#i have to search for a s pen now

[nezpaper]

im on vacation and my s pen decided its the perfect time to kill itself. the nib is apparently not working properly. like are u fucking kidding me. i have to press real hard and i dont want to damage the screen bc of that. Aaaagghh

[taviokapudding]

This year my dad found & gave me the Montblac my mom misplaced in 2016 that was supposed to be my deceased grandpa’s uni graduation gift; yesterday I got to draw for the first time in 3yrs without pain & inked a Diluc with the $500 pen

I ordered normal pens right after, it’s okay to laugh and cry

I know my old man is upstairs probably cackling because he used to doodle with his fountain pens. And also I’m relieved I can still draw & didn’t lose all my skills but the numbing in my shoulder has now evolved to soreness so I’ll try to draw once a week to build those muscles up again. Tldr my dominant arm is low key fighting the urge to slide outta my arm socket because in 2019 I fell and tore my trapezius muscle next to my spine with the hold the size of my hand. Tbh I only have a functioning right arm purely out of spite & self recovery since then & only until recently don’t suffer from the debilitating pain anymore but anyways.

The way I just 💀 upon realizing the ink refills are $20 & I bought 30 pens for the same price. And like y’all don’t understand, I re-inked the drawing 3 times to build up the depth between the Five & Below $5 color pencil layers. That’s like $4-$8 in total

I knew it was expensive but I never looked into it until my dad saw what I was doing and busted out laughing because apparently he did the same mistake when he graduated law school.

My first drawing in 3 yrs accidentally turned my sketchbook into an physical asset because of the fucking pen and I gotta save up to buy the refills down the road because THE INK WAS SO NICE TO DRAW WITH *punches air* I HATE THAT IT WAS A GOOD EXPERIENCE OH FUCK ME

[mayullla]

Quest: Farmers need help at the barn

Character(s): Harpy (Unnamed character/original work) Summary: You are an adventurer, taking up missions and quests in the guild. And this you choose to help out a monster barn, unknown to you that a certain feathered monster thought of you as his mate. Tags/Warnings: Yandere!monster, fem!reader, general yandere themes, violence (murder, etc), monster slavery, mating/courting rituals, possessive behavior, blood, human x monster romance, misunderstandings, obsessive monster

"I am so sorry! We had opened the cop for the harpies so that we could go and collect their eggs but it seems that one was sneaky enough to get out of the cage and run away!!" 

Arriving at the farm you were immediately greeted with a farmer, tall and gruff, certainly strong enough to deal with monsters yet panicked as one had escaped the pen, and with barely enough staff currently he definitely needed help.

"I am really sorry, we will pay you more for the trouble." The farmer said asking you to search for the harpy that got away. It was a monster after all and with a human village near here, you could not help but become a little concerned. 

"We also have someone else looking for the harpy right now, if needed and the harpy had placed humans in danger the guy has a bow ready to shoot." He had told you that the monster ran away to the forest and could not have gone far away as they were able to land a shot on its wing. He gave you a map and guided you to the gate of the forest, leaving just as soon.

Except you were not sure if you were really going the right way!! 

You looked at the map and frowned. You have been walking around the forest for what felt like hours now and just could not find the harpy that escaped!

Sighing as you looked at the sun still up so high you wondered if you would be stuck here searching for this monster the whole day. Really you hoped that it would end as soon as possible so that you could finally go home or maybe get a quest that won't cost you to circle the forest tens of times...

"Grrr..." You looked behind you, ready to attack whatever creature that made that sound in the forest. Yet nothing showed themselves to you as you constantly hear the growls and somehow had a mix of pain with it. Heading towards the sound as cautiously as possible you found a hidden cave and cautiously went in.

You were surprised to find a harpy in the dark dreary place. And you also noticed that one of his wings was bleeding. An arrow wound you were sure was done by a hunter and another one on its thigh.

It was easy to connect the dots somewhat, the harpy met the hunter somewhere in the forest and managed to get away but the hunter still managed to get his thigh with an arrow. He hid himself, unable to fly back to his home and also started screeching at night to ward off any predators that could have found him.

He glared at you as he dragged himself deeper into the small cave to get away from you. Screeching in hopes that you would become afraid and run away. But instead, you slowly went over to him, with a soft voice trying to calm it down. "Hey, it is fine... You will be alright."

It didn't trust you at all but after offering it a bit of food and encouraging words and with time, still cautious of you he finally let you come closer. You tried to be careful when applying ointment and bandaging up his wing and then later his thigh, one wrong move can get you clawed by the monster. 

It seemed very used to humans, you were at first sure that it would take longer to calm the harpy down but that doesn't seem the case when it looked so innocently at you after you finished bandaging it.

You knew that this was a monster. But right now rather than a wild monster it was more tamed and rather than you fearing him it feared you even more. But work is work, and this was a job that you must do. Your kindness was till this point cause rather than sending the harpy back to the farm still bleeding you prefer that the bird got bandaged up.

Less mess.

"There you go.." you whispered to the male harpy as you slowly backed away from him. He looked at the bandaged wing in wonder, examining it. He then looked at you curiously as to why you would help him.

Harpy feathers, depending on the color and quality can go for a lot of money even more if it was the whole wing itself. A lot of humans search for such monsters wanting to capture them if they were wild creatures. You knew that yourself, when you were helping the creature you knew that this particular harpy has definitely been hunted young or bred and then sold by the farm for his beautiful feathers.

You shrugged at his actions. "You are hurt." You whispered at it wondering if it would actually understand what you said while some harpies from what you heard can speak human language; this one in particular didn't seem to be able to do so much. Moments like these you thought of those books where the main character would tell the monster to run away and that this was its chance to do so but that wasn't you. You needed him back at that farm.

"Th-thank you..."

You were taken back a little when you heard the monster's voice looking up at him. "Huh...?" "T-thank you."

...You weren't able to stand his genuine yet still mildly confused eyes, choosing to look away. As you headed out of the cave not looking back, sure that the harpy would not come back to attack you. For once you felt guilty. You took a moment to collect yourself ready to get him to the farm when you heard bushes rustle. Pulling out your dagger you were ready to attack when you saw the same farmer this morning along with someone else.

"You are here! Good that we found you! The hunter here was able to land a shot on the harpy's thigh again while it was escaping from him and we followed the blood." The farmer told you, also saying something about his part in the farm work being finished, that he was able to come here and help.

You told them that the harpy they were looking for was inside the cave and that there were no other exits other than here. You told them you bandaged up the monster but it still should not be able to move much. "Thanks a bunch! You are a lifesaver." The farmer continued, "You head back to the farm, we will take care of everything here."

Looking back as they entered the cave you wondered if this counted as betrayal. You weren't sure, but rather than mulling it over you left the place.

From what you have heard the farmer and hunter were able to successfully get the harpy back to the farm. After that trip to the forest, you had a few odd jobs here and there on the farm, not a lot of dealing with the monsters as you need to be specially trained for most of those kinds of work but more so packaging the raw materials and loading them up on the carts to be shipped.

You didn't know that something started to follow you ever since that day. Eyes watching you as you move cans of milk from one side to another, or move and clean the wool shaved off from the weresheeps. Maybe if you noticed those eyes you would have done something about it, but you didn't and by the time you realized it was far too late.

It was one of those small clearings, the bell rang signaling a break for lunch. Under the tree, it shaded you away from the sun you sat to eat your sandwich that the farm provided. The sun was so hot against your skin that it made you work quite a sweat.

"Care if I join you?" The gruff voice made you jump in surprise as you looked to your side to see the same man you saw who was together with the farmer in the forest. It was the hunter you thought to yourself as you gave him a place to sit. 

"Hey, thanks for the help last time. Because of you the harpy had his guard lowered and we were able to capture him without much of a problem. That guy is a little smart for its own good." The hunter introduced himself, stating that he was also an adventurer like you but would help this farm often when they needed some hands as he was friends with the owner.

You chatted for a while, and you found out that the hunter was a married man with a daughter and a wife who was pregnant with another child. "My daughter is a pretty girl. She also wants to become an adventurer like me. I should introduce the two of you when we have the chance" The hunter joked that it would be nice that his little daughter had a lady who she could look up to.

The hunter looked excited as he also had another daughter and told you how he could not help but spoil his daughter whenever he could. He was hoping that he will have another daughter but his wife wished it would be a boy instead. The hunter, while intimidating looking, was actually more easygoing and casual.

"Oop! That is the bell." You heard the rattle of the bell notifying everyone that you guys need to head back to work. "You have been working here for a bit. How long are you staying?" The hunter asked curiously. You told him that today was your last day, that everything here was under control now. "Ahh, then it is back to the quest for you I guess. Hahah! Well. It was nice to meet ya." The hunter also stated that you guys might see each other probably on another mission or at the guild.

Getting up first, he took his leave having something to do leaving you alone under the tree again. Before getting up you quickly checked your mouth for any crumbs or food that was stuck. Grabbing your mirror from your bag you also checked your teeth. When your name was called by one of the farmers, you hurried. Getting up you shoved your compact mirror into your bag but were unable to properly close your bag being in a hurry.

You didn't see your small compact mirror fall out from your bag, hitting the grass floor as you head inside with the farmer. 

When you came back later to look for the mirror after finding out that it was not in your bag you could not find it anywhere...

More precisely it has been swatted away by a certain harpy who was watching you. Keeping the thing close to their chest, with a flush look on their face hoping that he would not be caught yet at the same time hoping he would just so that you would look at him again. But he can't at least not yet.

You finally went back home, after the last long day of working at the barn. Your pay was a little more than the contract, as the owner was generous from the booming business right now. You were ready to hit the bed and after a shower and a lovely dinner, you flopped on your bed.

Your body was relaxed, as you slowly went to dreamland when you suddenly heard a noise outside your window. Opening your eyes you moved to get ready, but you were too slow when the window opened and a black feathered monster rushed in jumping on top of you.

You struggled, but claws caught your arms preventing you from hitting anyone or even getting your dagger from your table side. "Mate!" You heard a chirp and looked up to get a good look at the thing that had you on its hold.

Your eyes widen and your body froze.

You recognize him, the harpy that you bandaged up on the first day of work at the barn. The black feathers and the awkward voice still struggle to follow human speech. Yet unlike before rather than cautious and feral, he was more ecstatic and eager to see you. Impatiently moving your arms as he wrapped his wings around you as if it was trying to hug you.

"Accept.... shiny g-gift... from mate..." His words were hesitant and slow in between chirps. But he wasn't shy, not with how shamelessly he clung to you. Cuddling so tightly as if to get the scent of him on you, rubbing his face under your neck while looking at you with hearts in his eyes when you looked down at him in surprise. "Mate likes... me!"

"What!?" You yelled in confusion, as you tried to shove him away to no avail. There was something wet on his shoulders and chest, something that you could not see properly in the darkness till your eye finally got used to the night. You were terrified.

You could not help but squeak when you saw it. The scent that you smelled from the harpy when he suddenly showed up did you finally understand what that red liquid on his face actually meant. His claws held your wrist preventing you from pushing away. The more you tried to leave the more tight his claws around you became. The heart in his eyes dimmed as he didn't understand why you were trying to push away from him.

"Why...why are you... why are you avoiding me." His voice was angry, a growl-like chirp produced as he forced you back to the bed. You didn't answer yet he followed your eyes and noticed you were looking at the blood on his cheek.

"Hunter... want to kill... me." He glared at you causing you to flinch. Looking away from him to your room, your weapons were too far away for you to grab and swat the harpy away. Regret as you didn't keep at least your dagger close to you. "Hunter... want to kill you... I.... save... you."

Your body felt as if it was growing cold as the harpy chirped in delight. His love-filled eyes back as he thought that you now understand and that you would love him back for doing the same favor for you after you saved him. 

The hunter did not want to kill you. You knew at least that much. Yet that same man was killed by the very harpy that he hunted, the one that you have helped.

“I… save you. I love… you. You love me.”

[lovelybee666]

What if Smiling Critters learned that their s/o has a baby nephew or niece and has to care of them just one day ?

Autor's note: At the moment I will only do Dogday, Catnap, Kickin and Bobby but I promise to do a second part soon where the others are.

Smiling Critters care of the baby nephew of their S/O part 1

(part 2, very soon!)

DOGDAY

• This is a piece of cake for Dogday!...kinda

• Everything started well, you left and he introduced himself to your nephew, your nephew didn't understand anything but it wasn't important.

• Dogday thought about the following activities and wrote them on a piece of paper (it looked like some weird Chinese letter) while watching your nephew.

• But doing so many things began to exhaust him, he wrote a letter and watch your nephew, over and over again.

• Dogday's eyes started to get heavy and he ended up falling asleep.

• When he woke up you were in front of him laughing.

• The poor dog was confused, he didn't understand what was happening until he saw himself in a mirror...

• BRO, HE HAD FROM HIS NECK TO THE TIPS OF HIS EARS STRIPED WITH PENS, PAINT, CRAYONS AND MORE.

• He spent a long time trying to remove the marker and paint but it turned out to be permanent so he had to go to the mechanic with too much shame.

CATNAP

• Don't do it please

• At least if you are there or Dogday, BUT ALONE??

• Catnap looks at your nephew in silence, your nephew looks at him and starts crying

• Catnap panicked and was trying to calm your nephew without putting them to sleep.

• He is aware of what his gas produce and the nightmares, if your nephew wakes up after the nightmare it would be even worse than now.

• Catnap tried to cradle your nephew but they continued to cry.

• Imagine Catnap with a child in his arms, smiling nervously and probably with his heart about to jump out of place.

• He starts shaking the child because he has no idea what to do, normally he put the children sleep but this was YOUR nephew and he couldn't just do that.

• Plus, if you find out that he used his red gas to put them to sleep, he'll have a good time with the mechanic.

• Catnap left your nephew on the couch and went to get some apple or something for your nephew, he came back and started feeding your nephew, he didn't even cut the apple...

• when you came home you see Catnap about to feed your baby nephew a WHOLE, unwashed apple.

• Your nephew will probably be horribly afraid of Catnap after that.

KICKINCHIKEN

"leave it to me, S/O!"

• that was Kickin's last words before he died (just kidding)

• Right now he's with a hyperactive child making messes all over the place.

"WAIT, DON'T PUT THAT FORK INTO THE OUTLET!"

"NO, THE PAINT THAT CRAFTYCORN MAKE FOR HOURS, NO"

"HOW DID YOU GET TO THE ROOF—"

• Bro, he's suffering too much

• Normally the children were calm BUT YOUR NEPHEW?? IT'S WORSE THAN DOGDAY AND HOPPY.

• your nephew is hungrier than Picky and scarier than Catnap.

• H O W ?

• There is too much chaos and from outside everyone can hear Kickin's screams and your nephew that breaks everything in their path.

• He's praying for you to arrive soon and as soon as you arrive, he stands behind you like a scared cat.

• Same as Catnap, DON'T LEAVE HIM ALONE WITH YOUR NEPHEW.

BOBBY BEARHUG

• Thousand level overprotective bear.

• she spends the whole day with your nephew in her arms.

• No matter what you ask of her, they will always be in her arms.

• If she let go and they disappear, she enter the next level of maximum anxiety.

• she's looking everywhere, she even went with Mommy Long Legs for some reason.

• she asks everyone she sees around for help while she searches.

• When she finds them, she relaxes 100% and leaves them sleeping.

• You can leave her alone with your nephew😌 almost no problems✨

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙛𝙤𝙘𝙪𝙨 ♡︎

anon asked: babes can i pls request sub!albedo? just teasing him and making him unable to do his work lives in my head rent free

characters: sub!albedo x nb!dom!reader

warnings: handjob, fingering, degrading and praising mixed together lol, rough sex, dacryphillia, edging, dumbification, size kink, exhibitionism (i forgot the word for it and had to search it on google), reader is completely nb so the cock part can be interpreted as a strap on!!

notes: this was actually meant to be posted like 2 days ago i think??? but i caught a cold and had sudden exams coming up while still having a fever lmao. also here have this 1.8k words of smut bc i re edited it and made it longer after seeing a bunch of mf sub reader on my tumblr fyp. tumblr give me dom reader on my fyp bc this is my revenge

you can flag it as mature all you want you coward tumblr but i ALWAYS COME BACK

the chief alchemist, kreideprinz, mondstadt genius, captain of the investigation team of the knights of favonius - albedo has many names however his most favorite, as lewd as it may be, would be [name]’s pretty cockslut.

the blond always liked that nickname. it slipped out of your mouth once accidentally during an incredibly messy sex between you two and since then it has been stuck in the alchemist’s mind like a dog on a leash. and now was no exception.

it was just a simple day in mondstadt. the chief alchemist being cuddled in his office in kof headquarters while sitting on the lap of his lover, scribbling away at on his notebook of his latest experiment and the results with furrowed eyebrows - trying to stay focused but always failing and ending up thinking of that one goddamn word.

it was just a slip of the tongue, an accident from his lover during a heated session. his darling apologized afterwards of course but the alchemist just can’t help his mind lingering on that single word. breathing starting to get heavier, doughy thighs rubbing together with his ears flushed - trying to refocus on his work before failing miserably with a groan.

upon hearing his distressed noise, you let out a confused hum. rubbing small circles into his waist to help him destress - where your arms are wrapped around - you left a small peck onto the back of his neck with a low mumble of what’s wrong.

“nothing my love. i just… can’t seem to focus on my work” he answered back. his other hand coming up to pat you on the head - ruffling your hair a bit in the process - while also hoping that you wouldn’t notice him getting hard. archons he was a mess. getting aroused by just the thought of a simple word? how pathetic.

unfortunately for the alchemist, you noticed. glancing down at his thighs clenched closely together, making the small bulge in his shorts almost unnoticeable if you were to simply glance over. almost.

“oh? what’s this? is my pretty prince getting hard over a simple act as cuddling?” moving your hands to hold his waist, you ground him down on your crotch making the blond gasp. hands flying up to cover his mouth with a frantic nerve yet also lust swimming in his eyes, albedo looked back at you as if asking you what you’re thinking with a faux glare.

“focus on your work darling. don’t you dare stop writing” letting out a low groan next to his ear, your hand guided his dominant one to grab his pen once more. after hearing him curse lowly with his fingers wrapped around the ink filled pen, you slipped your other hand past the waistbands of his shorts.

jolting when your finger touched the tip of his already hard cock, albedo felt his face burning up more, hands twitching, making a mistake on his experiment report. you let out a chuckle at that. sweet chalk prince making a mistake on his reports? an unusual thing indeed.

rubbing the precum oozing out of the slit of his already hardened cock, you heard him muffle his groan but still continuing to write his work. pulling away from his weeping dick, you heard albedo let out a disappointed whine before letting out a loud gasp, bucking his hips when your lubed up hand grabbed ahold of his hardened cock once more.

“mmfgh! [n-name], my lo-oohh… my aammh f-fuck! let me wo-oRKK MFFGH!!” bucking his hips to try and keep up with the thrusts of your hand, albedo threw his head back to rest on your shoulder. eyes screwed shut, hand clenching around his pen in a vice grip while panting and whining - archons your prince was so pretty.

“focus ‘bedo. wouldn’t want your work to be forgotten right?” sucking a dark hickey into his neck, your hand jerked him off at a faster pace. he let out a loud whine at that. shaking knees closing up as if trying to get you to stop so he can just focus but his bucking hips was telling you the truth of him wanting to chase after his approaching high.

letting out a delicious sob, the chief alchemist bent over the table. twitching and shaking as he soon spilled his load on your hand. peeking back at you with a shy glance and red cheeks, albedo reached one hand back, tugging on your pants frantically as if asking for his most favorite treat.

getting his hint you stood up, pushing the alchemist to lay on his stomach on the desk while taking off his shorts and lowering your pants and undergarments’ waistband.

“oh? have you become a cockslut for me my pretty prince? not wearing any underwear under your usual stockings now hmm?” tearing a small hole over his cute pink rim, you heard the man in question let out a loud whimper at that.

“getting desperate for me, my pretty slut?” albedo shook his head timidly. biting down on his lips in a desperate way to stop himself from moaning when hearing you call him such a lecherous name. it was so wrong, he knew that but it just turned him on even more! making his cock twitch and knees buckle as if being called something like that was something he was used to.

using his cum as a make shift lube, you pushed a finger into his cute pink hole - hearing him whine at the feeling of your finger filling him up so deliciously, so easily. after wiggling your fingers for a while you felt his walls start to loosen - a sign that he was starting to relax and get used to the feeling - before adding one more finger. scissoring him open while hearing his adorable high pitched whimpers is always a nice way to de-stress. loosening him more and more, you felt around his tight muscle, searching for that one spongy spot that makes his pretty blue eyes roll to the back of his skull as he lets out a surprised shrieks of pleasure. ah! found it.

abusing his prostate with your fingers as you hear him let out cute, almost girlish, breathy moans was the best thing you could ask for. he always reacts so adorably - pushing his hips back into your hand with a fervor want, knees buckling under him as his bare hands scratch against the desk with some hope of grounding his mushy mind.

“aah mmfgh awWHH~!! [n-name]~ don’t… don’t tea-aammfg!! tease me!♡︎♡︎” letting out another squeal, albedo turned his face around to look at you. hair messy with sweat clinging to his forehead, cheeks a shiny red of hue and eyes hazy with lust. archons he looks fucking delicious.

pushing him to lay on the desk again you pulled out your fingers - making him whine at the sudden emptiness as his loosened rim clenches and unclenches around empty air - before he let out a loud sob at the feeling of your tip pushing inside his loose hole. looking down at the mess of a genius you made, a smirk slipped on your face as an idea popped up.

“hey ‘bedo. what type of mixture is blood?” stopping after only slipping the tip of your cock in you stopped to ask him a question. he let out a confused noise before stuttering out “a h-heterogeneous mixtur-EEP!♡︎” as you slipped your cock halfway in. archons you were only fucking halfway in and yet he could already feel your cock bumping into all the perfect spots inside him. he’s just so sure that if he were to slip his hand down to his tummy he would feel a bulge. one that is caused by you!

“then if you were to mix acetic acid and water what would you get?” fuck were you being serious right now? albedo just wants to be fucked silly by you and not think of something so useless dammit!

“… vinegar” letting out a huff, he replied back. tone becoming annoyed and sarcastic before he let out a sharp gasp, clawing at the edge of the desk tightly when you shoved the rest of your dick inside him, the tip of your cock kissing his prostate so fucking nicely.

“good job. so if i were to mix up potassium nitrate, sulfur and carbon what would i get hmm?” letting out a stuttered curse under his breath to try and get his bearings back together to answer your question, albedo inhaled sharply before giving you your answer.

“f-fuck… it’s aamff… g-gunpowder mmngg!! p-please? please? [name] just fuck me already~ ple-ase!! i’ll be so good! pleA-GYAANH!!♡︎” letting out a shriek, the genius held on tightly to the edge of the desk. knees giving away from under him, leaving him to lean his body limply on his office desk as you grip his waist - slamming into his prostate with a groan over and over - using him as if he was a your personal cocksleeve, which he sure was turning into by now.

the room turned hotter, his breath being cut short by his own whiny sobs, tears rolling down his cheeks as a thin line of saliva ran down his jaw with pretty heart shaped pupils rolling to the back of his skull. he was completely spent. head dizzy and mushy, his sensitive spot being abused by you so easily as he tries to cling on to the small thread of his mind but failing in the process.

“a-aangh… albedo… what is f-fuck! the compound of water?” leaning your full body weight on his shaking body, you pistoned your hips to slam into his at a faster pace - feeling him tighten around you more and more, getting closer to cumming again. he couldn’t respond this time, only garbled whines and unintelligible sobs being your answer. letting out a sigh of disappointment you stopped moving, cock halfway pulled out as he whimpered loudly. trashing his trembling legs under the desk as a protest, trying and failing miserably to push his hips back to you.

after a while of a sex drunk protest, he seemed to gain a small sense of mind, whispering out “h-hydrogen and oxyge-ene…” in an almost unnoticeable small voice. hmm, perhaps he deserves his reward.

continuing to thrust into his spongy sensitive spot, you heard him let out a tired whimper - completely drained by your teasing and edging - letting out a long drawn sob of what seems to be your name, the alchemist came over his desk soon followed by your warm seeds filling him up. shaking legs failing to keep him up as he leaned against you for support as he felt you holding his waist close to yourself, flopping back down on the chair of his office while cuddling him close, uncaring that anyone could easily walk into his office at the moment.

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [THE INBETWEEN] - IN LOVING MEMORY

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.9k] A week after John B and Sarah were lost at sea, you and JJ navigate a new living situation and unsuccessfully avoid the inevitable grief process, leading to a private memorial as you honor a fallen brother.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, grief avoidance

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I think these little 3-chapter pauses between each season are gonna be my favorite things because it focuses sooo much more on just TR and JJ <3 but this first one really focuses on their grief over John B

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

IT’D BEEN A WEEK SINCE JOHN B AND SARAH DISAPPEARED. Shoupe said that the department wasn’t calling the search off just yet but you knew they weren’t looking. There’d been no updates, no boats out on the water — it was as if the entire station had retired. 

Metal clanked against wood as JJ set the wrench down on the work table — music playing lowly in the background as the blonde worked on your car. The two of you were in John B’s Surf Shack at The Chateau, the car halfway pulled in so JJ could work outside of the heat, but the sun was relentless. The hood was flipped up as the boy inspected and toyed with the parts — sweat dripping down his forehead from his damp strands of hair, shirt long abandoned as he stood only in a pair of army green cargo shorts and his signature worn-down, unlaced combat boots, shark tooth dangling from his neck.

“Are you gonna keep staring or do you wanna help?” JJ asked, leaning his hands on the exterior of the car, eyes squinting from the sun as he looked up at your figure that was sitting on top of the worktable, feet swinging as you watched him.

“When I tried to help, you told me to, and I quote, ‘sit my unhelpful ass down somewhere’.” You reminded the boy, cocking your head as you took a sip of the beer you’d retrieved from the house. 

“Maybe because when I asked you to hand me the box end wrench and you handed me a pair of pliers?” He sassed back, standing from his leaned over position and walking closer to you, snatching up his own beer and taking a long swig. 

You shrugged. “Same difference.”

“Hate to break it to you, princess, but no it's not.” JJ chuckled, leaning against the work table. His eyes drifted down to where you were scratching your ankle as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I told you like ten times to stop scratchin’ it. It ain’t gonna help.” He reprimanded, setting the beer down and taking your ankle in his hands, leveling it in front of him.

You groaned as he swatted your hand away. “But it itches, so bad.” You whined. “Probably because you did it with a needle and pen ink.” You pouted, both of you inspecting the small, scraggly ‘P4L’ tattoo on your ankle. “How come yours doesn’t itch?” You asked, referring to the matching tattoo the blonde had done on himself.

“It does.” He told you, pulling out a small thing of vaseline from his shorts and scooping some up on one of his fingers. “I’m just not a pussy.” He joked, side-eyeing you as he gently applied the jelly over the artwork. 

Just then, Marley came running into the shack, almost knocking JJ off of his feet. You bursted out into a fit of laughter as the blonde steadied himself, staring down the dog. “You fuckin’ mutt…” He muttered, letting your leg swing back towards you gently. 

“Hey,” You warned, plucking his arm. “Watch it, or I’ll have her piss on your pillows.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He waved off, walking out of the shack and into the afternoon sun. "I'm takin' a breather from your piece of shit on wheels. That thing needs way more than TLC..." He told you over his shoulder. You quickly hopped off the table and followed after him, whistling for Marley to follow your lead.

"Don't blame my car because you have the skills of a mechanic from Craigslist." You defended as JJ led you all the way down to the boat pier behind The Chateau, both of you sitting down on the wood, kicking off your shoes to let your toes hit the water. Marley laid down behind you two.

He chuckled lightly before you fell into silence. That’d been happening a lot lately. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. In the week you and JJ had been learning to live together at The Chateau, you’d grown to just sit in silence with him. Quiet mornings, lazy nights. Neither of you had to speak or force a conversation — just bask in the company of one another, knowing you still had someone. 

There were days like this — where things seemed almost normal, but only for a moment. But then it was as if you’d both simultaneously realize that nothing was normal and it probably never would be ever again, that realization never failed to cast a cloud over the atmosphere.

John B was gone. He wasn’t on another marathon from DCS, he wasn’t out cleaning boats to keep the lights on at The Chateau — he was just gone. And something inside of you felt so empty. Ever since you were kids, toddlers, it was always you, John B, and JJ. And even when you made each other mad or sad, you always came back together in the end.

Now, it was just the two of you. Sure, you had Kie and Pope but that was different. John B was their friend too but there was a deeper grief that they couldn’t understand. But JJ could.

“You remember, in third grade, when John B asked out that girl and she told him no ‘cause he had cooties?” JJ asked, a small smile on his features as he stared down at the water. You laughed, shaking your head.

“And when he tried to hug her she screamed and the teacher gave him a lecture about consent.” You laughed, looking up at the sun. “But maybe he needed it. I remember after, he apologized and shook her hand instead.”

“She still wouldn’t go out with him, though.”

“You wanna know something funny?” You asked, turning to face him as he looked at you. “I ran into her when I moved to Figure Eight. She lives on the lower end now. It’s so crazy because she ended up getting chlamydia from some guy and then passed it to his best friend.”

“Holy shit.” JJ laughed loudly, his bright smile on full display. You wished to see his smile like that more often. JJ usually tried to seem happy and carefree, but it was a sight to see when it was genuine. As his laughter died out, he had a look of contemplation on his face.

You nudged his shoulder to gain his attention. “What're you thinkin' about?”

He bit the inside of his cheek for a moment, eyes scanning your face. You didn’t know what for. Then he reached into the pocket of his shorts, hand fishing around for a moment before he pulled out something — a pastel green dog collar with a heart shaped named tag. He laid the object out in his grease covered palm and extended it over for you to see.

Your eyes fleeted between the collar and his face, a look of nervousness as he avoided your eyes. Taking it from his hand to hold in both of yours, you huffed out a laugh. There were ridges on the edges, as if the fabric of the collar had been hand-cut. “...Did you make this yourself?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” He dismissed, scratching the back of his neck and attempting to seem nonchalant about the gesture. “I wasn't doing shit, got bored. If you, uh, if you turn it over-” You wasted no time, flipping the name tag to the other side, eyes landing first on the ‘if lost, please call…” note then drifting lower to see ‘P4L’ engraved in the metal beneath your phone number.

“Um, yeah that.” JJ finished. “It’s honestly nothing. It's fine if you think its stupid, I just figured-”

He never got to finish his nervous rambling as you pulled the boy into a hug. His arms staggered before hugging you back, going around your waist and almost pulling you into him. “Thank you.” You mumbled into his neck. "And it's not stupid. I love it." You could feel small tears leaving your eyes and making home on his sweaty skin, you just hoped he didn’t notice.

“Are you crying?” He asked, pulling back from the embrace and taking your face in his hands. “Oh, shit. Please, don’t cry.” He panicked, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks, leaving grease trails behind in their wake, the gesture making you chuckle sadly.

You don’t know what made you cry. You hadn’t cried in a full week. “Sorry, sorry...it's just that everything is so messed up.” You sniffed. “I wish I could go back to last year. Before my dad died, before all that shit with Rafe, before my mom became someone else, before John B...” You choked out, trying to remove your face from his hands but he wouldn’t let you. “If finding the gold means losing the only people I have left one by one, then fuck it.”

“We don’t know if he’s, y'know.. they’re still looking-”

“No, they’re not.” You scoffed. “They just don’t want to tell us that. Because if they do, they know we’ll start looking for ourselves and they’ll have four more dead kids on their hands.” You doubted, struggling to hold back more tears. JJ simply used his hold on your face to pull your head into him. Something about the gesture made you burst out into sobs, muffled by his chest. Most people would find such a genuine, serious gesture from JJ Maybank odd or rare. But in all your years of knowing him, JJ understood emotions better than most people, he just lacked the ability to show them sometimes.

He was there when they found your dad’s body, all of your friends were. The police only let you through because you were his daughter but when the wind blew the tarp off of his bloated, pale body, JJ was the only one who threw all caution to the wind and ducked under the caution tape, weaved through like ten police officers and caught you before you fell to your knees in the sand.

JJ was one of the most empathetic people you knew, but he’d never cater to his own needs as much as he did for others.

“I miss him, too.” He said solemnly, taking a shaky deep breath. “Believe me, man.” He scoffed, but his voice wavered prompting you to lift your head to look up at him, sniffling. “Bree was my brother. I can’t even tell you how many times he was just there for me. He got me out of a lot of shit and I always gave him shit for it. He would always tell me he just didn’t want me to end up like my piece of shit father and I was always such a dick about it. I knew it was because he cared but I…” He sighed, wiping the stray tear that had fallen from his eye with the butt of his palm. “I just wish I had been a better friend. I know I get us into a lot of shit and I’m impulsive and-”

“You were a good friend.” You cut off his monologue of martyrdom, sitting up straighter to look at him directly, using one hand to cup the back of his neck as you spoke. “John B loved you. Yeah, he might’ve gotten a little pissed whenever you got all trigger happy-” You joked, eliciting a small laugh from JJ. “-But he always understood that’s just who you are. He always cared about you all the same. He would’ve done anything for you.”

“And now he’s…shit, he’s gone.” He sniffed, wiping under his nose as he avoided your eyes, a frown on his face. “And I don’t have anyone like that anymore.”

“You have me.” You smiled pitifully. “I may not be a six-foot, brunette male who's oddly obsessed with bandanas but I think I can fill his spot. Make it work, somehow.” You joked playfully.

JJ scoffed, shaking his head. “Nah, you have your own spot.” He told you, his blue eyes finally finding the courage to meet yours again. “No one could replace Bree. Or you. You were the two people I never wanted to lose in life. And now he’s gone and I don’t know what I’m feeling or what the fuck to do about it because I’ve never felt it before. And sure, I want to fight for him and get the gold back but now I’m scared that that might mean we lose someone else and I don't know what I’ll do if the person we lose is you.”

You shook your head, pressing your forehead against his. “You’ll never lose me. Even if I’m not here.” You reminded, fingers scratching at the hair on the nape of his neck. “And even if John B is gone gone, he’s still here. Probably telling us to grow a pair, right now.” You chuckled despondently, both of you somewhere between laughing and crying.

All of a sudden, a wet, rough tongue hit the side of both of your faces — Marley apparently feeling left out from the exchange. The action had the two of you pulling apart, shielding your faces from the attack of dog kisses. She was like a light, her typical high energy making you feel just a little less sad inside. “Alright, alright…” You said, lightly pushing the dog back as she panted and wagged her tail so fast it made her whole body wiggle.

Just then, you realized you still had JJ’s gift clutched in your palm, peering at the object before beckoning Marley to come closer and commanding her to sit. She was still panting, mouth open and tongue out as you buckled the collar around her neck, adjusting it to fit and spinning it so the heart tag sat where it was supposed to, her name engraved in JJ’s handwriting.

As soon as your hands were off of her, she turned her attention to JJ, burying her head in his lap and rolling over on her back, wanting the blonde to rub her stomach. It was like she knew he’d made it for her.

“She must like you.” You said, voice a bit scratchy now. 

JJ shrugged, caressing the animal’s stomach with a small smile on his face. “I guess she’s alright.” He trailed off playfully. You admired them for a moment, the sight making your nerves settle in a way they hadn’t been able to in the last seven days.

For a moment, everything was calm. This was peace.

“Hey, JJ?” You piped up, the boy’s eyes leaving the dog as he looked at you in a questioning manner. “I know we’re waiting on Kie and Pope to actually memorialize JB but would you want to do something, just me and you? Not to leave them out or anything, I just thought we could, I don’t know, mourn him differently. He was a part of us.”

He pondered on the idea for a moment before nodding. “Yeah… yeah, I think he’d like that.”

You simply nodded in response, getting up from the dock to go into The Chateau, not even bothering to put your shoes back on. Entering the house, you looked around for something that sparked an idea on how you could honor John B. You spotted an empty glass bottle — write a note and send it out to sea? No. That didn’t seem right. 

Still looking around, your eyes found two tealight candles on the coffee table, untouched and never lit. You hadn’t recalled them being there before. Picking up the two candles in one hand, you headed back outside, the sun beginning to set and casting an orange hue over the water in front of you the closer you got to JJ and Marley.

Sitting back down, you handed one of the candles to JJ. “Just something small.” You told him, the blonde taking the small candle from you and reaching into his pocket to retrieve the lighter he typically carried with him. Marley had her head in his lap, less energetic than she was just minutes prior. Her big, puppy eyes just watched the two of you light the candles as the sun got lower in the sky by the minute.

“Should we, like, say something before we let them go?” JJ asked, eyes on you. 

“It’s up to you.” You shrugged. Just then, Marley got up from his lap, running through the grass and to the trees. You didn’t bother to chase her, she always came back.

JJ’s fingers of his free hand drummed on his thigh as he thought. When he finally had something, he shifted his weight and held the candle carefully in his hand. “To Bree.” He started, voice shaking. “My best friend, my brother, and the unluckiest guy I’ve ever met. I promise to not pimp your shortboard.” He said, looking at the flame swaying from side to side, before looking at you, waiting for you to say something.

Your nerves jumped a bit, not really knowing what to say. You figured something was better than nothing. “To John B. One of my greatest friends, my trauma twin, and the best DCS fugitive I’ve ever met.” You spoke, looking out at the sunset. 

“Love you, man.” JJ finished, reaching his long arm down to gently set the candle on top of the water, watching it slowly drift away. You followed his lead, having to bend down a bit further to let the candle hit the water safely. Both of you sat silently, watching the two miniscule flames drift further out with the waves. You wondered how far they would make it before they went out.

Suddenly, the patter of paws came running back, Marley wedging her way between the two of you with a stick between her teeth. The dog got dangerously close to the edge of the pier you were sitting on before letting the stick drop from her jaws and hit the water, sitting down between you and JJ as she panted.

You heard about cats leaving gifts for people of significance, maybe this was her version of a candle. The action made you and JJ look at each other before laughing and hugging the dog in sync. She reveled in the attention, tail wagging ferociously.

You and your friends had a long way to go before anything would feel okay again. But just having each other was enough, right now. You couldn’t rush grief. You’d just have to let things take their course and hopefully one day, John B wouldn’t be such a sad memory.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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©loveharlow.

[staarri]

𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨 — 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡.

c.  scaramouche

character(s) are friends with reader, gn!reader, angsty-ish, scaramouche is still in the fatui, this is a work of fiction

      fluff     ,    love letter     .      word count : roughly 0.9k

t. @aventurne @tragedy-of-commons @yvnaology @nyoomiin

Scaramouche is not an easy man to love. He’s busy, constantly busy, awake even during the most ungodly hours of the night and constantly rubbing at his eyes from his exhaustion. It’s no surprise the Fatui are overworking him again. What’s funny is that he’s sitting at his desk, a pile of papers on the right side–all reports from his underlings–were unnoticed; all of it, even the chirping of the birds as the sun rose and showed the start of a new day, Scaramouche was stuck on a piece of paper in front of him with the words that reads, To my dearest.

There's no way he can capture your beauty on a cheap piece of parchment . He should’ve bought something expensive instead, like a new set of clothes he thinks you’ll like. But lately you’ve just seemed so distant. He needs to reach you somehow. You’ve been driven away by the lies his mouth spills and now, he’s suffering with the consequences, and not once will he ever say it to you, but he needs you to stick with him while he tries to better himself.

So here he is: a fountain pen in hand, wasting his time with something so.. childish. Who writes letters anyway, isn't it something you did as a child towards someone you liked? 

Call him a child then. Call him old-fashioned, traditional, and in love. Call him whatever you like, because in the end he’s yours, and he’s always been. 

He’s let his thoughts linger for too long and suddenly it's 7 am. His eyebags have never been worse and his mind is tired, not from his job, but from this stupid letter he’s made no progress on. To my dearest should be good enough, right? I mean, you were easy to please. He was sure that it would be more than enough for you. 

How tiring. He says, mindlessly scribbling on the paper, jet-black ink scattered all throughout and splattering around the words. Was he angry? Not at all. Frustrated, yes, but for a good reason–to think he did this just because you two were friends was infuriating. Shouldn’t you two be something more?

You were pretty, far too pretty for him to describe. Scaramouche thought his vocabulary was wide enough, but this letter alone has him searching for the words he once knew. Your eyes, leaving him feeling small in a never ending forest and your smile–god, your smile was intoxicating. It would give light to the things he’s been hiding from you this entire time. Your laugh–your voice, sweet and soft, loud and oh-so clear. How you’d bring it down to a whisper when you feel embarrassed about admitting something, how your nose scrunches up when you laugh or when your smile lines just seem so fitting for someone like you.

What was so special about you? 

You were like the sunset on the beaches, glowing. Absolutely stunning, ethereal, lighting everything in a bright orange, his eyes becoming a mix of brown and a dark blue. He’s different around you, he's a completely different person. From the color of his eyes to the racing of his heart, to the feeling that he wasn’t getting enough air whenever you hold his hand–but you’d do it in a friendly way. You don't squeeze his hand too tight, you let go when necessary and don’t leave any kind of touch lingering for far too long.

Scaramouche is not an easy man to love. He’s bad with words and he can’t tell you the things you want to hear;he can’t provide you with the touch you crave, he can’t make up his mind. One moment he’s thinking about just giving you a whole bag of mora for you to use for your next trip, the other he’s thinking about finishing this damn letter that has plagued his mind ever since you first whispered the fact you appreciate him.

There’s no way he can treat you right. There’s absolutely no way he will be perfect, that he’ll be the partner that’ll leave such a mark on you. But god, ask for the world and he will give it to you. Name one thing and when you wake up it's right at your nightstand. Choose the ring and its design, he’ll get a matching one that you yourself decided on as well. Just say the word because he is a child in love.

So here he is, an envelope in hand. Going to the nearest flower shop to buy something that will still wilt under the sun after a few days. He will not love, and can’t love the same way as you, but he will learn how to. 

Call him stupid;call him an idiot for falling for someone he knows is way too out of his league. But that’s all he is, and it's far too late to change that. He might lose you at some point, and that's really what scares him the most. 

Suddenly he’s standing at your doorstep, ringing the doorbell and you’d be confused who in the world decided to bring you a sunflower and a piece of envelope in the middle of the day–you don't recall ordering anything. 

He didn’t even get to sign it.  Maybe next time he can get it right… for his dearest.

characters belong to their respective companies. everything is written by staarri - do not steal, reupload, translate, modify or feed my work to ai.

[mysticallystilinski]

can u write a fluff where stiles has another panic attack and the reader is there to comfort him :D

trepidation | s. stilinski x fem!reader | fluff/angst

summary: you and stiles get trapped in the winter night of beacon hills, something may change it all

warnings: swearing, panic attacks, slight angst, anxiety, and mentions of harm

a/n: { hi! it’s lav, i hope you guys enjoy this, and please request more, as i’ve literally have no ideas.. }

trep·i·da·tion

noun: trepidation

a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen.

———————————————————

the night was cold as you held your hands in between your warm thighs. stiles was driving his jeep in the sleet, ice roads. the power previously went out, and now you and stiles were heading to the pack. before your phone died, lydia had called you when she sensed something was happening. she had a hard feeling in her conscience, but she couldn’t pinpoint on what it was exactly. her breathing fell short onto the phone as your battery level promptly went to zero.

“stiles, my phone died. do you have a charger?” you lifted your head up to catch the gaze of the quiet boy. he tilted his head slightly, and licked his lips in attempt to chap-pen them. “uh, i think it’s around here somewhere.” he states. he uses his free hand to navigate around the back of the jeep in attempt to find the missing cord. he directed his gaze to the back seats for a split second to try to find it. his other hand, controlling the wheel, slightly tilted to the right and you felt a bump hit the tire.

you and stiles both looked at each-other in accord as he released his right hand from the backseat and placed both hands on the steering wheel. the car slowly went for a stop as something got lodged into the old jeeps tire. “you have got to be kidding me,” you huff out. “stiles, please tell me you still have that spare tire on the back of your jeep?” you smile shyly in attempt to butter up his reaction to the unfortunate event.

“remember that day last year when me and scott were playing around.. with the tire,” he laughed playfully, but with a sense of frighten. “you have got to be fucking kidding me,” you grit straight through your teeth. stiles smile fades into the black of the night as you open up the jeep door, and head out by the back of the car.

it wasn’t an ideal night, it was freezing cold, the power went out, and not to mention you guys were in the middle of the woods.

you heard the jeep door ram as stiles emerged from the left side of the car. “who’s idea was it to take the shortcut route,” you sneer. stiles gave you a menacing look as he popped open the back of the trunk. the jeeps blue figure moved up slowly with the guide of stiles hand. his eyes scanned the messy space in front of him in search of something that may help. he sighed for a few seconds in defeat as nothing came up in his scan. “maybe you should look with your hands”, you snickered. you took a step closer to the large vehicle and dived straight in. you began to shuffle around the papers, and the tools in attempt to at least find something useful.

you couldn’t manage to find anything helpful in this situation. stiles was still behind you, and you felt his cold gaze latch onto your soul. “what if we never get this car started,” he questioned frightfully. “trepidation”, you said. “what?”, he asked. “trepidation.. a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen.” he fell silent at the sound of your quip words. the cold was bustling as the night grew darker. you knew stiles was panicked, and not knowing what to do. but you didn’t know to what extent his fear was at.

you heard staggered breathing from behind you. quickly, you whipped your head to see stiles on the floor, tears dripping down his eyes. “it just came out of nowhere”, he yelped in pain. “what did? what came out of nowhere?”, you briefly asked. stiles eyes were as cold as stone. he stared into the open gape of the trees from behind you. you quickly got onto the floor next to him. stiles was known for loving physical touch from you during these episodes. you pulled him into a hug, his head laid onto your chest. “stiles, it’s gonna be okay”, you whispered while hugging him. your hands got trapped into his brown locks of hair. his cold body shook while he whispered some words of breathe and it’s gone. “stiles what happened?”, you ask persistently.

his breathing began to get heavier, and heavier. you strained at the sound of him gasping for air. it was like his head was underwater, and you didn’t know how to drain it. “stiles, please, look at me”, you plead. he stares into your lighted eyes, and starts to breathe. “listen to me sti.. trepidation”, you speak. his eyes grew warmer as your voice seemed to echo in his entire mind. “trepidation.. a feeling of fear, or agitation about something that may happen”. you see his body move up and down with the beat of his each breath. his face was less tense, and his body more relaxed. panic attacks weren’t uncommon for him, but this one sparked fear into you.

“just remember stiles.. trepidation.”

———————————————————

[mitsies]

it’s late february when gojo satoru decides he likes you.

the year is 2006, and the hour is late. a midnight snowfall takes place outside the window of gojo’s dorm room.

he sits at his desk, feet kicked up and pen twirling in his hand as he stares at the open laptop in front of him. the screen goes dim from being untouched for too long and gojo key smashes onto the blank document to wake it back up.

he’s currently mulling over an unfinished (and unstarted) mission report that was due appropriately 3 hours ago. but he just couldn’t find the words in himself to put onto paper.

(or, more accurately and less poetically- he just really didn’t want to.)

and plus, he was bored, and lonely. no one was awake at this time so he had no company, and gojo had found that he always worked better when not alone.

he sighed to himself before hunching back over the keyboard, ready to type in some nonsensical bullshit, when he sees something out his window- a person, clad in their pajamas, trudging through the snow. they were wearing fuzzy socks and gojo cringed because he just knew that they were soaked.

it was you, marching outside in horrid weather, with an expression that lay somewhere between delirious and determined.

he watched for a few more beats as you brushed snow off the courtyard benches with your bare, ungloved hands, seemingly in search of something. he wonders what could be so important that you’d brave the cold at this hour. gojo doesn't think he'd do that for anyone or anything in a million years.

his opinion of you, at the time, is not so positive. you were the second arrival to tokyo jujutsu high after him, and he didn't think he liked you very much. you seemed a little too apathetic, a little too spacey, contrasting his impassioned, driven personality.

you didn't seem very warm, he supposed, and that wasn't something he liked. (gojo never once considered that maybe, he just hadn't taken the time to get to know you.)

he's not sure why he follows you out into the snow, but before gojo knows it, he's pulled on his overpriced sneakers and a black scarf, and is standing beneath the overhang to the courtyard where you continued to search.

"i didn't think you were one to enjoy the snow so much," he calls out. you turn to face him, eyes wide, not having expected company. you look pretty, eyelashes webbed with snowflakes and a crown of ice adorning your hair. gojo's breath catches in his throat.

"i don't," you reply. your voice is thick with exhaustion, and gojo now sees how your arms are folded around your s shivering frame, and how your teeth chatter in the night.

"then what are you doing here?"

you look almost sheepish. "i forgot my book outside this morning."

gojo blinks. he wasn't expecting that. "you came outside in, like, negative 100-degree weather.. for a book?"

"listen," you start, indignant, "it was a really good book. it was actually so good that i dreamed about it, and i woke up because i didn't know what happened next. that's how i realized it was missing."

"so you're looking for your book at midnight in the snow because you had a dream about it?"

"basically."

gojo nods. "i'll help you look."

now it's your turn to be surprised. you knew he wasn't your biggest fan- but now, here he was, looking for something that had no meaning to him, solely for your peace of mind.

"oh. thanks, but... why?"

gojo shrugs. "i was working on a report and this seems more interesting. plus, you looked so sad and miserable and on the verge of death so you probably need the help."

you snort. that made more sense, you thought. he just didn't want to work, and this was an excuse to procrastinate further. you didn't think that gojo satoru had a selfless bone in his body.

but then he walked over to you, out in the snow, and removed his scarf. he wrapped it around your neck, deft fingers not yet numbed by the freezing temperatures.

"but first," he says, "you should put on some shoes. and grab a jacket. you might like, actually freeze. you look awful."

(he was lying. you looked heaven-sent in the stark whiteness of the background, but also kind of sickly due to the cold.)

he was close enough to kiss, you noted, though you weren't sure why. his face hovered close to yours and you could see the puffs of breath ghosting your cheeks. he's warm, so warm, and you're so tired- you don't even realize, but you slouch against him.

"you're probably right," you concede.

gojo is still, unsure of what to do. there's a pretty girl half-asleep on his chest in the freezing cold, one who he kind of hates but also thinks is really, really cute, and all he can do is place a hand on the side of your head and hold you there in a passive not-a-hug.

in a split-second, he realizes, though; he's not too sure if he can dislike you anymore. he'd thought of you as uncaring, but he supposes that can't be true anymore- not when you're desperate enough to know the ending of the story to traverse the snow in your fuzzy raccoon socks. you care a little, at least, about something.

(maybe gojo's grasping at straws to find a reason to justify his sudden liking of you. it works for him, though, because he smiles down at the top of your head and a warmth expands in the pit of his stomach.)

you pull yourself back drowsily, almost swaying where you stand. in an act of uncharacteristic kindness, gojo leads you back inside. you don't protest. he makes an amicable conversation with you, chattering away at half his normal volume to spare you the jarring sound of his blabbering.

"what book were you looking for, anyways?" he inquires at some point.

you're all but leaning against him as he guides you back to your dorm. he plans on leaving you there, because you're basically already dead on your feet and will probably pass out and die if you keep looking.

"kafka on the shore."

"i didn't know you knew murakami."

you manage a wry look through your heavy eyelids. "i didn't know you knew how to read."

he feigns a gasp and clasps a hand over his heart. "do you even know who i am?"

you hum contemplatively. "not really. but i wouldn't mind getting to know you."

his heart stops, and stutters. he hopes you're too tired to notice the rose flush gracing his cheeks. at this point, you've both made it to your dorm and you're already sitting on your bed. you look at him with your head tipped to the side and gojo realizes: he definitely doesn't dislike you. he might even go as far as to say he enjoys your company, if only a little bit.

he doesn't reply to your previous statement. "goodnight," he says instead, gently sliding the door shut. he hears you mutter a half-hearted 'sleep well' but he's already skipping back to his dorm room, grinning like a buffoon. he might as well be giggling and singing and dancing, with the way he feels like a child.

okay, so yes, gojo satoru probably liked you. maybe a little, probably a lot.

(he finds your copy of kafka on the shore in the common room the next morning. he thinks he'll give it back to you with a little note, asking you to a nice lunch with him later that day.)

[pastadoughie]

MY NAME IS SPELLED WITF AN E AND NOT AN A get it RIGHT!!

hai! im rowen (he/him) and i draw thingse soemtimze!! im a queer (trans, intersex, gay) 17 (5-1-07) yr old furry artist :3 u probably know my blog for drawing many many silly kitties and miscilanious creechers, but i do other things!

i do requests (no ocs or fandom shit, ONLY silly) and i take commisions (i am working on a website to organize all the prices and stuff, but for now, just dm me if youre intrested)

i do all my art on mspaint (win10 ver.) unless explicitly stated otherwise, i just use the default pencil tool on 4px (the largest default size setting) witch is a round brush with no antialiasing

i use a drawing tablet, the XP-Pen Deco 1 V2 (Celeste, He/Him), and an ASUS Harman/Kardon i7 14.5 In. laptop (Chelsea, She/Her)

my blog mostly runs on a queue, witch is very long and only goes onse a day, so sometimes extremeley old artwork gets posted. for this reason posts that are recently posted are not nessasarily recently drawn. furthermore, asks sometimes take an extremely long time to post after ive actually answered them, so please dont resubmit things. (+ i have far too many askse to actually be able to answer them all. so asks that are very similar to things ive already answered, are extremely time consuming, or are just not that funny, are unlikely to ever be answered)

rebeast : is for reblogs of other peoples content

rowencatfanart : is for fanart people have made for me (if you make any please tag it as such, as well as mention me in the post)

the beast speaks : is for all my original text posts

retchid opinions : are for my own text posts where i actually say things of value and have an opinion on topics

screaming and scampering : is for when i say bullshit that doesnt matter

consulting thea council : is for polls of mine

rowens serious art : is for serious rendered art of mine

rowens liddol guys : is for sillies of all kinds that ive made

biblically accurate rowen : is for art of non-kitty me, for blacklisting purposes (i like to not be reminded i am a person when im scrolling thru my own blog) mspaint animations : for when i animate things on mspaint (onion skin is for cowards i let my heart guide me) rowens animatics : are for when i make, animatics, its really self explainatory. rowens advertising : is for when i advertise my products or twitch or commisions or whatever. for blacklisting purposes the mewsifixtion : is for when i give out easter eggs 2 ppl who send me asks. asks for this are currently CLOSED rowensumptions : are for when ppl send me headcannons they have abt me thru asks S teir wimpering : for the text postre ive made that r actualey funny rows gross old ort : for when i reblog old art of mine i tag all asks with the username of the person who asked them, so if u want to find a previous ask of yours i answered you can just search your own username i also try to tag asks i answer with the date of when they were sent to me, and the date i actually drew them, because the queue can make this confusing,,, i cant really retroactively see the send date of posts i made before this tagging change, so some we will simpley nevr know,,, dates are written in american date format. so month-day-year i always tag the software i use for each artwork, but its pretty much always MSPaint (Win10), though i occasionally do image editing in Asesprite

the gray and white kitty i draw most frequently is my catsona! he is not an oc and is specifically meant to represent me

i ask that you please do not use drawings of him as personal branding (such as pfps, banners, avatars, ect.)

the samething applies to my fursona, valentine, though his design changes too much to give an accurate ref for, i generally will specify in the tags

i am generally fine with people saying that my catsona is cute but please dont make any overly explicit comments about my fursona, or on my posts in general. i am a minor (i dont care if you say like, ouyhh bark bark i love men i get it hes meant to be attractive but use some common sense)

furthermore. for people who have blogs with alot of untagged sexually explicit content its best you dont interact with me, i have my age set properly, so i do not see sexual posts that are properly flagged, but if your posts ARENT flagged, and you interact WITH ME, then thats on YOU for exposing a minor for sexually explicit content

if you have minors DNI in your bio and make a whole song and dance abt how ggrrr!!! i block ageless blogs and minors!!! and then go and reblog my posts with sexual comments then thats on you. and not me.

i dont care that much frankly, about seeing joke posts abt penis or whatever, but there is a line. and if you are trying to curate a specifically adult space on your blog then you also have to put in the work to not intentionally loop minors into that

also. please do not act overly familiar with me, im a 17 yr old on the internet and not your friend. and while i am not opposed to meeting people on tumblr, there is a line and you need to actually build some kind of relationship with me before youre allowed to act like that.

u can find me on tumblr (duh) : @pastadoughie : my main @leftoverdough : is my reblog sideblog @scungledfiles : is the web graphics blog i run w/ my friend (@soggiedsocks) (though we havent been as active as of late cuz mentol ealness + i have been fopcusing moar on this blog) youtube : pastadoughie (i havent posted in 6 months ouhm, oops,) twitch : pastadoughie etsy : scungledthings (i also share this with @soggiedsocks, when contacting my shop you will most likely be talking to him and not me.) if you would like to contact me FOR COMMISIONS directly you can also do so discord : pastadough email : pastadough01@gmail.com PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ONLY BUISNESS INQUIRIES!! stupid shit should be sent via ask or tumblr dm. DO NOT FLOOD MY EMAIL!! i WILL block you!! --- Last Updated : 5-1-2024

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (12)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Last chapter! Side stories will follow. Thank you for sticking with this series for so long! This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi

7:30 P.M. DD/MM/YYYY

I thought I knew the truth for a while—that this world existed inside a story. That this was a world which revolved around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around me existed to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world was created for “(Y/N).”

I was Friend A. Friend A was never mentioned again after page two of that story.

It turns out that I was sort of wrong. This world is made for stories, from stories, and (Y/N) happened to be the main character at the time. Now that I’m the author, I made myself the main character.

You wrote “story” and “world” so much that they hardly look like real words anymore. The tip of your pen hovers over the first page of your journal. It’s your first time keeping one, and you aren’t certain how to proceed. What tone do you use? Should it be informal or professional? How long should each entry be? How detailed should you make it?

The trapdoor to the attic flips open. Floyd’s head pokes through it like a garden eel in the sand.

“Whatcha doin’ over there? Still lookin’ for that manuscript?”

You shake your head. The manuscript for (Y/N)’s story disappeared without a trace after your meeting with Hans. No matter how hard you searched, nothing turned up, so you could only assume he retrieved it.

“No use in looking for it. I’m starting on my journal.” The pen twirls in your hand. “I’m not really sure how I want to write it.”

He hoists himself up and saunters over to where you’re curled up at the window. He peers at your handwriting. Flippantly, he flops on the floor next to you and yawns.

“Who caaares. Write whatever ya feel like writin’. It’s not like the one before was any good.”

The previous author’s manuscript was riddled with inconsistencies, plot holes, and grammar mistakes. It wouldn’t be a massive problem. Hans would simply have to work harder to fill in the gaps.

“The previous one failed, though.”

“Then just don’t fail.” He grins up at you. “Easy, right?”

You pinch his nose, laughing when he swats at your hand.

“Easier said than done.” Despite that, his words ease the burden on your shoulders just a bit. You don’t need to overthink this. It’s your story, yours to tell however you’d like. “Thanks for the advice, though.”

“Sure, sure.” Your name rolls off his tongue dismissively. “You worry too much.”

You glance at him. “You’ve been calling me ‘Red Handfish’ recently, why’d you switch back to my name?”

The lamplight glints in Floyd’s eyes briefly, then he closes them. A lazy grin spreads on his lips.

“I was calling ya ‘Red Handfish’ ’cuz I was hopin’ you’d get your hands all red and bloody again.” A huff of air escapes him. “Shoulda been there when you beat up the security.”

“Typically, you’re supposed to not hope I’m beating up your men.”

“It’s fine. Not like Jade and I need much protectin’.” His voice quiets down to a mumble. “You’re enough for security or whatever.”

His voice trails off at the end. Soon, quiet snores fill the attic. Seeing that he isn’t planning on disrupting your writing, your attention returns to your journal. Following his advice might not be a bad idea.

My main priority was to break the curse on Mr. and Mrs. Leech. I thought I’d have to ask (Y/N) to reach out to Vil Schoenheit or write something in this journal, but it turns out I didn’t have to do anything. Hans went ahead and nudged the odds in my favour already. At least, I suspect he had a hand in it. But I’m never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll happily accept that Walrus’s team and our own people have found a way to break the curse.

Azul was slightly disappointed that he didn’t manage to find a method on his own. He really wanted to put the twins in his debt, but I guess he’ll have to sulk. His specialty is potions, after all. Not curses. He’s also a little salty because this implies Vil Schoenheit is still more skilled than him on the subject of curses. His competitive nature never dies down when it comes to other competent people, even after all these years.

Anyway, the curse was undone three days ago. They’ve woken up perfectly stable and healthy, if a little tired. The twins have spent nearly every waking hour in their room. I’m glad they’re all looking much more lively.

Their parents wanted to go right back to work, but Jade and Floyd have been very insistent on making sure they rest. Right now, Jade and his parents have decided to split up the work equally, but Jade plans on eventually relinquishing his position as the temporary head of the Leech Mafia. He doesn’t want it back anytime soon. His parents might want him to keep observing their work, but I think he’ll take a long breather after the Carpenter Mafia dissolves. He says he wants to join a research lab on fungi. I’m sure he’ll enjoy himself there.

Speaking of Jade’s interests, Floyd owes him quite a bit for breaking his terrariums. You cast a glance at the twin dozing off on the floor. Jade’s been working him hard. Just as you’re about to pull a knitted blanket off the window seat and drape it over his torso, Jade climbs up to the attic.

“Ah, I thought I might find you two here.” He ignores your shushing motion, speaking nearly louder than his usual conversational volume. “Have you made any progress on that journal?”

“Keep it down, Floyd’s sleeping.”

“Oh? I suppose he is.” He smiles as though he’s entirely innocent. “Even though he should be running an errand on the west side of the city right now. Isn’t that so, my dear brother?”

Floyd stirs, brows furrowing as he grumbles. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’m afraid you’re late. Why don’t you head out? It wouldn’t do for you to procrastinate.” Jade leans over him, his shadow eclipsing Floyd’s face. The latter gripes some more before rolling away and hopping right through the trapdoor. His footsteps echo through the halls, eventually leading to the sound of the front door.

“He’s tired. You should let him rest.” You close your journal and set it beside you.

He kneels by your seat and rests his head on your knee. Gingerly, you reach out and comb your fingers through his hair. His entire body melts against the wall and your knee.

“I am also tired.” His eyelids drop halfway, a pitiable pout on his lips. “Much more so than he is, I’m sure.”

“And what? You want a gold medal for the Fatigue Olympics?” Despite your words, your other hand holds his jaw, thumb brushing over his cheek. “Come on, get off the floor. It can’t be comfortable.”

He sighs in contentment. “With the way you’re touching me, I have half a mind to stay where I am.”

You’ve come to realize that Jade acts this way when he’s looking for attention, and he only actively looks for attention from you. With a sigh escaping the smile on your lips, you ease his head off your knee and move your legs so that your feet touch the floor. He has the gall to look like a kicked puppy.

“You’re so dramatic.” You pat the cushioned space next to you. “Sit up here.”

It’s like his fatigue disappears as soon as you extend the invitation. He wastes no time in sitting next to you, his thigh pressing against yours. One of his hands reaches behind you. You feel it causing the cushions to shift under you as he uses it to support his weight. Strangely, it feels more intimate than if he had touched you directly. The knowledge that his arm is there creates a sense of security. Sturdy, safe, like the face of a cliff that has your back. He’ll never be a threat to you. You think back to what you once thought of people who trust Jade, and you wonder if you’re a fool, desperate, or if you have something on him.

It might not be so bad to be a fool once in a while.

You lean into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. A pause, followed by the light pressure of his cheek against your hair. His body is cool to the touch like always, and you find comfort in it.

“I’ll help you make new terrariums to replace the ones Floyd broke.”

“How kind of you.” The hand behind you lifts, only to find its place on your waist, securing you to his side. “In that case, I should consider what I’d like to grow in them. Lichen would decorate some surfaces well, but I doubt it would be possible.”

“Lichen?” You often see it back home near the shore. “Why not?”

“It cannot survive in a closed system like my terrariums.” His voice lowers to a soft, almost sweet tone. “It requires clean, fresh air, outside the confines of a box that I control. The charm of keeping a terrarium is that I control every factor within it, down to what lives or dies. But despite the fact that it eludes my grasp, I adore observing its beauty in the environment where it thrives.”

Somehow, you don’t think he’s talking about lichen anymore.

“Lichen grows on trees and rocks, right?” You think about the cliffside. Patches of pale green life covered the rocks where you met Jade. It brought a sort of earthy, rustic quality to the area. “It’s pretty. I think I’ve seen a few of your photos focusing on it.”

“Yes, it needs to be anchored to a sturdy surface.” He adjusts his grip on your waist. “Unassuming, allowing other elements of the scenery to shine, but charming and effective in its own right.”

You don’t want to ask if he’s referring to you. He’ll surely tease you for being self-absorbed. However, you are not so prideful as to not acknowledge what he’s trying to say.

“I sort of understand wanting to be anchored to something.” You place one hand over his. “It’s easier to let my guard down when there’s something that can protect my back.”

“Allow me to assist you with that.” He intertwines your fingers. “If you must be anchored to something, I’ll be more than happy to provide you with support forever, until you ask me to stop.”

“All this talk about ‘forever.’” A grin pulls at your lips. There’s no harm in teasing him once in a while. “It’s like you’re trying to marry me. What’s with that, huh?”

His entire body freezes. You lift your head from his shoulder, trying to look at his face.

“Jade? I was joking—”

He gently presses against your temple, his wrist blocking your eyes as he guides your head back down to his shoulder. What a letdown. This time, you really wanted to see his expression.

“Incidentally,” he says, “would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“You changed the topic way too abruptly.” Laughter bubbles in your throat. “I thought you were better at making conversation than that.”

“I’m inclined to disagree.” He doesn’t elaborate. “Are you free tomorrow evening? We can book a reservation for that restaurant you wanted to try.”

Usually, you wouldn’t turn it down. But . . .

“Sorry, I’ll be out with (Y/N) all day.” You’ve missed her. And after she called you in distress over losing the polaroids you took together, you promised to replace them with new ones. There’s so much you have yet to do with her. “Maybe the day after?”

Jade sighs loudly, as though he’s the most pitiful being in the world. Amidst teasing laughter, you close your journal and focus your attention on him. It’s alright to take your time writing it. Your story is a process that does not need to be rushed. It may only be a page at the moment, but one day, you’re sure this journal will fill with your experiences, plans, and thoughts. You will continue on living as your own person—not a side character or a main character in a grander scheme, but as yourself. To live as a human being with your unique experiences—that is your story.

[chiefdirector]

Preparing | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Part One | Part Two

-----

If Chen’s intel was correct, (Y/N) was still out there. Tim and Lucy had done some more digging into her former partner, Detective Williamson. Apparently he had abandoned the assignment when things had gone south, he fled from the scene, leaving (Y/N) without backup. He had left (Y/N) to fend for herself. 

According to his confession, he had kept an eye out on her, but never intervened. He chose to spend the rest of his life in solitude rather than return home a coward. Tim clenched his jaw, listening to the cowardice spew from the man’s lips. 

“I should’ve gone back, but they could’ve killed me!” He pleaded, as if it justified his actions. 

Despite the self control Tim prided himself on, he couldn’t help but lunge at the man. “Why about her, huh?” He roared. “What about her life! You could’ve gotten her killed!”

Grey grabbed Bradford as soon as he saw him move. Tim didn’t have the time to reach the man before he was handled out of the room. 

“Hey! Watch it.” Grey let go of his grip once the door shut behind them. “You attack him and he can walk free. You know this.”

“He’s the reason she’s not here. He took her from me!”

“And he’s the only chance we have at getting her back. Like it or not, we need him.”

Tim huffed. “I know.”

“Now go calm down before I have you removed from this assignment.” The Sargent turned to walk back into the interrogation room. “Have everyone meet in the conference room in fifteen minutes. We need a plan.”

————

Tim could feel every pair of eyes in the room zero in on him as he entered. 

It was to be expected. The case of Detective (Y/N) Bradford was one thought to be a lost cause. Cases like hers rarely, if ever, tend to get leads so late in the game. The fact that there was a new lead this late in the game was rare, it was rarer that the spouse was directly involved. Most of the cops who had been involved with the initial stages of her case were there, including the original detectives. Tim hated them, these detectives were (Y/N)’s coworker and they had failed her, everyone in this room had failed her; Tim had failed her.  And he hated everyone, including himself, for it.

The newer faces in the room, people who had transferred to the station, people who hated being assigned to the original search, and of course the new rookies, did not know the significance of this lead, this was just like every other day for them, Tim envied that.

Tim took his seat near the back of the room, it had been left empty for him. Despite their gawking at his arrival to the conference room, they knew he was coming. It wasn't a surprise, mostly everyone at Mid-Wilshire knew how devoted Bradford was to his wife, not many men would have held out for their wives this long.

“Right,” Grey said, bringing the attention from Tim to himself. Tim let out a small sigh of relief from the diversion but quickly straightened his posture as not to show any emotion. Even though his mind was swirling with thoughts and bubbling emotions, he would not let it show, not now, not here. He raised his head, straightened his shoulders, and looked towards Sargent Grey as the Watch Commander continued talking. “Most of you know why we are here, and for those who don't, or just need a refresher, pay close attention.”

Papers shuffled as most in the room took out pens to take notes.

Grey quickly shot a look of reassurance towards Tim. “In the files before you, you will see the case of Detective (Y/N) Bradford. She disappeared on the job nearly two years ago, it started as a missed check-in with the lead detective on her undercover operation but neither her, nor her partner was heard from again. Or so we thought until Officer Chen discovered that the partner wasn’t missing but was in fact hiding from us.”

Grey gestured to Lucy who stood up next to him. She looked at him expectantly, moving to the podium when he stood back for her to take over. “That’s right. Detective Williamson is currently in an interrogation room. He confessed to endangering Detective Bradford’s life by trading her’s for his own. He allowed the cartel they were hunting to let him go in trade for information on her. Everything from her address to her favourite soda. They knew everything they could ever want to, and then some. Which explains why she has not been seen, she most likely went into hiding herself.”

Chen stood back once again, allowing Sagrent Grey to take over, but Tim couldn’t hear what he said. All he could think about was that his wife had been in danger for so long. If this cartel knew everything about her, then they knew about him too. (Y/N) was smart, she would have realised that almost immediately. Tim couldn't help the thought that he was the reason she had stayed away all this time. He was meant to protect her and he could have been part of the reason she was in danger all this time.

The grinding of chairs against the linoleum floors brought his attention back, yet he stayed seated, watching his colleagues shuffle out of the room towards their new assignments. Lucy stayed where she stood as Grey made his way to sit next to Tim.

“Nobody will blame you if you take a step back now, if this is too much…”

“If you were me, would you step back?”

Grey looked down, pretending to consider what he would do, but he needn’t as there wouldn't be a question as to what he would do.

“Exactly, so please, tell me what I can do.”

The watch commander nodded, placing a case file onto the table.

-----

Part Two | Part Four

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989

Tags are open :)

[oepionie]

WHEN EELS FLY. jade leech

"I don't know what I would have done if you got hurt."

Synopsis: You have no idea who thought it was a good idea to place you in the hands of two eels during broom flying practice but you hoped they suffer for an eternity<3

Character/s: Jade Leech x GN! Reader

Tags: Fluff, Warning for heights and falling, Floyd is a little shit, Jade allows him to be a little shit, Allusions to violence

Word Count: 600+ | 🎸Event Masterlist

Plummeting from the sky to a 100-foot drop was certainly not how you envisioned your final moments to look like. Oh well, let's hope Grim has enough money to start planning your funeral.

"Floyd!" You shrieked, trembling hands clinging tight onto your broomstick. Floyd whizzed around you in rapid and sharp turns, his hand reaching out to push and pull at you now and then. "What is wrong with you?!"

As an especially strong push caused you to fall off the broom, your heart almost literally sprang out of your chest. Thankfully, you were able to stop yourself from falling by grabbing the stick with your hand. 

Gulping, you found yourself dangling off the broomstick, staring down at the school grounds; Which appeared oh so tiny from up above.

"Shit shit shit!" After scrambling to the top of the broom and stabilizing yourself, you turned to face the other Leech brother. Jade was floating a few feet under you two, grinning wryly as he witnessed your torment.

"You're in quite the predicament, aren't you prefect?" Jade chuckled, watching Floyd loop around in circles, nearly crashing into poor, unfortunate you. Panting, you glared at him. "W-What do you think?! Help me!"

"Oya?" Scraping the wood of the broom with his sharp talons, the eel pretended to ponder, resting his cheek against his palm.

"I don't think I will. It is much more entertaining to watch you scramble for safety like this. It's quite adorable." Agitated, your jaw dropped at his answer and Jade grinned once more.

Ah, your reactions never failed to amuse him.

"If I may add, you seem to be handling Floyd rather well. That was quite the impressive stunt earlier." Jade sent you a closed-eyed smile, clasping his hands together politely. You tugged at your hair, glaring at the merman. Oh, you were going to cook him alive for this. 

"Jade! You insufferable basta-Ah!" You were cut off when Floyd rammed into you, making you tumble off your broom. This time, he had pushed you so far away that you missed the handle. Both Floyd and Jade watched with wide eyes as you plunged to the ground, screaming their names.

"Jade~ Shrimps can't fly, right?" Floyd squinted his eyes at you before turning to his stunned brother who hastily took out his pen and sent a burst of wind magic your way.

"Of course not." He seethed.

The powerful wind current struck you and led to you to gradually lose speed. As you floated towards the ground, your screams died down. With wobbly knees, you softly landed on the plush green grass, still processing your near-death experience.

"Make that two fried eels..." You groaned, burying your head in your hands. Curses fly out of Jade's mouth, mostly directed at his brother, as he dropped down beside you with a grunt.

The eel sprinted over to you, gently tracing your cheeks with his palms. His angled eyes darted all over your form, searching for any injuries.

"Are you alright?" Jade muttered, pulling you into his firm grip. "Sevens. I don't know what I would have done if you got hurt."

"This is all your fault, Leech." You breathlessly whispered, shaking like a leaf in his grasp.

"I deeply apologize, dearest." As if he was looking for the right word, Jade paused. "If you'll allow me to. I'll atone for my negligence. I should never have let Floyd become so reckless."

"Yeah yeah, you can start 'atoning' by skinning your brother alive." 

Jade's lips curled up in a devilish way, his eyes gleaming dangerously. Oh, this is why he loved you.

"As you wish, my pearl." He drawled, hopping back on his broom. 

A big burst of wind magic was quickly sent Floyd's way, flinging the poor eel off his broomstick. You gasped, hearing his distant screams as he wildly flipped around while Jade sent wave after wave of magic at him.

Oh, Floyd will be fine. Probably.

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

Taglist: @keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @anonima-2 @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda

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[morrieandlicky]

All Different Endings of Maurice and Alec from E.M. Forster's Maurice

Having been to the King's College archive myself, as well as read the Abinger edition of Maurice (which examines the differences between various versions of the manuscripts stored at the archive), I can conclude that there are 3 main different versions of the novel: from 1914, 1932, and 1952-1959, each differing from one another in Forster's treatment of the relationship between Maurice and Alec after the British Museum.

1914 version:

Order: British Museum - Southhampton - Penge with Clive - Epilogue

NO HOTEL SCENE, NO BOATHOUSE

In this version, Maurice and Alec do not spend the night together after the British Museum; Alec asks Maurice to but Maurice refuses with a long speech about how they shouldn't be together because of their class differences. So they part ways instead.

Maurice, however, does go to the Southhampton to see Alec off. After not seeing Alec there, Maurice leaves with Reverend Borenius at end of the chapter directly to Penge to say goodbye to Clive.

The reunion between them is implied first during Maurice's farewell to Clive—"I've wired to him (that I understand why he missed the boat)"—and then specifically illustrated in the written epilogue.

1932 version:

Order: British Museum - Southhampton - Penge with Clive

NO HOTEL SCENE, NO BOATHOUSE, NO EPILOGUE

The British Museum chapter is pretty much the same as the published version.

Maurice and Alec stay the night but there is NO hotel chapter written out. Their night together is only described in 4 lines at the beginning of the Southampton chapter as an "unwise escapade".

The scene thus goes from Maurice saying "To hell with with it" directly to him at the Southampton.

The end of the Southampton chapter as well as the farewell chapter with Clive conform to the 1914 version: i.e. no boathouse reunion.

Epilogue by 1932 had already been disregarded by Forster, so the only clue we have to the reunion between Maurice and Alec is Maurice's line "I've wired to him (that I understand)".

Therefore the 1932 version is the least hopeful in regards to the happy ending between Maurice and Alec.

1950's version:

Order: British Museum - Hotel - Southhampton - Boathouse - Penge with Clive

This is basically the final and published version that we all have read.

The hotel chapter was drafted out in 1952 and added to the 1932 manuscript.

But it wasn't until 1958 that Forster was able to finally and fully pen out how Maurice and Alec reunite at the boathouse.

It must be noted that Forster had troubles finding a way to bring Maurice and Alec together, and in fact refused to reunite them for decades. The boathouse reunion, Alec sending a wire to Maurice, and Maurice not receiving that wire but instinctively knowing where Alec is nonetheless—all were only conceived by Forster in 1958.

Therefore—and this is really the most touching and important part—according to scholars and editors of the Abinger edition...

"now we shan't be parted no more, and that's finished" were by logic the very last words Forster had written for the novel. Alec's promise marks the end of Maurice's search for a friend, as well as the end of Forster's writing progess for Maurice. It is both a fictional and a real-life farewell.

[the-slasher-files]

WORKING HARD OR HARDLY WORKING

JOHN "SOAP" MACTAVISH

A smutty fic totally inspired by a friend who said he was hungry and wanted to leave work so he could eat pussy lol... and Mr Soap is the man with that energy. Fem reader with female anatomy... enjoy🤍🔪

MASTERLIST

A typical rainy UK day had passed you by. Johnny was home from deployment, but he wasn't completely yours, and he never would be. It was something you had accepted in the early stages of a playful, blossoming relationship. The army was his North Star and had melted into the very fibre of his being. Mundane but beautiful, Johnny had risen before the songbirds, brushed his teeth, and swapped the sleep shorts for boxers and his fatigues. Lazily stumbling through the dim light of your bedroom, placing a soft kiss on your temple and headed out to the base.

You would be lying if you had said that the work and life balance did not frustrate you, but he made up for every little moment when Johnny was home. Today was no different.

The clicking of typing and shuffling of papers filled your small office room within your townhouse. Voices over patchy computer microphones faded in and out as your team went over the last quarter of reports and statistics.

"May through June was our best..."

Your manager's voice dragged on as you tapped your pen against the pages of your lined notebook, pursing your lips and watching your bored coworkers upon your screen. That was until you nearly screamed, catching movement behind you on your camera before whipping around with your heart in your throat and wide eyes. It was just your fucking handsome boyfriend making you almost have a heart attack.

"Jesus Christ, John!" You whisper yelled at the scot before quickly muting your mic and shutting your camera.

Normally, the warm and playful energy would be beaming within your space, however, Johnny seemed oddly preoccupied. "Lass, I just..." A frustrated sigh passed his lips, "Had to come home to ya,"

"Is—are you okay?" There was an instant pull of worry on your features, about to stand from your office chair, "Johnny, what's wrong?"

Large hands, gently kept you seated and knelt on the fluffy rug beneath you. Furrowing your brow in concern, the meeting was completely fallen on deaf ears as you cupped his strong jaw, searching for an answer on Johnny's tanned face.

"I needed you" He gruffed out, lust coating each word.

Finally, he gazed up at you with his signature smile and calloused hands smoothing up your thighs.

"Fuckin—" You breathlessly laughed, the worry and concern melting away in his azure eyes.

"I'm hungry" Johnny groaned, thick fingers needing your hips slowly and bowing to kiss each knee.

"Sweetheart, I'm in a meeting right now, but there are leftovers in—"

"No, baby." There was a deepness in his chest when he replied, a tingle sparking within your spine at it. Rough yet skillful fingers almost pulled off the button of your trousers. "I'm hungry for you,"

With a call of his name on your lips, you protested but lifted your hips anyway, allowing your pants to be pulled off and tossed across the floor. Exposed only in your black lace underwear and button-down blouse, your face flushed and breath caught. Each kiss the scot had placed on your soft skin from ankle to thigh lit you on fire. Wetness growing fast as you squirmed beneath his wildfire touch.

"Y/n? ... Y/n?"

You froze at your manager's voice and Johnny just chuckled between your legs, "Continue your meetin' darling"

Cursing under your breath, you turned on your camera and microphone, "Sorry... um, my connection went out for a few m-minutes"

"That's alright, let's review the new topics f—"

"Such pretty little lace" John muttered against your hot core, lips sucking and kisses on the sticky fabric.

Trying to desperately compose yourself, face red and a hand gripping your pen with white knuckles, you flinched once his hot tongue laved across the clinging lace. Nudging your clit softly, those sea blue eyes met yours seeing the struggle, want, need and anger swirling through. He couldn't get enough. Spanking your cunt lightly with a rapid succession, Johnny motioned his head to your computer as your coworker as you question about something you were lost on.

Flying your eyes to the screen, there were puzzling looks, some just zoned out and others awaiting your response. "Sorry, my, um, dog is annoying me," you placed emphasis on the word dog, glancing down quickly to see John's squinted expression. This earned you a gentle warning bite to your clit, wanting to jump back but his hands held you still.

"To answer your question, I have been working closely on this with..." You fought on against the assault of your partner down below, voice professional in placid answers.

Only he could notice the dips and croons within your voice, as he basically spoke directly to your pussy in hushes mumbles, "such a sweet, wet cunt... a needy girl... look how wet she's getting as she tries to focus.."

It was manageable with a steel, stubborn focus you had fortunately been born with, but those walls were crumbling fast. There was a click of a knife, cool metal faster than you could realize and your panties were gone. Hot swipes of his wide tongue made you grip the brown fluffy Mohawk on top of your man's head, fingers tangling within it, reminding you to cut his hair after he ate you alive. Catching your bottom lip to hide a whine, it only made Johnny work faster like a man starved.

The hot magma licked inside the pit of your stomach, managing to reach foreward to mute your mic once the direction of the meeting was turned upon your coworkers, you couldn't help but give out the moan. Needy and wanton, leaning back in your chair, your hips rolled against against his face feeling rough stubble, hot saliva and your own juices now pooling underneath you.

"Fuck, hen... Christ you taste so good" Johnny hummed, the deep vibrations of his voice only made it harder to look normal on your Webcam. "Couldn't stop thinking about this pretty little cunt. Begging me to come home and fuck you..."

"John, J-John" Sweetly, you begged for it feeling so close yet so far in your pleasure.

Bringing the hand that held your pen up to your mouth, chewing on the plastic, hoping you didn't look too suspicious, but in the same breath your shits to give was dwindling. A deep rumble of a groan shot through him, lapping up every single drop of you as he plunged in a finger.

"Oh my god, baby, please" Johnny added a second finger quickly, making you gasp and twist. Your heel digging into the wide plans of muscle that was his back.

He pulled back with a string connecting you two, "Well would you look at this greedy little girl, huh?... Fucking needy angel,"

Flushed, hot cheeks were visible now to your team, along with the obvious wiggles, and you begged this fucking meeting to just be over. John's fingers curled inside you and his skilled lips sucked on your clit, feeling just how close you were it made him chuckle.

"Well, that concludes our meeting fo—"

Instantly, John slammed down your laptop, standing in front of you. Crashing his lips to yours, you grappled against him. Thick muscle flexing under your touch and his fingers pumped faster, noises of your slick, squelched sloppily as your end came strongly inside you. Moaning his name out as his tongue fucked your mouth, the effect of your orgasm splashed his large hand, bringing you slowly down from your high.

"Fucking missed you today" Johnny's accent was heavier with lust, drawing out his fingers to bring them to his own mouth and humming at the taste of you.

"I'm gonna need a good explanation in the next metting." You smiled, breathing heavy.

"It was just your dog" He beemed back, leaning down and laughing against your lips in bliss.

"I need to buy you a collar"

"I'm not opposed to that"

[bravo4iscool]

Hey , you can just say Au, where call-off-duty work in an office (more precisely, according to my idea, they get a new job), they come to a new place, they are met by the boss (Reader)

Tall,fem! reader, who is dressed in an office suit(?) (I really don't know what they're wearing), a bright blue shirt with a slightly open fly, a jacket, and a skirt just above the knees (damn,shit what's it called? A pencil skirt? Bro I don't I know, in general, the skirts that office women wear in movies :/)

(König, Soap, Ghost and, and others, you can choose any, honestly it doesn’t matter to me!:)

this is amazing! i really like this request🤭.

and yes they’re called pencil skirt hahaha.

(i hope you can forgive me that i didn’t include könig. i’ve never played him and don’t know much about him, that’s why he isn’t present here😭)

i hope it turned out the way you imagined it :)) (this is all in the same universe btw!!)

tag list: @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic @bumblebeesfromvenus

(masterlist | join my tag list!)

simon “ghost” riley

he didn’t want to take the job. he never was one for office jobs or generally any thing involving sitting and writing.

he didn’t push all the paper work down to poor recruits because he felt like it. he hated paper work with all he had and now he was sitting in a office, in some chic skyscraper, waiting for his new boss to arrive.

damn price for throwing this job at him.

simon was sitting at his desk, playing around with the pen in his hands. he felt so free to already do background checks on all his coworkers but while he searched everything for intel about you—he found nothing. not even a single crumb. that was weird…

and then you walked in. blue blouse, a damn right pencil skirt and your hair pulled into a neat bun. you have a bunch of files under your arm and your phone in the other hand.

you walk straight towards his desk and he doesn’t know what to think. you were so, so—he couldn’t find the words. he’s never met anyone that held themselves the way you did.

you smile at him and plant the files in front of him. “lieutenant riley?” you ask and he nods. “great! john told me you’d be here today. i have this bunch of mission reports that need to be looked at.”

again, simon just nods and grabs the files. “and then?” he finally finds his voice.

“you need to look for any discrepancies. these files are maybe the only change we can win this case,” you explain. “you’ve been in the military for long, haven’t you?”

“yes ma’am.”

you give him a relieved smile and simon feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “then you know what to look for, right?”

“absolutely,” he confirms and nods.

you wipe a strand of hair out of your face. “amazing! let me know if you find anything.” you pat his shoulder and turn to leave. simon wants to start reading already but then you stop. “oh, and lieutenant riley,” you catch his attention. “i’m glad you’re on board for this case.”

simon smiles and gives you a small salute. ‘call me simon,’ he thinks but then you’re already gone.

john “soap” mactavish

“you recommended me to a law firm?” soap raises his eyebrow in a questioning manner. simon nods and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“‘s the same one i work for,” he tells his best friend with a shrug. “i’m sure they’ll be happy t’ave ya.”

soap frowns and plays with the rim of his whiskey glass. “why would they? i haven’t studied law.”

simon huffs and rolls his eyes. “‘nd ya think i did? they’re workin’ on expandin’ their military law wing. they need more experts than j’st me,” simon explains while he downs his glass of whiskey.

the younger man thinks for a second before he signs. “they’re paying good?” he asks and his best friend immediately nods.

-

soap was here. he really was here waiting to meet the boss of the law firm. he didn’t know much about her, expect from what simon told him…

after a few minutes he hears the door behind him open. “sargent mactavish,” a friendly voice calls out and soap stands up to turn around.

towards him walking are you, your signature pencil skirt and blue blouse. today you fly was slightly open and soap needed to force his eyes back onto your face. holy heaven, you were something.

“hello ma’am,” he clears his throat as he extends his hand. “a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says and you smile while you return the hand shake.

you walk around him to take a seat behind your desk. “the pleasure is all mine! i’m glad lieutenant riley recommended you. your war crime wing is expanding and when i told him he immediately thought about you!”

you quickly sort through a couple of files before you look at him again. “if i understand correctly you and lieutenant riley served together?”

soap nods and folds his hands in front of his lap. he was having a hard time to concentrate. you were just—you were a woman. a real woman.

“great!” you smile. “i will show you your workplace then!”

kyle “gaz” garrick

“simon,” you sigh. “are you really trying to convince me to hire your whole team?” you tilt your head at the lieutenant in front of you.

he shrugs, “maybe…”

“i though you and john were mastering the work alone?” you lean back in your chair. “i can always send one of my people over.”

simon shakes his head. “i want kyle,” he says—his voice barely leaving room to argue.

you sigh again and massage the bridge of your nose. “simon…”

“j’st f’r this case,” he tells you. “ya can let ‘im go after that.” the look in his eyes is pleading and you curse yourself for letting him have such power over you. “i need him.”

“this case,” you agree after a few moments of thinking. “and this case only.”

-

you walk into the office you have simon and john for their work. you open the door and three pairs of eyes snap towards you.

you give simon and john an acknowledging nod before you turn to the third man—must be kyle. “sergeant garrick?” you ask and he nods. “good. there are a few things we need to clarify before you’re allowed to work on the classified files,” you explain and gaz shoots a look towards simon. the older man gives him a small nod and gaz stands up.

“of course ma’am,” he slightly bows his head and crosses his hands behind his back. he was having a hard time concentrating… he knew about you from what soap and simon had told him but damn. that skirt was wrapping around your hips like it was tailored just for you and the way it highlighted curves–gaz felt like he was living a dream.

you immediately notice the way the sergeant is looking at you and you clear your throat. “sergeant garrick, you might want to look at my face when i talk to you.” his eyes widen in shame and he's lucky one can't see when he's blushing.

“of course ma'am. i apologize!” he trains his eyes on you, trying to ignore the way soap was snorting out a laugh behind him. he thought he was being subtle. probably not so...

captain john price

“lieutenant riley told me to deliver these files to him,” price groans when the woman at the reception didn't let him through.

“i’m sorry sir but i’ve not been told about that,” she gives price an apologetic smile and continues typing on her keyboard.

price groans and massages the bridge of his nose. “this has to be a joke. either, you let me through to lieutenant riley or i’ll make a way myself and i don’t know which one you’d like better!” he bangs his hand on the counter.

when he gets nothing more than a scared look he takes a deep breath and just pushes past the counter. “everything you have to do yourself,” he whispers under his breath.

moments before he sees simon a voice bellows through the office space. “excuse me sir,” price twirls around. “i believe my receptionist asked you to remain where you were just minutes ago.”

price frowns and tilts his head. “and i believe i asked to speak with lieutenant riley since he requested me to deliver these files personally.”

you shake you head and walk towards him. “i didn’t know that lieutenant riley runs this firm.” a smirk creeps onto your lips when you notice how the shock slowly shows on his face. “captain john price? or am i mistaken?”

price clears his throat and shuffles uncomfortably. “indeed ma’am. i am captain john price.” his eyes dart from your hips to your eyes and back to your cleavage. that blue blouse was really…working for you.

you nod and purse your lips. “well, captain price… in my law firm i believe in respect and respectful conversation.” you cross your hands behind your back. “what you are doing right now—“ you look him up and down “—is not respectful in any way.”

the captain swallows and averts his gaze. he’s never felt so ashamed before. what were you doing to him?

“everything you want to give to my lieutenant to can give to me.” you extend your hand. “or you learn how to talk and behave in the correct manner.” you raise you eyebrow in a questioning manner.

you know you got him when he takes a deep breath and straightens his back. “of course ma’am. i apologize.”

“great.”