#the pay isn’t good and I won’t treat you well either

[ozzgin]

Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)

Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D

Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW

[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]

The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.

Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.

"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."

You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:

"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."

He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.

"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”

Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.

“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.

“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”

“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.

You sigh.

Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.

How's your life with Zzy going?

You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?

On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”

If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”

Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.

As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.

Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.

"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.

"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."

You sigh once more and roll over.

"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.

"Just go to sleep. Or something."

[targaryenluvs]

REAL LOVE BABY! / CLARK KENT

PAIRING: Red Kryptonite!Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: To make your ex jealous, your best friend suggests the two of you work together. But it’s not like you knew, he was never planning on letting you go.

WARNINGS: Fake Dating Trope, Obsession, Jealousy, Dark themes, Cursing, Non-Consensual Kissing/Touching, Implied Sex, Baby Trapping, Red Kryptonite Clark

WORDCOUNT: 1,390 Words

A/N: Hello folks! This fic is apart of the lovely @lady-ashfades collab event! Here is the masterlist, go over and give it a look and read with a lot of great writers and tropes ❤️ You can imagine this with any Clark but I was leaning towards Smallville Clark!

Your teeth were bound to be ground into nothing if you kept going at this pace. The drink in your hand was warm, despite the ice inside. Your entire face was flushed as you watched your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, stand around and laugh.

His footsteps surprisingly weren’t heavy, “The longer you stare, the creepier it gets.” Clark laughed as you turned his way, eyebrows knitted together in anger. “Who cares, why the hell is he allowed to be so happy. If a girl moves on that fast it’s a shit show.” You downed your drink before turning to the barkeep, he didn’t even need to ask, nor did you.

Another glass slid your way.

Clark was quicker than you, he always was. “This isn’t how you get over someone Y/n/n.” You couldn’t help but whine as you stared at the small glass, it wasn’t small but Clark made it look tiny. “You want me to switch to ice cream Kent?” Clark scoffed, his teeth as white ever.

His hand came to hold yours once he’d placed the glass out of your reach, “Anything, as long as it won’t hurt you.” You couldn’t help but smile at him, “Always looking out for me aren’t you?”

Oh you have no idea.

“Always, you’re my best girl.”

“And you’re my best friend too.” You stood on your toes to kiss his cheek, not noticing how time seemed to stand still to him. His hand came to your waist to steady you, “What if we could make him jealous?” Clark kept hold of your arms, which you found odd. “Uh, how do you mean?” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eye, so you glanced at his hands taking note of the tacky red ring. His hand rose to your cheek, cradling it before leaning in, “I mean this.”

Clarks lips connected with yours as your eyes widened, this was definitely not how you expected your night to go.

You pulled away after what felt like a lifetime to be met with a wide smile, “I— you,” Clark’s head was turned towards your ex Jake. “Well he’s definitely noticed you now.” Taking. a quick glance, you viewed an angry man not taking notice of the girl clinging on his arms.

Shaking your head to try and clear your mind did nothing. What the hell was going on? Pinching the bridge of your nose, you looked back to Clark, “You kissed me to make him jealous? You’re my best friend Clark and this isn’t a movie.”

“Oh come on, a macho guy like him never thinks before getting angry. And would you rather use some random friend or your best friend? You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you Y/n/n.” Tucking your hair behind your ear you nodded along, maybe this would pay off. Either it would help you get over him or get him back.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

Clarks eyes shifted, whether it was just the lighting or something more, you didn’t take notice.

“Baby I’m gonna treat you so good—,”

“Don’t quote Pretty Woman on me Kent!”

Bliss. The next few weeks with Clark by your side were pure bliss in your opinion. Almost every day you woke up to a nice message from him wishing you a good morning. Before, unluckily for you, your ex worked with both yourself and Clark. But now it was the best thing since it was undeniably easy to rub your glee in his face.

“Coffee M’lady?” He had a mug in his hand, outstretched in your direction as you took in the lovely smell of the love of your life, and Clark was there too. “I love you.” Your hands practically snatched the mug from his grip, “Oh I guess I like you too.”

Clark shook his head as you giggled sweetly before taking a sip of heaven to start your day, “You wound me.” You raised your eyebrows, “I keep you on your toes baby.” The word slipped so easily you didn’t even notice, but Clark did. So did Jake as he entered the break room.

You used to call him baby.

Taking your coffee, you mobilised and left the room, leaving your ex and best friend fake boyfriend with tension galore radiating from the room. “Kent.” Jake grunted in acknowledgement, “Jake.” The smirk on Clark’s face was infuriating, “Stop.”

He played dumb as he twisted the Ruby like ring, “Stop what?” Clark tilted his head as he questioned him, “Rubbing her in my face.” His laugh screamed superiority somehow, “Trust me, Y/n wouldn’t want to rub herself on you any-day or anyhow. She has me for that anyways.”

“Oh you fucking—,”

“Clark!” Your shout from down the hall caused both of the men to turn immediately, “Watch yourself Kent.” Clark snickered in his face, “Yeah, cause I’m so scared of you right? Chin up Jakey.”

Jake watched as Clark walked away, jaw close the to the floor at the audacity and arrogance around the sweetheart that was Clark Kent. How the hell was he your best friend?

For some reason you just keep going. Never announcing that you were dating but falling into this calm stage of friendship? A relationship? You were fake dating, or supposed to be, but it felt almost normal now. And whenever you’d bring forwards the topic of what you were Clark would always shut it down.

Especially when it came to the two of you returning to friends.

So after a consultation with Lois, you ended up taking him out for a night on the town. Drinks, fun and hopefully enough time for a talk.

You wiped your eyes as Clark laughed at your wheezing, “I can never imagine you acting so confident! Not in a bad way but— oh god, half the time when your food is too salty you just buck up and eat it. I don’t know why you confronting someone is so foreign!”

Clark shook his head as he crossed his arms, “That’s the old Clark. Don’t you like someone who takes control?” Suddenly the jacket you had on was far too warm and restricting as you choked on air, “Uhh, sure.” You absentmindedly answered before ordering another drink.

Not realising it was already your fourth, Clark hadn’t touched his drink.

“It’s so dark.” Clark nodded as you clung onto bicep, “Luckily I’m here no?” He glanced down at you with a sinister smile and he couldn’t help but admire the glee on your face. “Lucky you’re here.” You agreed.

He was in for a good night.

The sun was harsh in your eyes, attempting to roll over to escape you were met with a human blockade in the form of, Clark?

“Oh you’re fucking kidding me.”

Clarks eyes fluttered open at your exclamation, “What’s wrong Sweetheart?” You shot up, clutching the sheet to your chest as he laughed at your actions, “I’ve already done that to you Y/n/n.” Clutching your head in your hands you tried to make sense of how you ended up in your best friend’s bed naked after a normal night out.

You shook your head vehemently, “That’s— that’s not the point Clark! How the hell did we end up at your place when we were walking to mine? And how… please tell me we didn’t.” Your eyes were beginning to gloss over as guilt pinched at his heart, “Hey, hey I’ve got you. I’m so sorry I don’t know either. We both drank a lot but I would never take advantage of you I swear. It was mutual but you trust me right?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue, especially not with the soreness resting in your body, “I just, I’m confused Clark. I don’t know why I got into bed with you, or you got in with me. Don’t you think this would ruin our friendship?”

He sighed as he managed to slowly lull you into his arms with a gentle smile, “Sweetheart, I think we’ve been more than friends for a while. Tell me you’ve hated these past few weeks and I’ll stop. This is Real Love Baby. He never deserved you.” Having someone with you, constantly doting on you. Especially when it was so easy to talk to them since they were your best friend.

You gave in that night, and gave in again.

[velchronica]

blue lock boys’ perfect matches ( part i ) ♬~*.°₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bllk

charas: isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, reo (seperate, aged up/pro, fem!reader)

୨୧ * my personal hcs on who the bllk boys would fall in love with, how they’d meet and some scenarios unique to their relationships * just for fun -> nothing serious ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ * (part one/???)

isagi yoichi! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * i feel like isagi would probably be the type who falls in love with the sports journalist interviewing him 😭 he’s such a football nerd & he’d defo suit someone who understands his passion, esp on a technical level. he defo rambles and borderline mansplains his tactics and plays to a sports journalist!s/o, but i also think he’s good at finding a decent work-life balance, so sports isn’t everything in your relationship.

୨୧ * isagi’s ability to separate his professional life aka his football ego/persona from his sweet irl personality would make him a green flag bf, bc he defo puts in as much effort into his relationship as he does football. he loves football, but he also loves his s/o just as much, if not slightly more, so while football is a prominent part in both your lives, it isn’t necessarily the defining factor in your relationship.

୨୧ * i also think isagi would date someone driven towards their own career, even if it’s not journalism. he defo would LOVE you in sporty clothing or leggings that show off ur thighs cos he has a canonical thing for those lmao. oh AND he’s the type who’s quite good with kids but has a level of awkwardness with them still, so watching his s/o struggle to interact with them would set him up for a laugh (w/ no ill intent, ofc). but if you’re really good with kids, no problem, because he’ll just watch you with sparkling eyes full of awe, heart swelling with unbridled affection.

୨୧ * he would defo be the perfect bf if you’re a picky eater cos he’ll find ways to work with your preferences but also encourage you to try new foods. the gentlemen who whisks you out everywhere to try new cuisine at nice restaurants and sneakily pays mid-meal during a ‘bathroom break’ so that when you attempt to pull your card out afterwards, he can simply smile and shake his head. goddamnit isagi. his argument is that growing up average and then getting propelled into wealth and fame means that he jumps at every opportunity to spoil you and show you off. you’re beautiful inside and out and he won’t treat you like anything less than a goddess.

bachira meguru! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * bachira’s ideal s/o is either someone who loves retro 70s clothing, an indie band kid, or both combined. i feel like bachira’s goofy ass would go well with someone sweet, but not quite as hyperactive as himself. his ideal s/o is definitely either a bookworm or a guitarist, with no in between. he’s defo such a gremlin with you, either interrupting your peaceful reading sessions by being clingy and demanding cuddles, or asking you to play his favourite songs instead of the things you’re meant to be practicing.

୨୧ * bachira would go to every single one of guitarist!s/o’s gigs. he loves you so much, after all! you can hear his holler of your name over the crowds cheers as the speakers blare and your strings come to life. he’s not a memorisation-strong kind of guy, but he definitely knows all the lyrics to your favourite songs, and the lyrics to your originals, too. he has two versions of each one of your albums, one for the cd and one to add to the house-of-cd-cases-turned-shrine he has assembled somewhere in your apartment.

୨୧ * whereas with bookworm!s/o, bachira got his mom to teach him how to paint so that he could do those viral page-edge paintings. on your birthday, he gifts you hardback copies of your favourite books with intricate fore-edge paintings to match. if your favourite book has a movie or tv show adaption that you love, he definitely painted your favourite scene. although he’s not an avid reader, bachira will listen to your attempts to summarise a recently-read novel, even if he’s not quite following by halfway through.

୨୧ * he also only sporadically posts on his socials, but when he does, it’s usually random shitposts or spam posts of the two of you together. maybe at a gig or at a bookstore, but they’re all ‘artistically’ blurry. still, both of your smiles are clearly visible despite the lack of phone camera focus.

chigiri hyoma! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * if you tell me this man wouldn’t date a a fashion magazine editor!s/o, you’re lying. he’s such a princess, and i can just imagine him as being a passionate fashionista as well, so i think he’d suit someone with a similar love for and knowledge of style. bring this man to fashion week please. actually, he probably met you there. he defo also impulse buys designer, whether it’s bags, clothes or just a pair of shades. he’s a diva like that /hj

୨୧ * shopping is a battle to the death between the two of you on which store to go in next. there’s not enough hours in the working day to account for your retail therapy sessions, given how long the two of you spend browsing the aisles together. at some point you panic, wondering where you’ve misplaced $500 of clothes, until your boyfriend rolls his eyes and shakes the bags he’s holding. you don’t even remember giving him the bags.

୨୧ * the two of you definitely rate and critique met gala outfits together. contrary to what most may believe, it is a NEED, not a want. when someone comes wandering onto the red carpet dressed in this year’s fashion monstrosity, just know that the two of you will be referencing it for days if not weeks, because really, how could anyone have the guts to go out wearing that?

୨୧ * just hope that you’re good with hair, because this fussy princess isn’t going to let you within ten feet of his if you have a brush in hand and you aren’t. his hair is his prized possession for all that he does the bare minimum to look as dazzling as he does, and chigiri would rather not ruin it. but if you’re good at elaborate and pretty hairdos, just know that his winding down comfort time is letting you try out new styles, strands of pink dancing over one another as they’re weaved into place by your fingers.

kunigami rensuke! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * kunigami’s so highschool sweethearts-coded. maybe you started dating before blue lock and persevered through his change in persona, knowing full well that his kind and hardworking self was still present under the gruff, cold exterior. maybe he pined after you hopelessly for years until stumbling upon you years later. either way, he’s been madly in love with you since your high school days, and don’t think he’ll ever stop.

୨୧ * but like oh my god, this man would SO date a kindergarten (or elementary school) teacher!s/o. someone who is doting and good with kids, but is also hardworking and knows how to reward people efforts or work on their lack thereof. maybe it’s his superhero agenda but i think early years teachers are heroes in themselves, teaching young children valuable life lessons and basic skills and subjects, and therefore i think kunigami would really suit a teacher!s/o.

୨୧ * bring this man to meet your students and give them an assembly on how taking care of themselves plus hard work are the keys to fulfilling their dreams. the way these kids would be screaming because their sweet, humble teacher is dating football phenomenon kunigami rensuke, and he’s here to tell them that alcohol and nicotine addictions aren’t healthy. plus, eat your greens, kids. you’ll become a superhero in no time.

୨୧ * kunigami is either hopeless at cooking, five star michelin-worthy malewife chef material, or, the most boring option, the most mid chef of all time. ‘mid’ as in, he can put together a decent meal but nothing mindblowing, only occasionally tries to cook something new. i like to think that as the middle child, his older sister is a lost cause when it came to cooking, and his younger sister is quite the closet gourmet, so he knows how to cook pretty damn well. just know that after a long day, if he’s home earlier than you, you can expect an array of delectable dishes and the most delicious feast you can imagine waiting for you.

mikage reo! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * i feel like reo would date someone who is far from having grown up well-off, maybe someone who grew up with difficult domestic circumstances, someone who’s fought tooth and nail to reach where they are today. for this reason, i feel like he’d date a corporate ceo!s/o. he admires how you’re both self-assured and self-made, and how your success bloomed from your own efforts and skill. to reo, who’s grown up with privilege and wealth without ever really having to try before he found football, he can’t help but find your work ethic and resilience attractive. they say confidence is attractive, after all.

୨୧ * he loves to spoil you, but he definitely doesn’t buy your love. while a good portion of his gifts to you do involve a waving of his black card, and are often designer, he also likes the authenticity of doing something for you. after all, with all the money in the world, he worries material goods may seem like half-assed presents that can’t even convey half of his feelings towards you. especially a ceo!s/o, because he’d hate for you to feel belittled by his love just because he was born into money. that won’t do at all! so now reo invests a lot of his spare time learning to do things himself, so that he can then do those things for you.

୨୧ * one of those things was pottery. prior to the two of you moving in together, he had been taking classes on ceramics and pottery so that he could surprise you with his hand-crafted and painted dining set. plates, mugs, bowls—each of them were painted with motifs relevant to places you’d been together. from the tropical beaches of bali, to the mountain views of peru and even the most famous italian vineyards—every plate was painted to bear some resemblance to the backgrounds of photos you’d taken at these locations. after all, reo is quite the globetrotter, because he loves going on adventures with you.

୨୧ * but sometimes the best days are days when you can laze about together. listen, reo’s always been the type of guy to never have a moment of rest. he always had so many things to do, because he was so good at everything that people usually required more of him. not that it was impossible for him, but it did mean a lot of his life was always scheduled out, busy and hectic. that’s why reo relishes in the moments where can relax in your arms, away from prying eyes, the paparazzi, the outside world—he loves how you can make a day full of nothing everything to him.

© velchronica 2024

[trendywaifus]

Okay,how Nicole demara with an S/O that loves taking care of her and helping her out with her business.

i’ll make this a hc!

— getting spoiled by you is an experience she grew to absolutely adore (she won’t admit that).

she’s looking at her nails, grumbling about how it’s time to get it done. the polish is peeling from her nails and it’s starting to annoy her. you gently grab her hand, bringing it up to your lips to kiss the pad of her fingers. nicole’s already red, pink lips parted with surprise as she verbally questions what you’re doing.

“ do you want me to pay for them, nicole? we can get them done today. “ you offer, kissing her pointed finger one more time before letting them go. secretly over the moon by your gesture, she shyly averts her lowered gaze to somewhere else that isn’t you.

“ y-yes, i would like to, (name). “ she trails off, stifling back a dopey smile on her face. she’s def gonna brag and show off later.

— when it comes to doing little side gigs like selling drinks, food, or whatever, you’re the one who’s prepping the items. nicole’s the one setting the prices. nekomata, and the other two are either doing their own thing or helping out in some way. for some reason, you sell the most between you and nicole and it annoys her. it annoys her because you’re very easy on the eyes, so people are naturally drawn to you and find the need to flirt with you while you’re trying to do business. you’re hers, damnit. does she have to stand by you so those pesky people can stop the funny business, buy her stuff, and go?

“ meow, it seems like they’re at it again.” nekomata comments, looking at the growing line of people waiting to buy a popsicle from you. nicole merely grumbles, quietly watching everything from afar as you politely hand the two women cold treats.

“ oh before we go, you have such a beautiful smile. are you single? “

“ no, i’m not. sorry. “

“ aw, well i hope to see you around, cutie! “

nicole’s brows twitch.

you wave goodbye at the two women before welcoming a group of men. one of the men shoves a guy from the back to the front, appearing awkward and fidgety. “ erm, can we all get a popsicle? is there a deal going on? “

“ mhm, since there’s like 5 of you. 5 for 10$. “

“ damn. 5 for 10$? “

“ u-um, i’ll take it, “ he stutters, digging in his beach short’s pocket for his wallet. he hands you a ten dollar bill and you give him the pack of popsicles.

“ al-also, i’ve been watching you—not like a stalker or anything! but like—“

“ meow? you totally sound like a stalker.” nekomata remarks, hearing the conversation closely. “ what? nekomata! what are they saying other there? i can hardly hear anything because of these damn seagulls!” nicole snarls, adjusting the visor on her head to block off the sun from her eyes.

“ the guy is hitting on (name), but, he’s. . not scoring. “

“ good! (name)’s is my partner, anyways! they better go search somewhere far away to find someone perfect like them, hmph! “

— i can imagine you and nicole being the best duo when it comes to collecting money from scamming clients.

the four, beaten up men kneels in fear as you tower over them with a smug smirk on your face.

“ so boys, “ nicole comes up behind you and rest a hand on your shoulder with her other hand on her hips, “ we now have an understanding, right? “

“ y-yes—yes! we do! please, no more! “ one of the men begged, clasping his hands together desperately.

“ good~ make sure you pony up the cash by tomorrow or we’ll make sure you won’t be able to piss straight for a month. “ nicole threatens, smirking menacingly at the men. they all let out noises of fear and nervously bobbed their heads.

with an arm wrapped loosely around her waist, you add on, “ you better listen to my girl, or i’ll make it two months for your goofy asses. “

[clu-ven]

A Curious Mind

summary: Hunter has always treated you slightly different and Omega is determined to find out why

word count: 2.1k

!reader goes by she/her pronouns!

The bright suns of Plurax make you wince, your arm instinctively coming up to shield your eyes. Shuffling out of the Marauder, you’re about to follow Echo down the steps when a hand suddenly appears in front of you. 

“Oh!” you abruptly stop, almost colliding with it. Looking over to identify the owner of the hand, Hunter comes into view, an amused smile playing at his lips. 

Already on the ground below, he stretches his gloved hand up to you, offering some support as you exit. You give him a grateful smile “Thanks Sarge”. 

Slipping your hand into his, Hunter gives you a small, reassuring squeeze and you continue your descent down. 

You’re not sure why you were so surprised by the action, after all, this isn’t a rare occurrence. In fact, it’s the opposite. Whether you have to jump a few feet from a ship or simply walk down a landing platform, Hunter always offers you his hand. 

Every. Single. Time.

Once your feet reach the ground, he nods his head and reluctantly lets his hand fall from yours. His grip on his helmet, placed neatly underneath his other arm tightens for a moment as he wonders if he should have said more to you. 

Oblivious to Hunter’s internal worries, you walk over to the rest of the batch and listen to Tech’s recap of the plan.

Turning back to the ship, Hunter taps the command panel and watches as the Marauder begins to close. Sensing eyes on him, he glances over his shoulder to the rest of the batch, only to realise none of them are paying much attention to him. 

Casting his gaze downwards, his eyes meet Omega’s, who peers up at him curiously.

“Why do you always do that?” she asks.

“So we won’t get raided,” he shrugs as if the answer is obvious “or worse, if someone sees a ship like this unlocked, they’ll steal it and get a few thousands credits for it, especially with the amount of upgrades it has”. 

“What? No, not that” Omega rolls her eyes, returning Hunter’s ‘that should be obvious’ tone. 

When Omega says your name, Hunter’s eyes go wide, his posture becoming stiff as she elaborates “You always help her off the ship… why?”. His eyes flick over to you as Omega talks, hoping you didn’t hear her say your name. 

Thankfully you’re too busy listening to Tech, who’s explaining your part of the mission to you.

“Just to be nice, I guess” he mumbles his response, trying to keep his voice low. 

“But you don’t do it for Wrecker or Tech or Echo… hey, you don’t do that for me either!” she exclaims, a tinge of annoyance in her voice.

Hunter shakes his head, his mind turning to mush as he tries to think of an easy explanation “Well, that’s because you don’t need help getting off the ship”.

It’s like he can see the cogs turning in Omega’s head, already cringing at his answer as she questions “... but she needs help? She can’t get off the ship if you don’t hold her hand?”.

Oh Kriff. 

“Well, no, that’s not what I meant-” he starts but Omega quickly talks over him. “Is she not good with balance? Is it like how Wrecker doesn’t like heights?”. 

Before Hunter can form a response, Wrecker loudly interrupts them, the mere mention of his fear getting his full attention.

“Heights?!” Wrecker repeats, drawing everyone’s focus to Hunter and Omega. Throwing his head back, Wrecker lets out a whine “Oh please tell me this mission doesn’t involve heights”.

“Plurax is a relatively flat planet,” Tech interjects, his eyes still fixed on his datapad “and considering our main objective is to extract the bacta pods found in the small medical facility, I doubt heights will be involved”.

Wrecker lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders deflating. “Phew, you almost got me that time, Hunter” he chuckles. 

Hunter nods, hoping to quickly brush past this entire situation. “Right, well let’s get this over and done with” taking his helmet from underneath his arm, Hunter places it on his head.

“But what about my quest-” Omega starts but Hunter cuts her off, acutely aware that you as well as the others are still listening “Later, Omega. All that matters right now is the mission”. With a sigh, she nods her head.

***

After successfully retrieving the bacta pods, the Marauder is quiet… for once. The hum of the ship speeding through hyperspace fills the silence as everyone gets some much needed rest. 

Peering out of her room, Omega holds on to Lula the tooka doll as she scans the bunks. Wrecker sleeps in one, his arm obscuring his face and thankfully muffling his snores. On the other bunk, Tech is fast asleep and judging by the pile of blankets on the upper bunk, you’re asleep up there.

Tip-toeing past, Echo comes into view. He’s seated at the table, head resting on his arm as he mumbles in his sleep. Continuing on her journey, Hunter is the last person for Omega to see, his seated form visible when she approaches the cockpit. Slowly, she nears him.

From the corner of his eye, Hunter notices Omega, subtly watching as she quietly walks forward. “You should be asleep” Hunter’s voice cuts through the silence, making Omega stop in her tracks.

She sighs, giving up her attempt to sneak “But I can’t, I’m not tired”. Hopping up on the seat beside him, Omega keeps Lula close to her, curling up on the chair. 

Hunter doesn’t reply. He knows how hard it is to go from being on high alert on a mission to being told to get some rest, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

He remembers the first few missions he ever went on and how hard it was to rest, his senses too overwhelmed to even comprehend the idea of sleep. 

“You did it again, y’know” Omega says, pulling his attention back to her.

“What?” Hunter has a suspicious feeling he knows what she’s talking about but he hopes if he feigns some kind of ignorance then hopefully she’ll drop it.

“You helped her back onto the ship,” she explains, some sarcasm in her voice as she teases “when we were leaving Plurax… she must have really bad balance if you have to help her all the time”.

Head dipping down, Hunter’s hair obscures his face. “Omega,” he groans “she doesn't have balance problems, it’s just… look, it’s better if you let this go, ok?”.

“But why?” she drops her legs down, leaving them dangle freely.

“It’s… complicated”.

“How?” she presses, shrugging as she mumbles “I’m just curious”.

“Yeah, too curious,” Hunter says with an affectionate scoff and shake of his head.

Trying to simplify it, Omega begins listing out “Earlier you said that you do it to be nice but you only do it for her, nobody else! She doesn’t need you to do it since she doesn’t actually have any balance problems, hmmm and it’s pretty obvious you don’t like it when people point it out”. Hunter grimaces the more Omega goes on. 

Thinking out loud, she furrows her brow “I wonder if she notices, I mean it’s pretty obvious so she must have by now…maybe I should ask her”.

“What? No!“ Hunter is quick to sit on the edge of his seat, facing Omega fully “You can’t do that, that’s a direct order”. Despite his pleading look, Omega simply raises an eyebrow, knowing she’s got him right where she wants him.

“Okay, I won’t ask her,” she complies before adding “but you have to tell me why!”.

Hunter sighs. A part of him is impressed, equally proud of her determination as well as cursing it. Sighing, he avoids her eye contact as he tries to explain. 

“Well, since she’s not… uh, a clone… I just want to make sure… that, um… that she feels welcome” yes, Hunter is making this up as he goes. It’s true, of course but not his main reason. 

Omega is not convinced, her face the epitome of disappointment. Not giving in, she replies “Yeah, that’s nice and all, Hunter but I don’t think that’s why”. 

Hunter’s body deflates, putting his face in his hands. Even if he wants to, he doesn’t think he can get the words out. This is something he’s never had to verbalise before nor is it something he’s had to admit to anybody.

With his face still covered, he hears Omega’s voice “Can I tell you my theory?”.

He doesn’t reply and yet Omega continues “I think you like her”. Hunter can hear her smile in her tone, removing his hands to confirm his suspicions. 

Watching for his reaction, Omega beams up at him. “And I mean like like her” she adds with the wiggle of her eyebrows.

Hunter keeps his face still, unsure how to react. 

“I mean, it’s not a bad thing if you do,” she shrugs, offering some reassurance “I think it’s kinda cute, especially since she like likes you too”. 

He freezes. 

What?

Judging by the stunned look on Hunter’s face, Omega explains “I overheard her saying it to Echo, she said something about her heart racing whenever you’re around and being paranoid over it. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing at first but every time you do something nice for her, she gets all lovey-dovey so I think it’s a good thing”.

“Lovey-dovey?” Hunter scrunches up his face, not quite believing what his sister is saying.

“Yeah, like this” clutching her hands together, Omega tries her best to bat her eyelashes as she lets out a comically loud sigh before giving Hunter a goofy smile.

With a grin tugging at his lips, he dismisses “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her do that before”.

“That’s because you always look away!” she exclaims “ooh, I’ll have to add that to the list; you’re really bad at keeping eye contact with her”.

He rolls his eyes but the idea that maybe, just maybe you like him too distracts Hunter from properly deflecting Omega’s addition to her list. Even the idea of their being some hope that you feel the same way is enough to send Hunter’s head spinning. 

Yawning, Omega hops down from her seat “I’m just saying, it would be a shame if you both like like each other but never tell one another”. 

Hunter stays quiet, though he knows she’s right. “Anyways, I’ll try to get some sleep, night Hunter” giving him one last smile, Omega leaves him alone with his thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, Hunter leans back in his seat, resting one of his legs by the command panel as he looks out at the whirling blue lights of hyperspace. Hunter closes his eyes, trying to centre himself. Only you could daze him as much as this and make it feel so damn exciting. 

Were the signs that you liked him back always there? For a guy with heightened senses, he presumed he would have picked up on it… but Omega is right, he doesn’t exactly hold eye contact with you. And whenever he hears the loud beating of a heart when you’re near, he hurriedly assumes it’s his own.

Speaking of his senses, he can tell Omega is still there, hovering by the doorway. He waits a few seconds, giving her the time to speak but she doesn’t.

Hunter knows where this is going, presuming she’ll either ask him to carry her back to bed or try to convince him to get her a snack. He takes his time opening his eyes again, turning his upper body to look at her.

Hunter can feel his stomach drop. His body automatically freezing as if you won’t see him if he doesn’t move. 

You give him an equally bewildered look, a twist of anxiety in your gut. “Can we talk?” you ask, the words coming out quieter than expected.

Hunter has one main question on his mind: how much have you heard? And yet he doesn’t ask that question, instead blurting out “But I thought you were sleeping?”. 

Is that a question? Or a statement? Hunter has no idea, his brain utterly scattered.

You smile nervously. “I was getting ready to go to sleep,” you reveal “I was just in the refresher”.

Pointing to the door to the refresher, Hunter’s heart lurches at how close it is to the cockpit, knowing you’ve definitely heard everything.

Clearing his throat, Hunter nods “Yeah, let’s talk”. It’s better to talk this through now, while everyone else is asleep. 

He isn’t sure how this will go, still doubtful that you could actually like him back. But there’s only one way to find out. Hunter gives you a small smile as you sit where Omega was minutes ago. Once you’re comfortably seated, Hunter takes a deep breath and begins…

[cerise-on-top]

hellooooo! can you write on how you think Laswell and Valeria would react to their wife’s randomly bringing home a small kitten she found on the side of the road/in a ally? Also I hope you are feeling better lovely!

Hello! In all honesty, I'm not doing too great right now, I should really be resting up, but I can't because of work! Oh well, it happens!

Valeria and Laswell’s S/O Bringing Home a Kitten

Valeria: She would not care for the little thing in the slightest, in all honesty. Valeria knows that she’s absent very often, so she can’t exactly blame you for wanting a small animal companion to keep you company. Besides, she’d rather have it be a small animal than some other person. Still, she’s not the biggest fan of animals. While she may not hate them, she simply doesn’t care about them, regardless of what they are or how cute they may be to anyone else. You can keep your little kitten, she doesn’t care too much about it as long as she gets you to herself when she is at home. However, if the cat gets more of your attention than she does, that’s when she’s starting to get a little bit jealous. If you’re not looking, she’ll shoo the little critter away, hoping it’ll get the message and leave you and her alone. That’s when she’ll come to dislike your kitten a little bit. However, if you bug her enough about it, she might begrudgingly apologize to it, but only when you’re around. She won’t be outright mean to it, but she will put it away from your lap and place it somewhere else if she thinks you’re paying too much attention to it. The little critter can meow all it wants, it’s not getting any extra treats from her. Valeria will only feed it when you don’t have the time to do so, and even then it’s on thin ice. Although she usually prides herself on being a competent and confident woman, it’s so evident that Valeria’s as jealous as it gets, and of a cat as well. You can tease her about it too, she won’t really do anything about it because she can’t. She loves you and doesn’t wanna hurt you, which includes not hurting your stinky furball. It’s obvious it makes you happy, and that’s what she wants to see in this otherwise rotten world.

Laswell: Although she isn’t the biggest animal lover, she can appreciate a cute animal when she sees one, but wasn’t sure she heard you correctly when you claimed to have rescued that kitten from an alley. Laswell knows that cats are independent enough when they’re older, at the very least, but you can’t really leave a kitten all alone for now. Besides, what if it’s got some sort of disease? As long as you take good care of it, Laswell won’t mind having a kitten be brought home, but she won’t have too much time to take care of it either, so you’re gonna have to be committed to taking care of it. She may not be a fan of having a cat around at home at first, but she grows fond of it anyway. Think of all the “My dad and the cat he didn’t want at first” memes, that’s literally her. Either way, she does think you have a heart of gold for wanting to rescue a small and defenseless animal that had nowhere to go. However, don’t make it a habit to continuously rescue animals, she doesn’t have the time or space for all of them, so please just keep it to one, maybe two, at most. Laswell, when she can, will feed the kitten and play with it. Sometimes you might even catch her sleeping with it. Especially when the kitten is more mature and has calmed down from all the playing frenzy, that’s when Laswell might hug it more often and sometimes even take naps with it. Will help you out whenever you need anything from her. Your cat needs to go to the vet? It needs some more food? The last few toys you got for it are broken and or torn? Don’t worry, Laswell’s got you covered. She’s got enough money to make your cat’s life very luxurious, as luxurious as it gets, even. The food will be of the highest quality, it will get all the meds it could possibly need, if it needs them, and the toys will always be provided for. The little kitten probably couldn’t have asked for better owners, in all honesty.

[pascalsbby]

Summary: He’s been hunting you for weeks now. It’s funny how on the first truly crisp day of October, on Halloween, is when he decides that he’s had enough of it. He’s hungry.

Joel Miller pays a Halloween visit.

Word Count: 700

Warnings: 18 + mndi, sex (p in v), age gap, power imbalance, pet names, possessive tendencies, teetering into brat tamer territory, dbf!neighbor!joel, the “daddy’s not around? good,” trope.

I hope you’re celebrating the holiday accordingly babes.

You know it’s his knock before you even open the door. Something about the way his thick knuckles reverberate through the wood.

“Boo.”

The bottoms of his boots hit the threshold as his shoulders fill the height of your doorway. The wind blows in the heaviness of his presence. His voice scares something in you, sure, shakes something a little loose. You reckon you won’t be able to find whatever it is until it completely falls out of you.

Or is whispered into you, your body stopping in recognition. It hums warmth through your skin the closer he moves.

“Mr. Miller, quite the boogeyman. Was expecting someone a little… younger.”

“They don’t call me all the things they do for nothin’, pumpkin.” He smirks proud through his witty remark and throws his eyes down your body. “And what are you?”

“I’m too old to trick-or-treat Joel. So door patrol, that’s what I am.”

“If you’re too old,” he mocks, stomping his feet closer, “Then what am I? ‘Nough of that, where’s your Dad?”

“Out.”

“Oh, don’t be like that sweetheart. I brought you a gift, but I guess you’re too old now to want somethin’ sweet. Good girl, really. You get too much sweet n’ it starts rottin’ your teeth. Too pretty for that, aren’t ya?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions.” He liked that you talked back.

His teasing wasn’t new. The way your body reacted to it wasn’t new. The way his eyes darkened the closer they drifted to your core, wasn’t either.

“Well I’ll leave him your message for when he gets back. You’re holding up the line.” You motion to the tiny humans behind him.

“You’re a lil’ piece of heaven, you know that?” He crooks his head to the left, looking for traces of his words through your body.

You knew you wanted to be a part of his heaven, even if you were just allotted a little tiny space in some forgotten corner.

“Tell you what. You give these good and patient kids their candy and then you walk back into that door and I’ll follow. You won’t ask questions, you’ll do as I say and you’ll do it with your mouth shut.”

He’s been hunting you for weeks now. It’s funny how on the first truly crisp day of October, on Halloween, is when he decides that he’s had enough of it. He’s hungry.

So you do as he says, giving the children their candy while he stands behind you. You can feel his presence.

“Happy Halloween!” You close the door before anyone else comes up. Before time runs out and you’re no longer alone.

Joel isn’t a patient man, either. Never has been.

“Wanna show me how well that pussy stretches?” He asked as if it was a question rather than a demand. “I’ll be gentle if ya listen. How bout this, tonight you can be my little play thing. Would that make you feel better? Feel like you aren’t missin’ out?”

His fingers were already melting into the fat of your hips, turning you around and promptly folding you over the couch.

He aligned his hips with your ass, pressing himself into you as he pushed you harder into the couch. He was so big, overpowering. It felt good to melt below him. Safe.

“Need me to show you what you can take, little mouse?”

You would love to find out how he likes it, how arched he wants you, if he wants your hips titled this or that way, which way feels better for his cock. How he holds your shoulders, hand sprawled against your naked back, one leg on the couch and the other holding you up, filling you over and over and over again as he presses you into your own wetness coating the couch from screaming releases.

He’s purring obscenities in your ear.

“Knew you’d take me well. We fit so good together. Wanna see myself right,” he grabs your wrist, positioned above your head and against the couch to stop him from breaking it every time he enters you again, and moves it to where your stomach and mound meet, “here. Wanna see it bulge whenever I hit our favorite spot.”

Masterlist

[lesinquietes]

I once wrote this longfic about Yandere!Professor!Levi who works out of a university and agrees to take you on as his teaching assistant in the first year of your grad degree…… and guys, the brainrot is back 🥺

Tw; coercion, degradation, dominant levi, dubcon (just a sprinkle), oral sex (levi receiving), slut-shaming, spanking

He remembers how much completing a master’s degree sucks. Rewarding? A little. But mostly just a waste of time keeping to the institution’s expectations of excellence. Originally, he only applied to see if he would get one of the scholarships they offered to the poor folk. He didn’t anticipate gaining entry to the program.

Fast forward to eight years later, and he’s cozy in his teaching position. The headmaster is his best friend, Erwin Smith. Life is good. He doesn’t have to teach much with the team of graduate assistants he has each semester. He lets them conduct seminars on course material to get “teaching experience”. As if that’ll help them find a job afterwards.

Although everything seems to have fallen into place for him, there’s still something missing. A void. A yearning. For what, he doesn’t know; that is, until you came along. You make him realize that life isn’t meant to be easy.

For every class he teaches, he receives at least one teaching assistant. Oftentimes, the flock he gets are new graduate students who don’t know their hand from their foot. They’re so nervous in their new role, that they cause more havoc than they’re worth. As such, he’s learned to be a hard ass. It turns out tough love works better than coddling.

But you.

You don’t respond well to either.

And it pisses him off how you’re not predictable. Growing up in the slums made his ability to read situations damn near immaculately. To some degree, he should be able to predict most common behaviours. He’s utterly confused when you don’t respond to reward or punishment. What kind of person are you? The fascination takes him faster than the alcohol did after Farlan and Isabel died in that car accident. Unlike the liquor, he lets his attraction for you bloom.

He treats you like an academic study. He writes down his hypotheses and then conducts an experiment to record data. He documents every method he tries, hoping to make a breakthrough, all while skirting under your radar; the subject can’t know her role in his field research.

Initially, he’s hard on you. He discovered a marking error on one of his students’ returned papers. Usually he doesn’t bother to check his teaching assistant’s work. With you, he’s been putting in overtime.

“The fuck is this?” He growled, tossing the paper onto your desk.

“What?”

You took the sheet onto your hands and scanned the lines with careful orbs. When you reached the bottom, you locked eyes with him. He doesn’t utter a word. You’re bright enough to understand the implicit message.

“I made a mistake,” you state. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful.”

You always act so diplomatic with him. He wishes you would let your guard down. You speak to your colleagues with less of an edge to your tone.

“I thought a master’s student would be able to handle bachelor’s level shit.” He antagonized you. “If you fuck up again I’ll scrap your contract for next semester.”

It’s a bluff. He won’t do that. He doesn’t want anyone else getting you as a teaching assistant, least of all that creep Miche. You’re too alluringly odd. Levi wants to lay claim to you.

“It won’t happen again,” you called after him. “Sorry.”

A lightbulb goes off in his head. His vivid memory of your nonchalance gave him a bright idea. You don’t mean your apologies because you don’t care. Truly.

Of course you haven’t been responsive to his rearing techniques; you aren’t interested in what he’s offering. He hasn’t been using the correct rewards and punishments. You’re in this teaching assistant position against your will; you needed to take it on so you could afford to pay your tuition. He bets you’re dying for stimulation.

With this in mind, he sends you an email, requesting your presence in his office tomorrow morning. If you want something to captivate your picky mind, he’s going to give it to you.

He can’t believe his eyes when you actually obey his request to bend over his desk. Your skirt hikes up, revealing your cute panties. They’re white. The way they don’t fit around the cheeks of your ass makes his cock twitch in his pants. The notion that you planned this crosses his mind. He dismisses it in favour of indulging.

Levi smacks his ruler against your ass, revelling in how your holes twitch each time he strikes. You respond well to this punishment. You moan and gasp when he goes harder, panting breathily like a desperate whore. He’s never seen so much life in your face. He only stops hitting your plump globes when the skin feels tender and worn beneath his palm; even then, he gives them one more clap before standing up to tug down his trousers.

You suck his cock next. Who knew you were such a champ at giving head? He helps you along with a firm hand glued to the back of your skull. You choke and slobber when his rip slams into the back of your throat. He doesn’t let up. Tears are streaming down your face until he decides it’s time you worship his balls. He shoves your nose and mouth into his sack, shuddering when he feels your tongue lavish each sphere with your love. It’s almost enough to make him cum.

He can’t take much more of your teasing. He forces himself down your throat a second time and shoots his load. You cough and sputter, but he doesn’t let you off. You’ll only have the privilege of air when you swallow. Once you do, he’s happy to permit you to breathe.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and tilts your head up. His steely orbs are filled with wanton lust. Your makeup is smeared and your eyes are glossy. You’re in a daze. This is what you wanted all along; to be used by your professor.

Well, if that’s what it’ll take for you to maintain an interest in grading for his class, he’s happy to do it; the next time you need some proctoring, he’ll be sure to claim that wet pussy of yours.

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

Hi! 🤗

Can you write something with Sirius where he has a daughter but she treats him coldly because when he went to Azkaban, her mother became depressed and throughout her growing up she had to watch her barely hold on, and pretends that everything is fine. and now he is trying to improve the relationship and it seems she is starting to open up but then a battle takes place in the department of mysteries. Sirius survives but his daughter is seriously wounded and she is sent to the hospital, meanwhile the world finds out that Voldemort has returned, and Sirius is finally found innocent, but everything What worries him is that his little girl is okay and he spends the day by her bedside and when she wakes up she calls him dad for the first time.

I'm sorry if it's too long

You can ignore it if you want to

Sorry to bother you

Love you 💜

Bye 👋

ahhhh, a good ol’ dad!sirius and daughter!reader…. takes a long drag of my cigarette a classic. if dad!sirius has no lovers then i am dead, especially if there’s a little angst involved

It’s hard to explain exactly why you dislike Sirius so much, but the resentment is most certainly there. Even the sight of him is irritating. Every time you see him you’re reminded of the days you spent trying to coax your mother out of bed, the evenings you attempted to clean the house because your mother was getting bad again and couldn’t do it herself, and all those nights you went to bed hungry because your mother was too physically and emotionally exhausted to cook dinner or go to the store.

Logically, you know it isn’t all his fault that your mother fell to pieces the way she did. She didn’t just lose her husband and the father of her child during the war, she lost several friends and her parents as well. And yet you can’t help but wonder how differently things could’ve been if he hadn’t gone after Peter that night. Even if your mother was still a mess, at least you would’ve had a father to try and pick up the pieces.

Living at Grimmauld Place was uncomfortable, to say the least. It was a lot of Sirius trying to converse with you, and a lot of you either ignoring him or answering with short and concise sentences.

It’s not that you want to be rude to him; it just feels uncomfortable to act otherwise. He’s practically a stranger that’s shown up out of nowhere and started trying to parent you.

It makes you wonder how Harry is so easily accepting of it. He connected with Sirius so quickly, and he even goes to him for advice over any inconvenience.

It’s mind boggling.

Sirius writes you once every couple of weeks, but you’ve yet to respond to any of his letters. You’ve read all of them, and you’ve even sat down and tried to write a response a few different times, but the words never came to you.

It feels impossible to make nice with a man who abandoned you when you were at your most vulnerable. Why should you bother to put any effort into Sirius when he’d never done a single thing for you throughout your entire life?

There were countless times you’d wished for your father’s help or guidance, but he wasn’t there to give it to you. He chose revenge over his family, and your entire family had to pay a price for his decision.

You think of your resentment for Sirius as you run around the Department of Mysteries. You wonder why you came rushed here with the others after learning that he may be in trouble.

There’s certainly no logic to it. There’s no rational reason why you’d risk expulsion (or worse) for a man whom you don’t even like. Father or not, you only met this man last year, and now you may die for him.

And the worst part?

Harry was wrong, and Sirius wasn’t in any trouble at all. So you won’t be dying for Sirius, or for any good reason at all for that matter.

You aren’t sure why, but as you narrowly avoid the heavy, crashing shelves holding hundreds of fortunes, you have more thoughts of your dad. You wonder if the Order has yet been made aware of your predicament.

You wonder how your dad will react to your death.

You run slowly behind Ginny, who has broken her ankle and needs to be assisted by Ron. You turn your head to make sure you're not being followed, and before you're able to react, you're hit with a knockback jinx.

You're sent flying backward into a wall; your vision blurs as your head makes contact with the cement.

Your head hurts, but you're pleasantly surprised with how comfortable you feel otherwise. Your hand feels warm, and as you open your eyes, you find it's being held between your father's hands.

He's quick to notice your awakening, and he leans in as he speaks, "(Y/n)! Merlin, how do you feel?"

Your mouth feels dry, your head fuzzy, and your vision very unclear. As he leans closer to get a better look at you, you turn your face away, scrunch your nose, and quietly mumble something along the lines of "Ew, dad. Your breath stinks..."

The bright light of the hospital room hurts your head. Squeezing your eyes shut, you don't see the relieved smile crossing Sirius's face. It's no surprise he smells bad; he hasn't left your side in three days.

And... you called him 'dad'. Not 'Sir', or 'Old man', or 'Sirius', but 'Dad'. He squeezes your hand and responds with happy, mild sarcasm, "Terribly sorry, dear. Are you in any pain?"

"My head hurts-" You pause mid-sentence, reality finally hitting you of where you are at the moment. You assumedly at St. Mungos, and Sirius is here with you. Despite the pain, you widen your eyes and stare up at him. "You shouldn't be here!"

He lazily waves you off, "It's fine, please don't waste your breath worrying over me."

You interrupt him, the pain getting worse in your head as you try to sit up. "Is it?! You being chucked back into prison wouldn't be 'fine'!"

Not wanting to overwhelm you with too much information, Sirius speaks calmly but firmly. "(Y/n), everything's alright. It's all been worked out; I promise you I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

You're not completely convinced, but you make no further arguments. Sirius places a hand on your shoulder and gently nudges you to lie back down. Sensing your worry, he repeats himself, "I'm not going anywhere. Everything and everyone are fine; you need to rest."

At Sirius's mention of 'everyone', you remember once more of everything that happened. You open your mouth to argue, and you start to push against your father's hand, but he remains firm. "(Y/n), lie down. Once more, everyone and everything is alright. I promise."

You lie back down, the throbbing in your head worsening with each new thought. You aren't sure if it's the pain or not, but you don't bother to question Sirius any further. If he says things are fine, then they're probably fine.

You use your hand to shield your eyes from the harsh lighting of the room, and you hear Sirius speak quietly, "I'm so relieved you're awake, (Y/n)."

Keeping your eyes shut and voice small, you rid yourself of your emotional guard and decide to be truthful. "...I was scared you were going to die."

"I was scared you were going to die," Sirius retorts calmly, "But I suppose now isn't the time to lecture you on the importance of safety. There will be plenty of time for us to talk later, for now, just rest."

You nod, feeling a bit like a little kid, and swallow the lump in your throat, "Okay, dad."

[quintessencewrites]

Desire

Shuri x stripper! reader

"Ladies and Gents, we got a treat for yall tonight! So much cake, it'll make you want to lick the icing first."

"Please help me in welcoming Desire to the stage!"

Warnings: 18+, implied smut, nudity, fluff, explicit language, stripping, illicit drug use, lap dances, etc.

Word Count: 3.2k+

Tags: @lunax0654 @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @doms-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @zestgodtj @themageking @becauseimswagman1 @k3nn3dyxo @dayjlovesromance @778ij @rxcently @widowmakker

Special Thanks to @letitias-fav for choosing y’all’s stripper name and effectively choosing the title as well 🫶🏾 thanks babes🤍🤍🤍

A/N: This was supposed to be a short and sweet little one-shot, but I got carried away and it ended up over 3,000 words long. You guys are gonna love this one, I just know it. I'm in love with it myself; I'm so freaking proud of the work I did on this story <3

A/N 2: NOT a part of my ShuRiri x Sade series. That returns this Thursday, 1/5/23 <3

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The clock on the wall is torturing me, its hands moving so slowly, I’m sure they aren’t even moving at all. I’m counting down; only 30 minutes left until I can clock out.

“Y’know, staring at that thang won’t make time go no faster, chile.” My eyes almost peek at the back of my eyelids, but I suppress the eye roll. Mr. Ellis doesn’t deserve that; he isn’t the target of my frustrations. “Here, now. Table 7’s food is up.”

“Table 7? I don’t have table 7, Mr. Ellis. Where’s Christine?”

My eyes peel away from the clock when my question is met with silence. The older gentleman points his head in the direction of the office that sits tucked away in the back of the kitchen. “She’s not feeling good again. Poor thing, pregnancy is taking a toll on her.”

My heart aches for the girl, 8 months pregnant and planning to work til the end. She’s exhausted, often sleeping in the cramped room for her entire shift. I reach for the aromatic trays, more than willing to cover for the waddling woman.

“She shouldn’t have to work.”

“You gon’ pay her bills, y/n?” the old man retorts. “If it was left up to me, you wouldn’t be working either. This job, or that other one.” The end of his sentence slithers off his tongue in disgust.

The sigh that releases from me is impatient. I didn’t feel like having this conversation with him again. The father-like figure made it clear how much he despised the work I do, often telling me “You gonna slide down that pole right on down to hell.”

“College don’t pay for itself, Mr. Ellis.” A deep ‘mm’ is all I get in return before I’m shooed into the dining room to deliver meals.

“Table 7… table 7,” I mumble, leaving the familiarity of my section of the restaurant to enter the unfamiliarity of Christine’s.

Table 7 sits in the center of the room, and it is surrounded by gorgeous women. They cause me to stumble over my feet a bit, but thankfully, the food doesn’t go down. At the heart of the group, is a girl whose eyes refuse to look away as I walk toward them. It causes my cheeks to go red and my gaze to fall.

“Hey everyone. Christine is taking a quick break, so I’ll be your server. My name is y/n.”

“Y/n? I’ve never heard that name before. It’s lovely.” the one whose intent look I couldn’t escape spoke. Her accent was thick and heavy, yet her voice was light and pulled me in.

The blush in my cheeks has for sure crept to the tips of my ears now. “Tha-thank you. Alright now, y’all gonna have to help me out some. I didn’t take y’all’s orders, so I don’t know who has what.”

The dark-skinned beauty to my left opened her mouth first. “I had the grilled salmon.” With a swift nod, I slid the hot plate in front of her. “The vegetarian meal belongs to me,” expressed the one on my right.

“That must leave you with the pork tacos?” I question, placing the plate in front of the girl with the dense vernacular. She nods with the corner of her lip between her rows of teeth. “Though, I’m suddenly feeling like cake,” she whispers when I reach across her to deliver her food, eyes clearly no longer on my face.

The boldness in her words separates my lips and almost buck my knees from under me. “Um, I-ha,” a nervous giggle escapes me and I take a small step back. A quick ‘ahem’ clears the shock from my throat. “If you ladies need anything else, don’t be afraid to ask,” I ramble off before beelining back to the kitchen.

“Girl, don’t you bust through them doors like that. Scaring my old soul”

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Ellis.”

Christine is standing next to the aged man, silently munching on saltines. “I took Table 7 for you, Chris.”

“Table 7? Oh, the group of girls? Y/n, aren’t they gorgeous?” she’s practically sighing.

“Yeah, intimidatingly so,” I allow the eye roll to follow through this time and glance up at the clock. 7:50. Ten more minutes.

“You don’t get tired, y/n? Leaving one job to go straight to the next?”

My hands reach up, capturing my curls and piling them atop my head in a bun before I answer. “Yeah, Chris, I’m worn out as hell-”

“Watch that mouth in front of me, chile.”

I wince, knowing better. “Sorry, Mr. Ellis. I’m tired as heck. But if I sit around too long thinking about how tired I am, I won’t get anything done.”

“I feel you. Do you mind checking to make sure table 7 doesn’t need anything else before you go? I’ll give you whatever tips they leave,” Baby mama asks with a mouthful of dry crackers.

I really don’t want to, but I’m motivated by the money. “Sure,” I offer, retying my apron and pushing the swinging door open.

I barely make it across the restaurant before the stranger’s eyes meet mine. A grin stretches her face as I approach. “What can we do for you, y/n?” she drawls, eyes glimmering.

I return the smile, genuinely intrigued by what about me has caught her eye so. “I’m just checking on everyone before I clock out. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Her brows furrow. “You’re leaving? Wait, let us show our appreciation for your service before you go.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” I vocalize once I notice all three women reaching into their wallets.

“Well, we’re going to,” the recipient of the vegetarian dinner states matter-of-factly. My mouth is closed, fingers playing with my rings nervously, not sure how to accept such open generosity. I wasn’t used to having to do so on this job. Here, people were supposed to leave their tips and be long gone by the time I went to retrieve them.

One by one, wads of cash are folded into my hand. The last girl’s hand lingers a bit longer. “Thank you,” she whispers to me. “You’re welcome,” my voice returns at the same volume.

“Have a good night, y/n. I hope to see you again.”

“Ye-yeah, yeah. You as well.” I trek back to Christine and Mr. Ellis and without counting the money first, I place half of the bills into her pocket before grabbing my belongings and rushing to the back door. I was going to be late. “I’ll see y’all tomorrow,” I call as the door shuts.

Thankfully, the car ride isn’t a long one. In ten minutes, I pull up to Missus, rushing in. “You’re late,” the DJ calls out to me from the sound booth. “No shit,” I yell back, running to the dressing rooms.

“You’re late,” Indigo echoes when I reach my locker.

“Why doesn’t anyone start a conversation with ‘hello’ anymore?”

“Bitch, because you are late. What took you so long? I had to convince mama to not take you off for tonight.”

I place a grateful kiss on my best friend’s cheek. “And I appreciate that. I’m only ten minutes late though.”

House mama peeks her head into the room. “Glad you could join us, y/n.”

My turn toward her is slow and I’m hoping my innocent smile can wipe away her pissed-off expression. “Hey, mama…”

“Don’t ‘hey, mama’ me. I warned you that you may be trying to juggle too much-”

I didn’t feel like hearing this lecture either. “I’m not mama, give me ten minutes. I’ll do a double-set to make up for it.”

With pursed lips and worried eyes, Mama walks away, leaving just me and Indigo. I reach into my locker and grab the first fabric my fingers brush across. I don’t have time to be picky, slightly dissatisfied with the black piece I’ve picked up. It’s a bit more revealing than what I usually chose to wear, despite the job title I held.

The one-piece had no straps, just a thick band covering my nipples but leaving my areolas for the people to see. The part that donned between my legs covered my second pair of lips well enough, though the thin string betwixt my cheeks left nothing to the imagination.

I reach down to my bag, searching for the clear stilettos I wore with almost every set, and became frantic when I couldn’t find them. “Ugh, Indi, can I borrow your black shoes?”

“The strappy ones?”

“I’d prefer the non-strappy ones.”

“Too bad. Those are currently on my feet. You’re getting the strappy ones. They’ll look delicious on you, with that outfit. I’ll help you lace them.”

The eye roll makes an encore but I don’t protest. I don’t have time to. Sitting on the furry pink bench, I allow Indigo to slide the shoes on and tie the strings up my thigh. I attempt to stand, but stumble at the unexpected height. Indi is much shorter than me and sports a whopping 10-inch shoe compared to my 6-inch ones.

“Damn, girl, I’m gonna break my neck.”

“Nope,” she pops the p in the word. “You’re gonna step on theirs. Get out there, shake that fat ass.”

I hear the DJ’s booming voice before I even declare myself ready. “Ladies and Gents, we got a treat for yall tonight. So much cake, it’ll make you want to lick the icing first.”

“Ew, what a disgusting way to put it.”

Indigo smacks her lips. “He’s not wrong,” she states, eyes not moving from your backside.

“Please, help me in welcoming Desire to the stage!”

A deafening remix of Birthday Cake by Rihanna roars through the speakers, and I have to practically run to the stage to make it to my cue.

It’s not even my birthday, but he wanna lick the icing off

One foot in front of the other, the strut of my walk and sway of my hips brings me to the pole center stage. The lights are blinding, I can barely see. I give the DJ a quick signal to turn them down a bit and when the strobes dim I can see the audience gaping at me.

With the pole behind me and both my hands on it while I face the crowd, my entire body is on display, just how they like it. My head dips, my curly mane falling over my face before I swing it back up.

It’s so exciting, don’t try to hide it, I’mma make you my bitch

My eyes catch hers on their way up. She’s here, sitting front row, ogling my almost naked body.

The girl from the restaurant. Her intense eyes are burning heat in my body, sending it upward to my face. Her confidence from earlier has been waived and a sweet shyness falls upon her. My routine doesn’t falter, it can’t falter, yet my mind is far away. When my thick thighs bring me closer to the end of the stage, I get a really good look at her.

Her jaw is so well-defined, it must have been chiseled from marble. The spirals hang from her head to cover her face ever so slightly, though the shaved sides keep her features open. Her eyes are so dark, they appear black instead of brown and right now, they’re set hard, focused on my figure.

She’s surrounded by the same women who accompanied her at the restaurant moments ago and they too can’t help but be entranced by me. My mind is telling me to take advantage of this opportunity, to get close, and I give in to the thoughts.

My legs sweep over the edge of the stage, and I climb down, not having to hop far due to the insane height of Indigo’s shoes. Her stare should be deemed rude, but I’m eating it up. I sway to her lap and make it my seat, straddling her thin waist. Throwing my head to the side, I allow my hair to mask my mouth, not wanting anyone to read our conversation.

“It’s nice to see you again,” I whisper, lips brushing her ear and the girl inhales deeply but doesn’t speak. “You know my real name. That’s a problem here. I think I ought to know yours.”

“Sh-Sh-Shuri,” she stutters out. Lifting to my feet, I walk back to the stage and finish my set in a split on the cold floor, giving Shuri an eyeful. Her orbs grow, almost bugging out of her head, and with a sly smile, I leave, returning to Indigo who’s still in the dressing room, now lighting a tightly wrapped blunt.

“I will never understand how your confidence shifts when you’re on stage versus when you’re not,” she says through the smoke.

“It’s a talent,” I shrug, taking the seat next to her. “Pass.”

She hands the joint over, and I take a deep drag, eyes shut with my mind still on Shuri. The odds that she was here right now were second to none. “What you thinking bout?” Indigo asks, reaching over to pluck the blunt from my fingers.

“There’s this girl out there. She was at the restaurant tonight too, flirting hard as hell, but here, I seem to have her speechless.”

Indi’s head lifts from the headrest momentarily. “Is she fine?”

“She looks like a greek god.”

My friend sucks her teeth in response. “You always get the good-looking ones. You wanna share?”

“Nah, one look at you and she won’t want me anymore,” I reply, eyes closing again.

“Shut up,” Indigo retorts. At the same moment, mama walks in. “Good set, Desire. You still owe me an extra one, but right now, you’ve got a private dance. Room 7.”

With a quick nod, I stand to my feet. I already have a feeling as to who it is and I’m unsurprised when I enter room 7 and see Shuri already seated on the couch at the back of the room. She stands when she notices my presence and it catches me off guard.

“Sit. You actually need to be sitting for this, at least in order for me to do my job correctly.”

My voice seems to have her hushed, but she sits as told. “I, um. You don’t have to dance for me. I just wanted your time. I’ll pay, of course, more than what you’re asking, but something about you all night has just been captivating.”

Captivating comes out breathy and I’m at a loss for words at hers. “You wanna pay me to spend time with you?

She’s nervous when her head bobs with her bottom lip pulled into her mouth, biting hard. “If that’s okay, of course,” she stumbles. “I-I don’t want to insult your work, the taste I got out there was pretty fantastic, but something is calling me to just get to know you.”

There’s a heat in my cheeks and a fury in my stomach. “Yeah, yeah, Shuri. We can talk.”

I sit next to the nervous girl and face her. She’s really cute when she’s fumbling around like this. And she’s fumbling over me. Shuri speaks first, “So you work as a stri-a dancer? And a waitress?”

“You don’t have to be afraid to say stripper. That’s what I am. Yeah, I work both. Waitress from 3 pm to 8 pm, stripping from 8:15 pm to 3 am. Class in between.”

Her eyebrows crinkle as her face frowns. “Class? So you’re a student?”

“Mhm. I go to NYU.”

“What is your major?” she rattles off.

“African-American Studies. Minoring in Dramatic Writing.”

Those eyebrows jump back to the top at her face, impressed, but they return to their scowl.

“How are you managing two jobs and being a full-time college student,” she asks, clearly concerned.

I allow myself to shrug. “I’m dedicated to it.”

“You definitely are.”

Shuri’s hand reaches across the couch, inching towards mine, but too nervous to grab hold.

I beat her to the action, placing her hand in my own and scooting closer. “Do I get to ask you questions now?”

A grimace passes over her face so quickly, I think I imagine it. “I suppose so.”

“Your accent tells me you’re not from New York. Somewhere in Africa, I’m guessing?” She nods a confirmation. “Where?”

“Wakanda,” she returns, and suddenly I put two and two together.

With a quick release of her hand, I jump to my feet, forgetting the death traps I was standing on. My ankle rolls underneath me and my body descends, but just as I’m expecting it to come in contact with the hard floor, I instead feel an arm wrap around my waist, steadying my fall.

When I look up at my rescuer, I’m utterly speechless. “You’re Princess Shuri,” I whisper-shout. Shuri’s eyes aren’t on mine, instead trained on something a bit lower that’s got her mouth opening and closing and tripping over her words.

Meeting her gaze, I notice my breasts exposed, the fabric of my leotard having shifted during my tumble. Hurriedly, I pull the black band back down, arms quick to cross my chest. “Shit, Your Majesty, I’m so, so sorry. This is so indecent,” I glance around, desperately searching for something to use as a cover-up.

Shuri picks up on my actions, unbuttoning and removing her blazer and placing it around my naked body. “No, no it is okay. Please, drop the ‘your majesty’. You called me Shuri before.”

“That was before I realized I was talking to royalty. I’m so sorry."

The Princess's eyes were desperate, begging me to return things to how they were before. I look around before sitting on the couch again.

“You sure just Shuri is okay? I don’t want to be rude…”

She drops to her knees in front of me and takes my feet in her hands, beginning to unlace the damned shoes from them.

“Just Shuri was okay before; it’s more than okay now.”

Her words sink in. “Okay, Shuri. Why are you in New York?”

A small smile returns to her pretty face. “Just some business with the Avengers.”

Wow, I really had the Princess of Wakanda, the Black Panther, a freaking Avenger, seated at my feet instead of me bowing at hers. Once she’s removed the footwear, Shuri takes my sore and bruised foot in her hand and begins to dig her digits into them. “I hope I am not being too forward. I hate seeing anyone in pain.”

“No worries,” is the last thing that leaves my mouth before she interrupts me again.

“Desire is a fitting name for you.”

“What? Why do you say that?” I’m interested in her words.

“You have this energy surrounding you. It’s been pulling me in all night. I barely even know you, yet I’m craving you. I desire you.”

“Oh,” I gasp, flattered beyond belief. My stomach is turning, my attraction for the royal at its peak.

“Well, I-I didn’t choose the name. Indigo chose it for me.”

“Indigo? Do you have a girlfriend?” Her hands drop, ready to friendzone herself before I even answer.

“No, God, no,” I laugh at the idea. “Indigo is another dancer here. She’s my best friend.”

She grins like a Cheshire cat. “Good.”

“Good?” I ask. “Why good?”

“Because I don’t want to have to compete with someone for your heart.”

“My heart?” her words are hypnotizing, pulling me in and holding me tight. “You want my heart?”

“No, y/n. I desire it.”

Masterlist

[world0fmadness]

DIRTY NEW YORKER

niko bellic x reader

♡ general dating headcanons for niko!

୨୧ started replaying grand theft auto iv a couple days ago and love him so so much :( reader is slightly referenced to have big boobs but it’s not a major thing at all

♡ view my video game masterlist here

reading music recommendations: dirty new yorker by mobb deep - i hear footsteps by statik selektah - windowlicker by aphex twin

♡ niko can be kind of cheap when it comes to dates and such…

୨୧ he doesn’t mean to be, it’s just that he’s not a super fancy person! he didn’t grow up with money, he’s not very knowledgeable on princess treatment and what not

♡ but he really tries his best to treat you as well as he knows how to!

୨୧ wether it be taking you to a bar to grab some drinks together which he pays for, bringing you flowers when picking you up in his car

♡ speaking of which, when you’re in his car is when you get ULTIMATE princess treatment, you’re his passenger princess

୨୧ you wanna play one your CDs or switch the radio station to one of your favourites? go for it, he won’t bat an eye, he might even bob his head to the music

♡ you want the windows rolled up so that the rushing wind doesn’t ruin your hair, even on a hot day? okay… it’s fine by him <3 have them rolled all the way up

୨୧ he’s already kind of a reckless driver but when you’re in the car sometimes he’ll speed up when approaching bumps in the road and side eye you to watch your boobs bounce as he smirks

♡ he loves bouncy boobs, no further comments from me at this time…

୨୧ niko did not introduce you to roman when you guys first started dating!

♡ he thought you’d be overwhelmed by his… unique personality and want out of the relationship with him

୨୧ when he told you this, you were SO confused because like… you’re in a relationship with niko, not roman… why would you care about how his cousin acts?

♡ so eventually you meet roman and he’s nice enough to you ( he makes a point to over enthusiastically tell niko how he “ totally hit the liberty city jackpot ” with you when you’re off grabbing a drink )

୨୧ niko can be pretty damn protective of you!

♡ with the line of work he’s in and the type of people who reside in liberty city, he just knows he has to look out for you

୨୧ if you’re ever catcalled whilst walking beside him, he’s quick to cuss the person out in serbian as you try to pull him along or sometimes egg him on… depending on what mood you’re in

♡ after this happens, he usually fucks you SO hard! either in the back of the car or in bed when you get back to your apartment! you’re his, those pieces of filth should know that, everyone should know that

“ fucking filth… you’re mine aren’t you, Лепа? they could never fuck you like i do… ” ( you can’t even get a word of agreement out with how fast and hard he’s pounding you, he’s almost animalistic )

୨୧ he’s not insecure, he’s just protective and likes people to know you’re spoken for

♡ niko isn’t majorly into PDA but this man will never not be holding your hand as you walk the streets!

୨୧ you like holding his hand anyways, his fingerless gloves keep you warm and if you ever need to be more warmed up he’ll lend you his bomber jacket whilst huffing and grumbling about how he told you to take a damn jacket out with you

♡ when walking the street together, niko is one of those people who walks on the side of the path closest to the road… it’s just instinct for him!

୨୧ i feel like he probably uses way too much cologne

♡ like sometimes you have to cover your nose when you first approach him because it feels like it’s being burned as you inhale the air around him

୨୧ when you tell him to loosen up on the cologne, he’s so personally offended! what? do you not want him to smell good? he literally only puts it on for you!

“ what do you mean too much? i smell nice! you… okay, whatever… too much… ” ( this is the most upset you’ve ever seen him and it’s literally over cologne )

♡ but after a lengthy explanation to him and defending your case, he agrees to go easy on the sprays next time

୨୧ niko keeps a risqué picture of you in his wallet! roman saw it from afar once and started mocking him for being sappy but also asked to see it up close to which niko simply widened his eyes in his direction and yelled at him

“ what? no! you can’t, why would i show you that? leave, go away… ” ( he’s so mad roman saw it at all, let alone him asking to see it better )

♡ when you guys sleep together, it’s rare he ever cuddles you… he just doesn’t really like body heat! it makes him sweat and he hates being sticky and sweaty, so he usually just has an arm thrown over your midriff or your chest and one of his legs tangled with yours under the thin blanket…

[pumpkinmetaphor]

opinions on tamakao? :P (through and through kyokao shipper here but im curious)

I'm a middle school crush Kaoru -> Tamaki truther

Actually, have this snippet from a draft of a fic I wrote and never finished/posted in March 2022

―

“I think,” Kyoya says, “we have things to reconsider.”

Hikaru and Kaoru both look over. They’ve become accustomed to Tamaki’s bouts of depression, dramatic flairs and posturing, but usually they intend to cause it for humorous effect. Today’s episode, causing him to cultivate a woodlouse farm amongst the sheets of piano music in the back cupboard, was entirely unintentional. 

Kaoru doesn’t really feel it’s their fault. Hikaru didn’t mean to spill the coffee, after all. He hadn’t carried a tray before. And the girl he splashed made an awful lot of noise about the bottom hem of her dress being marked by the spillage. If she’d been paying more attention to her surroundings and less to insulting his brother, she would have seen Kaoru pick the pitcher up before he doused her in lemon water. And after all, how else did she expect to clean her dress? And if her friend paid more attention to where she was going instead of trying to grab the front of Kaoru’s uniform, then she would have seen Hikaru’s foot shoot out before he kicked the legs of her chair out from under her. And really, if the girls wanted to be treated like princesses, they surely shouldn’t have picked the hosts whose whole selling point is their mischievous, boyish charm.

That’s what Hikaru said, and Kaoru copied, anyway. Kaoru does a very good job at mimicking Hikaru’s unaffected cadence even as the guilt gnaws away at him. He’s not guilty about the girls, not in the slightest, but he can’t help continually glancing over to the cupboard. This was not behaviour that Tamaki was proud of.

“It wasn’t very nice,” Hani says. He makes the bunny toy do an approximation of an apologetic gesture, which they both cringe at. 

“They were regulars,” Kyoya says, making another note, “Were, being the operative word. They’re unlikely to return.”

“What a loss,” the twins sound, sardonically. Kaoru comes in a beat late and Hikaru gives him a look. 

“So, your sole achievement here has been delivering us a net loss of customers,” Kyoya responds, sharply. “If sabotage is your new USP, you’re welcome to leave. I can personally escort you back to the middle school building.”

Kaoru feels the guilt rise sickly in his throat again. He looks towards the cupboard once more, before looking down at Hikaru’s clenched fist. This is how it’s always going to end with them, after all. They both know that. Kaoru knows he wasn’t the only one lulled into the false sense of security that having friends for once gave them, and it betrays him more to see betrayal written on his mirror image than to feel it on his own face. Hikaru’s eyes flash towards him, and the feeling is mutual. 

“Well, yeah?” Hikaru stands sharply. Kaoru joins, in belated unison. “So what? This is a bore anyway. We’ve better things to do than sit around here and be lectured. We're leaving."

“No, no, no!” Tamaki all but tumbles out of the closet, hands waving. Woodlice are displaced in a frenzy and Hani yelps, covering his plate with his hands. He points, dramatically, at the twins. Hikaru sighs and sits back down, preparing for a sermon. “I simply won’t have it! Mommy, Mommy! Are you going to let them leave??”

Kyoya looks mostly nonplussed, but visibly relents. “I was considering writing them out of the will.”

“And you!” Tamaki jabs Hikaru in the chest before then, for equality’s sake, jabbing Kaoru as well. Both frown and sit, rubbing the forming bruises. “I will not have you two walking out on this family!”

This posturing isn’t uncommon either. The first time he heard Kyoya referred to as “Mommy,” Kaoru watched his brother almost swallow his teeth. Kaoru had a similar reaction the first time Tamaki pinched his cheek and called him his “son.” He seems to be under the impression that the club is a makeshift family, like those off American sitcoms Kaoru and his brother think are inconceivable, obviously some cultural abnormality. They’d been happy just to have a few friends who were, for the most part, worthy of their time. Family hadn’t really been on their radar, and yet they appear to have got it nonetheless.

However, both he and Hikaru make the same face when Tamaki calls them his “sons,” so Kaoru knows it must be for the same reason. Whatever that is.

“No, I won’t have this! I didn’t raise you two to be such ungentlemanly devil children!”

“You didn’t raise us at all,” both retort.

Tamaki continues, unperturbed. “I’ll just have to teach you! We’ll change direction! If you can’t be nice to girls then we’ll have to make use of who you can be nice to!”

Kaoru’s brain immediately goes to the only other gender he can think of on the fly. “Hah?”

There’s a finger flying and pointing in his face. Tamaki looks gleeful, grin spreading from ear to ear. “You can be nice to each other!”

Ah, Kaoru thinks. That makes more sense. 

“Great plan. How does that help us host?” Hikaru asks sardonically. Kaoru second-guesses himself. Actually, this doesn’t make much sense either now that he thinks about it but it makes decidedly more sense to him than flirting with boys. That would make them gay, from what limited knowledge Kaoru has researched on the subject. 

“Ye of little faith,” Tamaki simpers, hand to heart. It’s comical, really. “You have so much to learn about women.” Kaoru is with him there. He’s researched girls even less. “Women like a man who’s in touch with his own emotions. Women especially like men who are in touch with each other’s emotions, if you catch my drift. And the fact that you’re identical– that just means you have an advantage over the competition!”

“The competition of other guys pretending to be gay, you mean,” Hikaru says, drolly, at the same time Kaoru says, “That’s what girls like?” because, really, you learn something new every day. 

Hikaru looks at Kaoru. Kaoru looks at Hikaru. “Hard pass,” they both say, deadpan.

Tamaki tosses his arms in the air and wails, wails, before falling to his knees. This is extra comical, and the two stare at each other, lips pursed as they try to restrain themselves from bursting out laughing. After all, this is a serious subject. It’s a serious request. One that they have no intentions of honouring.

Kyoya clicks his pen. “Tamaki forgot to mention how funny it would be.”

Tamaki stops, mid wail, and gives Kyoya a curious look. The twins stop tittering. Many unspoken words are exchanged through a series of covert glances between people for whom telepathy is genetic and between those for whom it’s contagious.

“On second thoughts,” Tamaki says, tearing his gaze away from Kyoya’s to look back at the twins. He wipes his eyes. “Maybe that’s not a good idea. After all, it would be rather mean to take such advantage of the girls like that. It just wouldn’t be honest. The worst sort of prank really.”

“Prank,” Hikaru and Kaoru repeat, cautiously. 

“Well, yes, I suppose that’s how you could describe it.” Tamaki sighs, dramatically, before shooting them the most obvious look they’ve ever seen. “It would really involve tricking these poor girls. They’re just, hm, too gullible for that. It wouldn’t be nice.”

It’s obvious. It’s painfully obvious. They both lean in further. “Okay. We’re listening.”

“No no, it just wouldn’t be right. I’ll come up with something else. Something so very boring, something that isn’t a fun game at all.” Tamaki turns away, the back of his hand resting wearily against his forehead. He cracks an eye open and looks over his shoulder, instantly giving the act away. 

“Besides,” Kyoya supplies, smiling almost menacingly, “You wouldn’t be able to do it.”

They’re being wound up. They’re being baited. It’s reverse psychology 101. They fall for it, hook, line, and sinker. “What? Yes we could!” Kaoru insists. 

“It couldn’t be that hard,” Hikaru continues.

“Bet we could do it in our sleep,” Kaoru adds. 

Tamaki barks a laugh. “I don’t think we need to hear about what you do in your sleep,” he says slyly, and Kaoru for a sinking moment thinks that he knows before coming to his senses and realising that, unlike Hikaru, Tamaki cannot read his mind and cannot know about the carriages. Which brings Kaoru up at a loss for what he could actually be referring to. 

“It’s not easy,” Hani comments, “You’ll have to keep it up for nearly four years! It’s a toughie to keep an act going that long.” He sounds like he’s talking from experience, and the twins share a look. Perhaps this whole cute shtick is just a creepy cover. Hani proceeds to shovel a forkful of cake at the toy rabbit’s mouth and they determine that no one could be that good at acting. Except maybe themselves.

“We can do it,” they say, in unison. 

“Excellent! Superb!” Tamaki cheers, twirling once before plonking down between them. They were sitting thigh to thigh, so he mostly lands on their laps and both grimace as they’re forced to scooch to make room for him. 

“Now, the first trick is to perfect the physicalities of the move. The context will change depending on the conversation, but the move– the move has to be a signature.” Tamaki snaps his fingers in Hikaru’s face and Hikaru looks like he might bite them if they were any closer. “Watch and learn, my protégé.”

He turns to Kaoru and presses his thumb to the dent of his chin. Kaoru, in turn, swallows hard and goes cross-eyed staring down at the imposing digit. “Eyes up,” Tamaki coaxes, quietly, and Kaoru obeys. “You have to be able to look at each other like there’s no one else in the room.”

Tamaki leans in and, he’s right, there’s no one else in the room. It’s just Tamaki and Kaoru. And Hikaru, of course, but always Hikaru. This close, Kaoru can count every one of his eyelashes if he had the time. They’re blonder up close, and he has three sunspots under the bottom eyelid of one eye. Tamaki’s eyes are so blue, not sea colour so he may drown in them but verging on violet so as they may prove detrimental to his overall health this close. His focus isn’t on lip reading, instead honing in on the cupid’s bow arch of his upper lip, barely moving as he speaks so softly that Kaoru can’t hear it over the blood rushing to his face.

He understands then, with complete clarity, why girls choose Tamaki and choose for him to look at them like this, even with insincerity, every day, time and time again. It’s overwhelming to feel, even momentarily, this entertaining.

The girls have better impulse control and Kaoru’s never wanted anything he couldn’t take. Before he can remember to breathe, he closes the gap between their lips and kisses Tamaki, square on the mouth. 

There’s dead silence. 

Kaoru moves back.

Tamaki looks stunned, speechless for probably the first time in his life. Over his shoulder, the telltale vein is throbbing in Hikaru’s temple and he’s fisting his hand in his uniform trousers. Kaoru doesn’t look around, doesn’t care to see what anyone else’s reaction is. There’s only two people in the room that he cares about, and the sickly, guilty feeling starts threatening to gain legs and crawl its way out of his throat, regurgitate on the floor in front of them as an apology because he’s never had to apologise for anything before in his life and doesn’t know if his mouth is physically able to form the words. 

Tamaki stutters, once. That’s all he has time for before Hikaru reaches around, grabs him by the tie, and yanks him around to kiss him on the mouth too. 

Hikaru pulls back quicker, or at least seemingly so. Kaoru felt like his lips were joined with Tamaki’s for an eternity, but watching it happen in his reflection appears less cinematic, more grade school monkey bars. Tamaki looks like he’s going to short circuit, staring at Hikaru in grey-faced, stunned silence. 

Hani giggles sharply in the background. 

Slowly, Hikaru’s face spreads into an almost menacing grin and, slower, Kaoru’s face lifts to match it. Tamaki’s gaze flits between them, index finger hovering mid-air, halfway between accusatory and revelatory. He sputters, and their faces light up in synchronised entertainment.

“They can’t do that,” Kyoya says. He hasn’t even looked up from his clipboard. “The board will complain.”

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

Imane Khelif anon here: the other boxing organization was World Boxing Organization (WBO).

first, reading back my message i feel i came across a little condescending. i’m sorry if it seemed that way. i’m frustrated with the ioc for their past actions regarding olympic womens sports. i also feel obliged to speak up because of the way womens sports are often treated as the Other Category that takes in anyone who can’t (or won’t) participate in the mens. why don’t we see intersex men or intersex women dominating mens sports? if these athletes truly have no discernable advantage, why aren’t ANY of the top athletes in the mens category intersex male or female like what we see often in womens sports?

in my previous anon i didn’t touch on the few intersex women who do have a Y chromosome; specifically the ones who have Swyer syndrome. that’s because in those cases, the Y chromosome is essentially ignored by the body and the girl would still appear entirely female, with female genitalia, a uterus, and fallopian tubes. girls who have this condition often times don’t even realize they have it because they are literally indistinguishable from perisex girls from the outside. however, they require hormone therapy because they are unable to go through puberty without it. they then go through female puberty and obtain the typical female phenotype, and can even give birth with their uterus via egg donation. the reason why this isn’t believed to be what Imane has is because Imane clearly went through puberty and, like you admitted earlier, appears male enough to be mistaken as a trans woman.

there are some other intersex conditions regarding a Y chromosome, such as CAIS, MAIS, and PAIS, and instead of explaining through anon i’ll link a good article about the differences between these. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih(.)gov/books/NBK1429/

the other point i want to emphasize is intersex conditions are extremely rare in the general population. the ratio is about 1 in 20,000. but in womens sports, that ratio is 7.1 in 1000, which is 140 times higher (Reuters has an article citing these numbers from 2021). but if you look for that ratio in mens sports, there’s no numbers because they aren’t even tested due to the consensus that there is no advantage with these conditions in mens sports.

if Imane somehow does end up being revealed as female, my statements on Imane specifically would be nullified but i believe my other arguments would still stand. if mens sports can be 100% perisex, why can’t womens? that’s not to say that intersex people can’t participate in sports at all. i do support a third category for intersex athletes that don’t fit the criteria for womens sports and don’t wish to play in the mens sports.

that said, i appreciate you listening to me! womens sports are important to us. the safety and dignity of female athletes in contact sports is what i mostly want to highlight in this complex discussion.

Are men's sports completely perisex though? I feel like intersex people either just don't perform well in men's sports and everyone assumes "tough luck, you suck" or they perform perfectly fine. In either case testing doesn't get done. I have never seen or heard of anyone testing a loser's bio sex. If the person fails at their sport then their sex is not called into question, so I can't help but wonder if some of the more lackluster people in men's sports may be intersex after all and cannot perform at a "normal" male level.

I feel like testing is only done in women's sports because a bio male poses a threat to women in a way that is not true in the inverse. If you're a bio female and choose to enter the male league and get the shit beat out of you, that is an entirely different scenario than being a bio male, entering the female league, and then beating the shit out of someone else.

Idk, I just really wonder if there are no intersex people in the men's league or if it's a case of nobody caring if a potentially bio female wants to put herself in that type of situation since it's simply not the same thing as the inverse.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

So here’s a story that’s currently the fourth(?) next WIP on my list rn:

Tanner being part of one of those groups in high school, labeled as a “bad boy” (the type that wears way too much leather for 30°C weather, smokes regularly, and crosses around on a motorbike) but it’s the actual good kind of bad boy and not whatever recent books have been doing. By which I mean he looks mean and acts the part towards people who he doesn’t like, but he’s a perfect sweetheart with golden retriever energy towards everybody else.

Treech, meanwhile, is a Jehova’s Witness whose family is particularly extreme and abusive. He has to appear always happy and perfect because to make the church look good he has to always look like he has the perfect life with the perfect family and the perfect future. The space behind the closed door is full of mental health issues, indoctrination, and several forms of abuse (because cult). Lamina’s family was also part of the church, but they were much more moderate and eventually left and got excommunicated, meaning Treech isn’t even allowed to look at his best friend since forever. It’s very angsty :).

To distract from several big scandals the church of Jehova’s Witnesses plans a big charity event that takes place in the big park in the middle of the city, and Treech has a spot there where he sells wooden stuff that he made and carved. He learned from his grandparents, who were the only people he had a healthy relationship with aside from Lamina. All of the friends he has now are approved by his parents (so terrible and judgmental people who go way too far in their beliefs). When his grandparents died he kept practicing the craft because it’s all he has left of them. At the charity event he makes stuff on the spot and people pay a differing price depending on what they ask him to make. This is where Treech meets Tanner and his friend group properly. It’s everyone that isn’t Treech. They go to the same school but their groups do not like each other since, you know, Tanner’s group “commits sin”. They ask him to make something that goes against the teachings of the church, and he politely declines before asking if they may want something else. When Lamina comes he looks clearly heartbroken, but apologizes and looks away as he’s supposed to do when seeing someone who’s been excommunicated.

Later, Tanner asks Treech to help him with some kind of project. Either Tanner’s part of the theater club in some capacity or it’s for a party or something. Treech agrees after a bit of convincing and with Tanner being Treech’s main point of contact for the project they have a chance to talk. And get closer. Which leads to Treech realizing he may possibly not be as straight as he thought he was. Given the church and his family’s stance on everything that isn’t the nuclear family ideal, this is not a good thing. It gets even worse when Tanner seemingly starts… flirting with him? Possibly?? But Tanner is a sinner and while Treech likes him and won’t treat anybody badly for making their own choices it’s still wrong and all of this is wrong. Yes, Tanner did start flirting with Treech. Far before he notices and has a mini breakdown over it, because Tanner has a thing for pretty boys. And one with a personality that’s compatible with his? Hell yes.

Long story short Treech has a faith crisis and when his friends spot him with Tanner he gets in deep trouble. He ends up getting excommunicated and kicked out by his parents once he confesses he’s had doubts about small things, even though he never told them he’d had doubts about the bigger things as well, and he ends up running to Lamina’s house. They let him in and let him stay there for the time being, which brings us to the recovery part of the story. Treech and Tanner start dating and while Treech is still a christian, he’s no longer in a cult and slowly starts mellowing out as he slowly shakes himself free of the indoctrination. It’s a long road towards unlearning all that he’d been taught, but things finally look up as he rebuilds his life.

BONUS: Tanner loves coffee and he and several of their friends (including Lamina) spend a lot of time trying new coffees or making their favorite ones. Treech tries his first sip of coffee with them after they made him a fancy one that’s beginner-friendly.

[yellowkitkieran]

Two Minutes (Kieran Tierney)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Kieran isn’t very good with words, which leads to you thinking he doesn’t care, which he very much does. Requested by @oh-saints

Kieran is a man of few words. You learned that very early on when you met him. His actions speak louder anyway; what be can't say with his mouth, he'll let you know through his actions. Well, in most cases that is. 

Before you officially started dating, Kieran was an attentive man. He sent you messages after dates to make sure you got home okay and sent you flowers after your first dinner together. Now that you're officially his girlfriend though, something seems to have shifted. You don't hear from him as often. When you do, it's rarely anything substantial, usually only a quick chat about your days before he's yawning and telling you he needs to rest. 

You lay in bed, staring at your phone. For the third night in a row, you wait up for a text that doesn't come. Kieran's been busy with training for the London derby tomorrow and your schedules haven't lined up to let you see each other for what feels like ages. You miss him, plain and simple. You'd do anything to see him for five minutes. But apparently, Kieran doesn't miss you enough to so much as send you a short message before bed.

It isn't too much to ask for. You message him a few times throughout your day, updating him on the monotonous things in your life like your exam scores and the fact that the kitchen on campus ran out of jam and muffins this morning. He's read them but hasn't replied to a single one, and that's getting on your nerves. 

Three dots appear on your screen and you almost think you're hallucinating until a message pops up. 

Hey, sorry I've been so busy. Are you still coming to the match tomorrow?

You want to leave him on read so he knows how you've felt all day. However that's just not something you can do; you'll take any opportunity you can to hear from him, seeing as you're not sure when you'll get the chance again. 

That's my plan! Are you busy now? We could maybe facetime xx

I really need to get to bed… but I'll see you at the stadium?

Kieran's message pulls the plug on your mental sink, draining your excitement in seconds. Can't he spare two minutes so you can lay eyes on him? At this point you're half convinced he wants nothing to do with you and is just stringing you along. 

Oh, yeah of course. Sleep tight Kieran xx

You don't bother waiting for a response when you know it won't come. He's probably already plugged his phone into the charger and put it face down on his nightstand. He's probably put on his white noise machine playing and is cuddled up under his fuzzy white blanket, waiting for sleep to take him.

The irony is, you know Kieran's pre-matchday routine like the back of your hand, but you doubt he could even tell you how you like your eggs. You could make him a full breakfast just the way he likes, with his fruit in a separate bowl from his oatmeal and everything, and he doesn't even know if you like fruit. 

Overall, you can't shake the feeling that Kieran just doesn't care. Is it irrational? Maybe, but if he cared, he'd try and make time for you, wouldn't he? Even just two minutes, that's all you're asking for. Two minutes of his time. Apparently, that's too high of a cost for Kieran to pay.

**********

You suppose the nice part of being a wag is the fact that you don't need to pay for parking. You're allowed to park in the same lot as the players, which is a treat considering you also don't need to wait in a long, winding line to get inside. 

You're early. Like, really early. When you woke up this morning you decided you were going to see Kieran whether he wanted to or not- so here you sit, scrolling through Instagram on your phone while you wait for Kieran to pull in. And he can't miss you either; you made sure to park in his unassigned assigned spot so he can't claim he didn't see you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a gray Audi. Your heart becomes stuck in your throat as it parks next to you. You force yourself to wait until Kieran knocks on your window to roll it down and look up at his smiling face. 

"Hey, I didn't expect to see you here so early. Wow- you went all out today didn't you?"

You bristle, glancing down at your jeans and Arsenal jersey with Kieran's number in the center of your chest. You barely bothered to do your hair and you only put on a minimal amount of makeup. What's he trying to say, that you don't normally put any effort in?

You shake your head, "I wanted to see you before your match today so I could wish you luck. Seeing as you've barely spoken to me all week."

Kieran's face softens and you almost feel guilty. "Right, I'm sorry about that. I've been busy like I said-" 

"Too busy to text me and say goodnight?"

You don't mean to accuse him so directly before an important game. It just tumbles out of you like rocks down a hillside, and you're powerless to stop it. You can't take the words back once they're spoken, despite the fact that Kieran looks like you've slapped him.

Kieran straightens with a sigh. His hand falls off your door and you begin to panic as he walks away, tears pricking your eyes. That's one way to break up with someone you suppose. You rest your head on the wheel, nearly jumping out of your skin when the passenger door opens and Kieran climbs inside. 

"What are you-"

"I'm not going inside until I've spoken to you about this." Okay, maybe you should stop jumping to conclusions, because Kieran looks as close to tears as you are. He takes a breath, reaching across for your hand. After a week of nothing, his touch does wonders to calm your frayed nerves. You feel your panic ebbing away like the tide, soothed by the way his thumb rubs over your knuckles. 

"Look, I'm terrible at communicating. I'm doing my best but clearly I'm not doing enough, because I don't mean to make you feel like this."

"It feels like you don't care anymore." Your voice is a barely recognizable whisper, heavy with months of pent up emotion. Your throat feels raw, though a weight lifts off your shoulders as you finally lay it out for him, "in the beginning you were so in tune with me? Sweet gestures all the time, messages to check in on me… what's changed Kieran? Is it something I did?"

"No, no, my love, you haven't done anything I promise," Kieran murmurs, quick to soothe you. "We started dating during the off season, remember? I had so much more time then than I do now. I realize that isn't an excuse but most days I come home from training and literally head right to bed after I eat. Getting back in the swing of things has been exhausting. And it doesn't help that I really have no idea what I'm doing here. You're the first proper girlfriend I've had."

"Wait… I am?"

Kieran nods, his cheeks red. "Yeah, you are. So I'm doing what I think I'm supposed to but like I said, I have no idea. I'll message you more, okay? I promise you that. And I'll make more of an effort to see you. Actually, take this."

Kieran digs in his pocket and pulls out his key ring, removing a silver key and placing it in your palm. "You can come to mine whenever you want, okay? I wouldn't mind walking in and having you be the first thing I see when I get home."

"This is your house key."

"Uh huh."

"Like, you're giving me a key to your house."

"Aye sweetheart I am. I hope that's alright?"

You stare at the metal in your hand. Suddenly you feel stupid for doubting him when he clearly has perfectly valid reasons for being distant lately. You have trusted Kieran since the day you met and he hasn't given you a reason to doubt him. Your insecurities simply got the best of you this time, but you're determined not to let it happen again. 

"It's perfect Kieran. Just like you." You smile, grabbing the front of Kieran's shirt and pull him to you for a passionate, heavy kiss that certainly isn't appropriate for your surroundings, not when one of his teammates honks when they drive by. You break apart, both laughing as you try to catch your breath. 

"Go get 'em, Key. Score a goal for me."

"Anything you say sweetheart. I'll meet you at home after, yeah?"

"I'll be waiting."

[alexanders-pokemon-adventure]

A little rain in every life must fall

****Trigger warning, themes of depression, suicide and death****

-Professor Abigail Apricot

The six were here. Professor Apricot had not known three of the persons depicted on the five of wands personally but knew of them. Rai( @ranger-rai )and Lynn( @mod-ellisa-and-lynn )are Rangers of note she’d heard of in passing even before Alex knew them and Ellisa… Ellisa( @adventures-on-foster-island )did good work Professor Apricot thought on that island she ran. She appreciated that they dropped everything to come. Apricot hoped that with the six here those Sera had conjured on the cards would make the difference. Derek , Alexandria( @alex-ishvan ), Sera ,Rai , Lynn and Ellisa gathered with her in Alexander’s hospital room. As time was running out.

Pleasantries were surprisingly quick with the assembled group apricot found. They were all friendly but wonted to get to the point of their assembly quickly. Alex was dying she told them , that had not surprised any of them, and they had all been paying attention to Alexander’s condition. What they didn’t know it was Alexander’s Advance Medical Directive was reaching its conclusion. Even with Alexander’s families legal aid in extending the deadline. Alexander’s wishes have been extremely clear.

“In the event of a non-medically induced coma ,I am to be allowed one month to recover if not, life-support is to be removed and my life allowed to end.” Was dictated to us and Alexander’s family. With their help, we had pushed back the deadline almost another month. The hospital was beginning to fight us now. And the truth was we didn’t think we could win another court case to extend the deadline. Not with how Alexander continue to worsen , withering day by day…

Derek was the one to cut in “so it’s now or never there isn’t anything more we can do to prepare there isn’t more research we can draw on the plan we have been preparing for either work or won’t , what we do today is it.”

There was a little protest from Ellisa “ even if whatever we do doesn’t work. What if it has a positivei mpact what if Alex shows improvement after we do whatever you’ve planned .do you think the hospital with an extended deadline again?” She asked

“no” was all apricot, could say coldly for a long moment,” I don’t think anything beyond Alexander waking up will change things. We’ve already extended the deadline significantly beyond Alexander’s wishes. the hospital does have the legal argument that we already significantly defied Alexander’s wishes” Lynn rested, and arm over Ellisa shoulders “ then whatever we do will make sure it work” something like Grimm determination in his voice.

“so what’s the plan?” Rai ask sharing Lynn’s determined tone “ with all of us here I doubt we could fail” a room lighting grin on his face.

So apricot explained that Alexander was a conductor of energies from what she could tell all “living” energies were something Alexander could conduct,refine and utilize in a myriad of ways. But Alexander had foolishly attempted to better understand what was troubling their Castform after the Shadow Storm by taking in some of the same energy that poison them, and ended up here.

Shadow-type energy was formed from trauma and trauma, is something better fought with others. Alexander generally use their gift to take in the power of Pokémon to strengthen themselves or others, but their was a kind of energy humans generated as well entirely unique to the species. Professor Apricot handed each of the gathered assembly a yellow pendant.

“ these are modified EXP shares” Apricot explained “ human beings, generate a type of energy that some Pokémon used to evolve. The EXP share I have given you have been altered to transfer that energy in a way normal human being can’t on their own”

“ friendship ?” Rai asked “ exactly” Apricot answered “ we are working off the idea that the shadow type energy in Alexander’s body works much like trauma, and the best way to treat traumas is with a support network, with love , with “

Alexandria was the one to cut her off “with friendship” she spoke

“Yes but that’s only half ,Sera could you?” Professor Apricot gesturing for Sera to continue the explanation.

“It wont just be us” Sera said “l’m … I’m going to uses us as lightning rods”

“I beg your pardon”Ellisa said incredulously

“I’m sorry not literally, I’m a mystic and I’m going to uses us as beacons to call other to help. Do any of you know what the sympathetic magic is?” She asked . Apricot knew much of the more esoteric aspects of Sera’s abilities went over peoples heads .The lack of an answer from any of the three told her the answer was no.

Sera sighed “ people ,places, objects ,intentions are all connected in a sense. Chords of a guitar resonate with others, like calls to like ,as above so below, etc. etc. We’re all Alexander’s friends. We all want to help Alex , we’re all here.” apricot watched Sara gesture to the crowd.” those qualities and intentions are things I can use to call others with similar intentions those who would want to help and give, whatever strength and power they can , I think with six of us here, seven counting, the professor we’ll cast a large net”

Professor Apricot finished “We think with enough of us will be able to either neutralize, cast out or wake Alex to expel the shadow-type energy killing them themself. We aren’t 100% certain what’s going to happen during the process but it’s the best shot we have” the Professor looked away ,a part of Apricot felt a little ridiculous, explaining their plan. It felt as a wishy-washy as it sounded to her. But it truly was all they had “ are you all ok with our plan, will you help us ?”

When the professor looked up, she did not see the doubtful looks she expected, she saw three determined adults, that had not been deterred.

“ of course we will “ Rai spoke “ When do we begin?” Lynn asked

Something like Hope was beginning to grow in Professor Abigail Apricots chest

“Sera?”

“ on my end, I can be ready in two hours” Sera answered

“ two hours then everyone” Prof Apricot

-Sera Figga

It was her turn Sera thought to herself. Sera was a ESPer , most people generally understood what that was and what it meant even without knowing the scoop of what see could do, apparently it even ran in her father’s side of her family but Few understood her other half . Being a Mystic openly was always a gamble , so many people claimed to be “Mystics” in the age of the internet that such titles were more aesthetics than actual indicators of ability. It didn’t help even before the title became an aesthetic mystics that weren’t religious figures were often feared or looked down on in the past. It made admitting to Ellisa, Lynn , Rai and to a lesser extent Alexandria difficult. It would not have been the first time she had been ridiculed and mocked for suggesting magic as an answer, let alone being real. She had been pleasantly surprised by their nonchalant acceptance, of her part of the plan.

So Sera got to work. Reached into that part of herself that roared in her chest and sang the song of the world. The magic in her she found was not like her psychic powers. The Psionics she wielded were as best as she could describe pliable , easy ,one could even say willing to comply with her at a moments notice, but magic … raged. It almost felt to Sera as if it wasn’t part of her , it needed constant supervision when in use, or would run amok, butt when Sera bore down on it like she did now she did not truly know what her limit would be. Of course, she had reached the bottom of her well of power before, but in application she had yet to find her walls. Sera knew they watch her in silence as she began her working. From the sounds of quiet and gasps she knew they felt it. Sympathetic magic called on connections and similarities and she now use each of those here as the archetypes on which she drew from.

Alexander’s friends /People who cared for Alexander/Those with strength to give to Alexander /Those determined to help Alexander

Like calls to like ,as above so below ,an invitation sent out.

“Sera” Apricot spoke with mild alarm in her voice” are we starting?” She ask Sera

“Yes.” Sera spoke in voice the hummed like a tuning fork. Sera heard a slight shuffling footsteps, and a distinct click. The pendant Professor apricot gave her began to glow. All of the pendants begin to glow and though Sera felt distant as her spell wove into being she knew they all Glowed.

Sera and the assemble group had circled Alexander’s bed . Alex had become so thin and in this room Sera thought that some of the color had been leached from their skin but she couldn’t worry about that now. Power was building in this room. Sera couldn’t tell what the other were experiencing and in truth, she wasn’t certain why they each glow different colors but an almost tangible pressure was forming in the air .She felt them combing before she understood what was happening. The invitation she had sent out was answered ,strength like lightning ran through her from familiar sources, her family. Sera’s sister, and father, and even her mother adding strength to this working, for Alex. By the way, Ellisa and Lynn gripped onto each other how Rai gridded his teeth and the others braced them self she knew something similar was happening to each of them as power built on power. Sera had wondered to herself how much they could each take before they would need to release it.

Professor apricot answered, that question for her “NOW !” Professor apricot screamed”NOW SERA DO IT NOW !!” Apricot was gripping her chest Sera thought she looked like she might explode. More were coming Sera knew it, but doubt if any of them can hold much more so in a final grappling move a part of Sera reached out into the world and leading them all down with her. Into the nothing.

Light. They had become light Sera though . Pure light pouring into Alexander ,in to the vast empty. Though Sera could not sense the others thoughts like she could the last time she ventured into the nothingness that had subsumed Alexander she did feel them . Feel the them and all the stars that race down with them all for Alexander. Sera felt them all become so united in their goal to save them , so ductile to each other that distinctions were becoming meaningless. They were wholly blazing light ,here to cast away the darkness. they were here to bring Alexander home, and nothing would stop them, not the void they plunge through and not the adamant black they shattered through to reach them.

They drifted to the rooftop of the Starlight Tower.

Alexander was where Sera had left them. They were younger here on the ledge of the starlight tower lit by the city skyline. They saw Alexander’s hollow gaze fall on them. Did they recognize us? Did they know we were here to help them? Sara thought before she noticed the shadow was still there ,now standing behind them. The shadow did not attack Sera this time. It only waited behind Alexander and watched. A part of Sera writhed uncomfortably at the knowledge that the others saw what she did here. Alex had always been an intensely private person with such matters, but with how dire things had become she hadn’t see any other opptions. Sera hope the others would use discretion when they brought Alex back. In a voice that was all of them and a thing all it own they spoke

“Alex” they called to them, the sound rolling and reverberating through the place that wasn’t place. Alexander didn’t react “ Alex it’s us “ they spoke again reaching form them. To bring Alex home… but something stopped them. It wasn’t the Shadow it still only stood and watched beside Alexander . What stop them came from inside . Sera found it … odd. Some thing told her ,told them all that if they tried to bring Alexander back themselves it be for nothing. Sara didn’t know what that meant. Only that it was true. Felt it deep in her bones. So is one they reached out their hand again, open and inviting.

”Alex, let’s go home you don’t have to stay here anymore.You’re past this.” Alex didn’t react.

Again they spoke “this place” they just gestured around them “it isn’t real you’re not here anymore. It’s OK take my hand and we’ll go home.” A scared part of Sera remembered what this had felt like in the waking world to find Alexander. Alexander had sent Sera a text that had scared her.

“You’re my best friend in the world Sera. I just wanna make sure you know that.”From Alex.

There have been some thing about her interactions with them the days prior had them running out the door across the city to find them. Sera had never stretched her mind across such a large space before, but she did then. She found themand she saved of them. She saved them before Sara thought, stopping down the fear.

“Alex” they called again. There was a thundering sound that rocked the unreal place they stood in. A loud rhythmic beat shook the world. Alarm rise in all of them, what was happening ,what was that noise? The skyline that had lit this world went out and something like pain ran through all of them. The thundering beat was getting quieter ,the fence that Alex clung to disappeared, the starlight tower was gone. Was it getting darker Sera thought. What is this world coming apart? Whatever was happening none of them thought was good with urgency again they reached out to Alexander”ALEX take our hand!!”. a distinct hiss of laughter wrapped around them as the world grew darker. The shadow laced it fingers around Alexander’s head and laughed.“ Alex, please take our hand and we’ll go.” They were all cut off as Alex’s hollow eyes shut.

Sera was on the floor, she knew her nose was bleeding from the warm wet dribbling, she felt on her face. She was in her real body, all the power that she and other hand amass was gone wear it went she didn’t know .Why they had been shut out,she didn’t know . What was that noise she heard. A distinctive,electronic hum. Then there was Derek’s voice whispering, over and over again and then screaming”no no nO NO NO NO !” What was wrong? Sera thought to herself. She looked and saw…Alex had flatline.