#like... it's in good condition for it's age i have the box and everything...

[mggslover]

Hey I loveddddd the legging pervert!spencer fic, I’d love another one, maybe a part 2, or maybe just another with the same reader and perv!spencer. I love your fics!

SWEAT FOR ME ´-

In which Spencer has a different kind of workout in mind.

pairing perv!spence x leggings!reader genre smut (18+) cw reader is part of the bau + certified gym rat, gym semi public sex, male masturbation, fingering and oral (f receiving), p in v, fwb relationship wc 3,8k a/n we have an official reader! yippie! this is not a pt. 2 but another story in this universe. tysm for this request! feel free to send in more for them :)

Being a loyal gym member came with its set of advantages.

The tenth anniversary of your membership at Quantico’s “Fit4FBI” was coming up. When you joined the BAU, you had signed yourself up for the FBI’s designated training center. Though it was essential for your job to be in good condition, this gym also had the natural pattern of people massively joining during the first weeks of January and collectively giving up around the holidays. 

You were one of the few customers that visited regularly. To be specific, every day that you weren’t out on a case. The gym felt like a refuge to you, a place to blow off steam and clear your head from the gruesome cases that seemed to always be on your mind.

You were quick to befriend the owner, Mr. Isaac Dalton, a man in his mid-sixties (but don’t be fooled by his age; there is no trainer as encouraging and persistent as him). It all started with your suggestion to introduce a boxing lesson as a break from the usual Wednesday Pilates classes. It seemed like a small thing to you — boxing has been part of your life since childhood. But to him? It meant everything. 

From that day on, you were his favorite customer. Hell, his favorite person even. You gained access to the staff dressing rooms, even to the staff showers — which were a huge upgrade from the shared customer spaces that made even a high school gym look good. Yes, it was that bad. You now knew where they were cutting on the budget to be able to afford the tablets and private jet.

But the best benefit that came with being a star customer was getting the title of rightful owner to a spare set of shiny keys. 

Going to the gym after closing hours was the best thing that could happen to you. You were sure that the handover of the keys was a moment that not even your future wedding or the birth of your first child could ever beat. No more eyeing the Smith machine while walking the treadmill, waiting for the right opportunity to take a sprint and claim it before someone else did. No more cleaning of seats because the people before you were too lazy to wipe their sweat away. And thank God, no more annoying people complaining in your ear about how exhausting working out is. Well… besides Spencer. 

“I- I can’t,” he panted, letting the dumbbells fall to the ground beside him. In moments like this, you couldn’t help but regret offering him personal training when the gym was supposed to be closed.

You placed your hands on your hips, not hiding the look of judgment as he lay on the training bench, chest heaving like he had just climbed Mount Everest. On heels. 

“I truly wonder what you did to pass the physical exam.”

“I was in a remedial training program,” he put his hand on his pounding heart, taking a deep breath before continuing. “They needed new agents in the field, so they made me an exception.”

Well, that explains it. 

You shook away your thoughts, extending your hand to help him up. With a groan he stood, legs wobbly as he held onto your shoulders. Your skin felt soft and cool, in contrast to his clammy hands. 

Naturally, he started massaging your shoulders, causing a small groan to leave your lips. Spencer was about to slide his fingers under the band of your sports bra, but you stopped him. 

“We should do a leg exercise next. Maybe your legs are stronger than your arms.”

Now it was his turn to groan. “Have you seen me? I’m not even standing straight right now.”

“I know, Bambi,” you chuckled jokingly. “People usually find leg extensions one of the easier exercises. You’ll be fine.” 

“That makes sense. Your legs are part of your body’s largest muscle groups. Studies have shown that your creatine kinase and myoglobin levels increase significantly after an arm exercise compared to a leg exercise.” He explained as you walked to the equipment at the back of the gym. 

You raised an eyebrow. “And that means?”

“It means that your arms are easier to get sore than your legs. They’re also easier to get damaged and heal after an extensive workout.”

You hummed, saving the information to the back of your mind. There must be a day when these random facts will come in handy.

Spencer continued his info dumping as you changed the amount of weights on the machine, putting the pin into 80 lb — a standard beginner’s weight. 

You clapped your hands when you were finished. “Okay, you’re all set up.” 

“What do I do?” He asked cluelessly.

“Take a seat.”

He did as you said, waiting for further instruction.

“And now you place your feet under the lever and lift it up. You can hold onto the handles for support.”

Spencer followed your instructions, holding onto the levers before he lifted his legs. He paused them at the top for a moment before slowly lowering them back down.

“That’s it. Good job.” 

Spencer didn’t respond to your compliment. Concentration was etched onto his face. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth slightly agape as he repeated the motion. His tongue poked out to the side as he counted the reps in his head, occasionally wetting his lips.

You looked at him. First to make sure he was executing the exercise correctly, but you quickly got distracted. Sweat dripped down his neck, the droplets falling into the white tank top that he wore. At this point it wouldn’t have made a difference if he wore a shirt or not, the fabric being so translucent that you could see the color of his skin. 

Your eyes traced him until they landed on his arms. He had a tight grip on the handles, making the veins that decorated his arms and hands look prominent. 

Your gaze fell even lower — and it really shouldn’t have — because now you noticed how his shorts have ridden all the way up to his thighs. It wouldn’t surprise you if they dated back to high school. The material clung tightly to him, and every time he tilted his legs, the shorts bulged around his crotch. 

To put it simply, he looked hot. Extremely hot. 

Get your head out of the gutter. He’s here to train, to gain more confidence in the field. Not to be your personal eye candy. 

You were supposed to stay with him the entire time, as a personal trainer does. But you don’t think you can stand here for a second longer trying to fight the urge to jump him.

“I’m going to do some sets on the Smith machine,” you pointed toward the device that stood a couple of feet away, still in clear sight. 

Again, no response from the still focused Spencer. 

You made your way over to the machine, picking out the weights that you wanted to add to the bar. In routine, you positioned yourself under the bar, placing your feet at shoulder-width, before bending your knees.

In the meantime, Spencer had completed his set of reps. He grabbed his water bottle from the ground next to him, feeling like a real gym jock as he gulped the contents down, then wiped his mouth with the back of his fist.

He looked up to find you. And he was so grateful that he had swallowed, or there’d be a fountain of water bursting from his lips right now.

He didn’t know what a Smith machine entailed, but he definitely didn’t expect to find you in a squatting position yet again. His eyes went to your ass first, obviously. Seeing how perfectly you filled out your leggings, the fabric clinging to every curve, giving the illusion that it could rip at any given moment. 

But then his eyes snapped to your upper back. How the muscles in your shoulders flexed as you lifted the bar of weights. There was something so enticing about how strong you were. He thought back on all the times he had pinned you down underneath him, not having realized that you could easily spin him around. Dominate him.

A shiver soared through his body, straight to his pulsing cock. He looked down, embarrassed to find himself twitching, the tip of his cock begging to escape from under his shorts. He placed a hand on his bulge — meant to stop himself — but with the way you kept bending down, he had no choice but to rub his hand over his length. 

A breathy moan escaped his throat as he watched you. He imagined lying down on the ground beneath you — germs and safety hazards be damned — holding you by your hips as you’d press your bare cunt into his face. He’d make sure to make the most out of every squat, licking your folds and kissing your clit, before you stood back up.

Spencer didn’t know during which set his hand had found its way into his shorts, only that he struggled to keep quiet as he tugged on his length. His eyes rolled back as he circled his tip with his thumb, collecting precum and using it as lube to stroke the rest of his cock. 

He fantasized about you walking up to him, holding onto his shoulders as you’d climb on top of his lap. How you would free his cock from the restraints of his boxers. The way your mouth would open in a gasp at the sight of his throbbing length springing free. You would grab him by the shaft, rubbing his tip against your puffy lips before sinking down onto him. His hands would clasp onto your ass, massaging the flesh like his cock would massage your inner walls as he pumped his length into you. 

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, flicking his wrist faster as his gaze remained burnt on you. 

He had his eyes closed shut, nearing the brink of an orgasm, when he heard the loud clang of the bar attaching to the machine. At record speed, he adjusted his length, tugging his tank top over his shorts in an effort to hide how hard he was. He then wiped his hands on his shorts, just in time before you walked up to him.

“Hey,” you said, out of breath. “How did it go?”

“Good! Good. I completed all the sets, actually.”

A beautiful, bright smile tilted at the corner of your lips. It almost distracted him from the way your breasts pushed up in your sports bra, shining in a light coat of sweat. Almost. 

“I thought of another exercise we could do,” Spencer suggested.

Curiosity filled your mind. “Okay, gym rat. Let’s hear it.”

Spencer walked you to the hip abductor, a machine that trains the muscles of your inner thighs and glutes by sitting down and spreading your legs against the resistance of the padded weights. 

You waited for him to sit down, but he remained standing behind you. Your neck flushed with goosebumps as he leaned in, breath tickling the skin. “I want you to use it.” 

“Okay,” you chirped, trying not to show how much his proximity was affecting you.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he tsked as you stepped forward. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. And that’s when you felt it. His erection poking at your lower back. 

“You can’t possibly work out in an outfit like this,” he said, fingers playing with the waistband of your leggings.

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean?”

His hand slid lower into the fabric, fingers grazing your hip bones. “I think you should take these off. Don’t want it to be ruined with sweat, or you know, something else.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Reid?” 

“You never seemed to back down from one before,” he dared.

A glint of mischief flickered in your eyes. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of your leggings, and you swore you could hear him take in a sharp breath. 

You bent over. In an agonizing slowness, you pulled your leggings down, revealing the plumpness of your bare skin. 

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” Spencer praised, eyes scanning the curves of your nude ass and legs.

You slipped away from his grasp, grinning as you took your place at the seat of the machine. As the manual explained, you spread your legs, grateful that you kept the weights at beginner’s level. 

You threw your head back laughing as Spencer kneeled in front of you, finally making the connection on what he was about to do. “You are absolutely insane. Do you know that I could crush your head with these weights?”

He hummed, not really caring about the possible consequences as he was face to face with your spread-open pussy. “It’ll be worth it.”

He reached out with his finger, drawing a line up your slick folds. “Also — considering your expertise in exercises like this, and the fact that the weights are way less heavy than the ones you’d usually choose — I estimate that my chances of not dying are pretty high tonight.” 

Before you could give a clever response back, he pressed his finger down on your clit. A shudder coursed through your body, accompanied by a flutter of butterflies.

“You’re so wet already,” Spencer mused. “What have you been thinking of?”

“Same thing as you,” you responded, thinking back on how hard his cock was when he pressed it against you. 

He continued trailing his fingers up and down your slit, warming you up, before halting them at your entrance. “Ready?”

You nodded hastily, anticipation pulling at your core. 

Spencer slipped a finger inside of you with ease, groaning at the sweet sound that escaped your lips. Being fingered never felt special before; that was until you met Spencer. Though it wasn’t fair to compare him to any of the other people you’ve been with. His fingers were heavenly: long, slender, soft. He pumped it in and out of your pussy before leaning in and capturing your clit with his tongue. Surprise washed over you, but you didn’t have time to adjust to the feeling. He clouded your mind by switching between flicking his tongue and sucking on the bundle, while his finger matched the steady rhythm. 

“Need more,” you whimpered, rolling your hips into his face. He hummed against your clit, the vibrations sending tingles through every part of your body. 

When he pulled back, his lips were glistening with your juices. “Can you handle another finger?” He asked as he swiped his tongue over his lips.

You quickly nodded, not even needing him to ask for permission. He stretched you out by inserting another finger, not stopping until he was knuckle-deep inside of you.

“I like this machine,” he stated, curling his digits up to your g-spot. “I don’t need to hold your thighs open to keep you from squirming.” 

You softly cried as the tips of his fingers hit your pleasure point, increasing his pace in a way that made you see stars. 

“You look so pretty. All spread out for me, letting me use you how I want.” He muttered, more to himself than to you, before he attached his lips back onto your pussy. 

The pleasure felt overwhelming. Spencer stimulated you with his hands and mouth in all the spots that he could. He was good at this. Too good at this. You felt almost sad when you felt the familiar heat building up, not wanting it to be over yet. 

Still, you gasped, “Just like that!” Your hands were gripping the handles of the machine for dear life as the tip of his tongue drew figure eights against your clit. 

Everything cut to white noise, your abdomen tightened, and your hips started spasming until you finally cried out his name.

Your body trembled in aftershocks as Spencer made sure to lap up your juices, not wanting a single drop to go to waste.

He stood up, taking his time as he lovingly grazed your cheek with his clean hand. “Felt good?”

You hummed in response. Your eyes fluttered to the obvious tent in his shorts, not able to ignore it. “That looks painful,” you observed.

“I really want to be inside of you.” He confessed. 

His words made you chuckle. Spencer always made sure to satisfy you first, before thinking of his own needs. Even when his achingly red tip had been leaking precum ever since he saw you in that gym outfit earlier today. 

“Where do you want me?” You purred, making a groan escape his throat. He loved the way you let him take direction, how you made it seem like he was the one in charge — when you were both completely aware of the fact that you could have him on his knees at any given time and at any place that you’d like. 

His eyes scanned the gym, landing on an empty bench. 

“That one.” He decided, like he chose some Sour Patch Kids in a candy shop. 

You got up — used to having shaky legs due to working out every day — and took Spencer’s hand in yours, guiding him to the sole bench next to the colored kettlebells. 

Spencer was glad you were holding his hand, or otherwise he’d have stumbled against every surrounding object, too entranced by the way your hips moved from side to side with every step that you took. If he wasn’t so hypnotized by the sight, he would’ve given your ass a slap — more like a tap — not enough to cause you pain, but enough for you to squeal. Enough for you to move to your tiptoes in reflex. Enough to see your ass shake. 

As if born ready, you laid down on the bench, spreading your legs that bent perfectly due to the position you’d just held for minutes. 

Spencer didn’t waste any time, pulling his shorts and boxers down in a single, swift movement, his cock jumping free from its confinements. You grinned when he also got rid of his tank top. You bit your lip as you looked at him, wet curls of hair sticking to his forehead and his chest glistening in a light layer of sweat.

His large hands wrapped around your ankles, holding you in place. He then tilted his hips until his length lined up with your needy pussy. A drip of precum spilled from his tip, cock aching as he took in how perfect you looked: your clit still swollen from his tongue, and your soft thighs glittering from the wetness that was still leaking out of you. 

In a single motion, he pushed himself in. His cock disappearing all the way in between your folds.

Your brows furrowed and your mouth hung open as he started moving his hips, not giving you the time to recover.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “You just feel too good. So warm. Couldn’t wait.”

Your hands gripped around the air, needing something to hold onto as he fucked you deeply.

You settled on your tits. Cupping them through your sports bra, pinching your nipples that were so hard they poked right through the layer of fabric.

“Oh fuck, baby, you look so hot like that.” Spencer moaned. “I’m so lucky,” he said in awe. 

He opened your legs further — surprising you with your flexibility — as he hovered above you. His cock slipped in even deeper, your pussy swallowing him to the hilt. You could feel every vein as he massaged your inner walls, relieving you of your aching. He was close enough for you to dig your nails into his shoulder blades. He didn’t attempt to muffle his whimpers when you pressed little half-moon indents into his back. Your in-sync moans and the colliding of bare skin were the only sounds that echoed off the bare gym walls.  

Spencer anchored you in place with his length while his hand reached out to pull the cup of your bra down, freeing your breast. In a second his mouth was latched onto your nipple, sucking on it like he was a man starving. 

“Kiss me,” you whimpered, hands tugging at his hair. You needed to feel those soft, pink lips on yours. 

As much as he loved your tits, he obeyed in an instant. Hungrily locking his mouth with yours. He placed his bent arms on either side of your head, large hands cupping your face as he kissed you intensely. His tongue swiped against yours in the same exquisite way as the tip of his cock swiped the place inside of you where you needed him most. 

“Legs hurt,” he whined against your mouth. 

“Count it- fuck,” you moaned as he thrust deep into you. “Count it as an exercise.”

He chuckled breathlessly. “This might be the hardest one yet.”

Literally, you thought. But the word couldn’t make it past your lips, transforming into a high-pitched moan as he upped his speed.

“Just like that, please, Spencer,” you cried out.

There was no bigger motivation than your sweet pleas filling his ears. With all his might, he slammed into you, your pussy pulsing around him, making his vision hazy. All that was on his mind was you. How you felt. How you tasted. How he needed to spill inside of you. 

A string of yes’s repeatedly left your lips, signaling to him that you were close. 

“I’m going to come inside of you,” he announced, swallowing your moans by pressing his lips back to yours. 

You clawed at his back, bucking your hips up into him until a jolt of electricity shot through your body. Your back arched off the bench as you gave yourself over to the all-consuming feeling. It was not even a second later when Spencer’s legs gave out. His cock twitching as spurts of white filled your insides. 

He collapsed on top of you, feeling your racing heartbeat against him. For a moment you lay down like that, on the way too narrow bench. Enjoying each other’s presence as a comfortable silence filled the air.

Once his breathing had calmed down, Spencer seemed to notice a small, red flickering light that was attached to the ceiling. A security camera. 

“Hey,” he started, asking for your attention.

You made a small sound, too exhausted to speak. 

“You have the keys to the office, right?”

“No, just to the entrance. Why?”

[hihomeghere]

Wedding at the End of the World | Five Hargeeves \ F!Reader

Word Count : 3.3k Summary : A reader insert for the episode Wedding at the End of the World. You and Five reminisce on your wedding/proposal before going to Luther and Sloanes wedding. You both go to the wedding with high hopes of a good evening. ( I do not own the Umbrella Academy or any of their characters) Warnings/Tags : Cursing, fluff, alcohol, allusions to sex, mentions of death, use of y/n, Aged up!Five. Not requested.

“How was the bachelor party?” You asked as Five walked into your shared hotel room. He walked over to the bed.

“Wasn’t half bad.” He said with a smug smile. He sunk down onto the mattress untying his shoes. You set your book down on the side table, it wasn’t that interesting anyway. But after stopping the apocalypse twice in the last month you were due some down time. He crawled onto the bed and you accepted him with open arms. At this point in your marriage everything was muscle memory, the way you two always came together. His head rested on your chest, while his arms wrapped around your waist. He relaxed, his whole weight on top of you. Your hand stroked his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.

“You know, I don’t regret anything about our wedding day.” He said looking up at you, “but it was nice to have all my brothers together before Luther’s.” He smiled, kissing your wedding ring. A beautiful art deco style band.

“Five Hargreeves,” You said a smile creeping onto your face, “are you going soft on me?” You chuckled as he scoffed.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy spending time with my brothers?” He rolled his eyes, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Whatever you say, old man.” You kissed his head, closing your eyes.

-

“Where are we going?” You giggled as Five pulled you through the outskirts of a vineyard, circa 1972

“You’ll see.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You rolled your eyes following him blindly. He turned through a stone doorway, letting go of your hand. 

You followed him, walking down sandstone steps onto the lawn. The sun was setting, causing an orange glow to reflect on everything. Lavender bushes lined the lawn, Five stood in the middle, a picnic set out before you. You smiled, racing to meet him. He grinned as you threw yourself into his arms, he spun you lightly, your cream sundress flowing around you.

“What is all this?” You asked, your smile all but splitting your face. 

“Happy anniversary,” he said looking down at you through his lashes. You cocked your head to the side.

“You little,” you hit his shoulder softly, “I thought you forgot.” You shook your head.

“I could never.��� He said, a hand resting over his heart. You shoved him, he exaggerated his movements, falling to the ground. You tackled him, straddling him between your legs. “The food is going to get cold.” He said in between your kisses.

“Is that really what you’re thinking about?” You laughed pulling your hair away from your face. You sat up, removing yourself from his lap. You kneel in front of the food display, two glasses with a bottle of champagne, a charcuterie board, and for dessert different fruit tarts. Five began to pour you a glass of champagne as you dug in. From the lawn you could see the sun set over the ocean. The bright turquoise waves crashing against each other. 

“You know,” Five started, you turned to look at him, the golden rays shining on him, “you are the best thing to ever happen to me.” He grinned at you, chuckling to himself. 

“Same here,” you grinned, laying your head on his shoulder, “I wish everyday could be like this.” You sighed contentedly watching the sun disappear into the horizon.

“I can’t promise that, but I can promise to love you everyday with no conditions, if you’ll have me.” He said kissing your head. He moved slightly, slipping his hand behind him to pull a box out of his pocket. 

“Five are you?” You asked sitting up.

“Will you marry me, Y/n?” He asked with a nervous smile on his face, you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

“Yes! Yes! Of course!” You laughed, throwing yourself into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, laughing with you. He put the ring on your finger, tears slipping past his lashes. You cupped his face, kissing him sweetly. He deepened the kiss, his tongue running across your lower lip.

“You know, I reserved this villa for two more hours.” He whispered, pulling away from you, a lick of fire behind his eyes.

-

“This is officially worse than the apocalypse.” Five mumbles next to you. You hit him softly, grinning. 

“Oh hush.” You say turning back to Sloane and Luther. Sloane looked breathtaking, they both glided on the dance floor. Drawn to each other like magnets. Unable to be apart, always connected to each other in some way.

“Were we ever like that?” Five asked his nose wrinkling in disgust as his arm snuck around your waist, pulling you into his side.

“Who says we aren’t?” You laughed leaning into him, your head resting on his shoulder. He kissed your head, sighing as he watched his brother dance with his bride. 

There was no denying how deeply he felt for you. It was no use, he had tried to bottle up the love he felt for you for years! And yet here you were, nestled in his arms. He still couldn’t quite understand how you had fallen for him. You were heaven on earth, a cool drop of water in the apocalypse. You were nothing like him, pure, kind, empathetic, any man's dream girl.

And you had chosen him. A stubborn, egotistical old man who had (at first) brushed you off without a second glance.

You worked hard, breaking down his walls brick by brick. Like those bricks Five had fallen for you, and hard. His heart had long ago been branded yours with a hot iron. He was only so lucky that you had fallen for him just as hard as he had fallen for you. 

“C'mon Mr. Hargreeves,” you said, detaching yourself from his side, “dance with me.” You asked, reaching your hand out. He smiled softly, taking your hand in his. You could ask him to cut out his heart and give it to you on a silver platter and he would do it. 

“How could I resist Mrs. Hargreeves?” He asked his hand returning to its rightful place at your hip, his other hand holding yours. You both swayed gently to the music, your nose nestled into his neck breathing in his aftershave. You never thought your life would be like this, after all the torture and pain you had been through. You never thought you would have a normal life after that. Well, your life with Five wasn’t exactly normal. You were both stuck in your 20 year old bodies after a mishap time traveling, a couple apocalypses under your belts, and a crazy family to boot. 

But it was your life, he was yours, and you were his. You were happy, content, even if the world was going to end. As long as Five was by your side you could face anything, even the end of it all.

“Oh what am I going to do with you?” You chuckle looking into his green eyes. A smile split his face, creeping all the way to his eyes.

“Anything.” He replied simply before capturing your lips against his. You hummed softly, closing your eyes. The song slowly came to an end, and you both retired to your table. 

There, Five made it very clear that he had one goal for the night. He poured a concoction of alcohol into glasses for the both of you, trying to get you as drunk as he was. You were giddy, the booze making you tingly all over. Every time Five would catch your eye you would giggle and shy away from his gaze. He put his hand on your leg, his fingers slowly inching up your thigh. He was trying to find an excuse to get you both out of this reception and back up into your room. He knew in a blink he could get you back in bed, but how to do it without 1. Drawing suspicion and 2. Without having to hear about how rude it was for you both to leave and effectively killing the mood. Unfortunately for Five, his brother had to cock block him.

"Cinco!" Klaus exclaimed as the two looked over. "Mi hermano! And hermana-in-law.” He lowered his voice smiling at you.

"Oh, god," Five said, chewing loudly. "What do you want?" You giggled while sipping your champagne.

"Listen to me," Klaus said, sitting in front of you, "Dad is upstairs right now with a plan to save everything. So what say you and I pop up to the suite for a little chit chat?"

"Are you like Frick and Frack with the old man now?" Five asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at Klaus.

"Y/n help me out! This dad's different," Klaus defended him. "He's a turtle. Hard on the outside, but all cute and wrinkly and occasionally delicious on the inside." Five took a drink of his champagne 

"Klaus?" Five asked.

"Yeah?"

"Old dogs like me and him never change," Five told him. You rolled your eyes, lightly hitting his shoulder. "It’s true! He has never had our best interests at heart. So, my only plan for tonight is to get fucked up beyond all recognition."

"Sure. Have at it," Klaus said, getting up as Five placed a shot inside another drink.

"I shall!" Five exclaimed taking a shot.

“Y/n what do you think?” After not making any leeway with Five, Klaus turned to you.

“Klaus, can’t you just enjoy the party? No apocalypse talk for one night, please.” You smiled lazily, resting your hand on his velvet suit.

“You’re only getting away with this cause you’re cute, you know that right?” He groaned, rolling his eyes. Five recoiled, a disgusted expression on his face.

“Oh please, it’s not like I’m gonna jump your wife’s bones.” He smirked, “Although Y/n….” He trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Klaus, if you would so kindly walk away before I break your arm.” Five clenched his jaw, Klaus recoiled before walking away. “Why do you humor him?” Five asked as you turned to face him.

“Because he’s your brother, and for the most part he’s a good brother.” You said putting your hand on his shoulder looking into his eyes. He avoided your gaze. You smiled before leaning forward and placed a kiss on his cheek, over his two freckles.

“He better not sit here.” Diego said quite loudly drawing your attention away from Five, which he responded with a whine when your lips left his cheek. “I swear to god he better not sit here.”

“What is he doing here?” Ben added, “Who invited him?” Your eyes caught the elephant in the room. Reginald Hargreeves, your father in law. He gave a weird smile which just made the awkward tension in the room ten times worse. You looked back at Five, who gave you a knowing look before shrugging and taking another shot.

Lila and Diego made their way over him, Lilia apparently looking for an introduction.

“You won’t make me do that, right?” Five asked, taking your hand as you watched the somewhat pleasant interaction.

“Small talk with my in-laws is not on my apocalypse bucket list.” You reassured him, laughing. He smiled, “But if you wanted to go over and talk to him, I wouldn’t make you go alone.” He rolled his eyes staring at you.

“I’d rather lick a cheese grater.” You snickered before stealing one of his champagne flutes and downing it.

-

“What is he doing?” You asked as Reginald got up with a flute and a microphone, “oh my god is he going to give a speech?”

“Dear god, let’s hope the kugelblitz takes us before he starts.” Five mumbled before drinking another flute of champagne. You reached out blindly hitting him on his shoulder, you couldn’t look away from the anticipated train wreck in front of you.

“Sloane ever since you were a little girl, I’ve always known you were exceptionally bright. And although I can’t say I know Luther all that well, from the few moments we have shared, it seems you have found yourself an adequate partner.”

“He just called Luther adequate.” Five snickered a grin plastered on his face, you shushed him not wanting to miss any part of the speech. 

“I acknowledge that as a father I was not without my faults. I hope these shortcomings will be seen as only a rough patch on an otherwise verdant lawn.”

You took Five’s hand, giving him a smile. 

“You know for the most part this isn’t a bad speech.” You whispered, “Remember that wedding we went to in 1986?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“How could I forget? We killed the groom's uncle after the reception.” He said meeting your eyes, a lick of fire in them.

“See! No one has died at this wedding!” You said the alcohol giving you a false sense of confidence.

“Yet.” He reminded you by holding up his flute for you, you raised your own clinking the two glasses. 

“I’m proud to call you my children. Even those whom I raised in a revenant version of myself.” Five leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. You rubbed his back lightly, gauging his reaction. “I hope that tonight we can create a few special memories, in whatever precious little time we have left.” You looked back over at Five, biting your lip slightly. You had a good run, but like Five you were so tired of running.

“So in closing, the sun rises over a lily field. A mother veiled her lips concealed.” Alison stormed off toward the elevator, “the mourners come in droves of black. To bury what their hearts unpack, with shallow breath and time eclipsed.” You looked over at Viktor who was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. A pain shot through you at his expression. “I pray you miss death's gentle kiss.” He raised his flute to Luther and Sloane.

You sat in silence for a minute, turning your attention back to Five. He had the same pained expression, you grabbed his hand squeezing it. He turned to you, offering you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Diego and Klaus started clapping, “Bravo! Bravo dad!” Klaus said.

“I didn’t think the old man had it in him.” Five whispered to you.

“Guess some old dogs can change.” You offered wrapping your hand around his bicep, pulling yourself closer to him.

“My wife, always the optimist.” He smirked, taking another sip of champagne.

“You love it.” You said resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“That I do.”

You watched as Lila, Diego and Klaus all made their way to the dance floor, Luther and Sloane joining them.

“Come on mister,” you said, pulling yourself to your feet. He rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance before taking your hand as you pulled him onto the dance floor. 

-

Slowly you all made your way out to the courtyard. Five draped his suit jacket over your shoulders as you led him to two chairs. He had definitely met his goal for the night. He was fucked up beyond all recognition. You sat next to him, pulling him back into your chest. His cheeks were rosy, a side effect of all the alcohol. His warm hand rested on your thigh, absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. While the bottle he had been nursing was clutched tightly against his chest. He rested his head on your shoulder as you looked up at your impending doom. Was it wrong to say it was beautiful? The swirling reds that danced in the dark sky. The orange string lights casted a glow on all of you, illuminating the otherwise dark courtyard. You pulled the bottle away from Five's lips, taking a drink for yourself. He let out a whine as you pulled it towards your lips.

“Hey guys.” Luther said as Sloane and him sat down. You waved to them as Luther leaned over to say something to Viktor. He put a hand on his back before Diego piped up.

“Oh no, no, no, no!” He said as Ben and Klaus walked over to where you were all seated. 

“Klaus, why are you bringing Ben here!” Five said with a slight crack in his voice gesturing at Ben.

“Hear me out!” Klaus said as a very drunk Ben leaned on him adding a little word here and there.

“The brother that you all knew as Ben is gone. And not- I don’t mean our Ben the nice Ben.” He clarified, “I mean this Ben.” He said pointing back to Ben as he put a bottle to his lips. “The asshole he’s gone now.” 

“Klaus what are you talking about?” Luther asked, looking around at all of you.

“And the man that stands in front of you is new, new Ben.” You watched as Klaus shook Ben, Five winced slightly looking at his two brothers. “And he’s one of us, and he’s a member of the team.” Klaus started chuckling, “and he’s part of the family!”

“Part of the family!” Ben yelled in unison

“And as a welcome gift I suggest we throw him off the roof.” Five smirked before you hit his chest. “What was that for?” He asked, dazed looking up at you.

“Five.” You deadpanned 

“Yeah I’ll help.” Diego said, looking at you two.

“Come on!” Klaus said both of them were hanging off each other.

“You know what, you know what.” Luther said pointing at the two men, “He can stay. He can stay.”

“Why?” Diego asked looking up at Luther

“Cause it’s my wedding day, man. Come on, he can stay.” You giggled as Ben and Klaus stumbled over to you all.

“How many times can he pull the ‘It’s my wedding card’” Five asked, rolling his eyes. 

“As many times as he wants babe” You said kissing his head.

“Barf,” Lilia said looking over at you two, “not you love, just the general idea of anyone finding that little turd attractive.” She said pointing at Five.

You shook your head trying to hide your smile. Five recoiled before looking back at you.

“Stop smiling!” He groaned, his brows furrowed, he looked like an angry toddler. At that you could help laughing, you held his face in your hands.

“Oh baby, don't be upset.” You kissed him before kissing all over his face, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose.

“Ooh woah, holy smokes.” Klaus said, looking up at your impending doom. Five reached for the bottle taking another swig.

“Hey you know something?” Luther said, breaking the silence, “tonight is all I ever really wanted.” A smile spread across your face as you looked at your brother in law.

“To get hitched?” Diego asked 

“Just… everybody coming together when it really matters.” He said, you grabbed Five's hand lightly squeezing it, “one big real family.” He kissed your hair, you all knew that Luther was the only one out of the siblings to have the guts to say what he felt. Suddenly Five moved off of you trying to get to his feet, clutching his stomach. He dry heaved as he almost fell onto his face, barely catching himself.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Everyone yelled leaning away from your stumbling husband.

“Oh I think I’m gonna hurl,” he muttered to himself. 

“Go get your man Y/n.” Diego said as you walked over to Five rubbing his back.

“Actually uh,” Five said, breaking away from your grasp, “I think I’m hungry, see ya guys I’m gonna hit the buffet.” He said stretching out his arms before gesturing inside. You sighed as he stumbled toward the building.

“Is he gonna be ok?” Viktor asked, pointing toward Five with his bottle.

You turned back to find all your siblings chuckling softly.

“I better go after him.” You said pointing behind you, “good night guys.” You waved before following Five inside.

“Night y/n.” Diego said, waving at you.

“We know who isn’t getting screwed tonight!” Klaus said loudly, you only flipped him off before heading inside. After your lovely drunk husband. You wouldn’t trade your family for the world.

[demontobee]

Good Omens is queering TV/storytelling - part 1: GAZE

I would argue that part of why Good Omens is so refreshingly queer is because it does not cater to the male gaze (which centers around the preferences - aesthetic, romantic, sexual, visual, logical, emotional, political ... - of mainly white men in positions of power):

no oversexualization of groups or types of people: Women or characters that could be read as female presenting are not overly sexualized. In fact, some of them are shown to be grimy, slimy and not sexual at all. All of them are real characters and not just cardboard-cutout on-screen versions of male misogynistic fantasies. They portray real people with real people problems. They are human, or exempt from our categories when portraying angels or demons. There are no overly sexualized bodies in general (as has so far also often been the case with young gay men, PoC, etc.), no fetishization of power imbalances, and not exclusively youthful depiction of love and desire.

sex or sexual behavior is not shown directly (yet): All imagery and symbolism of sex and sexuality is used not to entice the audience but is very intimately played out between characters, which makes it almost uncomfortable to watch (e.g., Aziraphale being tempted to eat meat, Crowley watching Aziraphale eat, the whole gun imagery).

flaunting heteronormativity: Throughout GO but especially GO2, there is very little depiction of heterosexual/romantic couples; most couples are very diverse and no one is making a fuss about it. There is no fetishization of bodies or identities. Just people (and angels and demons) being their beautiful selves (or trying to).

age: Even though Neil Gaiman explained that Crowley and Aziraphale are middle-aged because the actors are, I think it is also queering the idea of romance, love and desire existing mainly within youthful contexts. Male gaze has taught us that young people falling and being in love is what we have to want to see, and any depiction of love that involves people being not exactly young anymore is either part of a fetishized power imbalance (often with an older dude using his power to prey on younger folx) or presents us with marital problems, loss of desire, etc. – all with undertones of decay and patronizing sympathy. Here, however, we get a beautifully crafted, slow-burn, and somehow super realistic love story that centers around beings older than time and presenting as humans in their 50s figuring out how to deal with love. It makes them both innocent and experienced, in a way that is refreshing and heartbreaking and unusual and real.

does not (exclusively) center around romantic/sexual love: I don’t know if this is a gaze point exactly but I feel like male gaze and resulting expectations of what a love story should look like are heavily responsible for our preoccupation with romantic/sexual love in fiction – the “boy gets girl” type of story. And even though, technically, GO seems to focus on a romantic love story in the end, it is also possible to read this relationship but also the whole show as centering around a kind of love that goes beyond the narrow confines of our conditioned boxed-in thinking. It seems to depict a love of humanity and the world and the universe and just the ineffability of existence as a whole.

disability as beautiful and innate to existence: Disability is represented amongst angels by the extremely cool Saraqael and by diversely disabled unnamed angels in the Job minisode. Representation of disability is obviously super important in its own right, but is also queers what we perceive as aesthetically and ontologically "normal". Male gaze teaches us that youth and (physical and mental) health are the desirable standard and everything else is to be seen as a deviance, a mistake. By including disability among the angels, beings that have existed before time and space, the show clearly states that disability is a beautiful and innate part of existence.

gender is optional/obsolete: Characters like Crowley, Muriel and others really undermine the (visual and aesthetic) boundaries of gender and the black-and-white thinking about gender that informs male gaze. Characters cannot be identfied simply as (binary) men or women anymore just by looking at them or by interpreting their personalities or behaviors. Most characters in GO, and especially the more genderqueer ones, display a balance of feminine and masculine traits as well as indiosyncracies that dissolve the gender binary.

Feel free to add your own thoughts on this in the comments or tags!

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

Previous - Part 2 - Next

"Those were the words of the former captain of the Tulpar ship, owned by Pony Express, Grant Curly, who miraculously was the only survivor even in his condition after going through a series of murders on the ship, completely vulnerable, by the same person who caused the crash, his co-pilot Jimmy-"

You turned off the television while they were broadcasting Curly's testimony on all channels.

"I'll go buy a few things" you mentioned, getting up from your seat and putting on a jacket to go out. "Wanna come with me?"

Curly turned to look at you curiously, thinking you were going to leave him there on his own until you returned, or that you would take him without asking to keep him close.

Curly: "Please"

He sighed and you took his chair to start pushing him to the store.

They could notice the looks of the people passing by, all recognizing the man, but none able to approach him to ask a question.

"Do you like peas? Lin told me that you could eat without any problem as long as your pieces are small." 

Curly: "I have no problem with the food... I just don't like sweets."

"Okay"

You nodded, adding things to the cart, checking the prices, and thinking about what you could cook.

He stood gazing into the distance at the chocolate aisle, remembering the boxes of chocolates he used to buy for Linda, sighing at the thought that those days were in the past.

He found it strange to think that she was already over 50, while he remained at the age of 34, now being cared for by the younger sister of the woman who had once been his fiancée, who must now be around 32.

Curly: "Your birthday... It was a few months ago, right? I remember Linda used to say that she liked spring because it was when you were born."

"...No, my birthday hasn't happened yet, there's still some time left. But I don't really celebrate it, I just treat myself and that's it."

You shrugged even while looking at the products on the shelves.

Having everything you needed, you went to the cash registers to pay. The woman had seen Curly on television and gave him a discount as if he were some kind of veteran or senior.

That didn't please the man very much.

You stopped halfway back to his home, the streets were no longer so busy, after all, you had left a bit late after all.

"Would you like to feel something different?"

You asked him while firmly holding the wheelchair, there was a slight slope on that street, the man immediately turned to look at you, you looked excited to do something, like a child about to pull a prank.

Curly: "Sure?..." he said without being very convinced

And he let out a scream when you climbed onto the chair's wheel tubes and let the slope of the street make you go down, he could only hear a mix of his screams and your laughter as you went down.

He feared crashing into something or flying off, he didn't want to experience more pain, but the chair kept moving even after the descent was over. Curly was grateful for the good quality of the chair, and that it didn't fall apart when you got on it too. He was able to breathe easy when they stopped after a few seconds.

"And we arrived! Much faster, right?"

You patted his shoulder, ready to get off and push him inside the house, the man could feel the rapid beating of his heart at that moment.

Curly: "Do you do things like this often?" he asked, trying to have a conversation to calm down.

"Didn't you feel more alive?"

He fell silent as he thought about your question, while they descended, the only thing he could feel was his heart racing, the wind on his face, and he heard your laughter close to him, but at no moment was there sadness, remorse, or any of those emotions he constantly felt.

Just adrenaline.

Curly: "You could say that... yes..."

You put the groceries in their place and left out only what you were going to use, you ended up making some fried rice with chicken, egg, onion, and peas.

You could see how the man struggled to use his prosthesis to hold his utensils and eat, everything falling onto the table several times.

You moved your chair closer to him, making him look at you.

"Do you want to keep trying or would you prefer that I help you?"

Curly: "I give up for today..." was his only response, sighing.

You took food on your fork and brought it to his face, he opened his mouth and finally managed to take a bite, enjoying the taste of that simple food, he had missed homemade meals after so much time eating the provisions on the ship and then the bland hospital food.

"And? How is it?"

Curly: "Delicious," he replied, opening his mouth, hoping you would give him more.

You couldn't help but compare it to a baby bird begging for food, but you held back your laughter to keep feeding it.

Curly: "Mm.. So, when is your birthday?"

It was a very bad idea to talk to his implant while eating, causing him to start coughing as he choked on the food. 

"Well... It's exactly in 5 weeks," you smiled, making him raise his arms and you patted his back.

He was surprised at how quickly he was able to stop coughing when you did that, you immediately handed him a glass of water.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to get a cloth to clean the food scraps off the table."

You mentioned standing up to go to the kitchen.

While you were away, he kept trying to eat on his own, managing to get a small amount of rice on his fork and being able to eat that.

While he chewed, he kept watching out the window; that orange and reddish color appearing in the trees was tinting the whole place.

Her birthday... It's in autumn...

[yandere-sins]

I LOVE YOUR IMMORTAL YANDERE DRABBLE!!! Especially the "favorite" life you talked about. I like to imagine it was the first one. They met you, and you fell in love. You reciprocated! <3 But maybe you died young, too early into your relationship to realize they were messed up. Or maybe you lived to old age and started to wonder what sort of monster you married if they never aged or changed. Either way, they're constantly seeking that high again. They chase your memory through millennia. You'll realize you love them again. It's a soul, right? It's the same soul, just a different body. If you're soulmates, and you are, you'll love them again. They just need to try and try and try and try and try. <3

[Prev Post ♥]

Oh man, I totally see that, and it actually feels so tragic... The poor soulmate yan might actually be the first that one can feel sorry for ;;

Because immortality definitely has its downs. Being the last one of their family is heartbreaking indeed. At the same time, they continue to live without aging, traveling to hide from those who know the yan until they, too, are six feet under. But time moves on, months, years, decades. Someday, not even an immortal can remember those who passed. It's an endless day and night cycle, and no drinking, smoking, or lamenting at the moon can make up for the loneliness and ache in their old bones.

There's so much boredom, too. Once they have all the degrees and worked every job, there's so little to explore. Sure, times change, but no one really needs that much time to try it all. Nothing rouses them anymore, makes their heart beat fast or blood rush. Every enticing drug and med soon becomes ineffective as their body gets used to it.

But suddenly, there's you.

Like the early spring breeze, you ring in the change in his life, your carefree smile and the sparkle in your eyes, more flashing than a diamond. You are everything the yan is not—alive. You savor every moment of your short lifespan and keep falling in love with the small things the yandere no longer cares about. But they do, now, by your side. Because you care about them, and that is enough for them to give it all their attention. If you stop to look at the flowers, so do they. If you want to go to the museum they have been to countless times, they'll go, smiling as you talk about the paintings the yan watched being made. But they love you. They love you so much.

And you do, too. You love them for what little time you two have together. You make the yandere dance in the rain with you and then cuddle with them while you both have a pretty bad cold. You lie awake long into the night, drawing the curve of their nose until the yan reaches up to kiss your hand with the reverence that only someone who loves you could. You make them watch bad movies and let them take you dancing and to fancy dinners, never doubting that the yan loves you and never letting them feel anything less than that you do, too.

So when the yan invites you to go on a maiden voyage of a new luxury ocean liner for the first year anniversary of your relationship, you jump into their arms and kiss them all over their scrunched-up, grinning face since it's that special. Life is good as you two plan what you want to see and experience when you set foot in America. Of course, you are nervous, but it's the good kind, you know? And so is the yan, clutching the ring box in their pocket as they lead you up the ramp of the Titanic, intending to propose to you, finally.

They want to spend the rest of your life with you and find a way to join you in the grave, for that is what you mean to them.

They want it all, the good and the bad days. Children, pets, growing old. Making sure you are always cared for even when your mind forgets who they are. Until then is still a long time, and you will continue to teach them to savor every moment of it. You will understand the yan's condition, they are sure. You will still love them, even when your hands are no longer soft, and your eyes aren't the sharpest anymore. And so will they, never straying, never looking back.

So when you look at them, your beautiful eyes full of tears, fear, and determination, saying that you missed the last lifeboat to be with the yan until the very end, they can't help but sob uncontrollably. They know you're not going to make it... but they will. There's nothing they can do but hold you tight as the ship breaks in two, the mouth of the ocean opening to swallow everything whole.

But they'd be damned if they didn't ask. Didn't kneel or open the ring box as everyone cries and screams around you two. Didn't make you their betrothed even if you'll never be their spouse. And as they swore they would, they love you. Savor every last moment with you, admire the stars before retreating, laughing with you in the cabin until you breathe your last breath in the yan's arms. They kiss your ice-cold hands even though they are too stiff to move, and they pray to the gods above to release them of this curse, to let the yan rest by your side for all eternity.

And they still cry, decades later, as they resurface on a beach. People try to help, but the yandere is inconsolable. Nothing could make them move, the pain of losing you as fresh as on the first day. Nothing, until...

You.

With a bright, carefree smile, the sparkle in your eyes flashes more than a diamond.

And a splitting image of what they have lost, except for the ring on your finger that clearly isn't the one the yan has given you.

Edit: I did my research after writing, sorry :( The Titanic sank in 1912; please don't bash me. This immortal one is a different one from the other post, we can make it work :'D

[alicerosejensen]

Together Forever Pt.1

Warning: Kidnapping, age difference, Leon!ID, affectionate nicknames, surveillance, forced cohabitation.

Synopsis: Working in D.S.O as an ordinary archivist did not promise to be too difficult. At least you didn't have to risk your life or supply the agents with information, you just took care of the valuable data received by the agents, putting everything in order. Everything would be fine… until someone decided that you needed protection from this fucking world full of zombies and other biological weapons.

Note: something like trial of the pen. I think there will be two or three parts, but this is the first time I'm writing something with a sequel (not counting those three texts about a Reader from college). I'm not sure it's going to be good, but I'll try. And yes, I don't approve of this shit in real life. Everything that is written here is strictly FICTION and you do not need to take it literally. If you have any triggers or dislike then skip it.

Part 2

Part 3

It was outrageously easy. Not that Leon thought that your forced "move" to him would be too difficult, but it was even easier than he imagined. His little archivist was still sleeping soundly in the backseat of his car under a strong dose of the drug so that you wouldn't resist when he drove you to his country house. It's okay, Leon just understands that you will need time to get used to your new good life, but he understood that it would be stressful. Therefore, your forced immersion in a sound sleep is just a precautionary measure so that you do not harm yourself by your own stupidity while he was putting you in an SUV. After all, you could have hit your head, cut yourself, or he could have accidentally bruised you when he stuffed you in, but he foresaw all this in advance and now his sweet girl is just sleeping while they go to the new house that Leon has already prepared.

But there will be no special consequences. Leon looks in the rearview mirror, which was specially lowered a little down so that he could observe your condition in case of anything, although there was no excitement. He just drove the car along an empty road, only occasionally there were cars driving straight back to the city. Outside there was only the forest and silence, but another hour of travel and he will settle you in a cozy warm house. A shared bedroom with warm blankets and soft pillows is already ready there. In the trunk he has three large boxes of boxes of your books that he collected in advance in the afternoon when you just left the apartment and some clothes for the first time, but Leon thought it needed to be washed, so it's okay that you sleep in his clothes…then he will buy you a lot of new things. In general, he will buy his baby whatever she wants…the thought made his lips lift in a slight smile.

He accurately calculated the dose of sleeping pills based on your weight, so the drug acted quickly but relatively safely. At least the feeling of nausea, dizziness and disorientation will haunt you for a while until the drug is removed from your body, but that's okay! Leon intended to look after you and take care of you until you finally come to your senses.

When the well-guarded and well-maintained with all the needs for housing finally appeared a few meters away, Leon turned off the engine as soon as he parked the car in the garage where, in addition to various tools with which he repaired his bike, there was also a collection of pistols. He opened the back door and carefully, like a porcelain vase, carefully carried it into the bedroom in his arms. Your head was leaning against his chest and while Leon was carrying you up the stairs, he could not resist the desire to kiss you at least on the forehead. Although it was uncomfortable, his lips touched only the top of your head, forcing you to squirm in his arms, causing an even bigger grin.

Leon opened the bedroom door, got to the bed in just a couple of steps, put you on the soft pillows and reached out to the bedside table, flicking his index finger on the small switch, turning on the lamp. A dim yellow light illuminated a small space, falling mostly on your placid sleeping face. Just like a real sleeping beauty… Leon stroked your cheek with his palm for some time, just admiring you and scrolling in his head how cruel this world is to such an innocent beauty. He saved Ashley, but for some reason she couldn't hook him like you, and Ada… well, it's interesting to solve this riddle woman for a while, but in the end the brain gets tired of the unsolvable task. He is a government agent and people with his profession value the usual stability more than anything else, for which they are ready to give all the money they earn. And you are his little archivist, who spent hours sitting in a dusty archive, sorting through folders with old reports and other documents. Even if you read something from this, you still don’t understand how dangerous it is outside, but he will protect you and you will love him. Necessarily.

However, now it was important for Leon to take care of his baby…

He wanted you to feel as little discomfort as possible after waking up, so getting up from the bed he found some old but clean things in the closet and going back to the bed began to change his little angel. Leon carefully unlaced and pulled your boots off your feet, placing them neatly next to you to put away later. Your jacket, skirt and even blouse followed by a bra. He could not help but hold an enthusiastic glance on your beautiful breasts, his palm gently slid over them, seeing how your nipples harden from the cold air soaring around the room and from this magnificent spectacle it became tight in his pants.

Your flawless appearance alone drove him crazy, causing an unbearable desire to undress himself and just lie down next to you, hugging, feeling your hands on his back. But he drove away the voluptuous obsession by taking his shirt in his hands, gently lifting your body to put your hands into the sleeves and fasten the top buttons, as if you were a doll that needed to be changed…who knows, maybe it will even become his favorite activity? In the end, somehow you got into the blood like smoke, penetrating deeper and deeper that it became impossible to get you out of his head.

Like a parasite, Las Plagas captured all thoughts without giving a single chance to escape, and if at first these feelings were frightening, then after watching you became an integral part of his life for six months. Leon convinced himself that he was taking care of you as he is now, laying you under a warm blanket with pillows so that you lay a little on your side if you suddenly start vomiting because of the drug and it's impossible not to touch your cheek with your lips at least once.

But you didn't wake up. And Leon still gave another kiss on the forehead, clasping your face with his hands, inhaling the fragrance of the desired body. His little songbird.

"You'll feel so good here with me. I promise."

He whispered and it was as if she heard something through a deep sleep, making him smile from the way your eyelids tremble in your sleep while he strokes you on the shoulder.

But while Leon left you to rest, going down to the first floor to unpack boxes of things and books that he took from your unsafe apartment. The door to the bedroom remained unlocked and even slightly ajar so that he could hear how you wake up.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Of course, Leon never had a plan to kidnap anyone, but after all the traumatic events, some paranoia and … the horror that Jason was talking about begins.

As soon as the president's plane disappeared into the sky, Patrick talked incessantly about a pretty young archivist girl to whom he constantly turns up during breaks to treat coffee or a sweet bun to relieve boredom, but Leon always listened with half an ear when circumstances did not force him to go down to the archive and meet you there.

"Can I help?" your voice rang out among these endless folders with documents and boxes on dusty shelves from which his nose itched all the time. Leon tried to determine your location, but perfectly developed reflexes did everything for him when he abruptly turned around seeing you behind his back in a cute skirt, white blouse and jacket. From here, the alarm quickly subsided when he realized that there was no danger.

Perhaps he stared at you a little longer than he should, looking at every small detail on your face, forcing you to sigh impatiently and repeat your question. The agents rarely went down themselves, but mostly they just sent the archive a request and a deadline by which to provide the necessary information, often in digital form.

It was the first red flag and the first wave of feelings that came to him when you first met.

"So?…" you wanted to repeat the question for the third time, but he still spoke.

"Yeah…I need a report. Spain 2004. Los Illuminados" Memories rolled over him like an unpleasant wave, but you just nodded your head as you walked past him, carefully picking up a bunch of boxes, maneuvering between them so perfectly.

Leon only needed this report because of another outbreak in Africa. Not to him, but to his colleagues, however, it was faster to go down himself than to send a stupid request that is still unknown when they will see and process.

"I'm sorry for the mess, we have a little rearrangement and cleaning at the same time. What kind of report is needed? I'll look at the database" you stared at him with such cute eyes that he smiled at you, however, after taking a step, he stumbled over one of these damn boxes, after which you immediately flew up to him grabbing his forearm to help him get up. Not that he needed help, but it was nice.

"Are you hurt?" you asked quickly, to which Leon chuckled merrily. "God, I'm sorry, the last archivist made such a terrible mess here and they made me clean everything up alone. Do you need a Band-Aid?"

"No. It's all right, really, but it's nice of you," Leon dusted off his hands and you stared at his palms as if checking whether he really hurt himself. "But it's better to clean up everything here. It will be sad if such a cutie falls just like me"

You smiled at his compliment, not offended like the others. It touched his heart pleasantly.

"So what kind of report exactly is needed? I'll file it in a week."

"The Kennedy Report. The original." Leon said quickly, carefully catching the information on your face, however…nothing. Perhaps you haven't even touched it yet and haven't even heard anything about those events. Patrick said that you are very young and have only recently come here, so it would not be surprising.

"Okay, it will definitely take some time, but everything will be ideally as it should be. Is it urgent?"

"You have all the time in the world"

He doesn't remember how long it took before you finally pulled out a dusty folder from some box with other reports and handed it to him personally. It's funny that even when you found out that he is the same Kennedy, you practically did not react at all.

You dusted it off and sneezed yourself, so Leon could only hope you didn't have asthma or something. But something else was important because since then you have not left his thoughts.

Patrick told him about your favorite coffee and buns... More precisely, Leon himself saw that he constantly brings you to the archive during lunch. This helped him bond with you, so he started bringing you lunch and even helping with those huge heavy boxes. It's almost indecent that you weren't even given an assistant to put everything in order. And then soft unobtrusive touches began. Passing a cup of coffee, he could accidentally touch your fingers; you let him hold you by the waist as you walked down the stairs. It was easy for Leon to help you, and he even liked that you were like a little doll in his strong arms. It seemed like one careless move and he would accidentally break you.

At some point he was suddenly afraid that you might fall and get hurt or accidentally spill coffee on yourself or one of the many boxes would easily fall on you. There were so many dangers lurking at every corner and he could not always be there to save you. However, that didn't mean that he couldn't not take care of you. Unfortunately, you absolutely lacked care for your personal belongings, but Leon hacked your phone only for security reasons. In principle, there was nothing terrible, except for those moments when some narrow-minded friends invite his dear angel to some noisy clubs or meetings late at night. It wasn't good!

And Leon was most angry when you came home late at night, not worrying about what kind of bastards might harm you. God, you literally put your own life at risk, so of course he had to protect his beloved in every way possible, even if it meant locking you at home.

It was easy to find out the address, insurance number and other documents. D.S.O carefully checks all the details of the new employees, but fortunately everything was in order. And it didn't take much effort for Leon to find all the necessary information, although it took a lot of time to prepare for your forced move to him. Leon has fully equipped his country house, protecting all the sharp corners so that you don't hit. It bought a lot of soft pillows and warm blankets just for you, terry towels, favorite cosmetic products for skin care...Yes, breaking into your apartment also turned out to be a trivial matter. The problem was only that Leon was worried that you might be bored, so after looking at a bookshelf full of various books, he decided that it was worth taking them all with him along with the things from the closet. Well, your game console, too.

the preparation took about three weeks, considering that he also had some working moments that he could not ignore in any way. After all, he should be able to provide you with complete material well-being, because Leon intended to take care of his cute doll with all the love he was capable of. The only catch is that, despite the fact that you liked him, you always kept him at arm's length, just like Patrick, promising yourself no novels in the workplace. Especially with agents who can hurt your heart and soul for fun. That's why you refused Leon even a simple dinner, but this refusal only made him feel touched by you, showing how innocent you are, convincing him that, of course, you should be under his protection.

You thought he was nice and circumspect, but you, but how could you know that he hooked up a tracking device to your phone to know where you are always? Leon was a professional agent of the president himself, but he always looked after you in the car while you were walking to your house after work.

And yet you didn't let him get close to you. Therefore, when Leon realized that it would not work out in a good way, he moved to radical measures by preparing a syringe.

One move and grabbing you with one hand, closing your mouth in a dark alley not far from your own house. Frightened, you put up minimal resistance trying to hit the attacker in the groin and run away as far as possible, since the shoes were comfortable enough, but it was still a lost cause in advance

"Stop messing around, it's for your own good, sweetheart"

The frightened brain tried to do at least something to try to escape and escape, but what are the chances against it? It seemed to you that a steel grip completely squeezed you into a vice, cutting off oxygen and slowly plunging you into a thick abyss from which it was impossible to escape despite all the pathetic attempts to bite or hit opponent.

Being scared, you didn't even know who the voice belonged to. But it was because of your ridiculous floundering in an attempt to escape that Leon stuck a syringe in you, after which all the muscles seemed to turn to stone.

"Shh, everything will be fine sweetie." Leon turned you around to face him when consciousness was already leaving. "So go to sleep and be the good girl you always were. And I'll take care of you..."

Someone else's lips gently touched your face, once he easily picked you up in his arms, quickly laying you on the back seat of the car.

Everything is fast perfect fast clean and no witnesses.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

While you were resting on the top floor, Leon set up cameras in the house so that you could monitor your actions while he was not at home. Actually, he was thinking about a comfort zone like the one in the last apartment - a small cozy hanging chair, a cute fluffy white rug and a small table lamp with a coffee table where you could put a mug with a hot drink while reading a book or watching TV. He even figured out in his mind exactly where in the house it would be best to arrange while taking the boxes out of the trunk into the living room. The luggage wasn't too big, Leon decided a long time ago that he had more than enough money to buy everything for you himself, but it should take a couple of days before the drug he injected into you finally gets out of your body, so your things will lie in the next room for a while, which a little later, maybe in a year or two will become a nursery.

Leon looked into the bedroom again when he put all the boxes together, but you continued to sleep in the same position in which he left you. Smiling, he had a desire to take a break and drink coffee. In complete silence, only grasshoppers were chirping outside and a strong wind was making noise, as if foreshadowing bad weather, everything was quiet when he sat down on the sofa holding the remote control. It took no more than a couple of hours before something fell with a crash upstairs, forcing Leon to quickly jump to his feet and instantly run down the stairs, opening the bedroom door and seeing you on the floor trying to get back on your feet.

Poor bunny, but Leon will take care of you...

I'm a little burned out for writing, despite the fact that I have a lot of requests that I still want to answer. It's just that my psychological state does not allow me to make beautiful and smart sentences even in my native language, so I don't even know if I will finish this nonsense with yandere Leon. Reviews are welcome at least because they cheer up the author by showing that you care.

Of course I will publish something from time to time, but it will probably be at a long interval.

[yanderestarangel]

♡ 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 | 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐅𝐓𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

TW: aggressive sex, daddykink, smut, ftm reader, vaginal sex, oral sex, degradation, sex without a condom, creampie, feminine!ftm reader, himbo!reader, age gap.

Johnny Cage has always been a busy man, especially after his success as a director in the film "Mortal Kombat" after returning to the earthly plane with everything he saw on exo-earth, however, he always found a way to have time for you.

Johnny always had eyes for you, a pretty boy like you walking around backstage like a roadie helping him and the actors, with those beautiful dresses, cleavage on your breasts, perky ass, lips covered in lip gloss, high heels, impeccable makeup, hair tidy, a walking work of art.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏��� 𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒚, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕.

Johnny found out everything about you through your friends, and he wanted you, not just to fuck you, but to make him yours, yes, he was obsessed with you, and he knew it.

It was an ordinary day, you were inside Johnny's luxurious car, in the back seat, as always, he just wanted to be alone with you and he finally did.

"-You look beautiful today my boy, that dress looks beautiful on you, as always." -Johnny said with a smug and lewd smile, his cock was practically tearing his pants as he drove, you could feel his light brown eyes penetrating the depths of your soul, looking at your thighs in that short dress, His eyes remained fixed on you in the car mirror, his gaze almost burning with intense lust. He couldn't resist anymore, he had to touch you.

Without warning, Johnny stopped the car in a secluded area, with the engine still running. He turned to face you with a predatory smile.

"-Come here, dear. I can't resist you anymore."

You obeyed his commands, as you went to the front seat, the car's air conditioning sent goosebumps on your skin as you saw Johnny undo his belt, unzipping his black dress pants and releasing his erect, pulsing member next to the box, and it was huge, to the point where you wondered if you were going to be able to swallow it all, but you did, bending down as Johnny couldn't resist your eager mouth wrapped around his throbbing cock. He savored the feeling of your lips and tongue working magic on him, knowing he had complete control over you.

"-You're a good cocksucker, boy." -he moaned, gripping your hair tighter as he pushed deeper into your mouth.

"-You love pleasing daddy, don't you? Show me how much you want to make me cum." -As you continued to suck him, Johnny's arousal became more and more intense. He could feel his cock twitching, ready to explode inside your mouth. His grip on your hair grew tighter, guiding your movements to match his rhythm.

"-You're going to swallow every drop, boy. Drink daddy's cum like a good little slut." -His voice was low and full of authority, the sound sending shivers down your spine as you eagerly carried out his command.

The sounds of your wet mouth and the sound of the car engine filled the air, creating a sinful symphony within the tight, luxurious space, the leather seat now dirty from your wet pussy.

"-Damn, baby, you know exactly how to please me" -Johnny moaned, feeling the intensity building inside him. He couldn’t get enough of the way you were so submissive, taking him deep into your throat.

Finally, with a loud groan, Johnny released his load into your mouth, filling your with his hot, sticky cum. He watched you swallow it all, his eyes on your submissive expression. It was a sight that fueled even more desires in him.

"-Good boy, you took everything" -He praised, the satisfied tone evident in his voice. "-Now, let's go back to the mansion. Daddy Johnny has a lot more planned for you."

Johnny’s desire for you was insatiable and he wasted no time in seizing the opportunity. He carried you effortlessly in his arms, strength and dominance evident in his every movement.

With quick movements, Johnny kicked the door shut, pressing you against the wall, his hands holding your ass possessively. His eyes devoured the sight of your exposed wet pussy, the plea of your desperate body for him only fueling his arousal further, he pressed you against the nearest wall, the thud making a loud sound as Johnny pulled his cock out of his pants.

"-I knew you'd give in eventually. And now, Daddy's going to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours until you're begging for more." -Cage positioned himself at your entrance, teasing your wet folds with the tip of his throbbing cock.

"-You're a filthy little himbo, craving my cock deep inside you, I'm going to make you cum so hard, boy." -Johnny finally pushed himself inside you, his thick cock stretching you to his limit. The feeling of him filling you completely sent an electrifying wave of pleasure running through your body.

He began to move with purpose, his thrusts deep and powerful, each one hitting all the right spots. His hands gripped your ass tightly, keeping you pinned against the wall as he fucked you relentlessly.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with your moans of pleasure and Johnny's grunts of satisfaction. He didn't hold back, giving you everything you wanted, every moment of your needy cries and the way his body trembled under his touch.

He continued to thrust into you with a slow, deliberate pace, savoring the tightness and heat that engulfed his cock with each movement.

"-Take it, baby. Take all of daddy's big dick. You're doing so well, pleasing daddy like a good little slut, You're daddy's good boy, a silly himbo with a tight little pussy made just for me."

The sight of your pussy dripping onto the expensive marble floor only fueled your excitement even more making Johnny's cock throb even more inside your pussy, slamming the head of his cock hard into your womb.

"-Cum for me, baby. Show daddy how much you love being fucked." -Johnny speaks in his ear while he felt the bulge of his own cock in his belly.

And with that, you let go, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that washed over you, your body shaking in ecstasy as you climaxed. Johnny continued to fuck you through your orgasm, prolonging the intensity of your pleasure.

He finally released his cum inside you, your body shuddering with your own climax. Johnny Cage held you tightly against the wall and his body. With a smug smile, Johnny pulled away, slowly pulling out of you as his cum fell out of your pussy and onto the floor.

And he looked at you with a satisfied look.

"-That's what it means to be a good daddy's boy, clean yourself up honey, Daddy Johnny will take care of you. And then... we'll see what other ways I can make you scream later."

© YANDERESTARANGEL

[octoberautumnbox]

Happy Anni-box-sary!! :DDDD

Whew! It's been a year since I've started writing on this platform (and in general fsgsdjkfghjadskfh), and what a wild ride it has been. Ups and downs scattered throughout the year, but I really wouldn't have it any other way :uwuge:

All that said, let's move onto the box 2024 recap!

Yuri fics I've written: 8

Fly in the Night Trip

Love in the Night Train

Juicy Juicy

Friday

Adrenaline

Enjoy

I Got All I Need

Like It Like I Love It

buncha drabbles I didnt count, some of them fluff, some of them angst, all of them box 📦‼

Yuri fics other people have written: 6

@fillinforlater's Friends that can Keep a Secret

@birchleavesdawn's Bitter Taste

@xshadowdelta's Former Manager pt. 1: Back in Town

@usedpidemo's Cruel Flower

@prael's Reality

@leafostuff's Operant Conditioning

Non-Yuri fics I've written: 11

in my best attempt not to double count when there was more than one idol in the fic (lmao),

1 for soloist Chaeyeon

1 for Kiss of Life

2 for woo!ah!

2 for tripleS

2 for Kep1er

3 for fromis_9

Funnest fics to write:

Hell Week: despite not doing sins's prompt justice, I really did enjoy how I built Yubin and OC's character, even as the writer i fell in love with how sweet Yubin came to be, and while I do think the sex could have been fluffier, i do like how i wrote the ending :DDD

Cute and Caring Noona from Apartment 424: i think deep down inside i knew the apartment thing was gonna come back, even at the time, though i had to promise myself it wouldn't be a series. Yujin and Xiaoting are still a killer duo i'd love to write but it wouldn't fit that well with what i've decided on what the apartment fics will be, instead i'm going with the direction that The Sultry and Pervy Soda in Apartment 307 went and go from there

Like It Like I Love It: EASILY my top 1 from this year. it was everything reader box would have wanted in a yuri fic: a casual relationship, a possibility that there's something more in it, hot sex (literally), and just the right amount (maybe a bit too little) of showing off babygirl yul. i really hope this isn't peak box but going back to why i started writing in the first place, which is that i wanted to see more quality yuri fics, this was something that if i were still a reader would have sated me for at least another year. good job box!

Idols/Groups I've come to know:

Kiss of Life: I think they debuted before me? I noticed Natty first bc ofc I did 😭 but quickly fell in love with how Bobsky just vibes so well with them aaaaaaa

tripleS: I started paying attention around Girl's Capitalism but I knew of them since Generation. I still know only like ten of them and still need to look up whether they're of age or what number S they are but I've written the group thrice now so worth :DDDD

Kep1er: zozi was tough for wizones and I'm not exception, so there was a lot of animosity to this group starting out. I only really started loving this group because of choiyuj, and it was me falling in love with that tiktok that cookies n seggs noona was ever made and it's been upwards ever since

Collabs:

One Heck of a Joyride with @leafostuff: simultaneously this took way too long and not long enough LMAO we started in Feb and released in May, if u can remember Best Job Ever and Like It Like I Love It came out in May too so that was hectic for me. but it's my first and to date only long fic and I hope someday to surpass it in terms of word count and idol nuguness :sitt:

Prompts:

@i-am-lifeform24's Curated Companions: this first major prompt I took part in, where I wrote Dito Muna Tayo :nolookk: it got me attention I didnt know how to feel abt (I still don't tbh) but it was a major step in the right direction to temper my expectations of myself: it reminded me to write for me

@msafterhours's Seasons: this was a major L for me jfkgjslahhf I wrote A Little Goes a Long Way, misunderstanding the prompt "Seasons" for "Seasoning" and making a cooking fic instead. it was a great laugh with him tho, and a memory I come back to fondly

@mintwithchoco's Favorite Song: I wrote Orange-Tinted Sunset with Sticky in mind but promising mint I'd break Belle's heart lmao, at the time my current favorite song switched from that to Nothing and it all just fell in place. I had the idea a long time ago for Haneul but this was the perfect chance to broaden my horizons yet again, and to my dismay it proved @0cta9on right that I kinda was okay at all three genres of fics that touched on after all :bearlazy:

Growth:

can't remember if I said it out loud on the tl but im not a serious writer! that just means that I dont consciously aim to improve how I write and I'm totally fine with the skills and style I have now, and any exp gained or skills learned is has been passively achieved

that said, I'm really so so happy with Fly in the Night Trip and Love in the Night Train. In my first ever fic i said i wanted my next work to be a smut, and that i would be able to write more of what i wanted on my blog soon. Enjoy was both of those, and i even got to write so much more of my ult bias throughout the year and then some. you could call it self-serving, or as @capslocked so eloquently put it, unconsidered readers, all of you. :sitt:

thats why im really happy to be able to come full circle with another fluff in Love in the Night Train, because i feel like it concludes such an awesome year in such an awesome way. id tell 2023 box that just keeping at it wouldve worked out so well, but the extra effort to write just a tiny bit better, to listen to @midnightdancingsol's advice, to stick with it even though work fucked us up (and still does) is going to be well worth it

Hiatuses: 2

ok obviously im not as proud of this one. but each time i did, it was me reevaluating how I run the blog and what sort of stuff I'm getting myself into. it was well worth taking a step back from writing and just figuring out what exactly I wanted to do, and the breaks did wonders for how I paced myself.

these were me asking myself questions that struck the very core of how I conduct this cacophony of a kpop smut blog. it made me aware of arbitrary rules I was holding myself to, and gave me a chance to do away with them. everyone has to clear out their inventory every once in a while, and these were mine :DDDD

Everything else:

ive stopped tracking notes bc I learned since I occasionally write nugu and non-smut to never expect 100+ and I'm always pleasantly surprised when I get there slfjglah but yeah, there's better things to keep track of like what I did above

these are what really matter to me: yuri, writing, and the community i've become part of. while I do think the 1022 club is a fun milestone to celebrate, anything else is a bit more work than i care to make a separate post about (except maybe on bluesky lmao)

at my core, im a glassy, a true fan of the little ball of sunshine that is jo yuri. i keep saying that as long as im able to make one of you lovely readers a fan of her too, i'll know i'm doing good! so to all you box followers, all you honorary glassys, please tune in to yuri! she just released her tenth(!!!) OST entitled Spring Days Pass, will appear in Squid Game season 2 which premieres on Dec. 26 on Netflix, and is bound to have a comeback lined up soon :cuteplead: please join me in supporting her! :DDDD

Aaaaand that's it I think? A wild ride for sure, and I'm happy to have spent it here doing what I love. Hopefully all you readers also show greater support to my fellow writers and friends on here, and as always, stay tuned for more box fics in the future!

Thanks for reading, and see you all in October Autumn Box season 2!!

[luimagines]

I dare you to do one with your favorite trope to write (unless you've already done it)

Oh my goodness, this might be longer that usual. XD

And I really had to think about what I wanted to write. I think I'll make this a one-shot. (unless you guys want more anyway) Prepare for this to be as self indulgent as hell. :D

And I'll make it Time while I'm at it.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

This was the third time this week that you found something like this. You didn't know who was doing this.

A basket, filled to the brim with goodies and trinkets alike, sat properly outside of your window sill. It would be charming if you weren't on the third floor. Someone was climbing up to your balcony and leaving the baskets for you to find.

It was creepy- to a degree. There was never anything malicious about it though. The baskets typically held a flower, a warm meal (or groceries) and some little thing for you to put around your apartment.

You see, you moved to the Kingdom of Kokiri with nothing but a backpack and small child's wagon. Your apartment wasn't even on a nicer side of town. But it hard to be worried about robbers when you're home is bare and empty.

Slowly, that's been changing though. The baskets always had a poem attached, but no name. You secret admirer would give little things from time to time. The baskets are getting more frequent too.

What used to be a small monthly thing, turned weekly then bi weekly- and you're beginning to suspect that they're turning into a daily thing.

Part of you worries that whoever this is, is spending too much on you.

But seeing that the last basket had a new set of dining wear with plates and cups and a some nice utensils to match- you're not inclined to have them stop anytime soon when they're improve your very living conditions as it is. Even if you feel a little guilty.

That being said, this basket had a warm meal already prepared, still steaming in the glass tupperware. There was a small bouquet of roses near the top and a small little box that you opened to see a single slice of chocolate cake.

The card was attached on the inside but it lacked the typical poem. It simple read: "Rest well, Love. You've worked hard today. Dinner's on me. I just want to see you smile in the morning."

You smiles and tucked the card back into its place, bringing the basket back into your apartment.

You have to figure out who this secret admirer of yours is. It has to be someone with access to your floor but it can't be a neighbor. Right? You're on the corner so it can't be anyone to your left. But maybe your neighbor to the right? That's a creepy thought. You hardy ever see him and you don't think he showers throughout the week.

It can't be him. Or at least you're going to deny it.

Maybe it's someone from above? That's more likely. There is this cute guy that you know lives on the floor above you, but you don't know which apartment. It wouldn't be hard to drop the basket secretively onto your balcony from above if that was the case.

The thought rotates in your head as you eat the food. It's delicious. Decadent, even.

Gratitude fills your heart and soul. you have to return the favor somehow after everything this person has provided for you. But how?

You head to bed with a smile on your face and a full stomach. You'll have to start small but you can think of something.

The next morning you head to the castle and walk straight to the throne room.

It was a deal that the king had proposed personally to you. You get to work concern free in his kingdom but you have to report to him every other Tuesday. Seeing as you had nowhere else to go, you didn't think it wise to refuse.

You've grown somewhat close, but with his power and status by his side, you couldn't help but slightly intimidated by him even now.

The king- like most Royals of Kingdoms of Hyrule- was a dragon. Sure, he could take the form of a typical man, but he stayed in his half form more often than not. His age and strength add to his credentials. As the current senior amongst dragons, all you've gathered is that he's lived longer than he appears. The older the dragon, the stronger they are.

King Link is a force to be reckoned with.

However, he's kind and patient with you. He's not all that bad.

You nod and grin at the Captain, who's affectionately called Warrior. Another dragon hidden among the people. You don't know his story, but he's a hard working fellow. He also came to the king in a time of need, looking for asylum and has been working under his employ ever since. He is the king's right hand man.

Warrior smiles back and salutes you softly as you enter. You'll never understand why you've more or less been given free reign of the castle, but with his approval, you feel better to head on in.

You meet the king and curtsy clumsily, still feeling rushed. He's asked you call him Time and he stands from the throne. His face is kind, amused even. A chuckle tumbles out of him as he walks toward you, his marble like tail swinging behind him. "I thought we were passed the formalities, my dear."

You clear your throat. "Were we? I don't recall."

He laughs again. "Come. We have much to discuss."

You nod and follow. He leads you to the back room with a gentle touch the small of your back. It's a familiar routine that you've grown comfortable with.

There's a small rounded table with a pale blue laced table cloth. There's a delicate tea set and it's covered to the brim with snacks and treats alike. You think you see a few of your favorites and your eyes light up at the sight.

King Time notices and he smiles, pleased. "Sit."

You nod and take your usual spot. Time sits across from you and serves you the pieces that you eyes earlier. You almost feel bad. You're still full from the night before.

Time notices. "Something wrong, dear?"

"No." You shake your head, afraid of insulting him. "Someone gave me dinner last night and I'm still a bit full from it."

Time seemed to be shocked by the tidbit. "Really?... Was it good?"

"It was delicious!" You can't help but gush. "I would normally cook for myself but they send food from time to time and it was still warm so I couldn't resist."

His smile turns a little tight. "Is that so? I'm glad that you were fed adequately then.... May I ask who?"

You falter, the smile on your face turning more soft and shy. "Um... I think it was my neighbor..."

"...You don't know who it is?"

You blush and look down onto the table, playing with the treats on your plate. "I know that I should be more cautious. But they've only ever left it on my balcony... It's a secret admirer so to speak. They've given me trinkets and flowers and food. It seems as if they've slowly been furnishing my house for me. I don't know... I've been trying to think about who it may be, but I'm coming up short. Regardless, enough about my lack of love life-"

Time abruptly puts his hand under the table but you catch the reason why before he can hide it.

He's bent the fork in half with his hand, seemingly without realizing it. He smiles brightly, as if nothing happened and the thought gets put on the back burner for now. "Right... Well, you can always ask for my assistance, Darling."

You shake your head with a small smile. "Thank you, but I'm here to report my work. Let's get to business then."

Time clenches his jaw slightly but nods in agreement. "Right. I believe last time you mentioned that you were following a trail of some suspicious individuals on the property of the farm lands for relief efforts. Did that bloom into anything substantial?"

You pull out a manila folder with a smirk and hand it to the king. "Did it ever."

The time passes before you know it. Little by little, as you give your report, if drifts away and you're talking about your lives as much as you can before you leave.

Warrior comes in, informing Time of another meeting has to attend. He looks apologetic.

The king winces but you're quick to stand up, mid panic. "I'm sorry. I've overstayed my welcome."

"Impossible." Time blurts, standing abruptly as well. He reach out as if to stop you and moves around the table as if to block your path. His tail curls around your ankle, stopping your in your tracks. It's gentle but firm. Even if his grip is painless, you can already tell that you wouldn't be able to escape on your own.

You freeze and after a beat he lets you go. Time gulps and stands, seemingly more aware of what he was doing. His grip falls away and he takes a step back. "R-right... I won't keep you from your work much longer then."

You can't help but blush. He's always been fine with putting a hand on your shoulder or your back... but the tail is one of the most sensitive parts of a dragon. And he just grabbed you with it. For some reason, you find yourself blushing.

You nod dumbly, as if your schedule is jammed packed like his. Your heart is pounding. You follow Warrior out of the room as he leads you back to the main gate of the castle.

"Sorry." Warrior says quietly. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Nonono-" You're still shaken by the phantom feelings of the scales around you. Even if it was just a brush, there was a power there. You don't know why you're so out of whack suddenly. The act was more intimate than you were able to admit. "If you didn't say anything, I would have kept going. Honestly, I swear he's just humoring most of the time."

"This is the only time we get him to actually take a break." Warrior tells you. "He'd work himself t the bone if it weren't for you. It's not like he can't afford it. He's two years ahead of his work. By all means, keep him there longer."

You flush and look away, walking out of the gate. "Oh please, he'll get sick of me before we'd know it."

Warrior is quick to bite his tongue, biting back the instant retort that no doubt sat on his tongue. He takes a breath and shakes his head.

"...He likes you." Warrior looks pained. Like there's something there that he wants to say but can't. You don't see it. "Would you like me to walk you home? If I recall you live far enough away-"

"Not enough to cause concern, Captain." You smile and pat his shoulder. "But thank you."

"His Majesty wouldn't like it if anything happened to you." Warrior tries to push it a little bit.

You shake you head. "And take more of your time away? You work just as hard, if not harder, than the entirety of the castle staff. I think only the King works harder than you."

He presses his lips into a thin line. His own scales poke from under his skin. Something is riling him up but you don't know what. You've never seen his dragon form or even his half. He seems to hide it more often than not. You would never know he was a dragon if the King hadn't said anything earlier.

Warrior sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "Very well... Just... be safe, yeah? I don't think the goddesses themselves would be able to calm the king should things go wrong."

"Like what?" You snort. "I end up in the hospital? I'll be fine. No worries."

You wink for good measure and head home, happy, fulfilled and ready to take on the rest of the week.

You miss the next three visits.

Part 2

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter one: southern nights

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI), nothing explicit in this part but future parts will be

series summary: 

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 4.4k

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), mild alcohol use, mentions of food/eating, pet name (sweetheart), polite southern manners (*cough* sir *cough*), feeling familial and self pressure

“I can see a truck pulling up now! C’mere, see if you can get a glimpse of them. You’ve got better eyes.”

Your mother is standing at the side of the picture window in your living room, attempting to stealthily get a good look at the new neighbors moving in next door. Her hand waves you over from where you’re standing at the bottom of the stairs, disheveled from the sleep that is still fogging most of your brain.

You definitely have to be half asleep because you comply with your mother’s urgent pleas, the bottoms of your bare feet sticking to the humid wood floors. You are fresh-air people, as your mother says, leaving all the windows and doors open for as long as humanly possible in the summer. It only lasts for the first few weeks of warmer weather, and eventually, everything gets sealed up and the house becomes a frigid ice box with the way your parents crank the air conditioning. Peeling your feet off the floor one last time, you stop in front of the glass.

Standing next to your mother, fully visible in the open window, you study the moving truck that’s pulled into the driveway adjacent to yours.

A local company. Must already be from Austin.

Behind the massive truck, a navy blue Ford pickup that you don’t recognize coasts down the asphalt, getting thrown into park in front of the lawn of the vacant house. Two men, maybe early thirties if you had to guess, climb out of the driver’s side and passenger seat, already talking over each other.

The one at the passenger side has dark brown, nearly black hair that looks just long enough to need a trim and frames his face with curls. Fairly tall, firm build. The white ribbed tank top that he’s wearing hugs his torso underneath the green shirt thrown on over it, buttons undone. He has a shit-eating grin on his face about something that must have been said, hand banging on the side of the car before he walks back towards the bed to grab a cardboard box out of it.

The other, the one that’s come out of the driver’s side, looks a bit older than the passenger. Much more cropped, but still messy, lighter brown hair sweeps down onto his forehead, the back of it curling up slightly at the nape of his neck. Definitely could use a haircut, too, but the bedhead is endearing. A hand reaches up to scratch at the trim beard and mustache that he’s sporting, the facial hair framing his strong jaw nicely. His eyebrows are furrowing in frustration or annoyance, or maybe a bit of both while his head shakes back and forth at whatever his companion joked about. He makes the grumpy stare charming, and you suddenly have the thought that you’d like to know if he’s always got that crease in his brow or if that’s only reserved for the man who was unpacking the truck now. The muscles in his biceps flex as he shuts his door, t-shirt pulling taut over his chest as he steps to open the rear door, a grin growing on his face.

Out from the backseat pops the most adorable little girl you’ve seen. Looks to be about seven or eight years old, maybe, with tiny, sweet features and dressed in a lilac shirt and denim Bermuda shorts. She’s got voluminous, kinky curls that show off natural highlights in the Texas sunshine. She’s giggling and giddy, reaching for the man who opened the door to help her down from the raised truck. He scoops her up, a shriek of laughter coming from the little girl as he slings her over his shoulder. More muscles flex in his back as he carries the weight easily, walking back to the bed of the pickup to grab some bags out of it to bring inside.

So tunnel-visioned on the vignette of family life playing out in front of you, you didn’t even think that you could be seen. A voyeur of your street, you forget that your curtains are drawn, the window is open, and a large pane of clear glass is the only thing in front of you. As if he could feel the burn of your stare, the eyes observing his movements, the man carrying the little girl turns towards your house. His stare catches your own that was already trained on him, a friendly smile plastered to his face as he raises the hand holding the girl in a short wave.

Mortifying. The first impression that your new neighbor, your attractive new neighbor, had of you was you, standing in ratty cotton sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt, hair falling out of the hair tie at the back of your head. Heat warmed your cheeks and the back of your neck at the embarrassment of being caught, and of being caught in this outfit.

Your mother next to you erupts in laughter, turning away from the window as you grumble under your breath about that interaction being her fault. Trudging back up the stairs to get ready for the day, annoyance is still twisted in your expression. You skip back down the stairs to the kitchen, dressed and hair fixed up, skidding into the open room to see your dad at the table alone, the newspaper in his hand with the job listing page already pulled out and set at your usual spot.

“Morning, kiddo.”

“G’morning, Dad.”

Sliding into the wooden chair at the kitchen table, you start to look over the listings in search of a summer position to occupy your time at home before you start your last year of university in the fall. There are a few postings for dogwalkers, hostesses, and waitresses that you’ve already seen or applied to in the last week. A couple of bartending jobs catch your eye, thinking about the tips to be made, but your thoughts quickly deflate when they require state licensing.

A huff of disappointment rolls from your lips when your mom comes back inside through the door to the garage, an artful smile pulling at her lips. She’s looking directly at you, the expression making you uneasy in anticipation of whatever news or plan she’s concocted. Your mother meddles, in the most loving way possible, but she can’t help but stick her nose in everyone’s business. So the next words out of her mouth really shouldn’t surprise you, but they do make your stomach turn with newfound anxiety.

“So, I just met the new neighbors. Well, one neighbor and his daughter, I guess. The Millers. His name is Joel, and his daughter’s name is Sarah, she proudly told me she was seven years old and starting the second grade in the fall. The other guy we saw was his brother that he introduced me to, Tommy.”

You’re currently rereading the same job listing over and over again to avoid looking at your mom, feigning disinterest as you nod slowly at what she’s saying. At the same time, your nerves zip in excitement at knowing his name now, and you bite your tongue to ask your mom to continue, knowing she’d tease your eagerness.

Instead, you let her tell you about the rest of the brief interaction, recalling whichever neighborhood Joel had said they moved from and how he and his brother have lived in Austin their entire lives.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you both,” your mom addresses your father for the first time in the conversation, the call to his attention making him lower the newspaper to look at her, a silent nod getting her to continue, “I invited them over for a barbecue tonight to take a break from moving in and have a nice meal after their long day. I’m gonna need you to run to the store for me, and I’ll have to get to cleaning the house…”

Your mom’s plan for the day and list of chores trail off in your ears as a buzz muffles it. Your hot neighbor was coming over to your house, tonight, and you were going to have to face him after being caught blatantly staring.

How great for you.

The sliding screen door pulls shut behind you with a woosh and a click, returning to its pathetic job of keeping insects out of the house while letting the slightly cooler evening air in. Foamy flip-flops smack against the weather-worn oak wood deck as you shuffle over to the large silver grill that your dad commands. Steel wool scrapes against the metal grates of the inside; your dad’s bent over to get better leverage to clean all the burnt bits off.

The beach-themed melamine platter weighs heavy in your hands, covered with burgers, hot dogs, and brats - plus a couple of veggie burgers - to the point where the design of crustaceans and shells in the waves and beach towels laid out on the sand is completely disguised.

“I didn’t ask what they like to eat, so I got everything I could think of! You can’t assume these days with all these new folks moving to Austin, I’m trying to be considerate,” is what your mother said to you when you asked if she was planning to feed the whole block or a small army with the amount of food that was going on the grill. 

Don’t even get started on the sides.

You set the platter piled with meat on the webbed black iron patio table to the side of the grill, shuffling over to stand at the edge of the deck, overlooking the chlorine-blue pool water that shines in the slowly fading sunlight. Your parents had installed the in-ground pool the first summer you’d been home from college, jokingly claiming it was their way to make sure you came home every summer, and your brother, Chris, too when he went away to school a short two years after you.

To be honest, it may have been a joke, but it was definitely part of the reason you came back each summer. That, and you just felt more yourself, more at ease at home. It was your comfort zone, but after spending every school year pushing yourself out of your comfort zone academically and socially, you always wanted to return to the warm, sun-soaked home that you grew up in. Maybe that made you more dependent on your parents still, maybe your friends saw it as immature, but you knew what you wanted to do, and you weren’t going to suffer over break just to seem like “an adult” like your friends thought they did.

“You gonna go for a swim, kiddo?”

Your dad’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, focusing your eyes back from the wide aperture they had fallen into as you stood mesmerized by the water moving down below you. Clearing your throat, you cross your arms over your chest as you turn back to your dad at the grill, the clicks of the gas burners lighting aflame while he twists the dials at the front.

“Maybe later. Once this attempt of Mom’s to get the first gossip on the new neighbor is over.”

Your dad laughs softly at your lightly satirical joke at your mother’s expense, shaking his head and giving you one of those looks that says ‘just do as your mother says like you always do.’

“Well, you can relax plenty later. Just be on your best behavior for the neighbors, will ya?” He laughs at his own comment, the sarcasm coating the request he’d made. You’ve never made waves in your family, in your friend group, in your neighborhood. Always known as the “sweet girl” to your older neighbors, the “golden child” to your peers and your family. Your initially reserved nature gives everyone the impression that you are a polite, kind Southern belle. If only they could read minds.

Flip flops thwacking with each step as you cross the deck again, slipping inside through the sliding door. Skating past the kitchen quickly before your mom can rope you into helping with more preparation, you take the stairs two at a time to get up to your room to get ready.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that there was a small part of you that was excited to meet Joel. The majority of you burns with embarrassment and is dreading having to face him after getting caught in your voyeurism this morning, but with how attractive he was, it could be a bit fun to have him as a neighbor next door.

Which is why you’re standing in front of your full-length mirror, hair fixed up from the state it was in when he first saw you and a short, light blue sundress on. Eyelets and embroidery covered the dress, the square neckline was framed by cap sleeves. It was modest enough to keep your intentions for dressing up hidden from your parents, but it was revealing enough to make you feel confident to face your hot neighbor for an official introduction.

The next half an hour is spent following your mom’s instructions, most of them being silent points of her finger while she’s absorbed in another task. Every so often you make eye contact with Chris through the patio door, him in the middle of the same treatment from your dad out by the grill.

At one point, your mom is so tunnel-visioned that when you finish the last assignment she’d given you, you slip out to where your dad and brother are now lounging in the chairs around the table on one side of the deck. The metal scrapes against the wood as you pull out one and take a seat, sighing gratefully when Chris passes you a beer from the cooler next to him. The cap twists off with a hiss and a pop, the water from the melted ice dripping onto your chest. As you tip the bottle to your lips and dab off the water before it runs down your skin to the neckline of your dress, the Millers walk up the steps at the side of the deck, tumbling greetings over each other.

Your dad stands, your brother behind him as they take a few steps to meet Joel and Tommy halfway. Polite handshakes are exchanged while you get up out of your seat, beer left on the table to go get the embarrassment over with.

Sarah stands shyly next to her dad, her little shoulder completely encompassed by her dad’s hand as she looks up at all the men around her starting to talk about the latest Astros game. You smile softly at her and give her a wave as you move to stand with everyone, a slight smile growing on her face at someone acknowledging her. She steps away from her subtle hiding place next to Joel, the movement causing Joel to glance down at her before his eyes turn up to you.

A friendly smile ticks up one side of his mouth, brown eyes speckling with caramel highlights as he squints in the sunlight to take a step forward and reach out his hand to you.

“I’m Joel, the new neighbor.”

You give him a firm, polite handshake with a warm grin attached to it, nodding your head. 

Please dear God, or whatever is out there, don’t let him mention this morning.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir. Hope today hasn’t been too much of a nightmare moving in.” Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you can’t help but feel them turn to butterflies when his eyes darken ever so slightly at the word ‘sir’, hand quickly falling out of yours and resting back on Sarah’s shoulder as he clears his throat quietly.

“Hasn’t been too bad, right bug? You wanna introduce yourself?” His eyebrows raise encouragingly to his daughter and the nickname warms your heart, watching as Sarah grows more confident to stand up straight, a smile on her face.

“My name’s Sarah,” she directs towards you and then turns to her dad, waving him to crouch down to her level so she can whisper at the not-so-subtle kid's volume, “What do I say after that?”

Joel chuckles lightly and whispers back to her quietly enough for you not to hear. He stands up straight again, watching Sarah.

“It’s nice to meet you, miss!” she turns to Joel again, beaming proudly, “Is that right?”

He nods and looks back at you as you laugh softly, a wide smile on your face from the adorable and incredibly polite greeting Sarah’s given you. His own smile pulls larger as you bend down to be at eye level with her, warmth emanating from you introduce yourself just as Sarah did and fall into conversation with her.

She tells you all about her last school year in the first grade, her favorite toys, and how excited she is for her summer camp. The two of you have moved to sit next to each other on the outdoor couch, your drink forgotten next to you as you listen to the bubbly seven-year-old.

Joel and Tommy stay in conversation with your dad and Chris near the grill, standing around in a semi-circle and making small talk about sports, weather, and the sturdiness of your deck. Joel and Tommy mentioned having a contracting business together, and your dad ran with it, asking them every question under the sun about the longevity of the build that was done a few years ago.

Your mom comes out to join them for a bit, sitting with you and Sarah as you talk with each other before she gathers all the meat fresh off the grill to bring inside and finish setting up everything.

A few more minutes pass before your mom pops her head out and calls everyone in to make a plate. You stand up and wait for Sarah to climb off the couch, following behind her bouncy curls. Everyone’s made it through the door ahead of you, except for Joel as he lingers to wait for his daughter. One of his hands finds her head as he carefully ushers her inside, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes.

“Thanks for keeping her entertained. She loves to talk, doesn’t really get that from me,” he drawls out, his accent a bit thicker than yours. You shake your head, waving a hand at him to dismiss him.

“She’s the one keeping me entertained, I’m surprised I’m not boring her with my lack of summer plans to discuss. She’s very excited for day camp,” you chuckle quietly, still standing less than a foot from Joel at the sliding door. You can smell the body wash he must’ve used in the shower before coming over, fresh eucalyptus and birch mixing with the richer cedarwood and bergamot of what you assume is his cologne.

“Oh, yeah. Big time. She was begging me to sign her up finally this year and it made sense with my work schedule getting busier. But, still, thanks for hanging out with her.” He nods toward the door, gesturing for you to walk in ahead of him. His hand hovers behind your back as you step in ahead of him, fingers brushing your dress lightly before he quickly pulls them away.

You stand to the side to let the guests go through to get their food first, Joel helping Sarah put everything she wants onto a plate while balancing his own. Tommy happily starts eating what’s already on his plate halfway through the line, earning a jab in the side from his older brother. Once everyone’s gotten what they wanted, you all pile back outside to the deck to sit around and eat.

The table isn’t large enough for everyone, so it ends up being your parents, Chris, and Tommy sitting around it while you, Joel, and Sarah sit around the patio lounge set. Sarah happily sits on the ground at the coffee table, you slipping a cushion down for her to rest on before sitting in one of the chairs across from the couch.

Joel’s settled next to his daughter, facing you as he wipes his mouth with his napkin.

“So, uh, your dad said you’re going into your last year at TCU? What’re you studying?”

“Public Relations and Advertising. I’m hoping—”

“She wants to move to Boston!” Sarah interjects with a mouthful of hotdog bun.

Joel looks at her with a gently reprimanding look, “Bug, please don’t talk with your mouth full. ‘S not polite.”

He turns back to you after patting his daughter’s curls, lips curled up to one side.

“Boston, huh? What’s all the way up there?”

“Not here,” you laugh softly, shrugging your shoulders as you stab a piece of potato salad with your fork, “I love Austin, don’t get me wrong, but living here my whole life and going to school only three hours away in Fort Worth feels like I haven’t seen much outside of Texas. Plus, there’re some good agencies up there and it’s not as scary of a move like New York or Los Angeles would be.”

Joel nods in understanding, speaking up after he finishes a bite, “I get that. Haven’t lived anywhere but Austin my whole life, but I can understand wanting to experience new things.”

You might be imagining things, but you swear you can hear his voice drop deeper in the last half of his sentence. It sends a flutter between your legs, and the back of your neck burns with chagrin.

Conversation continues to flow easily between you and Joel, and Sarah, too. Your parents don’t ask you to help clean up because you’re so invested, laughing quietly at his subtle humor and smiling widely when Sarah adds in her commentary or tells a story.

Tommy and Chris join you all on the lounge furniture, falling into a wider group discussion of neighborhood politics and what fun things you and Chris got up to when you were around Sarah’s age.

Joel’s eyes stay trained on you whenever you're speaking, even glancing at you when you’re both listening to someone else. The eye contact from him stirs your stomach and hitches your breath, your own stare avoiding his when it gets a bit too intense.

Hours are consumed quickly, the twilight blue skies dimming your backyard so that only the porch and string lights illuminate the deck. Low light and the late hour have soothed Sarah to sleep, her small frame tucked into Joel’s side. He keeps a hand on her back while she rests, everyone looking at her tenderly.

Joel asks you and your mom if you know of any other neighbors with young kids that are going to the park district day camp for the summer, wondering if there’s a possibility to carpool or arrange some care for Sarah when he’s got a busy schedule.

Not knowing anything yourself since you don’t live here full time anymore, you turn to your mom and watch as the gears turn in her head, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Actually, haven’t you been looking for a summer job, honey? Maybe you could nanny Sarah! Drop her off when Joel can’t, pick her up every day, and watch her until Joel gets home from work. That is, if you’d be interested in that, Joel.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to stutter out a response, feeling a bit flustered at your mom’s out-of-the-blue suggestion. Plus, you aren’t sure you could manage to work for your hot neighbor and to see him often; it was one thing to have a crush and pine freely from afar, but spending time in his house? Seeing him every day?

Your thighs press together as your mind races with thoughts about more of Joel in all aspects.

Being the ever-so-polite Southern daughter you were raised to be, you turn to Joel with a glittering smile and nod despite the stomach acid creeping up your throat with your nerves.

“I’d love to help out if you need it. Spending my summer with Sarah would be fun.”

At your confirmation of the offer, Joel pauses for a moment to look down at his sleeping daughter, heading swinging back to you with a boyish grin on his face.

“Guess that solves my problem then. Think you can start next week? Her first day is Wednesday.”

Arrangements are made with Joel as the Miller crew gets ready to leave, your own family have said their goodbyes and retiring inside to clean up after the night. Joel and you stand on the deck next to the stairs that lead to your side yard and over to their house. He shifts on his feet, passing Sarah from his arms to Tommy’s for his younger brother to get her home.

Joel’s arms stretch up briefly, giving you the slightest peek at the bottom of his stomach when his t-shirt lifts. Saliva floods your mouth as the thought of kissing there when you’re on your knees for him passes through your mind quickly. 

Stop thinking about him like that. Yeah, he’s hot but he’s also now going to be employing you.

“Thanks again for offering to nanny, Sarah. She’s gonna be real excited when I tell her in the mornin’. You sure you don’t wanna take the out now?” His hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, a coy smile on his face.

“It’s really no problem at all. Like I said, I think it will be a fun summer.” 

There’s no hidden meaning to your words, but for some reason Joel drops your stare after you speak, glancing down at his boots before he raises his head again, his smile a hint wider.

His drawl coats the words as he replies, “Well, it’s definitely gonna be somethin’, sweetheart.”

Joel turns on the heel of his boot, bounding down the short staircase and over toward his yard. He looks back once, a short wave raised towards you as he calls out a ‘goodnight’ to your frozen frame on your deck.

The front door of the Miller house clicks closed and you finally exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Slow movements carry you inside and up to your room, flopping down to your bed on your back. One had rested on your stomach filled with butterflies, the other over your heart to feel the quickened rhythm.

Joel was right, this summer was definitely going to be something. And you were eager to find out what exactly it could be.

series taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @clingontolife @elizabeth01585 @wandaandellie @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @livinxdeadxgrl @sw33tp1xie @starsandsaints07 @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @whydontyoysaynodoja @beee-haw @shmaptainshmerica07 @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @spursgirl14-blog @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @grapejuicesny @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @lisa-ru @jupitren @ziggy-star @miaispunk @oneofutoo @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @marchai @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @helllsent @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @angie2274 @owod3 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn

[highprincessofthenightcourt]

Okay, so I was thinking about SJM’s writing and how some parts of it are surprisingly heavy and realistic. That got me spiraling into thoughts about her tendency to self-insert into her characters—something that shows up often in her books.

A while back, I fell down a rabbit hole researching her life and career, and that’s where I learned a lot of what I’m about to talk about. So, SJM was adopted—her exact age at the time isn’t totally clear, but it seems to have been sometime before or during her teenage years. She was adopted by a lawyer and a judge who lived in Manhattan. They gave her a high quality education and introduced her to the arts by taking her to museums, ballets, and operas.

In one interview, Sarah mentioned that although she already loved literature, it was after witnessing a tragic event in New York that she really leaned into fantasy as a form of escapism—a way to cope. During her freshman year of college, she met her now husband (he was an RA in her dorm), and two years after graduating, they got married and started their family.

Now, tying this into ACOTAR: I think aspects of her personal journey show up in Feyre’s story. Imagine the emotional adjustment of going from being in the adoption system to suddenly living in a wealthy home in a city as vibrant as Manhattan—that shift must’ve been intense. And I see echoes of that in Feyre’s transformation: from neglect and isolation (maybe even including things like not being taught to read early on or living in poor conditions), to a life full of love, magic, and purpose. Velaris could easily be a fantasy coded Manhattan—it’s where Feyre finds herself, her family, and her true love.

Then there’s the Archeron sisters, and what parts of SJM they might represent. We know that when the first book was in the works, Nesta and Elain weren’t meant to be much more than “evil stepsisters.” But later on, Sarah decided to give them more depth, and to do that, she had to dig deeper into herself and her own experiences. I imagine that was hard—Feyre was her ideal self, and her arc was so solid: full of growth, realism, and beauty. So when it came time to flesh out the other sisters, it must’ve been difficult to know what pieces of herself to put into them.

To me, it almost feels like the sisters ended up embodying two extremes of her personality—one representing her worst traits, the other her best. And while that’s interesting, it becomes a little problematic because Feyre feels like a full, real person—flaws and all—while the sisters can feel confined to certain “roles.” That limitation kind of hurt their development.

We saw some of this in the last spin-off. The arc didn’t fully land for me—it felt like Sarah kept needing to remind us that the character was “bad,” and it got in the way of any real growth. Maybe she worried that if she let her grow too much, she’d start feeling too much like Feyre? I just hope this pattern doesn’t repeat in Elain’s book. I want her to be her own person—not boxed into a trope, but allowed to be messy and real, with good and bad and everything in between.

And honestly… I haven’t fully figured this part out, but sometimes it feels like through her storytelling, SJM is processing different eras of her life. Feyre might represent the full scope of her journey—her whole life, so to speak. Meanwhile, one sister feels like adolescence: all rebellion, insecurity, aggression. The other feels like childhood: blissful ignorance, wide-eyed hope, and gentleness.

Idk. I’ve written a whole damn essay and I’m still not sure what I’m trying to say. But yeah—just something that’s been rattling around in my head.

[gravitycavity]

Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 1 - Put On a Happy Face

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Cover art by @blukiar

“You’re supposed to $%#&ing smile, Pomni!” Zooble's hoarse scream reverberated throughout the big top. “Are you stupid?! We can’t finish the new intro if you aren’t @#$%ing smiling!”

“Leave. Me. Alone!” Pomni, denied the catharsis of slinging her sailor’s mouth, expressed her disdain with her middle fingers instead. She only ended up seething harder, however, when a pair of other-dimensional censor bars appeared to obscure the rude gestures.

“Oh! So that’s how you want to play it, Puffball?” Zooble narrowed her eyes, limping toward the jester with as much aggression as their awkwardly-constructed body would allow — which, for the record, wasn’t very much.

Ragatha had seen enough. “Relax!” She raised her voice, swooping vigilantly between the bickering belligerents. “Both of you!”

Gangle, moping off to the side, sniveled pitifully. In all the commotion, her comedy mask had been shattered. For the second time. This morning. “Guys…! Please, just stop fighting…”

Jax crossed his legs, reclining smartly against Kinger’s impenetrable pillow fort. “Can it, crybaby. This is the best entertainment we’ve had in years!” He flicked a piece of popcorn into the air and caught it in his mouth. Meanwhile, a vibrating Kinger poked his eyes out from between two pillows, saying nothing and everything at the same time.

Ragatha’s good-natured attempts to keep the peace were all for naught. She flinched out of the way of Zooble’s punch — but before the strike could connect, a floating boxing bell materialized out of nowhere, piercing the air with a shrill shriek.

“Now, now! There’s no need for that!” Caine’s wagging finger appeared beside the bell, followed shortly after by the rest of the entity. He lifted his tophat, and a cheesing Bubble gingerly drifted out.

“Naughty, naughty~” Bubble chomped his teeth.

Caine snapped his fingers, and an unseen force pushed Pomni and Zooble apart. “The Amazing Digital Circus — copyright 1996 C&A Incorporated, all rights reserved — is a magical, marvelous CD-Romp for all ages! Zany shenanigans and cartoon mischief I can abide, but outright violence? Strictly out of the question!”

With a grunt, Zooble spiked their arm against the floor. “What are we supposed to do, then!? We’re on take fifty-seven of your dumb@%$ theme song because poor little Pomni thinks she’s the main character of the universe!”

Pomni responded to that, but whatever she said, it was profane enough to be scrubbed out entirely.

“Yes, well…” Caine crossed his arms, steeped in careful thought. The last hour-and-a-half of unusable footage played back through his mismatched eyeballs in a matter of seconds. “It’s nothing we can’t fix in post.”

Zooble swiped their discarded arm off the ground and crammed it back into its empty socket. “Great. Then you can edit me in, too.” They stormed off, reciprocating Pomni’s earlier gesture. “Eat $@#%, sad sack.”

Jax sighed. “Aw, shucks. Right when things were getting good…”

“Uh…!” Caine skipped a beat. He swiveled toward the five circus members still gathered beneath the big top. “Well, then!” he elbowed his soap bubble companion, “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us, Bubble! As for the rest of you, consider yourselves off the hook for the rest of the day — my treat! Take some personal time, get some sleep, and try your darndest not to dwell on the soul-crushing scale of eternity!”

“I have no soul!” Bubble turned upside-down. “So I don’t mind it one bit!”

“You and me both, old pal!” Caine’s laugh sounded forced and unnatural.

There was a pause. Gangle glanced around, then meekly raised her ribbony hand. “But what about—”

“Go on, now! I won’t take no for an answer!” the ringmaster stabbed the air with his cane, “I want you all in tip-top condition for tomorrow’s wacky adventure!”

🎪 🎪 🎪

It wasn’t long before everyone had gone their separate ways. Jax had slinked off to the digital carnival to terrorize the NPCs, Gangle had left a trail of teardrops all the way to the digital lake, and Kinger, as per usual, had just disappeared without anyone really noticing.

At last, Pomni was alone again. She curled her tear-stained face inward and filled her chest with three shaky breaths. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hands tightened into trembling fists, she threw her head toward the sky and let loose a long, ear-shattering shriek.

Why was this happening to her? What did she ever do to deserve this!? She was a person — a human being, for God’s sake — not some stupid, one-dimensional children’s character. How dare anyone expect her to just grin and bear it? She didn’t owe anything to anyone — not even one second of feigned emotion. As far as she was concerned, the moment she forced that goofy smile onto her face would be the moment she surrendered, and she would never, ever, in a million years—

“I’m always here if you need to talk. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

Pomni flinched, wrenching away from the sudden voice. After the emotional hell she’d gone through during her first day, unexpected noises didn’t exactly put her at ease — nor did anything else in this deranged digital purgatory, for that matter.

“Ah! Sorry!” Ragatha covered her mouth. “I didn’t spook you too bad, did I?”

“You did, actually! Wh-What’s wrong with you?” Pomni gathered herself quickly. She didn’t dare to even look in the direction of the person who had just watched her childish tantrum. The moment she found her footing again, she stormed off like her very life depended on it. “Don’t just sneak up on people like that!”

Silently relenting, Ragatha stepped aside to let Pomni pass. She watched the pouting jester jingle and jangle with every step, stomping with boundless confidence in the completely wrong direction.

“Uh…” Ragatha tilted her head. “Pomni? Do you remember the way to your room?”

“Ugh! What do you care?” Pomni doubled her pace. “Mind your own business!”

Ragatha smirked. “Alright, I guess I’ll just head back to my room, then. Which, for the record…” She pointed behind herself, “…is that way.”

Pomni stared vacantly as Ragatha sauntered off. The doll had read her like a book. Locking herself in her room for days on end meant she still had no clue how to get around the tent — if she wanted to get back to her regularly-scheduled self-pity anytime soon, she would have to swallow whatever was left of her pride.

Pomni grumbled under her breath, fast-walking to catch up. “Hey! W-Wait!”

🎪 🎪 🎪

There was no ambient noise to dampen the tension; the dormitory hall’s plush carpet absorbed the sound of Pomni and Ragatha’s footsteps. Ragatha led, hands tucked politely below her waist, while Pomni trailed behind.

The complete, unbroken silence wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was preferable to whatever inane smalltalk would have filled it. That’s how Pomni saw things, at least.

In the time it had taken to walk here, she had managed to cool off a bit — and the unwavering quiet gave her plenty of mental space to reflect on the last few minutes.

She wasn’t sorry. Pomni didn’t care if Zooble hated her — she could hate them right back. Breaking bread with Jax was pointless; that creep preferred to provoke. Gangle was friendly, but to interact with her was to walk on eggshells, and Pomni lacked the patience. And Kinger? Was Kinger.

Arms crossed, Pomni looked up from her big, dumb clown shoes. Her gaze settled on the doll in front of her. Pomni despised everything about this place — but now that she was going through her laundry list of grievances, she had to admit: she had nothing on the redhead.

…What was her name? Ragatha…? She was by far the most mature of the circus’s captives. She was kind. Predictable. An island of calm in a stormy sea.

Pomni’s harsh features softened. Ragatha was the only character who had shown her the slightest shred of compassion since she’d arrived here. The realization weighed down her stomach with more than a few pangs of guilt. Ragatha, of all people, certainly wasn’t a deserving outlet for her angst.

Oh, no — nice going, you idiot. Ragatha was the one thing about this place keeping you anywhere close to sanity, and you’ve already repelled her by acting like a petulant child. She probably hates you now. You know that, right? Actually, it’s not ‘probably’. It’s ‘definitely’. That’s why she isn’t talking. That’s why this is so awkward. That’s why —

“So…what’s under your cap?”

Pomni stumbled. Had the wall not been there to grab onto, she absolutely would have fallen flat on her face.

Stabilizing herself, Pomni gawked up at Ragatha as if the doll had just beamed down from another planet. What’s under her cap? Did she hear that right? It was such an odd, out-of-the-blue question — but at least it had yanked her out of her head.

“I’m sorry?”

Ragatha bent down to Pomni’s eye level. “Your cap.” She said gently, resisting the urge to prod one of the little bells dangling from either end. “It comes off, doesn’t it?”

Pomni blinked. She hadn’t really given it any thought. In fact, until Ragatha had brought it up, she had forgotten that her ridiculous new form came with a hat at all. Doing nothing but hiding under the covers and sobbing for days on end had that effect.

With much bigger problems weighing on her mind, Pomni didn’t really care to check — but something about Ragatha’s expectant gaze possessed her anyway. Very carefully, she hooked her fingers beneath the golden rim. She felt a small amount of resistance as she pushed up, almost as if the headpiece were attached to her body through some kind of magnetic force.

With a just a little effort, though, it popped right off.

“…Huh.” Pomni held the striped cap in her hands. “Look at that.”

“Oh, goodness!” Ragatha tried and failed to suppress a squeal. She paid no mind to her question’s answer, too distracted by the worst hat hair anyone had ever seen. It was certainly a look; a chaotic mess of tangles, knots, and flyaways did as it pleased atop the jester’s capless crown.

“Hey! What gives?!” Pomni ducked her cap back onto her head. A few extra clumps of hair stuck out from underneath. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m so sorry! Your hair is just…” Ragatha giggled. “Well, it’s a bit messy at the moment. But I like it!”

Pomni leered. “…Liar.”

“I’m not making fun of you! Honest!” Ragatha crossed her hands over her heart. “I love your hair, Pomni. It’s…”

“It’s what?!”

“It’s so cute!”

Pomni’s eyes grew two sizes. That was…not the answer she expected to hear. She didn’t know what to say — just that her face felt a lot warmer than before.

“Obviously, you could use a comb…or three. But who cares about that?” Ragatha’s hand drifted through her own thick, yarn-like locks. “You really lucked out, you know. I’d trade your hair for mine in a heartbeat.”

Despite everything, the smallest of half-smiles lit Pomni’s face.

“I, um…” Pomni took a deep breath. And then two more. Her whole body slumped closer to the floor. Try as she might to keep her personal pity party alive, Ragatha’s radiant energy made her forget her troubles, if only for a moment.

“…Why are you being so nice? And to me, of all people?”

Ragatha just shrugged. “Do I have a reason not to be?”

Pomni gripped her other arm, gaze flicking down the corridor. Her smile faded in the silence.

“Well, um, anyway…” Ragatha glanced at the door behind her — Pomni’s awkwardness was infectious. “You have your room key, right?”

Pomni’s heart skipped at the thought of having lost it, but eased at the feeling of cold metal in her pocket. She nodded.

Gently, Ragatha took the cartoonish key from Pomni’s hand. With a turn and a click, the way to the jester’s room was open.

Ragatha held the door, smiling warmly. “You look like you could use some space. Go enjoy some quality alone time, okay, new stuff?”

“O-Okay.” Pomni didn’t hesitate to do just that — until she did. “Um…” She peeked behind a door half-open. After the longest pause, a simple, stammered “thanks” was all she could manage to get out.

Her door clicked shut. And audibly locked.

My Ko-fi - Tips are very much appreciated! :)

[Next Chapter]

[natanielkovack]

Hiii, I would like to ask you if you can make headcannos of Yuca Aoyama from SFW and NSFW please, if you don't want it's fine, I like your content :3

Hi, little one! Thank you so much for your request! Feel free to request anything you want as long as it is into the guidelines!

I Can't Stop Twinkling!

Aged up! Aoyama - Gender Neutral

These are all my headcanons, some of these may be too ooc, sorry about that! If you have any headcanons you'd like to share go ahead! I'd love to hear!

SFW headcanons!

He will totally be the type to do a big confession. A big bouquet of your favorite flowers, a box of chocolates, some jewelry here and there and maybe a restaurant with French music on the background. He either does everything or nothing (always does everything and goes even beyond).

He DOESN'T know what personal space is, PDA is the way he shows affection! He'll be holding your hand, hugging you, holding you by the wait, hips, shoulders, he always has any type of touch with you when you're around!

Going on dates with him means that he'll give you a box with the most precious clothes you've ever seen, beautiful shoes and a fancy restaurant dinner. If you're shy to eat around people, don't even worry! He can easily rent a private restaurant room, even the whole restaurant!

Doesn't matter how tired he is, skin care is a must everyday. He'll always invite you to his dorm, his bathroom may not be big (dammit UA dorms) but he likes the cozy vibes he gets when you're around him doing daily things. He'll gently apply serum, his fingers caressing and massaging under your eyes, jawline, cheeks, nose. He's so gentle even when he's scolding you for forgetting to apply sunscreen that day.

We all know he's a cheese lover, and he shares his passions with you! He'll call you anytime a new cheese is delivered! A little taste test has never hurt anyone after all. Are you lactose intolerant? He'll try vegan cheese (didn't liked it).

His nicknames are as outstanding as him, "sunshine", " glittery love", "my sparkle", " key to my heart", "the shine in my eyes", he only gets better with time!

He is the biggest show-off, his socials are full of pictures together, always matching something with you (jewelry, clothes, shoes, little details!).

His parents definitely know you, it doesn't matter who or what you are, they're always seeking for his son's happiness. They couldn't love you more, seeing his son so happy by your side is everything they need to accept and spend time with you, from lunch together to vacations out of the country.

Do you live in difficult conditions? Well, Aoyama has no problem with that! He's always willing to give you anything you need if it means you won't stress over everything and you spend more time with him. Want to travel? He's got your visa and the trip covered. Your family can't pay school stuff? Good thing he always has two of everything!

He loves doing your nails, has a full set to make them and does matching designs! He also loves when you put mascara on him, anything that gets him to be close to you.

He's really insecure when it comes to his quirk, always avoiding using it. It takes him some time before he's comfortable showing it to you, always promising to protect you (you always end up taking care of him after he uses his quirk). He spoils you and you take care of him, both loving each other in your own way.

NSFW head canons!

Adult! Aoyama ; Mentions of praise and switchy vibes, mostly cute!

He's touchy and playful, will give you hints that he's feeling hotter in the most teasing ways. Bending over, undoing some buttons on his shirt, brushing his hands over your hips, looking into your eyes and down to your lips so slowly that it pains you to not have his lips on yours already.

There's nothing on earth he likes more than praise, doesn't matter if he's praising you or you're praising him, sweet words will flood around the room with warmth at all times.

His hands never seem to leave your body at all, always seeking being close to you no matter what. French words will come out of his mouth as whispers and whimpers too, lovely and romantic.

He doesn't mind being dom or sub tbh, he won't change much given the cases. He's a soft top, likes to make you feel good for as long as he can, hands trailing down with soft kisses and warm tongue licking everywhere. When he's a bottom, he's very vocal to compensate not taking the lead, always talking about how good you're making him feel and how amazing you are.

He looooves trying new poses, trying to always search for a new way to pleasure you. Never gets upset when a new one doesn't work, he rather laughs at the failed attempt and goes back to a pose you're already comfortable in.

You're a Dom? Oh, boy, he's putty under your touch too! He loves when you pleasure him, doesn't care if you're a little rough, the rest pays up for it. He has a few things to enhance the pleasure of the moment, likes to prepare himself for you, get all pretty for you to see and makes sure the room is ready for your enjoyment.

This is all for the moment, if you want me to go further please let me know! I'm having a bit of a block these days but I'll try my best!!

Natan here! ; want more about Aoyama? Check my Masterlist! ; bye!

[mushroomates]

merry headcanons

as a child, he sincerely believed he could talk to cats. this ended at age 13.

can do cartwheels. pippin cannot. this is brought up in arguments more frequently that imagined

has a filter, contrary to some of what he says. he also acts as pippins filter

possesses an uncanny ability to sniff out weed. can tell the quality of such by smell alone. can also tell you where it may have come from, and how it was grown

has a small patch of cannabis growing in a back room of his estate. it used to be a sunroom but is now a greenhouse/weed lab.

merry religiously documents it’s growth, soil conditions, exposure to light, and most importantly: potentness

unfortunately this has manifested in a very strong but unpleasant tasting plant. this sort is hearty, can grow under any conditions, but really just tastes/smells. absolutely awful.

he did try and recruit sam into helping him until sam realized what was going on and wanted “no business in such a practice”

uses samples saved from the whole Saruman takedown and propagates what he can. also keeps some for comparison. he is very organized with this and has a whole spreadsheet he references frequently

merry also likes to know where everything is at all times. he’s not super weird about it but everything does have its place and he will know if you move it

got into furniture making. makes. questionable, ‘innovative’ ‘contemporary’ and ‘unique’ pieces

in reality it’s because he likes to make chairs that specifically make people want to leave because of how uncomfortable they are

like. he loves his family. but sometimes they get the squeaky chair. there’s a table with one leg slightly smaller than the rest that makes everyone uneasy. a couch that is just too low to the ground and cushy, so that you sink in but your legs are cramped. there’s a chair with the back curved slightly too steep, so when someone sits in it their posture is terrible. it also has a shorter than normal seat so you can’t scoot forward either

it’s not torture. people can endure it. it’s just mean to make sure no one does for very long.

this set is strategically in the foyer, so if he likes you well enough you’re granted entity into the living room with normal furniture. which is very tastefully decorated and has framed artwork of his many nieces and nephews.

he absolutely adores the littlest members of the shire and will spoil them however he can

draws maps of the most absurd things. just. maps that no one even asked for but are delightfully absurd

“directions to bagend, avoiding all dogs, aunts, sheep and red mail boxes” “brandybuck estate, but only the trees” “every pub in the shire, and who to avoid on your way back from a good time”

and, famously, “pippins brain”

this is a circle, and in it, two singular dots

one saying “pipe weed” and the other “bad ideas”

there use to be a third dot, that said “lack of cart wheels” but that has been a angerly scribbled out (culprit is still a ‘mystery’ )

decent navigational skills

of course, no one listens to him.

judges the annual pie contest

is actually. really good at it. has a very defined palette dispute the copious amount of weed he smokes

“is that rubarb? it adds a wonderful complexity to the strawberry and pistachio- though, i’d recommend not using molasses next time instead try brown sugar.”

like. merry. why do you know these things.

also judges the pie EATING contest. this is because there is a scandalous amount of cheating and he was part of a huge pie-in-the-trousers bust and now sits in the jury as an esteemed member

pippin thinks he’s a traitor to the cause. this is because pippin was a primary perpetrator in said pie-in-the-trousers bust.

has two pet rabbits. by pets i mean fellow members of the “raiding farmer maggots crops” club, who he saved from a few rodent traps and took home

merrys morals, to recap, does not allow him to permit pie-crimes, but he is totally okay with casual thievery

did not have the heart to said rabbits as they were cut from the same cloth. he let them out the back yard once he got home and they just. kind of. stayed

their names are gandalf and gandalf because ones gray and ones white. many hobbits have been taking after that and also naming their animals gandalf. this of course pisses gandalf off to no end.

is a great babysitter. mature enough to not get into trouble but still has a childish sense of adventure, and lots of stories

he is the trusted fun uncle. pippin being the reckless fun uncle.

he acts stories out more than tells them to the kids, as his way with words is not so great as his way with sound effects.

also makes his own sock puppets and will occasionally put on small shows for the kiddos during family gatherings. fan favorites are “merry takes down the witch-king” “the march of the ents” and “the hobbit who couldn’t cartwheel” (the last ends with the hobbit simply learns to accept that everyone has different talents- something not true to life because pippin still hasn’t accepted this)

is high key very smart. doesn’t do a lot with this. he prefers to enjoy the simple things in life, and has found that so long as he makes sure he and his are looked after, life can be very easy.

that being said. he is not as care free as he’d like to be

is very prepared and well organized. has rations for days and a go-bag, even in his later years. everyone mocked him for years but it took him maybe ten minutes to grab everything and join up with frodo and sam. he also has extra go-bags, which is why it only took pippin 15 minutes (an extra five because pippin lost his bag about two seconds after merry gave it to him)

merry got the “anxiety” hobbit gene that manifests in being (only slightly) a prepper. there’s cans of beans and fruit as well as bottled water hidden in the cellar of the brandy-buck estate. enough food to last nearly five years, but for a hobbit, three.

this gives him peace of mind, as he knows he is prepared for whatever life gives him

he also knows he has braved many things before and anything that may come now will be significantly less of a hardship

he will never have to face down another witch-king, or more importantly, go without second breakfast

[msmpictures]

[☬ Ramshackle O.C ☬]

•{☬Basic Data☬}•

[ Name ]

Astrid Voldemort

Storm > Work's Pseudonym

[ Age | Birthday ]

23 - 27 | October 1st

[ Family ]

Robert Voldemort - Father

??? - Step Mother

[ Job ]

Hired murderer.

[ S.O ]

???

[ More detail of the wound ]

Second degree burn | Cuts = Enucleation (Eye removal).

•{☬ Likes - Dis. ☬}•

[ Likes ]

• To sleep [her only one 'escape']

• To draw [In her days of rest, she draws her father to remember him, even if she is not a very good artist] Although she doesn't show anyone her drawings.

• To smoke

• 💐 [She can describe them as the rainbow of her grey, so that relaxes her a bit]

• ☕ [She is addict at the coffe]

• To stare at the stars [ that makes her forget her shit of job for a while ]

• Children [Doesn't show it, but she really likes children.]

• Rural spaces [That relaxes her]

• 'Acid Candies' [I hope you understand what I mean] Although, she doesn't eat them often.

• Boxing [Is not really something that she likes, but she practices boxing often]

• Agriculture (frustrated dream)

[ Dislikes - Hates ]

• [H] HeR bOsS

• [D] To socialize [She can't actually do it, Astrid just talks with the people when it's about the business and when it's her next victim, so it's kinda awkward for her to get a conversation for more than 30 minutes]

• [H] Her own job [ She is forced to do it, she has no other choice. ]

• [D] Alcoholic drinks [ She says that tastes horrible ]

• [D] Her work partners

• [H] Did I say her Boss?

• [H] Her step mother [She is the reason why Astrid is here]

•{☬ Origins ☬}•

Warning: so long xd

( I don't wanna write a shit but this is how u could sorta understand x,d )

- Astrid Lived with her father in the Ramshackle Streets. Robert was a miner, so they were low class, despite that, they always had enough to survive without ever starving.

- She didn't care about her economic status, since she was working by selling lemonade (as a lil child) and saving her cash to buy a little house In the countryside. Besides, her father always loved her, there was nothing that someone could consider a problem between them.

- Although, Robert couldn't help but feel lonely, so he decided to look for a new lover. A woman who appeared in their life, when Astrid was about to 14.

- The woman was an alcoholic one, always spending the cash into whims and useless things, she was kinda aggressive alone and because of that never had a good relationship with Astrid, but Robert never knew about the circumstances, so he didn't do anything.

- Since the woman appeared, The small family began to have debts, so both Robert and Astrid had to work twice as hard, which did not prevent the debts from increasing drastically, in just two years. For this reason Robert decided to go with a 'friend' (who was a member of a criminal association), to request loans with the condition of paying later, but it never happened.

- This 'friend' He decided to collect everything Robert owed, and as a result of having empty pockets, he kidnapped Astrid (she was 16).

- At first they planned to use her as bait to get the money and then kill her, But after pleas from the minor, they decided to recruit her at a low level, as a kind of servant for anything basic, even burying corpses that they eliminated.

- All this in order to be the one to pay Robert's debts. But it would take a long period of time until now.

- As she grew older, the members began to promote Astrid's position, from making her infiltrate meetings to extract information to turning her into a hitman, having to sell this service to others, In order to recover the lost money.

- The rest, is History..

[⛈️] = Sometimes, she pretends to be mute, so she doesn't need to talk with anyone [That's until she finally she likes u]

•{☬Additional Data☬}•

[🌪️] = The grey hairs are sign of her stress x,d

[🌪️] = She could know everything about weapons and how to play them, but she doesn't know how to cook.

[⛈️] = I don't know what to add about her biological mother.. I'll say she divorced Robert and he won the custody of Astrid 👌.

[🌪️] = Astrid just knows Vinnie, and that because she tried to steal her and found a gun in her purse. (In that moment, Astrid was infiltrated, Vinnie too)

[⛈️] = They're not so close friends, but they help each other sometimes. Either to get information or to get beans.

[🌪️] = Once she finished paying the debts, she will go away from Ramshackle, and live her dreamed life in a house in a rural space.

[⛈️] = Astrid doesn't tell her affection with words. She does it with flowers. If she gives you a daisy, she considers you as her family. If she gives you a rose, she loves you <3.

[🌪️] = She is the kind of person who doesn't understand the jokes. She doesn't have a sense of humour. (She tries man, she tries 😞)

[⛈️] = In an attempt to kill A drunk scammer, this one stroke her with a vodka bottle in her face, and as she failed on the floor, he tried to let her blind, burning her face with a lighter.

[🌪️] = Robert doesn't know if Astrid is still alive, but he is still trying to report her missing, no matter what.

[⛈️] = I could tell she is depressed, and because of that she eats the acid candies. I thought, as Stone with Pebble, she could have an 'interior Demon', with a similar appearance to her 14-year-old self. Despite that, I can't find a name for her..

The whole pic

THREE DAYS DOING THIS SHIT I GIVE UP

[the-broken-truth]

The One She Left Behind - Platonic Yandere Sevika w/ Biological Son Reader [1]

Broken (Looking at a HexTech Crystal in my claws): I looked around and it said that Sevika is between 30 and 40. Based on this information, She got pregnant at 20 and abandoned the child with its father. Now, at her current age, she is in the Last Drop when she sees a face she never thought she would see again. Now, let the words weave together. Also, sorry I was gone for a while - I just needed a break.

[The Last Drop]

This was the life Sevika lived - Fighting, Drinking, Playing Cards, and being the Right Hand of the Eye of Zaun himself with the pay she was getting; she was living the good life, well, as good as life could be in the Undercity. She was currently in the Last Drop - a bar in Silco's Territory - in her usual booth with a cigar in her hand while she was playing cards with some other grunts on Silco's Payroll. Thieram was quick to make Sevika's drink before bringing it to her while she kicked ass in cards - she was living the good life...but there were sometimes when she thought about the life she had before Silco. Sevika blew smoke out of her mouth as she thought about the life she left behind and the life she left behind, not her life, but the life she created with the man she once loved.

"Sevika, you can't be serious. You're going to leave me? Leave us? To work for the Eye of Zaun?! Don't you know how dangerous he is and the company he keeps? You're willing to abandon everything we created for him?!" The Dark Skinned Zaunite Male yelled at Sevika's back as he held the crying bundle in his arms.

"I told you - this isn't the life I want. I want adventure, power, and money, and working for Silco will give me everything I am looking for. Just keep that kid far away from me and have a good life without me." Sevika said as she started walking away with her hands in her pockets while listening to the man she once loved shushing the infant.

"Don't cry, my son. Father is going to take care of you from now on - you won't be alone ever again and I'll make sure you aren't tainted by that life. I won't let Sevika taint you." The Zaunite said as he held the infant close to his face and hugged him, placing his nose on the infant's forehead, and giving him a gentle kiss on his forehead to quiet him. That was the last time she saw them and she never looked back.

Sometimes, Sevika would think back to that night - she wouldn't think about the man she once loved but she did think about her son: Was he still alive? What did he look like? Was he healthy? What did he do now? Did his father raise him properly? Sevika would walk down the street while running errands for Silco and see children running down the streets of Zaun and see them with their parents, she couldn't help but wonder how her life would have been if she kept her son, raised him into being a Son of Zaun. Sevika would push the thoughts down before continuing on her path.

The sound of the door opening pulled Sevika out of her thoughts and watched as a tall figure walked in with a leather satchel over their shoulder, a brown cloth cloak with their hood up, and from what Sevika could see, black pants with black leather boots - all in rather good condition; where did they get those items? The material was from Zaun but it looked so good that she thought it could come from Piltover. Sevika watched the stranger walk into the center of the bar before pulling the hood off their head and Sevika's eyes widened: The stranger was male, with dark skin, short dark brown hair, and calm brown eyes. He had a scar over his eyebrow but he looked just like her former loving but with her eyes - was he...

"[Name], you're here." Thieram said as he walked from around the counter and walked over to the tall male who smiled at him before opening the satchel and pulling out a box before handing it to Thieram.

"Sorry for being late, I had to make sure all the systems worked perfectly and wouldn't overheat after hours of usage." The taller male - [Name] - said before handing the box to Thieram who smiled, took the box before reaching into his pocket, and pulled out a small sack of Silver Cogs and handing it to [Name], who looked in the sack before closing it, pocketed the sack and shook hands with Thieram.

"How's your father?" Thieram asked as he tucked the box under his arm.

"Father is doing better than he was last week, he's still a little stressed but his blood pressure is going down. I'm having him relax more while I run errands." [Name] explained before he pulled his hood over his head, "I'll see you later, Thieram." He said before he turned on his heel and walked away, opening the door and walking out of the Last Drop. Sevika watched the male before getting up from her chair and followed after him.

Sevika looked at the flowing cloak of the young man before walking up to him, stopping a few feet away when he stopped walking and took a deep exhale before turning to face Sevika.

"Is there a reason you are following me?" [Name] asked as he pulled the hood off his head again and glared at Sevika with his brown eyes - eyes that matched her own when she was angered; he was a perfect reflection of her, just as the opposite gender.

"I noticed you in the Last Drop. You said your name was [Name], correct?" Sevika asked.

"What business is it of yours?" [Name] raised an eyebrow. That attitude - just like hers when she was his age.

"Tell me, [Name], who is your father?" Sevika asked. [Name] scoffed at Sevika, causing her to raise her eyebrow higher.

"Don't ask dumb questions that you already know the answer to, Sevika. You know my father because you abandoned him years ago, you know who I am and that's why you followed me out of the Last Drop. Why don't you go back with those drunks and return to playing cards?" [Name] suggested.

"You shouldn't speak to your mother like that." Sevika really went there - she played that card - making [Name] bear his teeth, surprisingly he had perfect fangs.

"You don't have the right o youse that title. You are no mother, you are a deserter, a betrayer, and a whore. I want nothing to do with you, so stay the hell away from me or I'm going to break you." [Name] snarled before turning on his heel and marched down the street while Sevika stood there with wide eyes and a smirk on her face. Her son was no pushover - speaking to the Right Hand of the Eye of Zaun like that. It was good to see he inherited her strong spirit but she wondered what else he inherited from her. She was going to have to find out in the coming days, but first, she needed to find out where he lived.

'Time for an investigation.' Sevika thought as she turned on her heel and returned to the Last Drop.

[To Be Continued In 2]