#mole in the server

[toby-du-coeur]

tmr? did you mean tmr [mole runner]

folks i think it's time for the au where moles show up* & dig secret tunnels under the Maze, allowing the Gladers to take over wckd & escape

*with teresa instead of the serum? somebody on the outside plants them and they dig through to the glade? in the Box? chuck requests them as pets & some drunk overworked wckd scientist sends em up? there are so many possibilities

[m-0-ths]

I'm in my cringe but free era (his name is Dicy)

[itsmergb]

The Moles

The Moles are dedicated to keeping a look out for those who might be catching on to what the museum's true intentions are, so that they can 'make use of them'. They come with two sub-roles; Observers and Conveyers.

Young, old, employee, visitor - Observers can be anyone, they're only here to keep a closer eye on visitors who could be getting too nosey. Their masks remain off if they're acting as a visitor, unless they're one of the Jack Rabbits.

If a person/s starts to show signs of being aware of the cult, they'll inform the Conveyers for further investigation.

Conveyers may often take on the role of Observers when there is a lack of ones active - but frankly, their main job is to write reports. They work closely with Observers to deeply study people and things of interest, documenting any useful information on them and passing them on to their superiors, earning them the title of 'Moles'. They will deep dive not only into the history of persons of interest, but also information on other organizations that could be detrimental to the museum.

They sometimes are requested to dig into information on persons targeted by Recruiters for usage. If they decide someone knows too much, they'll inform the Silencers to take care of them.

I love looking at this freak of a… freak.

[bitchmanfishboy]

Hello tumblr I have an interest in moles I heard you guys were doing a bit

[pnjrnk]

lmao sorry i gave up on k2 week, at least i did some of the days? this is how far i got on day 6 and i didnt even do day 7 lol (i might do it later idk)

it was fun tho!! i hope it happens next year. yall really liked the historical au i did, maybe ill do more of that 👀

anyways here is the most anticipated drawing of my tumblr career

furry gregstophe 😎 complete with bone cigarette because i am hilarious

[chiefweasel]

I have headcanons for how the characters act on Halloween- a lot of these come from my good friend and fellow actor in the play, she doesn't have a tumblr but she is in our Weasel Hall discord server.

Badger - Doesn't go Trick or Treating, hands out candy instead

Mole - Dresses up as the basic Halloween costumes [vampire, Frankenstein's monster, etc], doesn't like being scared, likes the treats more than the tricks

Ratty - Often helps Badger hand out candy, sometimes goes Trick or Treating with Mole

Toad - Takes more than one candy from the bowls that say "take one", loves spooking people

Mrs Otter and Portia - Portia wants to go Trick or Treating alone, but Mrs Otter always goes with her so she doesn't lose her again, especially during the nighttime

Lesser and Chief pull shitty pranks on people, egg and/or TP Toad Hall, and take 2-3 candies from the take one bowl

Lesser somehow accidentally eggs and/or TPs Chief

Sheryl accidentally makes a kid cry

A kid in a somewhat scary costume accidentally makes Lesser cry

Lesser hates Halloween but pretends not to be scared because the Wild Wooders would tease him forever (they all already know- he isn't good at hiding it)

Also, Toad, Mole, and Ratty would go to a haunted house

Toad would get scared and scream "RATTY, HOLD ME"

Toad would scream and them Mole would scream and then Toad would scream louder

At the end Toad would act like he wasn't scared

"You should have seen your faces!"

"You literally said, and I quote, 'RATTY, HOLD ME'"

". . . That was one of the ghosts possessing me!"

And then they arrive back to Badger's place and it's like "Why are Mole and Toad shaking?"

Mole doesn't hide his fear but Toad does and is doing it horribly

Mole finds out Lesser hates Halloween and they spend some time watching Corpse Bride or The Nightmare Before Christmas

The guy with the car sets out the "take one" bowls

And watches in misery as people take more than one

The hedgehogs wear family costumes

[christophehasnosanity]

(OOC)

So I was wondering if I were to make a discord server if I get popular would you join?

[r3d1ke]

So a collection

What the

[slimeygoopp]

shes a little french unicorn animal hybrid thingamajig

[twstfanblog]

(Reblog for the new event on EN servers!)

*At the Glorious Masquerade*

🎯: *Staring at Yuu's boobs*

🐍: Excuse you!?

🐙: Hey! No ogling without proper payment!

🎯: The mole is new, mon trickster!

🐍: Why do you know that?

🔪: I used my eyeliner to add a tasteful beauty mark.

🐲: How delightful. You've decorated your bosom for the festivities.

🔪: Wanted the girls to look nice.

(Rollo) 🔔: *Struggling to not look*

[moongreenlight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley who despite his better judgement lets Soap talk him into picking up a girl for the night.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Apparently Soap knows a guy who knows a guy in the area they’re deployed. They’d been staying at some shithole inn in France for weeks. Driving into the city to stake out some mark day in and day out. Tedious, mind-numbing work. Sitting at cafes and on patios at pubs people watching. Looking for anyone that may or may not match the vague description that had been provided by some mole on the other side.

Simon could sit still and shut up. Johnny was a separate issue. He could dial in for a few hours at a time, but then he’d start to slip. Bored and antsy, he’d try and strike up conversation. Inevitably returning to what must have been his favorite topic, or the one thing plaguing his mind the most. He’s horny. Fucking hell, is he horny.

Bitching and whining about not being able to get any play here because he doesn’t speak a lick of French and even when he tries it comes out so muddied that nobody takes him seriously. And that the inn they’re set up at is years away from town. Paints him out to be a serial killer.

Simon would grind his teeth and endure yet another one-sided talk about how bored Johnny had been getting of his hand. Even the left one wasn’t doing the trick anymore. He’d resorted to calling in some favors he was apparently owed to get the help of some girls in his evenings off.

“Jesus. Lookit the legs on her.”

Johnny had almost fallen out of his chair swiveling his entire body to watch some girl in a short skirt and a long trench coat stride past their spot outside of a cafe.

“Mhm.”

Simon was in a better spot to watch her pass. Eyeing her frame from over the rim of his steaming mug of tea. Fucking dreadful day. Drizzling rain. Bordering on sleet because of how miserable the weather was. Cloudy with a breeze that felt bitterly cold even through his coat. Shit tea, too. He couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander.

Not like they’d made any progress. Not like they could make any progress being staked out on a side street with no traffic whatsoever. The girl had been the only person other than their server that they’d seen come by in the last half hour. And sure, she had good legs. Better than their server’s at least. Some cranky older woman who’d ignored his attempts to order in French and looked mugged off that she had to deal with them at all, especially sat outside in this weather.

“Hell’s bells. Almost forgot you had a brain in there somewhere.”

Johnny, of course, couldn’t resist making a dig.

“Don’t get carried away.”

Simon grunted.

“Naw. C’mon, L.T. You like girls? They’ve got girls.”

Should have predicted that he was going to run wild with this.

“M’warnin’ you.”

“Loads of girls. Fuckin’ customizable. Send you a preference sheet and everything. Real professional operation.”

Johnny snickered into his paper coffee cup. Given to him along with a nasty look when he’d fidgeted with the ceramic mug he’d first had a bit too much and sent it smashing into the pavement.

Simon wasn’t one to be jerked around cock-first like Johnny, but Jesus. He was wearing thin. Maybe the isolation was getting to him. Maybe a seed had been planted somewhere deep in his mind from Johnny’s moaning. Not to mention, it was impossible to get it up watching French cable porn on a twin bed. He was backed-up and pissed off with the work. And with no end in sight, it could push a man to do strange things.

He shifted his hips forward in his seat, taking a long drink of his tea as he scanned the empty street for the umteenth time.

“Haven’t used up all your favors?”

You would have thought he’d just backhanded Johnny the way his eyes bugged out of his head.

“Gie’s a break.”

“Jus’ a question.”

Simon shrugged, sighing like he was already regretting asking. He was.

“Don’t work me up over nothin’, L.T.”

Johnny grinned, waggling his brows and leaning his forearms onto the table. Now completely distracted from the task at hand.

“Johnny.”

“Sure I could work somethin’ out. Only ‘cause I’m feelin’ generous. Ken yer a’right owing me a favor?”

Simon snorted.

“Sure I can manage.”

Johnny’s eyes were glinting something awful. More lively than he’d been in days. Practically laying over the table and kicking his feet. Thrilled to finally have the means to something Simon wanted.

“We’ll see about that’.”

Conversation moved on. Dragged back to the mission with instruction to change location. They spent a full ten hours out in the rain and the cold and the grey for absolutely no payout. Again. Still at square goddamn one. It was arguably worse than combat. Least on a real mission he’d get some release.

Johnny had stepped away in the early evening to make a call. Just before they were tapped out by Price and Gaz. Likely cashing in his favors owed, because he came back with a smug smile and two pints. Saying something about how Simon needed to quit taking himself so seriously. All work and no play or some stupid shit to that tune. Made a comment in passing on their drive back to the inn about how he should get his quarters decent by nine.

Honestly, Simon wasn’t expecting much. It was a bit of a ridiculous concept to him to begin with. He’d regretted saying anything straight after the words had left his mouth. He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to entertain some two-bit whore, even if she just served to curb his boredom. He never sought out things like this. Never felt the need. He wasn’t like Johnny or Gaz where he had to sneak off during missions for a wank or a quick fuck when time allowed. Not like Price where he’d seek a willing nurse or secretary to grope or bend over his desk on a day off. Sure, he’d take the opportunity if it arose, but he was always more focused on the job while he was at work rather than chasing his next high.

And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken anyone home. Fucked into his hand as much was necessary to keep everything operational. Knew when it was time when he started lashing out on a hairpin trigger. Got lazy on missions. Lost one too many sparring matches during training because he couldn’t focus.

So when nine came and went, he just found himself agitated that he’d requested the woman at the front desk change the sheets on his bed again so late. Ducking out to the balcony for a cigarette when she came in and slipping her a few euros on her way out despite the way her lip curled distastefully. Fucking frogs.

He was sat on the armchair in the corner of his room. Halfway paying attention to whatever channel was on the TV across from him and nursing a tumbler of shit whiskey he’d picked up from the shops their first night in. Swapped his mission clothes for a black tee shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. Tugging his balaclava over his face out of pure habit. Strictly instructed not to wear it out for the sake of keeping a low profile. Though he wasn’t sure how much good that did. He stood out from the crowd with his scars and crooked nose and tattoos without the covering. Whatever. Wardrobe wasn’t his job for a reason he supposed.

The sharp knock on his door grated heavily on his last nerve. Eliciting a low growl, but no movement to answer. It was half ten at this point. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Probably just another group of teenagers lost on their way to a friend’s room.

Another knock, and this time it didn’t stop. A muffled giggle through the door.

“Jesus Christ.”

He grumbled, shoving up and striding over to the door. Jerking the door open and using his hulking frame to cover the small opening he allowed.

Johnny’s fist nearly collided with Simon’s jaw. Distracted by the two girls stood behind him in the hall, giggling at him and batting their lashes. He was grinning like a goddamned devil. Chest puffed-out, shoulders rolled back. Entirely too comfortable.

Simon cocked a brow, giving the group a scornful once-over.

“Aye, L.T.! I come bearing gifts.”

Simon’s brow shot up further, eyes flicking from his friend to each of the girls behind him. Johnny immediately caught on to his confusion and barked a laugh, slinging his arm around the shoulder of the girl on the left. She sunk comfortably into position, leaning into him and giggling like it had been rehearsed.

She was pretty. Both of the girls were. The one tucked under Johnny’s arm had long auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders. Bright green eyes. Great smile. Perfectly groomed. Both of them covered conservatively by long coats to protect from the rain that had gradually started to come down harder and colder through the day. Hard to tell they were hooking by looking at them.

They seemed more familiar with Johnny than what Simon could assume was normal. It made his stomach turn if he thought too much into it, so he didn’t. Instead he side stepped, allowing the second girl barely enough room to slip through the door, and jerked his head for her to move.

“S’pose I know better than to expect a thank you.”

Johnny grinned, entirely unbothered by Simon’s glare that was boring through his skull. Arm already wandering down the auburn haired girl’s back at an alarming speed.

“Not as dim as you look, Sargent.”

Simon sighed, snapping the door shut.

“You’re late.”

He said flatly before he’d even finished locking the door. Turning to face the girl who’d already made herself comfortable on the edge of his bed. Leaned back on her hands, flashing him a dazzling smile.

“Throwing off your schedule, am I?”

You said, voice dripping with honeyed sarcasm. This made Simon recoil slightly. He’d been expecting some trashy, mildly-disgusting woman to come stumbling through the door when Johnny had mentioned he was cashing in favors. Not you. Not by a long shot. You looked, for lack of a better word, spoiled. Expensive. Perfectly styled, glossy hair. A tasteful amount of makeup. Not so much that it marred your features, but enough to make you nearly unapproachably attractive. And relatively covered-up. Expensive looking fur-trimmed coat falling just above your ankle.

Noticeable lack of a French accent. And you weren’t cowering in his presence, which suggested that you’d dealt with worse than him. A thought that sent something strange down his spine. Jealousy maybe? Anger? Sympathy? He wasn’t in the mood to dig further into that.

He crossed the room, lowering himself back into the armchair he’d been stationed in before his night was interrupted.

“You’re an hour and a half late.”

His tone was clipped. His eyes cold and hard. Fixed directly on you in an almost invasive kind of eye-contact. He jerked up his balaclava to his nose to take a deep drink from his glass. Studying you from over the rim. Killing the contents and setting it back on the side table with a soft thud.

You pursed your lips for a fraction of a second, standing from the corner of the bed and pacing across the small room to stand in front of him. Threatening to encroach on his personal space. Smiling tightly in a way that seemed to come with a practiced nonchalance. That same feeling settled in the center of his stomach.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I got caught up.”

Your soft, sweet tone did nothing to tame his irritation.

“They couldn’t even send a professional?”

He shot back tersely, folding his arms over his chest. You cocked your head slightly to the side. A fraction of genuine humor peeking through your smile.

“Plenty professional.”

You shrugged, letting the comment roll off of you. Water off a duck’s back. It irritated Simon to no end and he couldn’t pinpoint why. Trying to settle his mind by watching the way your perfectly manicured fingers began to work on slowly undoing the buttons of your coat with careful attention.

He snorted, tugging his balaclava back down over his jaw.

“That your thing, then?”

You gestured to his face covering. Shrugging off your coat to reveal a fucking scrap of a dress. Much more in-line with what he’d imagined a hooker to wear. A tiny, black, strapless thing that hugged your curves like it had been sewn directly onto you. Black lace garter pulled high on your thigh. Knee-height black boots that must have made you four inches taller than you were.

He cocked a brow, tapping a finger on the arm of his chair.

“Somethin’ like that.”

You cracked a true smile at that. Folding your coat neatly in your arms before setting it on the beat-up dresser to his right. Returning attentively to your spot in front of him.

He stiffened. Already perfect posture becoming rigid to the point of snapping. Keeping his hands firmly planted on either arm of the chair. Narrowing his eyes as he looked over your face in much closer detail.

“It’s late.”

Was all he managed. Voice rough as ever.

“And?”

You tilted your head like a confused dog.

“And you were an hour and a half late. It’s late.”

He shot back dryly. Nails digging into the chair.

“Let me make it up to you.“

You sank to your knees just between his legs surprisingly gracefully given how tight your dress was. Falling delicately onto the disgusting carpet. Faded and torn and fraying. Scratching at your bare knees. Didn’t even pull a face. Conditioned to understand that this was normal. Trained to grin and bear it. Another stone added to the weight anchoring him to his seat.

It was horribly cliche. Such a painfully tacky line, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth; so he shifted his hips forward and allowed your slender fingers to dance up his thighs and dip under the waistband of his sweatpants. Aided you in tugging them down to his ankles. Grit his teeth together when you began palming him through his underwear. Trying not to catch your eyes that were fixed up on him. Trying to push the nagging voice in the back of his mind away. Reminding him of just how dirty this was. Made him feel fucking pathetic. Calling in the aid of a hooker like he couldn’t bed a girl himself.

And the worst part. The part that brought up the most self-loathing; was how fucking fast the blood was racing to his cock under your touch. How much he truly enjoyed seeing you knelt down and blinking up at him with a look that could have been confused for adoration. Maybe you were a professional.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose when you finally sprung his aching cock free from his boxers. Forcing his head back to avoid your gaze. Pressing it hard against the wall to the point of giving himself a headache. Scarring the soft wood of the chair’s arms with his nails when you licked a hot stripe from his base to the tip.

All of his guilt and knotted up emotions seemed to dissolve themselves at least partially when you wrapped your lips around him. He’d almost forgotten just how warm a mouth was. Infinitely better than his hand. Jesus, was it.

He kept his hands to himself. Not needing to guide you like he had so many others. Tried to let himself relax under the feeling of your hand gripping his base and your mouth working his tip. And he nearly did get swept away when you removed your hand and tried to force his stiff cock to the back of your throat. Allowing you to work at choking and gagging around him for longer than was probably polite. But again, he just found himself irritated. Edging himself out of pure goddamn accident because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force himself from his mind.

He couldn’t understand why you were such a sticking point to him. He’d had one night stands before. Hell, that’s all he’d had. Never cared much about the quality or condition or history of the girls he slept with. Maybe he had a savior complex he was too stubborn to admit to. Maybe his mind had been so warped and addled over the years that he formed some kind of baseless connection with you for God knew what reason. He just couldn’t fucking stop thinking about you.

He would have liked to. Would have liked to screw his eyes shut and focus on how good you felt wrapped around him. Mouth hot and wet. Wanted to focus on the ecstasy of your throat struggling to fit him. Listen to your soft, choked whines. Let himself pretend you were no different to the others he’d bedded before, but it was fruitless. He made a low sound, a growl that lodged itself somewhere in his chest, before taking your jaw in his hand and pulling you off of him. Cock still throbbing like it had its own heartbeat.

“You need to go.”

He made the mistake of glancing down. Saw the way your perfect makeup had begun smearing around your eyes and down your cheeks just barely. Big eyes rimmed with tears. Nose running, chin and lips glistening. Slick from your own spit. It nearly pushed him over the edge, but he knew inevitably he was prolonging his own torture.

“What?”

Your voice was hoarse because of how much strain your throat had been under. Softer than it had been. Less confident. You looked almost hurt. Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand and sniffing softly. Jaw held fixed in his hand.

“You need to go.”

He repeated, firmer this time. Sucking his teeth. Trying to ignore the way your gentle panting cooled the shining trails of spit running down his shaft and sent a chill up his spine.

Your face twisted in confusion, mouth falling open. Leaning back on your haunches to look him over like he’d suddenly grown another head.

“Is it not good?”

He groaned softly, finally letting go of your head. Not realizing just how much effort it had taken for him to pull you off until he saw the small red marks decorating the delicate skin of your jaw.

“S’fine.”

“Fine?”

You looked properly offended. A little confused. Like this had never happened before- and it probably hadn’t. Of course he’d be the one to stain your perfect record. Of course he’d be the one to warp your pretty face like that. Drove him up the fucking wall.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Now he was backed-up, pissed off, and you wouldn’t leave as easily as he would’ve liked. If he was lucky, he’d still have half a hard-on by the time he got you out the door. Maybe coax out a less than satisfying orgasm that would at least put him to sleep.

“Gave myself lockjaw for fine?”

You spoke again, those same nimble fingers now gently massaging the hinge of your jaw. He tried to avoid looking at the way your dress bunched around your hips and revealed your panties. Black lace that matched the garter on your thigh.

“It’s late.”

He huffed a sigh. Leaning down to fumble in his sweatpants pocket for a cigarette and a lighter. Needing anything else to focus on. It brought him nearly nose to nose with you. Not realizing until he flicked his eyes up. And you didn’t recoil. Sat there half glaring at him, the tip of your nose almost brushing his through the balaclava. You were pretty even this close. Probably more so.

“You’ve said.”

You shot back cooly, brows knit together.

“Have I?”

He pulled back up, hooking his mask up over his nose once more and sticking the cigarette between his teeth.

“Few times.”

You looked wholly unamused. He flicked his lighter open. Lighting the tip and taking a deep drag.

“Meant it a few times.”

He shrugged, speaking through his exhale. Turning his chin up and away from you so the curling smoke didn’t wash over you.

You snorted, pushing up to your feet, putting your hands on your hips and giving him a once-over.

“You’re seriously asking me to leave?”

His teeth sunk into the butt of the cigarette just a fraction too hard. He felt the crunch of the filter bending under the force.

“S’not you, it’s me.”

He offered. A wisp of a dry smile tugging momentarily at the corner of his lips. This earned another smile from you. He caught it even through the way you chewed the inside of your cheek.

“You married?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He almost choked on the cloud of smoke he’d been drawing in.

“No.”

His voice was harsh. Like a string pulled taught to the point of snapping.

“So what is it? You don’t like me?”

You shifted your weight a bit, but he could tell it wasn’t because you were uncomfortable. You still held yourself confidently. Shoulders rolled back, posture straight but not stiff.

“Bloody hell.”

He groaned, rubbing his brow.

“Is that it, then?”

You prodded further.

“No.”

You seemed thoroughly dissatisfied with his answers. But he didn’t know what else he could say. You seemed fine. Pretty girl. Got him closer to an orgasm than he’d come in weeks. He just couldn’t get over the fact that you were hired out to do this. Made him feel too dirty. That and he’d already looked too far into the situation. You seemed like you’d been doing this longer than anyone should have to. Strangely enough he felt some obligation to protect you. Wanted to pull you away from whatever situation that had pushed you to this.

“So what’s the hang up?”

You huffed a sigh.

“Don’t usually do this.”

He grunted out, resigning to the fact that he’d have to drink himself to sleep at this point. Leaning down to jerk his sweatpants back up his legs.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You snarked back. He snorted a humorless chuckle from around the cigarette.

“Nothin’ against you.”

“Yeah, alright.”

You shook your head, a small smile curving your mouth. A mix of confusion and amusement. Like you couldn’t believe that this was really happening.

“I’m not in the business of I.O.U’s.”

You said, looking over your shoulder while you walked over to grab your coat from the dresser.

“S’at so?”

He ashed his cigarette into his empty glass. Trying not to snort when you flashed him a sour look.

“You’re sure? I’m supposed to be here all night.”

You were already fastening the buttons on your coat. Glancing past him to the window on the back wall of the small room. The curtains were drawn, but through the backlight of the street lamps outside you could see rain streaking the glass.

“Mhm”

He hummed his answer. Silently grateful that you were finally moving toward leaving. Least he’d be able to get a few hours of shut eye before having to go back out tomorrow. Hopefully sleep off the guilt and the slightly sick feeling that’d settled itself over him.

You left a few minutes later. After making absolutely certain he was sure. Then it was ‘cheers’ and he was dead bolting the door. He got a fresh glass and downed the rest of the bottle of whiskey. Not enough to even get him tipsy, but enough to lull him into a dreamless sleep for the few hours he allowed himself.

He should have been expecting that Johnny would give him a fucking earful in the days following. You must’ve said something to the auburn haired girl and it got around. Wouldn’t shut up about it. Gave him shit like he was getting paid to do it. Couldn’t believe that he’d pass up an opportunity like that.

They got shipped back to base about a week later. Simon was thankful for the short break. Slowly working on forgetting the entire mission. The whole ordeal with you. Focused his efforts on training and filling out the endless towers of paperwork that’d gathered on the edge of his desk in his absence.

And then it was months later. And he’d made good progress on forgetting France. Mission was a bust. Wasted time and money and effort for no payout. Turns out their mark had been in Germany the entire time. Tipped off that they were on the lookout for him. Johnny slowly stopped his teasing. Only occasionally bringing it up when Simon dismissed the efforts of an overly eager private. Things went back to normal.

After getting intel on a new assignment, Price had urged the boys to get together at some pub by base for drinks on him. Chat about next steps and do some more of the team bonding he was so keen on. Simon grudgingly obliged. The bar was full of people seeing as it was a Friday, so he was content people-watching and grunting a few words when prompted. Decent way to kill a few hours.

He’d excused himself to go outside for a smoke, pushing through the crowd until he finally reached the side alley next to the pub. Taking a few long moments to work his way through a cigarette and let his head stop pounding from the noise of the inside. He wasn’t focused on anything in particular, at least not until he heard some shouting on the street.

He furrowed his brow slightly, pushing off the brick he’d been leaned against and sidling out to see what was going on. Not usually interested in the commotion, but moving out of some deep-rooted obligation to supervise a situation.

He saw a car with dark tinted windows rolling slowly down the road. The driver leaning half-out his window and shouting something over to a girl who was walking by herself down the sidewalk. Her back was to Simon, but he could tell by how stiff she was that this wasn’t a friendly exchange.

He groaned under his breath, taking a moment to debate on if he should get involved before flicking his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his heel. Starting down the street toward the girl.

It didn’t take him long to close the distance between them. The girl was walking slowly, he could see the way her head was on a swivel, searching for an escape. The driver of the car was shouting something crass at her and she was making a point of not engaging.

“Alright?”

He called out through the dim street, rolling his shoulders back and tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. Puffing out his chest slightly in case his sheer size alone wasn’t enough to impress.

The driver faltered slightly, the girl did not stop to look back.

“Yeah, mate. Cheers.”

The man called back, trying to sound casual. Simon grunted and nodded, staying as friendly as he could. Moving a little closer to the curb to shield the girl from view. Thankfully, this was all the interaction the driver seemed to need to get the hint. Pulling off without much more prompting.

The girl’s posture immediately relaxed. Shoulders dropped, slowing her gait to a stop.

“Thanks. I owe you-“

Her voice cut off like someone had pressed mute when she turned to face Simon. He was stunned. Fucking shocked to see your face. This had to be some cruel trick played on him by the universe.

You looked great. Better than you had in France- if that was even possible. Even with the way your face paled, he could tell. Your eyes were brighter. Shining at him like headlights. He would have been able to convince himself he was hallucinating if you hadn’t had that same look of recognition painted over your face.

“Thought you weren’t in the business of I.O.U’s.”

He broke the silence after a few long moments. Both of you stood rooted to the pavement mere yards apart. Your breathless laugh broke the tension like a stone dropped in the middle of a stilled lake.

“I wasn’t.”

He nodded sharply.

“And now?”

You smiled. Brighter than you had before.

“I could be persuaded.”

He scoffed.

“S’at so?”

[celabi]

tbh, I feel like I’ve been drifting away from the original scummy scara I made when I first made the au, so I would like to let everyone know that he is a BIG freak. the type of guy you avoid because he’s just… so creepy and weird. like, restraining order, banned in fifty states type of weird.

he will steal a pen you’ve been nibbling on in class, and do all sorts of things to it that you don’t wanna know. like shoving it down his throat or something idk.

he goes through the trash and takes the gun you spat out, and chews it as if he were a man on death row. and at this point he might as well be.

he ‘makes’ you home made lunch. (which is just store brought food he put into a lunch box). awe, so thoughtful, right? NO, he passed out after cumming so much to replace the dressing on your salad.

spits in your drink, so it’s almost like you’re kissing in a way, because his saliva is in your mouth yada yada. he’s so delusional, gosh.

this man jerks off to anything. pictures of you in a bikini. pictures of your panties that he snuck a photo of from under your skirt. hell, he has even fapped it to a post he found on one of your family members facebook where you look like the most ordinary person ever. anything.

he acts like an angel around you, but the moment you turn your back, he has this dark, violent glint in his eyes at anyone who isn’t you.

he STANK. like discord moderator who manages thirty different servers. he plays video games 24/7 and eats only fast food + he lives in his mothers basement so minus points.

his mind is SO dirty too. like you could be complaining about this one girl who has been getting on your nerves recently, and all he can think about is bending you over the table and running his hands all over your body. he thinks of you when he shouldn’t, and in ways he shouldn’t, even before you knew his name.

yeah he’s so sweet, and kisses the ground you walk on. but he also would love nothing more then to knock you up and keep you as his cute little spouse who he can come home and make love to every day.

god and he’s a brat too, don’t get me started. like, throwing tantrums when you decide to sit with someone else at lunch. starting fights with people who so much as look in your general direction (ones that he loses cause he is so small and scrawny). screaming profanities at the professors who separate your seating plans in lectures, and so on.

if you’ve been keeping up with my posts, you’ll know that this man has a literal sex doll replica of you he sleeps with at night. it’s so detailed to the point where there is freckles in the exact same spot they are on your skin. (even some moles and beauty marks that you didn’t even know you had, and god knows how he does).

has a shrine of you in his closet. strands of your hair he has collected. lipgloss and chapstick he has stolen from your bag whilst you weren’t looking. accessories like rings and bracelets. nail polish, all the works. and in the middle of this shrine, in all its glory, is a pair of your underwear that he took while you were in the changing rooms. he prays to it. the holy grail.

he has been dating you in his head the moment he saw you, like, gets a little annoyed when you don’t remember your five month anniversary, but the thing is, you didn’t even know you’re dating at all.

I love him. don’t get me wrong, but he is not the man you want to get involved with, like AT ALL.

go for someone like scummy alhaitham, who has (some) self respect 👍

[fandom]

Y'all really know how to commit to a bit.

In an impressive performance of "yes, and," mole interest trended with art and fun facts about those adorable little creatures being shared left and right. Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake continues to deliver the fun and heartbreak we all expected to see. Speaking of fun and heartbreak, the trailer for the second season of Our Flag Means Death dropped and has everyone counting down the days until October 5. In gaming news, Nintendo announced the release date for the new Side Order DLC for Splatoon 3, and folks can't wait to jump into the new single-player campaign. Unity announced a new fee for game installs, causing a huge spike in concern from developers and players alike. Finally, a familiar face appeared in Ahsoka, and, well, folks are really happy about it. This is Tumblr's Week in Review.

Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Mole Interest

Our Flag Means Death

9-1-1

Baldur's Gate 3

Good Omens

Simon Petrikov | Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Star Wars

Ahsoka

Artists on Tumblr

The QSMP Minecraft Server

Crowley | Good Omens

Aziraphale | Good Omens

Unity

Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3

Helluva Boss

Splatoon

One Piece

Ineffable Husbands | Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens

Undertale

[bunny-bear-blogs]

Perfect Blend

Synopsis: It was the weeks leading up to finals at your university, which meant everyone and anyone were stressed out. Due to this panic, you were not able to book a study room and instead decided to do so at a cozy cafe down the street from where you lived. Which seemed like a great idea and saved you gas; however, for some reason your server is always the same sarcastic taunting man, Scaramouche. You're not quite sure why he won’t leave you alone or how he takes long breaks just to talk to you. Or how he brings you drinks and desserts for free—it's all a mystery, just like him.

A/N: In honor of Scaramouche's birthday <3

Packed. All Packed. All the study rooms in your university’s library were packed. You knew you should’ve woken up an hour earlier to ensure your spot in a room, but no, you were too tired from doing homework from the night before. This was a huge pain. I mean, where were you going to study if not in a study room? It’s not like you couldn’t study elsewhere, like in your room or other parts of the university, but those specific university study rooms gave you so much energy to get stuff done that you doubt you would be able to replicate the success you had elsewhere. Feeling defeated, you just decided to go on with your day while thinking of potential study places.

With no solution found, you walked out of the university, making your way to your apartment, still with a sense of defeat. You stopped at the crosswalk when you saw a white-haired girl drop her groceries. Feeling a sense of familiarity, you rushed over and helped the girl get up and pick up her groceries. Once she was back on her feet, she turned around with wide eyes and spoke.

“Y/N, it's you!”

“Nahida? What are you doing here?”

It was Nahida. She was a family friend and had been there for many fundamental points in your life. You wondered what she was doing here, near your apartment, since she lived elsewhere. “I’m dropping off groceries for my nephew. He works at a cafe and was not sure when his shift would end to buy some, so here I am to deliver.

She smiled brightly. She’s always so radiant in everything she says and does.

“I didn’t know you had a nephew.”

“It’s a recent thing.”

She said it shyly but with a smile. Looking at it now, Nahida has always had many amazing traits, one of the most prevalent being her infinite kindness and wisdom. Which gave you an idea in your head of what to ask the girl.

“Nahida, do you have any recommendations for study places? Preferably one that will cause motivation."

“Yes, I do! There are some cafes in other areas of town that would do the trick, but the one I most prefer is the 6wirl Cafe. It’s right by your apartment street, so it's easily accessible. It’s also where my nephew works. You should check it out. In fact, you should take this to him.”

She then passed the groceries over to you and gave you a warm smile before walking off in the opposite direction, leaving you dumbfounded and confused.

You then, with the groceries in hand, walked over to near your apartment, looking intently for the cafe. Finally, you saw it, with the name “6wirl Cafe.” What an odd name. Well, no going back now, so you walked into the cafe. It was a cozy cafe, with books all over the shelves and seat cushions ranging from green to blue. There were chairs and different-style bean bags in certain areas, and the cafe also had a section where booths were separated from others, giving one proper study time in a closed area. It was perfect for you. You were ready to dive in—well, until you remembered about the groceries. You needed to give these to her nephew, but who was he? Not knowing the best course of action, you decided to walk up to the register and ask the cashier.

“Hello, welcome to 6wirl Cafe! How may I assist you?

He had a casual, whatever-or-no tone. The man also had burgundy hair, whose bangs were pulled back by a black headband. Along with that, he had olive-green eyes with a mole under each. He was wearing a white shirt with khaki pants and a 6wirl apron over his shirt.

“Hello, this sounds odd, but I was wondering if any of your workers know someone named Nahida. She asked me to give this to her nephew, but I have no idea who that is.”

“OH. I know who you're talking about.”

The man had a beaming smile and turned back, shouting for the nephew.

“SCARAMOUCHE! You have a visitor—an interesting one, I might add.”

After a few seconds, Nahida’s nephew came in. He was beautiful—maybe the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. He had indigo hair that reached up to his ears, which matched his dazzling indigo eyes. He wore a bit of red eyeliner under his eyes and the same outfit the man you spoke to before had.

“What is it, Heizou? You know I don’t like to be bothered on my break.”

He seemed annoyed.

“This lovely lady was looking for you and has a gift for you from your aunt.”

The Indigo-haired man then turned his head in your direction and proceeded to walk over to you. You would be lying if you said this man didn’t make you nervous. He then looked you straight in the eye with his hand extending outward. Was he asking for a handshake?

“Hand it over.”

I guess he wasn’t asking for a handshake.

“Don’t be so cruel to the young lady, Scara. She’s just doing your aunt a favor.”

“Then she should hand it over. It’s none of yours or hers buisness.” I know that he just wants his groceries, but he doesn’t have to be so mean about it. I guess he was too beautiful to be true.

“It actually is my business since I have known Nahida for years and she’s never mentioned you once. I wonder why that is."

You said, your tone switching from one of confusion to one of the same aggression that Scaramouche had towards you.

“Listen, I'm going to give you guys some time to talk in private; there's a booth over there you two can discuss this in. Also, Scara, this will be counting as your break.”

The man with the olive-green eyes then quickly scurried off to a room in the back of the cafe before Scaramouche could say anything. The indigo-eyed man next to you then turned around, mumbling the words.

“Let’s talk.”

You then nodded and followed that man to a seat. It was silent at first until you decided to speak.

“So your Nahida’s nephew? I've known her for years, yet this is my first time hearing that she has one.”

He seemed timid after that comment, as if his haughty persona had gone away. His facial expression also changed into a somber one. Which made you regret asking or using that tone with him.

“It’s a complicated arrangement.”

He then looked away. Judging by his facial expressions, you realized the circumstances that brought them together were likely not a happy one.

“I won’t pry into it then.”

Feeling remorse, you then passed him his groceries, which Nahida asked you to deliver to him. He then clutched the bag, holding it tightly to him. His words hitched on his breath as if he were hesitating to say something.

“I’ve heard of you before, well, all the time. Nahida speaks very highly of you, Y/N.”

“How did you know I was Y/N?”

“Call it figuring out context clues.”

“Nahida speaks highly about me?"

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

You were shocked, to say the least, but felt content knowing Nahida speaks highly of you.

“That’s kind of you to say. I’m sure she feels the same about you as well. If she's having you stay with her, I'm sure that means she cares for you very much."

You gave the man a warm smile with a soft expression and saw how his expression went from a somber one to a soft one as well. He then fiddled with his fingers and spoke.

“Thank you for saying that.”

He was shy with his expression, but even through that, you could tell that the Indigo-hair man was blushing. Maybe he wasn’t the same as the aggravated boy you met before. He then continued speaking.

“Though I’m still not over our talk from earlier, mortal.”

Maybe he was the same aggravated boy you met before.

“I’m sorry, what?"

“You heard me, mortal.”

“You know you're a mortal too? And you were the mean one.”

Your soft expression then turned into one with a glare.

“Quick tip glaring isn’t good for the face, mortal.”

“I am literally going to beat you up for that comment.”

“Try me, mortal.”

“Once again, don’t call me that! You’re literally a mortal too.”

"Hmm, then what should I call you? What about bug? Since I'll crush you in a fight.”

This man sure was something. Not a good thing, but something. Before you could retort back, the burgundy-haired man you met before came barging in.

“Scaramouche, your break is up. It’s time to work!"

"Ugh, but I barely even got a break.”

“Fifteen minutes is fifteen minutes.”

“But it’s not my fault that this bug came barging in here.”

It was as if you could hear your blood boil every second this man spoke. Especially when he called you a bug—I mean, who does that?

“Too bad, get back to work.”

He then stood up from his seat, groceries in hand, and looked back at you.

“You’re going to pay for this bug, and I’ll be back.”

“Try me.”

He just glared at you with a sour expression. Which caused you to pipe up and fake happiness to further sour his mood.

“Have fun! Bye Scara~”

You said it with a wide smile in a condescending tone, along with waving your hand back at the man. He only walked away, mumbling to himself.

Since you were already here with your backpack in hand, you decided to just pull out your laptop and start studying. You were loving the vibe of the cafe and even got up to order a drink to make you feel more motivated. You were excited to try the drink you ordered and were waiting to get it any second.

“Here’s the drink you ordered.”

You looked up. Oh. It’s him again, Scaramouche.

“What do I owe the pleasure of having you as my server?"

You said it with a small, clearly fake smile.

"Well, I just wanted to see how my bug was doing.”

“Once again, I am not a bug. How long is it going to take for that to get through your head?”

He then leaned down towards you, putting a hand near his ear.

“What’s that bug? I can’t hear you; try again when you get stronger.”

“I think someone lacks listening skills.”

“I do not.”

“So you can hear me.”

“Maybe anyway, here’s your drink.”

He then laid down the drink you ordered and took a seat next to you.

“Shouldn’t you get back to work?"

“You took my break time, so it’s only fair if I take some of your time.”

You rolled your eyes.

"Plus, I think you're pretty interesting.”

“Fine, you can stay here; just don’t bother me too much.”

Over the next few weeks leading up to the finals, interactions like those continued. With you coming every day to the cafe to study and having the same Indigo-eyed man as your waiter, It became the new normal to see him every day and have him rush to his job or take long breaks just to sit and talk with you. He still continued being rude and calling you a bug, but his soft side would show sometimes when he would bring you free drinks or desserts.

It was now Saturday, with your hardest final exam being on Monday. Needless to say, you were terrified since you had always performed poorly in this class. Which was why the second you woke up, you got dressed to start studying at the cafe.

You walked inside and waved hello to Heizou, who was at the register, and made your way to sit down in your usual spot. You sat down and pulled out your laptop and textbook to start taking notes and re-reading sections. This went on for about thirty minutes until you heard a familiar voice.

“How’s my favorite bug doing?”

The Indigo-eyed man was leaning over towards you, holding a tray with a slice of cake on it.

“Stressed.”

During the few weeks of being here, you had gotten used to Scaramouche’s nickname for you. At this point, the insult only hurt a bit, plus you had moved up the ranks and become his favorite bug. Perhaps during the few weeks you also developed a small crush on the man. Well, not a small crush, but a huge one, one that was only amplified with every word said and action performed. You’re not quite sure when it happened, but somewhere along the line, you realized that you enjoyed his company way more than you let on. Too much so that you can’t bear to go days without him, which brings you to your next problem other than finals. Once your exam is over, you won’t have a reason to visit the cafe or be here for hours. Which meant that from now until Monday, you had to study and figure out if Scaramouche feels the same for you.

"Hmm, well, luckily I could help with that.”

He then took to the seat across from you and placed down a tray with a small slice of strawberry shortcake and a small cup of coffee.

“I brought this for you, bug, so you could feel more motivated.”

He was always sweet like this, always bringing you free desserts and drinks. It was always too many to count, making you wonder if they were really free or coming out of his wallet.

He then picked up the fork and passed it over to you. Your hands touched for a split second, which to you felt like forever, like a moment that made you want to linger.

“Thank you for the great meal, Scara!”

You then took a few bites out of the cake. It was absolutely delicious—truly a cake made by the divine. As you ate, you realized that Scara was staring at you intently.

"Scara, I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“With that face.”

“You mean my handsome face.”

"Oh, shut it; I mean just that you're staring at me so intently.”

“Am I not allowed to stare at my favorite bug?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Fine, well, I’ll have you know I baked that cake.”

“You? Baked this?”

You were clearly shocked, looking back and forth at the man and the cake.

"Yes, I did.”

He then scratched his face, turning away shyly, and proceeded to speak in a low voice.

“I noticed you like the strawberry shortcake from our menu a lot, and I just wanted to learn how to make it for you so you don’t need to come here every time you want it but could just come find me." You blushed. Was he saying what you think he was? You don’t need to come here to see him, but could you see him anytime you want, anywhere?

“That’s really sweet, Scara. Thank you; no one’s ever done anything like that for me. I’ll cherish eating this slice of cake forever."

“I have the rest in my car.”

“I’ll take the rest too, then.”

“Don’t overeat.”

“I’d be happy to overeat on the cake you made for me.”

He then blushed and got up.

"Anyway, you should get back to studying.”

“That’s funny of you to say; don’t you usually stay here with me for long periods of time?”

"Well, it's only a short time till your final, so I want you to do your best and succeed."

You smiled at the man's sweet words and nodded.

A couple hours later, as you were exiting the cafe, the man came up to you once again. He grabbed your hand to pull you back while shouting your name.

“Y/N!”

You were stunned at that and how his hand was now holding yours. It was so unbelievably warm. It felt as if you had been cold all your life, and now, at this moment, you are finally experiencing warmth. You wished that he would never let go of your hand and that this warmth would stay for the rest of your life.

“Scara?”

“I don’t want you to forget the cake I made you."

He spoke shyly and shakenly.

“Of course I couldn’t forget; I just hadn’t seen you, so I assumed you’d give it to me tomorrow, but I’d be happy to take it today.”

The man then smiled and ran back to the breakroom. Leaving his hand with him, you felt cold again now that his hand was gone. Before you could think about it any longer, the man came back with the strawberry shortcake.

“Here’s the cake, and I’m telling you, bug, don’t overeat and get a stomach ache from it.”

“I won’t. I won’t.”

You then softly smiled and made your way out of the cafe, clutching tight to your strawberry shortcake.

Today was the last day to study for your final, so like yesterday, you went to the cafe the second you woke up. You wished you could say the final was the only thing on your mind, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t even the top priority. Your top priority was figuring out what to do about Scaramouche since, after tomorrow, you wouldn’t have a reason to visit the cafe as often as you do. I mean, tomorrow you promised him you would visit, but that was only to tell him how you did. Which meant you had to find out how he felt today.

You walked into the cafe once again, and like a daily routine, you waved hi to Heizou and sat down in your usual spot. You had pulled out your laptop and started reviewing the notes you made yesterday. Which didn’t last long, as ten minutes later your favorite waiter, Scara, came.

“Hey bug."

“Hello Scara.”

You then noticed him holding a tray carrying a drink. He then leaned down near you, placing the drink down.

“I wanted to try making this drink, but I can’t get the blend right. Any thoughts?”

He said as he slid the drink towards you. You then picked it up and took a sip. He was right that something was off with the drink, but you couldn’t figure out what.

"Hmm, maybe it has to do with the percentages of stuff you're putting in it? I’m not quite sure I’m not a coffee expert."

“Thanks bug. I’ll get better at making it and make you try it again soon.”

The man then ran off before you could get another word in.

He then came back after an hour with a small pastry and a cup of coffee. He leaned over you and slid the pastry and coffee in front of you.

“Here, this is take two of trying to get the blend. What do you think?"

You then tried the coffee, still feeling something off. Hmm, maybe it's that it doesn’t have a big aftertaste."

The man then grabbed the cup, taking a sip.

“I think you're right; I’m not sure what to do as the aftertaste flavor is completely stumped."

“I know the perfect flavor.”

You both turned back to see where the voice was coming from. To both of your surprises, it was Nahida. She then took a seat opposite

you, and you scooted over for Scaramouche to sit by you. “Nahida, what are you doing here?

“I just wanted to check up on how both of you were doing. I’m glad to see you both getting along great. Oh, Y/N, did you enjoy the cake Scara baked?

He tried so hard to make the cake to your liking.”

"NAHIDA, don't tell her that.”

Scaramouche was as red as the strawberries on the cake he made you yesterday. He was blushing, and he seemed to have lost his composure.

"Sorry, Y/N, he seems to be a bit shy, but I hope you enjoyed the cake.”

“I loved the cake and am very grateful for it!.”

“Well Nahida you said you knew the solution to the blend problem.

How do I figure out what to pick for the aftertaste?”

"Well, I knew that I’d be confident that you’d find the solution. Think about the coffee and who it’s made for—the person it’s meant to be given too. Once you have figured all that out, you will be able to make the perfect blend."

Classic Nahida to give such a vague answer.

“Thank you for your wisdom, Nahida. I’m sure he’ll be able to figure out the blend sooner or later.”

The Indigo-haired man sighed and then nodded.

"Well, I should be on my way now. I wouldn’t want to keep you from studying. Goodluck Y/N!”

She then got up and walked away from the cafe. Leaving you and Scaramouche dumbfounded at what just happened. You spoke first, followed by him.

“What do you think she meant by who’s the coffee for?”

The man then blushed heavily and turned around.

"Nothing; she meant nothing. You should study now; it won't be long till your exam.”

He then left and hurried back to work. Maybe leaving quickly runs in the family; who knows?

It was now thirty minutes before the closing of the cafe. You had grown worried since you hadn’t seen Scaramouche since. I mean, of course, it’s his job to work here and not sit and chat idly with customers, but it felt odd that he was here but not with you. It makes sense that he left you so you could study, but he could’ve stopped by to say hello at least. You had grabbed your bag and made your way to the exit of the cafe when you tripped. You had felt yourself fall backwards and closed your eyes, bracing for impact. But it never happened; you never made contact with the ground but instead with someone's arms.

“Caught you bug.”

It was him. Scaramouche, the man you liked, had caught you. You couldn’t help but blush and smile with excitement.

“Why are you smiling, bug?”

“Because I’m finally seeing you."

He then smiled and helped you stand back up.

“I’m glad to hear you're happy to see me.”

"Well, you didn’t come visit me after Nahida came, so I was worried.”

"Well, I was working on perfecting the blend, and I think I have it.”

"Woah, can I try it then?”

"Nope, you’re going to try it tomorrow when you come to tell me how you scored on your final.”

"Boo, that’s so mean.”

“That way, we’ll know if you deserve to try it.”

“Still, what if I do bad tomorrow?”

He then bent down to grab your hand and kiss it.

“I know you won’t do bad tomorrow.”

You blushed, your brain not processing that the man you like just kissed your hand.

“I’ll do my best for your sake, then.”

The man then smiled softly and spoke.

“It’s getting late; you should be on your way home."

“You’re right; I’ll take my leave then.”

The man then kissed your hand once more before letting you go.

“I believe in you one hundred percent.”

You went home that night with a million thoughts racing through your head and your heart beating practically out of your chest. You had gathered enough information to conclude that Scaramouche likes you—at least you think so. Tomorrow, after your exam, if you do well, you swear you're going to tell him your feelings.

You had just gotten out of your final exam. You were stressed going in there and felt like you were going to throw up just taking the exam; however, it was all worth the struggle when you saw your score. You had scored a perfect score. Those long weeks of studying nonstop had paid off, and now you were even more confident to reveal your feelings.

You had made your way to the cafe and walked in following your daily routine, saying hello to Heizou and walking over to your usual spot. You waited for about a minute before the Indigo hair man came.

“So how’d it go, bug?”

He said it, beaming with excitement as if already knowing how it went.

"Well, I got a perfect score on my exam!”

Before saying anything, he rushed in to envelope you in a hug. Holding you tightly, whispering that I knew you could do it, and that’s my bug. When the both of you broke out of the hug, he paused, told you he had something for you, and ran off into the back room. The man then came back carrying a tray holding strawberry shortcake, roses, and a small cup of coffee.

He then slid the strawberry shortcake and small coffee over to you and passed you the bouquet of roses.

“Thank you so much, Scara. This is so sweet of you. Thank you for everything.”

You said this while smelling the roses he gave you. He then pointed to the small cup of coffee.

“I’ve perfected my blend, and I wanted you to taste it to see if it’s to your liking.”

You smiled and drank the coffee. It was amazing, truly perfect, like Scaramouche had said. It was sweet and full of flavor, just as you liked it, but most of all, it was filled with overwhelming care and love

“Scara, this is amazing! It’s the perfect blend! How’d you do this?”

“I thought about what Nahida said, who I wanted to give this coffee to, and what feelings I wanted to express. I wanted to give this coffee to you, so I used items you liked in it, and I wanted to tell you I like you romantically, so I put my all into making this perfect for you.”

The indigo-eyed man was blushing heavily while confessing his love to you.

“Y/N I just couldn’t live without telling you my feelings, knowing I wouldn’t see you as often or at all after finals. I like you so much and want you to stay with me.”

You smiled at the man’s confession and jumped into his arms, enveloping him in a hug like the one he had given you before.

“I like you too, Scara. I want to stay with you as well."

“Thank you for liking me back, Y/N.”

He spoke shyly but in a happy tone. Soon, the two of them broke out of the hug and sat down side by side.

“Hey Scara?”

“Yes, bug?”

“Would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?”

Scaramouche gave a pure, genuine smile back at Y/N.

“I’d love to.”

"Well, then my first degree as your girlfriend is that we eat cake.”

You pointed to the cake. You then grabbed the fork and took a bite of the cake.

“Scara, it's delicious; you should try some.”

“I will.”

He said it mischievously, which was then followed by him leaning closer and closer to you. He then moved his hand to cup your cheek and moved closer to you until your lips were inches away. You both could feel each other's breath being inhaled and exhaled.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

He whispered quietly, just low enough for you to hear. You then nodded. He then closed the distance between the two of you and kissed you time and time again. He loved the way your lips were soft and the way you smelled so sweet, as if your scent were mirroring your personality. Finally, when the two of you let go of each other's lips, the Indigo-haired man then smirked.

“The strawberry shortcake was absolutely delicious, right?”

You blushed heavily, the thoughts of what just happened moments ago still repeating through your head.

"Yeah, I think that’s my new favorite method of eating strawberry shortcake.”

"Hmm, is that so?”

“I’m very sure of that.”

"Well, then let’s go again.”

He said he was smiling once more. Leaning closer once more and closing the distance between the both of you once again.

[romanarose]

Love and Friendship

Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: Joel drives you and you friends home.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking and getting drunk, brief mention of cheating and bad relationship not with reader or Joel, but her friend. Joel being respectful as hell.

Immersivity: Reader is fem and drinks

Written for the @swiftiscruff fic exchange! This is dedicated to every single one of the people in my RomanaVerse discourd server, in no particular order.

Lila, Angie, Kit, Kate, Katie, May, Tara, Winnie, Alicia, Del, Whitney, Dolli, Fen, Haru, Ivy, Mickyla, Pimo, Soup, Olive. Thank you to all you guys who have been supporting my work for years or few weeks. I love you all. If i somehow missed your name its just bc im silly i swear.

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“JOOOOOOOOOOOEL!!!!”

Joel had to pull the phone away from his head as you screamed over the thumping sounds of the club. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. While you were out with friends, he had spent the evening and into the warm summer night Sarah’s room putting in a built-in bookshelf. She was on a trip with his parents for a few weeks and wanted to surprise her when she got back. Sarah always wanted a built-in bookshelf. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry darl’n!” Joel ran down the stairs, shoving his feet into his shoes and grabbing his keys. “I lost track of time, I’ll be there in 10!”

Joel was supposed to pick you up at 1 AM from the bar. It was 1:53, and he wouldn’t get there until the bar closed. 

“It’s okay baby!” you didn’t sound peeved at all. “But could we maybe drop off my friends too? Since we’re out anyway?”

He hopped into his car. “Yeah, of course baby, of course. Just stand outside once they close up, don’t talk to no one and don’t go near any cars. Make sure Angie doesn’t wander off with no one.”

You promised to stay on the phone with him until he got there. Joel didn’t like you leaving the bars on your own, too many freaks and perverts out there.

Joel pulled up to find you with your friends standing by the building, and he got out to open the door for you and them. “Sorry the back’s a little messy, ladies, work truck and all- hold on.” As you got in the front, Joel got a blanket from the black and laid it over the seats “There, less dirty.”

Angie, Kat and Lana all thanked Joel, and climbed in the back. 

While Joel drove to Lana and Kat’s, you talked to you rfriends about the night. 

“I can’t believe you danced with him Ang, what the fuck. He cheated on you three times.”

“I knoooooowwww!” She giggled. “But he’s sooooooo cute!!!”

Kat rolled her eyes with a smile. “Girl he looks like a grown up Big Mouth guy.”

“Nick Kroll?”

“What? No. Like the cartoon guy grown up.”

“Yeah, the weird Big Mouth kid was modeled after Nick Kroll so that’s just Nick Kroll? And he’s hot??”

Kat groaned, sinking down into their seat. “No, not Nick Kroll, the one voiced by John Mul- wait, you think Nick Kroll is hot?”

The conversation continued with Angie trying to justify how she wants to give Jake ‘Just one more chance!’

Finally, you turn to Joel. “What do you think, baby?”

Joel sighed, and shifted in his seat a bit. “Well, it ain’t none of my business, and I shouldn’t really git involved…”

You smile at your boyfriend. “But you have an opinion anyway.”

With a good natured huff, he lets it out. “It’s just that Angie, I think you’re a nice gal, and if I may, respectfully, easy on the eyes and I think you could do better than a 30 year old still trying to get his rap career off the ground and looks like a naked mole rat.”

The truck erupted in laughter, including Angie,at Joel’s half-roast, half compliment, and he smiled softly. He liked your friends, and he wanted them to like him too.

*

First up was Kat and Lana. Lana was quite drunk so Joel put the truck in park and helped Kat take her girlfriend inside. Once through the door and up the stairs and safe, Joel said goodnight and locked the door as he left.

Angie was asleep by the time he was back.

“She alright?” He asked about your best friend. 

You mumbled, tired but with a smile. You had a great night, and loved your friends very, very much. “Yeah, she didn’t drink that much. She’s just not used to being up this late”

Joel hummed in recognition. “That’s right, she works the early shift. She’s probably up at like what, 4 AM?”

Turning to him with a bright smile, you giggle a bit. “How do you remember that?”

He shrugged, not thinking much of it. “Angie’s usually the first to leave, so it makes sense.”

You can’t help beam at him, streetlights periodically illuminating his pretty face, strong nose, full cheeks. Your friends mattered to you, them and Joel and Sarah were your everything. So many times, you hear of women whose friends hate their man and vice versa, how there was contention. Hell, Angie’s stupid ass ex never wanted her to hang out with your girlfriends, saying you and them were bad influences, accusing Kat and Lana of trying to sleep with her, etc etc etc. Joel was never like that. 

From the beginning, Joel was respectful, kind, and welcoming to your friends and family. They were welcome over any time, and sometimes came over when you weren’t home to wait for you. You trusted them with Joel and Joel with them. He’d always offer to BBQ something on a warm day, or make you drinks. Slowly, as he’s gotten more comfortable, your precious, shy man has been joking around with them, which makes you smile. Joel was more nervous than he let on a lot of the time, hiding his anti-anxiety pills  from you for months after you moved in. Still, he always welcomed your friends and in return they were respectful of his space and self. 

Pulling up to Angie’s, she’s sleeping like a baby.

“You’re gonna have to carry her and put her to bed, ain’t noth’n wake’n her up once she’s out.” You are about asleep yourself, leaning against the window.

Joel bawled. “I can’t do that!”

“Sure you can, have you seen your arms? Jacked.”

“No- I mean-” He sighed. “I can’t take a drunk lady to her bedroom, it’s indecent!”

“Well she ain’t sleep’n in the truck, c’mon I’ll walk with you. 

Joel sighed again but agreed. Walking around the truck, he unbuckled her, scooped her up and carried her to where you opened your door with your spare key. You guided your boyfriend to the bedroom and excused himself to get her water. There was no way you were gonna be able to put her in pj’s by yourself, so you just unzipped her dress to give her room to breathe and took off her strappy heels. You put fuzzy socks on your feet, the aloe infused kind she loved and covered her in her blankets.

A knock on the door. “She decent?”

“Yeah, come on in.”

Joel placed the glass of water and an Advil on the counter and a trash can by the bedside and said he'd be in the living room.

You sit by your friend’s side, just for a moment, stroking her hair, admiring how pretty your friend was. Beautiful woman, beautiful heart. Your best friend. 

She murmured your name. You took the opportunity to sit her up, making sure she drank some water. “Yes babe?”

“I like Joel a lot.” Angie yawned. “You should keep him.”

You chuckled. “He can’t escape me if tried.”

*

Once she was asleep again, you walk out and take Joel’s hand, wrapping your arms to hang off his. Joel opens the door for you, and you slide into the middle of the seat, snug against him when he gets in the driver’s side.

“Seatbelt.” He reminded you, you mutter ‘blah blah blah’ but he reaches over you and straps you in.

“Love you.”

“Love you too, darl’n.”

You drive down the road, Joel taking the long way home just so you could watch the night sky together. His truck rumbled and vibrated and bounced, but his arm around your shoulder steadied you.

“They like you a lot. My friends.”

“I like them too. And baby, I ain’t try’n.”

You look up at him. “Hm?”

“To escape.” Joel kissed your forehead tenderly. “Heard what you said to Angie, and I ain’t trying to escape. Not in a million years.”

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due to everything happening, this will be my last fic for a little. If you know my other writing formates, I will be updating there a bit here and there but with everything going on I think it's best to keep things quiet for a min. the timing is fitting, as I have a lot of projects to do before school finals.

Then, I'll be backand raring to go again! I think a break will do me good.

I love you all dearly!

No tags bc given everything, I don't wanna draw attention from myself to anyone else. Don't feel like you gotta reblog this one, I would suggest you don't to avoid the heat.

Hugs, and thank you to everyone whose supported my writing for the last 3 years.

[nyaagolor]

Another round of little guys!!

Gaspen is a star-nosed mole, Clay is a black lab, Juniper is a sparrow, Viola is a silver fox, Tigre is a tiger, Luke is an aardvark, Adrian is a secretary bird, Maggey is a raven, Dee is a mink, and Olga is an arctic fox!! When she’s impersonating the server, she’s a winter coat arctic fox, but when she reveals her true identity she’s revealed to be a summer coat arctic fox!