the beam’s corner scuffing an angry, raised line near one of your elbows, though you’re too hell-bent on escape and strung-up with anxiety to care. Less and less inclined to worry about how bizarre you might look, as the fact that this might actually be working takes the stand.

You don’t realize that your lungs are caught somewhere between apprehensive trembling, and desperate, tittering, crackbrained laughter until you hear a set of faraway footsteps above the breathy sound of it, at which point your weird little wiggle dance ceases completely, with you staring wide-eyed and stock still against the beam behind you. Staring at the doorway those unmistakable bootsteps are slowly echoing toward.

It’s that psycho. It has to be. He’s back, just like he promised. And although you despise him, your resentment must commend his horrid timing. Though, from the sound of his scuffed, lackadaisical gait, he’s more than happy to take his time in coming to say hello.

For whatever reason, that irks you even beyond your underlying fear of him. Like he can’t even be bothered to give a damn about checking in on his hostage, making sure she hasn’t escaped (which, she unfortunately hasn’t, but still).

Bastard…!

Your apprehension gets stuffed away someplace he won’t see it; barbs itself with a heated glare, as every muscle in you tenses while listening to those lazy footsteps draw steadily nearer. Your body rigid against the pole behind you.

Though as your cowled, masked phantom finally makes his grand entrance – rounding the corner into the room he’s made your cage, dressed to the nines in all his svelte, sculpted, leather-bound glory – the revulsion in your gaze balks, your determination to make him know just how much you hate him with a single look alone fizzling out. Poofed away, at the sight of just what else he’s brought with him. Because the creepy fucker has a black messenger back slung sideways across his tapered torso, the bulk of it sitting heavy against one hip – a bag he very much didn’t have with him the last time he was here to torment you.

But that’s not exactly the detail that has you rattled, blinking as if to clear your vision, like it evidently needs clearing.

No, it’s the other thing he’s brought along with him.

Because the bastard has his mask pulled up just enough to show off pasta-sauced lips, slick and slurping, framed by an angular jaw dotted in the dark scruff of a man who’s missed a few days shaving. And he’s cupping a large, red sneaker up to his face like he’s some sort of ravenous rat-mutant crawled out of the sewer, spooning spaghetti from that sneaker and into his face like it’s a four-course-fucking-meal.

Yeah, that’s right – the dude’s eating spaghetti from a goddamn dirty shoe.

And you knew the guy was insane; he’d have to be, with the shit he’s pulling. But you’re too disturbed to outright laugh at this newest, vibrant declaration of just how off his fucking rocker he really is.

This guy doesn’t just need a prison sentence. He needs a muzzle and a fucking straightjacket.

He pauses mid-slurp as he catches you gawking up at him, a stream of noodles still dripping from his mouth. And a slow smile draws his messy lips at the sight of you strung and sitting there, the curve of it fiendishly clever.

His lady-and-the-tramp love affair with noodles is noisily slurped up, his lips licked clean, before he finally addresses you.

“Hey there, honeybun…” His grin cuts sidelong across the only half of his chiseled face you can see. “I missed you.”

¸¸.•*¨*• ♡ outro ♡ •*¨*•.¸¸.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note: A scene from this chapter was very much inspired by this artwork by rodod-endro ♡

If you want added/removed from the taglist just lemme know

[merchantarthurn]

all i have to say about the miraculous special aside from incoherent happy noises is that it's exactly like every fanfic i hold dear in that it felt so self-indulgent when it came to fun "what-if" scenarios and also really hit on like. actual fun character beats (okay turns out i have things to say, so here's a spoilery read more)

starting immediately with the alt theme song with gabriel was so inspired i had to immediately pause and lose my mind.

gabriel as a significantly better dude who is just failing to connect with his son during their very different grieving periods is legit so much more interesting than i expected from a "character morality flip" moment

alya and nino being still on the resistance team fills me with a lot of delight for so many reasons - character related, but also for the alt-universe actually not being a 'everyone is a different alignment' universe. the overall universe and characters perceptions of themselves or how they dealt with their grief is clearly completely altered for the ones we see changed. like... gabriel seems to have started off in a similar spot but the specifics of the universe meant he changed teams for the better. emilie seemingly dying much more suddenly and the general turmoil of the universe (and presumably not going to school with the other kids?) leading adrien to not process his grief in the same way. marinette never meeting alya and not finding the courage to stand up for herself without threats and power. damn...

betterfly is a stupid name and i love that. just remember that his name is just "butterfly" and not "hawkmoth" in french okay.

shadybug is also very silly but it's a pretty perfect alternative for 'toxinelle' and also so funny

the only knock i will give the episode is she changed her hairstyle at the end. shadybug's whole look was 10/10, she could have just shifted the colour scheme for the friendly vibe. i also think chat should have kept the green hair and maybe just gone with green eyes.

on cool outfits: the butterfly + ladybug combo looked gorgeous imo i will not argue on this

i was not expecting the episode to make me feel things but it was genuinely very sweet how both AU-duos got a mutual pep-talk. like this was a perfect time in s5 for it to be set - marinette's still struggling to find belief in herself and adrien is freaked out about what his power could do to someone, and his own self-control about that. and their chats with their alternate selves help them settle something (at least for now) in addition to helping the other!! their AU selves definitely have more to deal with given.. everything, but that's for another time im sure >:) i really do like that despite their Attitude they are just treated like kids with problems y'know? honestly i wish adrien had longer to talk about his grief cos i think that's a really valuable bit of telly for young'uns who've lost a parent y'know?

there's some #Logic you could do about identity reveals but honestly i do not care, because an actual fanfic where they're like "hey butterfly man if you told us who you were we could stop monarch way faster" and that resulting in some good!gabriel and chat/adrien chatting with him knowing who hawkmoth is like... ARGH. imagine. i feel like there's so many reasons he wouldn't want to expose his identity even to allies and we didn't need a scene where that was explained and i'll fight anyone who insists it's a ~cinema sins plothole ding~ that it didn't happen. if it's not in the show you get to fanfic it in many flavours. this is a WIN actually.

generally ive been so happy with season 5 and this just. ah. idk i was just very happy the entire time. im sure there'll be a lotta folks bemoaning this that and the other and that's fine! please have fun doing that cos i know people do but man mlb is to me my fun baby show for babies but season 5 feels like it went "what if this show was everything you already loved AND it gave you catharsis on like 30 different things on a show you've been watching since episode 4"

[reachexceedinggrasp]

Yeah I enjoyed boarding school-genre (St. Mallory's etc.) books when I was little--- my grandma used to get them for me. I wasn't big on HP because it was boarding school genre minus a female protagonist, and not nearly as fun or as silly. Overall my issue with HP's reception is that it's very intentionally a riff on that genre, not fantasy (and you can see this with the historic aversion to categorising it as fantasy at all, like rejecting the Hugo award). Even right down to what you describe with Snape in that linked post is that his archetype is very common in the boarding school genre (mean teacher who is secretly nice) that I knew immediately he was going to be a Good Guy the Whole Time, though the way it's done is with more emotional gravitas and probably more moral condemnation than those teachers ever warrant, since the nature of HP evolved. Imo the silliness/whimsy never sat right with its serious war narrative and that's not for the better, because the former is what the setting is really all about. But regarding Snape, I think the reason his reception wasn't anticipated is because he's probably one of the archetypes most directly translated; when figuring him into the more serious narrative, much more resonance slipped through.

Anyway! I really wanted to know whether it was DHr or SHr that you were into because I find which of those people ship to be interesting lol. It makes much more sense that SHr fits into your BatB paradigm, though I have definitely read plenty of renderings of DHr which play into that idea--- those tend to lean into inventing more complexity for Draco than there are in the books, though, and yeah I would say on average DHr leans much more rivalshipping. I know what you mean about being picky with fic and slipping into something more casual since that's basically the majority of my fandom experience. If I'm genuinely serious about something (e.g. most of my OTP's) I have to write the fic myself lmao. Reylo is probably the one exception to that where I never ended up writing very much just because canon was So Good screams and there were a rare few handful of fics which leant more into that characterisation we both seem to prefer--- I generally just enjoyed daydreaming with Reylo and theorising than anything else lol.

Anyway, good tidings on your fandom adventures and thank you for indulging my nosiness ✨

Yeah, pretty much. People seem to want to group HP with high fantasy and it has no business there, but you can see where the impulse comes from. It's structurally unsound because of the war plot and heavier themes clearly not fitting into the whacky boarding school setting. The genre conventions do not get along with what she's trying to do with the war and it leads to bigger and bigger problems as the plot progresses.

I think them being classmates who have known each other as peers since childhood fundamentally changes the stakes and makes your job pretty difficult as far as trying to set up a B&tB dynamic. They're much more suited to doing a play on Romeo and Juliet. Where with SSHG, half the work is already done for you, the set up is built in, all you need is a reason to force them to spend time together.

I did end up needing to write my own reylo fic for exactly this reason lol. That, and the fandom refusing to provide Ben resolution with Luke. But the reylo AU machine is fantastic, a nigh-endless font of stories to read.

[bunnqis]

- Day 1: "You look familiar"

Ft. Draco Malfoy and Alondra (oc) in their fifth year

a/n. This isn't a ship!! I'm not shipping my oc with Draco!! Besides that, there isn't much I should say, besides the fact that it's a bit bad since I haven't written in a while </3 and that it isn't proof read, since I already want to have this finished. This was really fun, and I'm excited to do the rest of the prompts for the rest of October :) oh, and, I promise that I'll do day 2 and 3 tomorrow so I can like be on time :^

Summary. Alondra had the same nightmare that she's been having for years. She got out of bed, deciding to take a small stroll around the Slytherin common room to see if it tires her. Little did she know, a "friend" was already there, seeming to be restless as well.

Word count. 631

The Slytherin common room was quiet and desolate, or so Alondra thought. As she made it to the last step at the bottom of the stairs, she saw a recognizable color of hair. "What are you doing up so late, Alondra?" Asked Draco, his gaze remaining on the fireplace, enjoying the warmth it's emitting. "I could ask the same thing to you, Draco" replied Alondra, walking over to the sofa Draco was sitting on. She sits opposite to Draco, her gaze fixed on him as his is on the burning wood in front of them.

"You haven't answered my question", "neither have you", "I asked first" Alondras eyes narrowed and her mouth shut. Having known Draco for a couple of years, she has learned that Draco is on a whole other level of stubborn. "I had a bad dream" admitted Alondra, as she watched Draco's plain expression change. "Does wittle Alondra want a bottle of warm mwilk?" Asked Draco with a baby voice, turning to face Alondra as a sneering smile grows on his face. She rolls her eyes and scoffs, "What are you doing up?", "would you believe me if I told you that I snuck out and saw Potter leave professor umbridges office, his hand covered in blood?".

That's how their conversation turned from a small conversation, to a whole two hours of just gossip. "So you're saying that you've been following Harry and his friends, to see if they've started their own little group?" Asked Alondra, raising an eyebrow out of curiosity. "Pretty much, he thinks he's sooo sneaky, always disappearing near the room of requirements. I'm going to catch him one day, mark my words." Draco sounded determined, it was a bit funny to Alondra. "Want to know what people call this? An obsession. It seems to me that Malfoy has a thing for Harry" teases Alondra, a sly smile growing on her face. Draco's jaw clenches, as he glares at Alondra. "How dare you even think that I would even like Potter." said Draco, clearly offended over Alondras comment.

After a couple minutes of silence between the two, Draco's voice is heard again, "What was so bad in your dream, that it made you come here for a bottle of warm milk" asked Draco, as he glimpses at Alondra. She looks at him confused, not having expected being asked that by Draco. "It's just a dream I've had for years, since I was a kid I've been having this same nightmare. I can never put into words as to what it is, or what people are saying.", Mumbled Alondra, "I've been able to understand a bit as to what the people in my dream are saying, but it's still difficult." She shrugs as she leans back onto the sofa, closing her eyes and exhaling.

Their conversation is then changed by Draco, them now talking about the day they met. "Y'know, when I first met you, you looked familiar." Says Alondra, as she looks at Draco, "you still seem familiar, if you know what I mean. When I first saw you, i could've sworn I've seen you before. Now, I know why you're so familiar to me" a sly grin appears on her face, before continuing her comment, "it's because you look like those cliche 'bullies' in every highschool muggle movie" laughs Alondra. Draco's eyes narrowed at the comment Alondra made about him, but he just laughs it off. "Haha, very funny.", "right? Honestly, I should be a comedian. I think if I hadn't known about this whole wizard world, I would've been a comedian" says Alondra as a smile plays on her lips. The two of them stay there, sitting on the sofa until they eventually drift off to sleep for the remaining of the night.

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