#i think of how he is so much...hes so many ways 2 me...

[randompiecesofwriting]

Coffee Snob (Final!)

Summary: Robby has a bad shift, reader shows up to help keep him together

Pairing: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: Angst! Happy ending though I promise! General talks of sad depressing things you know how it is

Author’s Note: The last part!! I’ve had so much fun with these two and I really hope you guys have too but I think that for now at least I’m done with them, let them have their happy ending. Thank you so much for all of your guys’ lovely comments they alone kept me writing new parts to this!

Tagging @li22ie2017 one last time!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Robby was right.

It was hard to go back to the way things were after that night. To return to a cold empty apartment shift after shift.

And maybe it was ridiculous to expect things to change drastically after one night. You’d only spent the night in his arms, made him breakfast the next morning, spent the remainder of the day in his clothes as the two of you went out and ran a bunch of errands.

The DMV, the bank, the locksmith, the grocery store. All day in his clothes, smelling like him after using his products in the shower.

That didn’t have to mean anything right?

But he could only take so many of Dana’s smug smirks as he delivered her coffee in the morning. Could only bare so much of Jack’s disappointed frowns each day at hand off as he asked if Robby had grown a pair yet.

So he was going to do it. Today. This morning. Before he could talk himself out of it.

He’d already talked his way through the process time and time again. Debated too many times if asking you to dinner was the wrong move given your profession. Wondered what he was going to do if he’d read the entire situation wrong from the beginning. He wasn’t going to push it off any longer.

He knocked on your door just as he did every morning before his shift. He had a surprisingly easy time getting up just a few minutes earlier if it meant he got to see you before going in. For too long he had told himself it was all for the caffeine.

He was practically repeating the words in his head as he waited. Practicing them over and over, ready for when you opened the door. Or at least he thought he was.

Because when that finally happened, when you finally opened the door and peered up at him with a bleary smile, his brain went fully blank.

How could it not when he saw that you were wearing his clothes.

He knew it was a possibility when he never got them back after lending them to you, but it was an entirely different ballgame in this moment, seeing you blinking the sleep from your eye, hair still mussed slightly from the night, silently waving him deeper into your place, all while wearing his sweatpants dangerously low on your hips. It was like you were trying to kill him.

He followed you in without a word, determined to recover, determined that he could still get through his question.

Then you beat him to the punch, speaking before he could, “they’re leak proof, I tested them, so you might want to put these in your bag” you handed him the familiar tumblers and he furrowed his brow at the instruction, nevertheless doing as you said and slipping them into the pockets of his backpack, the new rules becoming clear once you handed him an unfamiliar looking disposable cup.

He knew at this point his question was too far gone.

“What’s this?”

“Decaf for Abbot” you answered as if it were obvious, as if he should’ve known you’d make him one this morning.

“You made Jack one?”

You hummed almost nervously, playing with your fingers in front of you as you answered. “I’ve never met the guy so tell me if I’m wrong, but he seems like someone who would appreciate a proper pour over. Plain black and decaf of course”

“No he is” and the corner of his mouth tipped up in response as he inspected the cup “where’d you get it?”

You furrowed your brow at the question “what do you mean I made it”

“But it’s in a disposable cup”

“Well I couldn’t keep giving away all of my tumblers”

He paused at the implication, smile growing mischievously as he realized “Did you buy disposable cups just to give my coworkers coffee?”

You scoffed at the accusation, crossing your arms over your chest in response “What no I-“ you cut yourself off as you looked up at him to see Robby’s knowing smirk, the words dying in your throat “shut up”

He was laughing now, fully from his chest, the sound much too loud and earnest for this early in the morning and yet it felt right, it felt good. You watched him laugh while you squirmed slightly on the spot, rolling your eyes dramatically as you started to push him out of your apartment without another word, the corners of your lips still tipped up in amusement despite everything.

“No no I mean it’s sweet” he tried to defend himself, but you weren’t having it, hands on his back to physically move him out the door and into the hallway, grumbling about being late for work before slamming the door shut in his face, never giving him the chance to say anything more.

Robby’s grin never once slipped as you did so. “Thank you honey” he called loudly through the door despite the early hour as he shook his head softly, giving you a moment to respond even though he knew you wouldn’t before finally starting his trek down the hall.

With a smile on his face he couldn’t help but think that at least for now, this was enough.

-

Robby’s had some tough shifts in his time.

Of course none come close to the day of Pittfest in his mind but damn if today didn’t try and give it a run for its money.

He’d lost too many people, had to break the news to too many families, been screamed at by too many patients. Things just kept piling. He was pulled into too many directions so that it never felt like he could poke his head above water for even a second.

It was why at the end of his sift he found himself at the rooftop. On the wrong side of the fence. In Jack’s spot.

Jack was talking to him. And maybe he should be listening. Maybe he should care that his friend was trying to help. Maybe he should at least try and be nice when he asks him to leave but he doesn’t. He doesn’t blow up, he doesn’t yell, he doesn’t collapse onto himself, instead he shuts down. He stares out at the ground below him and lets everything else fade into the background.

So he misses the way the gravel crunches beneath Jack’s feet as he retreats, misses the second set of footsteps that approach in return.

What he doesn’t miss is the newcomers first words to him when they reach the safety railing “hey”

And for the first time a single emotion cuts through all of the numbness he’s felt since he got to the roof, giving way to pure panic. Because he knew that voice.

His head whipped up to meet your gaze in surprise “What are you doing here?”

You simply shrugged, leaned your forearms against the railing, looked past him at the skyline “thought I’d see what all the fuss was about, scope out your usual spot”.

And he knew what you were doing. This was the part where he jumped in, made a joke about not bringing alcohol this time, did anything to lighten the mood. But he couldn’t. Couldn’t get his head straight enough to form a cohesive thought because you weren’t supposed to be here, you weren’t supposed to see him like this, to see the cracks, to see how he could barely hold himself together, to see just how weak of a person he truly was.

And you must have read his silence, seen through him enough to know that he needed an answer, because eventually you provided one “Dana called me”

And of course she did, he loved the woman, respected the shit out of her, but she had a habit of sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, of trying to solve problems she had no business being a part of “I’m fine”

He refused to look back at you as he said it, refused to let you read his face as he blatantly lied, refused to give any weight to the conversation, refused to give you any reason to stay. And for a second you let his answer hang in the air, let him choke on it just a little before you spoke “We both know you’re never fine when I find you on a rooftop Robby”

He whipped around again to meet your gaze as a million emotions ran through him, his head not sure whether he should be embarrassed or angry or resolute in that moment. You knew, you always knew, and of course you knew. From that very first day on the roof he’d been able to see how well you seemed to be able to read him but he thought he had done a better job at hiding it, at being non-cholent, at being a normal fucking person.

 “It was why I talked to you that first day you know” you continued as you ducked under the railing to come stand next to him “when I first saw you I thought about just turning around and going back inside”

He scoffed at that, burring his hands deeper into his jacket as they formed tight fists “instead you decided to what take pity on me? That why you started the conversation”

“Instead I decided hey here’s a guy who looks like he’d understand” you spoke the words quietly, without any heat, refusing to rise to his bitter tone “you aren’t the only one who seeks out a roof when things get bad”

That shut up him, made him swallow his pride, made him look down at you with surprised eyes, because you were the last person he would expect to need something like that, something you seemed to be able to read in his expression.

“I’m alone in this city Robby” you shrugged as if it were obvious, looking out over the edge as you spoke “no real friends, no family. I feel incredibly underqualified for the job I have and because of that I constantly put pressure on myself to be better, to be faster, to be more creative, to come up with more dishes, then maybe I can start to deserve what I have. I have an entire kitchen that relies on me including a chef de Patisserie who likes to randomly disappear on me meaning most days I’m the last one out and too many days I’m up at 4 in the morning doing prep work” you rambled nearly too fast for his brain to keep up, your eyes growing red as your blinks got quicker but never once did you allow yourself to faulter, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before you looked back up at him “so yeah I saw a guy sitting alone on a rooftop and thought maybe I shouldn’t be alone and after watching you for a few seconds, seeing the weight on your shoulders, thought maybe he shouldn’t be alone either”

And he deserved you yelling at him for what he said, hell he deserved a lot more anger from you, but for now he let it be, let your words fill the air around him for a second before he spoke “I didn’t know-“

And he didn’t need to finish he thought, you knew where he was going with it, answering with a small shrug “I’ve gotten good at hiding it, better than you at least”

He snorted at that, the corners of his lips tilting up at the edges just slightly for the first time that night “you’ll have to teach me how to do that sometime”

Seeing his small attempt at a smile had you relaxing slightly, your posture slumping just a tad at the sight of it, the corner of yours raising as well “not a chance, I like knowing when I can be there for you”

For once Robby decided to let himself feel comfort in that thought, allow himself to be looked after for a change, just a little bit “I want to know that about you too, to be that person for you”

And he watched your smile turn almost sad in real time, your eyes casting back out to the city “I see the way you shoulder everyone’s responsibility Robby” he furrowed his brow slightly at the change, eyes never straying from you even as yours avoided him “for your patients obviously, but also for your coworkers, for your friends. It’s this massive weight you can almost see that you’re constantly threatened to be crushed under” and finally you cut your eyes back to meet him, any playfulness from the past few comments long gone “I’m terrified of becoming just another responsibility for you to shoulder”

“What if I want the responsibility?”

You snorted at the question but again it was wrong, it was sad, hollow “you’re a good man Michael Robinavitch. I don’t think you’ve ever taken on someone’s responsibility unwillingly”

And at first he didn’t know what to say to that, because to an extent you weren’t wrong. He knows that he invested to much of himself into his work, gave too much of himself away, took too much on. But he could never bring himself to regret it, to do less, to be less. It just wasn’t who he was. “You know I’ve never considered you a burden I needed to carry”

You sent him a raised brow, a silent feeling of disbelief “Even when you have to take a day off from work to take me to the DMV?”

He chuckled at that, chin dipping down to his chest “especially then” He took a moment to study you, to watch your reaction as he said it, to watch the way his answer seemed to bounce off of you rather than wash over you “I mean it when I say I like spending time with you. There are few places I would rather be at eight in the morning than the dmv if you’re there”

He felt his chest warm as he watched your smile grow at his words, watched the way you tried to hide it by looking away, watched the heat creep up into your face as you bit down on your lip, every part of you trying desperately to school your expression and failing miserably. It was cute.

“You know usually I tell myself that sometimes I have good days and sometimes I have bad days and that’s just the way it is” you were looking back up at him again, lips pulled up into a soft smile “I’ve had a lot less bad days since I met you”

And god did that make him feel proud, making him feel deserving to even be talking to you, make him feel at a total loss for words on how to respond because what does one say when someone like you says something like that to him.

And as usual you had an answer when he didn’t. Taking a seat at the edge, dangling your feet over the side, and patting the ground beside you, beckoning him into the position he’s shared with you from your apartment building many times before. “So here’s what we’re going to do”

He relented almost eagerly, taking a seat next to you, sitting close enough your shoulders brushed against one another, happy to see that you didn’t seem to mind “we’ve got three options” he nodded at that, more than happy to go along with anything you said at this point “you can talk about your day, I can talk about mine, or we can just sit in silence for a bit”

He knew his answer before you had even finished talking.

“Tell me about your day”

You smiled softly at that, looking up at him through your lashes, bumping your shoulder lightly against his before looking back out in front of you “Well it started with me remaking the coffee I gave you three times”

A surprised laugh snuck out of him at that “what?”

“Well not yours and Dana’s that one was fine, the decaf for Jack though? It kept coming out either too bitter or too acidic I nearly drove myself insane trying to get it right this morning”

“Abbot would snort ground up caffeine pills if we let him” Robby chuckled again, shaking his head as he spoke “you could’ve given him instant coffee dissolved in lukewarm water and he would’ve happily drunk it”

“It’s my first time making him coffee” you defended yourself with your own laugh “ I have to make a good impression”

He laughed louder at that, more and more weight almost imperceptibly falling off his shoulders with each passing moment “I don’t think-“

“Anyways” you cut him off pointedly, giving him a glare that lacked any heat from the corner of his eye as you continued “after that I went to the restaurant and worked for a bit on some new recipes, we have a critic who’s expected to come in sometime this week I want to have something new to give them”

“You ever figure out that duck dish” he asked genuinely curious, eagerly watching the grin grow on your face in response.

“Oh my god Robby we pulled out some blood oranges and made a pan sauce with the juice” and god did he love watching the passion on your face as you spoke, the excitement in your voice as you described the dish to him using words he didn’t recognize, your voice getting louder and faster as you went, your hand shooting out to squeeze his bicep as you did so something he wasn’t even sure you had noticed you were doing, too caught up in your own excitement.

He loved watching you get caught up in talking about your food, loved the passion of it, the ambition, the excitement. So much so that the words slipped out of him before he even became aware of the thought entering his head. “have dinner with me”

He could physically see your train of thought come to a screeching halt at the question, could see the way your entire body froze as you processed it “what?”

And a big part of him thought about walking it back, pretending he had said different words, that he didn’t mean to attach the exact meaning he meant to them. A bigger part of him, however, was more than ready to double down “have dinner with me”

You furrowed your brow at him, struggling to put together exactly what was happening, struggling to figure out where this was all coming from. He couldn’t help it as his mouth ticked up on one side in amusement. “Yeah I mean we can get dinner, it’s probably a little late to pick up anything but I can make us something quick”

He was fully grinning now “no, tomorrow. At a restaurant. I’ll even let you pick it”

Your expression still hadn’t changed, one brow raised high “you want to get dinner, tomorrow, at a restaurant?”

He nodded “And I want to dress up a little for it. And pick you up at your door and tell you how beautiful you look. And I want to make awkward small talk on the way there. And pay for it before I escort you back home and beg you to let me do it all again”

At that you paused, eyes bouncing back and forth between his own as you desperately tried to read him, silently assessing before seeming to come to a conclusion “you want to take me on a date?”

“Several if you’ll let me”

And even if he felt like he knew you well enough to read your expression Robby felt like he couldn’t properly breathe until you responded, until he had your actual answer out in the air between the two of you.

And maybe you could read that in him too for you had no problem drawing it out, letting the statement grow stale on his tongue before you spoke “promise the small talk will be awkward?”

A relieved chuckle expelled from him at the question, Robby taking his first proper breath since he had first asked before responding “I’ll even start by noting what good weather we’ve been having lately”

You grinned at that, biting your lip as you scootched impossibly closer to him “well it has been uncharacteristically warm as of late”

“save it for tomorrow. At this rate we’ll run out of things to say”

“Ahh well we can’t have that” you relented, hooking your arm through his and setting your head on his shoulder as the two of you looked out on the city.

“Limoncello” You spoke out after a brief silence, your voice soft “I think we should do Limoncello tomorrow”

He couldn’t have bit down on his grin if he had tried, leaning down before he could stop himself and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head “I think I can make that happen”

You hummed happily at that, giving his arm a small squeeze in response.

“But only if we do Alta Via as the second one”

He could feel you laugh from his shoulder in response, your entire body shaking softly with it “Already planning the second one, someone’s awfully confident “

“I like to think I’ve earned the right to be by this point” he shrugged, still reveling in the ring of your laughter.

“Fine but I’m cooking for the third”

His grin grew so wide he could feel his cheeks hurt with it, unable to do little more than whisper his next word

“deal”

[captain-huggy-bear]

Just thinking about clay and “I slept really good last night” “that makes one of us”

(congrats on 1000 bby)

Dad!Clay makes a come back and baby Penelope/Penny is back in the house and yes, she has an itty bitty Gritty because I said so and clearly every child would become obsessed with that cryptid. 1000 Followers Celly Finished Requests are currently closed while I work through current ones <3 Writing Masterlist

You stretch your arms over your head as you walk into the kitchen, groaning as each of your limbs seems to pop in a satisfying way after a long and very good sleep. You feel heavy but in that way that comes from a good long sleep. Satisfying. You kiss Clay on the cheek as you pass him at the kitchen table to make a bowl of cereal. He's already sat at the table eating, eyes blinking heavy like he's not slept enough.

“I slept really good last night" You make a passing comment, not really thinking much of it as you sit besides him at the table, legs brushing, thighs pressed close together. Both of you unable to have much distance between you when you're both in the room even after 4 years of marriage. Both quite clingy.

“That makes one of us...” Clay grumbles, grumpy and sleepy, shoving a banana in his mouth like it personally offended him.

You frown at him, spoon being left to rest in your bowl as you reach up to push his hair behind his ear. Clay's usually the best sleeper in the house. He almost always sleeps well, unlike you. You're usually too anxious or worried about something...and Penelope's still young, sleep has a tendency to be disrupted for her, although you note that you didn't get woken up at all last night. Maybe her sleep has finally sorted itself with age?

"What happened, honey?" You baby him a little, the sort of tenderness that has his mood brightening a little more until he's leaning into your fingers on his chin and smiling just the smallest amount. Just enough for you to know he's not mad at you or anyone really, just tired, just a little grumpy.

"Penny came in at like 2 am and refused to sleep without me in the room." God, isn't that the cutest. You hate to think it because you know all about those sleepless nights, far too many to count when Clay's away on a roadie and you're the only parent around. But, it's cute, the way Penny loves her dad, how she seeks him out when she needs comfort. She doesn't just come to you, she views you both as vital and it makes it so much easier. There isn't really a favourite parent in your household, not since she was 6 months old and started to realise that Clay was another person in the house, mama was not the only thing in her world anymore.

At the time you'd felt neglected, suddenly not being the most important person in her world, but now? Now you were grateful that she split her time, energy and mischief between the two of you.

"You could have woken me...Clay..." You hum at him sympathetically, knowing you'd have gladly joined him in the night time efforts to get your daughter back to sleep.

"No, it's okay, she wanted daddy, y'know? and I wanted to make sure you got some sleep, you had a long day yesterday." He presses a kiss to the side of your head, reassuring, sweet. It hadn't been a choice really, the moment Penny had woken him he'd shushed her in an attempt to keep you from waking. You did more long nights than him, every roadie you were on your own and the least he could do was let you sleep when he was around.

"When did you get to sleep?"

"Like.." He looks at the clock before rubbing a hand across the beginnings of his five o'clock shadow, "2 hours ago? Finally got her to sleep and then it took like 30 minutes before I could sneak out of her room, she's got a strong grip for a 3 year old, baby." You laugh at him even as you sympathise because you know exactly how strong that grip is. She'd recently taken up mini-sticks and her favourite hobby was hitting a soft ball at your ankles, except her hits were so hard they weren't so soft anymore.

"She's your baby, that's why. She's already perfecting her slapshot." You grin at him, leaning against his shoulder, nosing into his neck as he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you and your chair closer to him.

"I blame Bainer, he's been teaching her how to fight when we're not looking at BBQs." You're not surprised. If it was up to Jack all the kids would be having a mini fight club. As it is he's already trying to start a toddler hockey team despite your concerns about skate blades, concussions and tiny little fists with sticks in.

Clay leans into you more and more, eyes starting to blink in and out of focus. It's the biggest of his tells, that he's struggling to stay awake, that he truly didn't get enough sleep. You run your fingers back through his hair, lips on his jaw gently as you murmur at him.

"Clay?"

"Yeah, baby?" His voice is rough, tired, like it weighs a thousand pounds.

"Go back to sleep, it's your day off. Go take another couple hours, I'll hold the fort." You murmur it against his jaw, not really wanting to be away from him but also knowing that he needs more sleep right now.

Marriage, parenthood it's never been 50-50 for the two of you. Some days it's 80-20, some days you're alone and it's 0-100, it varies and that's okay. It's okay because when you need time or help or less on your plate he takes it and vice versa. There's no arguing over fairness and exact measurements of effort.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Go to sleep, honey." You pull back from him just enough for him to look at you, a soft, grateful smile sent your way as he stands from his chair, leaning over you.

"Love you." He presses a kiss to your lips, soft, gentle, a little bit of that familiar bite because he's never been able to keep his teeth away, ever.

"Love you too." You mumble back against his lips before he slips away from you, practically stumbling back towards your bedroom. At the same time you hear the patter of tiny feet, Penny turning the corner in her PJs, blankie dragging on the floor behind her and Gritty doll clutched in her arms. The god awful thing in a tutu already.

"Mama!"

"Hey, baby!" You crouch down for her and she runs at you, full of energy unlike her father. Her little arms thrown around your neck as she presses kisses to your face, a habit she'd picked up after watching Clay do it so much to you.

"You sleep good?"

She nods her head so aggressively that you worry she might get a concussion, curls bobbing, twisting all over the place. Well, at least one of them got a good night's sleep, even if it wasn't daddy.

[viperify]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K!!!!! Your writing is so amazing, you deserve it and I’m so excited for you!!!

Do you think could you write a brother’s best friend trope using the dialogue prompt “careful. You are starting to sound jealous”? And have it be smut? 👀 (no specific kink request)

I’m so so happy for you and excited to see what you write (even if it’s not this request!)! Congratulations again!!!!!! 😊🫶🩷

1k celebration | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⋆♕₊˚Anything For You.

Short Summary: To many of Abraxas’ friends, you are just his little sister. But to Tom, you are everything—and he will prove it to you if he has to you.

Warnings: 18+ only! jealousy, oral f!receiving, light impact play, praise, Tom Riddle is completely obsessed with reader, fingering, overstimulation, Tom Riddle is a munch.

A/N: Totally obsessed with this ask and brother’s bsf!Tom. Thank you so much for requesting and your sweet words! 🩷 I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it. <333 Also I am in love with bratty, spoiled reader. UGH.

wordcount: 2,0k (yes, I said I would write shorter works—only drabbles, in fact. Yall know me. Sigh.)

in this fic, you will find HINT NR #2.

You don’t even glance up when the door to your bedroom creaks open and footsteps approach, old wooden panels creaking under the weight—because you already know who it is. Tom always does this—sneaks away from the others when they are at your place, looking both ways before he walks up the stairs leading to your room instead of going to the bathroom like he says he would.

“You’ve been seeing her again.” You remark, trying to sound as emotionless as possible as you paint your nails with dark red polish, not looking up at him once—not even when he stands right before you.

He doesn’t reply, and it’s silent between you two until you are done with your nails. You sigh, deciding to be the less stubborn one of the both of you for once and finally meet his expression—closed, calculated.

“I am tutoring her.”

You raise a brow at him. “So? You promised.”

“Dippet’s orders. I don’t choose to spend time with her—believe me, I have more important matters to attend to.”

You hate how smugly he says it. As though he doesn’t remember when you told him how much you despised her—always acting like she owns the place, as if she is the object of desire for everyone. 

You think of the one time you entered the library in search of a book you needed for your studies—and they were there. That stupid witch practically pressed up against your man, laughing and smiling as though she meant something to him. Now, Tom didn’t respond to her advances. Obviously he didn’t, because great Tom Riddle doesn’t want to be seen being affectionate with anybody—not even you.

But that’s for a different reason.

However, you couldn’t stop the uncomfortable feeling forming in the pits of your stomach at the sight of them together. You still wonder if, behind closed doors—

“Then why don’t you? She’s clearly failing classes just to get tutoring sessions with you.” You glance away from him again, putting the nail polish and nail file back into your drawer, fixing your hair in the mirror of the dressing table you are sitting at.

“I just— hate how much time she gets to spend with you only because she is not intelligent enough.”

You sigh as you catch his expression from the corner of your eye. His eyes are slightly darker than usual, eyebrows furrowed just enough to form a slight crease between them. Hands casually tucked in his pockets, posture perfectly straight as always. Sometimes, you hate how good he looks even when you are mad at him. Like right now.

“Careful, you are starting to sound jealous.” He says, and you huff. 

Did you now? You wonder why. Tom Riddle, nerd and know-it-all, finally catches on. You often wish he’d spend more time engaging in meaningful social interactions rather than his boring literature he reads every evening.

You shoot him a sharp glare. At that, the corner of his lips lifts into a smirk, and he nods.

“You are jealous.”

“M’ not.” You reply, trying to sound convincing—but it comes out sounding more like a pout.

Damn it.

Tom laughs at that, and you cross your arms over your chest, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You look pathetic with the scowl on your face, but you don’t care. He should feel it.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He drawls, pulling you up from your chair and into his arms. “Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

You don’t find yourself resisting as he takes your hand in his, leading you towards your queen-sized bed. Tom presses a soft kiss to your glossy lips before taking a look at your outfit—the one you spent 30 minutes choosing after hearing that Tom would be coming to Malfoy Manor today.

A soft pink top, revealing just enough skin, hugging your curves perfectly. And the skirt—his favourite—white, and very short—too short for you to wear outside your own room, anyway. You are still a respectable woman, after all. That’s what your parents say, at least. A Malfoy.

Although the things he does to you each time you meet are anything but respectable. 

They don’t have to know about that, though.

He makes a low sound of approval as his eyes roam over your body, his hand smoothing over the curve of your hip, resting just below the hem of your skirt—on the exposed skin of your thigh. The contact of his skin on yours, so close to where you are aching for him, sends a shiver down your spine.

“All for me?” he asks, eyes fixated on your skirt—the familiar fire igniting behind them.

Not only he could play smug.

“No, I was thinking of Avery.” You reply, batting your eyelashes innocently at him, a grin playing on your lips.

Tom merely scoffs at that, quick to turn you around and bend you over the bed, a firm hand between your shoulder blades keeping you pressed to the softness of your mattress. He hikes your skirt up, bunching it up around your waist, leaving you exposed—the pretty little thong you are wearing on full display for his eyes. 

His next movement isn’t what you expect, though—you jolt forward as his flat palm meets the curve of your ass, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“Brat. Don’t even deserve what I am going to do to you.”

You whimper softly at the sting of the impact, even though he didn’t hit hard—he knows just how sensitive you are. His pretty little doll, as he likes to call you. And normally, he is always careful with you—but sometimes he needs to give you a little reminder to tone that attitude of yours down.

“Get on the bed and spread those pretty legs for me, darling. I will be right there.”

You do as he says, crawling to the middle of your bed, leaning back against the stack of pillows you have on your bed. He is quick to follow—though still dressed. You are about to ask what he is doing, but when he positions himself in between your legs, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh—your breath catches in your throat.

“Don’t they miss you already?” You try, but he is quick to shut you down.

“Do you think they dare question me when I come back?”

You shake your head. Of course they wouldn’t.

“Exactly. Let me take it from here. Just feel.” He purrs, thumb tracing over your still-covered pussy, groaning as he feels how the fabric is soaked with your arousal—when he has barely even touched you. “Could never replace you. Look at you, so eager for me already.” 

He instructs you to lift your hips and pulls down your skirt and panties in one smooth motion, leaving your lower body completely bare in front of him. You feel your cheeks heat up as he runs a finger through your folds—eyes following his every move. Instinctively, you try to close your legs, but he is quick to stop you— wrapping his arms around your thighs, anchoring you to the mattress as he spreads you wide. So wide, you feel the sting in your thigh muscles.

“Not going anywhere now, darling. That pretty head of yours needs some rest. Clearly you have too much time overthinking.” He murmurs, trailing kisses down your lower tummy, ending with a kiss on your clit—making you gasp. “Perfect. So perfect.”

You wish to complain and argue with him, but when he gently parts your folds, warm tongue licking a stripe up your slit, finally looking you in your eyes as he does—you feel as though heaven and earth collide. And suddenly, all your problems are somewhere in the very back of your head, locked away.

“Merlin, Tom—“ you gasp as your fingers curl into your sheets, back arching off your bed. It’s all too much—too good, too intense, and yet, too little. He’s never done this before with you—youhave never done this. But fuck— it feels heavenly.

“Be good and hold still,” he instructs, and without further warning, his lips wrap around your throbbing clit. He first circles your entrance with his finger, then slowly pushes inside. His eyes meet yours again, and he grins just slightly as he scans your expression—lips parted, panting, eyebrows furrowed—you are a sight. Completely at his mercy, whimpering so sweetly at everything he’s giving you. 

Oh, how could you even think for a second he’d consider leaving you? No, no. You are his. His only. And soon, your brother will realise that too.

Your walls clamp down tightly around his finger when he finally starts sucking on your clit—but he is not done. A second finger soon follows, and then he moves them—slowly at first, letting you adjust. Not for too long, though. Soon, he curls them inside of you—pads of his fingertips pressing into your sweet spot, rubbing against it with every thrust of his hand. And most importantly, his eyes never leave yours. These dark brown eyes that you have grown to love, urging you to look back at them. Watch how he takes you apart with his tongue.

“Tom, please, I—“ you manage, breathing laboured. He is too good at this. Always has been.

Merlin, he is gorgeous. Dark curls dishevelled, messily falling over his forehead, veins in his hand standing out at the effort to keep you still. And God, the way the muscles in his jaw tense as he feasts on you—that sight alone almost sends you over the edge.

Tom knows you too well, knows every single spot that has you trembling and shivering—and when he has found a rhythm, a perfect mix of his digits stroking along your walls, tongue licking and sucking on your clit—you feel like you can’t take more. Vision growing black at the edges, eyes rolling to the back of your head. And yet—he keeps you open for him, continues tending to your most sensitive spots.

Naturally, it’s not long before you convulse around him—fingers tangled in his dark curls as your orgasm crashes over you, a strangled moan leaving your lips. You try to keep silent, but with the sheer intensity of your climax, it’s nearly impossible. He doesn’t stop until you whimper and your thighs tremble in overstimulation, only then does he pull back, admiring the mess he’s made of you.

“Gorgeous. Did so well for me.” He praises, kissing you gently, making you taste yourself on his lips. Tom is about to pull back, casting a quick spell to clean you up—

You are still out of breath but can’t stop yourself.

“Is this what you do with her when you study in private?”

You shouldn’t have said that.

Because just a second later, he is back between your thighs. “Still haven’t learned. Don’t worry, I will make you forget—even if it takes five more orgasms to get there.”

You wince when his tongue laps over your swollen clit once more—still sensitive from before. His hand finds yours then, interlocking his fingers with yours as he works your body towards another orgasm—eyes on yours, always.

By the third, you don’t have the energy to tease him.

Tom cleans you then and gets down beside you, pulling you closer to him, letting your head rest on his chest.

“Better now?” He asks softly, wiping a strand of hair from your face.

You shake your head as best as you can, pouting. “I am still mad at you.”

Tom sighs in defeat.

“What is it that you want?”

“Hmmm,” you hum, pretending to think—smiling as you look up at him.

“You’ll go to London with me tomorrow. Shopping.”

He nods, kissing you. “Anything for you, Princess Malfoy.”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | 1k celebration.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[tacoguacamole]

CHOOSING YOU | JJK

On a rainy afternoon wrapped in soft domesticity, Jeongguk surprises you with quiet confessions of love - proving that even in the ordinary, he’ll always choose you. With playful teasing, warm touches, and a vow whispered against your lips, he reminds you that his love isn’t fleeting—it’s forever.

ANOTHER TIME DRABBLE #1

[Pairing: Creative Director!Jungkook x CEO!Female Reader]

[Theme: Marriage AU. BF2L2S]

[Note: Just a short drabble to give everyone (and our mains) a little breather. Let's go back for sappy JK. Was listening to a track and got inspired to write this soft moment between the two. Hope this brings a bit of comfort before the next chapters. Thank you to everyone who's been reading so far 💜]

ANOTHER TIME INDEX: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

The rain had started in the early afternoon, turning the city into a quiet, watercolor blur. Soft drops tapped against the windows in a steady rhythm, a background lullaby that made the whole apartment feel slower, warmer—like time had curled up under a blanket with them.

Jeongguk sat on the couch with his knees drawn up, hoodie sleeves covering half his hands as he nursed a mug of coffee he'd forgotten to drink. The lights were dim, the golden kind that made everything feel like a memory already in the making. And across the room, sitting cross-legged on the floor with your laptop perched on the coffee table, you were fighting a losing battle with your hair.

It kept falling into your eyes no matter how many times you pushed it back, and the faint furrow in your brow only made it more adorable.

“You know,” Jeongguk called lazily, voice honey-thick from the stillness, “you’ve been fighting that same piece of hair for the last ten minutes.”

You sighed, dramatically and without looking up. “It’s got a personal vendetta. I think it’s out to destroy my productivity and my will to live.”

Jeongguk snorted and set his mug aside. A few quiet steps brought him to you. He crouched in front of you without a word and brushed the hair gently behind your ear, fingertips grazing your cheek like he had all the time in the world.

“It just wants attention,” he said softly.

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. He was looking at you with that face again — the one that made your heart stumble a little, like you were something rare that he still couldn’t quite believe was his.

“Where’s all this mushiness coming from?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though your lips twitched upward. “You didn’t mess with my sketchbook again, did you? I swear Gguk—“

Jeongguk laughed — low, breathy, a sound that filled the room better than the rain ever could. “No crimes this time. Promise.” He leaned in closer. “Unless loving you too much counts.”

You groaned, falling back onto the carpet like you’d been hit. “Jeon Jeongguk, please.”

“What?” he grinned, crawling forward until he was hovering above you, arms caging you in. “Can’t a man be in love with his girl on a rainy day?”

You looked up at him, laughter fading into something gentler. “You’re not usually this sappy.”

He shrugged. “I’m just looking at you today, and… I don’t know. I love the way your hair gets in your eyes. I love that you’re so bad at lying it hurts.”

You tried to respond, but he kept going, soft and serious now.

“You’re an angel,” he said, voice like velvet, “and I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

The rain sang at the windows. You laid there beneath him, cheeks warming, your breath caught somewhere in your throat.

“You make me want to say things I don’t usually say,” he continued. “And I guess I want you to hear them.”

You reached up, brushing a finger along the edge of his jaw. “So tell me.”

Jeongguk exhaled, forehead coming to rest against yours. “I’ve been wrong about so many things in my life,” he whispered. “But you… You’re the one thing I got right.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You just held his gaze, blinking slowly like trying not to cry. “Even on the days I’m too much? Or not enough?”

“Especially then,” he said. “On easy days, on hard ones—you don’t have to be nervous. Just fall in my arms.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him fully down onto you with a soft oof. He buried his face into your shoulder and melted into the hold like it was the most natural place for him to be.

“My love’s not a maybe,” he murmured. “It’s a sure thing. You’ll never lose it. No matter what life throws at us.”

Your hand slid into his hair, and you smiled into his hoodie. “You’re kind of ruining my no-romance-on-rainy-days rule.”

He grinned into your collarbone. “That’s not a real rule.”

“It wasn’t. Until now.”

“Well then,” he said, kissing your neck softly, “guess I’m a rule-breaker.”

You laughed, eyes wet, heart full.

Jeongguk pulled back just enough to see your face again, and in a voice so serious it silenced even the storm outside, he said, “I choose you.”

You reached up and cupped his cheek. “I choose you too, Gguk.”

And when he kissed you this time — slow, anchoring, meant — the thunder rumbled softly in the distance, like even the sky was giving you the moment.

“I do,” he whispered against your lips. “I do. I do.”

And he meant every word. As long as his heart kept beating, it would beat for you.

[preciouslandmermaid]

i think what really pulled me into the frank/mel dynamic was this - imagine it's your first day and you do a procedure and you're nervous and you're frustrated and you express this and the 3rd year resident looking after you is like "hey, i get it (i understand). you were awesome."

like he offered her connection. reassurance. like!! he didn't dismiss her, or judge her, he was just like "you just did a perfect crike. :)"

then a patient comes in, and she catches the autism diagnosis on his intake, and probably thinks of her sister - of how overwhelming hospitals can be and how many doctors (well meaning, but...lack the same first-hand experience as her) potentially didn't understand becca's needs. and she offers to take the patient. and frank says, yeah, sure go for it. and leaves her to it. offering her trust, showcasing his faith in her.

and when he comes in later (lmao like 2 mins later) and he doesn't step on her toes/override her or anything (pain ranking comment aside) and she helps that nice, young gentleman, and sends him on his way. one face among a hundred.

and then oh wait let's fast forward another hour or two and a lady is fucking yelling in her ear and he's looking at her, not blinking, like maybe she'll vanish if he does, and softly asking if she's okay and then instructing (ordering) her to take a break.

and when he finds her, talking about how hard it is for sensitive people to work her, i would bet MONEY that Mel was expecting a gentle rejection, but NO.

he really comes out and says "feeling like you're not up to it? been there." this cocky, hot-shot ER-Ken who set a floating fracture without blinking is literally sitting on the floor with her, on her level, and admitting that he's felt THE SAME. BEEN THERE. BEEN THERE HE SAYS!! followed quickly by, "we need people like you - badly."

and then he gives her the most chill, autism-friendly task of picking 1000 pieces of debris (give or take a hundred) out of a man's leg AND SHE GETS TO HANG OUT WITH HIS DOG!

like, frank gave her so much reassurance, trust, understanding, and connection in the span of 11 hours. like. no wonder she was thrilled to see him after she thought he left. like !!

[mortalscience]

top 5 garvez episodes! (or moments if you'd prefer)

oooh this was actually SO hard to decide. there's so many good moments and episodes.

first off honorable mention:

the Night Lights housewarming party flirting scene, god damnnn, it's just hot the way they're looking at each other, like GET A ROOM.

(5) Collision Course - I talk about this episode so much, I can't help it, they're just so fucking cute in this episode. Luke being charmed by Penelope the whole episode and he helps Penelope down off a curb and calls her hotshot and tells her nobody else is as good as her and he supports her when Spencer gets denied bail. !!!!! We get lots of good Garvez scenes throughout the show but this is one of the consistently Garvez episodes from beginning to end.

(4) Saturday - A classic!! Luke sacrifices his whole day for Penelope just because she asked him to because she wanted to help this rando and Luke is like I will do whatever you ask me to because I love you and acts of service are my love language. So Luke spends his whole Saturday being Penelope's Emotional Support Crimefighter and he fucking loves every minute of it and then he swears his sword to her when he finds out about her stalker. Luke worrying over Penelope is catnip to me ;_; And they manage to get some cute flirting in too even though it's kind of a more serious angle for their story in this episode because it's personal for Penelope.

(3) In the Dark - Luke finds Penelope crying and refuses to walk away when she tells him to and he is like I WILL BE YOUR SUPPORT SYSTEM AND THAT IS A THREAT and decides then and there he has to fix whatever is making her cry and it's Spencer being in jail and then he's like okay protecting Spencer in jail is now my whole personality because it will make Penelope feel better and he calls in favors and acts all hot and threatening just to make it happen all the while in the back of his mind he's like THIS IS FOR PENELOPEEE. And then at the end he gives her a present of a squeaky kitty because he's specifically thinking about her when he's away from her and wanted to get her something just to see a smile on her face because she's been so sad and he HATES IT WHEN PENELOPE IS SAD. *takes breath* OH this episode. SO GOOD.

(2) Swimmer's Calculus - This one is so fresh so maybe I'm grading on a curve here but I honestly love the Garvez scene in this soooo much, even when I objectively think about it, it's just SO GOOD. Luke hearing Penelope out about her empathetic streak towards Voit, and supporting her, and through the whole time they're talking they're just touching each other, so casually and intimately and it's CRAZY WORK. LIKE??? Luke just has his hand on Penelope's knee for like their entire conversation ajskldjskflds. It's so small and simple but gesture like that is so crazy intimate. Knees knocking and hands on each other's legs like, damn. It really did something to me and I love it because it also shows just how far their relationship has progressed, how close they are to one another now. My heart's melting talking about it. And of course the heartburn crack and the fact that Luke can't walk away from such a heavy conversation with Penelope without touching her one more time and making her smile so he knows she's good because her emotional wellbeing is like his number one priority. D:

(1) Dead End - Luke is Once Again acting as Penelope's emotional support in this episode (something of a theme going on here) and the main scene between them fucking kills me. Penelope is panicking about Tyler and Rossi maybe both dying and Luke fucking throws his whole self into being there for her. MAYBE IF WE LEAN ON EACH OTHER WE'LL HAVE THE STRENGTH TO GET THROUGH THIS TOGETHER. excuse me luke????? *faints and dies* And they are literally physically ONCE AGAIN hanging on to each other through that scene while Luke wipes away her tears and they make that "ME AND YOU" dedication to each other like WHAT THE HELLY. It's WILD. Characters declaring allegiance to each other mind body and soul are just. holy shit. It's definitely my favorite scene between them because it just shows the level of attachment and dedication to each other (especially Luke to Penelope lbr) and it KILLS MEEEEEE.

[soda-gremlin]

*cracks knuckles* Time to throw in my two cents :D

(Note that some of these may be repeats of the previous users, I apologize)

-Sparxshipping is a NO for me, both because THAT IS A MAN WHO'S BEEN IN PRISON ALMOST AS LONG AS BLOOM'S BEEN ALIVE, and because of how much they genuinely loathe each other (not in the "I hate you, but I love you" way, but in the literal way)

-On a milder note, I love both of Palladium's transformations, but I do prefer the Season 1 version <3 I feel like the second season was just the artists trying to make him look more like the other hunky guys,,,

-I like the 4Kids dub the best, yes I know its corny as shit, but the voice acting is very expressive, and I can actually tell the characters apart!! Also Darkar in 4Kids is the funniest shit ever to me, like, he's so unserious

-Riven is overhated. There, I said it. Listen, I love to hate this man, he is SO FUN to clown on, but there's a point where you have to admit that Riven isn't this abhorrent, evil person,,, He's just a guy with that toxic masculinity mindset. Yes he's a shit boyfriend, but Musa pulled some shit in S4 too, and she's not much better in S5,,, Riven is still very much a fuckass, I'm just saying, I think we should ease up on him, because at the end of the day, he's just some guy

-The teachers should have gotten more of a role, like in the Season 1 finale, instead they're barely even there when they're supposed to be the professors and protectors of Alfea (no I'm not just saying that because I wanna see more Palladium what that's ridiculous)

-Season 5 was shitty, not because it was fundamentally flawed, but because it had SO MUCH POTENTIAL AND IT DIDN'T USE ANY OF IT SHDHSJDBSHJDH BECAUSE WHAT DO YOU MEAN NEREUS AND NEPTUNE ARE MUTANTS FOR MORE THAN HALF THE SEASON?? I WANT FAMILY DRAMA, NOT MORE TRANSFORMATIONS SHDBSJDBSDJDHSHDBN

-As someone who has seen seasons 1-5, season 4 was the one I hated the most for just. so many reasons... (for more clarification, check out my Season 4 Rewrite!)

-The Specialists should be more fleshed out as characters instead of as love interests

-Timmy is the best boy, he is my goat, my baby, my shayla <3 He has done no wrong

-With such a big difference in their intimidation factor, power, and general role they played in their respective seasons, Darkar and Valtor should have swapped roles (since let's be honest, Darkar was a lazy fuck, and even without the 4Kids dub making him sound like a cornball, he was not imposing in the slightest)

-Along that vein, Fake Avalon was the best villain in Season 2

-The Trix should not have been in as many seasons as they did, it made them feel more repetitive, and forced them into a state of either being overpowered or absolutely nerfed, both for the sake of the plot. They should have had their own season

-Stella and Bloom had more chemistry than Sky and Bloom, I am so sorry (Sky was definitely not a bad love interest, but I think Stella did a better job)

-I don't think they should have had any more transformations after Enchantix

-Valtor's kinda overhyped. He's definitely one of the best villains in Winx, buttttt, he could have been better,,, That being said, the fan content of Valtor SLAPS SO HARDDD

-There should be more morally gray/morally good witch characters, and dark magic shouldn't just be automatically considered evil

-Stella was done hella dirty in the later seasons, she went from being the spunky troublemaker diva who loves her friends despite being a little air-headed, to a fashion-obsessed ignorant ass that places her own wants over others' needs, like damn, they deadass took Stella's character that was already a cliche blonde, AND MADE IT MORE CLICHE, AND WORSE

-Diaspro deserved a redemption arc, she did not need to keep playing the bitchy ex for five seasons

-And to top it all off: More characters should have been drawn with pointed ears <3

Winx unpopular opinions (also weird thoughts)

(First off i would love to join a winx community on here, I feel like on tiktok the wimx fandom is very toxic i just want a place where people can tell each other their headcannons and their opinions anyways...)

-Diaspro could've been the next Taylor Swift with the amount of break up material she had on Sky (also girl leave Bloom and Sky alone)

-Season 5 is not that good (I grew up on season 5 and it is the whole reason I got into Winx but watching it with the other seasons it's not the best

-Musa can do so much better than Rivan

-Blooms enchantix should've been her Bloomix power

-Tecnas enchantix is the best

-Nabu should still be alive

-I think it would be so funny to see an episode of Winx with Timmy's prototype design

-Sirenix and Bloomix are their most powerful fairy form

What are yalls unpopular winx opinions????

[orange-sora]

Part 1

Since it a bit different from the topic of the original post, I wanted to address this separately. {It helps me keep track of stuff I post here.}

[Thank you! These tags are by @autisthottygoth]

I may be wrong since I read canon months ago, but somewhere in the extras, Luo Binghe mentioned that Shizun knows a bit too much about stuff. Shen Yuan tried to bullshit his way out of it saying he has read all the books in Qing Jing library, only to realise that straight A student Binghe has also read all the books. Basically, there's a hint in canon that Binghe is onto him.

So yeah, maybe in future, there would be some sort of reveal. The thing is, it most probably won't be initiated by Shen Yuan. Maybe Binghe will tour around his mindscape and find the system. Maybe he'll get his answers. Or maybe he'll come up with batshit conclusions. Who knows?

But I think Shen Yuan is unlikely to reveal things on his own. There are many reasons:

1. He has been conditioned by the System for years not to reveal System's existence.

2. He's unable to justify (to himself) his actions and the hurt that he's caused to LBH. To him, no explanation is good enough. If you've nothing helpful to say, don't say anything at all. [That's how Shen Jiu dealt with his issues too.]

That's why his idea of dealing with the aftermath of the Abyss was planned death for a clean start. He'd rather avoid LBH than be the person who betrayed him. After all, it's very hard to accept that you've hurt someone, esp someone you care and love deeply.

3. He liked playing the role of an elegant scholarly immortal. He's attached to that identity and prefers to maintain that status. It probably makes him feel cool and powerful. That's why, it's easy to discard "Shen Yuan".

SY died young. It's hard to accept yourself in your early 20s. Adolescence teaches people to be embarrassed of their interests and fear judgement. It takes years of unlearning shame to accept oneself. SY didn't have years to accept his truth before he died.

Labels like otaku/fujo etc are hurtful and demeaning. Not bec theres anything wrong with any kind of interests but because the words themselves are used for the purpose of belittling. It puts people into boxes of shame so they feel the need to hide themselves. SY probably found it easier to discard a society (and life) that'd put labels on him.

His shame is still internalised though even if no such judgements exist in SVSSS/PIDW world. No one is moral policing anyone for reading rpf erotica. No one is judging anyone for being gay.

If he admits to who he is, he's admitting to all the labels he carried from his other world too. That's not easy or fun. Better to play pretend a superior version of himself aka Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Yuan's way of dealing with LBH is to indulge him, reassure him, and prioritise him. Ever since he broke the OOC lock, that's what he has done. Even if he wasn't scared, he still would have loved LBH. That is him being himself.

With LBH, he has always been himself. LBH already knows all of his mannerisms, no matter how much he tries to hide behind the fan. SY finds his true self embarrassing or just hard to openly share with others. So being Shen Qingqiu gives him a chance to act like a wise, powerful, and admired mentor. It gives him the chance to be someone worthy of being loved by Luo Binghe. He probably thinks LBH loves him for these qualities. LBH, however, loves him in every form with all his inherent weirdness.

Maybe over time, LBH will feel secure enough in their relationship to ask questions. Maybe SY will have accepted himself and built the communication skills to answer them. Maybe with the passing of time, the hurt would have become manageable and it would be easier to talk about it.

For now though, he's taking his secrets to his grave.

[remuslupinslastbreathofair]

This is well overdue but my life has been quite busy recently and I didn’t realise at first but I hit over 100 followers! I just wanna say a thank you to all the people who cared enough about what I had to say to follow me and also everyone who comments, reblogs or likes my posts, I’ve had so much fun interacting with you. A special thanks to my mutuals, you’re all some of the funniest people I know and are exceptionally cool.

I wanted to do a little something special so I present to you…

“100 Reasons I Love Sirius Black Written by Remus Lupin”

…I hope you enjoy!

100 Reasons I Love Sirius Black

by Remus Lupin

1. His smile

2. His laugh

3. How I’m the only one who can make him laugh silently

4. His perfect hair

5. His hair when it’s not so perfect

6. The way his hair feels against my fingers

7. His dumb jokes

8. His eyes that are the strangest colour

9. How he always has a piece of chocolate for me in his pocket

10. How he lays on my chest as Padfoot

11. How we know what each other’s thinking with just a look

12. His love for David Bowie

13. How sexy he looks while dancing

14. The wink he gives me when he catches me staring

15. His horrible attempts at flirting

16. When he doesn’t do his shirt up all the way

17. The way he looks first thing in the morning

18. Him straight out of the shower

19. How he wordlessly sits next to me while I read

20. His puppy dog eyes

21. How he traces my scars

22. How he doesn’t care about my lycanthropy

23. How he stays in the hospital wing with me after every full moon

24. The way he grabs my shoulders to pull me down to whisper in my ear

25. The way he leans up on his toes to kiss me

26. His wandering hands

27. The way he can’t keep still

28. His stupid nicknames for me

29. The way he rubs my back when I can’t sleep

30. How he sometimes lets me be the little spoon

31. His skincare routine

32. How he sings in the shower when he thinks no one is listening

33. How he talks to himself in front of the mirror

34. His sense of style

35. His leather jacket

36. Him on his motorbike

37. How he absolutely geeks out talking about motorbikes

38. How smart he is

39. How he defies everything a Black is supposed to be

40. His big heart

41. The stick and poke I did on him in 7th year

42. His ear piercing

43. His loyalty

44. His passion for everything he does

45. The intensity in which he loves me

46. How he’s not afraid to love me

47. How much he loves animals

48. The way he kisses me good morning

49. The way he kisses me good night

50. His wit

51. How strongly he loves others

52. His trustworthiness

53. How he still manages to hold me like I’m smaller than him

54. The things he says in his sleep

55. The extravagant dates he plans

56. The books he buys for me because he just ‘thought I’d like it’

57. How we can both listen to music in silence together but it’s still intimate

58. How when he smiles at me from across the room everyone else just fades away

59. How I’m always the first person he looks for when he walks into a room

60. How he make me kiss his papercuts

61. How different he is from anyone else

62. How I feel less awkward standing next to him

63. His fancy handwriting

64. How he loves me at my lowest

65. His easygoingness compared to my overthinking

66. His clinginess

67. The way he rubs his thumb over the back of my hand

68. The way he falls into my arms after a long day

69. His lips

70. How he’s always on my side

71. His mismatched socks

72. How grateful he is for my gifts

73. The flowers he tucks behind me ear

74. The ink stains on his lips from biting his quill

75. The doodles on his hand

76. How we can talk for hours and never run out of anything to say

77. The many pet names he gives me

78. How physically affectionate he is

79. How we play fetch together

80. How he knows exactly what to say to make me feel better

81. How when I hold his jaw he turn to mush

82. His eyelashes

83. The moles on his back

84. How he denies he’s shorter than me

85. How he looks after my scars

86. How he kisses every one of my scars after they’ve healed

87. When he lets me puts braids in his hair

88. When he listens to me ramble about books for hours

89. How much effort he puts into my birthday

90. How mesmerised he is when I take him around where I grew up

91. The sketches of me I find in his notebook

92. His obsession with collecting pins

93. How he matches his nail polish to my outfit

94. How he looks after me when I’m sick

95. How his fingers brush through the curls at the nape of my neck when we’re cuddling

96. The pranks we come up with together

97. The way he bites his lip and furrows his brow when he’s thinking

98. The rings on his fingers

99. How he wears fake silver instead of real silver because he doesn’t want to hurt me

100. How he loves me without a doubt

[thelastchappie]

part 2 to the a/b/o choso drabble from a little while ago

i think i’m gonna go ahead and call this a slow burn.

a/b/o curse au, reader’s pov

i have a an idea for where this will go but i’m making most things up as i go along so if there anything you’d like to see or if you just want to talk choso feel free send me an ask!

anyways i hope you like it!

~

the polite comfort between you and choso has shifted. the one that had been so carefully curated over the past few months the two of you had been living together. and while you can’t reason why it’s happened, you can certainly recognize the source— choso.

his approaches at receiving any form of physical contact from you don’t go unnoticed. never inappropriate, never forceful; but it seems to have become essential for the half-curse to worm his way into your personal space, preferably right before leaving the apartment.

helping brush his hair into his signature hairstyle, after he suddenly ‘forgot’ how to do it himself. sitting a hair too close in the mornings so your shoulders brush— you’re too tired to mind but not enough for it to go unnoticed. standing dutifully by the shoes at the entrance when it’s time to go, has seen you trip and stumble trying to slip them on enough times to know you’ll reach a hand over to use him as a leaning post, if he’s nearby.

you would be inclined to believe the man is simply craving affection; after so much change and loss, following his release from over a hundred years of captivity. it didn’t seem entirely out of the realm of possibility that choso was simply seeking comfort in his many, somewhat peculiar ways.

and you’re more than happy to humor the half-curse in his efforts. however, his general lack of communication means you’re not entirely willing to make it easy for him. for the time being you’ve decided to let the man continue to figure out his excuses for the day, until he’s ready to come clean as to what’s on his mind, that is.

but the changes don’t stop there, though.

perhaps it would be easier to ignore. if the extent of choso’s shift in behavior was simply due to his new desire for affection and, possibly, lack of knowledge as to how to communicate these needs.

it’s his general disposition towards you that has changed.

where you where used to seeing polite indifference, verging on amiability between acquaintances, as time passed— now there’s a clear and defined attentiveness towards you. An interest towards your safety that you could almost compare to that of a mother hen.

~

you first notice it the day choso’s assigned a mission with yuuji, one of your first assignments where you don’t have him follow along.

the curse is an odd one, manages to catch you off guard more than once before you’re able to successfully eliminate it. in result you leave the fight with a few more cuts and bruises than normal, but still not entirely unusual given your occupation.

you arrive at the apartment much later than expected, due to your visit to the infirmary to let shoko look over any larger injuries that might need healing. the pair of siblings are already there, yuuji has decided to seize the opportunity to watch one of his favorite movies.

you barely have a chance to mumble out your tired apologies for being so late, before choso is shooting up from the couch— presumably at your less-than put together appearance.

you’ve managed to lock the door behind you, turning to look for the nearest surface to dump the jacket draped over your forearm— when you’re met with wide eyes and hovering hands that don’t quite dare to make contact yet.

even the teen looks stunned to suddenly be sitting alone on the couch, both of you left momentarily speechless at the half-curse’s reaction. choso barely notices, as he continues his assessment of the various scrapes and bruises littering what little skin he can see.

“what is this??” he hisses, an unfamiliar rumbling from deep in his chest affecting the timbre of his voice.

you’re still reeling from the unexpected greeting, when the tips of his fingers finally make contact with the underside of your chin. the half-curse tilting your face up to get a better look at a particularly unpleasant-looking bruise blooming on your temple.

“what is— huh?” is all you can come up with, you’re not sure what he’s referring to: the bruise, or the situation. you don’t know what this is either.

“a bruise..? i was on a mission, you knew that” you try answering both; you were fighting a curse, that should be explanation enough.

it doesn’t seem to be.

choso shakes his head like you’re not understanding him, and you aren’t. nothing about his reaction makes sense to you. “this doesn’t happen” he insists, his voice still sounding gravelly— a growl?

and he’s right, this mission should have been dealt with much sooner; and it would have, had it not been for the curse’s unusual behavior. the assignment certainly didn’t warrant the current state of disrepair you find yourself in.

still, you can’t help but grow defensive at his statement. did he not think you were capable of doing your own job??

he starts again before you have a chance to say anything, “the curse, what happene—“,

“i handled it” you interrupt, your tone snappier than your would have normally preferred. but it’s been long day and your patience had worn thin hours ago.

“you know, i’ve been doing this gig for years now and i’ve made it this far doing missions by myself” your shoulders are almost up to your ears, and every word forces your chin to press against his fingers. but you continue.

“and i don’t appreciate the insinuation that i might need you there to protect me”

a few seconds of silence pass, and the fight immediately leaves your body after your small outburst. all you can do is sigh. you look towards the teen, still sitting stunned on the couch, and immediately shame crawls up the back of your spine at your short fuse.

the half-curse stares, eyes wide and startled by your response. he doesn’t seem offended, or upset by you snapping at him. another series of emotions seem to follow, each just as confusing as the next. after his initial shock, his brows furrow; like maybe now he’s not understanding you.

“im sorry, im just tired. i do appreciate your help.” you sigh once more, a hand coming up to pat his chest in a way you hope is reassuring. “but im fine, okay? these things happen, i took care of it”

choso shakes his head,

“no, i apologize— i didn’t mean to imply you can’t protect yourself” his voice is softer now, the foreign rumble in his chest having died down. the fingers under your chin retreat like he’s only just realized they were there. the tension in his body replaced with sheepishness, pink dusting his cheeks as he takes a step back. you almost stumble forward with him, not realizing how much you’d started to lean on him.

with a clear of your throat, you’re doing your best to straighten up; hobbling past choso and beelining for your room. on your way past the back of the couch you reach a hand to pat the younger boy’s shoulder and offer an “sorry about that, yuuji”.

“have you guys eaten yet? can you order something while i get cleaned up?” you call out, mostly to the pink-haired teen, as you enter your room. “i’m starving and the last thing i wanna do right now is cook”.

~

choso does more than just follow you around out of obligation, now. he hovers. he stands a touch closer than he did before, you could barely take a step without looking and not risk bumping into the half-curse.

he’s always staring. at you; at others when they get too close, when they interrupt you during meetings; you have to grab his arm and force him to keep moving if someone is bold enough to bump your shoulder while walking. he doesn’t intervene, not really; though his face is one of genuine offense on your behalf each time.

you’re as flattered as you are confused.

it’s quite refreshing to have another person so fiercely on your side, even if you’re not sure where his behavior has come from. however, choso has a tendency to fuss; much like he does to his younger brother. he watches, he worries, he protects.

he has an uncanny ability of almost sniffing out an injury, no matter how small.

you’re barely even safe from his hovering in the safety of your own apartment. he’s under no obligation to follow you around when you were home, and previously he wouldn’t have any desire to. now he always finds any excuse to stay close.

this evening, you’re successful in convincing choso you can prepare dinner without assistance. after brushing off his several attempts, that is. the day has been a rarely idle one. you find yourself finally able to indulge in a home cooked meal, and a moment to breathe.

the dark-haired man sits a mere few feet away, you play music on the tv for even more ambience and leave the lyrics on display for him. he seems to enjoy taking in the words being said, you think maybe it helps him understand humans in some way. he asks questions about phrases or words that might be unfamiliar to him, or what the song itself might be trying to express.

“i like this one” he’ll confess softly, usually a sappy song with lyrics lacking any confusing slang; though his interests do vary, his focus is always geared towards the words being sung over the melody. you’ll hum in acknowledgment, and save the song to the playlist you’ve created for him with a smile.

this evening is no different, he sits and listens, reads; occasionally, he peers over the back of couch. to check on you, you assume. he watches for a moment, quietly assessing before he turns back to face the tv.

and although you already know the extent of his ability to fret, you still decide to want to test the waters. maybe you just want to mess with him a little, though you wouldn’t admit to that.

you wait for choso to focus his attention towards the screen, having already accidentally caught his eye when he was looking. he doesn’t waver at being caught staring; simply turns back around after a few moments of eye contact.

and once again, you’re not entirely sure why, maybe just to see what would happen. but you pretend to hiss out in pain, and carefully let the knife in your hand clatter against the countertop when you drop it. quickly, your grasp your pointer finger in your other palm like you’ve nicked it.

immediately he’s in your space, one hand coming up brush the hand covering your finger out of the way. he holds your ‘injured’ hand in his own, the other resting over your palm to keep it opened. worried eyes roam over your fingers, looking for damage.

he finds perfectly unharmed skin.

his eyes linger for a few beats, double-checking his initial findings. then, his gaze makes his way up to meet your own; questioning.

you simply stare back for a few seconds, fighting back a smile at the poor half-curse’s confusion. he keeps your hand in his hold, like he’s still not convinced.

“must’ve just been a graze” you suspect the mirth in your voice must give you away. you watch his eyes narrow the tiniest bit, and his head tilts like he’s trying to figure you out. the tension in his shoulders gradually disappears, he makes no move to leave your personal space, though. he simply hums.

“i can help finish the rest” he offers, eyes drifting towards the knife on the table; like he’s only just realizing the threat it poses.

and it’s then you realize the mistake you’ve made.

“noooo nonono, i was just messing with you— it was dumb im sorry” you’re immediately attempting to minimize the consequences of your little joke. “i’ve been using knives for longer, i’ll be okay” you can’t help but laugh a little at how ridiculous the situation is.

“i can learn, i can help” choso doesn’t seem bothered by your revelation, probably already caught along. it doesn’t change his current goal.

“that’s very nice of you, thank you” you say through your giggles, endeared by his desire to help. “how about next time i show you and you do the work, okay?” you offer, the free hand not in his grasp coming up to rest on his collarbone.

choso was back to staring at you the moment you started laughing. though he sends wary looks at the sharp object like it’s offended him somehow. he’s not completely satisfied with the answer, but he assents with a small nod.

“great! now go sit down, please. i still have to finish this” you give him a small nudge in direction of the living room. and with one last glare at the knife, he takes a step back from you; his hand brushes over your palm when he lets your hand go. and he’s finally making his way back to take a seat,

at the kitchen table across from you.

“right”, you can’t help but blow air through your nose in amusement. you decide to pick your battles. and this is a battle you walked right into yourself. you pick up the knife, and after making a small ‘ooooh’ sound, you watch his eyebrows furrow. you decide to stop trying to be funny around sharp objects.

you also decide it’s best not to create targets in your own home.

[smoltimidturtle]

I'm going ahead and taking part in this. But I'll just be doing all of them in two big post because I know I'll forget to do these every day 😅 Also BIGGGGG spoilers for OW, so read at your own risk!!!!

Day 1: When did you first play OW and how did you find it?

I first played Our Cinderella! The reason I got introduced to it was because it was in the Palestine Relief Bundle over on itch.io last year.

Day 2: Who is your favourite character, or who do you relate to the most?

I can't choose between Iggy, Orlam and Genzou as my fav 😅But I definitely relate to Iggy the most! I've always struggled to to express my feelings, or just finding the right words in general. Also being the people pleaser in the group, looking back I can see I was the Iggy out of all the friends. All because I wanted to make sure everyone was happy. Which might've meant that others got left out, or I let some snide remarks slide, or even pushing any of my own needs and happiness to the side.

Day 3: What was the biggest surprise/unexpected moment/ twist for you playing OW?

It, of course, has to be Iggy's final wish and making his own choice in the end. ALSO CECIL IN THE END asfdaagve

Day 4: What's your favourite CG's from the game?

(I just love the lighting in this one!!)

Day 5: Have you made any OW fanwork?

YES! I literary just finished one! (you can see my post from before this one!)

Day 6: Which OW side game is your favourite?

I've only played 2 of them (so my opinion may change) but my favourite one would have to be OFW!

Day 7: Do you have any personal OW AU's?

Honestly haven't delved too much in any AU"s....so I don't really know how to answer this one. And mostly my mind is drawing a blank ��

Day 8: Are there any scenes in OW that made you cry?

While the entire game hurt my heart, and feelings, there were only a handful of times when I actually cried. Genzou's death in Arc 4, the entire start of Arc 5, the scene after fighting Bucks in Arc 5, Iggy's choice, finding Saydie in the tree, and Genzou/Iggy's route in Arc 5!

Day 9: What are some of your favourite tracks from the OST?

Day 10: If you had unlimited resources, what type of OW side game would you create?

Probably something like a beach episode, or just anything wholesome after the horrors they went through in the main game. AND each one of them gets a big ol' hug (there has to be at least one group hug scene!)

Day 11: Do you have anything you've brought because it reminded you of OW?

Not yet, but the way that this game has had me in a chokehold I probably will! Because I can't stop thinking about it 😩

Day 12: Do you have any personal OW headcannons?

One where Genzou and Orlam made peace with each other when Genzou was able to finally accept himself for who he is, and not feel bad about being gay! (mostly cause I hate seeing Orlam getting bullied/hurt so much....the poor man needs a break!)

Day 13: Do you have any favourite lines from the game?

I'm going to say every single line, because the whole thing was writen beautifully! (and not because I can't think of a single line!)

Day 14: How many times have you played the game?

I've only played through it once! Although I did get all the different endings/epilogue's because I can't get enough of this game😭

Day 15: Have you played the Alpha version of the remaster?

Not yet, but I plan to once it fully comes out (because I like to make myself suffer)!

And now for the 2nd part of my anniversary celebration... 30 Days of Our Wonderland! A set of silly and/or thought-provoking prompts about the game and chars for a full month of OW!

I'll be answering them each day. Feel free to join in if you want to! Either creating your own posts or reblogging this one, etc. I'll be using the hashtag #30DaysofOW for all of my answers.

[thaltro]

You mentioned once that Scell was a “class 2 citizen” in the omega timeline and is therefore restricted from using certain kinds of magic, which is a statement that brings up so many questions. What are the different classes of omega timeline citizens? Was this system implemented for “public safety” or to dissuade excessive immigration to the omega timeline (especially from more violent or desperate aus)? Who put this system in place? What political system DOES the omega timeline even HAVE? ¿¿¿Es Core Frisk Presidente???

It’s interesting to me how much you specifically care about nightwatch and how accurate you are

All classes below 3 (so 0,1,2) are on a Chip system. This is essentially capitalism.

-Class 2 individuals come from violent timelines but don’t necessarily have High LV or are a corrupteds. Think a normal underfell civilian. There is a lot of stigma against violent timelines, so as an attempt to encourage “pacifism socialization” they are barred from the free food and healthcare programs.

To afford healthcare and food they are paid in chips which is the currency. To get chips they have to have a job.

Because they need to pay for housing and food and everything, class 2 individuals tend to stay in cultural pockets in the cities and towns.

-Class 1 is full of corrupteds and exceptionally high LV citizens. These people are considered hazards to the OT and are not allowed in certain spaces, can be banned from jobs, or can be fully removed from the OT. They are also on a chip system like Class 2, it’s just they have less options to gain said chips.

-Both Class1+2 have the choice of entering SAR, which is a volunteer program. If you gain 150 SAR points (100hrs of volunteer work = 1 SAR point) You are put up one class. (For class 1 they need to reach 200 SAR points). So most Class 1+2 adults have two jobs, one unpaid SAR job for point collection and one job to get chips.

(If you work full time in SAR without collecting chips it would take around 7yrs for Class 2 and 10yrs for Class 1)

What’s the benefit of going up to reach class 3? Class 3 citizens get everything for free! Free healthcare, housing, food etc. pretty niceee.

Above class 3 is class 4, these people have political power. Typically to be class 4 you need to be extremely powerful in a way that can benifit the society. For example Ink is class 4 because his magic is used to landscape timelines for housing and scenery. He also has a connection with creators. Reaper tales (in nightwatch I just call it Mythtale) are also class 4 as they are close to creators and their god like abilities are used to help society function.

Another way to be class 4 is if your from a rare timeline (like ink again as an example) it’s seen as being a special creation to the creators.

Overall class 4 is religious and political power.

There’s no one president so core is definitely not the leader. Instead it’s governed by class 4 and the votes of class 3.

Ugly picture to visualize it.

Oh and there’s objects, they don’t rlly matter that’s like the whole point.

[ciel-phantomhives-world]

I've seen many Kuroshitsuji fans say that nobody OBVIOUSLY cares about the nameless twin because otherwise they would have asked about his whereabouts or whatever happened to him in that one month as well.

Well, let me put my 2 cents in on this. I think it's totally unfair to actually consider that as a FACT. First of all, Yana wrote the chapters till the green witch arc in such a clever way where nobody could actually tell if there are definitely 2 boys or not (unless it's the most observant ones connecting the dots together). She purposefully worded the dialogues of the characters in such a manner so that the readers don't immediately realize about a mysterious twin but also dropped random hints here and there. Otherwise where's the fun (the epic, well planned, dramatic reveal)? It's quite obvious that it was done for plot convenience and for a huge plot twist. Also, for more information about this topic, we'll just have to wait and see what happens in the future with the manga instead of treating assumptions as facts. Who knows, we might see the twins from other family members' perspective as well, just like a flashback but a more neutral one and perhaps we can learn more new information. (Unlike the flashbacks that we saw from OCiel's perspective which kinda seemed biased in some ways)

However, if we want to address this issue from the characters' perspective anyway (without taking the plot twist into account) then let's think about Madam Red. She clearly asked OCiel about what happened in that one month. But he didn't say anything, right? What can you do when somebody close to you is traumatized and doesn't want to speak about it? You may try asking them once or twice, indirectly, without mentioning the dead loved ones or anything specifically related to the trauma, so that it might be easier for the victim to open up and madam red knew that but if that doesn't work out then it's better to give it up (unless you're a cop or detective on a case then it's a different thing). It didn't work out for madam red, unfortunately. It's not like she asked about Vincent or Rachel specifically, either. But nobody points that out. Nobody says that "None of the characters asked anything about Vincent or Rachel which means they don't give a damn about them either and only cares about Ciel or blah blah blah."

Did Lizzie ask OCiel the same question about that one month? I can't remember it but even she saw the vibe OCiel was giving. Being all quiet, distant and all. She knew that asking him about his brother or anything related would only further agonize him, remind him even more of the trauma, might make him even more distant towards her and so on because everybody knew that the twins looked quite inseparable. They all probably thought that it's better to stay silent and not mention anything of the past for "Ciel's" sake. And as for Francis, Alexis and Edward, it's still a mystery about how they reacted after hearing that only "Ciel" came back 3 years back. We have yet to see their reactions.

We just know a few things about all of them. Those being:

1) they all probably assumed that the fire killed everybody that were in the mansion except Tanaka

2) then OCiel came back as Ciel and he never told anybody anything. So, again they probably assumed that either the other twin died in the fire or was with him the entire time but since he didn't come back with the twin, so he obviously died cuz he was already weak and how could he survive without anybody looking after him or guiding him? He definitely would have been with "Ciel" and the Butler, Sebastian, if he was indeed alive and so, in order to not remind "Ciel" of those awful memories, they didn't ask anything although some tried to some extent (as much as we know for now) and they sort of buried the memories just like "Ciel" did since it seemed hopeless anyway and not because they didn't care. Rather they probably cared and prioritized more about the only one that's still alive and for his wellbeing, they decided to remain quiet.

[peechglaze]

I think Ellie and Jesse's fight in s207 is really important, well done, and is one of the best scenes of season 2.

This got incredibly out of hand but this scene has stuck with me and I haven't stopped thinking about it all day. So here's my analysis on the fight and what I think it means.

Jesse is upset because Ellie is being reckless. He's angry because she's being selfish and he struggles to comprehend why she would put herself and others in danger like this. He knows that she's smart, and that if she thought everything through with a clear mind that this entire thing wouldn't be as unnecessarily risky as it is. But she hasn't, and she's putting others in danger.

And this is because he's been raised by a community. Jackson brought him in, raised him, took care of him. He's grown up with the love and support of an entire town, and he does his best to give back. He organises and takes lead on patrols, he steps up and rebuilds Jackson after the attack. He gets elected to be on the council because he works so hard to keep his community safe. He is fiercely loyal and protective, and that's what Jackson needs when Maria steps down. Someone who is willing to put other people first.

But it's this loyalty that has led him here to Seattle. The man who voted no to the Seattle trip snuck out the next day to go after Ellie and Dina. Why? Because he wants to make sure his friends are okay. He wants to bring them home. And this is once again putting other people before his own needs, but I would argue that this is a more selfish decision than the one before. Because the community didn't send him after them. The community didn't send Tommy, either. They both decided to risk their lives to bring two people they love home.

And I think there's guilt in Jesse for that. I think he's upset with his own obligation to go after Ellie because it's conflicting what he was raised by. He feels like he's letting Jackson down, but his friends' problems are his problems.

On the other hand, Ellie is angry at Jesse because he calls her out on her selfishness, but doesn't give her the grace or understanding that she thinks she deserves.

Because not once has Ellie ever had community. She is an orphan that has never had anyone stable in her life who genuinely loved and cared for her apart from her best and only friend who died and left her behind. Then she is handed off to Joel who does the unthinkable for her, and sure she's incredibly and justifiably angry with him, but he is the only person in this entire world who will ever understand what she has been through. And they're living in a nice and protected town where they're meant to live out the rest of their natural lives, where they can be Ellie and Joel, and Joel and Ellie-- until he is brutally murdered in front of her as she is forced to watch.

And when she goes to what is meant to be her community? The one that Jesse thinks she should be grateful to have because they took her in just like how they did him? When she attends the council meeting and stands up in front of everyone and practically begs for help? They tell her no, that Joel was one man and we need to think of the many-- never taking into account that that one man was all she had.

And she feels like Jesse is such a hypocrite for saying all of this because he would do the same as her, right? But it turns out that he was one of the people who said no, and it breaks her heart. It feels like her community just got so much smaller.

I much prefer this scene to the one we get in the game. It's messy and it's loud. Ellie cracks in front of Jesse in a way that she hasn't yet with the people she loves. She's sick and tired of being told what to do, of being made lesser than because she's doing this. Made to feel like she is a bad person like Abby for wanting this. She's so far gone at this point that she doesn't care that her anger is bleeding into her relationships in a way that she can't just shove down and repress.

And it's all going to make the decision that Ellie makes at the very end have so much weight, right? Because Dina wanted to leave, Jesse never wanted them to go in the first place and Tommy has abandoned his family and town to go after her-- and now they're all here because of Ellie.

Dina is pregnant and hurt, Jesse is dead, Tommy has been disabled and Abby is here just like Ellie wanted, but she has the upper hand. And Ellie is scared, because she was fine (she wasn't) when she was the one hunting, but now she feels hunted and she is just a girl.

She's always been just a girl.

And her community is getting beaten to death in front of her as she is forced to watch.

[spr1ngpvrinbunny]

UUM I don't usually request stuff because I'm shy, but I love the AUs and situations you come up with so I'm being brave!

I was wondering lately how you think Dave would handle working with someone who loves horror so Reader is fascinated by all the supernatural stuff going on? I can see it being chaotic with Reader's urge to see all the spooky things going on~. 👀

And of course, thank you for so much content I love it all and it gives me inspiration to draw out some of these things. ❤️

Dave Miller / William Afton x Horror-Enthusiast Reader Headcanon

⚙️ The Setup

Reader is someone who breathes in the eerie and exhales wonder. Ghost stories? Their lullabies. Cursed places? Their dream vacations. EVP recordings, haunted attractions, true crime documentaries, obscure paranormal forums at 3AM? All of it—we’re talking full devotion to the macabre.

Now picture Dave Miller—William Afton veiled in a stolen skin of normalcy. He’s hiding centuries of sin and whispers of restless spirits behind a worn uniform, a tired smirk, and cold, calculative eyes that flicker with something not quite human.

And then… enter you.

🔮 How He Reacts to Reader’s Fascination

1. Amused at First…

At the beginning, he’s entertained. Genuinely amused. There's something darkly ironic about this—he, the very cause of so many hauntings, working beside someone who wants to see the ghosts.

“You do know ghosts aren’t as pretty as the movies make ‘em, yeah?” he mutters one night, watching you poke around the dusty storage room with a spirit box.

He watches you with the same quiet intensity as one would a child playing too close to a loaded mousetrap. His lips curl in that sardonic little half-smile—but there’s a twitch in the corner of his eye. This is dangerous. For you, not him.

2. Goaded into Playing Along

You beg him to come with you to explore the "forbidden hallway" of the pizzeria after hours. You talk to shadows like they’re friends. You name the animatronics like they’re pets, even when their eyes flicker red in the dark.

Sometimes, he goes along just to watch. Other times, he tries to scare you—subtly at first. The lights flicker. You hear a distant laugh that wasn’t quite human. Your equipment malfunctions. He’s testing you.

"Still fascinated, sweetheart?" His voice, a velvet knife in your ear as he suddenly appears behind you, too close. He always watches for the fear—the shift in your eyes. And when he doesn’t see it? That’s what gets under his skin.

3. Tug-of-War Between Ego and Paranoia

Here’s the beautiful chaos: he wants to impress you, and he wants to keep you far, far away from the truth.

He loves the way your eyes light up at horror, but hates the idea of you finding the real rot under the floorboards. Because if you dig too deep, you’ll find the bloodstains he couldn’t scrub clean. The cries he can still hear in his dreams. The pieces of him scattered in the suits.

“Ghosts aren’t toys,” he snaps once, harsher than he means to. “Some things don’t want to be seen.”

But your fascination makes you keep looking, and oh—how that drives him mad.

4. Soft Possessiveness

Eventually, something like fear grows in him—but not of you. For you.

Because what if something else finds you? Something he accidentally called up? Something he made?

“You wanna see monsters, fine,” he says one night, dragging you out of a locked-off room by the wrist. “But I draw the line at feeding yourself to them.”

His hand lingers just a bit too long. His voice trembles—not from rage. From something harder to name. Something almost… desperate.

🔥 The Chaos Dynamic

You: "Do you think the Marionette actually moves at night? I swear I saw its head tilt—"

Him: Sighs like a man dragging a stubborn puppy away from a cliff. “It doesn’t move, love. It hunts.”

You: "Wait—what?"

Him: "...Nothing. Just keep your fingers out of its reach."

💀 Bonus: If Reader Gets Too Close to the Truth

If you do find out who he really is… oh, that’s when it gets tragic, violent, beautifully operatic. He might try to scare you off. Gaslight you. Even consider silencing you—but he hesitates.

Because you see him. Not just the killer. Not just the ghost-maker. But the sad, broken, rotting man behind the curtain. And worse—you still want to stay.

"You're not scared of me?" "Terrified. But I never said I didn't love the thrill."

[hellostarposts]

Episode 80 - The Librarian

I think that it's safe to assume that mystery man is the librarian.

Jon thinks that everyone is a danger to him.

Norwegian?????

OMG ITS JURGEN LEITNER.

So its a book (seven lamps) that causes the victim to feel like the walls are closing in.

Additionally, said book interacts well with Smirkes architecture.

So I was right the tunnels were created by him.

We already knew that the books didn’t have to be read out loud.

So it was Jurgen changing the tunnels.

Awe it’s kinda sweet that he was changing the tunnels for Jon.

So the Not-Them was trying to get Leitner.

A disappearance.

Reading 1 or 2 words hides him from the prying eyes of Jon’s Master (elias).

Where are the tapes of Leitner talking to Gertrude.

Over 20 years???

Is in fact connected to mill bank prison.

Am I supposed to feel bad for Leitner? Because I’m starting to feel bad for him.

Leitner is just what Jon could become in the future.

He did not want to be a nepo baby.

Uh did Salesa learn from LEitner.

Smirke also had writings to accompany his architecture.

He got a house built to store the books.

Weird visitors, they are the “students”

One assistant was stabbed through the throat by a monster with too many teeth and limbs like knives.

One assistant was pulled into a cavernous moore that opened up on the floor.

Another ran into a door that shouldn’t have been there.

Another was plucked away by a hand that reached down from the ceiling.

Last one was pulled into a pulsating pile of meat.

Some rooms were consumed by darkness

Others were consumed by flames that left the books untouched.

At least Leitner is honest about the mistakes he made.

1000 books?!?! God, I want that many books.

Were him and Gertrude a thing?

All of Gertrude’s assistants died? 

Key of Solomon was a mistake. Several different powers.

ENTITY EXPLANATIONS INCOMING

Next to the world? That's a fun way to put it.

So the entities are in fact controlling the pocket dimensions.

Similar to the old pantheons but more complicated.

We glossed over how the church of the divine host is worshipping one of them.

So the books have some of the entity’s essence within them?

Micheal is The Distortion (it is lying)

The spiral is made to confuse and cause insanity.

Leitner did not kill Gertrude.

Mic drop is that it’s Elias.

Which files do you need?

So Elias manipulated the camera because he can control eyes?

Jon we all kinda knew that the institute was not a regular building,

The eye = the beholding

JON DON’T GO START SMOKING.

Awe Leitner misses Gertrude.

NOOOOO ELIAS IS GONNA DO IT AGAIN.

The Stranger?? The Unknowing???

So Elias wants to stop the entities but on his own terms.

Beating him to death is like the least efficient way.

Oh god the sound of dripping blood.

Ha ha Elias is an idiot and didn’t take the tape.

Jon is going into shock.

I still like Tim’s attitude about dealing with the stuff.

Oof Jon is being framed for another murder.

That is actually so much information to process all at once. Yay we finally meet Leitner, boo for Elias beating him to death. At least he was able to open Pandora's box of entities for Jon. Who is now going to either be on the run from the cops or in a padded room. 

After last season's finale basically being an accidental discovery. It’s so nice to see Jon be completely fooled into doing exactly what the Not-Them wanted him to do. Also, on the topic of the Not-Them. Who gave it the right to be so good at taunting? Because that shit was top tier. The amount of dread it created within me because I just know it’s going to be a part of the breakdown that Jon is going to have. 

This is a fantastic season finale but it’s also giving “to be continued”. Like what do you mean we get to meet Jurgen Leitner who opens a massive can of worms for Jon. Causes Jon to go back to smoking (which I hate but it also makes total sense). We find out that basically every statement is just a small group of bored entities being weirdos. And they all want Leitner dead and I’m assuming will soon want Jon dead.

I’m going to guess this once and probably forget about it. Whatever is going on with Elias is either he used one of the books, or was given powers by one of the entities. Because what do you mean Master??? Obviously he’s in charge of the institute but if the institute is a “living” thing then would it be an extension of Elias? There’s too many ways I could theorize that. Much simpler to say that he’s the bitch of an entity.

I’m so surprised that Tim and Martin seemingly made it out of the distortion without turning out like Helen. I like to think it’s because they were together and thus had something to ground themselves. However, they immediately find Leitner’s dead body with no Jon in sight will definitely lead to Tim doubling down on the Jon hate train and poor Martin is going to be so conflicted. 

Okay this has gotten to a point where I am just summarizing but like how else am I supposed to digest all of the bombs that were just dropped.