#my other Girl What Are You Wearing moment was in a previous book where the female lead’s clothes were ripped up by the male lead

[maureen-corpse]

This historical paranormal romance series I’m reading is leaning a little more into the paranormal with some steampunk elements with each book and that’s cool and fun and all but I keep having Girl What Are You Wearing moments because are you telling me this lady deliberately disguised herself as A Lady with the assistance of her sisters (actual ladies married to titled gentlemen) and their wardrobes but is now also wandering around an ocean liner with knives strapped to her hips. The ocean liner she was pretending to be a lady on.

I will allow that all my questions could possibly be answered if I had a print book or an ebook and could go back and reread but I’m listening to an audiobook so that’s Not Easy

[seeingivy]

meet and greet

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends older brother fic

previous part linked here

--

sukuna often comes home to you.

it’s never without warning - a text from you, begging to be freed from your roommates who apparently can’t keep their hands off of each other - and then you’re settled onto his couch, into one of his blankets, when he comes home.

sukuna would never be one to deny you. and on the third week, sukuna reasons that it’s practical. giving you a key to his apartment. one for you to keep, so you didn’t have to bend over and snag the spare from underneath his rug everyday. 

so he sets it down -  right in the middle of your book - before pressing a kiss to your cheek and letting you stew in your own feelings while he showers. and when he opens the door to the bathroom, he can hear your pounding feet right before you appear before him. 

“hey.” 

he smiles. 

“someone’s eager. can you let me put some clothes on, pretty girl?” 

you look down, at the fact that sukuna’s wrapping the towel around his bare waist, and pale. 

“no! no, sorry. i mean yes. sorry. i’ll come back.” 

sukuna relishes in the look on your face, that you’ve scrunched up your nose and forehead at how awkward you were being, as he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. he watches as your eyes slowly open, as you empathetically mouth the word sorry again, before he shrugs. 

it was a habit the two of you had fallen into, rather fast. sukuna was quick to realize that your head tended to run in ten places at once, that your mouth could barely keep up with whatever was going on in your head. and you were quick to stop - coaxed by a gentle squeeze of the shoulder - when you realized that you were going too fast and he couldn’t keep up. 

“you can stay. just promise not to look.” he mumbles, grinning to himself at the pink flush that goes down your neck as he gestures for you to follow. 

sukuna watches as you sit pretty on his bed, fists curled up in your lap, and your eyes dutifully shut as he quickly throws on a pair of clothes. he stops himself from talking too fast, taking the second to watch you, observe you like this. 

at you listening to him. so obediently. 

“are you decent?” you ask, eyes still pinched shut. 

“almost never.” 

“you know what i meant.” you deadpan. 

“yes, y/n. i’m wearing clothes.” he murmurs. 

sukuna brings his hands around your cheeks, slowly pulling you up into his embrace as he feels you slowly settle against him, your hands warm on his biceps. 

“had something you wanted to say?” he murmurs, lips warm on your forehead as you shudder. 

you focus in on his tattoo, curling down the length of his shoulder, tracing the inked skin with your fingertips. you swallow down the retort that you have, that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and therefore wasn’t fully clothed or decent, and decide to save it for another time.

and try to figure out the best way, the most appropriate way, to broach what sukuna had just given you. 

“sukuna.” 

“hm?” 

“a key to your apartment?” you whisper. 

“that’s right.” he murmurs. 

you press yourself flesh to him, arms wrapped underneath his, as you feel the warmth run to your face. it’s moments like these that you can barely even look at him, because talking and maintaining contact with his eyes simultaneously had proven to be a difficult feat. 

he made you nervous. you know that he uses it to his advantage. 

like he was right now. purposely dropping the key on you, only to fully talk when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. you knew that sukuna had to be aware. of how he made you feel. you’ knew he was the observant type. and that he was perceptive too.

it’s almost too precise. too intentional, the way he touches you. like you're glass in his hands, only touching you where you touch him first.

in almost two weeks, his lingering brushes haven’t gone past your hips or your thighs, his warm kisses stopping right at your neck. it was entirely different to the haphazard, almost callous hands that you were used to, in your granted very limited experience. 

it made your entire body twitch. though you suppose that’s the effect that sukuna just has on people. 

“you ever think we’re going a little too fast?” you ask. 

“did i ask you to move in with me?” 

“no.” 

“did i propose marriage?” 

you scoff. 

“no.” 

“put a kid in you?” 

“obviously not.” 

sukuna laughs, right before pushing you back on the bed, ignoring your yelps as he all but crawls on top of you, his necklace hovering right above your lips as he smiles down at you. 

“then how are we moving too fast?” he asks. 

“you can’t just give me a key to your apartment. what if i’m a serial killer?” 

“right. i’m going to get stabbed by a knife wrapped in a sparkly pink bow.” 

“you could! have you never watched criminal minds? people will do anything these days.” you defend. 

sukuna pauses, before he slowly dips down, lips warm on your cheek. 

“are you planning on murdering me anytime soon?” he whispers. 

“no.” 

he responds with a kiss, before latching his lips straight to your neck. 

“are you going to secretly plot to poach the apartment from me?” 

“no.” 

this time his lips linger for too long in that spot, the pressure increasing so fast that it makes you can’t even stop the yelp from coming out of your mouth even if you wanted to. 

“are you going to steal from me?” 

“maybe your shirts.” you murmur. 

“maybe my shirts.” he repeats, resembling an affirmation. like he’s giving approval.

sukuna finally releases the spot on your neck, which you’re sure will purple over by tomorrow, as he brings his left hand down into your hair. 

“you have weird fucking roommates. don’t think i haven’t noticed that you keep coming back here to study. to have some peace and quiet. just take the key and use the space. what’s mine is yours.” 

you wrap your hand around the silver chain, pulling him closer to you as you muster your best, more intense stare for him. but sukuna just thinks that you oddly resemble a kitten when you do it and swallows down his laugh. 

“promise i won’t disturb you?” 

“disturb? no. distract, however? i imagine that’s nearly impossible for you to do.” 

“hey. i would leave you alone if you asked me to.” 

“why would i ever ask you to do that?” he responds, pushing off the bed and holding his hand out to you as you both pad out of his bedroom and back out to the kitchen. 

--

on friday, sukuna sends you a message from his work email. 

Dear Y/N,  Are you free tonight?  Best,  Sukuna 

you snicker, as you open up the email chain and type your reply. 

dear king of my ass,  i knew the age gap was going to bite us in the butt. did you just send me an EMAIL? are you about to invite me to a NURSING HOME?  your friendly neighborhood spiderman,  y/n 

the response comes back extremely fast. 

dear queen of my dick,  did you learn how to write emails from a cereal box? have some decorum. and i’m only two years older than you, for your information.  my colleagues have decided to take my phone for the day in their very futile efforts at stopping me from arguing with our boss. and naturally, the group of them have decided to look through my phone and now have every intention to meet you. can you meet us for drinks at six?  the green goblin,  sukuna 

you respond back just as fast. 

dear prince of cooties,  interesting. who are these clowns? and why do they know your phone passcode when you won’t even tell me? >:(  (your response is contingent on my arrival, traitor)  member of the order of the phoenix,  y/n 

you step off the train, nervously waiting for a response, as you sprint up to your apartment to find a for a good outfit to wear. that would impress sukuna and his friends. 

the mere thought of it fills you with anxiety when you think about it. that sukuna’s friends would be domineering, as intense, if not even more than he was. and that it would be very easy for you to embarrass him. 

your royal stinkiness,  do i need to come over and shut you up? you’re yapping an awful lot. and our resident pain in the ass only noticed - and badgered me to invite you to our plans - when he saw my lock screen. i’ll meet you at yours at five thirty.  your most beloved death eater,  sukuna 

there’s a very simple solution to your problem. the only person who can help you with your outfit is your roommate, mai. 

--

sukuna never found it in himself to police what a woman wears. mainly because it never did him any good in the past. a high heel to the foot, getting yanked out of the bar by his hair, and worst of all, losing the hair cells in his ear from the screaming. 

but you can’t be serious. there’s no way he’s going to let you wear that. 

“uh, you can come in. just be quiet. mai has one of her guys over. i just need to finish my makeup.” 

and change your outfit. 

the retort dies on his tongue as follows you through your dorm, only now acutely aware of the age difference between the two of you, as the smell of sex reeks in the foyer, reminding him too vividly of when he was in college four years ago. 

you drag him straight into your room by the wrist, sitting down at your vanity, as sukuna lingers around your room - his hands on all of your little trinkets - as you brush the last of the powders on your cheeks. 

“this is perverted.” he states. 

you turn around to find your sonny angel in his hand, as you stand up and snatch it back from his hands before glaring at him. 

“don’t talk about her like that. it’s a special edition.” 

“it isn’t wearing any clothes.” 

“i could throw you out for the same reason but you don't see me doing that. put her back. "

you settle back into your vanity as he comes up behind you, smiling at you from the mirror before resting his arms right at your sides. he bends down and presses a kiss into your bare shoulder, his eyes quickly wavering down before meeting yours again. 

thank god for mai. 

“are you going to wear that?” sukuna asks, carefully picking his words. 

he watches as you turn back and look at him, eyes wide. 

“do you not like it?” you murmur. 

“do you like it, y/n?” he asks. 

you swallow hard. 

“what do you mean?” you ask. 

sukuna knows for a fact that he’s right. that in the three weeks that he’s been privy to be this close to you, what he’s gathered is correct. and he desperately hates that he has to wrestle you out of this outfit now, because there’s no way he was going to watch you twitch and shuffle in your seat the entire night. 

for reasons that are entirely lost to him, you’re not very comfortable with certain parts of your body. he can tell from the clothes you pick out, from the way you tend to shift nervously and yank your own shirts down when you feel something might be showing too much. 

he can gather as much. you’re not particularly fond of your chest. you tend to dress more modestly when it comes to the shirts you wear, always layered and hardly revealing. you’re not nervous when it comes to your legs. he's seen you sporting shorts and skirts, even going as far as letting him place his hands on your thighs. 

and he’s almost positive that there’s no way that you feel comfortable now. because your shoulders are tense and you keep pulling your top up, nervously readjusting your hair onto your shoulders to cover the most that he can. 

it’s only then that he notices it. 

“your hair.” he states. 

“what about it?” 

“fix it.” he demands. 

you turn back to look at him again, tilting your head to the side in confusion. and he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose, trying to get him to verbalize his embarrassing request or get on his nerves, but he’s intent on getting you back for it all the same. 

“the ribbon. put it on.” he responds, grating the words through his teeth. 

you feel the smile spread across your face - and immediately wipe it off when he glares at you - as you rummage through your drawer for one of your ribbons and quickly lace it in with the strands. and he gives you his approval - in the form of a kiss on the top of your head - before kneeling at your side. 

“are you trying to impress me? with the shirt?” he asks.

“yeah. but it’s not a bad thing! i….i just want to look nice for you. and your friends.” 

sukuna takes a deep breath. it seems that you were always deadset on testing his patience. 

“who put that thought into your head? and for your sake, i’ll pretend that i didn’t hear the end of that sentence.” he utters, wholly irritated. 

“about your friends-” 

sukuna leans closer to you, knocking over the tiny bottles of serums and makeup on your desk, as his breath fans onto your face.

“don’t repeat it again. you’re only supposed to dress like that for me.” 

you feel the embarrassment course through you. 

“sor-” 

“change.” he repeats, pushing off of the desk and knocking everything else off the stand. 

he finds himself in your closet, pushing your hangers on the rod before yanking out one of your dresses, as you nod and shoo him out of your room. and when you shimmy the dress on, discarding the old top onto your bed.

sukuna’s satisfied by the smile you give him, that you seem to release your breath as he all but pulls you out of your apartment by your wrists. 

--

sukuna stops you before you walk into the bar. and makes you repeat the promises he’s asked you to make. though, you really can’t understand half of them. 

“okay, repeat for me.” 

“i am under no circumstances allowed to divulge that we’ve known each other since we were kids. specifically to satoru. i’m not allowed to exchange social media with shoko. and i’m not going to interact with anyone at the other tables.” 

“good girl.” 

sukuna tucks you into his side, as he pushes open the door, and drags you to the table all the way in the back. there’s four people seated there, each clearly still in their work clothes of buttoned up shirts and blazers. 

sukuna reaches for the one closest to the edge, with white hair and blue eyes, before nearly yanking him out of the booth and instructing him to sit on the other side. 

“i was sitting there!” he pouts, wrapping his arm around the blonde at his side who recoils in response. 

“and now she’s sitting there.” sukuna states, pushing you into the middle seat of the booth.

sukuna places his hand flat on your knee before pushing down, in an effort to stop your nervous bouncing. 

“y/n. these are my coworkers, sa-” 

“friends! we’re his friends!” the white haired man states again, smacking his fist on the table. 

“coworkers. shoko, nanami, satoru, and suguru.” he clarifies. 

“it’s nice to meet you guys. my name is y/n!” 

“blink twice if you’re in danger. or if he’s holding you hostage.” shoko states, peering into your eyes. 

you laugh, pleasantly surprised and less nervous by the joking demeanor - and the fact that the four of them are actually smiling at you - as you slump down into the chair. you place your hand over sukuna’s under the table and squeeze. 

“how did you guys meet?” nanami asks. 

“we met when we were…at the grocery store.” you state. 

“meet cute!” satoru states, clapping his hands together as sukuna rolls his eyes. 

and it goes decently well. because sukuna’s friends, or coworkers, aren’t what you expected in the slightest. you find out very quickly that satoru likes to annoy sukuna like it’s his one job in life, which sukuna absolutely detests. and that suguru, whose increasingly soft smiles have been helping you all night, has been dating him for the past two years. 

“do you think we’re best friends in every universe, sukuna?” satoru asks. 

“we aren’t best friends.” 

“sukuna!” 

“i would kill you in another life. and this one too, given the chance.” 

and it all comes crashing down - the warm, gooey feeling you have from being liked by sukuna’s friends, that they remind you of your own - when someone pulls up a chair to the end of the booth, sitting on it backwards, slurring as they talk. 

“do i know you from somewhere?” 

you take in his appearance and immediately pale, realizing that you do in fact know him somewhere. and that it wasn't very pleasant. and that in the next few seconds, sukuna’s going to revert to his teenage rage when he finds out you lied about what happened at the bar a few weeks ago. 

“no! no, i don’t think so.” 

“do you think you would be able to quit being a nuisance for one night, zenin?” shoko asks, making it a point to light a cigarette right in his peripheral. 

“i swear i know you from somewhere. have we met before?” 

“i’m afraid not.” you respond. 

“i’m afraid not?” he repeats, squinting his eyes together before they go wide. 

wrong choice of words. because he catches on fast enough and responds by smacking his fist right on the table, before laughing. 

“this is our boss, naoya zenin. unfortunately, he’s always like this.” suguru murmurs, mustering a polite smile. 

“that’s what you said to me. i’m afraid not. before you bit me.” naoya clarifies. 

you pale and look over at sukuna, whose ears have perked up, as he leans over his forearm, his fists clenched on the table. 

“what did you just say?” sukuna asks. 

“this is the crazy bitch i told you about a few weeks ago. she fucking bit me when i tried to kiss her.” 

“it was an accident. you just caught me off guard!” you clarify. 

and within the blink of an eye, sukuna’s punched him straight in the nose, sending the poor guy to the ground. and you can tell he makes no move to stop when he holds him up by the collar of his shirt, as nanami and satoru stand at his sides, urging him to settle down.

you remember now from the email that sukuna had stated, rather explicitly, that it took the group of them to settle him down from his boss everyday. and now his hatred for him was certainly worse.

shoko and suguru are at your sides, hands on your shoulders, as they pinch their faces up. 

“c’mon, sukuna. not worth it.” nanami murmurs, trying to wrestle the poor guy out of his hands. 

“are you really going to do this in front of your girl?” satoru asks, eyes wide as he glances over at you. 

sukuna clears his throat, like he’s thinking, before he talks. 

“suguru.” 

he sighs at your side. 

“really, sukuna. it’s not a good look.” he responds. 

“exactly. so get her out of here.” he repeats, glaring at him, as suguru and shoko oblige start shuffling you out of the bar by your sides and taking you out into the cold of the bar. 

but the windows are clear. and the shades are pulled wide open. the fact that the two of them have escorted you out leaves little to the imagination. because sukuna swings the second your feet hit the pavement and the resounding cracks that follow could only meet one thing. 

“we’re sorry about him. he’s not always like this.” suguru states. 

“no, he is. he’s been like this since he was like thirteen.” you murmur. 

you feel your eyes widen, as suguru and shoko look over at you, confused. 

“ah. you know. he’s told me before. about how he was as a kid. real emotional guy.” 

“no he hasn’t.” shoko states. 

suguru breaks out into a smile. 

“have you known sukuna for a while? like…since you were kids?” suguru asks. 

“don’t tell satoru. he made me promise. but i’ve known him since i was four. he’s my best friend’s older brother.” 

and then shoko and suguru are barely able to contain their laughs, the latter nearly toppling onto the pavement as tears sprout out of his eyes. which is the exact sight that sukuna walks out to - seeing stars from his left eye as the skin swells up. he’s quick to stand at your side, as you reach out for his fists, eyeing the red smeared all over them. 

“not mine. most of it anyways.” 

“your eye. are you-” 

“i had to let him get one in. so i don’t get fired.” he shrugs, as he look over at suguru, who is now being pulled up by satoru. 

he glares. 

“what the fuck is so funny?” 

“y/n promised she wouldn’t let satoru find out. scouts honor.” 

you watch as sukuna’s cheeks turn pink, and as he quickly waves goodbye to everyone, before he’s dragging you down the block to the car and far away from them. 

--

“hold the ice pack there.” you scold, pushing the block back into his face as he rolls his eyes. 

you’re intent on disinfecting and wrapping both of sukuna’s knuckles, because save for what he said, there’s deep cuts along the length of both of his hands. 

“it’s fine.” he states. 

“you know. he was bleeding too. hiv can be passed through bodily fluids.” 

sukuna laughs, as you fight the urge to smile, and you carefully tie the white bandages around his wrist. his hands are calloused under yours, rough as you brush your fingers around his peeled skin and he lightly flinches. 

“relax.” you murmur. 

“you bit him?” he asks. 

you groan. 

“you’re in no position to be asking me questions right now. i’m mad at you.” 

“you’re mad at me? and what did i do to be so worthy of your wrath?” 

“i was having fun! i didn’t want to leave yet. and i didn’t realize you were still stupid enough to get into fights, sukuna.” 

“he called you a bitch. that warranted more than what i did.” 

"don't pretend that was you showing mercy, sukuna. he probably got dragged out on his feet."

"and if he didn't, i'll make sure of it on monday."

you sigh.

“now i’m never going to tell you what happened.” you state. 

sukuna rests one of his hands by your side, setting the icepack down and squeezing hard as you focus in on the bandage on the other side. 

“ice pack.” 

“don’t want it. i want to know what happened.” 

“well, i’m not going to tell you.” 

sukuna reaches his hands beneath the pleats of your dress, lifting you straight onto the counter, and pushing so close into your space that you’re lying down flat on the granite of his counter. and naturally, he’s hovering over you again, his pink hair tickling your forehead.

you find it annoying that he always talks to you like this. mostly because it sends your heart straight into your throat and you find it hard to talk. 

“you should really ice that. and do you always feel the need to be on top of me when you talk to me?” 

“only when you’re being bratty and won’t listen.” he states. 

“i wasn’t done with your hand.” 

“and i wasn’t done talking to you.” 

you pause.

“promise you won’t do anything.” 

“absolutely not.” 

“sukuna.” 

“fine.” 

“i was talking to him at the bar. he leaned into to kiss me. i didn’t want to, so i said i couldn’t. be asked why. if i liked him. i said “i’m afraid not” and then he leaned in again. fully this time. and i was so shocked that i accidentally bit his tongue before i could push him off. and then he called me an ugly bitch and walked away.” 

sukuna pushes off the counter, yanking you off of your back by your forearms before he holds his hand out to you again. and places the ice pack flat against his eye. you shoot him a grateful smile as you finish the other bandage and then press yourself flesh against him. 

“i made no promises. i’m going to punch him again on monday.” he states.

“had a feeling. you're going to get fired.” you state. 

"nope."

"he'll report you to hr."

"and i'll tell them that he tried to sexually assault my girlfriend."

you feel your cheeks burn, your heart thumping fast in your chest. at sukuna so freely giving you the label, like it was almost nothing to him.

"you're crazy."

“you’re fine with it? me beating it out of him?” 

“no. but that’s not going to stop you is it?” you ask. 

“absolutely not. he put his hands on you. I have every intent to break them.” 

always one for the dramatics.

you drag your hands down the length of his arms, before taking his hands in yours. sukuna’s never had someone look at him like this, so intently, so carefully at his injured flesh like they wanted to take the pain away away. and there’s a part of him, one that’s too proud, that won’t ask for what he wants. 

“that’s fine. it’ll be your fault when you get herpes.” you state. 

“herpes aren't passed by blood.” he responds.

“why do you know that? speaking from past experience?” 

“shut up.” 

“well, now i’m never having sex with you. you can say goodbye to that fantasy.” 

“you wound me.” 

you release his hands as you reach for your things by the door, slipping your shoes on as you shoot him a smile. and it’s your smile, so full and bright, that supersedes the pride. 

“y/n?”

“yeah?” 

“can you come here?” 

you nod, shuffling over as you tuck the purse into the crook of your arm, and look up at him. 

“you’re not going to kiss it better?” he states. 

it comes out as a demand, almost sarcastic. although he didn’t mean it that way. he silently hopes that you’re able to parse out the real meaning and that you’ll oblige his request. 

“needy.” 

you stand on your tip toes and press a kiss to the pink near his eye, before locking your hands in with his and placing a kiss softly on top of both of the bandages. 

and when sukuna leaves, he can’t wait to beat it out of naoya again on monday. just to have you tenderly wrap him back up and put him back together after. 

--

next part linked here

an: anyways. me and my ooc sukuna agains the world. and ofc, i will divulge why suguru laughed. and what the lockscreen is. let me cook guys 😞

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lmk if you would liked to be added to the taglist <3

[suniix]

03 | miyamura x reader

synopsis | with the first day of school comes new opportunities, new friends, and new memories! though with new memories some old ones may begin to resurface

word count | 2k+

note | this’ll be the last fast update in a LONG while since we’re caught up to my most recent ao3 chap. if you ever see me mess up the reader’s pronouns please let me know! im trying to keep this book as gender neutral as i can :’)

previous | mlist | next

You stirred, turning over on your side to avoid the sun’s rays shining through your window. A few seconds later you shift again in an attempt to get comfortable and fall asleep. This happens again, again, and again.

Finally, you sit up angrily while blinking slowly, letting your eyes adjust to the brightness in your room. Turning to your right you find what caused a disturbance in your sleep; you had left your curtains open. You sighed, silently reminding yourself not to forget to shut the curtains anymore.

You slowly turn to your left to look at the clock hanging on your wall, only to become confused. According to your clock, the time was currently midnight, but the sun shining through your window begged to differ. Ah, I forgot to change the batteries.. You laid back down on your bed, reaching over to grab your phone and check the time.

“Eight am? Huh, I thought it was already noon..” You yawned and pulled your blanket over your body, slowly falling back into a peaceful slumber.

Suddenly, reality hit.

You flung your blanket off of you and jumped out of bed, scrambling to get changed into your school uniform. The sleepiness you felt earlier seemingly evaporated into thin air as you realized that today was the first day of school. You couldn’t believe such an important day completely slipped your mind.

After changing you rushed down the stairs to see your grandma placing your lunch down on the counter. Hearing your loud footsteps she turned to look at you and smiled, “I was just about to wake you up, did you sleep well?”

“No! I mean yes! But I think I’m going to be late!” You babbled, quickly stuffing your lunch into your backpack and thanking her for making it.

Your grandma watched as you ran to the front door in a panic trying to quickly slip on your shoes. She laughed, “Sweetie the school isn’t that far from here. You’re not late.”

It seemed as though her words went in through one ear and out the other because the moment you slipped on your shoes you shouted a quick ‘love you bye!’ and dashed out the door.

Your grandma shook her head and laughed. Your liveliness brought a warmth into her home that she hadn’t felt in awhile, and she gladly welcomed it.

You were beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, your grandma was right.

After jogging for a bit you started to notice other students wearing the same uniform as you. Unlike you though, they were walking as if they had all the time in the world. You stopped jogging after you got weird stares.

You quickly reached the school and followed a group of girls inside the building. Once inside you saw many students crowding around a board looking for their classes. Among the horde of people you noticed a guy with long black hair and glasses. You stared for a moment. He looks cute.. you think, but quickly shake your head. First the guy from the bakery and now this stranger? I think I have a type..

You look away from the cute stranger, not wanting another repeat of what happened with the cute baker. You do the same as the other students and begin scanning the board for your name. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of searching, you find your name. Y/N L/N.. class one! Hopefully someone will be nice enough to show me where that is..

“Oh, it’s you. Did you enjoy your coffee cake and cinnamon roll?”

Hearing the voice, you turn your head to look. There in front of you stood the cute boy you noticed earlier. Wait a second..

You give him a confused look before taking a cautious step back, “How did you know what I ate yesterday? Are you a stalker?”

He also takes a step back but fearfully shakes his head while raising his hands in defense. “N-No! You’ve got it all wrong! I was the one working at the register that day!”

Then it clicked. Now it made sense—the same long black hair, the same blue eyes, and the same gloomy attitude—that’s why you thought he was cute!

“Oh sorry! It’s just that you look so different outside of school I didn’t recognize you!”

He laughed. “Yea, I’ve been told.”

You laughed with him. “To answer your question, yes I did enjoy the coffee cake and cinnamon roll. To be honest, after eating them I almost went back to buy more because of how good they were..”

“You should have! Don’t be afraid to stop by for more. If you want, you can come over today and I’ll have something prepared for you.”

Your eyes lit up, how could he be so kind? “Yes please! I'll make sure to stop by today!” Now you couldn’t wait until the school day was over. You could already smell the warm scent of baked goods.

He nodded. “Alright, my name's Miyamura by the way.” He extended his hand to you.

You shook his hand enthusiastically, “Nice to meet you Miyamura! My name’s Y/N. I still can’t believe you also go to this school.” You laughed.

What the both of you didn’t notice was a brunette girl silently watching the whole interaction. She watched you two talk and laugh together as if you were old friends. Another girl walked up to her, her sleeve covering her mouth. “Hey Hori, who’s that talking to Miyamura?” The blonde girl asked her friend.

Hori shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before.”

Then again, Hori never acknowledged Miyamura before he showed up at her house, so maybe she has seen you before. She really didn’t know. I’ll ask Miyamura about it later.. she thought to herself. She turned to ask her purple haired friend what class he got put in when she noticed he had vanished from his previous spot. Where’d Tooru go? He was just here.. Hori’s eyes quickly scanned the area when she spotted him standing by Miyamura, using him as an armrest.

“Woa, what’s this? Is our Miyamura about to sneak off with someone?” Tooru smirked jokingly.

Miyamura was quick to shrug him off. “It’s not like that! I was just asking them what class they’re in..” Miyamura mumbled, not wanting to scare you off with Tooru’s unfunny joke.

Tooru’s eyes widened, a bit shocked that Miyamura would start a conversation with a random person. “Oh sweet, what class are you in?” He asked, looking at the board filled with names even though he didn’t know yours.

“I’m in class one!”

“Oh cool! That means you’re in the same class as us!” Tooru offered you a smile.

You smiled back; his happy attitude was rubbing off on you. You were glad that so far the day was going good. You had been nervous days leading up to this moment, but so far the people you’ve met have given you no reason to be nervous.

“Miyamura, Tooru, who are you guys talking to?”

Tooru and Miyamura look back and take a step to the side, revealing a beautiful girl with golden eyes and chestnut brown hair. Behind her stood a petite girl with light olive green hair. The brunette stared at you curiously before looking back to the boys, waiting for someone to answer.

“Oh! My name’s Y/N! I was just telling them what class I was in.” You explained shyly. Who would’ve thought talking to a pretty girl could be so intimidating.

Hori quirked a brow. “You guys all know each other?”

You all shake your heads. “I only know Miyamura.” You reply.

Miyamura nods in agreement. “Yea, we met..” He hesitated for a moment, “..a couple of days ago at my parent’s bakery. I was just asking them if they enjoyed the pastries.”

Hori seemingly let out a sigh of relief which went unnoticed by you, but not Miyamura. “Well it’s nice to meet you, my name’s Hori, this is Yuki, Tooru, and you’ve already met Miyamura.”

You bowed in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

They returned your gesture and you noticed Yuki staring at you curiously. “By any chance are you new here? I don’t remember seeing you around anywhere.”

You laughed nervously. “Yeah I am new here, was it that obvious?”

“Since they’re new, we should show them around! Right, Hori?” Tooru quickly turns his head to Hori, waiting for her approval.

Hori looked taken aback. “You don’t need my permission to do that. I don’t mind showing them around as long as we get to class on time.”

Tooru squealed happily and gently grabbed your shoulders, pushing you into the direction of a hallway. Yuki and Hori followed while Miyamura stayed behind, a mixture of sadness and confusion swirling around in his eyes at the familiar sight. It was only your first day and you had already made friends, just like you did years before. He didn’t know how to feel about seeing you after such a long time, especially now that it seems you don’t remember him the way he remembers you.

The final bell rang, signaling an end to the school day at long last. You stretched in your chair, trying to loosen up the stiff muscles you’ve obtained from sitting for so long. The excitement of the day has worn off and now you feel exhausted. Standing up from your chair you stretch again, this time hearing a couple of joints pop. Once I get home, I’m taking a nap..

“Oh, you’re leaving too Y/N?”

You turn and see Miyamura standing up from his chair and slipping his backpack on. You nod, doing the same as him. “Yea, I just wanna go home and sleep.”

“Since we’re both leaving I’ll walk you out.” Miyamura holds the door open for you and you thank him.

You turn to the lovely people you hope to soon call your friends and wave at them goodbye. The group happily returns your gesture, except for one. If you can recall correctly her name was Hori. Her smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and she seemed tired. You don’t judge her for it though, maybe she also felt the day was draining.

After the two of you leave, Hori remains looking at the door with a forlorn expression. Yuki notices and nudges her, silently asking her friend what was wrong.

“I know Miyamura said they just met, but.. I can’t help but worry..” Hori mumbled.

Yuki leaned on her hand, letting out a hum of understandment. Despite Hori not saying it out loud, it was obvious she was beginning to like Miyamura more than a friend. The two always hung out after school and Miyamura was glued to Hori’s side most of the school day. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Miyamura was probably just being polite since they were leaving at the same time.” Yuki tried to reassure her friend, but it seemed her words fell on deaf ears as Hori’s head fell hard on the table, startling a few people that remained in the class.

But he usually walks home with me.. Hori sighed. The way he looked at you was more than a stranger he just met. He looked at you like he was relieved to finally see you, as if he had been missing you for years. Hori wondered if you two were truly strangers.

You walk out the school gate with Miyamura by your side. The sun was in the golden hour stage, giving everything its light touched a soft glowing look. Miyamura was no exception. The golden light made his black hair look almost brown and his long eyelashes made his blue eyes stand out. Somehow the lighting seemed to make him even more attractive.

“Is there something on my face?”

You jumped at the sound of his voice. Your face heated up once you realized you were caught staring, again. At this point he probably thinks I’m a weirdo.. you silently cry. “No! I was just.. admiring your lashes! They’re very long, I’m jealous!” You blurt out, hoping that he’d believe your half lie.

He coughed and quickly covered his mouth with his hand. When he didn’t stop coughing you began to pat his back, worried that he was actually choking. When he stopped coughing he cleared his throat. “T-Thank you, you’re actually not the first to tell me that.” He said softly, blush dusting his cheeks.

“Oh? Who else has told you?”

“It was Hori.”

Mm.. I’m guessing they’re close then? You thought to yourself, squinting to see his lashes. She must’ve gotten really close to his face in order to see, I wonder if they’re together.. You really hope that wasn’t the case or else walking with him alone would make you seem like you were trying to get in between them.

“Hori seemed really tired when we left. I hope she’s ok.”

Miyamura hesitated for a moment, thinking about what he should say. He had an idea as to why she seemed tired, but he also knew how secretive she was with her life outside of school, so he couldn’t go into too much detail. “She just has a lot on her plate. She helps the student council out even though she’s not a part of it.” He told you.

“Ah, I see.” You let out a sigh of relief. So she wasn’t upset about Miyamura walking home with me, she’s so kind for helping the student council..

The rest of the walk home was spent in a comfortable silence. Miyamura silently walked by your side while you curiously looked at everything around you. At some point you pass by a park. It looked relatively empty, excluding the small family of ducks that swam around in the small pond. You make a mental note to check it out later.

At some point the two of you come across a road that splits. Thinking that this is the end of your walk together, you turn to tell Miyamura goodbye, but he continues to walk. “Wait a minute,” You pause, “you live in that direction?”

“Mm? Oh yea, I live not too far from the bakery.”

You were a bit surprised, but didn’t let it show on your face. “Seriously? Me too! Your bakery is just a couple of blocks away from my house! And don’t you think that I forgot what you told me earlier! I’m still expecting that treat you promised!”

He laughed, “I haven’t forgotten either, don't worry. I’ll be stopping by my house first though so it might take awhile for it to be prepared.”

The rest of the walk home was spent chatting about the sweets he knew how to bake. You found out his mom actually owned the bakery and he planned on continuing to work there even after high school. You told him you’d be their number one customer.

The familiar building you’ve come to call home soon comes up in your view and you can’t help but smile, already imagining how comfortable your bed would feel surrounded by your soft blankets. You reach your house and stop along with Miyamura. You give a small wave, “Well, this is me. See you later!”

“Hold on, you live here?”

Confused, you nod. Miyamura is shocked for a moment, but a small smile begins to grow on his face. “I actually live in the apartment building right next to you.” He points to the building on the left side of your home.

You couldn’t believe it. First you see him at the bakery, next you see him at school and in the same class as you, and now you find out he’s your neighbor.

“Woa.. the world really is small..” You mumble.

thank you for reading till the end! :D

taglist | @swtstrwbrri @aizawa-hatake

[luxuriq]

A Flower Frozen, His » Ch. 3 | Sub-Zero (Bi-Han)

[ 18+, minors DNI ; dom/sub, degradation, rough, third pov ]

Summary: An elite brothel, The Red Orchid, has sent six girls to their newest client: the Lin Kuei, an old warrior clan. But the brothel is just a front for a highly secretive group of spies, and their objective might be more than simply offering entertainment for the warriors: their target none other than the Grandmaster himself. How will the girls - especially their leader, codenamed Iris - navigate their dangerous mission, and what will happen if they get caught?

→ Reader character is named for clarity reasons, but it's still a reader character, not an OC.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | ...

Ch. 3 words: 2083

A/N: A preview of what is to come ... (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

Chapter 3

This was a test; Iris could tell that much. The Grandmaster was giving them one chance to prove themselves. If they did, then getting into his chambers – getting to know him would become a lot easier.

All the girls were already booked for the day, but Grandmaster’s wishes were a priority. Iris chose Peony to do the job. She was a gentle looking young woman, with a pretty adventurous side. If anyone was going to be able to handle Bi-Han, it was going to be her.

“Just do whatever he says. He likes to show off his power,” Iris was giving Peony some last-minute instructions. “And definitely call him Grandmaster. I think he likes it.”

They were in the middle of getting ready for a visit to Grandmaster’s chambers: a touch of colour on the eyelids, a subtle stain of lipstick, a drop of the sweetest perfume on the wrists and ankles.

Peony giggled, “Sounds like fun. I’ll do my best, Boss.”

“Thank you,” Iris gave her an encouraging smile and moved to do Peony’s hair. “Don’t think too much about Ice Blue. Just focus on giving him the best time of his life.”

“I always aim for that,” Peony said with a proud smile.

Iris deftly braided Peony’s hair – a simple hairstyle with none of their usual accessories. There was a reason for it. Iris didn’t want Bi-Han to crush them when he grabbed Peony’s hair and manhandled her in whatever way he wanted. Just the thought of what had happened yesterday made her cheeks warm up.

They were ready just on time. Since Peony didn’t know where to go, Iris led the way to the Grandmaster’s chambers. The thought of seeing him again … Iris took a deep breath. She needed to focus.

She knocked on the door. They did not have to wait long before the door swung open, revealing an imposing figure of the Lin Kuei’s Grandmaster. He was wearing his usual blue robes, the sleeveless top showing off his impressive muscular arms when he crossed them over his chest.

“Grandmaster,” Iris said and both her and Peony bowed low.

“Whore handler,” Bi-Han mocked the way she greeted him.

“This is Peony. She will be the one entertaining you today,” Iris straightened back up, a polite smile playing on her lips despite Bi-Han’s previous jab.

“I’m at your service, Grandmaster,” Peony added softly.

Bi-Han regarded them for a moment and then took a step to the side. He beckoned Peony to come in.

“Very well then, I will leave you in Peony’s capable hands …” she trailed off as he cocked an eyebrow. “I mean, I will leave Peony in your capable hands. Please enjoy yourself.”

She was about to turn on her heel and scurry away, but his commanding voice made her stop in her tracks.

“Where do you think you’re going, whore handler?”

“B-Back to my chambers,” she stuttered.

“Have I dismissed you yet?” his voice was ice cold, but she felt warm all over.

“No … Grandmaster.”

“You leave only after I tell you to. Now get inside,” he commanded.

A million thoughts swirled in her mind as she slowly took a step past Bi-Han and into a rather cozy sitting area slash office. He did not strike her as a man who liked to share. Was he going to make Peony watch? Or was he going to take one and then immediately the other? The questions going through her head mixed with flashes of yesterday’s events. At the memory of his cold touch, her heart skipped a beat.

Peony was standing in the middle of the room near a low coffee table and a few plush chairs, watching Iris enter with interest. The Red Orchid girls were usually entertaining solo, but doing a group activity wasn’t unheard of. The handler usually wasn’t involved, however.

Iris stopped a few steps into the room, not knowing where exactly the Grandmaster wanted her. He followed close behind her, swiftly passing her when she stopped, and walked over to Peony. The doors closed behind him.

“Get on your knees,” Bi-Han ordered the girl.

Peony immediately dropped down onto her knees, keeping eye-contact with the Grandmaster through her eyelashes. Iris only stared at the scene unfolding in front of her.

Bi-Han took another step closer to Peony. She would only need to lean in a little and her face would’ve been pressed against his crotch. The Grandmaster fiddled with his pants for a moment before pulling out his flaccid cock.

Peony’s face lit up with excitement, while Iris swallowed a lump forming in her throat.

“Show your Mistress how to properly suck a dick, whore,” Bi-Han smirked at the girl in front of him, completely ignoring Iris.

He grabbed Peony’s hair and yanked her head back. She eagerly parted her lips and stuck out her tongue. Bi-Han started pumping his cock. As it grew harder, he pressed the tip against Peony’s tongue. She did not attempt to lick it or lean forward to take it in her mouth – not that she could even do the latter, with Bi-Han’s iron grip in her hair, holding her in place.

Iris shifted her weight from one foot to another. She could still remember the slightly salty taste of the Grandmaster’s dick from yesterday, and her mouth watered a little. She wondered if she’ll get her turn today.

Bi-Han didn’t give Peony any kind of a warning. As soon as his dick grew to its full size, he thrust his hips forward, the head gliding up Peony’s tongue and ramming into her mouth. Iris watched, wide-eyed, as more than half of Bi-Han’s cock disappeared in Peony’s mouth, without any signs of discomfort on the latter’s part.

He held his hips there, the hand in Peony’s hair keeping her from backing away. Peony’s eyes started watering a little, her cheeks reddening.

Iris bit her lip. Watching them was mesmerizing.

Bi-Han finally pulled Peony off his dick, saliva spilling down her chin. She gasped for air, breathing deeply. He did not let go off her hair.

“Good,” he said cooly.

One word. Barely a praise. Almost spoken like an insult. Iris wished he had said it to her.

“Thank you, Grandmaster,” Peony squeaked, her mouth hanging open again, asking for more.

Bi-Han was quick to oblige. He pushed his dick into Peony’s mouth just as ruthlessly as before, immediately setting a punishing pace. A couple of tears formed in the corner of Peony’s eyes, but not once did she ask him to stop or slow down. The obscene noises coming from her wet mouth made Iris shift in her spot by the door. She could feel her own arousal pooling between her legs.

The Grandmaster didn’t spare Iris a glance, focusing solely on Peony. She was taking him almost to the base of his cock, saliva generously drooling down her chin. He was repeatedly hitting the back of her throat, but she obediently took it all.

“At least you’re not completely useless,” he growled. “Touch yourself.”

Peony didn’t have to be told twice. Her hand immediately moved between her legs and started rubbing quick, tight circles.

Iris desperately wanted to do the same. The tension in her lower stomach was coiling – the itch between her legs demanding attention. However, she remained still, frozen, standing by the door, only an observer.

Bi-Han’s thrusts were growing more erratic by the second. His left hand remained in Peony’s hair through it all, while the other moved to hold her head up by the chin. He grunted deeply.

A wave of arousal hit Iris at the sound of his pleasure.

Bi-Han’s hips stilled; his cock pushed in all the way. Iris could see him closing his eyes for several seconds as he reached his climax, spilling deep into Peony’s throat. Another low grunt escaped his lips as he watched Peony through half-lidded eyes. With his fingers on her chin, he could feel every time she swallowed his essence, drinking everything he had given her.

He pulled out, a string of saliva mixed with his cum connecting him to Peony’s lips. Peony made a show of licking her lips and then opened her mouth, proudly showing him that she had swallowed everything.

“What do you say, whore?” Bi-Han growled.

“Thank you, Grandmaster,” Peony beamed.

Iris felt ashamed of watching another person climax like that, without being involved. She felt ashamed for being aroused out of her mind, probably more than she’d ever been before; ashamed that she was an intruder and that she enjoyed it. But the feeling of shame only furthered her arousal – and that was both shameful and arousing. It was a vicious cycle. She was going mad with desire.

Bi-Han didn’t give Peony any time to rest. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her onto her feet. Iris’ heart skipped a beat in anticipation.

The Grandmaster brought Peony to the side of the room and bent her over a desk. He pulled up the skirt of her dress and folded it over her back. Peony turned her head back and watched over her shoulder as he gave his girthy cock a few quick pumps. She was biting her lower lip, eyes sparkling in excitement.

Iris’ knees started feeling a bit wobbly. She could not believe what she was seeing. This was a new territory for her as Bi-Han only fucked her mouth yesterday.

Bi-Han grabbed Peony’s hip as he guided his cock to her glistening pussy. He pressed the tip against her swollen lower lips, slowly applying pressure until he sank into her. A long moan spilled from Peony’s lips as he split her walls, growing louder the deeper he reached.

When he was fully sheathed, he paused momentarily. Peony was still watching him over her shoulder, her eyes half closed, lips parted in a decadent expression. With a quick movement, Bi-Han grabbed the back of her head and pushed her down, her cheek now pressed against the desk. Then he lifted one of her legs, showing Iris just how greedily Peony’s pussy was swallowing up his cock.

Peony’s face was hidden by her arm. In that moment, she was just an unnamed girl, an object of pleasure, anyone. In that moment, she could’ve been Iris, pierced by Grandmaster’s thick cock, held in place by his tight grip, made only to give him pleasure in whatever way he desired. Iris squeezed her thighs together, the scene of her in Peony’s place in her mind. Her whole body was burning up. She needed something, she needed him, she needed him so bad.

Similarly to before, Bi-Han started moving with a ruthless pace. He kept Peony’s leg up, his fingers digging into her thigh enough to leave marks, and Iris could see just how deep he was thrusting. Peony was a mewling mess in a matter of seconds. The noises in the room were outright obscene.

Bi-Han kept thrusting at his punishing pace without faltering for what felt like … Iris completely lost track of time. It could’ve been seconds or hours. The scene in front of her was mesmerizing: the muscles in his arms tensing as he kept his grip on Peony’s body; a bead of sweat forming on his temples; another strand of hair falling onto his forehead.

“Your whore is safe,” he groaned, “right, whore handler?”

He looked up and for the first time since entering this room, they’ve locked eyes. Dark. Cold. Scorching. Iris was not ready for the sheer intensity of his gaze. Hunger, desire, authority – consumed her all at once, she was spiralling, she was lost. His devouring gaze almost made her orgasm on the spot.

“She … is,” she heard herself saying.

Did he really give her a choice about where he should finish? Was this a test? What did this answer mean for her?

The perfect rhythm of Bi-Han’s thrusts stuttered. He let go off Peony’s legs and grabbed her hips with both hands instead, holding her close. He gritted his teeth. Iris could not take it anymore.

She hasn’t been given permission to leave yet, but she was willing to risk the Grandmaster’s wrath. Just before the doors closed behind her, she could hear Bi-Han’s deep grunt and she tried not to think about his thick cum filling up Peony’s insides.

Her panties were completely soaked as she practically ran down the hallway, away from the Grandmaster’s chambers. It was going to be a long, lonely night for her.

❀

« Previous chapter | Next chapter »

[kidstemplatte]

terzo w/ a goth daughter hcs

i don’t know where i got this idea from but i’m obsessed with it. in this fic, the reader is referred to as the other parent. without further ado, this is terzo with a goth teenage daughter. (her name is violetta, she’s mentioned in a previous fic i posted) i hope you enjoy!!🦇🖤

-of course this girl ended up goth. it would be concerning if she didn’t. she was raised in a satanic church. her dad is the lead singer of a devil-worshipping rock band and paints himself like the skull emoji every day for a living.

-violetta was raised on classic rock. of course, she grew up hearing other things, but the importance of rock was preached at her by her papa.

-she’s got super cool taste even without him though.

-sometimes violetta ends up shocking HIM with stuff she listens to.

-she ends up discovering more intense, heavy stuff he didn’t play for her as a kid but still enjoyed privately.

“how- how did you find this band?”

“i’m cooler than you think i am, dad.”

“that’s my girl.”

-i feel like terzo doesn’t like electronic music, but violetta does. stuff like crystal castles. (great music, check it out!)

-so if she gets in the car and starts playing something he doesn’t like, he playfully bullies her for it.

“ay, what is this computer crap?”

“oh, i’m sorry, do you want me to play some of your old man music?” she says with a wicked smirk.

-if they ever get in fights, (which they do, they’re both stubborn as mules, though terzo will swear she got it from you…) violetta goes to her room and will BLAST music. like, BLAST. if she’s really mad, she’ll play something he doesn’t like.

-and if she’s R E A L L Y mad…

-she’ll play worship music. as in jesus worship music.

-you have to run to her room and tell her to stop before her father leaves her as an offering for satan.

-violetta does the coolest tradgoth makeup.

-the first time she wore it outside her room, terzo had many mixed emotions. two voices in his head:

“that’s my daughter!! la mia stellina! she doesn’t need makeup to be beautiful! her precious face is gone!”

and:

“hell yeah, that’s my daughter!”

-lets her practice makeup on him

-sometimes she’ll do his face paint and it’ll look fucking AWESOME, he wears it with pride

-very encouraging of her talents and passions.

-i can totally imagine her being into all kinds of art. music, drawing, painting, photography, design, makeup of course, writing, everything.

-she has a very distinct dark aesthetic she goes for when she makes art

-terzo is so blown away by her creativity. always wants to see what she’s working on, even when she says, “go away, dad!”

“what are you drawing?”

“what’s that song?”

“is that a poem? can i read it?”

-her fashion is totally awesome and terzo will always buy her random goth jewelry or accessories he finds that remind him of her. she is very spoiled.

-if violetta ends up going to goth clubs or events, sneaking out of the house, terzo totally catches on. he was similar as well.

-she’ll carefully close the door on her way in, letting out a small sigh of relief, thinking she made it back safe.

-until she turns around and sees her father nonchalantly sitting in a chair, wine glass in one hand, book in the other.

-“how was the party, violetta?”

-she’s silent.

-“and the one yesterday? and the one last weekend? and the one the weekend before that? there was even one on a tuesday. who goes to the club on a tuesday?”

-this man has TOTALLY been to a club on a tuesday. but he would never say that to his daughter

-no amount of face paint could cover the look on her face in that moment.

-boy, she was in for a stern lecture and a rough night.

[canirove]

I don’t like you, Mason Mount | Chapter 7

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Excuse me, can you help me with... Daniela?"

"Mason?" I say, the books on my arms almost falling to the floor. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I work here. I thought I had told you about it."

"Yes, you did. But you didn’t say where exactly."

"Oh, so my sister didn’t tell you about it when she also told you about our holidays?"

"I'm sorry about that."

"Whatever" I say. After confessing all my feelings for Mason and crying my eyes out, Monica also confessed that she had told him about Portugal and the restaurant, that she had convinced him to take his family there. Us bumping into each other, hadn't been a coincidence. She had planned it all, and look how it ended.

"I promise this has been just a coincidence. I was doing a Nike event at their shop, and my agent told me there was a bookshop close by."

"So that's why all those teenage girls were queueing when I arrived earlier. They were there for you."

"Yeah" he smiles, that dimple of his showing and making me feel something on my stomach. Something I hadn't felt for the past six months. But no. That's not it. I’m over him and this is just that I am hungry. I didn't eat much for breakfast, and that's what I'm feeling. Nothing else. "So, can you help me find some books or not?"

"I guess I can" I sigh, putting the ones I was holding back where they belong. "What do you need?"

"Something for my nephew and my nieces. They are all coming over for Christmas."

"How old were they? I know you told me but I can’t remember."

"Six, five and four."

"What do they like?"

"The three of them are obsessed with dinosaurs for some reason. Anything Disney too. And they love painting, they could be entertained with that for hours."

"Ok, follow me."

"How long have you been working here?" Mason asks while we move through the shop.

"A couple of years."

"And do you like it?"

"I do, yes. I've always loved books, and for years I said I wanted to open my own bookshop with maybe a coffee shop and some cats."

"You never mentioned it when we talked. Only that you loved cats" he chuckles.

"I am a cat lady, yes. Is there a problem with that?" I say, giving him a book.

"No, not all. It actually fits you. Liking cats, I mean. You are like them."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... They look all soft on the outside but can bite, and you are the opposite. You look like you can bite, but are a softie on the inside. And then you also have some issues trusting people when you first meet them, but if someone manages to get through all that and earn your trust, you happen to be the loveliest person. There will be moments when you will pull out your claws to defend yourself because that's just who you are, but when you love someone, you do it unconditionally."

"That's... That's..." That's true. That's me. He's gotten it right. How can he know me so well?

"Lost your words? Maybe because I'm right?" he asks with a cheeky smile.

"No, I have not lost them. And no, you aren't right."

"The colour of your face says otherwise."

"Do you want me to call one of my coworkers to help you with this? I think there is a girl who happens to like you, God knows why."

"There is no need, I'll behave."

"You better" I say, putting two more books on his arms.

"More?" he asks.

"Oh, c'mon Mount. They are for your family and you have the money to pay for them. Better waste it on this that on whatever you are wearing right now."

"Oh, I had missed hearing you say that you hate my clothes" he laughs.

"Your girlfriend doesn't do it?"

"She doesn't" he says, his smile disappearing from his face.

"Well, it was expected. She's dating you, you have to be blind to do it."

"Yeah" he murmurs.

"Everything ok?"

"Yes, don't worry. More books?"

"More books" I say, moving to another bookcase, but still thinking about how his face changed when I mentioned his girlfriend.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"They are gonna love them. Thank you very much, Daniela."

"Just doing my job" I say while I finish wrapping the last book.

"How is your family doing? I haven't asked."

"Good, good. Same as always. Though I think Lola has a new crush."

"She doesn't like me anymore?"

"She still does, but I think she currently likes your bff a lot more. And I don't blame her, he's hot."

"My bff? Do you mean Dec?"

"Yep."

"Oh, wow. The betrayal. From both of you."

"Sorry" I shrug. "But can I... Can I ask you a favour?"

"Wait, wait, wait. You... Are asking me... A favour? It's a Christmas miracle!" he laughs.

"Shut up, Mount. It's for Lola, not me."

"Ok, I'm listening."

"I've been looking for tickets for your Boxing Day game everywhere because it is against West Ham, but they are expensive as hell. Could you..."

"Get you some?" he asks with a stupid grin.

"Yes."

"I can. But on one condition."

"What" I say, rolling my eyes.

"You have to come to the game. Maybe wear my shirt if you still have it."

"I still have it."

"You do?"

"Yeah. It's somewhere at the back of my wardrobe, but I still have it."

"Great. Then you have to come to the game and wear it."

"Is it necessary?"

"It is. Do we have a deal?" he says, offering me his hand.

"I guess we do" I say, shaking it and feeling goosebumps all over my arm. But I'm getting goosebumps because I'm cold. Someone opened the door, and this reaction is because the cold came in. Nothing else.

"I'll text you when I get them."

"You still have my number?" I ask. "I thought that after what happened at the restaurant..."

"I tried do delete it more than once, but... I don't know" he shrugs. "I just couldn't do it. What about you?"

"Uh?"

"Do you still have my number."

"I do" I confess. I've also tried to delete it a few times, but I haven't been able to. There was something stopping me.

"Mason, it's time to go" a man says behind him.

"Yes, yes. Thank you very much for your help, I'll keep you updated about the tickets."

"Thank you" I say.

"Merry Christmas, Daniela."

"Merry Christmas, Mason."

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Catalyst

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Catalyst Word Count: 2823 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a previous history in American law enforcement. Warnings: slow-burn romance, mention of crime scene and interrogation, and some more solid fluff Spoilers: none

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is one of six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer: the catalyst of newfound feelings.

Full story | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5  | Part 6

The next time you dumbfounded him, he almost kissed you.

Ever since you had joined the BAU, you and Spencer had alway had a sweet partnership. But after that night in the office, you had become inseparable. Best friends, to put simply. You stayed late at the office to keep each other company, brought each other coffee and treats, spent free days checking out the new films playing in the cinema.

You had inside jokes, and fought like an old, married couple - a fact the team loved to bring up whenever possible. But you liked it like that. Spencer was your person, and you were his.

And as much as he wowed you everyday, you managed to surprise him on occasions, too.

You were both paired up to interrogate a suspect. You personally didn't believe she was the killer, but Spencer didn't like to base anything from solely his gut. In other words, he was skeptical.

'I didn't kill those women,' your suspect said. 'And even if wanted to kill them, it would be for something more worthwhile than a stupid role.'

'Jealously isn't as far-fetched a reason to kill as you may believe,' Spencer stated to her. 'Particularly in women, the feeling of being threatened or in danger of losing something important to them brings out almost a maternal instinct to protect what they believe to be is theirs.'

'You think all actresses are that low? That shallow?' The young woman was pretty, but her face scrunched up in an ugly manner at the insinuation.

'He doesn't think that at all,' you interjected. 'In fact, he quite likes actresses, don't you buddy?'

Spencer gave you a side eye to which you smiled sickly-sweetly at in return. You were never going to let the Lila fling down any time soon.

You looked back at the young woman, your face returning to empathetic, concerned. She had a wall up, she was wearing a mask. If you wanted answers out of her, you needed to connect with her.

You leaned forward on the table, positioning yourself in front of Spencer so all her focus was on you.

'Anna,' you said softly, like you were speaking to a friend. 'I know you didn't do it. You're different than all those other girls right? You've worked hard to get where you are. Small town girl wanting to make a name for herself in an industry that can be ruthless and heartless as the killer that's still out there. You are classically trained, by-the-book, no shortcuts. I bet you started on the stage of your elementary school, landing the lead role.'

The young woman looked at you with skepticism for a moment, then you saw a crack in her mask as she nodded. 'I was Mary in the Christmas production. But it wasn't until high school when we preformed Shakespeare's The Tempest that I knew this was what I wanted to do with my life.'

Spencer noticed your smile now, how it lifted in a manner that sung of melancholy and fondness.

'"We are such stuff as dreams are made on.",' you said whimsically, and Spencer noted a familiarity that had the words rolling off your tongue with ease. Like it was muscle memory.

'Such a beautiful line, right?' the young woman asked.

'Yes, but, when translated into our modern English, it is quite sad really.' You make eye contact with the young woman and hoped she saw the understanding and slight desperation in your eyes. 'It means that life is an illusion, and a fleeting one at that. I don't necessarily believe in the first part of that, but it is true that life is fleeting. So before you end up the next aspiring actress in our morgue, you've got to tell us everything you know.'

The rest of the interrogation went smoothly. Honestly, it was the easiest one Spencer had ever sat in before. And all the while he had just sat there in awe of you.

'I didn't know you read Shakespeare,' he said randomly as they drove together in a local police SUV to meet with the rest of the team at the new suspect's house.

You scoffed. 'See that's the biggest misconception of Shakespeare. That it can only be read. In fact, it actually shouldn't be just read. It needs to be performed.'

Amusement danced upon Spencer's lips. 'Are you saying you were in a Shakespearean play? Which one? Actually, let me guess. Romeo and Juliet.'

'That's a cliche.'

'Twelfth Night? How about Taming of the Shrew?'

'Why do you want to know so badly?'

'Because I...' It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't quite know why he wanted to know. Only that he knows everything and you were his best friend and he didn't know something about you.

You spared him a sympathetic smile from the driver's seat before returning your eyes to the road. 'If you must know... it was actually The Tempest. It was my high school's production, too. And as much as he irritates me, I grew fascinated with Shakespeare's work after that. It even prompted me to do a unit or two in Shakespearean literature and performance during my uni days.'

You allowed yourself to slip back in time a little to those days, that melancholy and fondness finding its way back into your smile, Spencer noticed.

'Outside of Shakespeare though, I'll admit... I was a theatre kid.'

'No way!' Spencer exclaimed. 'You?'

'Why is it so unbelievable that I used to dress up and spout lines that no one really understood?' you asked, but you weren't offended. Simply amused that you seemed to have stunned the (until now) un-stunnable Dr. Spencer Reid.

'Because... it's just so left of field from anyone else in the team.'

'And is that a bad thing?'

'...not at all,' he said after a moment, and then proceeded to drop the matter entirely. Spencer Reid never forgets anything, he couldn't forget, not with his eidetic memory. But he made extra special care to file that little fact about you away for now.

A few days after returning home from wrapping that case up, you came into work to find your coffee already made on your desk, and beside it was an envelope. Curious, you swiftly opened the envelope and gasped with pure surprise at what you found.

'I thought you might like them,' Spencer said as he approached you, his own coffee in hand. 'The ticket vendor said they were the best seats in the house.'

'Oh my God, Spencer!' You couldn't help yourself, you leapt onto the gangly man like a frog and held him tighter than you'd ever hugged someone before, avoiding spilling Spencer's coffee. You were so excited you even smacked a fat, grateful kiss on his unsuspecting cheek before letting him go. 'Tickets to ASC's production of The Tempest?! How did you even get these, I was told they were all gone.'

'Believe it or not, I have connections everywhere,' Spencer answered a bit too vaguely but you didn't care. 'Even in areas that aren't of my particular expertise. I figured you and a friend could go enjoy it before it finishes up.'

'You mean you're not coming?'

Spencer tried not to read into it too much, but he swore he heard a little hiccup in your question, like you were upset. 'W-Well, I, I, uh, didn't want to assume anything. I mean, y-you might want to take JJ, or Emily-

'Spencer.' It was ridiculous how easy he listened when you said his name, how he dropped everything to listen to what you had to say whenever you did. And his heart faltered when he made eye contact with you and saw joy and hope lighting up your eyes. 'Would you like to come to the show with me?'

And it wasn't any wonder, then, that he replied without hesitation, 'Y-Yeah! All right, s-sure. Would love to.'

'Amazing!' Spencer once again had to juggle his coffee and you as you squeezed all the air out of him in another bone-crushing hug. 'Spencer Reid, you have just made my day.'

It was a week later and the night of the performance. You drove yourself and Spencer two and a half hours straight from Quantico down to Staunton to the American Shakespeare Centre, reciting and recalling your favourite Shakespearean moments the whole trip.

Spencer made the extreme effort to look presentable, pulling out a nice suit set, even replacing his usual casual sneakers with some shiny boots. His hair was slicked back out of his face, with only the slightest stubble on his chin and upper lip.

When you picked him up, you said he looked handsome. He never cared much for his appearance, but that comment warmed his heart slightly, made him sit more upright in his seat.

Once you pulled up and got out of the car, he finally saw you in all your glory. A navy blue dress clung to your frame beautifully; kitten heels cradled your feet as you walked up the stairs to the theatre's entrance; your jewellery brought out the (e/c) in your eyes, even further accentuated by your simple makeup and hair.

Spencer has met Nobel price winners, attorney generals, even spoken with the most psychotic people humanity has to offer. And yet there you stood - ethereal, angelic, striking him silent with just your presence.

'You coming, Boy Wonder?'

You'd reached the top the stairs without him moving a muscle. Embarrassed, he tried to cover it up with a cough as he scrambled to catch up with you. 'Boy Wonder? Where did that come from?'

You shrugged playfully as you hooked your arm through his. 'Just seemed appropriate.'

'I'm twenty-seven, (y/n). I'm hardly a boy.'

'Oh, so would you prefer I call you Batman?'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'I didn't know you liked DC comics.'

'There's a lot you still don't know about me, Spencer Reid,' you answered, handing over your tickets to the ticket vendor at the door. 'Like how I've always preferred Robin over Batman, anyway.'

You quickly found your seats, and Spencer tried not to acknowledge how tight-knit the seats were pressed together. His thigh pressed lightly against your own, and he couldn't tell if he hated or liked the feeling that suddenly sprouted in his gut.

It distracted him so much that instead of watching the performance, he looked at you. How you reacted to each sonnet, to the entrance of new characters, to the costuming and the music and emotion that filled the room with every word spoken. He watched it all, your joy, your love. Your heart was on your face, and it struck something new and unexplored inside him.

You cried at one point, and physical touch wasn't his forte, but he intertwined his fingers with yours and gave them a reassuring squeeze that he was there. You'd turned to him briefly and nodded, showing that you understood and that you were grateful.

You didn't let go of his hand for the rest of the show.

'Wow,' you breathed out as you exited the theatre, the performance finally done. 'That was...'

'Yeah. I feel the same,' Spencer finished, his hands shoved into his pockets as they walked down the stairs towards the carpark. His hand still burned from your touch, and that unsure feeling in his gut still remained.

'It was just so... magical.'

'I would say impressive, but magical works too, I guess.'

'Says the guy who still goes trick-or-treating on Halloween and believes in ghosts. Don't tell me you don't believe in the supernatural now.'

'I'm not saying I don't believe. I'm just saying that it's impressive that they were able to make fantastical magic seem slightly realistic.'

You playfully shove him, causing you both to fall into laughter. The two different melodies mixing together made Spencer feel lighter than he'd felt in a while. This was different to when you usually hung out. This time, there was no case, no team, nothing but yourselves to worry about.

'It doesn't matter, anyways,' you said, stopping on the steps suddenly. Spencer went down one more before stopping too. You smiled gratefully at him. It was a cool, autumn night, cool enough that your breath danced like ghosts in front of you as you spoke. 'Thank you, Spence. This was a wonderful night. You didn't have to do this.'

'I know,' he said, and it startled him how quiet and soft his voice was. 'I just... I just wanted you to enjoy the stuff you love. You deserve to enjoy the stuff you love.'

His acute eyes fell to your shoulders and noticed the slight shake in them. 'Here.' He wasted no time pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling it tight to capture the warmth.

You gratefully held onto the jacket, the warmth it captured seeping into your eyes. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer,' you said, your words dancing in between you two.

He was only the step down now, making you two eye level with one another. He was so close he could see himself in your eyes. He wondered if you could see yourself in his.

'Am I?' he asked, his breath mixing with yours.

'Yeah...'

He felt your warmth, and he suddenly decided that he liked the feeling in his gut. The one that had been driving him crazy all night. The one that had an iron grip on his mind, his heart. The one that pulled him closer to you, to your lips.

His eyes were almost closed and his lips almost on yours. You didn't back away - you didn't want to back away you realised. No matter how hard your heart pounded in your chest. No matter if he was your best friend.

So you leaned in too, and you could just feel the stars and planets align as you tasted his breath-

The front of your heel slipped on the edge of the step, sending you flying forwards into Spencer's chest. His reflexes had improved immensely since joining the BAU, and so he managed to grab hold of you and hold himself up before your momentum could send you both tumbling down the remaining stairs.

You both breathed in heavy gulps of air, steadying both your hearts from what could've happened.

'Nice catch,' you said after a moment, loosening your grip on Spencer only a little.

'Thanks.' He didn't know where to look. You, the ground, his surroundings. It all just felt muddled, as if his whole world had been tilted on its axis.

In a sense, it had.

But he felt your gaze, and he couldn't deny your eyes so he looked at you also. You eyes were blown wide, and the slight catch in your breath had him second guessing himself. Maybe he'd read you wrong after all. He'd never been wrong before, but there was always a first time for everything, he figured.

'(Y/n), look, I-'

Before he could attempt to salvage himself, the irritating ring of his phone went off, breaking the glass dome of solitude you'd' forged together with nothing but words and air.

This forced you apart, awkwardly so, as Spencer readjusted you on his step before letting you go completely and fishing his phone out of his pant pocket. He checked the ID caller: Hotch.

He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear. 'Hotch, what's up?'

'New case,' the unit chief answered without pleasantries. 'I know we're all meant to be off for the weekend but this one is important.'

'Where is it and we'll be there.'

'You're with (Y/n), right? In Staunton?'

'Yeah, why?'

'Head to the local police. We'll meet you there. That's where the case is.'

'Okay. Gotcha.'

Hotch ended the call and then it was just him and you once more. Although instead of the air feeling freeing and warming, Spencer couldn't seem to get enough in his lungs. It was like he was suffocating, having to face you again.

So he slipped into work mode, keeping Hotch's urgency and the new case in the forefront of his mind. 'New case. Here in Staunton. Hotch wants us to head down to the police and meet them there.'

'Right.' You seemed to think the same as him - it's probably why you were best friends to begin with - as the ethereal light in your eyes dimmed with the severity of the new situation. Without another word, you both bee-lined for the car, jumped in, and made your way to the local police station.

But for the rest of the case, Spencer couldn't help but think about that moment with you on the steps. He'd kissed before, of course, even dabbled in flirting despite how little he knew about the craft. He'd never imagined he'd attempt it all on you, however. Not even in his wildest dreams.

[moriartyluver]

FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER XXIII

'IS THIS THE TEXTBOOK I SAW WILLIAM READING?' (Name) asked herself as she looked through the library book. She had seen her rival take out this book from the British library. It was a mathematics textbook that she was certain he had used to beat her on the previous exam. The girl had felt distracted by her own issues lately, but now she had the chance to focus on her studies once more. 

The library was quite empty, it was late at night after all. She would have asked her rival to accompany her to the library as usual, but she didn't have the chance after being bombarded with questions from Theodore's friends as to where he may have been. 

(Name) knew where he was though she feigned innocence

Hell. 

As she looked through the book, a piece of paper had fallen out onto the ground. A little note which she opened, recognising the handwriting instantly. 

"I knew you'd come looking for this textbook, (name). You and I haven't spoken much recently, likely because you keep 'forgetting' about meeting with me. How about we have a meal together after Friday's lecture?

~ W. J.M ( ◠‿◠ )" 

She rolled her eyes, putting the note in her skirt pocket and shutting the textbook. The doors of the library had swung open, a gasp could be heard amongst the silence of the library, the sounds of loud footsteps were approaching the corner where (name) was stood. She turned around fast enough to cause whiplash. 

Behind her was a group of men, each wearing military police uniforms. She looked at them skeptically, an eyebrow raised at them as they towered over her. Her previously neutral expression shifted into a cunning smile. 

One spoke, clearly the highest ranking based on his pins and badges. "Lady (Name) (last name), you are under arrest on suspicion for treason, murder, and acting in hostility towards the crown" 

"I expected I'd get caught at some point.." (Name) laughed, putting the textbook back on the shelf then holding out her arms "Very well then. Cuff me and take me away." 

The  officers looked surprised for a moment at how compliant she was. They had been warned of how dangerous this young lady was, and yet she obliged so easily. They looked at each other as if to say 'Make sure she doesn't try anything' 

Shortly after, (name) was taken into a carriage to the Military headquarters and guided to an office while the other officers littered in the halls looked in surprise that such an innocent looking woman was being taken into custody and has such a large group of some of their strongest soldiers surrounding her to prevent her from running off. 

Eventually, (name) was stood outside a couple of large doors. One of the officials knocked on the door, using some strange code words which the lady deduced to be referring to her, earning a 'enter' from the opposite side. 

The doors were pushed open and (name) was dragged to a seat, opposite a man with dark blue eyes and a piercing gaze. She sat down reluctantly, groaning in annoyance. 

"You may all leave now." The man said. 

"Bur director..! What if she attempts to—" He was cut off 

"Do not make me repeat myself." And with that, they had all left, although hesitant. (Name) was still quiet. She had barely said a word since her arrest despite feeling the urge to pester the officers during the carriage ride. 

She finally spoke. "You must be Director Mycroft Holmes, I'd like to say it's a pleasure to meet you but given the circumstances.." 

"I see you already know who I am, how did you find out?" He asked curiously, maintaining a serious demeanour. 

"It was rather clear based on your appearance and authority, but the sign on the door certainly helped." (Name) said nonchalantly as the man looked at her, dumbfound. "Now, what do you plan to do with me, a life imprisonment? Torture? The death sentence?" 

Mycroft stood up from his seat, walking around his office as (name) fidgeted with her handcuffs. 

"Not only did you kill my former superior, you also tortured Theodore Arden to death, so extremely that the autopsy report couldn't even determine what had caused his death," The Director spoke in disbelief "You killed his father, Viscount Arden, along with his entire family. They're calling it the Arden Massacre in the papers which I suspect with garner quite the audience, the nobility have been curious in regards to their absences. Not to mention, that wasn't the only family you killed. You even had their estate bombed to eliminate any possibility of it being traced back to you" 

"Correction, Director. I bombed it for the sake of my own vengeance. I couldn't care less if I were caught," (name) smirked "Had I wished to commit the perfect crime, I would have done so with ease. I would have killed as many people as I could ever desire and not get caught."

Holmes turned around, his eyes narrowing at her. "Is that a threat?" 

"I prefer the term 'promise'." She said, clicking her fingers as her handcuffs fell to the ground with a clatter. "Would you not be glad that you were promoted because of me? Surely that should be reason enough to have me executed in a clean and merciful manner, like Queen Anne Boleyn" 

(Name) had long ago accepted the possibility that her thirst for revenge could result in her own death. She didn't care though. If she had to die to do the right thing in avenging her brother, she would.

"If you truly are concerned with this so called 'Arden Massacre', perhaps I can give you a list of offence I had found when spying on the Viscount through his son." (Name) continued with a smile "Believe me, it's certainly not short." 

Mycroft raised a brow, sitting back at his desk. "And you believe it'll lessen your punishment?" 

"Punishing me wouldn't be wise, Sir Holmes. Besides..!" Her smile shifted into an angry scowl "You British bastards and your bloody empire have done enough to hurt the rest of the world. I mean, how would you react if  your brother was ordered to be killed in the most humiliating and painful way possible solely to be a 'warning' to your parents because they had tried to defend the right to their country maintains its current leadership instead of handing it to you ghostly pale know-it-alls!" 

She hadn't noticed the sympathetic glint in the directors eyes as she struggled to hide her rage more and more by the second. (Name) bit the inside of her cheek as if containing her words. 

"Rest assured, I have no intention of having you executed. From what I understand, you likely would have something up your sleeve." The Director rested his elbows on the desk, his chin against the back of his interlocking hands. "Humour me, what exactly would you do if I attempted to have you eliminated?" 

(Name) furrowed her eyebrows at the question. "If I were put in such a position.." she trailed off "I take it you are aware of the vast collection of blackmail I've gathered in the last year or so. I also assume you would hate to become the enemy of countless countries within and outside the British Empire. I understand you didn't request to have my brother killed, but I can be merciless when I wish to." 

"...You are aware of the effect your actions could have on (home country) and the noble house of (last name). We're in a stalemate, if you will." Mycroft commented in regards to their situation. 

If he had exposed (name) as the criminal behind the Arden Massacre and the linked murders, there was the possibility of starting a butterfly effect, causing Britain to wage war with (home country), however (name) was threatening to expose multiple scandals the British were involved in and cause a war involving numerous countries. Neither party could make their move without the other fighting back. 

"I'm aware." 

The Director nodded, turning back to the brothers. "Enough chatter..thank you for retrieving the documents, M..! I will include Adler's death in my report to her majesty." He said as he shut the door, ready to leave. "Farewell." 

Albert directed his attention to a nervous Adler. "Now..only one thing left to do." 

Once the group had returned to the Moriarty Manor in London, Adler was to be given a new identity, and in turn, a new life. 

"Now, there's only one thing left to do." 

Adler averted her gaze, awaiting instructions. 

"Fred, search the morgue for a body similar to that of Irene's here." Albert ordered the boy who nodded in response. 

"Understood." 

"Irene, from this moment, you are dead. As a member of our organisation, I will assign you to the secret service so we can make the most of you." He gestured to the colonel sat in the corner. "Colonel Moran is agent number 6. Feel free to ask him any questions." 

"O-Okay.." Adler stuttered 

"Soon you will become agent number 7, with a license to kill. You require a new name as well...for your given name, you may have ours: James. You may choose a surname yourself." 

Adler contemplated the potential options, thinking aloud "James...a new life..friends..ties.." she trailed off. "Bond." Taking a knife from a briefcase, Alder sliced the bun in her hair with a knife, golden locks falling to the ground. 

"My name is Bond." The new member spoke, wiping away lipstick with a thumb. "James Bond." 

"Your belongings have been delivered to your room," Louis told Bond as he gave him a tour of the estate.

Bond smiled in gratitude "Thank you, Mr Louis." 

"From today, Ms Adler, you will assume the role of a servant within our household and will be recruited to help with various activities." Louis explained 

"Understood." Bond nodded. "But please, stop referring to me as 'Ms Adler'. That woman no longer exists. Treat me as you would a man...and call me 'Bond'." 

"Very well then. Let me give you a tour of the estate, Mr Bond. I would've asked Miss Evans but she's having tea with (name) currently.." 

"Thank you.." 

As the tour continued, (name) and Josephine (along with Romeo who was sat with (name) as usual) were out on the porch, sipping tea as they discussed the latest gossip and such. (Name) had begun opening up about recent events in her life as Josephine had her journal and pen in hand. 

"..and then I said 'Especially if this young woman is from—'" she paused looking at the girl opposite her, writing keenly on her leather bound journal "Josephine, what are you writing?" 

Josephine's freckled cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She averted her gaze as she explained herself  "My apologies, (name)...I've recently started writing a novel of my own but I haven't had much time between chores and missions. I'm using all the free time I can get" 

This has piqued (name)'s interest. "A novel? What genre?" 

"Ah..it's quite a blend really..primarily it's a bit of a mystery book but there's a side plot of romance too.." She said quietly. 

"Like the new Sherlock Holmes books?" (Name) asked, stroking Romeo’s white fur. 

"A lot like those actually.." Josephine smiled "It's a work in progress though..! Just the first draft! I'm still unsure of the main protagonists name really but she's rather likeable, I'd say."

"Well, when you're ready, I would be honoured to read some of it for you," (name) smiled as she took another sip of tea.

As for the tour, Louis had explained each of the rooms on the many floors of the manor. 

"To the east of the second floor is Albert's bedroom and study. To the west, William's room and (name)'s too.  (Name) has her own study although it's slightly smaller than William's so (Name) insists it's why they tend to work together a lot, usually till sunrise." Louis explained. He had grown fond of his sister in law over the years he had known her. She seemed to have a respect for him he hadn't felt before.

"This is a nice estate.." James hummed "you seem to look out for the couple quite a lot too..I can see every nook and cranny of this place has been taken care of with much love from you, Mr Louis." 

Louis smiled but his expression quickly became one of distaste. "Yes though William, (name) and I often spend half the week in Durham so I've never had the time to clean this place up properly..No thanks to Mr Moran. Always dirtying up the place with his filth..just the other day Miss Evans told me she had caught him dropping his cigarette butts all over the floor..can you believe it? She gave him quite the talking to thankfully." 

"Mr Moran you say?" Bond smirked as they walked up to the third floor "I couldn't believe he was from a prestigious family myself."

"The third floor in this estate is for servants. The room in the middle is used by Fred and Moran as a training room. (Name) trains Miss Evans personally in combat, outside though." 

"What about that room there?" Bond nodded to it curiously 

"Next to Miss Evan's room? That is the changing room. You can use it too Mr Bond, but if you would rather your own..." Louis explained as the door was pushed open

"Not at all, but thanks for your concern," Bond said as he peered inside the changing room to see an unclothed Moran and Fred getting dressed 

"Huh?" the colonel grunted 

"Good day, I will be working together with you from now on—" Bond greeted politely

"Dwaahh!! You bloody woman!! Don't just barge in here!! At least knock first!! Where's your common decency?!" He exclaimed, covering his crotch with a towel 

Bond feigned ignorance and smiled "Why are you acting so embarrassed, Mr Moran? Do you feel insecure about your body?" 

Moran gasped in disbelief "What?! Of course not!! My body's a work of art! Its as sculpted as Michelangelo's David!" He posed as he slung the towel over his shoulder "Wait who cares about that?! You're a woman! You can't just barge in when us men are changin'!! Come on Louis, say something!!" 

"You have a point Mr Moran...but it would be quite discriminatory to build a female changing room for Mr Bond who is also a man.." Louis said thoughtfully

"Are you mad?!" Moran yelled "I can clearly see the racks on that bird!! Besides think of poor Fred!! How do you expect him to contain himself around those things?!" 

Fred sighed in annoyance, as if to say 'don't bring me into this.' The racket had started to draw the attention of the other three people in the manor. 

Bond had spoken up as if to step in "I think there's been some confusion here, so allow me to make one thing clear. I am a man. I wish to be treated as a man." He said " With that said, you can stop worrying and go about your business as usual, all right?" 

Moran clenched his teeth in frustration " It may be all well and good for you, but I don't approve it! For argument's sake, let's assume you are a man on the inside...there would still be problems." 

"You don't need to worry, Mr Moran. As you can see, I am very much a man. From my voice to the way I walk, even to the slightest gesture: I am a man." 

"It's not just about appearance lady," Moran said as footsteps approached the changing room. "You still can't match the strength of a real man. What if something happened during—" 

SLAM 

Bond had lifted his foot up, pinning a crouching colonel down against the wall. "Persistent, aren't you? Do I need to keep repeating myself to you? If you truly wish to see it my strength can match yours," he leaned forward to whisper into his ear menacingly "Then why not try and see for yourself, Mr Moran?" 

"Jesus Christ!! That woman scares me!! What does she mean by that?! Try?! Try what?!" Moran leapt up to hide behind Louis as the door opened to reveal both (name) holding Romeo,  and Josephine along with William too.

"What on earth is all the commotion about?" (Name) sighed as Louis placed his hands over the two ladies' eyes, shielding them from seeing Moran naked. 

"(Name)! William!" 

"You sound lively, Moran. What's the matter?" William chimed in as he stood in the doorway. 

"Listen to this! She—" He was cut off by Bond 

"We were discussing whether or not I can use this changing room. What do you think, (nickname), will?" He asked 

"The changing room, mr bond?" William repeated. 

(Name) removed Louis's hand from her eyes "I see no issue with another man using the male changing rooms.." 

William turned to Moran with a confused expression "Do you have something against another man using the changing room, Mr Moran?" 

"She can always change with you, come on!" Moran pointed to (name) who rolled her eyes. 

"Surely you mustn't be suggesting that I allow a man to change with Josephine and I. How improper." She said with a furrowed brow. 

Moran's jaw dropped, expecting to be backed up. "D-Damn you...William, (name).." 

Bond rested his hand against the door with a satisfied smile "That's settled then. We'll do as you two say." 

'Damn that woman...she knows how to get William an' (name) on her side..' Moran thought to himself 

"Oh, Mr Bond, once you're finished with your tour, please come to the living room. The rest of us will wait for you there," William smiled "And Mr Moran, please put some clothes on, there are ladies present." 

After a while, William had entered the lounge along with Louis and (name) while the 'servants' and Romeo (who had taken a liking to Bond) waited for their orders. 

"Bloody hell, man...don't go doing trivial things just before a meeting!" Moran complained 

"Now don't be like that, Moran. After all, all of you will be working together for today's job." William explained. 

Moran shot up "Wait! All of us...including Bond?!" 

"Naturally." William said as he sat down beside (name) who had Romeo now sat in her lap "Though Bond is now one of us, he is inexperienced in the way we operate. It's your job to guide and support him." 

"But what if we don't work well together!?" The colonel interrupted. 

"We will do as Albert said and make the best out of Bond. This letter contains all you need to know about this job.." (name) had noticed her husband voice becoming softer, more exhausted by the second. 

"If you say so, William.." 

"I'm going to take a little rest..(Name) can explain the rest to you..." Williams eyelids grew heavy, his eyelashes fluttering shut "And Mr Moran, get out of those clothes...put on something proper.." 

(Name) had suddenly felt something heavy land on her thighs while Romeo leapt up onto the arm rest. She looked down to see William snoring softly, asleep as his head rested on her lap, one hand gripping at the skirt of her dress. The room was silent for a good few seconds. The others (apart from Bond who had still not become aware of the circumstances of the couple's marriage) had half expected her to shove him off in embarrassment and try to change the subject, yet (name) remained sat there and even more shockingly, resting a hand in his hair affectionately, another tugging the collar of his shirt upwards to avoid further unwanted embarrassment. 

"William!" Louis stood up, removing his jacket to drape over his brother, fussing over him as usual.  "You'll fall ill if you sleep out here!"

“Honestly..you geniuses and your lack of self care..” Josephine muttered from behind (name) who frowned in guilt “We get worried when you don’t sleep or eat properly..” 

“Taking a nap, eh, will?” Bond laughed from the other end of the sofa. 

(Name) brushed a strand of hair out of William’s face, tucking it behind his ear, a smile tugging at her lips. “Not exactly..William often gets exhausted like this from thinking too much.”

“When he falls asleep like that, there not much that can wake him up.” Louis commented as he covered William with the jacket, shielding him from the cold. 

“Ah..I see,” Bond nodded “Hey, (nickname), are you and will…?” 

(Name) blinked at him in confusion. Josephine smirked, taking the opportunity at hand “Oh they most definitely are. William’s always calling (name) very affectionate pet names and is usually teasing her non stop.” 

“I once caught ‘em in William’s office about to—“  Moran was about to expose (name) for the previous incident following her husbands kidnapping before (name) cut him off. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like..! A-And besides, our marriage is none of your concern!” (Name) exclaimed, clearly flustered, then turning to Bond “It’s nothing of the sort, I assure you. M..Moving on..” she coughed, gesturing to the note which Moran opened  “In there you will find the rest of the instructions. There’s a key for the bank vault. I’ll stay behind to keep an eye on William, farewell.” 

Once they had been sent off, not without a few gilt whispers between Bond and Josephine , (name) had remained resting on the sofa with William laying comfortably in her lap, fearful that she may wake him if she got up. She sat there, petting Romeo sat on the arm rest beside her and speaking to him as if he were a small child,while absentmindedly playing with William’s beautiful blond hair. 

After what had felt like a while, sitting and watching over William, occasionally looking at the same few lines in her book, (name)’s legs had started to grow numb and she noticed her husband occasionally shivering and leaning against her, so she had decided to get a blanket to keep him warm. 

She took a pillow from behind her back and slowly got up, quickly swapping her lap for a pillow with some difficulty as the blond had gripped onto the fabric of  (name)’s dress as if she would disappear upon leaving. 

(Name) pressed her lips to his forehead before heading upstairs to get a blanket for William, Romeo following behind her, which had taken a surprisingly long time. Eventually she found a thin purple blanket to cover the professor and went back downstairs to see that the others had returned. 

There was an elderly man who was stood over the sleeping William, pinching his cheek. Moran was holding a flask of alcohol and yelling at Bond and Fred, Josephine and Louis were stood beside them. 

“I see you’ve all returned then,” (name) Said, approaching where she previously sat, then turning to the old man “You must be—“ 

“The old man!!” Moran exclaimed in shock “I-I mean…Instructor!!” 

“Little will hasn’t changed at all since I last saw him..” The Instructor chuckled as (name) covered ‘little will’ with the blanket and ushered Romeo away to not disturb him “nothing I do would wake him up..” 

“Instructor..?” Bond repeated “Yours, Mr Moran?” 

“Hell..so that’s why William called you..” Moran mutter, ruffling his hair 

Louis placed the box they had retrieved down “It seems so..the package we picked up from the vault indeed belongs  to him.” 

“Knives?” 

“How I missed these,” The instructor said, taking a knife out, unsheathing it “I had thought I would never see these again..” 

“The old man’s name is Jack Renfield. After the old Moriarty estate burnt down, it was him who took care of William and his brothers as a butler at Lord Rockwell’s estate.” Moran explained “He served in the British army during the first Anglo-Afghan war, and was given the moniker ‘The British Jack Knife’ by the enemy. During his time in the army, he also served as a close quarters combat instructor. Although now, he’s just an old butler who has been forgotten by history. Only those who still remember the war recognise him.” 

“Why would will summon such a man here?” Bond asked

“A killer is currently on a rampage across London..what’s worse, the psychopath is using the same name as our old instructor here.” Moran replied as the instructor put on the gear previously contained in the box. 

Bond put a finger to his chin as he thought “The infamous killer who was in the paper..I remember his name was..” He widened his blue eyes in realisation “Jack..!”

“Yes..” Moran confirmed “But this is the real Jack..

‘Jack the ripper’” 

William : (name)  and I are having a baby

Josephine: That’s great—

(Name), slamming adoption papers on the table: It’s you, sign here.

A/N: Teen fl was a menace to society. If I was Mycroft I wouldn’t have let her go like that but whatever. Also I will be referring to Bond from now on with he/him pronouns and if u have a problem with that, idk what to tell you. Liam really told Romeo that fls lap is his territory ‼️ Ik that cat wanted to scratch his fathers face off after that. Liam is lucky tho that Albert wasn’t there when he fell asleep because imagine he saw the hickey fl gave him 💀

[mermaidsirennikita]

Sorry if I missed it, but do you have any recs for diverse body types? Like either the hero, heroine, or both who are fat or chubby? Thank you!

Yes!

Historical:

Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake by Sarah MacLean. A classic! Callie is canonically fat, ends up pursuing the nine things she's always wanted to do before committing to spinsterhood, and the local rake ends up getting entangled in her adventures. One of my favorite moments in this book is when she tries to disguise herself as a man by wearing trousers during a fencing moment, and he sees her ass and is like "that is NOT a man".

A Rogue By Any Other Name by Sarah MacLean. It isn't as obvious in this book, but I think it's pretty clear that Penelope is more full-figured, and boy is Bourne about it.

Brazen and the Beast by Sarah MacLean. Hattie is fat, and this is one of the only historicals that actually has a plus-size model on the cover and the stepback. She's gorgeous, yay! (And it's such a great stepback.)

Knockout by Sarah MacLean. Another one where the model actually is a legit plus-size model, and a lot of the book is kind of like... big girl wish fulfillment in a great way, imo? It's very touching in a manner I don't think people will get if they haven't been there. Imogen doesn't have all this "I'm fat" angst, she's confident, but her sore point is being made to feel that she's too much in every way? Like, she's too brash, she's too bold, and her big personality on top of a bigger body just makes her too much. Like she should shrink in some way to balance it out. And Tommy is like, carrying her around, protecting her, adoring her. Ugh, it's a lOT.

The Truth About Cads and Dukes by Elisa Braden. Jane is fat, and she considers herself plain. What she doesn't realize, after she enters into a marriage of convenience with local icy duke Harrison, is that he is like. Physically. OBSESSED. He doesn't know much about her personality lmao, but he is BARELY holding it together whenever she does one of her innocent double entendres. (In like, the scene where he's trying to propose a fix it marriage, she's all "and you wouldn't know what's inside my mind unless you'd been inside ME" and he's like, desperately coughing to keep himself together while she has noooo idea why he's so upset lmao.)

Contemporary:

The Brown Sisters trilogy by Talia Hibbert. All three heroines are plus size. There are other cool aspects of rep Talia addresses as well--Chloe Brown has chronic pain, Dani Brown is bi, Eve Brown is autistic (and so is her hero). These are really fun, really good, really sexy books. I think Act Your Age, Eve Brown may be my favorite, though.

The Princess Trap by Talia Hibbert. This is another Talia book with a fat Black heroine who is totally aware of her own appeal and confident as hell. She ends up in a fake engagement situation with a prince (who is, I should add, in trouble because a tape leaked of him and his previous girlfriend getting up to Certain Things That Some Unjustly Consider Abnormal, and also mentioning his bisexuality) and it all goes from there. He has an oral fixation, btw.

Tastes Like Shakkar by Nisha Sharma. This is recent and so cute! It's a Much Ado About Nothing retelling wherein the hero and heroine, of course, hate each other, but have to work together because she's planning her bestie's wedding and he is the chef (and also best friends with the groom). And someone's trying to sabotage the wedding, so that's also an issue. He ALSO has a particular interest that I really appreciate seeing in books with fat heroines, personally.

A Merry Little Meet Cute by Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy. Christmasy, but works all year round imo. The heroine is a plus sized adult film star with a super popular OF-style account, but she wants to break into mainstream. So she gets this opportunity to fill in for an actress on a Hallmark-style Christmas movie, and jumps in. Except oops, the hero, who's a fallen boy bander, is VERY familiar with her work... Super body positive and hot, love it.

Possession by Adriana Anders. Omg love this book. The heroine is a rising actress, and she's in a totally platonic, PR marriage of convenience with this A-list, "sexiest man alive" type star. Then he gets caught on tape doing Stuff and Things with a woman who looks super similar to her. Obviously, they're not really together, but it looks like cheating, so he rans off to a camp to... be himself. She chases him down, and it's super super hot and emotional and there's consensual kidnapping!

Gothic-y Paranormal-y:

The Thornchapel Series by Sierra Simone has six leads (five of whom have POVs). One of the POV characters is a plus size model who's just acknowledged as like, the hottest person around. TW for a million things, but this heroine does have a strong recovery from a past sexual assault ARC.

There are romance novels with fat heroes, obviously, but they are much fewer and further between, and if I'm super real, I've yet to read one wherein the focus wasn't like "the hero and heroine are both fat and the main thing they talk about is being fat", which is not something I personally like to read. It's not that I don't want to read about two fat people falling in love--I do. But I don't like it when that's like... the main point of the story aside from the romance.

[cainluvr69]

Let Me Tell You The Story Of A Rainbow - Chapter 20

Previous Chapter

Owen: Let's just turn this world to scraps already. Mythical beasts and humans and wizards and even picture books are all the same once you rip them to pieces.

Owen crossed one long leg over the other, sitting sidesaddle on his broom. He laid his hand on the lid of his trunk, ready to unleash the horrors within.

Snow: Owen.

White: Don't be so selfish.

Owen: Making scary faces at me isn't going to get you anywhere. Or do you two really think you can take me down?

Bradley: Damn, he's super pissed off because Oz and Mithra ain't here.

Owen: What was that, Bradley? Are you volunteering to be the first one I rip to shreds?

Bradley: Hey, I'm not mockin' you, okay? My patience is wearing pretty damn thin, too. How about we knock 'em through themselves together on the count of three?

Owen: Absolutely not.

Bradley: Haha, too bad.

White: Is this really the time to be joking around with one another? Did you forget what we said earlier?

Snow: Should anything happen to this world, we cannot guarantee that we'll be able to protect the Sage and the rest of the Sage's wizards.

Owen: Mithra has his dimensional door, doesn't he? And Oz is here, too. Mithra's probably spacing out somewhere, but Oz would notice and do something about it.

Snow: Are you sure? I think they're about equal in terms of airheadedness.

Owen: If the world's collapse starts to accelerate, one of them will do something about it. And if there's anyone you just can't bear to lose, can't you just scoop them up to safety yourself?

Snow: Goodness, what a self-centered little menace you are. Perhaps I should call Oz over and have him drop an extra-big lightning bolt on you if you think that lizard's lightning isn't up to snuff.

White: Now now, Snow dearest. That would result in the destruction of this world.

Bradley: Either way, it's just a matter of time 'til that happens anyways, yeah? Owen, does that big lump of scales have anythin' to say for itself?

Owen: Literally no idea. It's just been wailing in pain this whole time, so it's not like it's said anything I could actually understand…

But just then, a flurry of rainbow scales sparkled around Owen--Roxy was flying around him. Roxy settled on Owen's shoulder. It seemed to be pleading with him, the only one among our number who could understand what it was saying.

Owen: …

Suddenly, a violent screech shook the area. The lizard was crackling with electricity, its body swelling even larger.

Bradley: Yeah… I'm done with waitin' around.

Bradley readied his rifle as he spoke.

Snow & White: Bradley!

Bradley: No hard feelings!

I was expecting a bold, fearless grin, but instead, Bradley lowered his voice to a cautious whisper.

Bradley: <Adnopotensum>

And with a solemn bang, Bradley's gun spat fire. And as to where his bullet landed--there was something like a crack moments after he fired. Bradley's target was not the lizard, but the trunk of a tree that towered over it. The earth trembled with a roar as loud as a thunderclap, and then the tree began to topple, its shadow draping over the lizard like a delicate cloth. With the tree preventing it from moving, the lizard squealed fiercely.

Bradley: Haha! See, all I had to do was put my mind to it a little, and there ya go.

Snow: Goodness, you actually restrained your magic?

White: What a feat for a Northern wizard, for whom everything but attack magic is left to the side, unpracticed…

Bradley: Psht, who do you think I am? No one's got pinpoint control like I do.

Snow & White: Kyakya! Bradley dear, you're soooo cooool!

Owen: That working out that well looked like a coincidence to me.

Bradley: 'Scuse me? Don't get all pouty on me, now.

Owen landed next to the big lizard, which was pawing pitifully at the ground, unable to get out from under the fallen tree, and whispered to it coldly.

Owen: Your completely transparent attempts at hiding the piece of that girl's memory failed. Hurry up and open your mouth already. I'm not as soft as he is. If you don't get on with it, you can say goodbye to everything from the neck down.

Then Owen leaned closer to the lizard and whispered something even more quietly.

Owen: Continuing to hide it from us isn't going to do anything to protect the person you want to protect. Wanna know why? Because if you don't hand it over, I'm going to erase this world. All of it. So you know what the right thing to do is, right?

It must have understood, because it stopped struggling and timidly opened its mouth. Owen deftly snatched up the thing that was sitting on the tip of its tongue.

Owen: Here it is. A single purple pearl.

White: You did wonderfully too, Owen dear!

Snow: This beast certainly settled down in a hurry, though. Did something happen?

Owen: Not really. I just reminded it of where it sits on the food chain.

Bradley: Damn, what a pain this thing is. It really didn't need to start actin' up like that.

Mithra: Good grief. Using brute force isn't always the best way to do things.

Mithra was using the crystal ball I was holding to talk to them, like a magical telephone.

Mithra: Protecting something really isn't as simple as all that.

Bradley: I really don't wanna hear that from you, man.

Snow & White: You have no place to speak.

Owen: If you weren't on the other end of that crystal, I'd smash your head into paste.

The purple pearl in Owen's hand began to glow, and then flashed with blinding light.

✦✧☾✧✦

Little, little Luca was running through a moonlit forest, wheezing breathlessly. ----That morning, after she'd returned to the monastery, she'd been welcomed back with a beating from her teacher. Apparently, she'd neglected some of her chores. Luca could hardly breathe. Everyone in the monastery was suffocating her by treating her like this. Even when she was thrown into a storage room and locked away, the only ones who came to comfort her were the strange friends only she could see. And with their help, she was finally, finally escaping the monastery. She wasn't going to vanish for a few days, and then go back. No, she was never going to return, and she was never going to do those awful chores ever again. Her conviction was firm. But it wasn't to last. Her escape had taken her deep into a forest that few people ever traversed, but some humans happened upon her while she was talking to spirits. The looks on their faces immediately twisted into something malevolent, and they attacked her. Why? Because "a creepy wizard had placed an eerie, ominous curse over the whole forest."

Luca: …That's not me. I was just…

But her frightened voice would never reach their hearts. They had her cornered, pinned against a wall. But then… With a peal of thunder loud enough to split the sky, lightning struck, and the silhouette of a massive reptile appeared in the split second of light. The humans screamed and fled as fast as their legs could carry them.

Luca: Thank you… You saved me. …Huh? What do I think of you? You are kinda big, but…I'm not scared. I mean, you saved me. Those people who chased me down so they could do something bad to me were way, way scarier than you could ever be… …But, wanna know a secret? Even though I'm always all alone, I've made lots and lots of friends. So I think that no matter what happens, from now on…I won't be scared. As long as I have all of you with me…I'll be brave.

✦✧☾✧✦

As they followed their group's guiding light, Figaro, Lennox, and Mitile began to notice coins and gemstones scattered here and there on the ground.

Mitile: There are a lot of little things that have fallen among the grass around here. Let's see, this one's a medal, I think this is an old kind of currency…and this is a rare gem, isn't it?

Lennox: I wonder who…no, I wonder what in this book dropped all of this here.

Figaro: I think this is…probably the work of an herbula.

Mitile: An herbula?

Figaro: It's the name of a kind of magical plant. It's a rare one, only growing in locations with bountiful nature and clean water. You can basically think of them as leaf spirits. It's the kind of thing you'd find in a fairy tale. They'll pick up anything they think is valuable, but as you can see, they drop a lot of those things, too.

Mitile: They pick up a lot of stuff, so they drop a lot of stuff, too?

Figaro: Essentially, yes. They'll pick up something they've decided is valuable and then drop it when they're not paying attention…and then pick it up all over again.

Mitile: They must drop stuff because they're trying to carry too much all at once.

Lennox: When you have a lot of things important to you, it's easy to get stuck on what to keep, and instead end up trying to hold onto all of them. I can get a little selfish too, so I understand how they feel.

Mitile: You…? Selfish…?

Figaro: Oh, so you are aware of it.

Lennox: You know how it is. Oh… There's a small knot in this tree.

Mitile: Oh, there is! And it's absolutely surrounded with dropped and forgotten treasures.

Figaro: Looks like they had a frenetic day of cleaning out the house. I wonder if they cleared the whole knothole out?

Mitile: Why would they do that?

Figaro: This is just a guess, but…probably to put something even more precious in there instead. There's only so much one can handle, and when things start getting out of hand, welp! Time to throw something out.

Lennox: …The piece of Luca's memories is probably in that knothole.

Figaro: Yeah. That girl's memories are the most valuable treasures in this book's world. The spirits would want to treat them right.

Mitile: But, um, the entrance to the knothole is so thin, I don't see how we'd get anything out of it…

Figaro: Easy enough to fix with a bit of magic. <Possideo>

Figaro snapped his fingers, and the three of them began to glow softly.

Mitile: Woah…!

Their bodies suddenly shrank, getting smaller and smaller. Once they were small enough that I could carry all three of them in my hands, the light petered out and they stopped shrinking.

Figaro: This should be just about the right size. Well? Any problems?

Lennox: No, I'm fine. This really gives a fresh look to the landscape we'd been walking through before. Turning this small is rather pleasant.

Mitile: I'm good, too! I had to get on my knees just to look into this knothole, but now it's like a big tunnel…

Figaro: Haha, good to hear you're both okay. If Rutile had been here, he would've thrown himself into a tizzy over this.

Mitile: Yeah. I bet when we tell him, he'll get so jealous. Like, "That sounds like so much fun!"

The three of them entered the knothole, all of them still smiling happily.

And inside of it was a listless-looking spirit with droopy leaves on top of its head and in place of a tail.

Mitile: Wah…!

Figaro: …? Oh, that's…

But Mitile's yelp had alerted the spirit to their presence. It turned to run on unsteady, tottering legs.

Mitile: Ah, please wait…!

Lennox: We apologize for walking in without permission. You don't need to be scared of us.

Figaro: …Your vegetation's looking a little worse for wear. You probably shouldn't move around too much.

The be-leafed spirit was still restlessly puttering about, and tripped over itself in the process--but Lennox was there to catch it before it hit the ground.

Mitile: I have a lot of different kinds of medicine on hand, but will any of them work on it? Maybe I should look for medicinal herbs that grow in the area…ah, wait, right. We're inside of a book right now.

Figaro and Lennox glanced from Mitile, still fretting over the spirit's condition, to each other. They nodded to one another, and then turned their attention back to Mitile.

Figaro: No need to worry. This little guy's just a little tired, is all. I could take care of it, buuuut… Mitile, how about you cast healing magic on it instead?

Mitile: Huh, are you sure? I mean, compared to you, Dr. Figaro, I'm still…

Next Chapter

[heavensbeehall]

"Mockingjay", Chapter 5

Part 1: The Ashes

Chapter 5: Katniss gets prepped! Katniss takes the Preps to lunch and Posy is the cutest. Gale tries to make up with Katniss after defending Coin's ultimatum the previous night. Katniss is still angry. Gale stands by what he said. They are sent to Beetee in Special Defense. Beetee is watching hummingbirds. Gale thinks of a way to snare them. Beetee has made a new bow for Katniss, which is very cool. But Katniss can't say the line "People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice" because it's dumb. And then our old friend Haymitch Abernathy shows up.

Thoughts:

I didn't queue anything for today. I am behind on my reading. It feels oddly like I didn't do my homework.

But she has been the quickest to determine that I have an agenda of my own and am therefore not to be trusted. She has been the first to publicly brand me as a threat.

In this respect, Coin is a bit smarter than Snow, maybe? I don't think he thinks much of women, especially teenage girls, and thought he had her "under control." A lot of what Katniss has to do in this book (going where Coin wants, faking her simulation in training, and most crucially saying yes to the new Hunger Games) is about lulling Coin into that false sense of complacency.

She told me she had several mice at home as pets. The thought repulsed me at the time, since we consider mice vermin, unless cooked. But perhaps Octavia liked thembecause they were small, soft, and squeaky. Like her.

Another comparison between the Preps and animals.

But it's Posy, Gale's five-year-old sister, who helps the most. She scoots along the bench to Octavia and touches her skin with a tentative finger. "You're green.Are you sick?" "It's a fashion thing, Posy. Like wearing lipstick," I say. "It's meant to be pretty," whispers Octavia, and I can see the tears threatening to spill over her lashes. Posy considers this and says matter-of-factly, "I think you'd be pretty in any color."

No real thoughts just love for Posy Hawthorne. She's a star.

"I mean you put her in a bad position. Making her give Peeta and the others immunity when we don't even know what sort of damage they might cause," Gale had said.

Gale, babe, you've fallen in with a bad crowd. (And I know it's because he's excited to finally be part of an army that will take on the Capitol, but I want to sit him down, like on a bad sitcom "special episode" and say "Is Alma Coin pressuring you in any way, Gale? If Alma Coin jumped off a bridge would you do it too?")

In preparation for the Quell, I saw a tape where Beetee, who was still a boy, connected two wires that electrocuted a pack of kids who were hunting him. The convulsing bodies, the grotesque expressions. Beetee, in the moments that led up to his victory in those long-ago Hunger Games, watched the others die. Not his fault. Only self-defense. We were all acting only in self-defense…

Ugh I want to know more about how all the victors won, does that make me an awful person? Also, why does fandom not blame Beetee for what happens later like it does Gale?

But I don't know what to tell him about the aftermath of killing a person. About how they never leave you.

I don't know why but this made me think of the book Say Nothing by Patrick Radden Keefe. It's about the Irish Republican Army in general. But there was a bit about the disconnect between the Irish people who lived in Belfast and heard the bombs and the American Irish Diaspora, who often sent or paid for the weapons. It's a lot easier to say they should keep on fighting if you don't have to do the killing. Anyway, I recommend the book.

[cherrygummycandy]

New school, New you.

(A Recess x New Kid!Reader fic)

(AN: This is a part two to my previous x reader fic, I have aged all the characters up to highschool to account for language and more modern references. Probably a few OOC characters, but overall, I tried to stick to the characters original concepts.)

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Admittedly, you weren't expecting your first encounter with a fellow student to end up with you getting dragged around the Third-Street school's back lot. Ashley Spinelli pulls your arm, yanking you up a set of concrete stairs, giving you a decent view of the playground. Gus quickly grabs his marbles and follows the two of you, almost tripping as he scuffs one of his loafers on the bottom step. He lets out a yelp, prompting Spinelli to roll her eyes.

"Alright, new kid. Lemme get you caught up with the, uh-" Spinelli trails off, trying to think of a word to describe how the playground works. "Hierarchy?" Gus interjects. "Sure, yeah, that's what I was gonna say." Spinelli looks back over the playground and whispers "Geek...". Motioning to the center of the playground, a large jungle gym emerges. Bright red and green slides, blue climbing bars, and various other contraptions cover the structure, giving it a rather grand look, despite it just being playground equipment for an under-funded school. "See that guy up at the top?" Spinelli points upwards, to a boy sitting on top of the structure with a crown. You squint harder, noticing the crown seems to be more of a craft project than an actual crown. "Is he wearing a crown made out of-" "A baseball helmet? Yeah, I think so, no one's really sure where he got it from." Gus responds, answering your question for you. You get the feeling that's been asked a lot.

"That's King Bob, our schools dear leader." Gus holds his hand over his chest, eyes wide in admiration. You tilt your head in confusion, and Spinelli lightly smacks him on the back of the head, leading him to scramble as his glasses fall off. "Yeah, what Gus said. You're new, so you're definitely gonna have to meet the King at some point." Your posture tenses, getting a little smaller. "Um, why?" You ask. "He likes to keep tabs on all his, 'subjects.', y'know?" Spinelli uses some heavy finger quotes around subjects, giving you the impression not all his policies are popular on the playground.

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"Now, check out the dude under the tree over there." A guy in a trench coat can be seen leaning against a tree, eyes shifting back and forth as if checking for teachers. "That's Hustler Kid. He sells extra study guides, toys, snacks, and banned books. 'Long as it won't get him in trouble if you're caught, he'll sell it to ya." Spinelli explains, and Hustler kid seems to be sure the coast is clear, as he takes out a pack of smokes. "I thought he didn't sell stuff that could get kids in trouble?" You ask. Spinelli nods, "He doesn't. Those cigs are his, only his. I've made that mistake before." she sighs in exasperation. Gus scrambles back up the steps.

"Spinelli! You knocked my glasses halfway across the playground!" He complains, panting as he rests for a moment, hands on his knees. Spinelli only chuckles, folding her arms. "Didn't ask, Gus." You giggle a little at this, and Spinelli shoots you a grin. "Have you mentioned the Ashley's yet? T-That's kind of important." Gus trails off, freezing as if he recalling a harsh memory. "Good one Gus. Give em' the rundown, I gotta go to the bathroom." Spinelli heads out, casually punching your shoulder as she walks by. "The Ashley's are the meanest girls on the playground. They know everything that happens on the playground." He gets real quiet, and looks around quickly before repeating himself softly. "Everything." You nod, brows furrowed in concern. "The worst of them is Ashley A." You follow his gaze and see a gaggle of four fashionably dressed girls. One stands out, a girl with long brown hair dresses in purple sits in the middle. "Her dad is rich, and if she says she'll ruin your life, she means it. Whatever she says, goes.". "Have you had a problem with the Ashleys before, Gus?" You ask. He shudders. "I don't like to talk about it..." He mumbles, and you nod awkwardly.

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"Yo, Gus!" A loud voice rings out from a few feet away, causing you and Gus to turn your attention towards the voice. A tall boy in a basketball jersey jogs up the stairs. "Hey, we need a ref for kickball, 'think you can sub in?" The boy asks, foot tapping as he speaks. He clearly has quite a bit of energy, and seems desperate to get back to his game.

"I can't Vince, Spinelli's having me give the new kid a tour of the playground." Gus explains, gesturing to where you're stood. You give a small wave. "Oh shit, we got a new kid?" Vince says. "Language!" Gus squeaks, only to be brushed past. Vince leans up against the building in front of you, extending his free hand. "Hey, Im Vince, Vince LaSalle. Where you from?" He seems to look you over, as if unsure what to think of you just yet. "I'm just a transfer, it's my first day." You explain. "Spinelli caught you yet?" He asks with a laugh. "Yeah, she's, interesting..." He nods. "Are you any good at sports?" You shrug. "I mean, I was on the swim team at my old school, but I don't play many team sports." You admit. Vince sighs, but seems satisfied. "Well, I'm sure we can find something for you to do, maybe an equipment manager..." He pauses, and puts his hand on his head as if thinking.

"Or maybe, they just don't want to play sports?" Spinelli suggests, having returned from the restroom. Vince looks shocked, fumbling the ball in his hands and exclaiming "What! It's kickball, that's like, everything!" He seems almost offended. "It's everything to you, Vince." Spinelli slaps her hand on the underside of his ball, knocking it up out of his hands. He doesn't even flinch, now locked in a staring match with Spinelli. "Gus, go the ball." He says, and Gus only sighs before running to retrieve it. You're left with the pair, awkwardly looking back and forth between them. "Um, well..." You try to think of what to say to diffuse the situation. "Maybe I could go and watch you play sometime?" This seems to snap Vince out of his eye-brawl, and he looks over to you. "Yeah?" He asks. You nod. "Okay, yeah... cool!" He nods as he thinks, trying to suppress his grin. Spinelli gags. "Jeez, Vince. You're cheesin' harder than Mikey when we read 'Romeo and Juliet'. Knock it off." She groans, prompting an embarrassed look to spread across the boy's face. "Whatever, I gotta get back to my game." He turns around, hoping no one noticed the light blush dusting his face. "See ya' later, new kid". He calls, heading back to his Kickball game. Just as he leaves, Gus returns to the stairs, panting heavily. "Wha- where'd he go?" Gus asks, and Spinelli grins. "Just wandered off... who knows why?" Gus groans.

"I had to run halfway across the playground for this ball..."

[wheredafandomat]

Two slow dancers

Loki x female avenger reader

Chapter 5 - a gift for the god

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

It was nothing big but thoughtful nonetheless. You smiled at your creation, leaving it on the side as you packed all your equipment away, excitement rising through you as you thought about his reaction to it. You were sure he’d like it and absolutely certain tired Loki would love it. Perhaps you’d have to tire him out for him to really appreciate the gift you thought, picking it up before heading towards his room.

Cautiously you knocked his door, now suddenly nervous. When he didn’t instantly answer, you turned to leave before you heard him call for whoever was outside to enter. Slowly you pushed the door open a little, revealing yourself to Loki who sat at his desk seemingly reading.

“Oh y/h, what a pleasant surprise.” He greeted.

“Is it?” You joked causing Loki to straighten up.

“Not particularly, what do you want?”

Okay, maybe don’t joke with Loki in future, noted.

“I wanted to say thank you, I’ve not been able to say it properly since the mission.” You began.

“For what?” He replied, cursing himself for how harsh his previous words sounded. He didn’t mean to be rude, he just didn’t want to rouse suspicion especially after how he must have acted the other night.

“Saving my life.” You smiled, shifting on your feet as a silence settled between you both before Loki cleared his throat and spoke.

“You’re my partner.” He dismissed

Surely if Loki knew the implications of his words he wouldn’t have chosen them and said them so lightly. Partner? If only.

“I made you something” you quickly added, handing him the two emerald green scrunchies “it’s so that your hair doesn’t get in your way.” You explained nervously as Loki stood up, making his way towards you before taking them from your hand, fingers brushing one another’s in the process. He looked them over for a few moments, testing their elasticity before looking back at you.

“Thank you y/n.” He said earnestly.

“I could—I could um” you stuttered, before gesturing to your own hair.

“Oh, be my guest.” He spoke, catching on to what you were trying to convey before taking one of your hands in his and leading you to the chair he was previously sitting on. Letting your hand fall, he sat down on the chair before handing you one of the scrunchies. Taking it, you began combing your hands through his hair. Loki couldn’t help but hum contently at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had gifted him something.

His refusal to prove Thor right was withering away with every second his hair was in your hands. He couldn’t even deny his feelings for you to himself anymore, it was futile. He knew how he felt when he thought you were in danger, it physically pained him. He knew that his feelings extended those of a friend.

“There.” You finished, admiring your work after tying Lokis hair into a bun “you look good.” You giggled.

“Yeah?” He turned, smiling at you, breath almost hitching at the wide smile on your face. Norns you were beautiful and he was beyond proving Thor right. He had let a midgardian girl tempt him.

You nodded in response, eyes lingering on one another’s for a moment too long before you quickly looked away.

“Well, goodnight Loki.” You bid.

“Wait, you must take the other.” Loki answered, handing you the other scrunchie.

“Noo, I made them for you.” You insisted “night Loki.”

“Well. I love them.” He grinned “goodnight y/n.”

You left Lokis room, heart hammering in your chest as you made your way back to your own room unaware that Loki felt the same. He smiled at his reflection wondering how it was that you were able to break his resolve.

It had been just over a week since you had given Loki the scrunchies and your heart fluttered whenever you saw him wearing one especially during training. You had been on a mission since where Loki was quick to defend you against an attacker which you thanked him for by making him a personalised book mark since he lost his last one. You hadn’t expressed your feelings for him, scared of ruining your friendship but you were content in how things were going, things were good. You found yourself wondering what he thought. It was clear that you had both become closer to one another and Loki felt more comfortable being around you, often choosing to sit next to you in the company of others. You wondered if there was ever a chance in the future that you were both more than just fiends.

Tags:

@mischief2sarawr

@michelleleewise

@lucylaufeyson 3

@mcufan72

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Four.

Eh, have another chapter! I was going to be sparing in how I rolled them out, but a few of you seem to be really enjoying it, so I’ll be charitable! Especially since it’s already written and I’m just having to go back and edit it here and there. I’m also now considering writing a sequel, but we’ll see. 

Anyway, y’all ready to meet vampire EZ? ;)

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three

Words - 5,680

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

EZ's POV

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" The girl, Anna I think her name is, currently astride me asks, coming to a stop from bouncing on my cock.

"I think I fell asleep for a few moments. You bore me, go home," I reply bluntly, pushing her off me and getting up off the bed to put my jeans back on.

"You're fucking rude!" she snorts, while I just look at her with slight distain.

"And you've outstayed your welcome on my dick, so fuck off." Moving at speed to the door in a second, opening it and gesturing through with my hand, I stand expectantly for her to take the hint that I’m done. She pulls her dress and her underwear back on, picking up her purse and shoes before matching out haughtily.  

“You’re a fucking cunt!”

I hum a chuckle. “I know, sweetheart. And you’re a mediocre lay. Bye.” Following her down the stairs, I shut the front door behind her gladly. She was good for five hours, at least. I don't know, perhaps screwing every human female I like the look of just isn't fun now I don't have Angel here to taunt with it. He ah, doesn't indulge in living flesh. There is a reason, why his libido is only satisfied by vampire women. It's up to him to tell you why, though.

"Good bloody lord, what on earth is that perfume she was wearing? She smells like something used to ward off insects!" Charles asks me as I wander shirtless and barefoot into his sitting room. He and Ursula have one each, but they can usually be found together in here at some point in the night. She's over in hers at the moment, talking on the telephone with a vampire friend in Galway, where she's from. Her Irish accent is very soft now though, since the accent of a vampire does change, depending on where he or she spends their time. I have noted though, Charles has been exempted from that for the entire time I've known him. His accent is British upper class. He speaks very properly.

"Something that smelled like it was created pre-disaster. I made her shower too, but not even washing could completely remove the cheap stench," I grumble in reply as I sit down on the couch adjacent to him.

"I must say, she was a cut or three below the usual calibre of female you bring back, my boy," he notes, raising an inquiring eyebrow in my direction.

I shrug, nonchalant. "I was seduced by the enormous boobs. What can I say?"

"Ahhh, the treasures of her chest, I think I can perhaps forgive you that," he chuckles, the fire making his pale blue eyes glint.

"Her blood was palatable as well, but other than that I grew tired of her at a much faster rate than I usually would have.”

He nods, placing his book down and turning to me. "Indeed. I have had quite the surprise in recent years, seeing a female enter your bedroom one evening and then exit it two evenings later. You're doing well, so well that I'm wondering whether it'll be one century or two that shall pass before one stays here for a whole week.”

He knows me too well. "You know my feelings towards anything even bordering on monogamy, it doesn't interest me.”

"I wouldn't expect it to either, especially not with a mortal. Some vampires find interest in it, some do not as you know. In some vampires, like Angel to use a perfect example, it does work well to settle them. We both know that isn't about to happen with him, though, not with a breather, at least. You though, my boy, you've settled into your vampirism like no other I have ever known. You have and continue to make me an exceedingly proud creator in how you conduct yourself." These words, they make me smile in return of his praise. I like it that as an offspring I have been textbook perfect, as Charles and Ursula say, that I've made my creator proud and settled into my death without much issue. It can go either way when you're turned.  

Of course, every vampire requires a significant adjusting period when first turned. You have to get used to the fact that suddenly, you're dead but still there, your body begins eliminating needs of the living and you have to adjust to the fact you crave blood like an addict craves cocaine, a lust for blood that at first you cannot control. I remember one of the biggest infant mistakes I ever made was over my reluctance to give up the sunlight. 'Really, how bad are we talking? A burning sensation or will I burst into flames?' I remember asking Charles, about a week after I was turned. 'Why not go out in it for yourself and see? You shan't burn up, but you will be injured and no, it is a little more in feel than a burning sensation, as you word it' was his reply to me. So, I did. I never saw the sun after that. One ray hitting my cheek and scorching my skin off was enough for me to see his point.

After a few years, I began to settle into it with ease, Charles telling me I was the absolute model blueprint for a vampire because of how well I had settled and adjusted. For Angel, though... he's still getting there. He was a diva who hated being told what to do in life and not much has changed in his death. I'll give him this, though, he is a lot better than he was before he turned one hundred. He's been gone for two days now, and I'm thankful Ursula is settling down a little more. I found her sobbing in the kitchen yesterday at around 10pm before I headed out, crying that she could feel he was in pain as her bloodied tears stained her face. Ursula is the strongest, most formidable vampire I have ever met because of her age, but where we are concerned, she has a tremendously large soft spot. Not so much for me, but with Angel, well he's like her baby. She adores him.

I have to say, I miss him being around, even though he only recently went. I don't blame him at all for how he acted against those two humans who attempted to drain him; in fact, I'm proud of how he handled it. Drainers should answer to us only, not the humans. It isn't them who are at risk from these parasites, it’s us. I firmly believe all vampire misconduct should be addressed and handled by our own authorities too, just as many others do. Why must the mortals interfere? I'm not too fond of humans, if the truth be known. I see them as things to feed on and things to fuck and that’s about it. I do understand the points on human and vampire socialisation and co-existing that Charles and Ursula constantly enforce to both Angel and myself, but we do struggle more than they.  

They're ancient and have both found some of their humanity again, we struggle because we are young and still finding ours. Well, Angel is more than me. I can control myself around mortals, he can't. They make the point that our presence has pissed off a hell of a lot of people in the world, regardless of our work in helping the humans deplete the number of the reanimated, post-disaster. 'The balance must be kept at an even keel, they are our food source and with so many of the secret keeping families wiped out after the disaster, it is imperative to have good relations with them. Respect must be shown, and if they show none to us then it proves what we all know already, that we are superior' Charles often says to me. Even though they both enforce the good relations speech, Charles and Ursula, like all vampires, still consider our race superior to the humans, because there is absolutely no denying that we are.

We're stronger, smarter and faster. Also, ask a woman who has bedded both a human man and a vampire who she prefers. Nine out of ten will tell you that we win. What can I say? We're old, we've picked up a lot on sexual prowess over our existences, and we can fuck for hours on end. Oh, and the speed we move at? Well, imagine that a little more localised in regards to certain parts of our anatomy making contact with yours. Ladies, did you just clench your thighs together? I bet you did. Bearing that in mind, what's not to like?  

The main objectionable reason I've heard is because we're stone cold, but if you put us next to a heat source we will actually warm up, but not all over. Imagine if you put a stone in front of a roaring fire, it'd warm up where the heat hit it. We're much the same. For example, the human I kicked out earlier warmed the parts of me her body touched against while she slept beside me, but as soon as you remove the heat source, we go cold again. Also, the other reason I've heard countless times is the fear that is associated with us. Many humans fear my kind, with good reason to as well. But if we decide we want to fuck you, we're not going to kill you. Well, some of us won't. Others of course I cannot speak for.  

After spending some time with Charles, I head over to the other side of our large house to find Ursula. I wouldn't usually bother, but I know she hasn't coped well without Angel being here. Seems she can sense just that, too.

"Checking up on me again, are you?" she asks me just as I've opened the door.  

"Of course," I state, arriving behind her at her desk in a blink and watching her sketch.

"Since I can't see his face, I'll just draw it instead. I'm sure I'd be mocked by others of our kind, my pining for him, especially at my age. Him being in pain also, I can only just tolerate it," she explains, when I view the pencil sketch she's currently working that will be Angel when she's finished it. Only a quarter of his face is shaded in at present.

"You've become in touch with more of your humanity at your age, and Angel is the only vampire you've ever made who still walks the earth.” Adeline and Ivan were the only two others she ever turned, and both perished long before Angel and I were made immortal. Ivan met the final death in a vampire war, and Adeline exposed herself to the dawn and burned after she lost her human companion of eighty-five years. I think this is perhaps why Ursula is finding being away from Angel hard. She is reminded of the pain of losing vampire children before. "He will come back to you, you know this.”

"I do, you are quite correct. I shall adjust and steel myself to it more.” Going back to her sketch, she begins to add more pencil strokes across the paper, before suddenly shuddering. Vampires seldom have physical responses like that, but I know exactly why she just as. She felt Angel's pain. "I shall do better than that the next time." She then adds with a small smile as she stands and turns to me, reaching up on her tip toes and kissing my cheek.

"What was that for?"  

"For being you, and at least I still have that. I have you and Charles, and the comforting thought of imagining ripping the throat out of whoever is hurting my Angel whenever I feel it happening to him," she replies with a little wink, making me laugh quietly through my nose. You must never forget that past the amiable nature, Ursula is ancient and barbaric. I've seen her enraged many times. She can strike terror on the same scale as a tsunami.

"Does it physically hurt you, to feel it?"  

"No, it's more of a flare that goes through me, accompanied with a feeling similar to when we felt nausea as humans. When you eventually become a creator yourself, I hope you never have to experience it." I nod, and then leave her to it, heading out to enjoy my night in all the ways we vampires do. I'll let you use your imaginations, exercise your little human brains over what it is I could be up to.

Edie's POV

"That's a fucking terrible song, you know." The vampire tells me while I plug in an earphone to my mp3 player and blast some Jane's Addiction. They're about the heaviest thing I listen to. I have quite the eclectic taste in music, though. I think I need to spray his throat again. I much prefer him when he’s silent.  

"And what would you know of Jane's Addiction?" I snort. I'm two days in, and I've given in to some of the things he asks me, some I haven't. I'm being unpredictable with what I choose to answer and ignore. It's working really well in him not being able to work me out, well, so far so good at least.

"They’re a band from my time as a human. They weren't bad, I saw them a whole bunch when I followed the Ozzfest tour one summer as a teenager, but the song you're listening to I don't care for. Then again, I wouldn’t expect someone who willingly does what you have to their hair to have any other kind of sense over what constitutes good taste.” Yeah, I got bored and decided to tone my blonde hair violet. I love it, I think it looks so pretty. Apparently, the dead dude doesn’t agree. It isn’t his hair, though, so he can piss off.  

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head at him. “Insulting my musical choice and hair colour? Lame, dude. Real lame. Can’t you think of anything better than that? I care not for your opinion on either, now be quiet, or your vocal cords get a nice rinsing out with silver again.” Lifting the silver headed lump hammer within my grasp, I then swing it straight into his stomach, the vampire softly grunting in pain. I've broken several of his ribs with it already this evening, watching how his body is getting slower in recovery as his bleeding, rib punctured lungs cause him to cough up blood - and spit it out at me, several times - until he heals again after a time.

"Pardon me if I’m a little less creative in my insults. Having a chest pooling with blood will do that to you, though,” he states, through grumble of pain, actually adapting a sincere tone. He does this, swings between talking to me like an equal, talking to me like I'm trash, and then spending much of his time insulting my appearance, even though he's said quite a few times that I've a nice ass. The change in the colour of my hair is just one of many things he’s picked at so far, attempting to discover a weak point, a chink in my armour.  

Ahh, crap. I just realised I slipped up there. I asked him a question and then told him to be quiet. Even though it was asked in sarcastic retort, I still did it. Retort, that's my word of the day. I aim to learn and use a new one each day. My word of the day ritual is something Aileen decided to help me with. One of her daughters is a spelling bee champ, and she regularly competes against kids in other schools. She's at a very high level with it, very large and tricky words have to be spelled. Aileen jots them (the words Sophie has to learn) all down in a tiny little flip pad for me with their meaning on the back, adding other smaller words here and there from the dictionary as well. She's been a great help to me. If you let her though, Aileen with mother you in her own little way. You should see her attack Ahmed's hair with a brush and detangling spray.  

Anyway, back to my slip up. I have to watch myself more with that, I really do. I don't ask him anything more, and instead keep walking around him in circle and beating his bare upper body with the hammer. I think I know what is getting to me, what is making me slip up a little bit here and there, even though we're only two days in. It's the fact I know he's learned and wise; he's existed beyond a century and no doubt seen so much my eyes will never behold, experienced so much I never will. The little interesting facts he shares, like following that Ozzfest tour he just mentioned. I’d love to ask him about that. 

Sure, vampires have always made me feel a little uncomfortable and nervy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find them fascinating. I remember years and years ago, I had a nice chat with a lady vamp I met in a bar.

She immediately whispered 'you're not old enough to be in here, are you?' to me (I was sixteen at the time, but passed for twenty-one, incredibly enough) and a conversation was struck up because she was intrigued by my tender age. She confessed she was virgin hunting, as the blood of a virgin is not only sweeter in palette to vampires, but it gets them absolutely shit faced. Something about the purity meeting the impure. Either way, they get loaded.  

I had to let her down gently by telling her I wasn't one, but she stuck around at my table and chatted to me. She didn't stay for long before going to pursue other might-be virgins, but we did get to talking about a book I had in my bag, detailing the accounts of people left stranded and desolate after the disaster, and she sat and informed me of everything she had seen as she'd travelled Europe at the time. She was Swedish, and absolutely gorgeous. If I had any attraction to vampires at all I'd have asked her if she'd have been up for sex. Yes, I like women as much as I do men. The last person I was in a relationship with was a woman, in fact.  

I don't really find vampires sexually attractive, though. I like my flesh warm. But anyway, back to the Swedish vampire. She fascinated me on a level I've never been fascinated on before. She didn't tell me much about her life because of course, they never do, unless they trust you and few do. She did tell me about the many things she'd seen, though, and it was just so interesting.  

I was enthralled by her tales of the world, of a world I'll never know, how things used to be once upon a time. She still made me feel uncomfortable, though, even though she was friendly. It's that dead void in them I can pick up on. Wilson, Joe and Max look at me in a 'what the fuck?' kind of way when I attempt to explain it to them, but Aileen and Ahmed both get me. They can feel that same deadness about them, that empty void where the sparkle of life once glittered.

I find as the hours pass, and as he plays more and more head games with me and I with him (or at least attempt to) the more I find it difficult not to be interested and curious over some of the things he tells me. It isn't him specifically, I just find myself drawn to intelligent people since it is something I'm so unconfident in, my own intelligence, or lack of it. It's my fault I was hardly ever at school, I can't blame my shitty home life on it or the fact I had parents who really didn't care if I was educated or not. I'm not going to blame my own shortcomings on theirs.  

I could have gotten to school completely under my own steam, to the little church hall we were all educated in, since there weren't enough children in our small town to necessitate opening and running a school to educate us within. That's different now though. I used to use my parents as an excuse back then, but now I'm grown and older I see that my own youthful petulance, being angry at the world because I had shitty parents, I see that I could have helped myself a lot more in attending my classes, bettering myself above both of them. Because they didn't care, I didn't care, though.

The only time I actually attended was when they called to inform my mother of my many absences, because of what she would do to me afterwards. My mom used to enjoy the drama with my dad, she practically thrived upon it, the wild, bad tempered, alcoholic slut. My father I suspect wasn't my real father, as you know, and I think he also knew that only too well. That's why he never helped or defended me when she flew into a rage and beat the shit out of me. She was clever with it though, she never struck me where people could see, unless she punched me in the side of the head or the nose. ‘If anyone asks what happened, you tell 'em you got into a schoolyard fight, you hear? You tell anyone this was me and I'll make you sorry, Edie Larissa Bailey' is what she used to yell at me, so I never did tell anyone. Not even Vic until years after.

No sympathetic, sad little faces over there either, guys. I don't want anyone's pity. It happened, and I got over it. Well, I say I'm over it, but I have a few lingering issues because of her. I’m not quick to warm to people, for one, and because of the fear of rejection I have thanks to both of them, I can’t truly say I’ve ever let myself fall in love with anyone. So, yeah. I’m somewhat emotionally stunted as a result of being an abused child.  

I’m glad that she's dead, and the man I did believe to be my father is long gone, too. Being away from them has helped me form healthier bonds with people. I don't know where my dad went, he left when he came home and found her dead, and then packed up his things and walked out, telling me 'you deal with it, I'm done with the pair of you' while pointing at her body as he'd found it on the kitchen floor before he shut the door behind him and left my life for good.  

God knows who my real father actually is, he could be any of the locals from a long-ago burnt-out bar and club called Rochelle's here in Vegas, where all the seediest, grubbiest town folk congregated. I knew she was a cheap slut; I witnessed her leading men who weren't my dad (or maybe one of them was and he'd come back for seconds?) into her bedroom when I was little. I don't miss her at all. There's nothing to miss, because she was never a real mother to me. Anyway, enough of all that bullshit, because it doesn't even matter to me now. My life is a happier one for not having them in it.

"Wow, she shows me another expression to her face other than undiluted rage. What are you thinking about?" The vampire asks me, snapping me from my thoughts, which all involved imagining it’s my mother I'm bludgeoning with a hammer rather than him. I do channel a little of that anger over how she treated me into my job. I find it quite cathartic.  

I ignore the question put to me and instead bury the hammer in between his shoulder blades, hearing him growl in pain and take a deep breath. It's spooky, seeing him go from still to breathing. I still have to remind myself that breathing is just a bodily response they don't really control in moments such as this. "Whoever it is, they anger you. I can feel it in your blood." he then tells me, as I walk back to the table and choose what I will hurt him with next.

"That'd be you, dead man," I mutter absently. Hmmm, knife or morning star? Decisions, decisions...

He’s sharp in his retort. "It isn't me, don't lie. This anger you have within you, it's old and it's been with you for a long time. Someone you cared about really fucked you over at some point, didn't they? Not that that's particularly hard to do with dumb shit Vegas trash, such as yourself. Whatever they did, you probably didn't even see it coming, did you?" His choice of words, they further make my insides burn with anger. More mind games here. Sounding genuinely interested over what or rather who angers me at this precise moment, and then insulting me spitefully the next. He's right in what he said, though. I most certainly didn't see it coming when my mother first raised a hand to me and smacked my butt with a leather belt so hard and for so long when I was three, that I actually couldn't sit down afterwards.

"Ahhh, it must be something pretty big, since you're only getting angrier and flat out ignoring me. I know you ignore and speak to me when you choose to, because you think you're playing some kind of mind game with me, but you're not. Don't forget, you'll never be sharp enough to outsmart me, and you'll never be smart enough to do it to anyone else, either.” More goading. Don’t rise to it, Edie. Do. Not. Rise. 'Stupid little piece of shit, I wish I'd never have kept you! You're nothing but an inconvenience!' Those are the words of my mother filling my head, yet another memory of her I wish I could erase completely. Whenever anyone reminds me of my intellectual inadequacy, I'm often reminded that my mother thought much the same.

"I hope you realise by the time you're done with me, I'm going to have mentally broken you for this," I’m then told, turning back to the vampire and folding my arms.

"Why do you even care so much, about mentally breaking me? If I'm just Vegas trash to you, just some insignificant little human, as I remember you've labelled me as before, why are you even wasting the little energy you have on fucking with me, Angel?"  

"That's the first time you've ever actually spoken my name, and I liked the way you said it. Say it again.” Raising my eyebrows, I keep my arms folded, staring at him with apathy. He laughs immediately. "Ahhh, she seeks an answer to her question. Sorry, I suddenly don't feel much like talking any longer.” He casts his eyes away from me, looking all around the chamber thoughtfully. Despite himself, after a few seconds of silence, he raises his eyebrows, making a small ‘hmm’ sound in the back of his throat.  

“Interesting,” he whispers, more to himself than me. Alright, what the hell has he seen in here, or picked up on that’s gotten him so curious?

Despite myself, I cannot help but inquire. “What?”

He points at the ceiling, walls and floor. “The materials used to construct this entire chamber were fabricated pre-disaster. Everything within is made by Burlen Steel, and they ceased trading back in 2001. I damned fucking knew I was right. This place used to be a bank, didn’t it? This what we’re in right now, it’s a vault. It’s had additions added to it, AC, steel floor, etc, but yeah. This was used to house valuables in its original incarnation, not detainees.”  

He’s the only detainee to ever notice that. “How do you have so much precise knowledge on steel?” Fuck. Shouldn't have asked. Damn me and my stupid thirst for answers.  

“I used to work with metals, among other things. Knowing steel companies is something I have ingrained to memory.”

“Among other things? What, Jack of all trades and master of none?” I cannot help but spit snarkily.  

His eyes fix on me, one eyebrow fluttering a little. “Never you mind. If you won’t tell me who makes you so venomous, I ain’t saying shit about my former life. Except here’s the thing, I will find out who it is, and I will use it to break you with.” 

I do wonder why it matters to him so much to break me down, though. It’s something I can’t reconcile, so ask for advice from another over it later on in the night.

"It doesn't matter to him, not at all. He's just trying to intimidate you, chicken. Trying as best he can to make you feel like you do right now, full of questions he ain’t about to give you an answer over. He's trying to take you down to his level because despite the things he tells you, you've got the upper hand. You're the one in control and he doesn't like it one little bit. Don't take it personally," Aileen tells me over a few post-work whiskies later on. The guys have all gone to a twenty-four-hour nightclub to ring in their weekend in style. I'm tired, though, and Aileen refers to herself as 'too damned old' for nightclubs. She's only fifty-two, so that's not exactly decrepit. Decrepit, my word of the day yesterday, and I managed to use it again today. Go me! "Oh, and what happened to ignoring him?"  

"I tried being selective on what I chose to answer and what I didn't, to try and keep him guessing. Didn't work though," I sigh, lighting a cigarette after offering her one she accepts.

"It never will either, Edie.” She’s likely correct, shaking her head as she leans in to use the light I offer her.

"I know, I know now that it'll never happen. It's scary though, what he picks up on now because of this stupid blood tie. I'm two days in and I'm sick of him already. There are only so many times I can silver his throat and mouth because of the stupid rejuvenation regulations, so at most I can only shut him up for half a shift or less. I tried ignoring him but... it just doesn't work. I think that's because despite myself, despite the fact I dislike him, I do find some of the things he says are interesting.” My explanation is met by her nodding in understanding.

"I get that. They're very interesting beings because of how old they are, all they've seen and experienced, and I know you like to surround yourself with clever people because you don't think you're smart. He's just a detainee though, Edie. He's no different from the rest. You have to remember he's there to punish, not to get to know.”

"I don't want to get to know him!" I splutter, nearly choking on an ice cube as I empty the contents of my glass into my mouth.

"Oh, I think you do, going on that flustered reply. At least admit he intrigues you, which is what he's trying to do, by the way. They like being show offs, or at least I reckon he does.” He’s definitely a show off, very full of himself.

"I really don't, and sorry but what does intrigue mean?" I inquire.

Her smile is soft in the wake of that. "It means he makes you curious, buba. Also, your reply there was a little bit like you're trying to hide something else as well," she begins, but trails off when she stares at me for a few moments, like she's working me out.

"Stop staring at me like that," I demand lightly, feeling my cheeks prickling. I think I might have been a little too defensive in my reply to her just, when I stated I didn't want to get to know him.

"You’ve got the hots for his cold, dead ass, don't you, girly?" Oh god, I hate being put on the spot.

"No!" Hmm. I might’ve mustered a little too much conviction there.  

"You do, I can see it in your face, you want his cock!” she accuses. Oh, no!  

"Aileen, fuck off!" I shout, aghast in the face of her giggles.

"Oh, I was right! Edie got it bad for the vamp! That's the other thing, what I was hinting to over your reply. You're finding this tough because you think he's a hottie, oh hell no, girl!" she cries, bobbing her tongue between her teeth before putting her whiskey down to slap her hand repetitively off the table as she howls.

"I don't!" I find him attractive, but I don't want him. If I do state that to Aileen though, she'll just rip it out of me even more.

"You do! S'alright, sugar, I ain't gonna tell no one. But one thing, just you make damn sure you never let that on to him, that you like what you see, because if you do, you're done for. Mark my words."  

I still protest it; I don't even want to admit it to myself that I think he's gorgeous. I don't like finding people attractive when they loathe me as much as he does, the feeling in this case being more than mutual. Also, I don't even find vampires attractive. The thought of his cold skin against mine makes me shudder with mild repulsion.  

Nope, Angel fucking Reyes does absolutely nothing for me. Nothing. Nope. Not a single thing.  

[portaltothevoid]

For Whom the Bell Tolls - Chapter Nine - Detroit Rock City

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Kat Ramsay), sequel to Foolin’

Summary: Hellfire meets for the final time. Eddie and Kat take Chrissy back to his trailer…

Warnings: established relationship, mentions of doing drugs

Word count: 3.7k

Chapter song: Detroit Rock City by Kiss

Tag list: @munchabunch @madaboutmunson @michele131 @riffcrusader @prettyboyeddiemunson @idiot-parade​

A/N: double post today! in my opinion, this chapter is far better than the previous one, so please enjoy and know that 10 will be on it’s way soon...

After their meeting with Chrissy, Eddie and Kat made a pit stop at his van to gather the rest of the things he needed for his final campaign. From there, they made their way over to the drama room where Hellfire was held. While Eddie was setting up his spot at the head of the table along with the story map and figurines, Kat went for a vending machine run, grabbing sodas and a few snacks for everyone. 

“Are you ready for tonight’s quest, Kat the Magnificent?” Eddie asked her over his steepled hands.

“You bet your ass I am. Dustin got me up to level nine so I am a sorceress now,” she answered with a confident nodd. 

Eddie smiled at her. “What a nerd.”

Before Kat could even retort, Gareth and Jeff bursted through the door. A round of greetings occurred before they questioned Kat about her level and her character. All of which she answered with ease as she had everything about that down, as for playing the actual game, she had her notes from Dustin handy. 

Eddie had taken his place at the head of the table in his grandiose chair he dubbed his throne. Gareth and Jeff were on Eddie’s right side and Kat stood on his left when the door flew open. In sauntered Mike and Dustin.

“Wheeler. Henderson. You have better not be alone,” warned Eddie as Mike and Dustin sauntered in.

“Would we ever let you down, Eddie?” Mike asked. A young girl wearing an American flag as a cape paraded in behind the two boys.

Eddie’s hands were propped on the table, one over the other. He stared intently at the new addition to Hellfire, scrutinizing the girl in brightly colored and loud patterned clothes. After a moment’s pause, “Absolutely not,” he said.

“You asked for a sub. We delivered,” Dustin said with his hands out.

“This is Hellfire Club. Not babysitting club.” He leaned forward with a sarcastic smile on his face.

“I’m 11, you long-haired freak,” the girl fired back. Kat bit her lip to hide her smirk.

“My, my, the child speaks.” Eddie smiled up to Kat, who let out a chuckle even though it was at the girl’s attitude not at Eddie’s observation. He got up from his seat and asked, “So, what’s your name, child?”

“Erica Sinclair.”

Eddie chuckled. “So this is Sinclair’s infamous sister.” 

Erica rolled her eyes and looked back at Dustin and Mike. “He’s sharp,” she said flatly, clearly being sarcastic.

Kat let out a laugh. She liked this girl already. Gareth and Jeff looked at each other and also laughed. Eddie gave everyone a piercing look that instantly brought their faces back to neutral. Even though as soon as Eddie’s head was turned again, Kat kept a smirk on her face.

“What’s your class and level? Level one dwarf?” Eddie taunted. Gareth and Jeff erupted into laughter again.

“My name is Lady Applejack. I’m a chaotic good half-elf rogue, level 14. And I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri,” Erica snapped back. “And I’ll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death. So, we gonna do this, or we gonna keep chit-chatting like this is your mommy’s book club?” she demanded.

Everyone’s eyebrows shot up as she spoke. They all watched in anticipation, unable to predict how Eddie would respond. Mike winced as he waited. With the exception of Kat, who couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she nodded in approval at how much fire and sass Erica had. She knew Eddie felt the same.

He stared at her for a moment before his face broke into a smile. He held out his hand to Erica and simply responded with, “Welcome to Hellfire.” Skeptically, Erica accepted and shook his hand. “Alright. Everyone, get in your seats. We’re starting this shit,” he said as he twirled his finger in the air to round everyone up. 

When Mike and Dustin were beside him, he slapped them both on the back. “Good work, gentlemen. I had faith you two could get your bo-peeps on. Hellfire just might stand the test of time after all.” Mike jumped, startled by the aggressive affection.

“Thank you, thank you,” Dustin said with a triumphant smile.

Kat took her place at the table, still to the left of Eddie’s seat. He leaned in behind her, over her shoulder. “Oh and Kat?” he began, “Don’t try to control the outcome. Let the dice fall where they may.”

Kat shot her gaze towards Eddie. “Now what would be the fun in that?” She rolled her eyes at him. “I can’t believe you’d even thought to say that to me,” she glared at him.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Just wanted to make the rules clear.” He then went on to put the finishing touches around the room as everyone settled in. Erica sat right beside her and began setting up, but not before her, Dustin, and Mike exchanged questioning glances with each other, having overheard Eddie.

“Is she like…?” Mike mouthed to his friends.

Dustin quickly shook his head. “No. No. She can’t be. There’s no way…” He started out sure of his statement, but by the end, his face was filled with skepticism. Erica just questioningly raised her eyebrows, until she heard Kat address her.

“Erica, I’m Kat. Pleasure to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Mhm. Class and level?” she asked, shaking her hand.

“Chaotic neutral elf sorceress, level 9.”

“Pfft. And he gave me shit thinking I was a low level,” Erica said as she shook her head.

Kat leaned over to Erica, whispering, “Eddie was just testing you. Trust me, he thinks he’s rough around the edges, but he’s the closest thing to a human teddy bear I’ve ever met. You were in the moment you gave him sass, which by the way, I adored every second of.”

Erica couldn’t help but give Kat a small smile. “Thanks,” she quietly chuckled. 

“Everyone ready?” Eddie asked the group.

 A chorus of ayes sounded throughout the room. He dimmed the lights and slowly took his place once again at the head of the table. The candles that were lit flickered, casting an eerie glow. Behind his dungeon master screen, he looked over the group one last time before he got right into character.

“We last left off hearing voices in the far distance. As you all approached, it was coming from hooded figures… They are in the middle of worship, sending praise to the one with the utmost power.” He paused as everyone was listening intently, on the edge of their seat to find out what exactly this campaign’s epic finale entailed. “The hooded cultists chant ‘Hail Lord Vecna. Hail Lord Vecna,’” he continued. “They turn to you, remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize. His skin is shriveled, dessicated. There’s something else. He is not only missing his left arm,” Eddie began to rise from his chair, placing his left arm behind his back, “but his left eye!” he emphasized as he used his right hand to also cover his own left eye. 

Everyone’s reaction to the final boss reveal was priceless, all were clamoring.

“What!” Kat and Erica exclaimed.

“No! No! Shit!” Mike grimaced, rubbing his face.

Dustin threw his pencil down.

“Vecna’s dead!” shouted Jeff.

“He was killed by Kas,” interjected Mike.

“So it was thought, my friends. So it was thought. But Vecna… lives!” Eddie stated as he slammed Vecna’s figure in the center of the map. He then slyly asked, “Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?” As the group took a brief pause to make their decision, Eddie encouraged them with a “Come on...”

“I say we fight,” Dustin said. “To the death.”

“To the death!” Erica agreed. 

Everyone else followed by chanting and rhythmically slamming their hands on the table, “To the death! To the death! To the death!” 

Eddie couldn’t have had a bigger smile on his face as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, alright then. Let’s play,” he said as his smile turned devilish. 

The dice rolled across the board. When they landed in the group’s favor, they all clapped and cheered. But soon, they began to drop one… by… one.

First Mike was out. In protest he slammed his hands on the table as he shouted “No! No!” Next Jeff was down. Somehow Kat was still hanging on, having just enough power with her spells. At times she did need guidance, but everyone was gracious as they helped her out. Even Erica lent her words of encouragement after being briefed about how Kat even got a spot in the club.

When their rolls were high enough to cast some damage to Vecna, they cheered, but that was quickly short-lived as the next set of dice did not turn out in their favor. Her luck had finally run out.

“Come on!” Dustin yelled, throwing his hands up.

Eddie stood up “Have you had enough?” he challenged.

Dustin also got up to menacingly point at him. This campaign was sadistic, indeed. 

Eddie cackled wickedly just before he knocked over Gareth’s figurine, signaling he was also out. 

“Time out! Time out!” Gareth cried out as he tapped his hands together in a T shape. Eddie waved the group on as they got up and formed a huddle.

“Guys, I hate to say this, but we have got to flee,” Gareth said regretfully.

“I concur,” Jeff agreed.

“Didn’t we all just agree ‘to the death’?” Erica asked.

“That wasn’t literal!” Gareth spoke through gritted teeth.

“I thought you guys were ready to fight this asshole!” Kat added.

“Vecna just decimated us. We can’t kill him with just two players!” Jeff countered.

“You too?” Dustin asked, appalled. “He has 15 hit points left. Don’t be pussies.”

“Pussies? Really? Because we’re not delusional?” Gareth spat.

“Delusional? How about not cowards?” Erica shot back. 

“Hey!” Eddie yelled from across the room. “If I may interject, ladies and gentlemen. Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the Great’s concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don’t try to be heroes. Not today, ‘kay?”

Dustin squinted his eyes at the dungeon master and held up a finger. “One sec.” The group returned to their huddle.

“What do you think, Mike?” Dustin asked him.

“How many hit points do you and Applejack have left?”

“Twelve,” Dustin and Erica said in unison.

“It’s risky as hell,” Mike noted. Dustin nodded in agreement. “But you’re the ones on the battlefield,” Mike continued. “So it’s your call.”

“What do you say, Lady Applejack?” Dustin asked.

“You really gotta ask?” she replied.

Briefly, Dustin pondered his choices. Then he quickly shook his head. “Screw it.” The huddle broke and he turned to face Eddie. “Let’s kill the son of a bitch.”

“The chances of success are 20-to-1,” said Jeff wearily.

Again, Dustin held up one finger. “Never tell me the odds. Give me the d20.”

With an impish smile, Eddie tossed him the die, which Dustin caught effortlessly. He took a deep breath before cupping it in his hands to give it a shake. It was now or never. He let it roll onto the playing board. The anticipation made time feel almost painful. They watched as it bounced and slowly… rolled… to… reveal… the… number…

Eleven.

“That’s… a… MISS!” Eddie yelled, shaking his head.

No’s rang out behind Dustin as he cried, “Shit! Shit!” He hit an empty can of Mountain Dew, sending it flying.

As Erica retrieved the d20, Eddie gave Kat a stern look, which Dustin saw. Kat stepped back and held her hands up, pushing them away from her in surrender. Dustin went to furrowed his brows, but was quickly distracted as Erica had the die in her hands. She clasped it. She shook it not once, not twice, not even thrice. 

“Come on!” Dustin yelled.

“Please! Please!” cried Gareth.

“I can’t even watch,” Kat said, covering her eyes, but moved her index finger over so she could peak.

She shook it eleven times in her hands before letting it go. Everyone watched as it rolled, eyes giant with apprehension, mouths agape. 

“Please!” Gareth repeatedly begged.

“Come on!” Dustin yelled again.

Until… finally… it stopped.

Eddie leaned forward while the group watched on with baited breath as they also peered at the die.

Somehow, some way, it had landed on twenty.

“Crit hit!” Erica cheered.

“Yeah!” Everyone shouted, clapped, and jumped up and down. The odds were stacked against them, but the odds were never zero. 

“What!? What?!” Eddie exclaimed as he brought his hands to his chest and turned left and right, also in shock that they were able to pull it off. He clapped his hands once and leaned forward with the biggest smile on his face. “That’s why we play! That’s why we play!”

Erica turned to him victoriously with her hands on her hips. Eddie put his hands out to her and bowed. The group had beat his campaign, sure, but it was all thanks to her.

Slowly, the initial celebration, the hooping and hollering, died down as everyone gathered their things to head home. The high from the win was going strong. As everyone but Kat and Eddie headed out, their boisterousness could be heard from down the hall. Eddie’s smile never left his face.

“That was seriously the most fun I have had in so, so long,” Kat commented.

“I told you, it’s a fun fucking game.”

“Okay, okay, fine! You were right! I’m so glad, though, that this was the game I played.”

“You know what this means right?”

“What?”

Eddie zipped up his bag, having finished putting away the last of his things. He walked right up to Kat, leaned into her, and spoke into her ear. “You are officially a nerd.” She smiled as she rolled her eyes and teasingly pushed his chest.

Her smile was all of a sudden wiped from her face as a piercing pain shot through her head. Wincing, she immediately dropped to her knees, followed by Eddie with his arms outstretched to grab ahold of her. When the pain lessened, she looked up at him, eyes alight with worry.

“I know, I know. Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said soothingly.

“No, Eddie. This was different. I saw… I’m not sure what I saw. But it was like this red glowing… portal? I– We have to get to Chrissy.” Kat bottled upright and hurried to the van with Eddie right beside her.

“Did you see something’s gonna happen to her?”

“No, but… I wish I could explain. All I know is something doesn’t feel right.” Kat sighed, frustrated with having an exponential amount of questions than answers to anything.

When they arrived at the van, everyone had mostly cleared out with the championship game having ended around the same time that Hellfire did. Eddie had picked Kat up this morning, so she hopped into the van. 

“Can you start the van, please?” Kat asked. 

Eddie nodded. He knew she needed the radio on, so he turned it up. She breathed out a sigh of relief as Motörhead filled the van’s interior. He glanced in the side view mirror and saw Chrissy poking her head out to check if the coast was clear. She then quickly trotted across the parking lot. “I see her,” he whispered. Kat slid herself over til her side was flush with his, but that last for a brief second as Eddie got out to open the door for Chrissy.

“Your chariot of rust awaits,” he said with a bow. Chrissy giggled.

“Always one for theatrics,” Kat said with a smile.

Once Eddie was back in the driver’s seat, Kat moved herself right against him. She shut her eyes tightly as her stomach felt like it was doing flips now that Chrissy was next to her. To distract herself, she focused on Eddie’s words and the hum of guitars in the background. Slowly, her nausea subsided.

“So, how was the cheer thing?” Eddie asked.

“It was great! We won!”

“All thanks to you, I’m sure,” Eddie said, flashing her a galant smile.

“No, actually it was Lucas… um… Sinclair that scored the winning point.”

“Huh, I’ll be damned. At least missing Hellfire was worth it for him,” Eddie said, slightly gritting his teeth and pouting as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. 

Chrissy looked concerned at Eddie’s sudden change in mood.

“Lucas missed the final Hellfire meeting for the championship game, so Eddie’s a little bitter about it. Don’t mind him.” Kat informed Chrissy as she leaned into her as he took a corner fast. “Also, don’t mind his driving,” she laughed.

“My driving is just fine!” he defended with a laugh.

“Yeah for a maniac!” Kat shot back.

“You’ve never complained before.”

“Because I’m from LA, I’m used to this. Poor Chrissy probably has her life flashing before her eyes.”

“I’m fine, really. As long as we don’t crash,” Chrissy giggled nervously as the music quieted while the song changed. 

Within the first couple of notes of “Iron Fist” by Motörhead, Eddie and Kat both reached to turn it up. Kat conceded first, laughing to herself as Eddie turned up the volume. They were close to his home anyway. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat, while Kat was head banging. “Black night, nothing to see. Invisible hand in front of me. Scared to death someone’s near. Scared to move, but you can’t stay here,” they both sang along, giving Chrissy a mini performance. She just watched, clearly amused by both of them and also moving her head to the fast beat. 

After the first chorus, Kat reached to turn it down a few notches. “You’ll be my new best friend if you know who that song is by,” Kat said to Chrissy.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea.”

“Oh, Chrissy, we have so much to teach you,” Eddie said.

“Hang on now, we can’t force her to be a full fledged freak. Do you like the song?”

“Um, yeah, actually. It’s loud and angry? And I get angry a lot, but I always have to hide it.”

Kat put her hand over her heart and sighed. “She gets it. You get it! Yes! So this is ‘Iron Fist’ by an English band named Motörhead.”

“Oh! Is that what the patch on your chest is for, Eddie?”

He glanced over at her with a twinkle of pride in his eye. “That is exactly what that patch is.”

“Alright, I’m turning this shit back up! Now, one way to enjoy metal or rock ‘n’ roll music is to headbang. Just follow my lead!” Eddie shook his head back and forth so he was still able to see the road, while Kat went all out. 

“Okay, I really should see you guys at The Hideout!” Chrissy said as she just let herself go after watching Kat for a handful of seconds. Her smile was plastered on her face as she laughed and just had more fun than she had in months.

Soon enough, Eddie slammed the van into park outside of his trailer. He cut the engine and blaring music ceased. He stepped out of the van, Kat followed behind him, and Chrissy gently hopped out. 

“This is, uh, my castle,” he said as he slammed his door shut. With a few long strides, he got to the door and opened it, ushering Chrissy in first with Kat right behind her. 

“Sorry for the mess,” Eddie smiled apologetically to Chrissy as he picked up trash he had neglected to throw away. “Uh, maid took the week off.”

“Jesus, Eddie. I’ve only been at my aunts for two nights!” Kat scolded as she went into the kitchen to clean it up and rummage for some snacks.

Chrissy was too distracted by the Munson’s collection of mugs and hats to notice. “You, um… You live here alone?”

“With my uncle. But, uh, he works nights at the plant. Bringing home the big bucks,” he said as he was searching in various places for the reason they had invited her over.

“How long does it take?” Chrissy asked quickly, her nerves clearly getting the best of her.

“Sorry?”

“The Special K. How long to kick in?”

“Oh, uh, well, it depends if you snort it or not,” he said, still searching through a drawer. “Uh, if you do, then, uh, yeah. It’ll kick in pretty quick. Oh, shit,” he muttered.

“You forgot where you hid it, didn’t you?” Kat asked absentmindedly. 

“You sure you have it?” Chrissy asked.

“No, no, I got it. Um, somewhere.”

“Check your room. It was left over from last week’s party drop,” Kat suggested.

“Uh… right…” he said as he turned and trotted down the hall to his room. The girls heard him strum his guitar as he greeted it.

Kat shook her head. “If there’s anything he loves more than me, it’s that guitar of his, I swear.” She glanced over at Chrissy who was standing in the middle of the living room, nervously lacing her fingers together. The poor girl couldn’t stay still as she also kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Hey, he’ll find it. Just takes him a while to retrace his steps.”

Chrissy nodded. “Does it… does it hurt to snort it?”

“It’s weird at first. I won’t lie, it’s a little uncomfortable, but you get used to it. It really does kick in faster that way, so you forget about it quick.” Kat gave her a reassuring smile, which Chrissy could barely return. She spun around and opened the fridge. “You want anything to drink? There’s, uh… Well, there’s not much. Looks like there’s milk. Gross. Some questionable orange juice… But of course there’s plenty of beer!”

Before Chrissy could even answer, she heard the clock that had been haunting her chime. Kat instantly stopped looking in the fridge, closed it, and froze. “Do you hear it too?” she asked Kat.

“Yeah… I do…” Kat said as she reached for the back of her neck to feel the goosebumps that caused her hair to stand on end. 

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[4acesofspades]

answer every single question on that ask game you reblogged xD

Welp, you asked, so here goes nothing..

(It didn't number right, but the questions are still labeled right)

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? 

Spotify

is your room messy or clean?

Pretty clean, sometimes there’s clothes on the floor

what color are your eyes?

Blue 

do you like your name? Why?

Not really, it’s way too common 

what is your relationship status? 

Married

describe your personality in 3 words or less

Old fashioned weirdo

what color hair do you have?

Natural blonde

what kind of car do you drive? Color?

Silver Honda Accord 

where do you shop?

Mostly Walmart 

how would you describe your style?

Cheap and changes depending on my mood. Sometimes it's sundresses and sometimes it's leather jackets.

favorite social media account

Like type of social media?  Or specific account?  My favorite type is probably tumblr but I don’t have a specific favorite account

what size bed do you have? 

I share a queen with my husband but in my room (yes I also have my own room) I have a twin 

any siblings?

One sister 

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? Why?

Maybe on the border in the us to help with the refugee crisis

favorite snapchat filter? 

I don’t use filters 

favorite makeup brand(s)

I couldn’t tell ya.  My mother in law buys my makeup. 

how many times a week do you shower?

Whenever my hair gets unmanageable

favorite tv show?

Ho boy, Leverage or Emergency! Probably 

shoe size?

8.5 women’s

how tall are you?

5 foot, 7 inches

sandals or sneakers? 

I have tanline stripes on my feet lol, definitely sandals.  But cheap, comfy ones

do you go to the gym? 

If I’m actively training for a race, then yeah.  Otherwise I hate it.

describe your dream date

On our honeymoon we got to stay in a (supposedly) haunted mansion in New York.  It was amazing.  Also it would be awesome to like, go through someone’s attic or something? 

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

I have a bunch of culver’s coupons?

what color socks are you wearing? 

None, I’m wearing sandals :) 

how many pillows do you sleep with?

One

do you have a job? what do you do? 

Nope, I’ve been looking for 5 months and haven’t found anything in my field, but I would love to work for a nonprofit.

how many friends do you have? 

Not many.  I have a few acquaintances I met in college, a couple good friends from high school, and some of my husband’s friends that I consider good friends as well

whats the worst thing you have ever done? 

Cut my best friend out of my life in order to get rid of another (toxic) relationship.  Regret it every single day. 

whats your favorite candle scent? 

There’s these Fir tree or whatever candles they sell around Christmas that smell just like the holidays and they’re my favorite

3 favorite boy names

Mason

Cameron

Eliot

3 favorite girl names

Eleanora

Rosalind

Kalia (Ka-lee-a)

favorite actor? 

I don’t really have one lol. I like the guy that plays Eliot on Leverage, and I like the guy that plays Johnny on Emergency, but I don’t really follow celebrities too much. 

favorite actress? 

See above 

who is your celebrity crush?

Despite my previous statements, I have a massive crush on Cote de Pablo. 

favorite movie? 

Idk if I could choose just one! Encanto and Moana for disney movies, McFarland, USA and The Outsiders for other movies, National Lampoons Christmas Vacation and 

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? 

I read quite a bit.  I couldn’t possibly choose a favorite book, but the most influential has been The Latehomecomer by Kao Kalia Yang

money or brains? 

Brains, always.  You can get along without money but not without brains 

do you have a nickname? what is it? 

My dad calls me flounderlips and squidlips and flapjoint.

how many times have you been to the hospital?

Couple times for migraines.

top 10 favorite songs

Currently? Or of all time?  We’re gonna go with currently as the list changes constantly. 

 Best Bad Habit by Danny Warsnop 

 Quiet as a Rat by Amigo the Devil 

Coat of Many Colors by Dolly Parton 

We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel 

Godmanchester Chinese Bridge by The Howl and The Hum 

Outlaw Pete by Bruce Springsteen 

A Symptom of Being Human by Shinedown 

Sometimes on a Sunday by The Glorious Sons 

Sing for the Common Man by Dolly Parton 

The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot  

do you take any medications daily? 

Yeah I take migraine meds twice a day and vitamins at night

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

Idk, normal? I’ve never really thought about it 

what is your biggest fear? 

Amounting to nothing, probably.  I’m also pretty claustrophobic 

how many kids do you want? 

3

whats your go to hair style?

I have curly hair so wash and scrunch. Usually it’s in a ponytail or lazy bun 

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) 

Big old house built in 1925.  

who is your role model? 

I don’t have a specific role model.  I try to pull bits and pieces from all different things in life- favorite authors, people I meet, tv shows, parents, teachers, and friends, etc. 

what was the last compliment you received?

My husband told me my novel idea was incredibly original. 

what was the last text you sent?

I told my friends I don’t like frosted cookies as much as I used to. 

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

1st grade

what is your dream car? 

1967 Chevy Impala SS Coupe. I have indeed put much thought and research into this.  I would also be interested in a 1967 Shelby Cobra but I’ve never even seen one in person

opinion on smoking?

If you’re going to smoke I’d rather you smoke cigarettes around me than vape.  Idk but vaping really gets under my skin. 

do you go to college? 

Graduated December 2022

what is your dream job? 

I want to work for a nonprofit in their immigration department helping immigrants and refugees settle in and work through their transition to America.  Would also be interested in someday working as an immigration lawyer 

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? 

Rural.  Our town has about 3000 people.

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? 

I used to but I don’t anymore. 

do you have freckles? 

No

do you smile for pictures?

Yes

how many pictures do you have on your phone? 

1062

have you ever peed in the woods? 

Many times

do you still watch cartoons? 

All the time.  

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

Never had Wendy’s nuggies and I don’t really like McDonald’s 

Favorite dipping sauce? 

Fun fact, I don’t like any dipping sauce. 

what do you wear to bed? 

Shorts and a tshirt 

have you ever won a spelling bee?

HA good joke

 what are your hobbies?

Writing and music 

can you draw? 

Not even a little 

do you play an instrument?

Flute, clarinet, saxophone, and I’m learning guitar 

what was the last concert you saw? 

Nothing More last year 

tea or coffee?

I like both 

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

Neither 

do you want to get married?

Been married over 2 years 

what is your crush’s first and last initial?

My husband’s name is Daniel ;) 

are you going to change your last name when you get married? 

Yup, it was a pain in the butt 

what color looks best on you? 

I like dark red on me

do you miss anyone right now? 

Yes, my best friend in high school 

do you sleep with your door open or closed?

Door closed, I watch a lot of Emergency and am paranoid of housefires 

do you believe in ghosts?

Kind of

what is your biggest pet peeve? 

When somebody’s turning left and the person behind them can’t wait 2 SECONDS for them to turn and they speed around them on the shoulder

last person you called`

My daddy 

favorite ice cream flavor? 

Chocolate

regular oreos or golden oreos? 

For knockoffs, golden.  For name brand, regular. 

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? 

Rainbow

what shirt are you wearing? 

I’m not, I’m wearing a sundress. 

what is your phone background?

Nate and Eliot from Leverage being dorks 

are you outgoing or shy?

I’m really shy until I get to know people 

do you like it when people play with your hair?

Depends on the state of affairs.  If it’s already a mess I love it, if I just watched it, you’re risking your life by touching my curls 

do you like your neighbors? 

Yeah they’re nice. 

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

At night

have you ever been high? 

Nope

have you ever been drunk? 

Nope

last thing you ate? 

Salmon

favorite lyrics right now

From Quiet as a Rat by Amigo the Devil: “Time doesn’t respect what doesn’t respect it/ And kind isn’t a word I would use for man/ If everyone’s made in his image and even he couldn’t perfect it/ Then what the hell makes anyone think we can”

summer or winter? 

Summer for sure. I live in Wisconsin 

day or night? 

Day. I like the sun 

dark, milk, or white chocolate? 

Dark 

favorite month? 

I like May and June, but also September and October 

what is your zodiac sign

Aquarius 

 who was the last person you cried in front of? 

My husband