#like yes please tell me why i’m a terrible person because i don’t think this character death is problematic

[queer-reader-07]

i love when people seemingly do everything in their power to interpret what you’re saying in the most bad faith way possible. it’s so fun and nice. (sarcasm)

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tim Bradford x fiancé rookie!fem!reader please? When the reader is a rookie and she pulled over her fiancé. Cute fluff 😂

https://youtube.com/shorts/zGueyvDS8DI?si=NOJ5fjs6HqbNdwYD

I love this! I hope you enjoy!!🤍 Picture from Pinterest

Warnings: fluff, Nyla Harper (this probably doesn't need an explanation). rookie!reader, 1.8k+ words.

Flirting With Cops

“I’m sorry, I don’t- run me through this one more time,” Nyla says, somewhere between exasperated and interested. “You had a secret boyfriend that nobody knew about, and then you just show up with a rock after a weekend off? Secret boyfriend is now secret fiancé?”

“Kinda,” you answer, slowing as you approach an intersection.

“Kinda. Elaborate?” Nyla asks, leaning forward with wide eyes.

“I thought you didn’t like to talk about personal lives in the shop,” you argue.

“I don’t talk about my personal life in the shop. Right now, we’re talking about yours.”

You don’t answer, but Nyla’s eyes remain on you. Sighing, you make a right turn as you decide where to start.

“Secret boyfriend is secret fiancé now, yes,” you begin. “But he’s been secret fiancé for a while. I just forgot to take my ring off this morning. And I mean, I didn’t think it was a problem if I didn’t tell anyone I was seeing-“

“If you told me right now, would I be the first to know?” Nyla interjects.

“No. Grey knows.”

“Grey? Wade Grey? Sergeant Grey, Watch Commander-”

“Yes, that Grey. I needed an afternoon off to deal with some relationship stuff a while back, so I told him.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know how my fiancé would feel about that.”

Nyla sits back, quiet until she says, “He doesn’t get to decide who you tell about your life. How am I supposed to decide if he is good enough for you?”

“I thought TOs thought boots weren’t good enough, shouldn’t that be the other way around?” you joke.

Nyla says your name, and you immediately turn serious.

“Harper, I just- it’s not about him controlling me, and he doesn’t, I promise. I’m just not sure why it’s a problem.”

“Not a problem, just a trust and general welfare thing. I need to know that you’re okay all the time because your personal life impacts your cop life.”

“Got it. I will let you know if anything worth mentioning arises.”

“As your friend though-“

“We’re friends?”

Nyla says your last name, a quick warning. “As your friend, I want to know that he’s good enough for you because it’s what you deserve as a person, regardless of your career. Dating is a- there’s a lot that can and does go wrong in the dating world, but Los Angeles is a different animal. If you’re engaged, I’ll assume you know him well, but if or when you want to trust me with this, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Harper.”

“And tomorrow is plain clothes day, so if you want to talk about him while I’m not here, feel free.”

You chuckle, hitting the sirens and answering, “Yes, ma’am,” before calling in a traffic stop.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey,” Tim greets.

“I’m mad at you,” you reply, closing the door and moving around him.

“I’m sorry. Although I’d like to know what I’m sorry for,” Tim replies, his brows raised.

Setting your bag on the counter, you raise your left hand and look at him.

“I apologize for… proposing?” Tim guesses.

You sigh, dropping your head and your hand in tandem. Tim walks to you, and you let him pull you into a hug, putty in his hands as he holds you close.

“You- you put my ring on this morning before work and I forgot to take it off,” you murmur.

“So, our friends and coworkers know? Is that a problem?”

“Of course not. I’m not ashamed of you or trying to hide this or anything, Tim. I just- Nyla wants to know everything to decide if my fiancé is good enough for me.”

“And what will she find?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” you joke.

“Maybe I’ll tell her that it was a pity proposal. You’re a terrible fiancée.”

“I love you,” you reply, kissing his cheek.

“You’re a terrible fiancée… who doesn’t play fair,” Tim repeats, softening under your hands and kisses.

“What are you doing with your day off tomorrow?” you ask. “I know you miss plain clothes day.”

“I don’t know,” Tim answers, his hands sliding from your waist to the curve of your hip. “Rob a liquor store or something to see if you’re ready to ride alone, I guess.”

“Hmm. I was hoping for a real husband and not a prison husband.”

“Don’t start with me,” Tim warns.

“You brought up the liquor store!”

Tim’s hands tighten gently, his fingers pressing into you. You chuckle, leaning against him again as you sigh.

“You’re just going to sit here and miss me, I knew it,” you say against his shirt.

“You’ve got me figured out. Guess you’re good enough for me at least.”

“You guess?”

Tim doesn’t give you time to finish teasing him, pulling you impossibly closer as he kisses you to silence you. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“Just remember that I’m not here. Our shift got bumped so we’re working into the night, but don’t let that mess you up. You can do this as long as you remember what you’ve learned and apply it,” Nyla says, buckling her seatbelt.

“Nolan warned me that you were intense, but you’re really nice to me,” you reply.

Nyla doesn’t answer, invisible while you ride alone. Smiling to yourself, you wonder if talking about your fiancé would make her break.

✯✯✯✯✯

Thirty minutes after sunset, you haven’t done much on plain clothes day. Completed a few routine traffic stops, responded to two domestic calls, and narrowly avoided a flat tire, but nothing unusual or extreme. Your shift is nearly over, and while it’s too late to visit Tim, you’re ready to get home and rest before seeing him tomorrow.

Driving through Tim’s neighborhood as you finish your patrol, you hit the sirens when a blue pickup truck runs a stop sign. Nyla exits the shop as you do, standing at the back of the vehicle while you approach the window.

“Good eve-“ you begin, freezing when you see who is sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Can I help you, officer?” Tim asks, failing to hide his smile as he sits back in the seat.

“I, uh… you ran a stop sign.”

“Yeah,” Tim answers. “But, surely, there’s some way you can let me go. Right, officer?”

“It’s frowned upon to flirt with police officers during traffic stops, sir.”

You suddenly remember Nyla is behind you and glance over, unsurprised to find her watching you intently.

“Uh, Harper, would you give a fellow cop a ticket for running a stop sign?” you ask.

“I’m not here,” she reminds you, failing to hide that she wants to know who’s in the truck.

Turning back to Tim, you ask, “License and registration?”

Tim nods, pulling his wallet out and handing it to you. When you open it and have no problem finding both, Nyla begins fidgeting. 

“Whose car is this?” you ask quietly.

“Rental. My sister needed help moving something but my power steering’s acting up.”

Nodding, you hand his wallet back.

“I’m going to let you off with a warning, sir, but regardless of whether or not you live here and know how busy the intersection is, you need to stop.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tim replies, brushing his fingers over yours.

He drives away as you and Nyla get back in the shop. Her eyes are on you, but she remains silent. When your watch beeps at the end of your shift, and you’re still two blocks from the station, she breaks.

“Who was that? You were flirting so I thought it was your fiancé or something but then you asked about a fellow cop,” Nyla says quickly, not taking a breath until she’s done.

“You weren’t there,” you argue. “You didn’t see a thing.”

Nyla groans. “I will find out. I know I told you it was your decision to trust me, but I need you to trust me. Please?”

“Maybe tomorrow. When you’re back in the shop with me. By the way, how’d I do?”

“You did great. Until the end. That last traffic stop was iffy but since it was a fellow cop I’ll give you a pass on that one. You did check everything and give a warning, so I can’t really ask for more.”

Sighing, you park in the station lot and turn off the ignition. 

“Thanks, Harper. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Oh, you most definitely will.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“This isn’t going to end well for me,” you whisper as you walk into the station.

“It’ll be fine,” Tim promises.

“You don’t have to ride with Harper after she finds out!”

“Hey,” Tim calls, gently hooking his fingers behind your bicep to pull you back to his side. “You will be fine.”

“I know. Thank you.”

A few minutes later, as you enter roll call, Nyla sits on the table in the front row.

“Spill,” she demands.

“Wait, what’s happening?” Angela asks.

“She’s dating a cop. Scratch that- she’s engaged to a cop. Pulled him over last night and got all flirty.”

“No ‘what happens in the shop stays in the shop’?” you ask.

“Nope. Now, do we know him?” Nyla asks.

You nod, and Angela asks, “Have we worked with him often?”

“Yes.”

“Is he in this room?” Nyla asks, looking over her shoulder.

“No.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I was having serious concerns about your taste in men,” Nyla sighs.

“Was he driving his own car last night?” Angela inquires.

“Oh, that’s a good question. I didn’t recognize it,” Nyla adds.

“No, it was a rental,” you explain.

“Just spit it out!” Nyla begs.

“Harper!” Tim yells, stepping inside. “Grey needs to see you.”

“He’s in the room now,” you whisper.

“Timothy Bradford?!” Angela yells.

“What?” Nyla asks, looking back and forth between you quickly.

“Tim and I started dating while I was in the academy, and we got engaged about a month ago,” you state. “And Grey knows because we had to tell him.”

“Wait, so you pulled over your fiancé last night?” Angela smiles at you before looking at Tim. “What did you do?”

“I ran a stop sign. Nothing you haven’t done. Don’t look at me like that Angela.”

“You’re dating a boot, I get to look at you however I want to.”

“So, Harper, is he good enough for me?”

Nyla purses her lips in thought. “Depends. Let me see the ring?”

You laugh, and Tim smiles before exiting the room, glad he can talk about you freely now.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Nyla wants to talk to you,” you tell Tim when you pass him coming out of the locker room. “Good luck.”

“Can’t be as bad as what Grey told me,” Tim replies, shrugging.

“What did Grey tell you?”

“Uh- well- I think Nyla needed to see me, so I’ll meet you at the truck in a few minutes,” Tim rambles, avoiding your question.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m glad we told people. Even if we were partially forced to,” you say, leaning your head against Tim’s shoulder.

“You want to show me off? I mean, I understand, but I thought-“ Tim groans when you hit his shoulder.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you. Even though you’re a terrible fiancée.”

“Imagine what a terrible wife I’ll be.”

Tim tugs you closer as he responds, “I do. All the time. Especially when you pulled me over.”

[lancermylove]

Friday the 13th (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Demons x gn!Reader

Warning: None

A/N: Hope no one is having bad luck today!

———————————————

Lucifer

Raises an eyebrow, unimpressed by the superstition.

"Humans have such odd beliefs. Why is the 13th considered so ominous?"

Lucifer points out that, as demons, they have encountered far worse things than bad luck on a specific date.

However, he still makes sure that the brothers don't cause any chaos that day to avoid trouble.

But he won't push you away if you want to cling onto him the entire day out of fear or just an excuse to cling to him. Though, he will pretend to be annoyed.

Mammon

He gets superstitious immediately and acts nervous the whole day.

"Oi! Don't jinx me like that! I’ve got bad luck without needin’ no special day for it!"

As an extra precaution, he avoids risky bets or get-rich-quick schemes on Friday the 13th. Not that he has much luck with those, to begin with.

He clings to you all day, hoping you will be his good luck charm.

Leviathan

Freaks out internally. "It’s like a real-life horror scenario!"

He thinks it’s a good idea to spend the day playing survival games because what better day to play them, right? Wrong. He gets freaked out even more than usual and ends up watching fluff-filled anime.

He refuses to leave his room unless you coax him out, worried something terrible might happen outside.

"If I hide here all day, nothing bad will happen, right? Right!?”

Satan

He finds it fascinating, especially the historical origins of the superstition.

Yes, he immediately goes to the library to look up the history behind Friday the 13th, quoting facts and dissecting the human psychology behind it.

"Ah, interesting. A combination of religious beliefs and numerology."

He doesn’t believe in it but might playfully tease you by saying, "Better watch out today and give you a long list of things to avoid, like walking on a crack in the floor or walking under a mirror. Oh, and remember not to spill salt or nap in front of a mirror.”

Asmo

Asmo thinks it’s cute that humans have such superstitions. But he personally has nothing to fear because he is too beautiful to experience unlucky moments.

"Friday the 13th? Please, darling, I’m always lucky!"

Instead, he uses the day as an excuse to pamper himself, saying it’s important to take care of yourself on a potentially unlucky day.

But if anything slightly bad happens, he’ll dramatically say, "It’s the curse of Friday the 13th!"

Though, he mostly says it to freak out some of the brothers (and you).

Beel

He didn’t care much about it but gets a little concerned when you bring it up.

"Does that mean bad things will happen today? Like the fridge being empty?"

If you even hint a yes as a joke, he will stock up on snacks just in case something bad happens. No "bad luck" is going to get in the way of him and his meals.

Other than that, he shrugs it off—demons deal with worse things every day. But if you are scared or worried, he doesn’t mind cuddling with you and eating snacks while watching movies the entire day.

Belphie

The Avatar of South laughs when you tell Jim about Friday the 13th. "Humans are so funny with their odd fears."

He sleeps through most of the day as usual, not concerned about bad luck.

"Wake me up if anything interesting happens on this unlucky day.” By that, he means he wants to see his brothers freaking out or having a dramatic moment because they think the day is affecting them somehow.

Diavolo

Absolutely fascinated by the concept. "A day of bad luck? How intriguing!"

He wants to learn all about it and might even ask if Devildom should create its own Friday the 13th holiday for fun.

Actually, the prince wants to go to the human realm to see the effects of the day firsthand, but he doesn’t dare to suggest it after seeing Barbatos glaring at him with a ‘don’t even think about it’ look.

Regardless, he is amused by the superstition and jokes around with everyone to avoid stepping on cracks or walking under ladders.

Barbatos

The butler finds it mildly interesting but completely dismisses it as a superstition.

"It is simply another day, my Lord. There is no reason to be concerned. The same applies to you, (y/n).”

You might catch him quietly ensuring everything runs smoothly that day, not because he believes in bad luck, but just to make sure nothing disrupts Diavolo's curiosity. And no, he will not allow the prince to escape his duties to venture into the human world.

If you believe in bad luck, Barbatos will give you a lucky charm. In reality, it’s nothing more than a random object - he just wants you to feel safe the entire day.

Mephistopheles

He scoffs at the idea and is condescending about it. "Humans and their ridiculous fears. What a trivial concept."

And if you show any concerns about the day, he will tease you for being superstitious and roll his eyes at you.

However, he might avoid doing anything important that day, secretly thinking it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious. Not that he will ever admit it.

"I’m not worried about Friday the 13th… but if you are, I suppose I can keep you company."

That’s his way of saying he will protect you if needed, but why put in a nice way when he can be himself?

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3][4] ➣ Main Masterlist

[fallinforerling]

mimi i can’t stop thinking about when y/n comes and visit sthe bellinghams and y/n and jobe hug for too long n jude is just so very… pouty the whole night lmfaooooo then when he drops you off at home he’s so clingy and whiny :c

- bora <3

ps. this used to be erensfavgirly just so you know 😭 you can tag me as roses-arerosies for all ur new fics <3

but you love me more, right? - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist 

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Jude was ecstatic once he found out you were able to come with him to England. Visiting his family already had him in a fantastic mood, but now that he knew you were accompanying him, he was over the moon. He knew how well you got along with his family, so once he let everyone know on the group chat, he confirmed all the affection his family had for you with every new text popped up on the screen. 

✉️ Mum ❤: Yay! That’s such great news! 

✉️ Mum ❤: Tell her I’m making her favorite 

✉️ Hey! What about my favorite?

✉️ Jobe: Oh, please. She’s the apple of mum’s eyes, don’t act like you didn’t knew

✉️ Dad: Tell her that I bought new tea flavors for us to try

✉️ I’m starting to think I’m not the main attraction of this visit, am I?

✉️ Jobe: No way! Seriously?

✉️ Jobe: She’s also my favorite

✉️ Dad: Jobe, donʼt be hurtful towards your brother 

✉️ Mum ❤: Canʼt wait to see you both 💕

✉️ Jobe: Tell her I miss her 

He couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s text. It was obvious he had a crush on you; Jude found it funny since it was a little bit cliché, the little brother having a crush on the older brother’s stunning girlfriend. Oldest joke in the books. It wasn’t a big deal anyways. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

He didn’t consider himself a jealous person. At least, not the type of person that would go as far as considering his own brother a menace to his relationship. It was stupid to even consider it anything more than something to joke about. There wasn't a real chance of something actually happening, not only because he was his brother but also because he was younger than both of you. You considered him a little brother, for the love of God.

Nonetheless, it was hard to ignore how long the hug between you two lasted. His brother seemed to be in heaven while holding you tightly, his head basically on your neck, refusing to let you go after a couple of minutes. It was almost funny to see if it weren’t for the unnerving feeling he was getting from it. He didn’t want to sound crazy, but... Was he smelling your hair?

“It’s so great to finally see you!” You said once Jobe let you go. He looked down at you with the biggest of smiles. “And you got so tall! How did this happen?” You pinched his cheeks, treating him as you always did, with care. 

However, Jude’s brain started to overthink, and he was feeling nauseous. Why was he jealous of his own brother? He was being ridiculous, and he knew that. But some things were hard to avoid, and his jealousy was one of them. He tried to fight it as you all moved to the living room, where his mom had prepared a big tray of snacks. 

“So, did you had a good flight?” His dad asked once you were all sitting on different points of the large sofa. You nodded with a smile, receiving a tiny bowl full of your favorite snacks from Jobe, who only had eyes for you. 

“Thank you, honey!” You said to Jobe, who nodded with a slight blush on his cheeks before getting a bowl of his own. “It wasn’t as terrible as I thought. I actually really liked the food they gave us; it was a tasty chicken sandwich. Right, babe?” Your voice woke him up from his daydreaming, making him sigh with guilt for the direction that his thoughts were taking. “Are you tired?” You asked once he didn’t answer right away, rubbing his leg. 

“No, no. I was just distracted for a little bit. But yes, it was a surprisingly good sandwich. She had to talk me into eating it at first, though.” 

You smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but hold you closer to his frame, suddenly hungry for your touch. He didn’t let his mind slip to any other ridiculous thought about jealousy and his brother’s stupid crush on you. He gave his full attention to one of his dad’s stories, making sure to always have you close to him while listening. He knew you were giving him weird looks because this wasn’t his usual behavior around his family, but he didn’t care, he needed to have you next to him for a moment. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Okay, forget about leaving his jealousy thoughts behind. 

Jobe was stepping over an imaginary line that he didn’t know he had marked down since you all entered the kitchen. He was all over your space, but the worst thing was that you didn’t seem to mind. He hugged you by the shoulders, talking about God knows what while giving you the smile he knew very well since he was the one who taught him the smile trick. Was he openly flirting with you, or was he seeing things? Why would he do that in front of him? Why would he do that in general?

When he decided that enough was enough, and that he was going to do something about the situation, Jobe left your side. He saw how you nodded with a tiny smile at whatever he said, still sipping the cup of blueberry tea his dad gave you not too long ago. He saw it as the perfect opportunity to take you away from his brother’s hands. 

“Hello, pretty.” He said once he was near enough to whisper in your ear. You giggled, as every time he startled you, but you immediately turned around to hug him. “I missed you.” Jude returned the hug, closing his eyes once he felt your warmth around him. 

He didn’t know why, but he was feeling the need to be as close as possible to you. Why was he feeling so clingy all of the sudden? 

“Are you okay, babe? You were acting a bit weird earlier.” You said against his neck while rubbing his back distractedly. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He wanted to stop there and just enjoy the hug, but his brain had other plans. “Seems like Jobe missed you a lot.” 

“Right?” You were apparently naive about what he meant by it, since you just smiled. “He’s such a sweetheart, I love him a lot.” 

Okay? Ouch, no need to rub it on his face. 

“But you love me more, right?” He bit his lip, surprised by his own stupidity. Why would he ask something like that? What was wrong with him?

“Are you guys ready for dinner?” His mom interrupted whatever dumb thing he was about to say after what just came out of his mouth. 

“Just a minute, Denise.” You didn’t let him go, hugging his waist a little bit tighter while smiling apologetically at her. He saw the expression on your face, and he knew you noticed what was wrong. 

“That’s alright, I’ll hold your plates for a minute, come when you’re ready.” His mother said, finally leaving you alone. It appears like you weren’t the only one who noticed something strange going on. 

“Baby, are you jealous of Jobe?” You asked it in a serious manner, but your eyes were filled with such amusement that he felt like a little kid that just said something very stupid but very funny as well. 

“No…” You knew him very well, so there was no point in lying, but he did it anyway because admitting something so ridiculous was very embarrassing. 

“You’re so adorable.” You laughed after a moment, taking his face in your hands. “Don’t be silly; why would you be jealous of him? He’s like a little brother to me.” 

“I dunno.” He simply answered, knowing he was being irrational. “He has a crush on you…” 

“He’s your brother, Jude.” You giggled again, kissing his lips shortly. “That’s why you’ve been hugging me all night long?”

“Mmmh.” He felt mortified, so he went for the safest option and hugged you again, trying to avoid your face. You were having too much fun with this new information. “Don’t tell anyone.” 

“Of course I won’t.” You whispered back, silently laughing at his antics. He could actually feel how hard you were trying to hold your laugh. “I really love you a lot, silly jealousy included and everything.” 

“But more than you love Jobe, right?” He asked with hope, still refusing to retrieve his head from your neck. 

“Yes, Jude. More than Jobe.” You laughed loudly, not being able to keep it down anymore. 

“What’s up with me?” Jobe said, entering the kitchen, clueless about the subject of your chat. 

“Nothing!” He quickly said, not letting you give away anything that happened seconds ago. If it was bad that you already knew about the jealousy thing, it would be hell if his brother found out. “Dinner’s ready.” 

“Okay? Well, let’s go eat it then? Stop asphyxiating her with your love, she’s got enough of that already.” He knew Jobe was just messing with him, but he had to bite his tongue and resist the urge to say something along the lines of “Well, she’s my girlfriend, not yours!” but that would be too childish, even for him. 

So he just stayed silent and followed his brother into the living room, still giving him annoyed looks that were received with pure confusion. You just rolled your eyes and whispered to him to keep it down. 

Needless to say, even though he acted normally, refusing to let his childish side win, he still felt like he needed to create some space between you and Jobe. He insisted on sitting between both of you, keeping a hand on your tight at all moments, which resulted on you casually laughing or giving him loving looks that just made sense to him, the rest of the family weirdly looking at each other. He made up an excuse after an hour or so, saying you two were so tired from the flight and you needed to head to the hotel, but in reality, he just wanted to cuddle with you and have you all to himself for the rest of the night. You just let him be, still messing around while giving him head scratches to help him fall asleep. 

He guessed that jealousy just turned him into a clingy mess, but you seemed very okay with it, so what was the matter? 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *  JUDE'S TAGLIST

@mentalbaddie | @taintedstranger | @mrs-dasilvasantoss | @mbapbaesluvr | @roses-arerosies | @cinderellawithashoe | @yoitsmo07 | @seajjin | @kakuchosbff | @peterparkerbae | @alwaysclassyeagle | @itsjuspenny-blog | @lbsmainblog | @youngjayla | @freetimemachinequeen | @chaeryeongstuff | @lazyreadergirl | @trentismine | @ironmaiden1313 | @wavessmile | @jul1ettt | @daydream-er | @citrusjunosart | @pierre-gasssllyy | @avianawrites | @topguncultleader | @blahhhhhbleeplop | @ricsaigasalec

[ghuleh-recs]

c*nty Olympic figure skater Terzo and his starry-eyed hockey goon bf Omega from @ramblingoak’s iconic new speed skater!Copia AU. Run—don’t walk—to read it here: Copia on ICE!

Excerpt and costume inspo under the cut. (Yes. Yes, it is Johnny Weir.)

“Do you think he’s into fisting?”

“Jesus Christ Terzo!” You slid to a stop in front of where your friend and roommate was lounging against the rink wall staring at his phone. “What the hell?”

“I’m just asking!”

“But why are you asking me when you should be asking him?”

“I will but you know, one needs to prepare themselves for every possibility.” He glanced up from his phone with a smirk on his face. “Like fisting.”

“How about you keep your possibilities to yourself.” You skated to his side, placing your elbows on the low wall while you gave him a stern look. “And stop saying fisting.”

“Fine, fine.” His phone screen lit up and Terzo grinned at whatever was on there before he quickly typed out a response. When he was done he turned and gave you a quick grin. “Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person?”

“Yes, but you only tell me that when you have bad news or you want something.” Terzo’s grin wavered a bit but his phone lit up again and he giggled at whatever he saw on it. “Just spit it out Terzo.”

“Would you mind terribly if I left early?”

“How early? We still have the rink for a few hours.”

He winced, glancing at his phone again before sheepishly meeting your eyes.

“Now?”

“Now? Terzo, you need to practice!”

“SÍ, grazie coach, I know.” He pushed off the wall and skated around you to the opening. “I’ve been practicing for weeks. Months.” You watched as he grabbed his blade covers and went to sit on the bench where he’d tossed all his gear. “Years!”

“That’s the point Terzo! We do all this practicing for a reason, to get to where we are today.” You grabbed your own covers and followed him out of the rink. “You do remember we’re at the Winter Olympics, right?”

“We’re at the Olympics?!” Terzo gave an exaggerated gasp and you rolled your eyes. “Amica mia, I know this. How can I forget when you’re covered in feathers.”

Glancing down at your costume you let out a sigh. Swan Lake hadn’t been your first choice of song for your short program, mostly because you knew your coach would lean into the swan aspect way too much. White feathers decorated the fabric from your chest down to the short skirt. When you looked at the ground you could see a few feathers had fallen off and were scattered over the floor. With a huff you crossed your arms and looked back to glare at Terzo.

“At least I’m covered in something. Your costume is 80% lace. Does that even meet the regulations?”

“Omega liked it.”

“Oh well if Omega likes it then that’s all that matters.” You both glared at each other for a few beats before you sighed and trudged over to sit by him on the bench. “Is he a snowboarder?”

“Hockey.”

“Well Secondo will be pleased at least.”

“Eh, he plays for Sweden.” At that you winced, Terzo’s older brother was the head coach for team Italy and probably wouldn’t be thrilled Terzo was sleeping with someone from a rival team. “You should see him, cara mia. Wide shoulders, thick arms and an ass to die for.”

“That sounds like most hockey players.”

“No no, he’s not just a hockey player. He’s the captain.”

“The captain? Then why the fuck are you still here? Go get him!”

Terzo laughed, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on your forehead.

“I knew you’d understand.”

Read the rest here!

✨ He really did that ✨

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Cute Movie night with komaeda,,,,? :3

ミ☆ This probably isnt 100% what you wanted but the idea came to me in a rush and i couldn't stop writing. I could be convinced to do a second part later lol maybe.

ミ☆ It's also just a little one, i hope that's okay! Word count: 1088 Contains: the cringest reader in the world, violence and blood ment (they're watching a horror movie) ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

You probably should have been more clear with your intentions, you realize, as you sit uncomfortably in your theater seat. Clear is not a word that you would use to describe your usual methods, more circuitous, confusing and awkward. It has not worked in your favor. 

The movie is alright, you haven't really been watching all that much of it. Every few minutes your eyes dart to the side to peer at Komaeda where he sits in the seat beside you, desperately trying to gauge if he is having a good time or not. You should have told him it was a date, you really should have just told him. 

Falling back on usual anxious and unhelpful habits, you had tried to seem cool, to seem aloof, like you really didn't care whether he said yes or no. You’d made up some lie about having a spare ticket, and not having anyone else to go with you, laughing a lot more than you really should have and (in retrospect, the most embarrassing part of the whole thing) trying to lean against the wall in a way that looked effortless, and devil may care. Komaeda had thought you were slumped over in exhaustion, so it hadn't worked one bit. 

There's a loud noise from the movie and you jump in your seat. You don’t actually like slasher movies, but you thought it might be a good excuse to hold Komaeda’s hand or something. He looks over at you with a polite expression (no emotion really, just polite) to check if you are okay. You give him two thumbs up without thinking and immediately want to die. 

He has his hands tucked politely in his lap, not even doing you the service of using your shared armrest so you can do the classic slow pinkie intertwine move that you usually rely on in these situations. Your hands are clasped in your own lap, much less politely, aggressively, more like, and god are they sweaty. 

Komaeda thinks you only invited him because he was your last option, and it’s all your fault. You should have just told him you like him, that you really like him. It’s stupid, how much you worried about putting on airs when proposing this little excursion, Komaeda doesn’t care about that sort of thing, that’s why you like him so much! 

Someone on screen gets cut in half with a chainsaw and blood sprays everywhere, you avert your eyes, and notice that Komaeda looks very pretty in the blood red lighting. Weird thought to have, so weird. You avert your eyes in the other direction instead. Luckily the cinema is mostly empty, it’s mid-afternoon on a weekday so you don’t need to worry about accidentally making eye contact with a stranger. There are some very yucky sounds coming from the movie now, so you just keep not looking. 

“Are you alright?”

You turn to face Komaeda again, shielding your eyes from the screen with a hand. His expression is not just polite now, it’s concerned.

“Uh, yeah. I’m okay.”

He doesn’t believe you, you can tell, “We can go if you aren’t enjoying yourself.”

“No-No it’s okay, I am having a stellar time.” You say, your voice is squeaker than you’d intended, and oh god you realize that probably sounded sarcastic, “I mean it, i’m serious, being here with you right now is so cool and good-”

You overhear what sounds like a person being torn asunder and feel instantly sick to your stomach. Komaeda’s eyes dart up to the screen for a moment, and his eyebrows jump up in shock, “Don’t look up, okay?”

“H-Huh?” You ask, terrible instinct making you instantly start to look in the direction he just told you not to.

Komaeda grabs your face in both his hands, they’re cold and a little sweaty. It has the desired effect, you are shocked into absolute stillness, whatever is happening in the movie is the last thing on your mind right now. 

He laughs a little, nervously, like he’s worried about offending you, “I know it’s out of line for me to ask this, aha, but ah…why did you buy tickets for a movie that you can’t even watch?”

It takes you second to even realize that he’s asked you a question, his face is awash in red light, his eyes wide and beautiful. You can see his pale eyelashes, and a few sparse freckles on the bridge of his nose, so faint that you’ve never noticed them before, you realize you’ve been staring too long, “Oh uh, sorry I- um, I guess I wanted you to think I was like…” the next word comes out so weakly that you once again wish to die on the spot, “hardcore?”

Komaeda laughs again, warmly this time, “Ah, I don’t know why you even care what I think of you, but i certainly wouldn't think any less of you for not being hardcore” 

 “Should we go, then?” You say quietly, worrying your lower lip for a moment before muttering, “We could watch a better movie at my place?”

“A-Ah…” Komaeda starts, it’s pretty dark in the theater now that the slaughter has stopped for a moment, but you swear there's color to his cheeks, “Well, I’m sure you don’t need me for that, I know that I’m only here because you accidentally bought a second ticket and everyone else was busy.”

“Komaeda-kun, I’m asking you on a date.” You say quickly before you have a chance to change your mind, “This was supposed to be a date, but I was too scared to ask you properly, so I lied about the ticket thing, I bought two on purpose.”

“Oh.” He replies, slowly removing his hands from your cheeks and chewing thoughtfully on his thumbnail. 

“Yeah, oh.” You say, staring down at your hands.

Komaeda laughs breathlessly, “That changes things, then, doesn’t it?” He hums to himself for a moment and then says, “Well, if you’re certain you’d like to spend time with me…I’d be glad to.”

You look up at him, a wide grin tugging at your mouth. Unfortunately though, the movie is showing a scene where one of the main characters gets all his intestines pulled out. Komaeda is quick, though, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and tugging your face into his chest before you can get a proper look. He laughs, “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Date number two is going to be much better, you can already tell.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

SUPER ROUGH FINAL CHAPTER SNIPPET I SWEAR

disclaimer: this is not 50% done and there's still a lot of important details/actions missing but I was too hyped to not share- and there's a good chance the final product will look completely different

@firstdove15 and @aquamiun I HAVE TO tag you for this I'm sorry- but I need to see your reactions- this chapter is lore HEAVY.

“See and now if I kill you, people are gonna think I’m the wicked one!”

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re wicked for a lot of reasons, Asha. But if we had to make a list, I don’t think trying to kill me would be in the top ten.”

“Yeah right. So let me get this straight. I’m that wicked, yet here we have you, doing a hundred and one herculean tasks just to spend a day with me in order to be my friend. Right?”

“Yep. Pretty much.”

“So what does that say about you, Cepheus?”

“That I’m oddly persistent and determined?”

“Or that you’re a complete lunatic with a terrible taste in friends, but to each their own, I guess.”

“Lunactic? Ouch, Asha,” he feigned hurt as he drawled. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

She felt her grip tighten around the helm.“Star boy, I’m in this situation because I lost a wager that I was super confident that I’d win. I’m doing the best I can, ok?”

“Actually, I believe the correct terminology for me would be star man.”

“Excuse me?”

“I believe the correct terminology for me is star man. I’ve been through  way too many rites of passages to be called a boy.”

She shook her head, trying to ignore him. “Rites of passages?”

“Yeah you know, certain coming of the age things you have to do per custom.”

“Really? And what does a star’s rites of passage look like?”

“Well, of course it varies per court, but there’s a few shared customs that they all have. They usually vary in difficulty.”

“How many have you done?”

“Honestly? More than I can remember. Any star you see that’s my age has at least completed a handful.”

“Did you have…any personal favorites?”

“The sea of monsters.”

“Sea of monsters?”

He nodded, “yep. It’s one of the hardest rites of passage, and one of the most dangerous ones as well but it’s very rewarding if you succeed.” He paused taking note of her and Valentino’s expression. “I suppose I should explain, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes please,” she muttered watching as some of the water from the river rose to form a droplet within his hands. 

“Like the name implies, it takes place at what we’d call a sea. But this ocean isn’t like yours,” he started as the water droplet darkened, turning pitch black.”Instead of being filled with water, it’s filled with what they call consternas, or constellation monsters that were imprisoned beneath the ocean’s torrents that eagerly try to rip apart any star that enters their territories.”

She shivered, watching as the darkened water began to move irregularly.

“So…how do you complete this rite of passage?”

“Oh it’s simple really. You see when a star undergoes this rite of passage, they enter the sea carrying a weapon with them. But this weapon isn’t for self-defense. Nope, it’s to bind the chosen consterna monster to your life force. But you have to be careful because once you enter that ocean, it’s going to do everything to make sure that you don’t make it out alive. Every drop eats away at your very being, as with every passing second the ocean tries to drag you down deeper and deeper.”

“So what happens if you fail? Do you drown?”

“Ha, drowning would be merciful. No. If you stay in there for too long, you end up turning into a Consterna yourself. A mindless monster, cursed to roam the sea until another star stronger than you comes along and binds you to it’s life force for all eternity.”

“That’s…awful…what’s the point of that?!”

“Well, it’s to lessen the number of raging Consternas for one, and two, if you do succeed not only do you get fantastic accolades, you also gain a cool weapon!”

A cool weapon, she mentally scoffed. What good was a cool weapon to a star who could barely defend himself?!

“You should see some of the children of the higher ups take it,” his laughter interrupted her thoughts. They tie a rope around them, to pull them back in case they go to deep.”

“And this is your favorite rites of passage?! Cepheus!!”

“What?” he frowned innocently. “You asked!”

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞 voicemails before spring ends

✰ pairings: felix x fem!reader

✰ genre: angst, romance, forbidden love, modern royalty au

✰ warnings: mentions of alcohol, insecurities, some cursing (only damn and that too once), felix belittles himself very much

✰ word count: 1.5k + words (got too carried away with this)

FELIX | chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | han | seun gmin | jeongin

one 𖨂

today is another day of me thinking i wish we weren’t impossible. a rather blunt way to start it is, i know. but i cannot help myself as i watch you from across the room, in the arms of a rather worthy man. and i cannot help but think what it is to have what he does. fame, money, personality and. . . looks. i cover up my freckles and drew new ones because they look rather unorganised. i have to set my hair every ten minutes, in hopes i don’t look like i’m at my worst. or maybe, to have your attention on me. how utterly pleasing must it be. the gentlemen– he is everything i’m not. he is everything i try to be. he is everything i ever wanted to be. and now, he’s also stealing the most precious thing i ever had. you. and i’m helpless. i can’t do anything but watch. as i’m only your royal advisor.

two 𖨂

you tell me you love me at midnight. you cup my cheeks and kiss me deeply at midnight. you again tell me that you love me and snuggle against me at midnight. and i love it. every bit of it. but i must ask, why midnight? why not in the daylight? or is it too embarrassing for you to be seen caught in such acts? once again i ask, what’s wrong with us? why are we impossible? that’s the only reason i won’t admit that i love you. because if i do, i’m afraid that it’ll come true. and it’s barbaric. because i can’t love you. you don’t need my love when you have thousands of suitors up in line with proposals. and it’s rather upsetting to say i don’t even stand a chance among these royals. i’m. . . the watcher. just watching you all the time. tell me, is it love if i think of you all the time? and even though i shouldn’t be, i can’t help it. not when you look utterly beautiful when you wake up. your unruly hair, bare face and your smile– the one that has kept me under your spell. and though, i should be sending you the proposal requests from all across the city, i keep them with me. in my chambers, locked up in some rusty box so you don’t get taken away from me. and it is selfish of me indeed. but if it means, i can avoid watching you fall for another man for some weeks, i suppose it’s a rather good idea. good for my heart too.

three 𖨂

why do you make it so hard for me to leave quietly? why did you have to take my leaving notice and tear it? why? i demand answers. why don’t you understand how hard it is for me? let go of me please. along with the thoughts that we would ever have a happily ever after. i have gotten rid of it as well. it’s impossible, sweetheart. and i’m sorry– for not trying harder and going away this easily. but i’ve seen your heart, and i know it longs for me just like mine does. and that’s all i ever need to know. that’s all. but if you still continue to stop me i’ll have to remind you of the harsh reality. yes, reality. what you’re thinking is just a dream. you and me, we’re on two different levels. so, please don’t make it harder for me than it already is. and i wish it didn’t have to be this soon or under such unforeseen circumstances, but i’ll say it right now. i love you. but i hate love. so much. i’m terribly miserable without you. and i want to spend every second of my life with you. and now, here i am. bitterly laughing at myself while thinking of my dreams. dreams, no wonder they sound so unrealistic. it took me a lot of courage to say all this, many bottles of fine wine and a broken heart. you’re the person i cannot love. and even though a mere thought of you has me smiling foolishly to myself, allowing myself to lower my walls and let you in and see my vulnerability, i still cannot love you. because i can never have you. never.

four 𖨂

darling stop hurting yourself over me. please. you deserve someone who can make you happy. someone who has money to spend on you and your future children, someone who has time to take you out and roam around the city and someone. . . who is truly as valuable as you are. as high as you are. an equal. that’s who you need. don’t cry for me. what we had was beautiful. yet tragic. and it’s something i won’t even forget or move on from. it hurts me knowing i can’t comfort you any longer, as i’m too far away now. so far that you can’t even reach it if you wanted to. stop searching for me. stop trying to come to me. stop, just stop. i’m sorry that i loved you. but i don’t regret it in a bad way. i regret that i couldn’t buy you expensive gifts that you received from other suitors, or even cherish you properly. but the intimacy we had was sincere. and i can still sense it. i did receive your calls and texts, but it’s inappropriate of us to be talking that way when your engagement has been announced, my love. whatever we had, should end right here before anyone else finds out. and if they do, i don’t know how i’ll control myself. you need to understand the urgency! they can hurt you, kill you and even use you if they ever find out! and i don’t want anyone looking at you, touching you in a way that can cause you harm. please, for my sake, stop. i’ll meet you one last time, just like you wanted and after that don’t call out for me anymore. i love you. and that’s why it’s my responsibility to also protect you. though not physically, but i can try to avoid any danger that’s walking towards you. text me, only if there’s an emergency. good night sweetheart, try to sleep okay? read the book from where we last left it if you can’t seem to fall asleep. okay? i miss you too, i hope you know that.

five 𖨂

our last time was a goodbye, and i hated that it felt like one so damn much. you looked so weak, are you sure you’re taking proper care of yourself? it was hard to pull away from that hug. because i knew that if i did, you would have to walk away from me. and even though you should, since it’s unsafe for you to be seen around me, it stung pretty badly. every word you said to me– i have it written down in my diary just so that i don’t forget. and when you said, “felix, i’m sorry to have been born in this life where you couldn’t publicly be mine, neither could i be yours. but i hope you know that our hearts are entangled deep with each other”, i felt that. it struck me so hard that i get tears everytime it replays in my head. you may call me a coward for not fighting, but nothing matters more than your safety and wellbeing. nothing at all. i would like to say something as well, and please remember it. i just want to say that our love it’s true, it’s pure and passionate and keeps growing no matter the time, place or the distance between us. in this life, i couldn’t have you. . . but in next life, i won’t let go of you. i’ll stop you, love you and fight for you. i would do all the things i couldn’t complete in this life. perhaps, in the next life this love story of ours will have a happily ever after and i’ll pray for it.

six 𖨂

remember when i told you that you remind me of springtime? i didn’t lie. the air smells different, the flowers begin to bud, after that dark and cold winter; it brings out smiles. and you, my love after the definition of spring, you’re the rebirth of all my laughs that i lost in my childhood. you gave me a new life, a new will to live. you’re the light to my life, like the fresh innocence of spring. forever until death brings us together, i’m yours and yours only. and i wish you a life full of joy. like the spring you are, let’s give us a rebirth and act like strangers who once were lovers as well. i hope to meet you again when spring starts. just like the beat of my heart, i longingly stare at you, so don’t worry, i’ll always have my eye on you darling. spring ends tomorrow, and we do too. i love you even through the harsh winters and scorching suns.

PERM TAGLIST: @taeriffic 🧣 @hello-2-u-from-me 🧣 @ilychee08 🧣 @sleepyleeji 🧣 @spacegirlstuff

[lillylvjy]

On again (off again)

a/n- hello! Been awhile huh?! Um- so a little disclaimer, this isn’t edited. So it’s pretty shit but it’s been sitting in my folder for a bit so. Also the ending is terrible so. Please go easy on me, I’m slowly getting out of my rut. Oh also it’s sirenbur!

Warnings- fluff, angst, blood, crying, kissing, wil is a lovesick fool, reader is stubborn so is Tom, also reader is way to calm with the events that occur but reader is kinda- I wrote them kinda in a self indulgent way so. Please tell me if I missed anything!

Enjoy!!

“Tommy, help.” Wilbur came rushing into the coffee shop, panting as he threw his bag on a random table and ran to the front counter where Tom was.

“What now, Wil? Need me to fix your gaping wound in a dark alleyway again?” Tommy sarcastically asked as he draped the dirty rag across his shoulder. He had bags under his eyes like always, not having been able to catch a moment of sleep with the shop and the group of middle aged villains who needed his help. Yet, his tired eyes turned into ones of fondness when he saw Wilbur’s blush and starstruck eyes. The way he was biting his lip to keep back the huge smile that would take over his face if he didn’t. “What happened?”

“So you know Y/n, right?”

“Yes I know Y/n, Wil. What’s going on?!” Tom asked once again, quickly getting impatient at the older boy in front of him.

“Ok so, earlier this morning they asked if I wanted to come to the park with them and try to help them get out of their drawing slump, obviously I said yes. And, without thinking, I asked them if they wanted to go on a date with me. Like, a date date. And they said yes, and we’re going tonight, but I have no clue what to do, I don’t even know what to wear! I’m like freaking out here and my hearts racing and I have no clue if it’s from the way they smiled once I asked or from running here but I-“

“Wil! Wilbur! Calm down, dude. Go sit down, I’ll bring you something to drink and we’ll talk. Ok?” Tom quickly said to Wil before he started having a panic attack from his thoughts. The man quickly nodded and walked over to the table with his bag on it.

Tom shook his head as a grin took over his face at the sight of his best friend. He always put up this strong outer core, not wanting an ounce of weakness to be seen. You never knew who was watching you at what point, he said. But, who knew that this one person could just, break him down, and create all that hard, tough shell into absolute goo. It amused Tom.

Tom quickly got a small cup and poured black coffee into it, knowing how Wilbur didn’t like it sweet. Walking over to the table, he gently set the cup on the table as Wilbur looked up at Tom and smiled as a thanks.

“So, you asked them out, they said yes and you’re going tonight. Where are you going?” Tom asked as he sat back against the chair.

“Um, we’re meeting at the park again and going to that family owned record shop outside of town. Said they’ve never been so, why not. And then we plan on getting something to eat. Probably chicken sandwiches from Fundy because it’s right next to it. And plus who doesn’t want a chicken sandwich made by Fundy?!” Wilbur asked as he took a sip of the bitter liquid.

“Vegans.” Tom said.

Wilbur looked up at the blonde, straight faced as he ran through ways to slap that grin off of his face. “Tom. You’re not helping! And plus they like his sandwiches. So I’m good on that part.” Wil nodded to himself as he went through the plan.

“Ok I’m sorry. Are you really worried on what to wear?” Tom asked with furrowed brows as he looked at the brunette. The sound of the bell going off when the door opened caught Toms attention. “In all honesty, just wear that. You look good, I promise. Now stop worrying about it, and start getting excited because the person you’ve been obsessed with for who knows how long said yes to a date. Hi! What can I get you guys?” Tom finished as he quickly grabbed the couple that was waiting at the counter.

Wil groaned as he downed the rest of the black coffee. Placing it on the counter for Tommy to clean and leaving with a quick “I’ll tell you how it goes” To Tom before he left.

Later that night before the shop closed, Wilbur rushed in with you clinging to his hand, placed a fiver down on the counter as Tom looked at him with wild eyes, and quickly saying a ‘Thank you!’ To the teen as he rushed out of the shop with you following close behind, both of you smiling and giggling like idiots.

Tommy guessed it went well.

——

“Tommy! Help!” Wil screamed as he quickly took his mask off and carried your limp body into the small coffee shop. Tom quickly came up to the front, starting to say something snarky but quickly stopping as he saw Wilbur lie you on the ground and press on your stomach.

“What the fuck happened?!” Tom said as he rushed around the counter and drop down to the floor to where you were placed. Tom quickly grabbed a towel that was just cleaned and moved Wil’s hands from your stomach. “Wil? You have to tell me what happened!”

Wil quickly shook his head as tears started to pour down his face, the realization of what was happening washing over him.

“I-I was too far away to do anything. They- fuck! This is all my fault!”

“Wil I need you to tell me what happened so I know how bad it is.” Tom said as calm as he could as he tried to soak up as much blood on the cloth as he could. And from the look of the cloth, it seemed bad.

“They were in the middle of all of it. It started when we were just out! We were getting flowers for our apartment and then Dream and all of them showed up and they-“ Wilbur’s voice trailed off as he swallowed down sobs and cries. “They fucking made me watch. Watch as they hurt them, listen to their cries and pleads- Tom they fucking stabbed them! And I had to watch.” Wil’s voice got rough with anger and hopelessness lacing every word. Wilbur wanted to kill every person in that moment but he knew he needed to get to you first. You mattered more to him than any little thing he used to complain about.

“Jesus- ok. I need you to lift their head in your lap, yeah? They’re still breathing but it’s barely there, so if they wake up during this, they need to see you first thing.” Tom said to Wil as he took off the cloth from your stomach, now drenched in blood. Wilbur nodded as he scooted up to your head and gently placed it in his lap as he ran his hands through your hair, wiping his tears when he could.

“C’mon love. You have to wake up. Please, for me.” Wil whispered to you as he lowered his forehead to rest against yours. Tears falling from his eyes as he spoke to you, half believing that you could hear him.

Tom tried his hardest to push through as he pressed his hands into your stomach again and again. Soon enough, his energy was down to the minimum and he didn’t want to risk anything. For him and Wil.

“Wil, it’s not work-“

“Keep going.”

“Wilbur-“

“Keep. Going.” Wil finally looked up to the blonde, eyes swollen and red from crying. Tom inhaled deeply and closed his eyes while he exhaled. Placing his hands back to the wound, he used all what he had left and maybe even more. Yes it would be hell to do anything for the next day or two but, it was worth it.

Soon before Tom was about to give up, Wil saw your hand move, just a little twitch but it was still something.

Grabbing it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it and rested his head against the cold palm.

“Please, love, just a little more. Please.” Wil whimpered out as he slowly saw Tom giving up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go forever and he didn’t want him to risk himself for it. But, you being gone was something he didn’t want to imagine. And now, it was becoming reality.

“I’m sorry.” Tom whispered out in a whimper as he placed his hand over his mouth to stop sobs and tears from coming out.

After those words left Tommy’s mouth, Wil broke. Tears and sobs coming out freely, yells of anger and heartbreak filling the dead coffee shop. Wil placed his head on your chest as your limp hand was placed in his hair, silencing his cries into your red stained shirt that was once a pretty blue color he loved.

Without realizing, the hand in his hair twitched and slowly tightened its grip in the bed of the curly mess. Wil felt the once limp chest slowly go up and down in a slow rhythm that was familiar to him. Raising his head slowly, he looked over at you with wide eyes, full of shock and disbelief, and saw you with tired eyes and a small smile.

“Why are you crying?! Did you see a stray cat again?” You weakly said as Wil quickly wrapped you up his arms and cradled you into his chest.

“Holy- what- how?” Wilbur asked frantically as he cupped your face and examined you, not fully believing this was real.

“I have no clue. All I know was I woke up to you sobbing like a baby. So thank Tommy for that. Oh yeah, thanks for saving my life bud! I’ll repay you.” Tom just nodded with a smile of relief on his face as he got up and took the bloody rag from the floor, leaving you and Wil alone.

“I thought you were- well you know,”

“Dead? Gone for good? Too bad, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Especially if I haven’t even gotten those flowers yet!” You told him as slowly sat up and held your stomach that was now sore.

“You almost died and you’re still on about these flowers?!” Wil asked with an amused grin.

Leaning up, you pecked his lips with a smile and leant back just enough for you noses to touch.

“Mhm. Now c’mon! We gotta go home and get cleaned up, I’ll leave a fiver this time.”

(Again I’m so sorry the ending sucks!)

Taglist: @mysticalsoot (um I can’t find who was on my taglist so if I forgot you or if you want to be added, my dms are open or send me an ask!)

[harrywavycurly]

I need to see Nancy meet one night stand Reader😂 i just wanna see how it goes.

Hiii babes!! We’ll ask and you shall receive 😂 I hope you enjoy these conversations! I also added Max and Robin into the mix as well just to get that outta the way!💖

-find all things One Night Stand Eddie here✨

-also reminder you’re not very nice(yet) in this series so like…there’s that😂🙈

*Eddie just wants you to meet some of his friends and per usual you’re not really in the mood*

“Hey I’m Nancy…it’s uhm great to finally meet you.” “Yeah? Why is it so great?” “Jesus can you be nice for like five minutes? Please?” “Fuck off Eddie and leave me alone…I don’t need a damn babysitter to meet your friends.” “Fine I’ll just…be over there…sorry in advance if she makes you cry.” “Uh…okay…” “It’s nice to meet you…so uhm you’re Will’s older sister?” “Uhm close I’m Mike’s older sister….” “Sorry they all kinda blend in…can I ask you a question?” “Sure sure yeah…go ahead.” “You get your car worked on a lot?” “What? My…car? No not really…oh that’s right I saw you at Eddie’s work the other day.” “Yeah I saw you too…have you two…hooked up or anything?” “Me and Eddie? God no…no no never…ever.” “Why’d you say it like…that?” “Sorry I didn’t mean to sound rude but uhm no Eddie and I are just friends…I uh did date Steve…for a bit.” “Snackless Steve? You dated him?….yeah I guess I can see why Eddie isn’t your type then.” “Snackless Steve?” “Long story…gotta save it for the next time we see each other or we won’t have anything to talk about.” “Right…..”

“It’s Robin right?” “Yes that’s me…you waiting for Eddie?” “Yes he told me to come to family video and wait with Robin until he gets here.” “What’s with the step by step instructions? He think you’re five or something?” “He does it because he knows it annoys me…” “ah…got it…so…what’s it like?” “What’s what like?” “Well having Eddie’s baby and having to deal with…all that.” “I haven’t had the baby yet so I don’t know what that’s going to be like…I’m assuming it’s going to suck ass…as far as dealing with Eddie I try to limit the time we spend together but it’s hard because he always wants to be around me…he’s fucking clingy.” “Yes! I knew it wasn’t just me! He’s like a damn spider monkey…doesn’t know personal space at all.” “Exactly…oh I think that’s him.” “Did he just-” “honk at me again asshole and I’m slashing your tires and calling Wayne.” “I like you.” “Thanks…you’re not terrible either.” “I’ll take that.”

“So he really knocked you up huh?” “He did…but he’s not…totally horrible.” “That’s good…but if he ever gets mean let me know and I’ll shove a potato in his exhaust pipe.” “I appreciate that…sorry what’s your name again?” “I’m Max…I live just over there…whats he doing anyway?” “He has convinced himself he can build a backseat in the van for a car seat…” “that’s…not going to work.” “Yeah he’s kinda an idiot…” “you sure know how to pick ‘em…” “it was dark and I was drunk okay?” “Son of a bitch…what the fucking hell…” “that’s my queue…gotta go tell him he’s a dumbass…nice talking to you Max.” “Yeah same…see you around.”

[reidsbookclub]

comfort fic for spencer reid x badass!reader watching one of those ASPCA-like commercials and spencer looks over and reader is BAWLING and he is so confused and yet wants to comfort r. maybe he promises to take her to the shelter the next day or something 👀? thank you <3

2 + 1 = 4?

AN: I’m sorry if this feels rushed. Also yes I know theoretically it’s virtually impossible for it to be the same cat but work with me here please I tried to make the timeline work since this is S1- S2 Spencer

Spencer was in awe of the sight before him here she was crying her eyes out, one would think something terrible and life threatening had happened but no, it was a commercial. Here she was, the person who Spencer had seen just a night earlier take down an unsub all by herself , crying her eyes out because the local shelter would be closing.

“Sunshine? Sunshine someone will adopt them it’s going to be ok” he said in a low whisper trying to calm her down

“But—but what if they don’t? What’s going to happen to them Spence? Will they be homeless—or worse?” She replied in between sobs.

“Ok what if instead of sleeping in tomorrow we wake up early and I’ll take you to the shelter. We can adopt one together—we we have been talking about expanding our little family after all” he said blushing to which looming up at him with excitement in her eyes she responded “now let’s go right now”

Spencer was amused at her child-like excitement “sunshine we can’t it’s 3:30 am” he said giggling.

•

She was the first to wake up, making sure to be ready by the time a half-asleep Spencer finished his coffee.

The ride to the shelter consisted of an excited Y/N screaming Taylor Swift and an wonderstruck Spencer taking in the view from the passenger side.

“I think we should get a puppy” she said, “a big fluffy one with a brown patch in his eye”

“That’s specific” Spencer muttered, and continued looking at our the widow, “ I was thinking more in the likes of a caramel colored bunny”

“But babe,” she replied, “bunny would be too much to take care of”

“And a puppy won’t?” He said chuckling.

They spent the whole 45 min drive talking about what animal they would adopt.

Once inside the shelter they passed a an African Grey parrot called Buckley, he used to belong to an elderly couple and would scream “spank me!” Every time someone passed. Spencer couldn’t help but be startled at the parrot shaking his head immediately.

As they approached the dog kennels Spencer could tell she was begins to feel discouraged not finding a pet that she felt connected to. It all changed when they stopped at the last kennel she saw a white and light grey fur Ragdoll cat. “Can we please see this one?” She asked the shelter volunteer.

They were both amazed at how the cat, whose name they learned was Dusty, walked right up to them and began asking for head and tummy scratches. “What’s her story?” Spencer looked up towards the volunteer. Who answer in a whisper, almost as if he didn’t want Dusty to hear and be reminded of it, “Dusty was abandoned two blocks away from here, she hadn’t eaten anything in a while it seemed like due to how skinny she was. But she never lost her friendly personality”

Spencer looked from the volunteer towards y/n and knew just by the look in her eyes that Dusty would be coming home with them. “Spence, babe I want her. Let’s take her home with us.”

“How soon can we take her?” Spencer asked the volunteer who scratched the back of his neck nervously, “well you see I don’t think you’ll want her..maybe how about…” but as he was looking for another cat to show them Spencer asked, “why not her”

“Well she got attached to another cat we have here at the shelter, a Chartreux, we wouldn’t want them separated but we also won’t pressure you to take both since the Chartreux, has been through a rough time. He is actually nameless at the moment which is sad because he’s a senior cat but his previous owner was brutal so much so he is blind in one eye.”

“Can we see him?” Spencer asked.

“Sure, he’s being checked by the shelter’s vet as we speak follow me”

The minute they saw the second cat from the window Spencer and Y/N knew that he would be going home with them and without looking at Y/N for confirmation he spoke loudly, “we’ll take them. Both of them.”

“Let me go tell the vet then”

As they were waiting Spencer couldn’t help but feel drawn to the Chartreux cat he hadn’t taken his eyes off

“You ok Spence? You seem spaced out babe.”

“He reminds me of Reginald”

“Who?”

A spaced out Spencer replied in a sad and nostalgic manner “He was my mom’s cat. She had him since he was a kitten, I was 8-9. I would call him Reggie, he was exactly like this cat but he wasn’t blind in one eye. I used to take care of him when my mom was first institutionalized. During my first year of college my roommate left the door open and Reginald left, he never came back.”

“Spence?” She asked, “was Reggie microchipped?”

“I don’t know”

“Excuse me?” Y/N said knocking on the window that overlooked the vets clinic station

“Yes?”

“Is either cat microchipped? We just don’t want any trouble if they are”

“Dusty isn’t but Im not sure about this one he’s been here since before I was working at this shelter, let me see” the vet replied.

“I’m sorry it looks like this cat is microchipped it belongs to a Diana Reid from Las V…”

“Las Vegas, Nevada address 42 Wallaby Way Apt 13B—she’s my mom. OMG Reggie is alive” Spencer interrupted. “I lost him my freshman year of college and he’s here in DC. How? Oh Reggie!”

The drive home consisted of Spencer telling Reginald everything he had lived through and for a split second she could see specks of child-like happiness in Spencer and with a job like theirs, that was the same as if she had won the lottery.

That night their bed felt smaller with two cats sound asleep by the end of the bed, using their feet as pillows but for the first time in the year they’d been together Spencer’s cold feet pressed on top of hers weren’t and issue.

•

Taglist

@samuel-de-champagne-problems | @fightingdragonswithwho | @writer-in-theory | @pretty-boys-book-club | @kodiakwhiskey | @the-chaotic-cow | @nygmaperry | @reidslibrarybook | @luredwithpretzels | @justreadingficsdontmindme | @nomajdetective | @lilibet261 | @dontjudgemeimawriter | @serenity-lattes | @reidselle | @lcvingprentjss | @alexxavicry | @cafeacademia | @spencer-reid-wonderland | @paperbackprettyboy | @esoltis280 | @milla984

[kl125]

I’m a bit tired of the criticism surrounding the Percy Jackson show. Not the fact that criticism exists, because I agree with a lot of what’s being said, but people acting like there’s an intellectual superiority linked to hating the show. This is long, so here’s a “keep reading” for you.

No one said it would be a perfect book to TV adaptation. Even Rick said they would change some stuff, because he was given a chance to go back and reevaluate the original story. Personally, I think Rick’s writing is better suited for books, and doesn’t translate well to a TV show format (referring specifically to his writing for the screenplays), and there’s some jarring pacing issues moving from scene to scene. Not to mention, of the whole series, The Lightning Thief is one of the weaker stories, simply because Rick wrote it early in his career, and he had the chance of slowly improving with each new release. And I agree that simply saying, “Well, Rick approves of this adaptation,” does not excuse it from having flaws.

That being said, I still very much enjoy the show. Walker, Leah, and Aryan are carrying the story fairly well. I like their dynamic, and it gives a new perspective on Percy being an unreliable narrator, seeing as PJO is written in first person, but the show is portrayed in third person. Also, for people saying, “$15 million per episode, but where did it go?” The salaries for the cast and crew, the props, cameras, costumes, makeup, royalties for using certain songs, and some decent CGI, among other things. It adds up more than you think.

Now, if you don’t like the show, that’s fine. If you want to voice your criticisms, that’s fine. But please don’t act like your opinion is the only one that matters, and that anyone who actually enjoys the show is dumb or blind to the problems. People can enjoy things just…because. For me, there are MANY things I like which have TONS of evident problems, but those problems aren’t enough for me to give it up.

Also, “show don’t tell” is a good philosophy to have when telling a story, but we need to remember that this first season has to do a LOT of heavy lifting exposition wise. It has to cover a number of Greek mythology stories and character backstories, and weave them into the plot, in a relatively short amount of time. Yes, we have the benefit of eight episodes, but even then, there’s not enough time to dive deep into ALL of the intricacies of mythology and backstories. I think the episodes could stand to be a bit longer, and I think some scenes need have more breathing room so that the audience has more time to process what’s happening. As for why Percy seems to know everything, it’s stated multiple times outright that Sally told him the Greek mythology stories. They are ingrained in his brain, and Percy is very smart and quick.

Finally, there are a NUMBER of shows that had a pretty disappointing first season, but went on to improve with each new season. We should treat these criticisms as suggestions for improvement, instead of completely writing off the show. It’s not perfect, and that’s to be expected, but it’s still so early. We need to give shows time to grow and improve.

Anyway, if you’ve read all this and still hate the show, that’s fine. No one is stopping you. I fully respect that opinion, and I’m not here to change that. I just think there are more constructive ways of handling things like this than going on TikTok and being like, “Hot take, but the Percy Jackson show is actually garbage.” It’s about open conversation and constructive criticism and the hope that things will improve with time.

P.S. The irony of me writing this whole post portraying myself as intellectually superior is not lost on me. Everybody is entitled to their own opinions, I just hope we can be more productive when sharing them. That’s all.

P.P.S. If you really don’t like the show, and you think it’s objectively terrible, then don’t watch it. No one is forcing you to keep up with it each week.

[heliads]

Tewkesbury x Gn reader, them being both love sick idiots

masterlist

Tewkesbury is meant to be paying attention, but he’s not. Again. Enola’s been trying to brief him on all the latest scatterbrained clues she’s somehow twisting together into one intricate braid of a plan, but it all just sounds like fragments of nothing to him. When Tewkesbury has no idea what’s going on, he zones out. It’s not his fault.

In his defense, there is a lot happening in his life at the moment. If his position in the House of Lords didn’t bring him enough trouble already, because Parliament is an active traincar hurtling towards a new wreck every week, Enola’s gotten them both wound up in yet another murder case. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if she’s causing these things just to give them a bit of entertainment. It seems likely at least half the time.

There’s something else on his mind, too, if Tewkesbury is in the habit of being honest. Someone, technically. There’s someone who’s come into his life, someone new, someone extraordinary, and the thoughts of where they were and what they were doing recently are far more pleasant thoughts than Enola’s discovery of two bodies with their throats slit.

Someone claps their hands right in front of his eyes and Tewkesbury flinches back, startled. He squints irritably at Enola, who glares right back at him. “What was that for?”

Enola’s scowl has been perfected over practice. “You’re not focusing. I’ve been talking about only the weather for the last three minutes and you never even noticed the abrupt change of subject.”

Tewkesbury frowns. “That would explain why I was suddenly thinking about storm clouds. It is supposed to rain later tonight, though. Excellent observation.”

Enola just huffs, vexed. “I had made several other excellent observations if you were in the habit of listening to me, which you’re not, obviously. So what’s up with you, then?”

He blinks at her in surprise. “What, sorry?”

Enola waves a hand at him in consternation. “You’re pretty clearly preoccupied with something else. What in the world could possibly be more important than another murder case? Has Parliament passed another bloody terrible law, then?”

Tewkesbury shakes his head. “No, not that. Well, yes, they’re always making awful compromises, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of.”

“Then what was it, then?” Enola asks. “Spit it out so we can get back to business. Otherwise you’re just going to go back to thinking about it again.”

“Wise thinking,” Tewkesbury admits. “Very well, then. I was thinking about someone I like.”

He can’t help but smile as he says it at the thought of this particular person. He waits for Enola to do something Enola-like such as swat him on the shoulder or complain to the heavens about why she was burdened with such an easily distracted partner in solving crime, but neither reaction occurs. Instead, she just shrugs and says she figured as much.

It’s funny, he can still remember a time in which Enola would vigorously tease him for so much as mentioning a conversation between himself and someone he was thinking of courting, but no more, it seems. She’s grown up. He has too. They’ve had no choice in the matter, not after what they’ve been through. Time comes for everyone, you either survive or find yourself buried alive in the past. Tewkesbury has been doing his best to continue outrunning the boy he had been, and it appears that Enola has been sprinting just as hard as him.

Regardless, he’s pleased by it. Tewkesbury recently bruised his shoulder and he doesn’t think he’d appreciate a swat aimed in its general direction any time soon. 

“So?” Enola prods. “Who’s the mysterious person? I want details. Do I have competition in the solving of crimes? Because if so, you’ll have to let them know that they have to find someone else. I’m not interested in you for a courtship, of course, but I’ve already gone to the trouble of telling you all my clues, I don’t want to have to train anyone else in the matter.”

Tewkesbury snorts. “You’ll have no worries on that front. No, I’m not solving mysteries with this person, and yes, I am courting them. You’re safe on both counts.”

Enola’s brow furrows. “If you’re not solving crimes, why are you possibly interested in them?”

He just barely manages to turn his laugh into a polite cough. “Not all of us are quite so tempted in stabbings and lacerations, Enola. She’s a perfectly lovely person, we get along splendidly. They listen to me talk about plants and I love walking about the town with them.”

She narrows her gaze at him. “You haven’t mentioned a single name thus far. Who is this mysterious interest of yours?”

This time he does snort in disbelief. “You’ve got to be out of your mind if you think I’m telling you any identifying information. You’d stalk them or something.”

“It would only be for your own good,” Enola frowns, “Shame, though. I was sort of thinking about setting you up with one of my friends. They’re tough as nails and very clever in the whole investigation business, I would have thought you’d like them. Perhaps they were too good for you, though, since you won’t take any of this as seriously as you should.”

Tewkesbury rolls his eyes. “I’m sure. Okay, you’ve wrung me of information. Go on with your clues, I’m paying attention this time.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, suspicious.

“Of course I’m sure,” he tells her. He’s not. Mere moments after Enola turns back to her tracings of plaques and hastily scribbled down house addresses, Tewkesbury is thinking fondly of the time they’d walked through the gardens east of this place. There had been the most beautiful medicinal herbs, and absolutely no murders. Truly a wonderful experience.

It would have been a better use of Tewkesbury’s time to have focused, though, because as Enola is reviewing her information, she gasps with a sudden realization and then they have to take off through the streets in search of a key eyewitness they had previously overlooked. That eyewitness turned out to have been behind it all, and then Tewkesbury blinked and found himself being held at gunpoint. How joyous.

The guy’s damn near crazy, leading to Tewkesbury to wonder again why on earth he keeps finding himself mixed up in all of this. He and Enola are both trying to reason with the guy, goading him into dropping his guard at least just a little bit so Enola can get the jump on him, but every time their attacker’s hand dips a millimeter, he raises it just as quickly.

There’s no getting out of this, or so it seems, at least. Every minute, the guy seems more and more inclined to shoot them both and get rid of any evidence that he’d been involved in all this. Out of the corner of his eye, Tewkesbury catches a flash of motion, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. The two of them had set off in quite a rush for the eyewitness’ location in the hopes of hearing useful clues before the police or other investigators could catch up to them, which unfortunately means that no one will be coming to save them.

Or, perhaps that might not be the case after all. The flicker of movement comes again, this time not from Tewkesbury’s side but in front of him. A silhouette emerges from the gloom behind their attacker. Tewkesbury does his best to keep his gaze firmly trained on the guy waving a gun at him, which isn’t too difficult to do, just to make sure the murderer doesn’t catch onto their rescuer before any saving of lives can occur.

The blink of an eye; the shine of dim lighting on wood, and then their would-be killer is out like a light, limbs sprawling on the ground. The gun doesn’t go off, thankfully, and Tewkesbury kicks it under a nearby table and out of harm's way as soon as he can.

While he’s handling the weapon, he hears Enola’s voice rise with delight. “And here I thought we were the only ones in this case! Y/N, you’re the best.”

“Just like always, huh?” Their rescuer says, and then Tewkesbury’s whipping around, unable to hide the thrilled grin on his face.

“Y/N?” He asks, confused but wonderfully happy.

They’re grinning at him too, even more so when Tewkesbury rushes forward to wrap his arms around them, spinning them off of the ground in one excited loop. It’s not too proper of him, of course, but there is no one to see them here but Enola, and he really, really, likes seeing Y/N, especially when they’re saving him from death by bullet.

Enola is still definitely here, though, and she’s staring between Tewkesbury and Y/N as if she’s lost her mind. “I’m sorry, when did the two of you ever know each other? Least of all well enough to do all of that?”

Tewkesbury laughs. “I believe I forgot to do introductions. Enola, this is Y/N, the person I was speaking of earlier.”

Enola’s jaw drops. “You’re courting Y/N L/N? No. No, they would have told me. Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N just grins. “You’re the master detective, I assumed I wouldn’t have to tell you.”

Something is dawning on Tewkesbury, and he looks between Y/N and Enola with mounting levels of shock. “Wait, Enola, when you said you were sad to hear I was courting someone because you wanted to set me up with your friend, did you mean Y/N?”

“Yes,” Enola confirms, “I didn’t realize you were actually seeing them, though.”

He nods. “Do you take back what you said about them being too good for me, then?”

“No,” Enola says cheerfully.

Y/N grins. “I’m just glad to hear I’m highly thought of.”

Enola harrumphs. “Tewkesbury’s also highly thought of, apparently. Y/N can’t stop talking to me about this fantastic boy they’ve been seeing, how he’s just wonderful and courteous and brilliant and whatnot. They wouldn’t tell me a name either.”

Tewkesbury looks at Y/N with a grin, who’s conspicuously not meeting his eyes. “You said all those nice things about me to Enola? Really?”

“No need to bring it up again,” they whisper, but he couldn’t care less.

“I think we should bring it up more often, actually,” he tells them, “again and again. I’ll tell you all the wonderful things I told Enola about you. It’ll be a deal.”

Y/N is smiling at him again, blinding and beautiful, and it’s more than enough to convince Tewkesbury to ignore Enola in the back talking about how she’d rather get shot by the murderer than listen to the two of them keep up this nonsense any longer.

The comment does serve to remind Tewkesbury of their purpose here, though. There’s no reason to stick around any longer, and Enola heads out quickly to alert the police of the murderer trying to kill them. That leaves Tewkesbury and Y/N to leave the building by themselves.

Tewkesbury sticks his head out the door with a grimace. “It’s raining,” he tells them.

Y/N frowns. “Drat. I’d worry about my clothes, but I smudged them already trying to grab something heavy to beat that guy with.”

“And you did a marvelous job with the beating,” Tewkesbury promises them. “Completely worth the cost of the clothes.”

He steps out into the rain and extends a hand to them. Y/N accepts it with a smile, allowing him to pull them into a spin before coming to him again. They’ve danced with each other before at various functions and galas, but this time is more fun, more free. 

The rain drums on the rooftops, providing them with all the melody they’ll ever need. Tewkesbury listens to the patter of their feet on the road, the laughter echoing between the two of them. He watches Y/N’s arms raise as they spin, how their hand fits perfectly in his every time. He looks, and he smiles, and he thinks that he would be absolutely content with this being forever. He never wants to leave this moment, and for now, at least, he never will. The rain beats on, and the two of them dance.

enola holmes tag list: @mayfieldss

[wellpresseddaisy]

The Things We'll Never Tell

For prompt 22, Power

Also for @sneverussape , because Draco is a godbrat who doesn't like to share.

“Cissa? Cissa, where are you?” Lucius raced through the family wing, leaving doors swinging on their hinges as he searched for his wife. 

“Draco wanted to show me how well he’s doing with his toy broom, Lucius. Why are you thumping about in that manner?” Narcissa stepped out of the day nursery, shutting the door carefully behind herself. “You’re frightening Draco with all that noise.”

“Life in Azkaban, Cissa. They were sentenced to life.” Their own narrow escape preyed on his mind.

Narcissa froze. “Life?” she asked faintly.

“I know you hoped…” he trailed off at her shaky laugh.

“She wasn’t my Bella any longer. Something changed in her, Lucius, something shattered. Perhaps it makes me a terrible person, but we’re free of them.” Her voice shook.

“Do you think they’re still bound to Draco?” He took her hand in his, both of them trembling.

“I don’t know that they ever were. They said the oath, but I don’t know if it ever took. Draco…well, we know Draco’s opinion on that.” Forcing herself to smile for her child, she opened the day nursery door again and pulled Lucius in behind her.

Draco zoomed about the floor on a toy broom. He stopped so suddenly when he saw them that he tumbled off. Lucius smothered a snicker when Draco smacked the floor and grumbled ‘Rude!’ at it.

“Yes darling, what a very rude floor it is.” Narcissa scooped him up and nuzzled his face. “What an inconvenience to Draco.”

“Invenience, Mama,” Draco parroted.

“Papa came home early just to ask our Draco a question!” Perhaps if she sounded like it was exciting?

“Ask Draco?”

“A very important question, little man.” Lucius reached for his son and Draco went to him happily.

How very different from his own toddlerhood, kept away from the adults with nannies and nursemaids until he left school.

“Now, does Draco know who his godparents are?” Lucius asked.

“Un’le Severus,” Draco answered decidedly.

“Can you feel a bond with him, darling, or anyone else?” Narcissa joined Lucius in cuddling their boy.

Draco frowned. They knew he vaguely understood magical bonds, as much as a small child could. He felt them and could name them, but beyond that…they’d have to wait until he was more verbal.

“Un’le Severus mine,” Draco said after a moment. “Not there.” He turned sad gray eyes up to his parents, patting his chest with one little hand.

“We can call Uncle Severus over, I’m sure, and make it so he is there,” Lucius offered.

“Mine,” Draco grizzled. “Want mine.”

A soft, silvery glow enveloped him. Lucius nearly dropped the child. Only Narcissa’s hold on both of them kept the toddler from tumbling to the floor.

“Cissa?” Lucius hissed.

“Hush!” she hissed back. “Wait.”

Lucius didn’t think waiting an appropriate plan of action when one’s toddler began to glow. Was this the moment when he regretted marrying this member of House Black, as his father said he would? But he trusted her, so he waited.

After a moment, Draco opened his eyes and smiled sunnily at his parents. “Un’le Severus mine!”

The glow faded slowly. Lucius and Narcissa stared at each other over Draco’s head.

“He’s your godfather now?” Narcissa asked, far more calmly than Lucius thought she ought to be. “Well done, darling boy.”

“Yes. Mine.” Draco wiggled. “Down, papa, please.”

Lucius set him down, saying “Such lovely manners, Draco” automatically.

“I think we can expect Hurricane Severus to come whirling through in a moment.” Narcissa spoke archly.

“Our son just…you saw…what…” Lucius trailed off and stared at his wife.

“It was his first accidental magic.” She sounded smug.

“Accidental? Narcissa, our son just bound his own godfather. That was no accident.” He tried to sound pleasant so Draco wouldn’t know his father was in a froth.

“Well, instinctual, then, if you’re going to be pedantic, dear.”

From far below, they heard a door slam (the front one, judging by the depth of the boom) and the sounds of a rapid and possibly panicked ascent of the stairs. Narcissa turned to the door.

“We can never, never disclose Draco’s first magic.”

Narcissa glanced at him. “Of course we’ll tell everyone he summoned a teddy or some such thing. A triviality. People like those. They find them cute.” She wrinkled her nose at the word.

The door slamming open to admit a harried-looking Severus interrupted Lucous’ reply.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Severus demanded.

“Bloody!” Draco chirped from his broomstick and zoomed gently around their legs.

“Nanny is going to be so cross with you, Severus.” Narcissa remarked mildly.

“What are you doing here?” Severus demanded again, yanking up his left sleeve. “Who did this?”

Lucius and Narcissa stared at the unblemished skin that once held a Dark Mark. Lucius grabbed for Narcissa’s hand.

“Well…” Lucius began, his voice choked.

“Mine.” Draco hovered on his broom ansD leaned into Severus’ legs. “My Un’le Severus.”

“Oh…oh dear.” Narcissa swallowed hard. “This may take some explaining.”

[ravenalla]

Please correct me if I’m wrong but from what I know Helluva Boss is written by only three people right? That being Viv, Brandon, and Adam. And while I’m sure ideas are bounced around here and there with the team, the way this season is going is begging for an actual writers room with more experienced people. Not saying those three don’t have any experience, but it’s clear they don’t know how to mesh the comedy and serious moments together well at this point. Part of writing is knowing when you need to omit stuff because it doesn’t fit the tone or story progession that you have established, even if you very badly want to include it. The writing for Helluva Boss in contrast feels they are forgoing any sense of coherence so they can stuff in whatever they like even if it goes against previously established plot points and try desperately to get to you pity these awful characters instead of letting them learn from their mistakes and grow as people naturally. Again, if this had stayed a dark comedy, that would have been passable, but now they are trying to tell a serialized dramatic story with arcs and emotion, and it’s just failing because that is not these writers expertise. This is complete speculation, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Viv’s aversion to any form of criticism is affecting it.

How many times must we see something terrible happen to Stolas because the show wants you to keep crying and pitying over without having these characters actually navigating it themselves? How many times will Blitz acknowledge he’s an awful person but not actively try to change his behavior in anyway and revert to the exact same character the next episode? How many times will Moxxie have to learn confidence because it’s the only arc they can think to do with him while Millie is a walking prop and Loona flip flops between liking her dad and physically abusing him for no reason? To the people who keep saying “just wait the shows not over yet!” we are basically halfway through season 2, there is no damn reason why Millie shouldn’t have had ANYTHING on her own yet or why Blitz and Stolas should be repeating the same “uwu he doesn’t love me” scene over and over again. If you give us what should be moments of character development but never actual show it through their actions or behaviors after the fact, it’s not character development at all, it’s cheap scenes you threw in cause you wanted the guise of something serious without actually taking the screentime to commit to it. And yes, the Stolas Blitzo stuff is probably going to pay off eventually, but it’s annoying for the audience to watch this will they won’t they game in almost every single episode just waiting for when the characters will finally change or have at least SOME type of acknowledgement of all they’ve been through instead of just keeping the status quo of another “Stolas looks sadly at his phone,” “Blitzo doesn’t really care about him until there’s one millisecond showing maybe he does 🥺.” Unless your a hardcore shipper, people won’t stick around with that forever.

The show wants to have world-building, quirky characters who are bad people, tons of villains, funny sex jokes, emotional investment, and a complicated romance, but there’s a reason lots of media fails when it tries to be everything at once. The Stolitz plot behind every episode now is sabotaging parts of the show that promised wacky demon assassin adventures, and the less serious moments like the Loona doctor B plot in turn ruins the atmosphere of the dramatic scenes associated with the Stolitz plot. They wanted to show a serious abusive arranged relationship through Stella, but they also wanted her to have be a campy bad guy so Stolas could have a reason to cheat on her so he wouldn’t look like the bad guy. This leaves us with confusing contradictions like Stella written as being legit mad about him cheating and wanting him dead while hinting at them having at least a positive public image as a family once through the background paintings, to suddenly her not having ever cared about him and seeking him out “cause she likes tormenting him” while she also now didn’t want him killed I guess because she’s opposed to the divorce because the Goetia want them together??, but then wanting him killed AGAIN after even though the Goetia probably always wanted that guy alive and her brother has to come in for no reason to make her look like an absolute dumbass.

Same with Loona. They try to give her development with Blitz, but they never do anything with it and by the next episode she’ll be beating the shit out of him again. “She’s a moody teenager!” She’s a woman in her twenties and I don’t care about her sometimes finding appreciation for her dad when she’ll just kick him in the nuts right after because physical abuse against a spouse is serious but with a daughter it’s funny I guess. And again, the entire argument fans have to justify this constant loop of creating and forgetting about character development is “just wait they probably have a plan.” Nah bro I’m pretty sure they just still wanted to throw edgy dark comedy in there and to do that they had to ignore any positive character changes it seemed like happened until a future episode specifically is written to continue that arc. Also the world building and class system in general is just bad when they actually choose to acknowledge it, which is rarely. It’s still so unclear whether hellhounds are seen as actually sentient autonomous people or pets, and it just makes scenes with Loona super weird sometimes. Same with imps, for an apparent underclass they sure seem to be able to go wherever they want and do whatever they want without too much trouble, and until the latest episode we’ve never seen any imp discrimination be a major factor besides comments from Stolas (which we are now choosing to ignore because Stolas can’t be a bigot that has to learn to be a better person, Stolas is perfect 🙃)

Yikes this got longer than I meant it to but overall Helluva Boss just could really benefit from some more inputs in the writing, not just ideas for story or jokes but someone who actually knows how to properly balance and structure this kind of stuff into an episode. As is it feels very disjointed, especially this season. I don’t think this show would ever be perfectly for me, just because I don’t find the humor at all funny and that’s kind of what makes the show, but at the very least it’d be nice if the actual plots and world these characters navigate was fun to watch, but most of the time it’s just not anymore, because you don’t get to actually see most characters interact or what their relationships are, and if you do they hardly ever change from what they were until suddenly it’s relevant for the plot. Blitz is uncomfortable around Stolas and is tired about being treated like a play thing, wait no now he’s turned on by Stolas’s flirting even though we’ve never seen that before and this is right after they literally had a huge fight, wait nevermind now Blitz doesn’t care again. Moxxie is always weak and sensitive when an episode is about him but suddenly super strong and has no problems killing in any other episode (“We’re not going up there just to massacre we need clients! -S1E3, exactly what he and Millie do to an entire audience of innocent bystanders in the Cherub episode and they don’t care). Stolas is super perverted and sees Blitz as an object, wait nevermind we’re just gonna change his entire fucking backstory so his behavior will look justified even though that man would literally have to be a the dumbest person in Hell to not see Blitz did not care and was actively repulsed by him all throughout season 1, yet continued to act that way to his supposed “first friend” because..he thought it was a sexy game or something they were playing? Even as a retcon for an excuse it’s still bad. Helluva Boss has no rules it sticks to, no jokes or character behaviors it refrains from even if it harms the quality, it’s just a badly written fanfic with pretty animation.

[ladylooch]

Woody taking his frustration out on you when he was scratched during playoffs but gives you the best aftercare

All I'm Seeing is Red- Miles Wood

A/N: Dang, I remember that game he played against the Rangers that got him sat. He played awful… just terrible. And then he got to sit and think about it for a long time 🙃 Thank you for your patience as I worked on getting this done. I acknowledge this took soooooo long! Wow! But it’s here now and I hope you love it!

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: This is a lil rougher than I usually do. If that’s not your taste, skip this one 😘 

“Fuck me!” Miles screams from the doorway.

“Yes, please?” You joke, leaning your head around the corner to where he is coming into the apartment. You were finishing up lunch for the two of you when you heard his heavy footsteps coming down the hall.

He looks up at you, cheek bones cutting the air with his angry scowl. His blue eyes are a raging sea. 

“Oh no.” You sigh, setting the plates down. “What’s up?” You walk right to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and waiting for him to speak.

“I’m scratched again. Fuck! I know I played like shit. Why can’t I have another chance?” You figured this was the problem. You run your hands along the deep groves of his back, attempting to soothe. He hates the comfort and pushes you away. You try not to take it personally. “I’m sick of being fucking bag skated. Goddamn quads are on fire every fucking day.” 

“Oh no….” You trail off, following him and running your hands up his solid back muscles again. “I want your quads on fire because you’re fucking me.” Miles softens beneath your touch this time. Then he gradually turns. The desire in his eyes has you laughing, eyes closing when you realize you have awakened the beast.

“You’re gonna play again babe.” You encourage him before this takes a final turn. “I know it’s hard right now. But we’ll get through this.” 

“I don’t wanna talk about that now.” His eyes are darkening, jaw tightening. Your lips part in desire as his fingers force your head back. His thumb plunges, without much warning, between those parted lips. You suck his appendage as he pushes down on your tongue. You collapse your cheeks around him and he groans, stepping closer again, tightening you to him. “How rough can I fuck you?” He asks as he pulls his shirt over his head

“As hard as you can. I trust you.” You say as you shed yours too. 

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“I know what to say.”

“Scream it. I might not hear it. All I’m seeing is red…” He trails off as he grips your sweatpants, shoving them down your legs. “Bend over.” He encourages you backwards. 

“Where?”

“Here.” He says as your butt gets to the back of the couch. You turn. His big hands grip your hips. You can hear him undoing his pants. Pleasure rolls in waves down your skin. You moan at the sound of his bottom clothes hitting the floor. A heavy breath drops your shoulders as he presses his palm down for you to go lower against the leather. You look back, barely able to see anything but his strong arm as he guides himself into your heat. 

“Shit.” You moan as he rips himself into you. The fullness steals the breath from your lungs. It arches your back and dances your hair down your spine for him to grip. He wraps your strands around his fist then bucks deeper into you like he’s a bronco. 

“Talk to me.” He snaps. “Tell me how good this is.”

“You fuck me so good.” You sprint out of the gate just like him. “I love your cock, baby.” You close your eyes, biting your lip at the sound of his moan behind you. The tension he walked in with is evaporating into pleasure with each pump into your tight heat. He releases a hip, slapping your ass hard, causing you to jolt. Greedy desire shoots out from the red mark he left, clutching your throat as your folds slicked more.

“Do you like when I fuck you rough?” He asks. "Like when I handle you like a doll?"

“Yes, baby.”

“Say my name.”

“Yes, Miles.” You moan loudly.

“That’s it. Let the world hear who make you feel this good.” He pulls your hair righter, wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you crudely arched. 

“Oh my god.” You choke as his pounding increases. He presses a hand into your stomach until your knees buckle from the intensity. He holds you up, using his powerful thighs to take you to heaven. “Holy fuck!” You wail, head crashing back into his beefy shoulder. “Yes…” You trail off, panting heavily as your core contracts around his cock. He moans, then pulls from you abruptly. You whimper, wildly reaching for him as you convulse around nothing.

“Gonna cum if I feel any more of that.” He says, stuffing two fingers in for you to grip instead. It helps bring you down to a better place. He pumps in and out, gathering your wetness and using it to rub your clit to prepare for the next round. “And I need at least three more from you before that happens.”

“Three?” You groan. You’re already feeling spent from how fast this one came on. But gone is his disappointment and failure from earlier. You’ll gladly keep playing your part to make him feel better.

You stand to your full heigh, allowing Miles to guide you around to the front of the couch. He pushes you down. He climbs between your spread legs, guiding his still wet fingers to your clit and rubbing in rushed circles. You whimper and he moans into your mouth. His lips suck your tongue into his. The rest of your noises are left there as he slips two fingers inside your entrance. You’re so wet; he can’t wait anymore. He roughly pulls back to bury himself to the hilt again. Your body quivers at his sudden entrance this time. Fuck, you think. Maybe you shouldn’t like how rough he’s being, but you do. And you’re already calculating how to get it again.

He begins to move and you find yourself breathless for the second time at how good he feels inside of you.  Your body stretches to accommodate him, turning your slight stitch into swells of pleasure. He’s so deep and hard, you feel him in your chest, squeezing the breath from your lungs in desperate moans.

“Wanna see you riding me to the next one.” He mumbles, tapping your ass.

He’s so chaotic, you can barely keep up with what you’re doing. Not that it matters. It’s clear he is using you for his own pleasure and distraction, but you’re benefiting more. He flips you both effortlessly, watching as you get situated over him, then drop down, stuffing his entire length into you in one swoop.

“Jesus.” He groans, running a hand over his face as the other guides your hip. You buck back on him in grinding motions, feeling each change in the angle of him into your stomach. Miles brings both hands to your hips, increasing the rhythm until he’s got you doing what he wants. Your breathing shorts out and a groan announces your next orgasm. Miles doesn’t let up. He keeps working you hard into him until you collapse down from your high. 

“You’re so pretty when you cum for me.” He praises while sitting up, leaning forward to kiss your throat. His large hand gathers the tendrils of your hair, gripping them to tilt your head back towards the ceiling. You begin to bounce on him. His tongue falls out of his mouth, stroking your nipple with each up and down movement of your body. You grip the back of his neck, denting crescent moons into his skin. He reaches up for your throat, putting a bit of pressure there. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” You moan out in pleasure. “No more though.”

“Just this.” He confirms, beginning to thrust up to meet your bounces. You can feel your third orgasm rushing towards you. It’s more intense than the others and you start shivering above him. Miles bites his lips together, watching your face for the sign of full release. You crash into harsh, hot waves of ecstasy that shudder your entire body from head to toe. You grit your teeth at the intensity, then release to moan loudly when Miles slaps your ass hard. 

“Miles!” You’re screaming now. Your body is utterly used and you whimper as he slows the tempo, knowing you need a small break. He hugs you to his chest, kissing along your cheek. His tongue licks at your jaw before he pulls away.

“You’re such a good girl for me today.” He stands up, moving you both from the couch and walking down the hall to the bedroom. “Need more space for what is next.” He says as he lays you on the comforter. He grips your hip, rolling you to your stomach and encouraging your hips up into the air. He presses down on your upper back, shoving your cheek into the soft fabric.

He knows this is your favorite.

“Your reward.” He murmurs, thrusting slowly into you. It’s tantalizingly slow, torturous, and at any moment, he’ll increase the tempo to a blinding speed that will have you trembling long after you both cum. But not yet. Right now, it’s gentle. The disgusting sound of your wetness fills the bedroom. “You hear how wet you are for me, beautiful girl? How soaked you’ve gotten from cumming so much.”

“Yeah.” You whine, eyebrows knitted together. You reach back, stretching your cheeks apart to help his thrusts.

“No.” He says, grabbing your hand and forcing it back to the bed. “I’ll take you how I want and no other way.” His words tickle your ear as he picks a faster tempo. His strength makes you submit. You can feel him pulse and thicken in you. You know he’s close. He loves to dominate you, taking you the way he wants, the way no one else gets you. He'll use his body to enclose you into him while he takes you as deep as you can handle.

His hand comes to the back of your neck, shoving you deeper into the mattress with his strong fingers.

“Oh god, right there.” You beg, focusing in on his staccato thrusts pushing you further up the bed. He stays consistent with that, moaning back to you at the way your inner walls hold his cock. “Yeah…” You whisper, then begin to pant heavy, practically wheezing as you turn your face into the mattress

“Holy fuck.” Miles yowls when your inner walls clench in preparation for your next orgasm. He doubles down hard, practically punching through your body with how hard he’s railing into you

Your hands wildly grip the comforter into your tight fists as you shutter stiffly, orgasming so hard you think you’re blacking out. Miles shouts as he fills you, jerky thrusts accompany his sexy groans as he finishes his own high.

One by one, Miles releases his fingers from the back of your neck. You lay motionless on the bed besides heavy breathing making your back rise and fall quickly. His fingers follow the knots of your spine, painstakingly slow. He pulls out of you then leans forward to press kisses along the long valley of your vertebrae.

“You okay, baby?” He asks when you continue not moving or speaking. He gives your pussy a gently stroke with his weeping tip, causing you to jolt. You still don’t answer. He rotates to see your face catching the soft grin stretching your lips apart. Your eyes open, locking with his as he leans down to kiss you. 

 “What does it say about me that I want to call the Devs and thank them for that?” He laughs, shaking his head.

“That my baby is a freak.” He brushes your hair off your cheek. “Wanna shower?” All you can do is nod.

Miles helps you off the bed. Your knees wobble, so you clutch his bicep for support. He can’t help but grin, wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the bathroom. You lean against the wall as he turns the water on. He waits, letting the glass enclosure fill with steam before he leads you in with laced fingers.

He puts you in the warm water, then cups your cheeks in his big palms. His kisses are soft. They muse your lips with each press, trying to suck the puffiness from them that he made. You sigh into his mouth, letting your fingers trail up his abdomen to his big shoulders. You step backwards, letting him into the spray with you. He assaults your lips again, both of you tasting each other and water as the beads break between your mouthes.

“What shampoo are we using today?” He murmurs, gesturing to the three options you have. You grab the daily shampoo off the shelf and hand it to him. “Tell me when?” He squeezes the bottle. You let him get a half dollar size onto his palm then stop him.

He lathers it up in his large hands, then reaches for your scalp. Your eyes close at his gentleness. You love the way he takes care of you after playing rough. The way he turns a simple act into an intimate, one of a kind moment. It’s just shampoo. It’s just a shower. And yet with Miles, it’s always so much more than that.

“Step back and keep those beautiful eyes closed.” He insists. You do as you’re told. Miles helps the water rinse the suds from your hair, smoothing down the strands and fluffing them along your scalp to get everything out. “Now open your eyes and watch me kiss you.” He whispers against your lips. You obliged again, lips stretching into a grin. This is what he wanted. His tongue comes into your mouth, swirling against yours until you giggle. “Did I tell you I love you when I got home?”

“No, you just demanded I bend over.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better about telling you I love you before I split you open.”

You snicker then tell him you love him too.

“I know how you could make it up to me…”

“Hmm?” He asks, grabbing the conditioner. You take it from his hands knowing he has no idea how to do this part. He uses 2 in 1 Head and Shoulders. The concept of conditioner is foreign to this manly man.

“Be nice to yourself. This is hard enough without the negative self-talk.” He wasn’t expecting that and his eyebrows knit together in denial. He reaches for the conditioner bottle from you and puts it back on the shelf. “Promise me.” His blue eyes return to yours. “Otherwise I have to beat you up.” He snorts in shock, then giggles.

“Baby.”

“I’ll do it, Woody. I’ll punch you in the face if you’re mean to yourself.” You hold a fist up, jokingly pressing your knuckles to his jaw. “Take out the rest of your teeth too.” He turns his face, forcing your fingers open so he can kiss your palm. Then he guides your hand down to hold his thick ass cheek, bringing you into his wet body. 

“Noted, boss.” You shake your head no.

“Miles, that’s not a promise.”

“I promise, baby.” He says, looking into your eyes. The sincerity you want is there now. You nod, then settle your cheek against his chest. 

Two games later, Miles plays and scores a goal. The Devils decidedly beat the Hurricanes 8-3. 

You’re not saying it’s because of you. But you’re also not saying it isn’t. 

Some things are too perfect to only be a coincidence.