#quick drawstring bags

[thebibliosphere]

I bought some cute strawberry-themed fabric to make a drawstring bag.

@mothman-etd walked by earlier while I was at the sewing machine and asked if I was making pillowcases, and I kind of lol'd at him and explained what the project was actually for. (housing the extra plates of the gridle when they're not in use, just so I don't have to keep moving them around/washing them when they get dusty)

But then I realized I had enough fabric left over to make a pillowcase, so I ran it up real quick for a laugh, thinking I could put it on the guest bed. Long story short, it's so stinking cute I can't stand it. I want it for our bed, so I'm hitting up the fabric seller again to see if they have enough to make it a matching set, and also working out in another tab how many yards of fabric you need to make a king-size duvet cover.

Will I be able to afford the fabric needed to make a duvet cover? All signs indicate no, but I can leave it in my cart indefinitely and live eternally in hope.

[kayiieu]

₊ ⊹ ๋࣭⭑ good luck charm

0.7k words

fluff probably ooc sae shidou mention !

one of the most meaningful gifts you ever gave sae were two bracelets–if you could even call them that. they were two bands–one black and one white–that could be slipped on and off easily. you wanted to give him something that was convenient for him to wear, as he was a busy soccer player.

you had your own pairs as well, also black and white. you decided to gift them the night before a decisive match between Re Al and Barcha.

“sae, can i give you something? it’s kind of like a good luck charm…” you asked softly. sae looked up from his book, giving you a curious look.

he hummed in response, intrigued. “mm, sure.”

you reached towards to table next to you, in your hands a small drawstring bag. ���i was out a couple of days ago and bought these matching bracelets,” you said, opening the bag.

you reached in, fishing them out. “i don’t know if you’ll like them, but uh– i made sure they’d be convenient for you to wear. and um– i didn’t know if you’d like black or white, so i got you both…” you trailed off.

you handed him the bracelets, letting sae pick. he examined both the black and white pairs before answering, “we can just wear both colors?”

sae watched your eyes light up, your head nodding. he held the black and white bracelets before sliding them onto his right wrist. you tried them on as well, the material comfortable on your skin.

“thank you, dear,” he said, a small smile peeking through. “i’m sure i’ll play well tomorrow, thanks to these.”

you giggle at his response, “you always play well, sae.”

1 minute and 17 seconds left until the referee’s whistle blows, and the match is over. 1 minute and 17 seconds left to turn a tie of 3-3 to a win of 4-3. you sit on the stands, a seat close to the field, your body jittery with anticipation. Barcha is still in possession of the ball, and time is ticking down.

you can tell by the look on his face that sae is fiending for a goal. luckily enough, sae’s teammate guards the opposing player, successfully stealing the ball away. the ball is then passed to sae swiftly, and he controls the ball with skill.

sae turns, his pace quickening. with only 45 seconds left on the clock, and being close enough to the penalty box, he takes a shot, the ball forming an extraordinary arch in the air. the goal occurs at an insane angle, one only itoshi sae could pull off.

the crowd breaks into cheers, and the whistle signifing the end of the match blows moments after. sae’s teammates pile on top of him before he can push them all off, cheering for him.

sae never has celebrations for a goal, but this time, he raises his right arm and looks up at the stands to you, smiling brightly. the bracelets seem to reflect the fluorescent lights of the stadium, twinkling.

you smile back at sae and wave, your two bracelets peeking out.

bonus content !

after a long day of practice, sae’s jersey sticks to his skin uncomfortably, the stuffy atmosphere of the locker room not improving his mood. with his body drenched in sweat, all he wants is to take a shower and go home back to you. he’s quick with changing out of his jersey, pulling his shirt and sweats back on. his bracelets are on the bench behind him, resting on top of his backpack.

shidou walks into the locker room last, opening up his locker that was conveniently assigned next to sae’s. shidou glances back at the bench before asking, “yo, sae. i’ve always meant to ask, but what’s with those bracelets? they from your girl or what?”

sae replies snarkily, “piss off. it’s none of your business, roach.” he reaches behind and gently slides the bracelets back onto his wrist before slamming his locker door shut.

shidou laughs in response, “hey, no need to get all defensive! guess i was right, huh?”

sae doesn’t respond, though his ears are tinged with pink. he packs up as quickly as he can before trudging out the locker room with his backpack and gear slung over his shoulder, ignoring shidou’s obnoxious teasing.

happy birthday to the one and only itoshi sae !! i rly hope sae wasn’t too ooc ( first time writin for him !! ) & i hope the match wasn’t too boring jsjhshj,,, apparently,, Re Al and Barcha are rivaling teams, and even tho i’m a Barcha fan thru n thru, i had to make Re Al win this one </3 hehe as always thank u all for reading this far & have a great day/night !! i luv u babies ^.^

tags : @egoistars @laughingfcx

[sparklingchim]

lwh oc distracting jungkook while he’s working out or boxing 😋😗😉

word count: 1.1k

warnings: jelly n possessive koo 😋, spit !!, blowjob, titty fuck, dirty talk, boob-obsessed jk obv, cum play, cum eating, the initial necklace makes a comback !

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

"20 minutes ago, you said you'd be done in five minutes."

Your huffed complaint barely reaches Jungkook's ears as he continues to throw punches at the heavy bag in front of him.

You're sitting cross-legged next to him, pulling at his shorts to pull his attention towards you.

"Just five more minutes, baby." He casts a quick glance at you before focusing on his training again.

"I'm boored."

Your fingers trail to his drawstrings. You pull at them without Jungkook noticing. His black Calvin's peek out and your inital idea to just annoy him morphs into something more impish.

Your fingertips slowly brush over the front of his joggers.

Jungkook’s little grunts from above come to a halt when he peers down at you, brows pulled together in confusion. He tilts his head to the side when you meet his gaze with a mischievous smile.

“Baby.” Jungkook’s chest rises with every heavy breath, his skin shimmering with sweat. “What are you doing?”

“Relax for a bit, Koo,” you say softly. Hand cupping him through the fabric. “This is only making you angrier.” Batting your eyelashes you ask, “What’s got you so mad, hm?”

“Nothin’,” he mumbles, eyes closed as you squeeze him.

You can’t shake the feeling that Jungkook is still holding onto some tension from last night’s Christmas gathering. While having dinner with friends and hitting up a bar, you couldn’t ignore Jungkook’s upset pout on his face, the lingering glances with his doe eyes and his subtly possessive hands always reaching for you.

And all that just because he was jealous of Taehyung. It’s been ages since you last saw Taehyung, your former high school boyfriend, and there was a lot to catch up on. Jungkook pretended it didn’t bother him, but his façade crumbled easily – just like now, with his tense jaw and clenched hands in white wraps, still staunchly denying any reason for his anger.

“I’m a much better distraction than punching a stupid bag, don’t you think?” You pull his joggers and briefs down in one motion and crawl on your knees in front of him. Your mouth closes around his tip and Jungkook shudders.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You sure no one will come here?” you ask, stroking his cock with your hand.

“It’s been closed for hours.” Jungkook gathers your hair in his fist. “I wouldn’t let anyone see you like this. But we can go to the office if you don’t feel comfortable here.”

“I’m fine,” you mutter around his cock. You take him deeper into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his hard dick. Your eyes sting with tears when his tip reaches the back of your throat. Jungkook curses, holding your head in that position.

“So cute,” he mutters. His thumb brushes over the little tear in the corner of your eye. He moves his hips back a little before he pushes his cock further down your throat again. “Damn, baby. Taking my cock so well.”

You heave for air once he’s all the way out, hands unconsciously squeezing his muscular thighs. Jungkook strokes his cock in leisurely movements. You dip your head and gently suck on his balls. His head falls back, plush mouth parted to utter soft moans.

You feel Jungkook tugging on your pullover. “Lemme see your tits,” he urges.

Your tongue sweeps from his balls across his cock till you give him a little kiss on the tip. A lovestruck smile settles on his face, growing even bigger when he sees your naked tits.

He bends forward to squeeze the supple flesh in his hands, rolling them around in his palms. His tongue pokes his cheek, a hungry look creeping into his eyes.

“Wanna fuck them,” he says.

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, raising a little on your knees.

Jungkook spits down on his cock, rubbing it all over himself. He teases your puckered nipples with his tip, pulling a couple whines from you. You let a droplet of spit trail down on the valley between your tits and he catches it with his cock, rubbing spreading the bit of lubrication on your skin.

You press your boobs against his cock. A shaky breath slips Jungkook’s mouth and moves his hips in needy motions.

“Fuck, I love fucking your tits,” he rasps. His eyes travel over the dainty necklace around your throat, a sparkly J moving along his thrusts. “All mine.” He cups your face, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“You always want me, right? Always gonna be mine.”

“Uh-huh. Always.”

“Good girl.”

Your tummy tingles and you smile up at him.

Jungkook lubricates his cock with more saliva “Tits are so soft,” he whispers. “Gonna cum all over them.” His grunts turn louder as he gets closer to cumming.

He looks so pretty above you with his chiselled chest glistening, cheeks tinted in a rosy colour and his doe eyes looking down at you with lust and adoration.

“’m so close.” His hips stagger and you feel his cum shooting over your chest. Jungkook slows down, watching his cum paint over your boobs with drowsy eyes. “Fuck,” he moans, palming his cock and squeezing out the last bits.

“Feeling better now?” you ask, blinking up at him.

“So much better.” He runs the tip of his cock over his cum, smearing it across your tits. Gathering a bit of cum on his cock, he holds it in front of your mouth. You lick the cum off his tip and swallow it.

“Next time when we’re hanging out with Taehyung you don’t have to get jealous,” you tell Jungkook as you stand up.

His gaze is fixed on your cum-covered boobs before he casts his eyes up, an offended frown contorting his face.

“I wasn’t jealous!”

“No?” You raise your brows. “Your hands just naturally were all over me when I talked to Tae?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

You giggle. “Stop being silly.” You throw your arms around his neck, standing on your tip toes. “You’re the only one I want,” you whisper and give him a soft kiss.

“I know.” Jungkook’s fingers skim over your back. “Just need to hear it more often.” He plants another sweet kiss on your lips.

Jungkook’s phone starts ringing.

“Time to pick up Nabi!” you exclaim, eyes sparkling.

Jungkook grins, pulling up his sweatpants and briefs.

“Lemme get some tissues for you first.”

“You think Nabi was a bit mean to Namjoon again?” you ask.

“Oh, she loves annoying him.”

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Polaroid perfect

Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader 🔞

Rick learns the truth about his daughter's relationahip in a very unpleasant way.

A quick in and out, that was all Rick and Daryl had planned for the day.

Rick sat crouched in an abandoned hallway, planning their strategy of going through the section of houses they had selected.

"You brought the list, right?" Rick asked Daryl who was busying himself with the initial walker check.

"S'in ma bag." The archer's voice sounded as he stepped back after declaring the house safe. " ya know, like e'rythin' else cuz ya refused ta bring yers."

Rick only responded with a mumbled repeat of Daryl's words and reached over to grab the dull green canvas bag that sat against the dust covered side table.

He had to take another folded up bag out that laid on top of their supplies. 'Really? We've got bags in the car..' Rick shook his head to himself and fished for the supply lists people had given them, pulling the papers out and scattering them over the floor as a corner caught on the bag's drawstring.

"The hell?"

Rick's voice of surprise had Daryl turn and look his way, freezing the second his eyes landed on the items scattered on the wooden floor.

Both men were silent as they stares from one photo to the next.

A simple photo of you smiling, with Daryl kissing your cheek.

"Oh, look! It has a tiny mirror thingie! Can we try to take a photo together, please?" With an eye roll and a huffed laugh Daryl complied and sat down next to you for a photo. "Dunno why yer willin' ta waste film on a guy like me." He mumbled against your skin as you raised the camera to position it right.

Just as you pressed the button to snap the photo, Daryl pressed his lips to your cheek.

Next to it a less innocent one, of your chest. Rick easily recognized it with how your hair was visible and the scar on your shoulder he tended to when it was a fresh wound. Daryl's tattooed hand was covering one of them, a gauze patch peeking up from underneath his hand.

"Tha' wasn't so bad now was it?" Daryl kissed your cheek as he readied a gauze to place over the freshly cut lines in your skin. You winced as you moved, but shook your head. "It was okay I guess.."

After Daryl had applied the gauze you slumped down on your back, arms crossed around your chest. It was a sight to see, according to Daryl, who had placed his hand over your gauze covered skin and snapped a photo.

As Rick scanned the images one by one, Daryl stood frozen with his eyes on just one of the frames.

Your lower half, marked in bruises and fresh bitemarks. Legs spread around scarred hips and a cock buried to the hilt inside of you. On your thigh a small fresh cut heart still bled.

Sighs and pants filled the air in the small, dusty room you were holed up. "Shit, yer gonna be the end'a me one day.." Daryl's gruff voice was barely above a whisper, thrusting into you and staring at where you teo connected. It looked like he was in a trance, until your voice pulled him back. "Why don't you take a pic? For when you're on the road."

There were more, some laying faced down but it was clear the whole collection had the same theme.

"Daryl.." Rick didn't bring his eyes up to meet the hunter. Instead they were focused on the most explicit photo that was in his view. He had no interest in seeing what Daryl packed below the belt. And even less in seeing it inside of his daughter.

A hand slammed down on the printed paper, a loud smack sounded through the hallway.

"You're sleeping with my daughter?" In his eyes a dark stare, his hand still spread over a photo. Daryl knew exactly what photo.

Daryl nodded his head. "..yeah. She asked me. Asked 'er ta keep quiet, dun wanted folk talkin' bout shit tha had nothin' ta do with 'em." Daryl paced the two half steps between the walls of the hallway, chewing his thumb til he broke the skin.

With a sigh Rick picked up the photo his palm rested on.

"This?" His palm covered the worst of the image, his other hand pointed at the bleeding heart. "And m'not even going to mention the obvious, is in no way acceptable."

Daryl struggled to find his footing, nervously staring anywhere but at his brother who looked dead at him.

"I swear, I.." He stumbled over his words, unsure which ones would anger Rick the least. "She was fine with it. Ne'er did anythin' she didn' want."

There was a moment of silence between the two men. The only sound heard was the shuffling of pictures being gathered and stacked.

"We're going to drop this and finish this run." Rick stuffed the photos back all the way at the bottom of the bag.

"You, me and her. Tonight over dinner." With the bag on his hand he walked over to Daryl and shoved it against his chest. "First we do what we came here for."

And the run went well. They found the needed items, along with some requested things as well. Their haul was better than expected, but the two men still shared no words besides the needed ones for the job.

The drive back to the community was silent and getting all the items to their destinations was done in seperate ways.

There was no way the two men could look each other in the eyes right now. Rick went home and hoped to not find you until dinner, too afraid he might snap, unable to hold back all that he was feeling at this moment. His mind was reeling the second he sat down, making him jump up from the chair and pace around.

Dinner. He was going to focus on dinner.

With that in mind he set off to the pantry, going through all the recipes he knew, deciding on a meal with the ingredients he found.

A couple of houses down, Daryl needed a nap. He laid down on his couch but sleep wouldn't take him, his mind wandering off to all possible bad outcomes of tonight's dinner. He as well couldn't lay still, tossing and turning until he sat back up in frustration and hauled himself up the stairs and into the shower. He focused on cleaning himself up, scrubbing off the thoughts of a ruined friendship and rinsing away the fear of banishment.

Rick stood in the kitchen, thanking whoever listened for the fact that his family was busy and not available to question his clearly frazzled mind as he busied himself chopping down the greens he picked and cutting the few potatoes he was given in thin slices.

With care Daryl sifted through his clothes, trying to find any that didn't scream 'dirty redneck' at him from where they sat in the drawers. He dug past checkered flanels with torn sleeves, black buttown downsthat were once nice clothing items but now were nothing more than once expensive fabrics with holes in them.

Rick sighed as the warm water his his skin as he cleaned the cutting board. Pans with the greens and potatoes sat ready on the stovetop, and the meat sat prepped in the fridge. He was content with his work, looking around the kitchen as he dried the used items and placed them back in their respective cabinets.

Daryl's hands found plastic at the back of the drawer, pulling at it to reveal the bag Carol had gifted him, an outfit she brought back from a run with the Kingdom.

He stared at the thick, fancy patterned fabric. Shining threaded flowing patterns over a dull black fabric. The sleeves were long, with a small button and clasp to keep them rolled up. Along with the nice button up were sleek black pants that fit him perfectly.

Back in the kitchen Rick stood at the stove, finally having changed out of his gear and into home clothes. Now that he had a full kitchen and ingredients available again he enjoyed cooking, and even though Michonne and Carl weren't joining tonight he still put effort into it.

He had just put the meat in the pan when you came home, quickly questioning him about the food.

"Just go change and get back, dinner's almost ready." You watched your dad wavee his spatula in the direction of the stairs and for a second you wondered if he had found someone's stash and Daryl had comvinced him to smoke some as well before you did as he asked and went to change out of your dirty work clothes.

Before he left Daryl gave himself one last look in the large mirror that hung by the front door. He looked nice, he heard Carol's voice in his head as he looked ar how the few strands of shorter hair fell around his face while the rest was held together in a low ponytail.

By the time you came back downstairs your dad had set the table and was moving pans onto their coasters.

Wait.

Why was the table set for three? No one else was home for dinner tonight.

Rounding the corner the kitchen came into view and your stomach fluttered but you were unsure about what caused it.

Was it the butterflies that came with Daryl standing in your kitchen, seemingly filling three glasses with water in what looked like clean, fancy clothes? Or was it the anxiety moths that made thoughts of why he was here dressed up nicely in the first place?

"Looks good, dad." You mused as you walked past him to the sink.

"Let me take one." Next to Daryl you took one glass and the full pitcher, mouthing a subtle 'what the fuck?' at him, getting an eyeroll and a nod towards Rick.

"No need to fake the niceness, hon. I saw your little private photo collection."

You felt the glare at the back of your head and your body froze, hands stuck on the glasswares, unmoving.

Daryl murmured a soft apology before he moved to set the glasses on the table, coming back to take your items as well.

"C'mon, let's sit down 'n eat." With careful hands he maneuvered you to your seat at the table, where you had not dared to look anywhere outside of the scratched white of the plate in front of you.

The sound of spoons hitting pans and cutlery scraping plates all muddled as the panic rung in your ears.

You had kept part of your life secret with the utmost care, never a single moment of worry yet and nkw here the two most important men in your life sat, and ate in peace.

"Sweetheart, you should eat." Your father reached a hand across the table to take yours in comfort.

How were they so calm under all of this?

"I won't scream, or yell. I just need you to eat." With his hand withdrawn from yours he tilted the pan of potatoes for you to scoop some onto your plate.

The atmosphere at the table slowly settled as you all ate, but the more empty your plates became, the closer the dreaded topic came.

With pans and plates empty, Rick's voice cleared the awkward silence.

"So, how long?" He glanced between you and Daryl, seeing who'd answer first.

"After the prison fell." At Daryl's quick response you perked up. You listened how he recollected the events of your time spent separated between the fall of the prison and reuniting after that unfortunate meeting with the Claimers.

"Oooh look at this! Do you need some help, pretty lady?" The door to the storage unit you hoped up in got toen open to reveal a group of men, old and clearly mad in their doings.

"Claimed."

A voice you recognised sounded from the back of the group.

Daryl.

He went on to share how laying claim on you kept the men away from you and how he thought after reuniting it'd be done and over, but the oposite proved itself fairly quick.

"You know you didn't have to do all that, right? I mean, I know it was all to keep up the act, but I also know you don't like getting close like that." You and Daryl walked along the tree line, carefully eyeing a boar in the distance. "Hmhm, s'alright. Was nice, really." He dropped the subject immediately after and decided to focus on teaching you to hunt properly.

With focus and precision you took the shot, hitting the animal and joining Daryl to go see. "Great shot."

Upon seeng the animal lay lifeless on the forest floor you jumped into Daryl's arms with glee, quickly pulling back upon realizing your mistake.

Daryl's mind raced those few seconds, screaming at himself to make it happen now or never and his body moved out of its own.

His hands had remained on your hips and pulled you back in, ever so carefully nuzzling your cheek and making his way to press his lips against yours.

It was clear in Daryl's wording he wasn't having fun sharing the stories, but the glances he couldn't keep from happening told Rick more than Daryl's words.

"Ya gotta know, I care fer 'er. Really do." There were no truer words, nothing he could make it more clear he never had any ill intentions with you.

So now Rick stared at you, a look in his eyes that told you he was waiting for you to speak.

His look did nothing but frustrate you. "Really? You really think I'd sleep with just anybody just because the world went to shit?" Daryl could do nothing but smile behind his glass of water as you glared at your father. It was all true and he knew it firsthand.

"Reminds me of when ya smacked tha' Woodbury guy cuz he assumed ya were an easy fix." You sputtered out a laugh at the memory. "I don't even know how he thought that would work.."

"Hell, ya even turned me down lord knows how many times 'fore we found 'im again." Daryl nudged at Rick, recollecting the time you spent together with the Claimers.

His comment had you shy away again a little, still not comfortable to discuss any of that with your father in the room.

"Look." Rick interrupted the silence that had fallen again. "I'm not entirely agreeing with this, but at least I know Daryl's able to take care of you."

A stern finger pointed between the two of you next. "I just don't want to see any of it. Understood?"

You looked at Daryl and then at Rick. "So, that means you're okay with it?" The blessing turned the moths from before back into fluttering butterflies that spilled the words right past your lips, not even time for your brain to filter them.

"I promise it's not just what you saw in the photos, there's so much care and love, too. He even taught me how to hunt so I'll have food if we ever got separated." There was excitement in your voice, happiness even. It sang through the room as you rambled on about the feelings shared between you and the hunter.

"Think yer dad's heard 'nough fer today." There was a smile on Daryl's face as he could feel the unease radiate from his dearest friend. "M'headin' home. Ya get sum rest an' we'll talk t'morrow, yeah?"

As Daryl retreated you moved to go wash the dishes in silence, only the sound of running water and clanking plates to be heard. You didn't even notice the scrape of the chair across the floor, or the shadow cast beside you as your father joined you at the counter to dry what you washed.

"You know what?" His voice spoke suddenly beside you, pulling you away from your task."I'm glad it's Daryl you picked to be your partner."

A/N: Lords this took way too long. I hope it's any good 🙏🙏

[musingsofmajesty]

𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈𝐕

pairing shy eddie x flirty reader | summary it’s valentines’s day, and for the first time ever, Eddie’s got himself a true valentine. And when he runs out of words to say, he’s grateful to have his guitar | fluff, mildly suggestive | wc 1.8k

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[best enjoyed in order, but not required! ♡]

.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．

Eddie’s palms are warm where they rest over your eyes. Getting through the door of his trailer is an awkward, giggly shuffle, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. The small teddy bear he’d gifted you at school earlier that morning is hugged to your chest like a prize. 

In another life, he would’ve trusted you to keep your eyes closed as he led you inside, but not this one. Someway, somehow, you would’ve found a reason to peek, then flash him a sweet smile as a means of asking for forgiveness. 

So he took matters into his own hands. 

After you’ve managed to make it inside, he huffs out a relieved breath and your smile grows even wider. 

“Alright, you ready?” he asks, voice soft near your ear. 

“Yes,” you insist, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

“Three…two…one…” 

He lowers his hands from your eyes. 

You blink a few times to orient yourself. After that, a surge of warmth is quick to travel through you. The Munson living room is tidier than you’ve ever seen it. Two heart shaped balloons grace the ceiling. Rose petals are sprinkled around the pink gift bag that rests on the coffee table. 

You take a few steps forward, but can’t help but turn around to look back at him where he stands. He’s chewing on his lower lip, hands shoved into his pockets. Nobody had gone through such an effort on Valentine’s Day for you since you were a little girl. He blinks at you with soft, anticipating eyes. 

“All this for me?” you ask. It’s the only way you can think to voice your initial surprise. 

He chuckles as if there could possibly be anybody else. 

“I’m just making sure,” you lightly defend before walking over to sit down on the couch. Eddie follows and sits down beside you. 

Your cheeks warm as he watches, fondness radiating from his gaze. “You’re making me all nervous, watching me like that.”  The pleasant, fluttery type of nervousness. Your eyes flick to him after pulling the bag closer to yourself. 

“Don’t be,” he says with a sincere shrug of his shoulder. “It’s just me.” 

“That’s the problem,” you murmur, almost petulantly. “You’re everything.”

Eddie huffs out a breath that’s caught somewhere between amusement and denial. But he doesn’t say anything as his own cheeks prickle, shaking his head. 

A smile stretches across your face as you finally reach into the gift bag. 

The first thing your fingers grasp are the drawstrings of a small velvet bag. It’s a deep, forest green. Upon pulling it open, your mouth falls open at the sight of two dainty steel rings inside. One has a small pearl accent and the other is shaped like a snake. You all but gush as you slip them onto your fingers. 

Eddie’s shoulders finally relax. 

“Now I’m more like you.” You make it sound like a good thing as you show him your hand and wiggle excitedly. Your nails are a pretty cherry red. “These are perfect, Eddie,” you sigh. 

Then you add lightly, “You really pay attention, huh?”

Of course he does. He always did—was glad to.

Naturally, when you began fawning over his rings one evening, he made a mental note to get you some of your own from the place he liked shopping at. They specialized in more intricate designs that contrasted the simple ones you gravitated towards before him.

This came, of course, came after you’ve already managed to bum a couple from his own collection. He could never say no when you batted your eyelashes and gave him sweet kisses to soothe over the fact that you were taking his belongings. 

“There’s one more thing,” he says, nodding to the bag.

This time, you pull out a cassette tape. A mixtape, rather. There’s a list of songs written out in his blocky handwriting along with little doodles. Most of them are titles he’s gathered are some of your favorites—What a Feeling, Open Your Heart, When Doves Cry, Manic Monday, Rock With You, Don’t Stop Believin’…—But the last track brings a wistful smile to your face. 

“Master of Puppets is on here too…” 

It’s the song he was listening to the day you worked up the courage to go sit with him at lunch. He’d taken off his headphones, only for you to promptly slip them on. His soul had left his body at the idea of you gaining further insight into his heavy music taste, but after a few seconds, you’d smiled at at him and begun bobbing your head. 

Now you know all the lyrics. 

You’re not exactly sure why tears spring to your eyes, but they do. And they slip down your cheeks before you know it. You chuckle despite yourself, and wipe them away with your thumbs. Eddie’s heart drops a little even though he knows you aren’t sad. 

He scoots closer and drapes an arm over your shoulder. “You okay?” he asks. 

You nod and nuzzle into his shoulder. “Thank you,” you murmur. 

“Of course.”

Later that night, after going out to eat at the diner, you find yourself sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor and combing through a small box of his guitar picks. They’re all different colors. Some have fun patterns and designs.

You eventually pluck out a light yellow one that reminds you of springtime. You hold it up to Eddie, where he sits on the foot of his bed with his acoustic guitar in his lap. 

“Nice choice,” he says as he strums a pretty, nonchalant series of notes. 

“Thanks,” you chirp through a yawn. 

He hums and continues strumming. At first, you think he’s still warming up, but a proper melody emerges soon enough. It’s a soulful, almost folky sound. Nothing like he’s ever played at the Hideout, and you don’t recognize it as being a cover of any song you know.

His eyes remain on the fingerboard as he plays, and when he chances a glance down at you, there’s a certain weight to his gaze. As if the notes are saying everything he has yet to say.  

Suddenly, you’re wide awake. You can feel him in the notes. You can feel yourself too. 

You’re entranced and awed as you sit and listen. You watch his fingers and the concentrated furrow between his brows until the song eventually slows to a close. Just like that, his Bambi eyes drift steadily back to you. He holds your gaze for a few seconds until you feel compelled to stand on your knees and move into space to the space between his legs. 

Without so much as thinking, he brings a hand to your cheek and leans forward to press his lips to yours, ignoring the way his guitar gently digs into his chest. It’s a tender, weighted kiss. Eddie feels like he’s floating. 

“Did you write that?” you whisper against his lips after pulling back some. 

He nods. “What’d you think?” 

You’re quiet as you run your fingertips along the stubble on his jaw. “I might need to hear it again,” you say, but a smile plays in your voice. “And again, and again, and again…” you kiss him again, with more intention and eagerness. 

A small sound rises up Eddie’s throat, and he doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed. Because you part from him and stand, pressing a gentle hand to his chest in a silent request for him to lay back. After setting his guitar aside, he listens, scooting further up on the mattress so the lower half of his body is more supported.

His mind is so fuzzy that he doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but you crawl onto the bed and straddle yourself over his lap. It’s a bold move, even for you. But it feels like the next sensible thing to do. You’ve never felt so safe or drawn to another person.

“Is this okay?” you ask as you look down at him. 

Eddie surprises himself with a flustered laugh. You’re a pretty girl straddling him in your pretty Valentine’s Day outfit, and not even he’s immune to the warmth that stirs in low his gut. And he keeps laughing because of the intimacy of it all.

His hands buzz with the desire to touch you, but he doesn’t know where or how much pressure to apply. Whether or not you’ll take it the wrong way. 

Lucky for you, he’s got just about the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard. You can’t help but smile, even though you wish you could pout at him for laughing at a time like this. But something about the sound rumbling through his chest, puts you at ease. 

“See, now I’m starting to second guess myself ‘cause of you.” You’re teasing, but Eddie’s eyes go a bit wide. 

“I’m not laughing at you,” he starts. “I promise. Never.” 

“No, it’s okay. I see how it is.”  You pretend like you’re about to move off of him. 

But his hands shoot out to rest on your waist. His hold isn’t harsh, but it’s firm and steady enough to let you know he wants you to stay. Butterflies flutter in your stomach. When a tell-tale smirk stretches across your face, Eddie lets out a helpless sigh.  

“I’m starting to think you get a rise out driving me crazy,” he says. 

“If it’s taken you this long to figure that out—”

A squeal escapes you when he gently squeezes your waist a couple times. You grip onto his wrists with an anxious grin on your face, and he brushes his thumbs over your shirt to let you know you can relax. When you let go, he lets his hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt so they can settle on your skin. You’re soft and warm. It feels like you’ve known his touch for a lifetime. 

You note the way he starts blinking slower, as if his eyelids have grown heavier. The way his breaths grow a bit deeper, steadier. His curls look beautiful splayed around his head. The cut of his jawline is handsome even as he’s lying down. You can’t help but think you lucked out with this quiet, charming, handsome boy. 

When you shift over top of him, he shifts as well. As if to counter whatever feeling you’ve caused to stir within him. But it doesn’t quite work out. Not really. His cheeks have flushed a rosy shade of pink at the intoxicating weight of you overtop of him. 

“Sorry,” you lilt coyly. 

Eddie shakes his head because, as new as this all is, he’d never trade it. Never in a million years. And as he smooths his hands back down your thighs, he swears he’ll handle you with care for all the days of his life, if you let him. 

“Don’t be,” he assures. 

Thank you so much for reading! And Happy Valentine's Day. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated ♡

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DAY BY DAY MASTERLIST

[tasteracha]

kinktober - day seven

kink: sensory deprivation with felix

warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. use of blindfolds, new kink, unprotected sex. afab!reader.

felix is the one that brings it up, which surprises you because you’re usually the one that brings new things to the bedroom for the two of you to try. he’s a little shy about it, turning his computer screen towards you subtly and waiting for you to look up from your phone to notice. 

“ooh, kinky,” you tease when you see the page he has open, sex toys and furniture littering the screen with outrageous prices screaming out at you. “i thought you were gaming.”

“i was,” he whines a bit, sulking in the way he does when you poke fun at him. “but i was also thinking. about trying something new?”

“what were you thinking of baby?” your voice goes a little softer, warmth bubbling up in you as you sneak an arm around his so you can hold onto his bicep. 

“there’s this blindfold,” he starts, hovering his mouse over a silky piece of red fabric. “i was thinking i could use it on you? i think it would be really sexy.”

he doesn’t ask if it’s something that you would want to do, but the unspoken question is present in his words. you’re both good at maintaining your boundaries, both during sex and not, and the trust that you hold for each other is something you’re forever grateful for. 

“i’ve never considered it, but i would love to try it,” you lean closer to the screen, checking out the blindfold. “but this one’s really expensive. we can just use an eye mask or something, no?”

“i want to get this one,” he presses, sounding firm. “it’s made of this special material that doesn’t bother your skin, and the reviews say it’s really easy to untie if you need to do it quickly.” 

“you’ve put some thought into this, hmm?” you sneak your hand lower, fingers brushing at his waist. 

“yeah,” he breathes out, turning towards you to press his lips against yours. he bites at your lower lip, a quick thing, but you don’t let him pull away. you swing a leg over his, stomach swooping a bit when his gaming chair dips backwards with your combined weight. the blindfold is forgotten, for now. 

until it arrives in the mail, weeks later. the little package is addressed to him, but you recognize the name on the return address as the website he was looking at, so you rip it open and inspect it. it comes in a little satin bag, and when you open the drawstring it’s almost like you’re unwrapping something made of gold. the blindfold is nice though, the material soft and pliable against your fingers, and you hold it up to your cheek just to see what it would feel like. 

“it’s here?” he appears behind you, smirking when he sees it pressed up to your face. he doesn’t tease you for it now, but you know he’s tucking that information somewhere into his head to bring back later. 

“yes, can we use it now?” you’re a little surprised by how eager you are, but you can’t deny that the thought of having your sight taken away while felix ravishes you hasn’t left your mind since he brought it up. you thought that you would look a little sexier when it happened, maybe wearing your red lingerie set to complement the fabric, but right now you couldn’t care less that you were in leggings and an old t-shirt, not even a bra on. 

“you don’t have to ask me twice,” he plucks the blindfold from your hands and drags you to the bedroom, pushing you to sit at the foot of the bed. 

he’s so gentle when he ties the silky fabric around your head, making sure it’s not too tight on your eyes and that your hair doesn’t get tangled into the knot he’s making. it sets you completely at ease, any lingering anxiety that was present drifting away along with your sight. even your excitement seems dulled with the blanket of peace that’s settled over you. 

“okay?” his voice is almost deeper like this, your inability to see his lips moving in front of you making the sound more intense. 

“more than okay,” you say, knowing that he likes verbal affirmations at times like this. 

“i’m going to take your shirt off now, alright?” and even with the warning, you jump when his hands touch your waist, dipping against your skin as he peels your shirt off. it almost slides the blindfold off at it goes over your head, but he holds it in place, cradling the back of your head carefully. 

you knew that this would be different, but nothing could have prepared you for every brush of his skin against yours feeling like licks of fire dancing on your body. he takes off your sweatpants with the same amount of care, dragging them along with your panties down your legs until you’re left completely bare on the bed. the comforter feels so solid under your thighs, even the air seems hard where it’s touching you from every possible angle. he gently pushes you to lay down, warm hand on your back keeping you from falling too quickly.

there’s a rustle of sound to your left, and when he comes back and kneels over you he’s naked. he took off his clothes, your head feels the need to narrate what you can’t see happening. you wish you could see him, look into his eyes that you knew were filled with fondness as he runs his hands up and down your sides. he stops at your breasts, cupping one in his hand and running his thumb over your nipple. you can’t control the gasp that leaves you - you’ve felt this exact sensation before, but right now it feels different. it’s not the same as when you close your eyes when you’re overwhelmed, because at least then you can still see the kaleidoscope colors behind your lids. your entire field of vision is pitch black now, no matter where you look it’s planes of nothing. 

he leans forward and kisses you, and every nerve ending in your face lights up in pleasure. he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip before pulling away, and you chase his lips with a whine, blindly reaching out for him. 

“naughty,” he teases, voice rumbling against your ears. “next time i might have to tie you up.”

“oh,” you breathe out, his words sending a rush of heat to your core. 

“you would like that, wouldn’t you?” his words are warm on your skin. “you love being here like this, at my mercy for me to do whatever i want to you.”

“lix,” you whine, the need to have him as close as possible to you stronger than it ever has been. he crawls off of you, leaving you defeated on the mattress, another whine bubbling up in your throat until you feel something soft and wet stripe across your inner thigh.

his tongue. 

he presses feather light kisses to your thighs, further and further up until he reaches your pussy and his hands come into play to spread your folds apart to make room. he dives in hungrily, just an ounce of your desperation showing in him as he laps at you with urgency. it’s a sharp contrast between the gentleness he had been touching you with earlier, and you can’t stop your hips from bucking up into his face. 

“felix - lix-” you stutter out, head whipping to the side to try and hide your face. your head hits nothing, the pillow you thought was there was out of sight, literally, and a tear escapes your eye and seeps into the blindfold. you’re so overwhelmed.

“what baby?” the deepness of his voice radiates against your skin, you swear you can feel it against your clit and your entire body squirms. you need him inside of you, now, you can’t take it anymore.

“please lix,” desperation lines your words. “want your cock.”

“my baby is so polite,” he coos at you, tracing his fingers up your inner thigh towards your pussy. sensitive. “saying please while she’s asking for cock.”

you might have been embarrassed about the sound you let out any other day, but right now all you could think about was how badly you wanted him.

“okay, sweetheart,” he relents, pulling his fingers back. “do you want my cock in your mouth or in your cunt?” 

“cunt, please,” it was almost an impossible choice, but with the way your walls were clenching in on nothing you didn’t think you could survive without something inside of you. 

he enters you slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock dragging against your walls until he’s bottomed out. he didn’t prep you, but with the way your spit-mixed slick is dripping into the bedsheets the glide is perfect. he cradles your face as he moves, pressing kisses to your forehead to soothe you, his hair tickling the sides of your face. you feel so strung out even though you haven’t come yet, like you’ve been running a marathon non-stop with no end in sight. 

“you feel so good, so tight,” felix groans, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, drawing a choked gasp from you. “i wish you could see yourself, god, you look divine.”

“ngh,” is all you can let out as he starts fucking into you, holding you as close as possible to him as he rocks the two of you back and forth. the headboard hits the wall in time with your heart, the sounds invading all of your senses along with the drag of his cock inside of you.

his hands flutter from squeezing at your sides to your tits, tickling at your skin as they travel up and down, up and down. you can feel the drool pooling up in your open mouth, aborted sounds leaving your throat as he hits the same spot inside of you that sends rumbles up your entire spine, over and over and over. one of his hands tangles into your hair, right above where the blindfold was tied, and the other sneaks past your lower belly towards your swollen clit. he swipes his tongue through it and you jerk under him; he shushes you, not pausing his evened thrusts for a single moment. 

“come for me,” he says, ripping off the blindfold, and even with the darkness in the room you come with sparks flying through your eyes as your vision returns, his eyes flooding your sight as he looks into yours. he kisses you, holding your head close as he buries himself deep inside of you, emptying into you with a groan against your lips. you close your eyes, bursts of color dancing behind your lids. 

he slumps into you, both of you breathing hard as you come down. he strokes the side of your face, brushing away the hair that had sweat-matted against your temples from the blindfold. 

“was that okay?” he asks, the timidnes returning from days before, the thing he didn’t let you see when he was taking care of you. 

“god, felix,” you sigh, turning your body a bit so that you were laying side by side, facing each other. “that was amazing. i didn’t know i would like it that much. it was so overwhelming, but in a good way, you know?”

“yeah,” he smiles at you, warm and gooey and soft around the edges. he pulls you in for another kiss, sweet as candy, just like him.

—

kinktober masterlist

[armory-rasa]

COUCH POUCH!! Free Pattern & Tutorial

...called thus because they use upholstery-weight leather for the bag body, that in my case was in fact skinned off a couch. 🤣 Turns out they are relatively quick and easy to make, so I tidied up the pattern for printing and took pictures to document the process when I made another five of them.

First off, print your pattern, 100% scale:

The bag shape was a modified version of the pattern I used for the Morpheus sandbag, but sized to fit in the roughly 11" squares that my couch skin came in. It makes a bag that sits very well on a tabletop, thanks to the flat base.

Though it turned out to not be the most efficient use of material, because that plus-shaped pattern tessellates well, if you're cutting them out of a full hide, but makes a lot of waste when you're cutting them out of squares of material. A more efficient design would have a half-rounded front and back, and a gusset between them, like so:

Ah well. It's not like I have any shortage of couch skin, though for the next round I'm going to experiment with a more efficient pattern.

First step, trace and cut out the bag body from your chrome-tan leather:

Like I said, this was upholstery leather, but anything that's flexible and ~1.5 mm thick will do.

The flap and front need to be a stiffer leather though -- I used 7 oz latigo, but veg-tan would work equally well. (And then you could ✨tool it!✨)

Cut them out, and then use the pattern to mark where your holes are going to be. Mark the holes on your bag body too:

The latigo pieces get hand-stitched to the bag body, so I used a stitching groover to carve out little channels for the thread -- it's not strictly necessary, but it makes your stitches lay a lot more neatly:

Punch the holes shown below:

I used a ~5 mm hole punch for those, and a 1.5" slot punch for the belt loops. Some of the holes on the front piece you're not punching yet, because they need to go through both layers.

I put a dab of contact cement on the pieces (circled in white) to help hold them in place when I go to punch the stitching holes:

(Make sure you're not putting glue between the belt loops)

Wait fifteen minutes for the contact cement to dry until tacky, and then line up the holes and the edges and press the pieces together:

Punch stitching holes:

Saddle-stitch both pieces in place (takes 28" of thread per):

Now you can punch these holes:

(I used a slightly smaller hole punch than for the others, but it doesn't really matter.)

Now press the right sides of the leather together and sew up the seams from the inside:

A regular sewing machine should be able to handle this, though you will need thicker thread, a heavy-duty leather-sewing needle, and a walking foot attachment. (If you don't have a walking foot attachment, it is SO WORTH getting one, even if you don't expect to sew much leather. Seriously, I use it for everything -- once you go walking foot, you don't go back. 💀) Because you can't pin leather without leaving permanent holes in it, tiny binder clips can be helpful for keeping your material lined up.

What they look like when you're finished sewing:

Cut 19" of lacing for the drawstring, and 11" of lacing for the toggle:

I use the 1/8" EcoSoft lace from Tandy, I think it's stronger than real leather would be at that thickness. The only important factor here is that you need something with a bit of texture and friction -- a silk cord isn't going to stay closed, it's going to slip open.

MANY BAGS.

For these I used a wooden toggle -- cut another 8" of lacing, looped it through the toggle twice, and then made a tight square knot on the back:

But another option is putting a concho or a large button on the flap. The bag I copied this design from, in fact, uses a concho toggle:

Thread some beads on the laces to keep the ends from getting lost, and you are DONE! 😁

Happy Bagging!

[clockwayswrites]

Didn't write the rest of this scene I've shared bits of or anything.

WC: 913, Masterpost Sometime after Danny meets Red Hood, before he plots.

Jason actually stopped on the stairs when he saw Danny. He was going down and Danny coming up, but the sight made Jason freeze rather than just stepping to the side like he normally would. Danny looked beyond exhausted. His usually perky hair was limp, the bags under his eyes were impressively dark, and he tripped over every step. Jason was half worried that while he had been away, Danny had gotten turned into a zombie.

Considering it was Gotham and the city already had Grundy (and Jason himself), it was a disturbingly valid concern.

“Midterms,” Danny mumbled several long moments after he had caught sight of Jason standing on the next landing up.

Okay, midterms made sense too.

(Nice not to have to clean up a zombie outbreak as soon as he was back in town.)

“Just starting, in the middle of, or over?”

“Over, thank the Ancients. Last paper turned in,” Danny said with a dramatic motion that made him wobble dangerously against the railing. Jason closed the gap between them nervously. “I’m gonna go… go… what’s the word?”

“Eat? Shower? Sleep?”

“That!” Danny snapped his fingers. “All of that. In some order, I guess.”

Jason reached out and gently took Danny’s arm. “Okay, Tuesday, I don’t know if I trust you not to slip in the shower and smash your pretty face in right now.”

“You think my face is pretty?”

Ignoring his blush, Jason moved past that fact quickly. “So how about you come up to my place. You can shower while I make you a snack and then you can lay down for a nap. When you wake up, I’ll have dinner ready.”

“Mm, dinner. I like dinner. I miss dinner,” Danny said dreamily.

Jason decided just to get them moving up the stairs. “When’s the last time you ate something more than granola bars and soup, Danny?”

“What day is it? Wait! I know this. Physics. T-R. Thursday!” Danny said. He was clearly very proud of himself.

“Food, Tuesday.”

“Yes please.”

Holding back a sigh, Jason carefully directed Danny up the stairs to the top floor. His things wouldn’t exactly fit Danny, but he was loathe to let the other out of his sight right then. He’d just make sure to grab sweats that had a drawstring on them. After Danny was asleep, he could make a quick run to the store to get some fresh things for dinner.

It was a bit of a juggle to keep a watchful arm around Danny and get his door unlocked and then relocked, but Jason managed before guiding Danny through the bedroom to the full bathroom.

“Stay.”

“Yes sir,” Danny quipped, words interrupted by the large yawn he took.

Once Jason was sure Danny would stay standing he pulled away to go dig out some clothing and a fresh towel, only to turn around and run into the dresser himself like he was the one sleep deprived. It was just that, well, Danny had started to strip and was already down to his boxers. It was a lot of skin on display and Jason couldn’t help but watch the play of freckles and scars across the shoulder blades.

That was… there were actually a concerning number of scars, for a civilian.

And the type of scars… a lot of those looked like burns and electrical scars. Several puncture wounds too. What was Danny getting into? Jason gripped tightened on the clothing in his hands. They needed to step up training.

“Clothing!” Danny cooed sleepily.

Jason shook himself out of his thoughts and delivered the clothing into Danny’s grabbing hands. “Be careful in the shower. I’ll be outside the door in case you fall.”

“I’m fine,” Danny said. “I’m not even bleeding!”

That really wasn’t reassuring.

“Still, be careful, Tuesday,” Jason said, making a quick exit as Danny started to pull down his boxers. He didn’t want Danny to remember all this after some food and sleep and feel like Jason had invaded his privacy or anything.

While the shower ran, Jason considered just what he could do for the snack. He thought he had some waffles he froze and he had to have some breakfast links in the freezer too, so pigs in blankets would be easy. No fresh fruit, but he had froze so a smoothie for vitamins and fluids. He might add some powdered mix to it also. Then he could tuck Danny in for a nap before he ran a quick trip to the grocery. A soup and some fresh bread would be nice and easy to keep warm for as long as Danny slept.

The shower shut off, Jason tried not to worry about the sounds of bumbling about, and then the door opened with a whoosh.

“Ta-da! I am still mostly alive!” Danny said triumphantly.

“I’m proud of you, Tuesday, a real accomplishment there.”

“Do I get a reward?” Danny asked, a hint of that feral smile that Jason had seen as Red Hood playing across his lips.

Jason cleared his throat. “Sure, you in a blanket, pigs in a blanket, and a smoothie.”

Danny hummed before nodding. “Deal.”

“So glad you agree,” Jason drawled as he deposited Danny on the couch and draped a red throw blanket around his shoulders. Jason leaned in a little to catch Danny’s eyes. “Now, stay.”

Danny wavered for a moment, leaning forward close enough to touch before he just slumped back into the couch with a wide yawn. “’Kay.”

-----

AN: I know you all have seen a few bits of this before, but finally got the rest of the parts done around it! There should prob be more after the last bit here, but wanted you all to finally have some Not!Writing again! Sorry for any issues, my fingers really are not doing what they should atm.

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost to be notified!

[blurred-antics]

STFU MY YARN CAME IN TOO

guess whose rings for maille came in today >:)))

[mscherub]

Witchy Ways 🕸️

Reader is gender neutral, referred to as Prefect, Y/N, Henchhuman(by Grim)

Warnings!:

My writing cause what was I doing while writing this—

Swearing

Half proof read

Part 4: “The Umbrella and the Black Cat.”

Previous part here <3

Next part here <3 (TBD)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Part 4: “The Umbrella and the Black Cat.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The thing to do now…hide away, maybe? With those readings you got, you’re put on edge, that prickly feeling on the back of your neck people usually get when someone is watching them, though, you’re not sure if you’re actually being watched or not. That’s also concerning. So, now this, and the fear of your own practice, it’s like this world you’ve gotten plopped in to is taunting you or something!

Feels like it for sure. And, you guess now knowing something else is coming your way in the future, things aren’t looking too bright. Up your protection spell magic maybe? It’d certainly be the most beneficial option for your safety right now…damn, having to think of your own safety in general is just a wild thing.

Part of you doesn’t want to believe the symbols you seen, instead of taking them as insightful ones, which is how they are supposed to be taken, they seem more like warnings…or threats, both are plausible answers. And going back to the whole idea of your magic acting up the way it is here, it’s safe to say you can’t just push the thought away or take what you got with a grain of salt.

To even attempt to get these raging thoughts to cease, you’re bordering the edge of the forest by ramshackle, foraging for certain herbs while, in hopes of even finding any, and dangerously close to just banging your head off a tree. Money was, as usual, very tight, so here you are poking around and trying to scrap together any herbs you can find to make your own little protection charms to carry around on you.

“Ahhh…what am I gonna do? Maybe not think about it? Like I could do that…this is really, really cumbersome…” As if talking to yourself would give you an answer, but it honestly helps to clear your mind a bit more and get your thoughts set straight. You carry a little satchel, messing with the drawstrings on the bag as you scout around.

“Weighing the options of safety…I mean for sevens sake, it’s never safe for me here anyways, but thats not…ughhh! It’s one thing after the other anymore.” You mutter again as you bend down and look at a plant…it’s spiky and an awkward blue color, and almost looks like it’s pulsating. This is definitely not a plant you’re accustomed to. Maybe it’d be easier to just go rob the Botanical Gardens because you are not getting too far over here. Though, you’d have to avoid the people frolicking around in there, like the science club kids, sevens forbid you run into Rook, you’re just screwed at that point, or Leona, but he probably wouldn’t care, scratch that, he wouldn’t. Just in and out for what you need, walk in like you own the place and people won’t question!

With a quick look around, scanning the area and deeming it safe to head off to your destination, you start off your little journey. There are easier ways to do protection spells, yes, but your magic is a little unpredictable so to speak, and maybe something like a little protection spell jar or charm would work better, and for a longer period of time for you. For now, however, just drawing a pentacle with your own saliva on the back of your hand should be enough for now, hopefully. You kinda know your own magic…kind of…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The botanical gardens are always nicely kept, the plant variety that’s housed in here is definitely in the 100’s, and it’s always nice to come here and look at the various life forms when you quite literally have nothing else to do. You walk along the paths that twist and turn in search of the items you need for just a simple protection satchel…you didn’t have an jars left, so you had to make do with what you had, easy since that’s the way to go anyways!

The organization system of the whole place was usually followed to a T, the rest of the science experiments being done kept away in their own little section and keeping them from cluttering with the other plants. You find “row” R, and you walk down, looking for rosemary, which shouldn’t be that difficult to find. You know, it is kind of calming in the gardens, of course because of how peaceful it can be. You can see how Leona can fall asleep in here—

“Ah! Bonjour, Trickster! What a delightful surprise to see you here!”

Ignore him.

Just…pretend he’s not there. Can’t hear him. You stiffen up and you look down at the rosemary plant which you just managed to find…why now?

“Trickster?” His voice drops slightly and you nod, giving in and turning around to face him.

“Heyyyyy, Rook…” you force a smile. You have to stop thinking of situations in your head because clearly they’re gonna come true.

He smiles back and clasps his hands together, his eyes narrowing. “What is your reason for being here today, alone nonetheless? I see Monsieur Fuzzball isn’t accompanying you on this fine and gorgeous afternoon?”

“He’s just with the duo, like usual. He’s uh, I’ve been dropping him off there a lot lately, I’ve been busy…”

“I see, yet that still doesn’t explain the fact that you are here.”

Why is this man on to you in an instant? Can’t you just be left alone for once? In all reality you knew that couldn’t happen, but I guess it’s time to lie— again. “I’m just trying to get things for, erm— skin care! Yea! That’s it! Skin care, mhmmm! Rosemary is anti inflammatory, did ya know that? Also promotes hair growth…I was just gonna take a little is all. You know me, money is not my uh, not my friend cause it likes to avoid me. Yea.” Convincing enough.

“Ou la la! Why forage around for such items when Rou du Poison has the items already processed that you are in search of! I guarantee that his products will be better than any others, though it is just beautiful to see how hard at work you appeared to be while searching! Ah! Beauté how you try to conserve and take matters into your own hands!” He was as eccentric as ever, clearly.

He slips his hand to the upper part of your back and drags you along out of the gardens, conversing with you the entire time as he drags you off to Pomefiore grounds which never fail to be breathtaking, but also frightening since you know who runs them.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“You never fail to surprise me.” Vil quickly states after he hears the reiteration of what you were doing from Rook, who, sits looking too happy at the moment, a smile wide across his face.

“Well, I apologize for not squandering my money off—“

“Exactly, you don’t have money to do that. But are you so humble that you can’t bother to ask help from others? Especially with matters that I expertise in, genuinely, Prefect, you are quite odd.” He sighs as he inspects his nails, uncrossing his legs then standing up. His heels click against the ground as he gets closer to you, his eyes critical as he looks over your features. You were stressed so if you looked a little off that would be why.

“What would you like? I can give you a rundown on your skin type if you’d like. Here, follow along.” And you’re dragged off again. Vil takes you to his room and sits you down promptly at his vanity and he begins to test multiple products on your arms and back of your hands like some guinea pig, but it was all in the best of interest for your skin, obviously.

“Which do you like better of the products? I have a lot procured to multiple skin types…I have to have them on hand for any of my dorm members. And now respectively you, of course.” He hums softly as he begins to take the bottles of products that matched and reacted well with your skin and he ushered you up and brought you to the bathroom to wash your face.

This was not how you intend to spend your afternoon. Not that you were fully against the entire situation, it just wasn’t ideal for the problem you have at hand, the one problem only you know about, but still! Out of all the things you said to Rook you had to say skincare. You could have said cooking and he’d have probably left you alone.

“Pat dry, don’t do anything else, it’ll disrupt and irritate the skin.” He chides as he strolls out of the bathroom and back to his vanity, spinning the chair to face your direction. “Chop chop.”

Toner first, he applies it and lets it sink into your pores while he gets multiple bottles of serums and lists each effect, but you don’t have the effort to actually listen in and understand the properties. Off of serums then on to eye cream, placed prospectively under the eyes.

“Have you been sleeping well? Your eye bags are rather defined. Drink more water and sleep a minimum of 8 hours. No less than that.” Was all this necessary? Coming from him you knew it was just Vil being Vil, helping those around him so they could achieve beauty just like him, but in their own ways, and he was good at it.

“Moisturizer. I’d hope I don’t have to explain this.” He dots some around your face before he moves on to squirting some sunscreen and rubbing it in.

“Done. Did you mention something for your hair as well? At least from what Rook had interpreted your story to say…”

“Actually, no! Haha, just skincare, I gotta go, but uh, thank you?” You quickly interject.

“I see. Take these products then, and come back to me when they empty. Stay on top of your skincare or I will find you myself and remind you of the importance with a lecture.” He smiles, though his reminder is enough to get anybody to not think twice about it. He pushes the little basket of products into your hands.

“Of course! I’m just— I’m gonna go. Ok, bye.” You stand up quickly and you leave his room. Your skin is now soft and bouncy, revitalized, but that doesn’t really change anything about your predicament.

“Prefect!” Epel shouts from behind. You turn around and look at him.

“Hey…”

“The hell happened to you? Oh. Another Victim of Vil’s…you’ll get used to it.” He sighs, nodding along to say he understands. “I just wanna ask you about that jar you made! You think you can make any others like it…but you know, with different effects and in a different container? I’d like to carry one on me for a spell drive game…I tired to do that and I opened the bottle you gave—“

“You opened it?” You tilt your head.

“Yea? I was just gonna try and put the contents into a little baggie but…it stopped working. I dunno what you had set in place on that.” He purses his lips, moving his hands behind his back and smiling again. “I dunno…I’d just…like another one. It was a really helpful thing to have on hand!”

“Epel…it doesn’t work anymore because you broke the wax seal, and another possibility is that…” your voice drops down to a whisper as you think, “I didn’t put much intention into the jars to last for more than just a few days…”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Yea, just don’t break the wax seal is all…” you clear your throat.

“Why’s that, though?”

Why does everybody have to question you anymore? “It kinda…how to word it? Gets rid of the effects?” That’s barely any information on it, but it sounds plausible.

“Huh, ok then. Can you make me another then?”

“I’ll think about it.” You nod. Epel gives you a happy closed eye grin and nods.

“Thanks!” His face almost instantly contorts to some sort of evil look and he smirks, chuckling as he narrows his eyes. “If I get that then I’ll beat them RSA suckers next time we play em! I can’t wait to see the look on their faces, and I’d get MVP of the game.” He snickers to himself. Ok, buddy, have fun with that.

You nod one last time and you finally, finally leave. Second times a charm for the botanical gardens, maybe?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With the basket resting in the crook of your elbow as you walk, not had having enough time nor care to drop it off at Ramshackle, you head back to the gardens, back down the paths, back to row R, and back to the damn rosemary plant. You crouch down and you pick off a branch or two and stuff it into the satchel, worrying about processing it all later. Now to section L, and lo and behold, in the middle a tall laurel tree, but fate throwing more problems at you and most likely dying of laughter as it watches you suffer, ironically enough, another thing beginning with the letter L is also there, but it’s not a plant.

Leona and his “clever” sleeping spots never fail to surprise anybody. Tiptoeing around him wasn’t an option, cause he’d hear you, and he’s kinda in your way of climbing up and shaking down a few leaves. Whatever, you’re not letting anything else get in your way now, and especially not for one of the most prominent ingredients you needed. Bay leaves, also widely known to be as equivalently lucky to a shooting star, make a wish upon a bay leaf then burn it, and give it back to nature after. You were gonna use it for its protective properties, however.

You walk up to the thick base of the tree and kick against the side of it, the action causing Leona’s ears to flick and his tail to twitch as he cracks open one of his eyes to, oh so nicely, glare at you.

“What.” He murmurs gruffly, definitely irritated already.

“For one, hello to you two, and secondly, since you’re like already kinda perched up there…get me some leaves off the tree…I need them for uh…cooking.”

“Just go to Sam’s shop and buy some.” He yawns, turning away from you to face the other direction. “They’d be better anyways…already dried out, too…”

“That’s…bro you know I’m fucking broke and can’t spend my money on that, so can’t you do a nice thing for me? I’ll climb up there myself and step on you, so choose the better option…” you meet him back with the same attitude.

“You’re annoying today, huh?” He scoffs as his tail gives a warning flick, but he sits up and glares at you as he grabs his pen and uses his magic to send down—

And now there’s leaves everywhere. He smirks and he slips the pen away and gets back into a comfortable position, falling asleep again almost instantly and leaving you alone to look at the mess of leaves and branches on the ground. Whatever, this still works…you grab what you need and flip him off as you walk away, even if he can’t see.

You manage to gather the other things you need without too much trouble, then being the easier items such as the lavender and sage, easy and not that questionable. Students gave you many quick glances and eager hushed whispers as they watched you “rob,” which technically in this case could be considered borrowing, from the plants. But honestly, who cares, so long as people don’t know your main secret, all you have to say to them is: Fuck em! You don’t have any more left to give today…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hammer in hand you drive a nail into the wood on the outside of Ramshackle. The makeshift stool you’re standing on is…well, not super stable, but it gets the job done. You hang the horseshoe you got just a day ago right above the door in the middle, and of course you cleansed it before you hung it up, it’s just basic protocol anymore from being so on edge.

“Well, let’s see those readings come true now thanks to this bad boy hanging up above my door! I think this is the first time I’ve been happy in a while—“

“Henchhuman, why’re ya talking to yourself, and what are you hanging up?” Grim pipes up as he looks up at you…but it’s also not just him. Ace and Deuce stand behind him, looking up at you as well, clearly a thing or two on their mind that they want to say to you.

“You guys weren’t supposed to be back for like another 10 minutes…”

“But here we are.” Grim sighs.

“This,” you say as you motion to the horseshoe, “cultural thing. That’s what this is, don’t ask anymore questions. Shut up!” You spit out as you step down, looking up at your handiwork. Ace lets out a puff of air and stalks closer to you, looking up at the odd thing.

“We didn’t say anything though—“

“I’m just saying don’t ask. I wanted a…touch of home from back home, exactly. Thanks for bringing Grim back, now byeeee, I’m busy.” You pick up the stool and heave it back inside, Grim shrugging to the two boys and following along behind you.

“So, what happened today?” You question him as you walk into the lounge and head over to the mantel, checking over a few things and dusting away a thin layer of dust that somehow already was managing to form.

“They just complained the whole time about those jars ya made, said they stopped working, and then they did a deep dive as to how they even worked…it was a painful conversation I had to sit through, and no compensation or payment of tuna, either!”

Huh? Deep dived into the topic?

“What did they say about how the jars worked?” You slow down in your movements and peer over your shoulder towards Grim who was laying lazily on the couch.

“Dunno, tuned em out, but they said some stupid thing that you had a student enchant it, but they’re dumb cause I didn’t trace a single bit of magic on em. Then they went off that and started saying you enchanted it yourself, which couldn’t be possible since you didn’t have magic. I told em that.” He hums.

“And…they believed you?” You murmur as you walk over to the couch and sit down. “I mean…I don’t have magic…”

“They’re iffy about it, said they don’t know your world so they don’t know what actually goes on there or what you know. They’re just big doofuses…anyways, I need tuna, I’m hungry.” He hoists himself up and goes into the kitchen.

He stops midway and turns to you again, “oh, and Ace went around mouthing away to people about everything again.” And then he goes off.

That’s a lot of information in one go, and in such a nonchalant way, as well. The black cat…gossip, and if you really look into all the things that happened today, the umbrella, difficulty while you were trying to get the simple shit you needed for a protection spell. Yea…

Ok, distraction time, you know an easy way to be protected, you just have to get a little creative. You get up and grab one of your notebooks before heading upstairs.

Incense is lit and you take a seat in the armchair and begin to draw out a circle and label it with letters going around the perimeter. You write down the words “Strong Protection,” crossing out vowels and repeating letters, being left with “Strngptc” as your jumble of letters. Back to the circle, you draw lines and curves from each letter, making a simplified sigil. It’s still a sigil and will work how you intended it since intention is key. You move on to another group of words, just for a boost of confidence to hopefully hide any evidence of stress, you write down “Beauty and Rejuvenation.” Easier said than done.

You slap these sigils onto the skincare package Vil gave you and go through every step in order that he had applied all the products to your skin. Wash, uh, toner, serum, eye cream, yea? Whatever, then moisturizer and then look in the mirror and— well damn.

You certainly looked a lot better now, and felt a sense of calm. Even after what Vil had done for you just hours earlier, you honestly thought that looked good and helped out just a tiny bit, but you just amplified the products by like 50% and also while adding in the bonus of protection…it’s like you’re a whole new person…glamour magic is no joke, huh? You’ve outdone yourself, props to you.

That’s probably enough worrying for one day…at least for now that is. Maybe distracting yourself isn’t the best way to deal with problems.

…idk where I was going with this one, I’m getting of track a little, I fear…this was kinda just plot progression and a lot of filler shit and also a way for me to mention Pomefiore…all dorms will have their major moments, like Octavinelle in the second part…I just need to find motivation to do it 👍

THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH MY WRITING, LOVELIES <3

Again, if you wanna be tagged just ask!

Master List

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

Tag list <3:

@w0nd3rhoy

@biumg-ie

[slxtarchive]

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 ᥫ᭡ 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. chris finally came back from his trip with his brothers to a very needy girlfriend so he thought it was the perfect time to show you what he brought you.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. SMUT ! fem reader x chris, use of sex toys, unprotected, sexual themes.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬.first fic in a while but i got my degree! not onto nursing … not proof read! inspired by @leisturni & her request for a writer to do this :) hope you like it

you heard a light creak downstairs while you were freshening up. your heart jumped. chris just got home.

you don’t hesitate one bit. your socks slide slightly against the floor as you bolt down the stairs, practically leaping over the last few steps. you see him just as he’s closing the door behind him, bags and suitcase still in hand, hair a little messy from the flight, eyes tired — but when they meet yours, everything softens. his whole face lights up.

he smiled lightly parting his lips. “baby—” he started to speak.

you don’t let him finish his sentence. you throw yourself into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist, arms tight around his shoulders. you’ve been holding in every ounce of this feeling for days — maybe longer. the feeling of longing. the feeling of missing him.

it was like you were finally able to breathe calmly when he catches you easily, strong arms locking around your back as if he never wants to let you go. his bag thuds to the floor, forgotten. you bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent, grounding yourself in him.

“i missed you.” you whispered, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“i missed you more baby,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple.

you pull back slightly, just enough to look at him. his eyes search yours, and before either of you can think, your lips find each other — and this kiss isn’t just sweet or simple. It’s full of everything you didn’t say on the phone, every second you spent wishing he was home, every quiet night alone, every ache. it’s slow and deep, then quickly turns hungry. not just want — need. not just love — longing.

his hands slide up your back, fingers curling in your sweatshirt like he’s anchoring himself.

when you finally break the kiss, breathless and a little dazed, chris rests his forehead against yours. you can feel the smile on his lips before you see it.

“i brought something,” he says softly, a hint of shyness in his voice.

you blink, still catching your breath, and tilt your head. “hm?”

he smiled slightly, setting you down gently but keeping you close. he reaches into the side pocket of his duffel and pulls out a tiny velvet pouch. he presses it into your palm.

your fingers tug the drawstrings open, and a small black die rolls out into your hand.

you turn it over slowly. instead of numbers, each side has an illustration. as your brain realized what the implication of the dice was, your eyes lit up softly. you then looked inside the pouch again to find one other dice. it wrote places. counter, bathroom, couch, etc.

heat blooms in your chest — and lower.

you look up at him, lips parting slightly, the curve of a knowing smile forming. he grins back, a little shy but mostly proud of himself.

“i saw them and thought of you,” he says, voice low, “thought maybe it could… we could... y’know… make tonight feel like the kind of welcome home i’ve been dreaming about.” you giggled at him slightly.

your thumb grazes the die’s edge, heart thudding with anticipation.

you step closer, pressing your body against his again, fingers slipping into his belt loops as you look up at him.

“well, you didn’t need to bring me anything,” you whisper. “but now that you have…”

his face slowly leaned down and the moment his lips touched yours he pulled you up so that your legs wrapped around his waist and set you down on the couch.

he brought the dice to the coffee table and let them fall from his hands. your lips parted looking at them.

chris took a quick glance before picking you up quite easily and brings you in the counter. “gonna let me make you feel good, hmm?”

you gulped nodding as he nudged your knees apart. you were curious as to what the dice said but you weren’t questioning it any longer because chris was quick to pull down your sleep shorts along with your underwear. he then kneeled down eye level with your soaking pussy and dove into it.

he gave a quick lick to your entrance bringing your arousal up to your clit. he ate you out like a starved man. he brought your legs closer practically suffocating himself in your arousal. it made its way all over your face.

your jaw dropped, feeling the sensitivity of being untouched for days. “c-chris… oh my god.” your hand wrapped around his light brown hair.

he slurped and sucked you, loving the way you were dripping wet. he needed you like he needed oxygen. he pulled you impossible closer until your thighs were shaking around his head. “can feel you gettin’ close baby. we not done yet.”

you had tears in your eyes as you felt your orgasm reaching you. chris pulled away from you sucking your clit one last time. he took a few steps grabbing the dice and tossing them on the counter beside where you sat.

you looked down at the dice and saw the illustration. it was the two stick people standing up as one of their legs were wrapped around the other. then the other dice wrote ‘shower’. your eyes met with chris’s seeing a gleam in his eyes.

a smile played on both of your lips before the picked you up and scurried to the bathroom. he set you down and started stripping. he took his shirt off, along with his jeans and boxers before turning on the shower.

you followed his actions giggling as he jumped in the shower lending you a hand as you stepped into it beside him. you immediately felt the warm water cascade down your back before giving yourself a quick rinse.

chris had already become soaked. stray thick strands were resting across his forehead before he combed them back. he looked good. the water droplets slowly making their way down his toned stomach… down to his v line. your eyes landing on what you craved most.

chris pulled you by your waist connecting your lips shortly before picking you up again and pressing you against the wall. he grappled the shower head and adjusted it before leaning back and moving it across your skin then down your body. he let it carefully caress your clit over and over causing a light moan to come up your throat.

your hands were strong around his neck as you felt your body become a bit weak at the touch. since he had his way with you earlier, you were still a bit sensitive and felt that same orgasm coming up on you once again.

“look at you. look so pretty.” he groaned. you felt his dick nudge you slightly.

“need you how chris. please. m’gonna cum n i don’t wanna.” you bit your lip slightly.

he laughed lightly before putting the shower head back and picked you up a little bit before slowly inching himself into you. your jaw dropped at the feeling of being so full.

it wasn’t long before he was ramming into you with desperation. the shower was steaming and your sweat was getting mixed with the freshwater of the shower.

your hands were gripping him trying to hold on as you heard your skin slapping against eachother.

everything came together pushing both you and chris to come together as well. he let his head rest against your shoulder as his hips stuttered inside you before he stilled.

you moaned out loud as you came along with him, holding him close.

when he finally caught his breath, chris lifted his head up to meet your gaze. “i missed you so much.” he pecked your lips. “what a warm welcome.” he licked his bottom lip.

“i’m glad i could give you a warm welcome.” you laughed kissing his cheek softly.

as time passed you both showered, washing each other and kidding each other and later that night you did it all over again while spending time with each other and enjoying each others presence.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Max for 🩸 and 🥩 please!

I’m so excited for both of these fics!

Thank you so much!

500 for 🩸

---

He used to be a fan of a steaming shower. It helped loosen the tightness in his back after a long shift. Now, he can hardly get it above lukewarm before it starts to hurt. Bobby guesses his hot tub days are over. Not that they ever really began. 

By the time Bobby is done, Buck is back. He’s in the process of chucking Bobby’s dirty, blood stained shoes out of the room, because they presumably reek, when Bobby walks out, wrapped in a few towels. He’s not usually too shy, but he’s examined himself in the bathroom mirror and has noticed that he looks oddly transparent. That, paired with a new, darker shade to his eyes - not to mention the fangs - makes him look sort of revolting, he thinks. 

Buck averts his eyes anyway, out of respect. He’s placed two full shopping bags on the bed, plus a shoe box.

“I grabbed a bunch of different things,” Buck says. “Uh, we can get more later… If-if you want.”

Bobby mumbles a quick thanks, then grabs the bag of clothing and disappears back into the bathroom. It reminds him of coming home from that disastrous cruise, after all their luggage sank. He’d had to wear whatever had been available at the nearest port. Souvenir tee shirts, mostly. Buck has done a bit better than that. 

In the bag, Bobby finds a lightweight, cargo-type pair of pants with a drawstring, meaning they don’t require a very specific fit. Smart. He also finds a blue flannel that looks exactly like something he’d have worn before. He dresses in those, puts on socks, flattens the hair on the top of his head, and stares at himself again. 

He almost looks human. 

He doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Should he try? Try to look like the man he was? For Buck? Or should he just give in to what he’s become? He finds himself drawn to the concept of the former. The small, traitorous tug of not wanting to be alone keeping him going, just like it had all those years ago, right before Buck first started bugging him. He doesn’t regret the life he had and lost by following that instinct. 

Bobby steels himself and exits the bathroom. 

“Thank you,” he says once Buck looks at him. “You were right. I feel a lot better.”

Buck heaves a relieved sigh, but then tries to stifle it. Like he doesn’t want Bobby to know how worried he is. 

“Good,” Buck says. “I-I’m glad. That was no way to live, or, uh, exist, down there. This is better.”

---

500 for 🥩:

---

Eddie groans. He realizes it’s beginning to potentially verge on neurotic. Which isn’t a great look, this early into a relationship. Except for the fact that it’s Buck! They already know all of each other’s weird shit. 

“I guess I just don’t want this to become a thing,” Eddie says.

“A thing?” Buck asks. “What kind of thing?”

“Like, the thing that starts as something silly, but leads to a larger issue for us,” Eddie says.

Like, how, once upon a time, Eddie had said, yeah, I’d like to live in Texas for the rest of my days, and Shannon had said, that’s funny, I’d like to see the world, and despite life fucking around with them way more than that, that had become a thing later. Eddie was wrong. Wrong and stupid. He’s glad to be out of Texas. But maybe that has more to do with who is in Texas than Texas itself.

“Eddie, why would it be a thing?” Buck asks. He genuinely doesn’t get it. He’s not just being difficult. Eddie can tell. “Are you going to hold a grudge against my niece? Because I promise she’ll get over this.”

“I’m obviously not holding a grudge against a child!” 

“Good to hear,” Buck says. “So, what’s the issue?”

He sounds sort of like Bobby when he decides, every once in a blue moon, to be rational and collected. It’s staggering and annoying. 

“Buck, what if she doesn’t get over it, and then it’s like… Oh, I would have kept dating Eddie, but my niece hates him,” Eddie says. “Or, oh, I can’t marry someone my niece hates! Or, probably shouldn’t let Eddie have any more kids because this one hates him!” 

Eddie knows he’s said way too much by the way Buck’s jaw drops. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Why did I say that? Forget that I said that.”

“Oh no way,” Buck replies. His voice sounds a little squeaky. “No way I’m forgetting that.”

“Let me out of the car,” Eddie begs. 

“Nope,” Buck says. But he does signal to pull over. 

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks.

“Can’t talk about this while driving, you crazy, crazy person.”

Well… That’s fair. 

Buck pulls over on a residential side street, kills the ignition, and swivels his body to gape at Eddie. Eddie feels like he’s going to puke or pass out or possibly both. 

“Eddie, play that all back,” Buck says. 

“Play what back?” Eddie tries.  “Something about being nervous that Jee not liking you… What was it again? Lead me to dumping you, not marrying you, and not having kids with you?”

[kermitted-cause]

WoD Meetcute Event!!!

Hi everyone, this is my writing to mirror @naughty-elf-fun's wonderful artwork of Red and Adrian!

The banner is by the brilliant @diableriedoll!

Adrian’s blinker clicked sharply and in regular intervals. He kept his hands level on the steering wheel, and gently rolled his tongue along the butt of his cigarette. It shifted slightly to a more comfortable position. The gas was eased off, and the car came to a rolling stop. Tried as he might, the blinker continued to fitfully assert its presence. With much effort, Adrian cranked the window down, and lowered his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose.

Virginia was a state he did not mean to visit, nor did he even want to be in. The East Coast was met with long stretches between urban life, vast expanses of flat roads, and the deep belated sigh of nature. Richmond had been a lovely little detour for all three, but Adrian’s grand tour had set its sights for Europe. Sure, the rules were different there, and the roads were less amenable to long contemplations of thought and enjoying the night sky. But, and this was a big but, Europe had odder jobs and nicer booze. Adrian was tired of the same circuits between Princes, Bishops, and the occasional dust up with some upstart prick who had decided to create yet another schism within the sects that existed.

How many ways could you cut an already thin slice of pie?

Finally, after hours directionless and refusing to rely on maps or intuition of any kind, Adrian was clear of Richmond. The I-95, a beautiful feat of engineering and a wonderful reflection of the unending feat of engineering, had promised a return to schedule. Traffic was luckily sparse, a rare miracle, and before dawn, Adrian would be holed up in D.C. in some shit motel, either alone or with some poor fucker with a sob story. And a shower. The place needed a shower. 

As such luxuries of hot water streamed through his mind, Adrian found himself in the odd position of staring at a vague figure in the distance. Their thumb jutted out awkwardly in the familiar ‘going my way’ angle. He checked the time. A few hours before dawn. Fuck it. He could sneak in a quick bite. 

This line of thinking soon faded, as the figure became more distinct the closer the car rolled towards her. She seemed put together but faded, worn out and held together by something Adrian couldn’t quite label. Her hoodie was dusty, the drawstrings pulled taut, and the fabric blotched with a dark, faded mark. In some places, it was stained with a fresher liquid. Even though he could not see any colour, nor had he been able to since his embrace, Adrian knew what he was looking at. The leather jacket atop it did its best to hide the blood, but even then, Adrian could see danger even if it announced itself whilst hitchhiking. 

Honestly, Adrian was not one to judge. His eternal bruises lingered and only faded with what gentle violence he could indulge in. His eye remained swollen and brutal, and his broken nose had decided to spring a fresh leak that required bandaging. At least his split lip was cooperating, with less angry tears across his sardonic smile. 

Two blood covered individuals gazed at one another. Both were separated by the bent metal of a car window; one sat in the busted Cadillac, wearing inappropriately-timed aviators to hide his injuries; the other stood against a metal post, shouldering a bag and concealing herself through her jacket to hide the blood that was most definitely not hers. 

‘Looking for a lift?’ was an obvious statement, but a ‘howdy’ or a ‘hello’ would have slowed things down. The young woman regarded Adrian coolly, and nodded. Her jaw tightened, set into a grim scowl. 

‘You headed towards D.C.?’ she asked, and Adrian nodded. The aviators fell onto the dusty road, and neither one acknowledged it. The woman looked at Adrian fully now, observing his bruises. The backpack was adjusted out of habit, and she pointed a sharp finger at his face.

‘You in trouble?’ She was clearly trying to gauge if Adrian was a serial killer, or a creep of some description. He turned it back onto her, the random woman hitchhiking in the late night. Adrian returned the gesture, motioning towards the dried blood on her torso.

‘Only as much as you.’ 

Silence fell between them, both rigidly glaring and working out the calculations in their mind. It was a risky coin flip, that chance before a tussle, before someone had to lunge first and fuck up a potentially pleasant altercation. Adrian went first.

‘Garou?’

‘Nope. Camarilla?’

‘Nope. You going to kill me?’

‘Not unless you give me a reason.’

‘Fair enough.’ Adrian unlocked passenger door and opened it up for her. It was entirely possible he was going to be brutally slaughtered in his own car, but fuck, did Adrian need directions once he got off the interstate. The stranger rounded the car, and entered. Immediately, Adrian noticed the smell of metal and dust. 

The Fleetwood Cadillac shifted into gear, and rejoined the road. 

About ten minutes of the stilted silence went by, and the blinker remained helpfully stuck. Briefly, Adrian tossed the finished cigarette butt into the backseat, and let go of the wheel to light another. He didn’t think much of it, but the raised eyebrow and the brushing of bright, fair hair seemed to have an opinion.

‘If a car crash was going to kill us, then frankly, how the fuck did we make it so far?’ Adrian laughed bitterly, and returned his hands to the safety of the wheel. 

‘You got a name?’ She ignored his statement in favour for something useful.

‘Depends on the day. Tonight you can call me Adrian.’ he flashed a grin that was blocked. ‘What can I call you?’

‘Red.’ she grunted, clearly, and quite fairly, unimpressed with the man driving. 

‘You sure have a lot of that on you.’

‘It’s not mine if you’re worried.’

‘I can’t tell if I’m more or less worried.’ Adrian mused. ‘You need a change of clothes? I’ve got some spare in the trunk.’

Red shook her head, the cloud of her only visible eye travelling to some past nostalgia.

‘No, but thanks. I just need the ride.’

‘Not even some blood?’

‘I’m full.’ 

‘Thought so.’

Adrian clicked his tongue alongside the blinker, and then stopped once it got boring. 

‘I’m not much of a social butterfly.’ Red remarked.

‘I am a jackass, so polite conversation is not my specialty.’

‘How about we don’t ask any questions, and agree to just sit in silence until we get to D.C.?’

‘Agreed.’ The smoke of cigarettes sank heavy in the car, between the tension and the absurdity of the situation.

Once upon a time, there was a truck driver in Arizona, travelling to Nevada to unload pallets of something important. He picked up a passing hitchhiker, who was quite jovial and obnoxiously chirpy. 

The hitchhiker was quite surprised that the trucker picked up a total stranger, and commented upon this.

How do you know I’m not a serial killer? he had asked.

Because, came the reply, what are the odds there are two serial killers in this truck?

This story came to the forefront of Adrian’s mind as they travelled in the night. There was something deeply incorrect about each of them. Neither Red nor Adrian appeared upstanding, or like members of society that would be so readily accepted by the rest. Perhaps that was the issue: there was no facade or pretense of normality.

‘I know we said no questions-’ Adrian held up his hands as Red shot him a look ‘- but I am curious why some vamp covered in blood decides to walk to D.C.’

Red shrugged non committedly. 

‘Same reason a vamp covered in blood decides to drive there.’

‘Touché.’ 

By now, Adrian was focused more on Red than the road.

‘I am going there for a job.’ he admitted. ‘Some tiff between some Sabbat and Anarchs, something about a blood feud. I’m like a private contractor for shitty jobs like that.’ The mention of the Sabbat caused Red’s hoodie to jolt slightly, as if it were some unconscious buzzword.

‘You got problems with the Sabbat?’ it was a question that had intended to be casual, but Red’s fire still bled through a tiny part.

‘Christ no. I used to be Sabbat. Technically. Anyway, I had an ex-wife who was Sabbat. She wasn’t high up, but she wasn’t a shovelhead. She just was, y’know? I quite like their carefree attitude and their general oomph.’

‘Oomph?’ 

‘Yeah, like spirit, vibe, whatever you want to call it. That whole connection between packs. Beats being by yourself, driving in a car to get paid for peanuts for beating the crap out of Anarch bikers.’ Adrian nearly missed Red wincing, and her eyes snapped sharply to the road. Even though she was in the car, Red must have been somewhere else. The mentioning of packs and being alone was clearly the wrong move. Adrian sighed, and restarted the smoke cycle with his cigarettes.

‘Why did you leave the Sabbat?’ Red asked, the edge in her voice audible. 

‘You want the actual answer or some made up bullshit? I’ll be in D.C. for two nights tops, so I doubt I’ll ever see you when you leave the car.’

‘Humour me. So long as you aren’t with those Camarilla fucks, I don’t care what you are. I just want to know how you enjoy being lonely.’

‘I don’t enjoy being lonely.’ Adrian retorted slowly.

‘So why do all this then?’ This. Whatever the fuck was ‘this’? Existing, being, doing jobs, cracking jokes? Being a smarmy asshole?

‘Sharks need to swim all the time, right? It is how they breathe. They move in their sleep. If they don’t, they suffocate. I don’t know the science of it, but. I’m the same.’

Red’s hardset shoulders did not relax, nor had it from the outset of the car journey. She knew something of loneliness. Perhaps enough to write a book on it, or yell til the stars burnt out. 

‘Why do you do all this?’ Adrian asked Red’s question, though he could hazard a guess.

Despite the heat of the car, the temperature dropped and Red’s posture grew rigid and her being froze in her seat. 

‘I had something taken from me. I want the Camarilla to feel that same loss.’ 

‘Fair enough.’ It was a common enough answer. Nobody did grudges like the undead. They stewed, and had enough time to linger on it. A lonely Sabbat lick, though? Adrian had stumbled into an Odyssey, for sure. He was simply the next step in her quest, barely a fucking footnote in her story. Even if Red ended with a tragic fate, she would achieve something glorious, whether she wanted it or not. Whomever she was after was contending with a vendetta, a streak of red painted across an epitaph. Fucking righteous, and noble. More than Adrian was capable of.

‘You avoided my question earlier.’ Red asserted. ‘Why did you leave the Sabbat?’

‘I have commitment issues.’ Adrian smiled wryly and wiggled his eyebrows, undercutting the almost moment that was growing. Red scoffed in disgust, and half lifted her arms up to move the agitation from her soul to the motion of her body. 

‘Just drive.’ she demanded, and turned over so she could no longer see Adrian. 

Smooth moves, beheading the emotions that nearly spilled over. The rest of the car ride was bathed in palpable bone sickness, smothered in an aggressive anxiety. Even if the Fleetwood Cadillac was halfway through the journey, Adrian and Red were halfway through different stages of grief, of anger, and of the bitter condition that death had denied them.

Adrian couldn’t wait to get out of the States, and start all of it over. He could only hope that Red would manage closure for herself that he could never afford for himself.

[23fallencomets]

anyway i’m going to sleep now so enjoy a sargebon scene i cut out of Apartment 232!!

Logan comes home with a few bags of embroidery string, they’re small but god, are they filled to the brim. Alex eyes them when Logan drops them on the floor by the before clambering onto Alex’s lap.

He does that now, at any given chance.

“I don’t always want to have sex,” Logan had said once with a laugh, “I love it, but sometimes I just want to sit on your lap and hear about your day.”

“Finances are hardly interesting, darling.”

Logan makes a face, “They’re not. Unfortunately, I’m horribly invested in Pierre and Esteban’s rivalry. If they ever fight, my money’s on Este.

Alex wraps an arm around Logan, head leaned far back enough to look at Logan through half-lidded eyes. Logan is just staring at him, hands gently resting on Alex’s chest, his thumb running over the blue Sarge. Logan is wearing a black sweater, Albon mirrored on the left of his chest.

“I spoke to George today,” Logan says slowly, leaning his weight back into Alex’s knees. “It was weird, like I was getting the shovel talk?”

Alex’s hands tighten on Logan’s waist, causing him to twitch a little, “I don’t think he meant anything bad, and apparently, despite being so articulate, he loses his composure when he talks about you.”

“We were best friends,” Alex says, “The breakup was a long time coming, but stuff was said.”

Logan stares at him, blue eyes unblinking as his fingers fiddle with the drawstrings, “I’m realizing that now, actually. I’m not—this is a lot harder than I thought.”

Alex can’t help the chuckle, hands sliding down to rest on Logan’s thighs. His hands are trembling and Logan reaches down to hold them. They haven’t actually talked about Alex’s breakup and his subsequent isolation from his friends. Maybe the breakup was a lot worse than Alex’s had convinced himself it was.

“I genuinely feel like he didn’t mean to come off as rude or possessive, I guess, about you, but the way he was talking to me about you felt sort of patronizing? Like if I knew how you liked your tea and coffee, your favorite restaurants, things that make you, you.” Logan trails off, “I know we’ve known each other for a few months and have been dating for almost as long as that, but it just made me feel like—” like if i’m not good enough, he wants to say.

“We’re still getting to know each other,” Alex says softly, his thumbs gently caressing the back of Logan’s hands, “Sure we might’ve jumped the gun a bit too early, but we’re in the same boat, no? There’s things we still need to mentally prepare for, things we aren’t exactly jumping in joy to talk about, like why exactly you left Florida.”

Logan’s face twitches, it’s all quick and maybe if Alex hadn’t been paying attention he would have missed it, the quick downturn of his lips and the pain that flashed across his features.

“I’m not rushing you to talk about it,” Alex reassures, “I’m not going to rush you to tell me about it, I’m sure it’s bad, but I’m not laying in bed wondering about the horrors of America.”

It’s enough to get Logan to laugh, his head thrown back and Alex’s hand gods up to cup his neck, run his finger down the length of it. Logan flushes before he melts into it, his eyes closing as Alex’s hand carefully grips his neck. He’s barely putting pressure, just letting his hand stay there.

Logan breathes in, tilts his head away, “Don’t wanna do anything right now,” He mumbles, pressing his lips to the ball of Alex’s palm, “I get all floaty afterwards.” He does nip Alex’s palm though, pulling away fully with a grin.

Alex nods, files away the information he found, “I’ll talk to George,” He says suddenly, “It’s not fair of him to seek you out or whatever when he can’t even look me in the eyes.”

His boyfriend shrugs, clearly moved on from the slightly emotional heavy conversation. He slides off Alex’s lap and sits on the cushion near his bags, the cushion Alex had bought when he realized Logan sitting on the floor next to him was going to become a normal occurrence.

“Look at all of this.” Logan says, grin wide as he pulls out bundle after bundle , “Arthur bought them for me—don’t look at me like that.”

Alex forces his expression to relax, “I’m not looking at you like anything.”

Logan rolls his eyes, twisting his body to be on his side, his chin propped on Alex’s knee. His hair is a mess, and Alex can’t help but run his hands through the blonde strands, pushing them away from the unamused stare his boyfriend is giving him. It does make laugh, the annoyance washing off of Logan.

“He found out I have an actual embroidery machine—Dalton sent it over last week—and wants me to embroider somethings.” Logan pats his calf, “Don’t overthink it too much, darlin’.”

Alex shakes his head, picking up a bundle of red, black and yellow. He helps Logan sort them by color, watching the bundles fit into their color group; blues, reds, pinks, yellows and green, the whole rainbow.

“Wait, why am I never here when he sends you things?” Alex asks, “Am I just never home?”

Logan stands up, groaning slightly as he carefully collects his things, “I gave him Oscar’s address.” He says almost cautiously, picking at the blue thread, “It was part of the arrangement.”

Alex knew there was something sketchy about Logan’s family, but since he never said anything, Alex didn’t push for answers. Instead, he stands up and motions Logan onwards.

“Let me see this machine of yours.”

[shattersstar]

Please use this as a free pass to write "admiring them from afar" with anyone you want :^)

the hellcat spangled shalalala

pairing: college!au jason todd x reader

prompt: blossoming romance - admiring them from afar

warning: harassment mention (in joking context)

a/n: more college basketball au bc i say so! seriously tho thank u for the request it worked out as a great free pass ☺️ this can be read as a stand-alone or taking place after drawstring. comments r appreciated and i hope y’all enjoy ! and expect another part soonish <3

—

shot at the night series.

—

when your judgment’s on the run, and you’re acting like a stranger cause you thought it looked fun.

The morning sun casted a milky glow, pouring in through the windows and lighting up the store as clouds moved on. Summer began to roll through, exams a thing of the past as Gotham hummed with warmth. You were going to the beach sometime next week, even if it was over a two hour drive away, you were beyond excited. It had been easy to forget all about school, despite the fact the summer term was coming up and you were taking a course. On top of working at a cafe during the week, the gas station on weekend mornings, and still unpacking your new place, you were surprisingly busy.

It was why you hadn’t really seen Jason. Or at least what you had told yourself. You two were in a confusing place, you both knew you liked each other, had worked through some things, but you wanted time. To figure out how genuine your feelings were or if they were just because Jason admitted to liking you. It was nice to be desired, to be sought after, but you didn’t want to string Jason along.

Even if Jason took forever to tell you how he felt and handled it like an ass, he didn’t deserve that.

No one did.

The thought made you sigh as you looked over the columns of scratch and lotto tickets. You had never bought one when you turned of age and always wished you did. It seemed fun, if a bit pointless. You were engrossed with the paper coated in gossamer film that glimmered in the sunlight when the bell above the door rang. You peered through your lashes at whoever came in, heart skipping a beat as the object of your affection breezed through like an early morning fantasy. Jason sent you a quick smile before ducking towards the fridges in the back and scanning through the drinks.

You watched his tall figure from where you perched behind the counter. Elbows resting on the plastic case holding the tickets that no longer occupied your attention. His broad shoulders rose and fell with a sigh, black waves brushing the back of his neck. He was in track pants that hung low on his hips, shirt partially tucked in and giving you a chance to take in how his waist curved and held muscle and fat you could only imagine the delicious sight of.

“You guys don’t have anymore Propel?” Jason called, looking over his shoulder.

You nearly fell over being caught staring, opting to scrunch your nose at the question. “Unfortunately not sir. They don’t sell well because, personally, those drinks are grossly sweet.” You said in your best customer service voice, a grin pulling at Jason’s mouth as he turned back to the fridge.

“Uh huh. Thank you for your input.”

“I live to serve.” You chimed, loud enough for him to hear over the hum of the fridges and the quiet playlist you had put on. Jason snorted from the distance, prompting you to steal another look at him before you busied yourself with refilling the lighter display, which you had abandoned in favour of zoning out earlier.

You had always told Jason you were tired and bored on shift, opening at 5am most weekends. It had become a habit during the school year for him to stop by, usually on a run, but today with a bag slung across his body, you were sure he was heading to the gym on campus. Off season practice you supposed.

You also realized it likely meant when Jason moved off campus, it was still nearby if he was able to stop by before heading to campus. That or he went out of his way to see you, which made your heart skip another beat. You looked back over to Jason at the sound of the fridge door closing, trying to keep your eyes low as you followed his footsteps. He walked up the furthest aisle than down the one closest to the register, lingering while you shifted behind the counter.

“Anything I can help you find?” You called, sweetly.

Jason shook his head no, looking over at you that crooked smile. “Nah, I don’t think you guys carry what I’m looking for.” He opened the energy drink he picked, taking a sip while you smiled in return.

“Yeah unfortunately we don’t carry steroids.” You shrugged. Jason nearly spat out his drink as he laughed, and you were unable to contain your giggles from behind your hand. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, picking up a bag of chips before turning towards the cash. Jason placed both his items on the counter and tossed a granola bar there after pursuing the treats that sat below the register for a minute.

“That’s all.” He said, while you pointed at the drink.

“In future, we ask customers wait till purchase before opening food or drink.” You said, the playful air in your voice still there.

“Oh give my apologies to the owner.” Jason remarked, while you scanned his items.

“Will do…its been a while since you came in. And you didn’t get a patty today.” You muttered, looking at the screen. You had become used to your early morning meetings, even if exams and everything that happened between you two had kept Jason away since the term ended. It didn’t make it hurt less, but it wasn’t because of him. You knew you were the one putting up distance when he finally opened up to you.

“You remember all your regulars that well?” Jason asked tentatively.

“Only the cute ones,” You said, tapping the screen before adding, “Like that redhead you used to come in with whose dropped dead gorgeous. You ever give out his name or number?” You teased, Jason was well aware you knew Roy and his number.

“What does he normally get again?” Jason countered, and you pulled your lip between your teeth as you met his gaze. You stayed silent before raising your hands in defeat, you knew when you lost your battles.

The computer beeped at you for taking too long, and you chuckled awkwardly before pressing a few buttons. You could feel his eyes taking in your side profile as he often did. You wondered how you didn’t know Jason’s true feelings before when you caught him admiring you so often. And worse, how could you think your feelings were anything, but genuine when every time Jason did something like that, your heart raced.

He was so beautiful and could have anyone, a sentiment you felt tenfold when you learned he played for the university’s basketball team, but Jason chose you. He looked at you and made you feel like no one else did and you had been foolish to deny that for so long.

“It’s 9.55.” You said, as he handed you cash.

“You can keep the change.” Jason said, shoving his snacks into his bag.

“I definitely don’t get paid enough so thanks.”

Jason hummed, fiddling with the lid on his drink, and despite the platform the counter sat on, he was still taller than you. You were almost eye level like this, but Jason still had to glance down as he spoke his next words. “You called me cute earlier.”

“Oh I did?” You played dumb and Jason’s jaw shifted, but you knew he wasn’t angry. The ease that normally flowered between you two took over your conversation as he nodded.

“Pretty sure.”

“Well if you wanna file a harassment claim, it’ll be with the owner you owe an apology too.”

“Maybe that makes us even.” Jason said, quiet.

“Maybe…or you could pick me up after my shift if you really wanna square things. I finish earlier today.” You said, gaze flickering between the lotto tickets and Jason’s face. A boyish grin took over his expression as genuine excitement seemed to fill him.

“Fuck yeah—I mean yeah, that’d be great. What time?” He reeled himself in while you toyed with his receipt.

“Noon instead of three.” Jason nodded, that wild glint in his eyes spelt trouble in the best way. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and while distracted, you placed your palms flat on the counter and pushed yourself to his height. You pressed a quick kiss on Jason’s cheek before settling onto the stool behind you. Jason nearly dropped his bottle as he processed what you just did.

“See you later Jason, I’ll save you a patty if all the construction guys don’t get to them first.” You promised, as he headed towards the door, running his fingers through his hair and looking back at you with indiscernibility. It was shock and awe you supposed.

“See ya baby!” Jason called as he left, dazed tone and pet name threatened to set you on fire as a group of kids barrelled in and darted straight to the freezer. You paid no mind to their yells and counted the hours till Jason picked you up for your first date.

shalalala.

~

title/lyrics from the hellcat spangled shalalala by arctic monkeys

more reading: college/uni hcs + jason todd