#this isn’t me complaining I find it funny and would be more amused if i wasn’t currently doing bad just like ahdhhffhfj

[whimsyprinx]

word association or some shit

[leth-writes]

Sam, Paul, and Jacob with a fox shifter! Imprint

If anyone would like another part featuring the rest of the pack, let me know!

As a fox shifter, you have a naturally mischievous and playful personality. You love pulling pranks and running through the woods and often enjoy stealing items of clothing of the people you’re close with to remind you of them.

As the adopted cousin of Emily, you’ve naturally been visiting Forks for most of your life. 

Sam

When Sam met your eyes, his world shifted, and his entire perspective changed. Suddenly, being a wolf shifter isn’t so bad. He pulls you aside and introduces himself, immediately asking you out on a date. Of course, you said yes, due to some instinctive feeling you had; it felt like that fox spirit inside of you was tugging to get free.

You bond pretty quickly, aided by your instinctual connection, though neither of you are aware of the other’s… unique abilities

One day, when you show up at his house for a rainy day spent cuddling and watching tv, he’s already standing outside, shirtless and in his cargo shorts as always. The rain is pelting him as you pull up the driveway, and you quickly hop out, rushing to his side.

“What’re you doing? You’ll freeze to death!” you exclaimed, trying to tug him outside.

“I have to show you something, but you need to promise not to freak out…” He started, gently guiding you to the backyard.

He stepped away, then slowly began taking off his cargo shorts.

You covered your eyes in shock, hearing him chuckle before a loud Thump reverberated through the clearing.

You slowly uncovered your eyes, finding yourself staring at a wolf.

Suddenly, it all clicks. He’s a wolf shifter!

You immediately shift as well, barking happily and wagging your fluffy tail.

If you looked shocked, Sam looked like his eyes would fall out of his head, which was quite an amusing expression on a wolf

You have to spend the next couple minutes explaining yourself, once you both shift back.

He tells you about the imprint, and the instinctive feeling is explained. 

You’re both quite content. He enjoys having someone to shift with, especially enjoying long runs through the forest and quiet naps spent with you both shifted and cuddling together.

The others find the dynamic quite cute.

You love cuddling in his sweaters as a fox, which often results in a yelp of surprise when he goes to move something only to find you buried inside.

Very wholesome and protective dynamic 🙂

Paul

Paul is a much stronger personality than the down to earth Sam. You two are probably formally introduced when he shifts into his wolf form and fights with Jacob, right after Bella’s confrontation. You get introduced to the secret and he finds his imprint at the same time, and you’re quick to explain your status as a shifter as well.

He immediately latches onto your relationship with the passion of a burning sun

He can be quite protective and honestly very possessive. Don’t be scared to tell him to fuck off if it gets too much, or maybe complain to Sam or Emily. They’ll talk to him.

It’s made worse because your shifted form is so small; the wolves are often described as ranging from the size of a bear (movies) to the size of an SUV (books), while you’re about the size of a small poodle. It can be quite a funny dynamic, with him being such a hothead and you having such a bright, bubbly, and mischievous personality. It works really well, because that levity works wonders on his more dominant personality, lightening and breaking the tension anytime there’s a fight you’re present for. 

He tries really hard to control his temper more, and definitely starts asking the elders for tips on keeping a healthy relationship. 

Having such a small shifter around means he’s more cautious of his shifting, which in turn leads to better control. Sometimes he has nightmares about hurting you; don’t be afraid to wake him up and shift, purring away in his lap as he runs his hands through your thick fur.

You might need to convince him it’s okay to even be near you, he swings so far into gentle he becomes scared to hold your hand, let alone anything else.

Just be patient, and the passionate core will shine through 🙂

Jacob

Jacob is quite an even mix between Paul’s temper and Sam’s stern demeanor. He can definitely joke around though, so your bright personality is a great contrast to his sometimes pessimistic moments. 

You probably meet at the same time as you would with Paul; during the fight. He’s extra motivated to protect you and Bella, especially knowing his imprint is involved.

Jacob is really convinced he’s some monstrous being you should stay far away from. It’s a good idea to shut that down quite quickly, or it’ll spiral out of control and end with him attempting to put distance between the two of you. Your mischievous side, however, will convince him you can handle being around the shifters. 

I honestly think having a fellow shifter as an imprint is the best case scenario because it convinces Jacob he isn’t some irredeemable monster. Just getting to know you and seeing how you handle your shifts with such grace and respect to your other half is really enlightening for him. Don’t be afraid to challenge him to a race. Just try to get him comfortable in his wolf form around you. It’s really the goal of a healthy relationship with him. A lot of time is spent convincing him he isn’t broken and that you really care about him. Once again, your presence in shifted form can be really soothing, especially when you purr against his chest. He really enjoys it. 

[bloodywickedvamp]

Two's Company - What The Hell Is Six? Part 3

Poly!Lost Boys x GN Reader x Michael

Series Masterlist

Summary: It's date night

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: swearing, touching, angst, arguments, flirting, lil kiss

I really cannot believe it took me so long to finish part 3 like...where did the time go?? It was almost an entire year...I just struggled to find the motivation but I finally did! Not sure if this is even good it's so late when I finished writing lol, hope you enjoy!

Dividers: @saradika & @firefly-graphics

“Okay…I’ll do it.”

“What?” Michael turns towards me and asks bewildered. I can’t blame him, I’m a little shocked by my own acquiescence. 

I tear my gaze from David to Michael and briefly at our fingers laced together before meeting his eyes. 

“I know this isn’t ideal Mikey, but you heard them, they won’t stop. We can talk about this more later, okay? Just trust me.” Squeezing his hand so tight, to help him to understand why I’m doing this. Why I didn’t have a choice other than to accept their ‘offer’. To protect him from whatever they’re truly capable of. If I said no, they’d take it out on Michael, I know they would. 

He takes a moment to respond. Taking me in from top to bottom and squeezing back a non-verbal response before speaking. With more understanding than I initially thought he’d be capable of granting, he nods, brings our hands up to his lips to ghost them over my knuckles and finally lets out a soft 'okay' with a gentle smile only meant for me. I mirror the sweetness in his face back, until the moment is interrupted. 

“Well that’s just adorable.” David snorted, all too eager to have our attention not on each other. 

“But if you’re finished I’d like to get back to the date you just agreed to.” He directed impatiently. 

“Fine, but there are some ground rules we need to establish first.” I said.

“Oh?” questioned David. He seemed amused by my answer, curiosity slipping through at what I could possibly come up with. 

“First, no kissing or inappropriate touching-”

Paul cut me off to complain, “damn babe, those are all my go-to moves.”

Dwayne swiftly takes it upon himself to reprimand the wild blonde with an elbow to the side and a ‘shut up Paul’. While said blonde untangles his arm from the taller man's shoulders to soothe his aching side with a look of exasperation, like he’d been completely put out by the interaction. 

“Ow, I was only kinda kidding. You can’t hit me like that man, you know I'm sensitive.” He croaked out in a very childlike manner accompanied by a pouty bottom lip. I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually got into the fetal position next with how dramatic of a person he seemed to be. In a different circumstance I would’ve found the exchange funny and how close the two are adorable. 

Instead of dwelling, I decided to continue. “Second, we won’t be going anywhere private, we’ll be in public the whole time. Third, no threatening or hurting Michael for any reason. No matter what happens on our ‘date’ you don’t get to do anything to him.” Emphasizing date with a quick eye roll. I may have agreed to this but I don’t have to be happy about it. 

Michael let out a small chuckle from my right before he leaned down to whisper in my ear “My hero.” I try my best to hold back the smile threatening to sneak its way past my serious demeanor but it’s useless and I crack. I can never seem to hold myself back when it comes to Michael, he pulls every part of me to the forefront, good or bad, he always embraces it with open arms and a warm smile. 

“Is that all or do you have any more demands princex?” Marko piped in, once again directing our attention towards the boys in front of us. 

“That’s all for now, but if I think of any more I’ll be sure to let you know promptly.” I finish with faux nicety and the sweetest smile I can muster. 

Pulling a sarcastic laugh from him followed by an even more sarcastic “Can’t wait.” 

It seems Marko and I will be having the most lively time together on our date, if we don’t kill each other first. 

This time, I hear a genuine laugh come from the same curly headed boy. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

I’m baffled at the comment. His joyous response sounded like it was directed at my previous thought, one I definitely thought to myself and didn’t voice aloud. 

“Wait, I didn’t say anything. How-”

Paul decides to answer me first. “We've got all kinds of tricks we can show you baby”, with an additional cheeky grin thrown my way. 

While David finishes with a “but we’ll save that for next time. We’ll meet back here tomorrow night where we usually park the bikes, right after sunset. Don’t be late.” He looks between Michael and I as the quartet begin to make their leave. Each boy giving their own version of a goodbye with waves and ‘catch ya laters’ till they’ve vanished from underneath the boardwalk back towards the stairs. 

“So…we should probably get home and maybe figure out what the hell you just agreed to.” Michael announces after a bout of silence following the departure. 

After Michael drives us back home, he seems to be in a better mood than I expected. He’s acting like his old self again, not letting go of my hand or some part of my body since we arrived. The truth coming out makes him much more at ease, which I can appreciate. The rest of the family noticed his sudden presence at the dinner table with stunned expressions, Sam even commenting ‘what were you dying for moms lasagna or something bud?’ as Lucy shoo’s that off with a wave of her hand and says she’s happy to see everyone together again for dinner with a beaming smile along her face, quickly changing the topic to grandpa’s aversion to giving him an overdue haircut.

Later on, Michael and I found ourselves in the bedroom we share. After a lengthy discussion of the night to come and having to only calm him down a couple of times from leaving to find the boys again and telling them to fuck off, we agree on sticking it out just for tomorrow. After the dates I tell them it won’t work and we can put this mess behind us, hopefully. The matter of Michael being a bloodthirsty creature of the night has yet to be discussed. 

“I still don’t like this plan, just so we’re clear.” He proceeds to tell me one final time as we start to lay down to sleep with a few hours of darkness left cloaking the sky before dawn breaks. 

“We don’t have any other options…unless one of your new special tricks includes time travel to before you met them.” I jokingly tack on as I cuddle further into his side. 

He releases a light chuckle while rubbing my back soothingly. “Sadly no, that’s not in my abilities.” 

“It’ll be okay.” I say, not certain if it’s more for his sake or my own. He silently agrees with a kiss to my forehead and a soft goodnight as we both fall asleep in the comfort of this small window of time we have together. 

Michael and I silently wake up just hours before we would need to leave, having mostly slept the day away together. As dusk quickly approaches, getting ready seemed an easier task than I initially anticipated. He showers after me and dresses in his usual attire of blue jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, and his newly acquired leather jacket that I can’t help but start to like the more I see him in it. While I put on a nice tank top, black jean shorts, and sneakers, dressing fairly casual but also something I would wear on a date with Michael. My outfit showed a bit more skin due to the heat. 

He gives me a once over before asking ‘Is that new?’ as he points to my top. I nod with a look of ‘yeah why?’ and he only shakes his head back before answering, “nothing, you just look nice…and not to sound like a jealous boyfriend but…I can’t say i’m happy seeing you wear something new for them.” 

“Hey I can chan-”

“No.” He stops me before I begin. “Like I said you look good and I’ll just have to get over the fact that they’re getting to be with you tonight and not me, when all I want to do now is rip your outfit to shreds and toss you back in that bed till morning.” He says, as he grabs my hips pulling me into a heated kiss. Only allowing himself to pull back as I’m gasping for air. 

“Very tempting offer.” I breathlessly snicker while running my hands through his thick head of curls. He pulls me back in for one more peck and reluctantly drags me along to the front door so we can head out.

We arrive at the boardwalk and Michael parks his bike exactly where David said they’d be, watching the crowd go by and laughing amongst themselves till we’ve made our way into the group beside them as they take notice. Michael helps me off his bike as we stand in front of them, hands still intertwined. 

David looks at us like it’s cute we’re still trying to hold up some type of front to the situation, and I guess in a way he’s right, they have the upper hand. 

Surprisingly Marko is the first to speak, “And here I thought you were dreading going out with us, but by the looks of that outfit I’d say you were trying to put on a show, feel free to show off even more skin if you’d like.” It takes everything in my body to stay calm because I know that comment is only meant to get a rise out of me. I won’t give him the satisfaction. 

After I take a soothing breath I reply, “It’s hot outside and I’d rather not keel over from overheating, that’s all.” 

He leans closer with a smirk and gives a half-hearted “whatever you say sweetheart”, before leaning back and giggling like school girls about it with Paul. I simply roll my eyes and turn my attention back to David. 

“Let’s go.” He announces to the group as we all start to follow his lead. Dwayne walks in stride with Michael and I, sandwiching me between them, with Marko and Paul tailing behind us. I decide to chance it and look at Dwayne as he leans down towards me, not breaking eye contact for even a moment as we continue to walk. “Don’t let him get to you, he just likes to ruffle feathers. But for what it’s worth, you look lovely.” His lips lift into a half smile, half smirk once he notices the heat rising to my cheeks at the complement. I attempt to brush it off with a quick ‘thanks’ and steal a glance at Michaels now taut jaw and lingering gaze on us. I turn my attention forward as Dwayne’s hand coyly slides up my waist and is gone again before I even have time to register it as he picks up his pace to step in time with David. Michael lets out a scoff and pulls me closer to his side by our joined hands. 

David walked us to a section of restaurants with outdoor seating we could all gather at, choosing a wooden picnic bench for us. Michael and I are sitting on one bench with the two natural blondes and brunette sitting on the other, while David decides to grab a lone chair from a different table and pull it up on the side so he’s seated at the ‘head’ of the table. 

“So how is this going to work exactly? Are we all doing this together or…?” I decide to voice my curiosity before the conversation inevitably gets side tracked or leads to another argument.  

All eyes turn to David as he fills me in. “We’ll each take you out individually - Dwayne’s first.” Nodding his head in the direction of his friend. My own gaze found its way back to his dark brown eyes, that same smile from earlier plastered on. In that moment a wave of familiarity washed over me, like I’ve gotten lost in those eyes a million times before and would continue to do so for as long as I’d be allowed to stare into them. Like how it feels to look into Michaels. 

Michael.

Remembering he’s sitting right next to me I shake the previous thoughts away and proceed to stand to meet Dwayne on the other side so we can get this night started already. 

But I freeze in my tracks as it suddenly occurs to me that Michael will be all alone with the other boys for the rest of the evening, and the thought of him being tormented and teased about this situation he has no control over sends a pang of guilt through me. I decide I have to try and ease some of the tension, if I can. 

“Wait- before we go I have another condition to add.” 

David leans back in his chair with a raised brow, gloved fingers tapping along the table. “Yes?” 

“If this is going to work you can’t be at each other's throats the whole time I'm gone. Michael told me that he barely knows anything about any of you and vice versa, so while I'm on each date the rest of you are going to stay here and get to know each other - like real friends.” 

“What?” 

“I’m serious, you’re not going to sit here all night and fuck with my boyfriend behind my back, I’m not asking.” I try to muster up as much confidence in my words as I'm sure David actually has naturally coursing through him. He only ponders what I've said momentarily before giving a strained smile that doesn’t exactly meet his eyes and mutters out a quick ‘sure’. Looking towards the others that slowly nod along in agreement - even if their faces say otherwise. 

Now feeling better about leaving, I let Dwayne lead the way out of the seating area towards the  crowds of people scattered along the boardwalk for whatever he had planned.

Michael turns back to the remaining boys seated with him after staring daggers into Dwayne's back before the two completely disappear from sight. He speaks up before the others can, to get the ball rolling. “Okay so…where should we start?” He sends them each a questioning glance. 

David stares back with the most incredulous look he can muster, like he couldn’t believe he was actually going through with the ‘getting to know each other idea’. After a minute a mocking smile takes over his face. 

“Yeah…” He draws out. “We’re not doing that.” He says with little room for push back. 

Michael crosses his arms over his chest and nods his head in a similar mocking manner, amused by the reply. “You’ve got a lot to learn, they’ll come back and expect a full report on what we talked about, want specifics to make sure you followed through on your promise.” 

“We’ll make something up.” David again says matter of factly. 

Michael scoffs. “They’ll be able to tell if i’m lying, how do you think I ended up in this situation in the first place? I wasn’t able to keep what you did to me a secret.” The other boys may not want to participate in this but he’d be damned if he got into trouble for not at least trying to play nice. 

“Alright, fine. I particularly enjoyed watching you get your ass chewed out in front of half the boardwalk last night. It was the highlight of my week.” David faux relents, like he’s shared intimate knowledge of himself only few know and pretends as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders with a content sigh. Stifled giggles from the terror twins echo in the background. 

“You know what, the only one you’re hurting is yourself. Keep it up and they’ll want nothing to do with you. Which will be the highlight of my life.” 

Silence followed Michaels statement as the two were now sat in a heated staring match. The tension in the air rapidly increased as neither one backed down. If looks could kill they’d both be six feet under. Even the blondes, who hadn’t said a word since the conversation began, were forced into an awkward stillness watching the interaction unfold, waiting for the underlying hostility to bubble over. 

Paul decides someone has to try and mediate before this gets any uglier and, more importantly, his turn for a date is possibly soured by the oldest and newest member of their pack coming to blows. In his opinion the best way to deal with this would be to let them fight it out, but he knows the night can’t end with them covered in blood, scratches, and bite marks - unless they’re fucking. 

All eyes are suddenly shifted to Paul as he clears his throat obnoxiously. “Uhhh…my favorite band is Mötley Crüe.” He says with a bright smile, proud that it actually worked since the boys' body languages were all seeming to relax. 

Marko, good naturedly, pats Paul on the back as an ‘attaboy’ for the attempt. 

As Dwayne and I continue walking through the boardwalk I feel one of his hands graze my lower back and rest there. I quickly snatch his wrist and pull it in front of me.

“I said no touching.” I admonish. Before I can drop it, he seizes the opportunity to grab my hand instead. 

“I was only trying to guide you, but you’re right this way is better so we don’t get separated.” 

“Right…” I probably should have put up more of a fight, but the crowd is double the size of last night's and we could easily lose each other. Not that I really believe his reason for wanting to hold my hand is so noble. I let it slide anyways.

We make small talk about movies and music as we venture through different stalls. Anytime he asks me a question I have to mentally prepare myself before answering. His intense gaze makes me apprehensive, it's like he’s enraptured by every word and I’m nervous if what I'm saying is even adequate. He hasn’t been judgemental yet, so I let his deep baritone put me at ease when he responds to something I’ve said. 

He pulls us to a stop in front of an ice cream shop claiming it's the best in town and we should get some. After ordering and him paying for both of ours, we head towards the other side to lean against the railing while we eat. He watches as I dig out a spoonful of the sweet treat to taste. My eyes go wide from the first bite. He wasn’t kidding about how good it is and he seemed proud of himself once I told him exactly that. 

After a few mouthfuls of his own, he silently gestures towards his cup asking if I’d like to try the flavor he had and I nod in agreement. He dips his spoon in and holds it to my mouth for me to try. I squint at it before making eye contact with him and before I can even get a word out he’s anticipated why I won't try it. 

“You’re not cheating on Michael by tasting my ice cream.”

“No, but I’m not trying to swap spit by sharing a spoon.” I decline, while gently pushing his arm towards his own face to eat it and he does so with a chuckle. 

He relents and allows me to try it with my own spoon. I, in turn, make him the same offer with my cup of ice cream. 

Instead, he takes his thumb and swipes it across the corner of my mouth before bringing it back to his own and sucking on the digit. 

“Pretty good.” He says casually.

I’m in shock as my whole body is set aflame from the intimate moment. He grants me a small mercy by not acknowledging how much it affected me. I proceed to eat the rest in silence knowing if I look him in the eye or, god forbid, try and have a conversation after that I’d be a stuttering mess. 

He takes the lead once more by throwing out our trash and grabbing my hand to help me off the railing. 

“Let’s check out a few pop up booths, there might be something there you like.” He says as he walks us in that direction. 

“Like clothes and stuff?” I ask. I haven’t really explored the boardwalk before so I don’t know much about what they have or the best places to shop. 

“Yeah, that’s usually where we pick something up if we need new clothes, that’s where Marko gets all his patches because they’re…cheap.”

“Do you even own a shirt?” I jest. “Because I’ve only ever seen you in just that jacket.”

He looks back at me with amusement in his eyes. 

“I do, but the clean up from a night out is much easier without one.” 

I give him a weary look and he tenses slightly like he said something he probably shouldn’t have. 

“Do I want to know what that means?” 

He shakes his head at me, “no, probably not.” 

“Let’s just keep the conversation light for now.” I suggest, hoping not to dive into anything too heavy. I’ve enjoyed the mostly chill atmosphere so far and hope it can stay that way. 

“Deal”, he says as he gives me a genuine smile as we continue on our way.

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[metalomagnetic]

Voldemort meets Sirius.

He knows this one will be different as soon as he steps foot in the messy house.

The wards that guard it are borderline dark magic, barely legal. They are well executed, as well. An auspicious beginning, Voldemort thinks, as he patiently dismantles them.

The Black scion isn’t home; Evan dutifully let Voldemort know he’s drunk in some Knockturn pub.

“He often comes to drink in Knockturn, but always alone. Never with his Gryffindor friends. He’s a mean drunk, too, my lord. Perhaps if you wish to have a semblance of a rational conversation- as much as it is possible with any Black- you shouldn’t approach him when he’s wasted.”

The walls are …colourful. The paint was once white, but the young Black heir hung posters of muggle singers everywhere. Perhaps actors, too, Voldemort isn’t familiar with what passes for famous these days in the muggle world.

He only recognises Elvis, mounted over the fireplace.

They all look the same- tall, dark haired, dressed in leather.

Pictures of his friends are up there as well. He recognises Potter in many of them- hard not to, with that trademark Potter hair. The girl draped on his arm, red head, must be his mudblood. Voldemort forgot her name. Something flowery, but it escapes him.

Bella and Evan, occasionally Rabastan often complain about Black’s entourage, but they only name Potter.

“Stupid Potter, his mudblood and the werewolf! He left us for those little worms!”

He thinks the werewolf must be the thin one, an air of misery draped over him in every picture. Greyback complained about him, too. Remus, that’s the one, it comes to Voldemort. Remus Lupin, werewolf.

“With a name like that, I had to bite him,” Greyback smirked, in one of his rare funny moods. “He was destined to be mine, but Black stole him.”

The other boy that appears in almost all the pictures, Voldemort doesn’t even try to place.

He got a report on all of them, marked as Dumbledore’s puppets, but he only remembered the important names on that list.

The girl, he knows. Only one picture with her. Marlene McKinnon. A fighter- a good fighter. She killed three Death Eaters. A Healer, too. Voldemort always looks after powerful witches. They are sorely misrepresented in this war. It upsets Bella, who is trying to recruit more girls, with little success.

She’s in Black’s lap, head thrown back, while Black sucks a bruise on her throat. Voldemort tilts his head, wastes a second more than it is needed on the picture. He’d never seen a picture this vulgar, especially put on display on a wall. The girl is engaged, isn’t she? With one of the Prewett brothers.

He scans the walls for them, but he can’t find them anywhere.

He finds muggle telephone numbers scribbled in lipstick on the walls, instead.

The most amusing- a picture ripped from a newspaper, showing the Dark Mark floating over a house. It has many sharp objects stuck in it-

Darts. Yes, that’s the name of the game.

He smiles. Black has good aim- one of the darts is stuck in the eye of the snake.

Under the bed, beneath a loose floorboard, he finds a box kept safe by no less than five curses. He opens it to find a picture of Orion Black. It is clipped from a newspaper article, cut carefully and precisely around the edges. And a letter. It’s clearly the second page of one- the first is missing.

‘-no need to play dumb, it doesn’t suit you. You know fully well it is not cursing the half-blood that bothers me, but your lack of decorum. You are a civilised young man, you represent our family, and you should act accordingly. I warned you I do not enjoy having to correspond with either McGonagall or Dumbledore, yet you’re forcing me to do so when you blatantly misbehave. Am I to presume you do not care about my displeasure, and this is why you disobey me? Or should I conclude you would like to please your father, yet you lack the self-control to do it? I struggle to pick which option is worse. This is the seventh time in a month I receive letters about your detentions. Do stop assaulting your schoolmates, or if you must, show some cunning and do not get caught. Or else we will have to have a serious conversation when you come home for Yule. I assure you, it is not a conversation you will enjoy.

Furthermore, I hear you intend to take a mudblood to one of those holiday celebrations Slughorn likes to host. Surely, I heard wrong. You would be wise to invite Helena Edgecombe to this function. Her father mentioned just the other day that she finds your company delightful.

Flitwick was accommodating enough to send me your Charms paper, along with your grade. He mentioned it was the best paper he graded in all his years of teaching, and, after reading it, I must agree it was quite extraordinary. I am half tempted to send it to my old mentor back at the Institute. Very well done, Sirius. You certainly can make me proud when it doesn’t inconvenience you.

If only you would show proof of your upbringing in your social life, as well, I would be most content.

With love,

Your father.’

The letter has blotch marks on it, as if someone cried over it. The word ‘father’, especially, is almost erased, and Voldemort imagines Black often moved his finger over it.

Bella mentioned Sirius Black was ‘unnaturally close’ to Orion, and that his father’s death broke him. She credits this event with the boy running away from Grimmauld.

Voldemort carefully arranges these apparently precious possessions back into the box, seals it under the floorboard with the same curses he found on it.

The house is messy, unorganised, clothes thrown around, bottles of alcohol everywhere, full to the brim ashtrays lying around in odd places, and burn marks on the rug.

Yet his collection of muggle records is organised in alphabetical order, neatly. And there, hidden behind the impressive collection, Voldemort finds eight tomes filled with dark magic. All illegal.

His bathroom cabinets are just as messy, and clearly his female guests left behind bottles of lipstick, or similar products. They also left behind some lingerie. A pair of pink knickers is half hidden into a tiny gap underneath the bathtub. He wonders if they belong to the same women who left her bra between the couch cushions in the living room.

Voldemort finds a secret compartment, coming out from the side of the bathroom cabinet. Hang-over potions, peppers up. Polyjuice.

Veritaserum.

Hidden further still, he finds three lethal poisons.

If he didn’t know better, Voldemort might think two different men share the house; a careless, Bohemian womaniser, a blood traitor surrounded by mudbloods and half-bloods and other blood traitors, with muggle musicians on the wall.

And the Black heir, interested in dark magic, poisons, sleeping with his father’s picture under his bed.

This will be easy, he thinks, as he sits in an appalling armchair that doesn’t fit with the rest of the furniture.

Charmed into the armrest, there’s a letter, covered in plastic for preservation. “You fucking dog, how dare you steal my armchair! Give it back, or I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life writing horrible articles about you!”

It amuses Voldemort, as it probably amuses Black, hence why he decided to place it on the armrest, permanently.

When the young man stumbles his way into the house, he contains his surprise to find Voldemort there remarkably fast.

People have been telling Voldemort Black takes after Walburga; he might, it’s too soon to tell, but his first impression is that Sirius favours his father.

Voldemort is yet to meet an unattractive Black- and he’s met them all- but the boy is something else, even for the Blacks.

His tall, broad body is on display in the muggle attire he wears, hair falling around his shoulders with a casual elegance; he is both handsome, with strong, sharp bones and beautiful, with soft lips and long, thick eyelashes, made even darker by the paleness of his eyes.

It has been so long since he felt attraction; it travels up his spine as he takes in the boy.

Who very quickly decides he will die a hero; Voldemort can see that decision forming in his eyes. Not with Legilimency. It’s just made obvious by the way his impressive shoulders straighten with pride, his jaw sets in determination, anger replacing the fear in his eyes.

And there was fear- Voldemort is intimately familiar with fear of death, can easily recognise it when it shines in front of him.

Yet he spent his life fleeing from it.

Sirius Black walks towards it, bold.

It takes only a minute of conversation to charm him; easy, indeed. Sirius’ interest is picked instantly; pride flickers in his eyes that someone like Voldemort would bother coming to kill him; even more pride when Voldemort explains he’s there to recruit him.

He is a Black, down to his last bone. He calls Voldemort a mudblood; he declares himself the purest being in existence. He speaks of his mother; the boy in the pictures is not there, the owner of muggle records, the blood traitor- no; only the Black heir speaks to Voldemort that night.

Powerful, too, like any Black. A diamond in the rough, his magic true and strong and raw as he unleashes it. Dark curses fall with a practiced ease from his wand. Fiendfyre engulfs the room in seconds.

What a treasure. As unhinged and powerful as Bella, this one.

And there it is, his pure blood spilling over the floor, staining the carpet. Voldemort has the impulse to taste it; a momentary madness, but the boy enchants him so.

His clothes are ripped and burned in places, and Voldemort can glimpse tattoos on pale skin. Voldemort wants his mark on that skin; he wants to hold the boy’s strong forearm and brand him as his own. Claim him for himself.

Sirius Black fights readily, bravely. With his wand and with his words.

But Voldemort can smell the mountain of insecurity hidden under the fury, like the boy hides his poisons under harmless perfumes.

Some men- most men- cower when confronted with violence, bend and break under pain, especially pain caused by Voldemort’s wand.

Not this one, Voldemort understands. No, violence will only be met with violence, here.

Voldemort will need a different approach.

[arcanarix]

The Right Way - Fushiguro Toji X Reader

AO3

—

CHAPTER ONE.

Funny how one small action could change the entire trajectory of your life.

You didn’t think you were worthy of much. Especially not having some rugged, statuesque man with his signature wolfish grin practically wrapped around your finger, worshipping the ground you walk on and trailing you everywhere you went, refusing to let up or to back down.

While you would sooner leave a deep indent of your limited-edition Jimmy Choo heels square on his chiseled Adonis-like face than go on a date with him, he didn’t seem to mind the chase. In fact, it only seemed to make that dick of his harder.

All you did one evening was take an alternate route home. And look what that had cost you!

A part of you pondered why you were even complaining about this. You wanted a little excitement in your life, craved it like an addict craved their chosen substance, even, but this was not what you had in mind, and you were not the one for this man.

Especially since you knew he was far, far out of your league.

And you were not a stupid girl.

When you arrived at your apartment complex, you were stunned to find that same, persistent, damned annoying pest of a man perched on the railing of your floor, waiting for you.

“Is this any way to thank a guy for saving your life?” he called to you. “I didn’t get a name, but I found out where you live, which I suppose makes up for it.”

You were ready to fire a few insults at the guy, but you knew better. You had watched enough true crime. You did not want to be another case here.

“What do you want?”

“A name, gorgeous.”

Putting your ego aside, you told him your name. You didn’t miss how his face softened, and how your heart raced, and you wanted that to cease at that moment.

You knew nothing about this man—nothing at all!

“Now what’s yours?”

“Toji Fushiguro,” he grunted in response before landing on his feet before you.

Ugh… Show off!

Toji brushed through his jet black locks as he pondered the next steps, as if you wanted anything to do with him at all.

“Now with a proper introduction out of the way, why don’t I treat you to dinner? It took a minute to track you down after that day. A lot more effort than I expected, in fact…”

Your eyes flashed with irritation. He couldn’t be serious! First he stalked you and now he wanted to take you to fuckin’ dinner? What kind of drugs was this guy snortin’? “This how you charm all the women in your life because this isn’t working on me.”

His face appeared expressionless, devoid of caring, but he approached you, crouching to your level. The guy was so damn tall—and he was so jacked. A part of you kind of wanted to lick those muscles like he was a popsicle.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he began, tone laced in mockery. “Let me try again. I’m taking you to dinner. And then later, I’m giving you the fuck of your life. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds like a hard pass and an easy way to make any pussy shrivel up like a goddamn raisin.”

His eyes widen a bit, but he chuckled, and you were taken aback by the fact that he seemed amused by this, in some weird, twisted way.

“Been a while since I met someone with a backbone.”

“Then you must have dealt with quite a few weak fucks.”

He chuckled again.

“If only you knew who I was.”

He straightened his composure.

“If only I gave a damn about finding out,” you breathed, while enjoying the view, though you’d never let him have the satisfaction of finding out that you ever found him even remotely good-looking.

“I really hope you’re as full of bite as you are of bark, gorgeous. I have a reputation, you see.”

“Does that involve being bad at talking to women?”

His face turned bleak. “Not in the slightest. It’s completely removed from that. It had to do with those men who messed with you when you were walking home that day. Which you have yet to thank me for, might I add.”

You rolled your eyes. Oh how you hated being put on the spot like that.”

“I had it under control!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, biting back a groan. “Yes, you sure did when they all had you cornered in that deep dark alley.”

You tried to lower your defenses just a tad, but you were still irritated by this man. Just a little. You just didn’t like the situation very much, was all.

“Ugh. Fine. Thank you, O Great One. However shall I repay you?”

“Dinner. Just dinner. We can go slow.”

You perked an eyebrow. “Just moments ago, you were so certain you would swindle me into bed. Just seein’ me as another notch under your belt.”

“Or against the wall. Or in the shower,” he tacked on, punctuating each addition with emphasis.

“That’s not working,” you replied in a sing-sing voice. “I’m not that easy.”

“And I think I like that,” he winked, “Most women just fall all over me. Just at the drop of a hat. I don’t have to do anything. So this? This is a refreshing change of pace, actually.

“So… you’re commending me for having an ounce of self-respect? Now that’s just sad.”

“It is, a little bit. I have to agree. So, are you going to let me treat to dinner, or do I have to swallow my pride and get down on my knees?”

You folded your arms over your chest. “Honestly, I’m a little impressed that you are so keen on sweeping me off of my feet. Not often you find a real man like that. So… just for that, I guess I can humor you with dinner. But just dinner. The other stuff takes time, buckaroo.”

He extended his hand, smirking. “That works for me. Let’s do this the right way.”

[lovelystarlightsblog]

When they get Chickenpox.

This has been on my mind for a ridiculous amount of time and I’m finally here to post it!

Albert James Moriarty

May god bless you with patience… Trust me you’ll need it…

This man is straight up a MANACE. I’m not even kidding. You better prepare yourself like you’re going to war cause taking care of him is the most annoying, challenging, and frustrating thing you’ll ever deal with.

I cannot even stress enough how much of a pain he is when he’s sick. And this man clearly doesn’t enjoy discomfort or any kind of annoyance. And boy! He’s easily irritated. So to make this short… He’s a little b!tch…

He whines and complains nonstop about how itchy he is and how miserable he feels with his fever and red spots all over him. He also gets twice as emotional and gets irritated about the tiniest things, even if it’s as small as how his tea is getting cold.

He just finds everything around him is annoying, and in all honesty… Taking care of him is a great way to test everyone’s patience.

Albert is generally an easily irritated man, so imagine him feeling itchy all over while having a fever to complete it like a cherry on top…. Yeah, it’s not pretty at all. And you know that.

There’s not a single moment where he doesn’t act all grumpy and pouting so much. And he acts all dramatic about everything. He gets annoyed at small things and keeps telling you how uncomfortable he feels. Everytime you enter the room you always see him lay back against the bed frame with a pillow behind him. Crossing his arms and pouting like a child.

Louise is going to have to buy new plates and cups because Albert sometimes break them by pushing them off, either because the food is cold or too salty. Starving him is not an option and never will be. Cause he gets crankier when angry. Louise is almost furious at him.

The bigger problem is that Albert CAN’T keep his hands still. He just can’t handle the itching so he vigorously scratches himself all over. Nagging him that scratching only makes it worse and leave scars only stops him for a few minutes. And after that, he gets back to scratching every spot he could possibly reach. You, William, Louise had no choice but to tie his hands in mittens. And oh boy, Albert has never hated mittens so much in his whole life…

But despite his behavior, he’s actually incredibly clingy! He clings onto you close and holds you tight like his life depends on it, not wanting you to leave him for just a second. It’s adorable, but also annoying cause you have to convince him sometimes to let you leave for a minute. (Including when you need to go to the bathroom)

This would all be amusing and hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s so ANNOYING. Albert who’s usually calm and collective person suddenly turns into a cranky child with chickenpox. It’s definitely funny. You never seen him to be such a mess before, and it’s almost at the point where it’s… Amusing… (still annoying though)

The whole crew is pretty much exhausted. Including William and Louise. Jack even tells you to stop babying him cause Albert had became a lot more spoiled now. And everyone agree that out of all the missions they face. This is the hardest one…

You help him apply lotion and ointment to soothe the itching, and he’s surprisingly quiet the whole time. Only letting out small moans and sighs as you rub the lotion on his reddish skin. The tone where he ISN’T a pain to deal.

There’s also bathing him in oatmeal. And a little heads up, the water has to be just right or he’ll start complaining. But once that settled he’ll just relax as he’s soaked in the warm water. Just make sure to take an eye on him cause there’s a chance he might scratch himself.

And once he’s finally recovered (which usually last 1-2 weeks as an adult making it feels like an eternity for everyone). He’ll pretend that nothing happened. Though he’ll try to make it up for everyone by giving them something in return, cause to be honest. He’s absolutely MORTIFIED to think back how he was acting when he was sick. One more important note, never. And I mean NEVER bring that up again. He’ll give anyone the most intense glare to whoever brings that up that the word “terrifying” would be a huge understatement.

LOL I may have made Albert a bit out of character, but I seriously have no regrets. He’s such an a$$hole I love him….

I love my adult-sized baby~…

[shentheauthor]

These are not cringe at all! But uh... headcanons on what would make the Harbingers laugh? 👀

Ty ty lol… I have a habit of thinking x reader requests are cringe even tho I like writing them sometimes

Anyway, harbingers laughing hours!

Pierro:

This man knows no joy, only pain /j

Fr tho, I think he would laugh at the harbingers doing insane shit

On the rare occasion when he isn’t completely done with their shit

One time Pierro snorted at Childe getting a glass of wine thrown at him, and nobody believed him when he tried to tell them

Usually this man is a stone wall of unflinching apathy in the face of humor tho

Capitano:

Hear me out— dirty jokes

This man is a soldier. He may be a very serious person, but he will chuckle at a dirty joke. Any group of people in close quarters will start making horrible dirty jokes

One time he giggled at a cucumber bc it reminded him of something a trainee said when they thought he wasn’t listening

I won’t go further bc this is a sfw blog, but you get the idea

Dottore:

If you’ve read the webtoon, you know this man will literally just giggle spontaneously

At absolutely nothing

He will laugh at other people in pain too

An assistant fell down the stairs, and he just laughed for ten minutes instead of helping

Yes this does include the older dottores

They all have the same sense of humor

He also finds Scaramouche’s insults hilarious

Hehehohoaha man

Columbina:

Honestly she would laugh more at people attempting to tell jokes than the joke itself

She finds it amusing that people find it funny

Like if Dottore is laughing at Childe, she will laugh at Dottore

It’s impossible to get her to do anything more than a soft giggle or a chuckle, tho

Don’t even try, it won’t happen /hj

Arlecchino:

Step 1 to get her to laugh: be Childe

Step 2: get hurt

Step 3: profit

She’s another one who laughs at the pain of others

If she isn’t rolling her eyes

She finds complaining annoying, but she will absolutely laugh when bones break and recruits cry

These people are all horrible people lmfao

Pulcinella:

Finally, someone wholesome

He will laugh at kids getting up to shenanigans

So like, Childe’s siblings putting on a little kid show

He will laugh and clap along

Me inserting my papanella hcs into everything I do lmfao

Basically this man likes kids, so he finds their silly shenanigans funny

Scaramouche:

Another who likes the pain and suffering of others

Especially if the others are yae, Dottore, and ei

His voice line about Kazuha is just him losing it over that man blocking Ei’s sword

He also finds mortals in general amusing

As long as they don’t bother him

He’ll laugh at someone offering him food, like a jackass

Evil little man. Absolutely horrible (affectionate)

Sandrone:

A genuine laugh is hard to get out of her

She’ll chuckle if someone has the balls to touch one of her dolls

And then she’ll kill that person

Very bold of that person to assume she would be ok with that

Basically she laughs at the sheer audacity of people

Signora:

Another one that’s hard to get to laugh

But she will give an amused “hm” if one of her subordinates is confused or upset

Like Childe lmao

She thinks him being angry is hilarious

Also, if venti ever gets hurt, and she finds out, she will cackle

The only time she will ever belly laugh lmao

Pantalone:

Most of his laughter is fake

But the jokes he actually does like are, shockingly, ones with puns

You can’t tell me he doesn’t enjoy wordplay

Also he tends to laugh with other people. You know how some people have contagious laughs? Pantalone catches laughter like it’s a disease

So basically, if someone else is laughing, you bet he’s holding back giggles behind that smile

This is especially bad if it’s someone like Dottore or Tartaglia

He will cry laugh if they’re having a fun time

Also dark humor

Tartaglia:

Dirty jokes, puns, physical comedy

Dark jokes too

He makes REALLY dark jokes, and will laugh at them himself

The kinds of dark jokes that make people suggest you go to therapy

It’s his way of coping

He isn’t actually a sadist, contrary to popular belief, but he sure will laugh at his coworkers in pain

Unless it’s the top 3 harbingers

He prays for the day Signora trips or even bumps into a table so he can lose his absolute mind

He’s also similar to pulcinella, finding kids amusing

He also laughs during battle. It’s kinda terrifying Kskgkbkdkgkelvkkegm

[ceilingfan5]

Setting Z would be really funny for Barry Bluejeans

“Hurry up and figure things out, before I get fired from a second morgue. Please?” Barry Bluejeans is near tears, or violence. Or maybe just sitting on the floor. The buttons are all very close to each other on his mental keyboard.

“The please is a nice touch,” Kravitz acknowledges pleasantly. “I don’t think it’ll work, but I appreciated it.” 

“Hush your vibes,” Taako says, putting his hands to his temples and cocking an eyebrow intensely. “I’m getting a message from the afterlife.”

“Taako, you don’t have to do the act for us,” Barry complains. “We know you aren’t psychic.” 

“Says who! I’m offended. Let me at ‘em. I’ll prove it with my hands tied behind my back!”

“Use your hands to solve the murder, maybe,” Kravitz suggests wryly. He leans against the metal of the Fridge and jumps, probably because it’s cold as fuck. Barry makes that mistake like three times a day. 

“Or don’t, don’t touch the body, I swan to John, Taako, I know I owe Lup a favor but-”

“More than just a favor, mon ami!” 

“Not bad enough to get fired and arrested in the same day!” Barry starts pacing again, you know, so he doesn’t have to spin that violence/tears/floor roulette wheel. What a variety of options he has for himself! “Your stupid act may have the cops fooled, but I’m-”

“What, a genius?” Taako puts his hands on his hips. “Look at this man.”

“Ex-man,” Kravitz suggests.  

“Oh yeah? Good for h- oh you mean dead.”

“Taako, Robbie is going to be back any minute. I can’t just have people in here! Especially,” he gives Taako a Very Serious Look Tee Em. “If they aren’t being helpful.” 

“I’m so helpful. Notice, in fact,” he gestures like he’s about to do some woo-woo psychic bullshit, but thinks better of it. “That he has been frozen.” 

“Like a corpsicle,” Kravitz suggests. 

“Kravitz,” Barry says, strained. “You’ve gotta stop. I’m going to get an ulcer.”

“Fuck you man, Kravitz is patently amusing.” Taako points a finger with intent at Barry. 

“Well, I’m about to be hilarious. Find out why our corpsicle is freezer burnt, or you’re fucking out of here.” 

“Ooh, he said fucking,” Taako whispers behind his hand to Kravitz. Kravitz snickers. Barry grips the table and gets ready to lose it, it either being his patience or his livelihood, when Taako gasps. 

“What,” Barry asks, so tersely it doesn’t deserve a question mark. 

“Peas!”

“Peas?”

“Peas.” Kravitz nods like he knows about the peas. In fact it appears that the only guy out of the legume loop. 

“E-lab-or-ate.” 

“This guy worked for the frozen food factory,” Taako says, all in a rush, bouncing now that he’s figured it out. “Oh my god, call that bitch of a cop, I’ve figured it out.”

“Tell me now! You can do your goddamn Sherlock reveal later!” 

“Oh my god,” Kravitz says. “He worked in the chicken nugget area, but he was found in the frozen peas.”

“So this could only mean one thing!”

Barry glowers at these two idiots, not least because he very much wants to be in on their Sherlock Bullcrap. 

“What?” Taako snickers. “You didn’t figure it out?” 

“You know, I do a lot for you two wingdings,” Barry starts. “After all this time, you’d think- Wait. Hang on.”

“He’s getting it,” Taako whispers to Kravitz. 

“This is great,” Kravitz says behind his hand, entirely audible. “Way better than pharmaceuticals.” 

“Hang on, fuck, hang on. This isn’t the chicken nugget guy. This man is a twin.”

“Bingo.” 

“The banker twin?”

“The banker twin.” 

“Oh my god.”

“Bingo bango, even.” 

“He froze the peas guy’s assets–”

“And the peas guy froze him.” 

“Jesus fursuit wearing Christ,” Barry says, deciding to finally sit on the floor. He can’t control the words that start streaming out of him. “You- you guys know that most deaths that come in here aren’t like, fun little mysteries? Like you’re aware it’s mostly heart attacks and shit? Like, this is entirely unrealistic, and honestly since you two have started doing this-”

“Shh, Barry,” Taako says, getting out his phone. “We’ve got a scene to pull. For fame and glory.” 

“And about a hundred fifty bucks each,” Kravitz adds. 

“Oh, it’s one hundred now,” Barry says, pulling it together enough to flash them a bitchy smile. “You want my help, you’re paying for it.” 

“Aw, damn it,” Taako mumbles. “You were right, Krav.” 

[murdrdocs]

OKAY im glad you dont find it silly bc i have more modern earth things peter would have fun with!!

he looooves wireless headphones (over ear, obviously) because when hes dancing he always loses his balance when he got his arm wrapped in a wire. he can twirl freely now.

he does, however, hate it when you show him the footloose remake. he spends the whole time complaining.

i think he has a lot of fun with animals (bc of a certain best buddy he had back in the sky) and fucking LOVES funny animal videos and sends them to you all the time. also, he likely spends a lot of his time volunteering and rehabilitation facilities, especially those with rescued baby raccoons.

he would probably love a spielberg and scorsese marathon, two of the most famous directors from the time he left earth, to catch him up on their recent work. he really likes jurassic park but feels really bad for all the dinosaurs. also, ian malcom looks like a guy he met on sakaar once? and i think he’s just in awe of the fact that you can watch whatever movie you want and listen to whatever song whenever you want at any time of day. which is why the ORIGINAL footloose is somehow always playing in the background on the tv.

he doesn’t like a lot of popular music from nowadays, but he WILL listen to the deep cuts like a hipster. (don’t call him that, he doesn’t know what it means.) i could see him being really into psych rock and some blues rock from today. take him to lollapalooza, please. he’ll have the time of his life.

and lastly this isn’t exclusive to modern day but he obviously didn’t really get the chance to enjoy them as a child, he would fucking LOVE amusement parks. ride all the rides, play all the games to win you all the prizes. (he’s suspiciously impeccable at the shooting ones)

this is all so so accurate like i don't even have anything to add??

except, the amusement park thing is 100% true. no matter how big the ride is, he's on it (fury 325 im looking @ u). he has his hands up, "woo"ing like his life depends on it, and he invests in a fast pass because he's super impatient and hates waiting in the long lines. the carnies hate him because the games are obviously rigged, but peter still manages to win ? and he doesn't even know that they're rigged, he's just winning them back to back, betting he could do so whenever you try to tell him that they games are impossible to win. (he only wants a kiss and a slice of pizza, btw)

also, quill is always down for a movie night. for the first few months back on earth, he alternates between listening to music and watching movies. once he's caught up on his old favorites, he literally just rewatches them. he almost flat-out refuses to go to theaters and see new releases, unless it's from one of the older greats or possibly the newer ones (he likes some christopher nolan films, but he can't get into wes anderson). also the jurassic park bit is rlly getting me because he gets to the newer ones, and just pauses the tv whenever owen grady comes up because peter swears he's his long lost twin or doppleganger. and you're just playing with him, gaslighting him just a bit ("no, owen grady is hotter than you. you guys don't look alike at all").

he's also the type to see strays and bring them home, leaving you both to call around and figure something out. but he can't just leave them there. he'd rather have a barn for a house than have strays out there alone.

he would be so confused and a little offended if you called him a hipster, because he literally just doesn't ?? know ?? what you mean ?? at first he thinks you're calling him a hippie and that's way off. all he knows is that when you say "hipster", your voice has a teasing tone and you have a little smile that tells him it's not an amazing comparison.

completely random but peter has no concept of money. when he was a kid, $5 was like heaven to him, but he's dealt with so many intergalactic monetary conversions that dollars mean nothing to him. so when he's shopping for a pair of overear headphones, and he stumbles upon the pricy sony or apple ones, he's just like "that's a reasonable price, right?". until you remind him of how much money he has in his bank account so he's fine with a cheaper pair from amazon.

which, speaking of, peter becomes addicted to amazon for a moment. having all of that at the tap of his finger is overwhelming, and he's a mini-hoarder for a few weeks until you change the amazon password and refuse to tell him.

[paper-starz]

im sorry if I seem annoying I just love seeing interactions between your stuff and DottyOrange's stuff sjdbhsbshd

Anyway, I've been wondering, what would it be like if the Homes all swapped (including shop in homes lol)

Like- Home(SAS) takes 7S!Home's place, 7S takes Shop's, and Shop takes SAS! Home's place

Oh you aren’t annoying at all Anon!!! I love the asks people send me!! (GIVE ME ALLLL UR QUESTIONS WHILE I WORK ON COMIC STUFF)

As for your question, here’s what I think would happen:

SAS!Home would LOVE his new position as Hell’s ruler! It would definitely rule the place with an iron fist!! The 7S!Puppets are a bit worried on why their Home is a bit more cruel than usual… especially 7S!Wally. The poor demon puppet is confused on why Home is a LOT more loving towards him… and way too overprotective…

SAS!Home: Wally! Don’t go near the fire! You’ll get burned!!

7S!Wally: But… we’re surrounded by fire… I can MAKE fire… WE ARE IN HELL, HOME.

The rest of the demons would stay pretty far away from Home. Mostly because the horrific aura that surrounds it could make any demon freeze in terror. Not only that, but chaos would ensue as now the demons have to learn to be nice to Wally… Or else they would receive a punishment from Home.

7S!Howdy would have to learn how to share, 7S!Sally cannot be jealous, etc etc. Extremely hard to do if ur the embodiment of Greed and Envy….

7S!Home is just wondering how in the world he got into this situation… It’s not in hell, there are different versions of his demons (that are not demons anymore…), and… THERE’S A DOPPLEGANGER?????

RCS!Wally: Why are you yelling at Howdy’s home?

7S!Home: That… THING is… IMPERSONATING ME!!!

RCS!Wally: It’s just a building…

RCS!Wally figures out pretty quick this ain’t his Shop, but he is still pretty confused. 7S!Home doesn’t like his new form as Wally’s Shop… but other than that, it’s pretty docile. It doesn’t have any reason to hurt any of the puppets since they haven’t done anything, so it just watches them (seeing an alternate universe version of his demons is incredibly amusing to him)!

I also find it super funny for 7S!Home to have some beef with RCS!Howdy’s home. Like, it would start chanting demonic curses and would vow to burn the “impersonator”. (The poor guy doesn’t even know he’s beefing with a building XD)

As for Shop in SAS!Home’s place:

Shop is mostly confused on how it got here. The neighborhood looks like it’s regular universe… but it also looks like it’s old universe… like how he used to be. But also… different.

Shop realizes pretty soon that Wally isn’t aware of what’s going on, the rest of the puppets are. And while Shop isn’t so cruel as to torture the poor puppets… It also wants to at least pretend that everything is back to the way it used to be. Everything that was once topsy-turvy is now put back in its right spot.

It also likes this version of Wally. It’s good seeing a version of Wally less stressed…

The other puppets know right away that something is up with Home. It seems to be acting a bit more nicer to the rest of them…kinda? All Shop is really doing is ignoring them, not that the rest of the puppets are complaining!

(the 7 Sins au and RoleCall Swap Au belongs to @dottyorange !!)

(Self aware swap au belongs to yours truly✨✨✨)

[bbwritesmuchstuff]

Lust!Sans x Female!Reader Pt 2

Sans starred as you walked off. You really hadn’t asked for anything. As polite as most the monsters were, usually they would’ve asked for some sort of ‘favor’. You’d just smiled and brushed him off. He shook his head. She’s nice. Why are you so surprised? Sans teleported home. There were clinking sounds coming from the kitchen, signaling that Papyrus was also home. 

“I’m home, Papy.” Sans called out. Papyrus came out of the kitchen, smiling. 

“How’d work go?” Papyrus asked. Sans shrugged. 

“Fine, I guess. There was a bit of an incident but the new bartender stepped in.” 

Papyrus gave a knowing look. 

“She’s cute, isn’t she?” 

“I- yes, but don’t Pap.” 

“Whaat?” 

“You can’t set me up with everyone I find cute.” 

“But, Sans-”

“No.” 

“Fine.” Papyrus huffed. “You just seem so unhappy sometimes and I think getting out more than just for your job would be good for you. Get out. Go do something.” 

Sans sighs and plops onto the couch. 

“Look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll get out more if we eat out more AND you have to come with me for most of it.” 

“Deal.” Papyrus grinned. “We’re going to have so much fun!”  

Sans groaned, already dreading whatever Papyrus had planned. 

~ 

You groaned while waking up the next day. You glared at your window that had let a sliver of light hit your eye despite the black out curtain. Rolling out of bed, you felt around for your phone. It was the afternoon so you’d gotten a decent amount of sleep for once. You got up and flipped on the light of your bedroom and got ready for the day. As usual, the apartment was quiet. Such is life when you lived by your lonesome. You had a few errands to run before work including grocery shopping. 

While going through the aisles and getting what you needed when you heard a familiar voice. 

“Why did I have to come? I could be getting my sleep in before work.” complained Sans. An unfamiliar voice answers him. 

“You promised me you’d get out more! Sleeping isn’t getting out!” 

You rounded the corner to see Sans draped over the cart and another skeleton arguing with him, his brother, you guessed, as he was trying to nap in the cart. All you could think to say was: 

“You know, you’re really not supposed to sit in those.” You had an amused smile on your face as you approached them. Sans jumped a bit, causing him to fall off the cart. He hit the floor with a loud THUD! You ran around the cart and helped him up. 

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You asked. He gave a pained chuckle. 

“Not very graceful of me. Oops.” 

“You only have to be graceful at work.” You said. Sans’ hand lingered in yours for a moment before he realized what he was doing and pulled away. 

“Is this your new friend from work?” 

 Sans looked at his brother like he just remembered he was there. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. This is her.” 

“I’m Papyrus. Nice to meet you.” Papyrus said, holding out his hand. You gave him your hand for what you assumed would be a handshake. He instead gave a quick kiss on the back of the hand. You probably gave him an odd look because Papyrus just just laughed at you. 

“You were right. She’s cute.” Papyrus said. Sans gave Papyrus a sharp look. “Don’t worry, I won’t flirt with your little girlfriend.” 

Sans groaned and covered his face. You noted that while confident at work, Papyrus seemed to know all the buttons to push to embarrass Sans. Sans grabbed your hand and pulled you away from his brother before more shenanigans could ensue. 

“You should get her number!” Papyrus called after you two.

“Shouldn’t you stay with your brother?” You asked. Sans shrugged. You pulled your cart behind you before he pulled you too far to reach it. You laughed at him a bit. 

“Why are you embarrassed? You’ve called me cute before.” 

“I- Well, it’s different when my brother does it. He means it to tease how I talk at work. He thinks it’s funny.” Sans said. 

“You talk that differently at work?” You asked. You did notice that Sans seemed much more casual. He was wearing a tee shirt and a jacket as opposed to his crop top that he usually wore to work. He looked comfy. 

“I guess. Papy says the way I talk to customers is funny.” Sans told you. You shrugged and continued your shopping with Sans in tow. 

“Not really. From what I’ve seen, that’s actually pretty typical for people in your profession. I’ve seen people put on fake accents and change their voice completely for work. Even I’ve got to change my voice a bit to sound more friendly.” You told him. “I take it your brother doesn’t work in customer service because as far as I’m aware everyone has a ‘customer service voice’.” 

Sans shook his head. 

“Nah, Paps is in the royal harem technically so he just hangs out with the other members and works out a lot.” 

“Technically?” 

“He doesn’t actually have sex with the king. Undyne keeps him out of it because she thinks he’s too sensitive for it but he still gets paid so ya know.” Sans explained. You nodded like you understood but honestly you didn’t. They didn’t exactly openly explain their structure and given human society’s view on sex in general, you didn’t figure it was something you could really research either. Sans seemed to clue in to your confusion but instead of explaining further he just chuckled. 

“That’s pretty cool, I guess.” 

“Yep, my brother is super cool.” Sans smiled. “So, are you working tonight too?” 

“Yeah. Does stuff like last night happen often?” You asked, trying to find a topic of conversation. 

“Not nearly as often as it used to. The Anti-Monster protests outside have died down too. They still happen but not nearly as often as when we first opened.” Sans said. You’d heard about protests like that but never seen one. Disappointed but not surprised in people. 

“Welcome to the Surface,” You said sarcastically. Sans snorted. He sighed and said

“I better get back to Pap. See you at work.”

You blinked and Sans was gone. You gasped and rubbed your eyes. Well, that was weird. You guessed it was a magic thing and brushed it off. Finishing your shopping, you checked out  and headed home to get ready for work. When you got to Grillby’s, someone had egged the front windows and Grillby was cleaning it up. You shook your head and walked in. You set up your station.  The night was going smoothly until a patron started hitting on you. You had Grillby serve him so you didn’t have to deal with him. You largely just ignored him until he tried reaching over the bar to grab you. You moved out of the way, still mixing a drink. The guy muttered, 

“Fucking bitch.” 

“Please don’t reach across the bar.” Grillby said. Sans was taking his break and sitting at the bar. He noticed what was happening and piped up.

“Dude, she’s not interested. Just get your drink and let her do her job.” 

“Shut up, slut.” the guy snapped. Grillby grabbed his empty drink from him. 

“You’re done. You’ve clearly had enough.” Grillby said. 

“Hey!” the guy yelled. He turned to you. “You got a boyfriend?” 

You rolled your eyes and served your next drink to a customer. They looked at you sympathetically. Sans got up from his chair. 

“Yeah. Me. So fuck off.” Sans snapped. 

“Ugh,” the drunk grumbled something else that you probably didn’t wanna hear anyway. He walked off, flipping off the bar as he left. You rolled your eyes. 

“I wasn’t aware you two were dating.” Grillby said sarcastically. 

“Ya snooze, you lose, Grillby.” Sans jokes, “Cutie’s mine now.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. 

“Thanks.” You said, still chuckling. Sans winked at you. 

“I’ll be your fake boyfriend any day of the week.” Sans said, throwing finger guns at you. “Because I’m weak for you.” 

You laughed at the dumb pun. 

“Welp, that’s the end of my break. Back to work. See you later, sweetie.” Sans said and walked away to go back to his stage. The rest of the night went off without a hitch. You and Sans kept making eye contact and making dumb faces at each other, trying to make the other break in the middle of work. It hasn’t worked yet. Upon getting home, you received a text from Sans;

Had fun tonight. See you tomorrow, cutie. ;) 

[magnorious]

Review: ‘A God Buys Us Cheeseburgers’, Percy Jackson Episode 5

**Spoiler Alert for the entire book!**

I would like to start this review off on the nature of adaptations and when to go astray, given the less-than-stellar dip in quality of episode 4. Inevitably, details must change from the source material, some things are unfilmable. The source material in question here is in first person, which leaves so much of the story outside the protagonist’s head unwritten.

Had this season been given, say 10 episodes, and worked to establish the side characters we watch fight and die in the name of the gods and their friends later down the line, no one would have complained. Characters I won’t name (but iykyk) that got criminally little ‘screen time’ during Percy’s POV in the later books, only to have incredibly tragic demises were sad enough. Now imagine if, assuming the Disney show can accomplish filming all five books, we got to see these characters grow for all five seasons.

The era of TV we find ourselves in treats filler as universally bad and unacceptable. Plopping down on your couch on a weeknight to watch an off-beat episode of that cop drama you love or that addictive doctor show, or teen romance, that didn’t require your full attention all the time because every scene was important to the plot doesn’t happen anymore. An episode that was funny or charming or a romantic little side quest putting the characters we love in interesting circumstances is now far and few between. It still told the grand story, even if it didn’t service the grand plot. That’s the nature of television.

The filler everyone complains about is when it’s uninteresting, contrived, and very clearly for no other reason than to pad the runtime. Taking a C-list monster and giving her an unnecessary monologue and a need to ‘hunt’ that wasn’t in the book? Boring filler.

Cutting back to camp and really selling us on how Luke is an awesome dude looking out for all the younger kids so he can twist the knife later? Good filler! He’s the main villain of the series (besides you know who) and we got so little of him in the books because it was limited to Percy’s POV. Build his relationships with Chiron, Beckendorf, Silena, Clarisse, the Stolls, and the other demigods he ends up turning Dark Side with him. Make him the lovable everyman because he really did love the kids. He hated how the gods treated them. Die hard book fans, if the writers really went for it and understood why his character does what he does, would have loved it.

Now onto the episode that I was hoping and praying would be more like episode 3 than 4.

So. They included the snipping of the thread. And Percy wasn’t there to see it, nor was it at all as creepy and foreboding as it should have been. I kept waiting for them to flash back to Percy’s experience in the river with the naiad and they didn’t. Maybe they ran out of under-water effects budget. Percy’s “maybe my dad does love me” tonal whiplash is disappointing since 90% of the river scene was lost (and he didn’t even come out of the water dry).

Ares’ casting isn’t what I pictured but it fits really well and I can’t place why. His features don’t really feel *godly*. Him starting Twitter wars is wonderfully petty and absolutely in-character. He just acts like an unhinged jerk, not the God of War, as funny and entertaining as it is.

It is also disappointing that Annabeth is the one that snarks to Ares and not Percy, because his attitude is what eggs on their big fight on the beach while she and Grover actively try to tame Percy’s temper. The episode, to this point, is *fine*.

Everything after… I was laughing at the absurdity. The absolute deadpan confusion on their faces when “What is Love” starts playing like the mixer accidentally edited in a track from their Spotify. The set designers forgetting that “Waterland” is a waterpark, not just an amusement park. Grover being unrecognizably sly and confident in front of Ares when he wasn’t supposed to be there at all. Some of the dry attempts at humor, like Percy’s “I think I heard this at an orthodontist” line, not in itself funny, but his dry delivery was.

Grover’s ongoing conversation trying to probe Ares is hilarious, even if that’s not Grover on screen. It’s not bad, it’s just… not Grover. Percy and Annabeth’s jaunt and awkward exposition and line delivery in the Tunnel of Love is also *fine*. Them hyperfocusing on the Fates’ string this episode is another *interesting* change and so is Percy’s second attempt to sacrifice himself in a scene that’s way more dramatic than it needed to be. Boy is all teary-eyed convinced he’s going to die here in this trap when, in the book, he was trying to get Annabeth to move her behind because she was petrified by robotic spiders. She has her come-to-Jesus moment here, which was sorely needed for this version of her character who, up to this point, had very little depth.

And there are no robot spiders. Did they not have the budget for robot spiders? Is Percy not allowed to have the rest of his powers? Were they too afraid of giving Annabeth a phobia? Did they just desperately need to inject some angst into this scene? All of the angst, to the sound of heartbreaking violins in a score that also went way too hard. Nobody seriously thought Percy was going to bite the dust here, did they?

Overall, this is better than 4, but not as good as 3, if I had to rank them. If you pretend this isn’t supposed to be the first season of at least five, Grover likely doesn’t seem like a problem. His whole arc, across all five books, is gaining self-confidence and courage. He can’t grow into a brave Lord of the Wild if he starts his journey back-talking the God of War.

Annabeth not having her entirely useless panic attack over the spiders and forcing Percy to have to save them was the main takeaway from the original trip to Waterland. She’s not perfect, but this flaw is also entirely outside of her control, it’s in her blood as a child of Athena. It’s ridiculous that someone as smart and strong and cunning as she is can be petrified by spiders – but that’s the point. 

The commentary on how the gods, as a family, constantly backstab each other was interesting. Not sure that this episode was the best place for it, but it’s nice that it exists.

The changes that were made were entertainingly confusing. It was not what I ordered, but I didn’t hate what I was served. Ares is easily the best part of this episode, but it is glaringly obvious that this show, whether by budget or the Powers That Be, is allergic to action scenes.

Here’s to hoping they saved all their eggs to drop in the basket of the big climactic beach brawl, because this is still an action-adventure series, not just adventure.

[takendruid]

Abandoned homestuck art for the time being since 1) I need a break from it and 2) I’ve revived my special interest for Destiny.

My friends don’t play Destiny but my dad does! But I actually don’t know what his gaurdian’s face or hair looks like. I made my friends do a survey to see what they’d choose and all of us are exos, and even my d1 characters are both exos (all three of my characters have the exact same fucking face shape…). Also my dad’s guardian isn’t my guardian’s dad, just to clarify…

Top three are my two characters, and the bottom two are my friends’ designs that they did through me. My D1 character is a new character I’ve made because I literally couldn’t continue the house of wolves campaign with the stuff I had on my first character (which literally had the same fucking face and horn as well BY THE WAY. Which is also the same face shape as Shiro-4.)

My D2 character is called Taken because like,, even though I didn’t ever play The Taken King DLC, I want him to have been like,, Taken by Oryx 👁️👁️ he used to be called Edward-15, but that’s no longer the name he uses. He lost his memory mostly (since he’s an exo) but now goes by Taken because he was the Taken Guardian. His ghost also lost his light for a period of time, which is why my D2 boy was able to be taken. Taken is a very sweet boy pre-taking, but gets an attitude post-taking because… yeah :) he was verbally abused by another Guardian (who is based on my abuser, who got me properly into Destiny). Cayde is sort of like a father figure to him (even though I started D2 in January 2019 but SHHHHH) and after Cayde dies, Taken calls his ghost “Ace”. Also Ace has much more of an attitude than the Ghost normally does because he had to put up with Feral’s (my abuser’s guardian) abuse. Like- Feral would rip into Taken for being dysfunctional in Taken hotspots and literally complains about him to Ikora during the Red War campaign while the two are RIGHT THERE, and Ace is literally like “can we fucking talk about something that’s actually important and not literally talking about my guardian like he’s not there?” He has a lot more sass than our ghost normally does. Also Taken is a bladebarrage and stasis user, which is funny because they’re literally polar opposites; dark and light, and ice and fire.

My D1 character is the guardian you play in D1. He’s called Atlas-9, and his ghost is called Cronus. Cronus would probably have dinklebot’s voice, and Atlas would probably be Russian due to waking up in the cosmodrome. I use bladedancer on him, but 1) I want to use nightstalker so bad and 2) he would probably be a spectral blades hunter. While Taken is aroace, Atlas is so fucking gay. Especially for Cayde. Literally the definition of Tom Cardy’s “Flirt (with your dad)”. Taken finds this extremely fucking weird because Cayde is literally the Vanguard, aka their boss. Dude tries MULTIPLE TIMES to flirt with Cayde, but Cayde just ignores him (but finds them amusing). @/sylenth-l hcs that Andal Brask was a void hunter, so… ngl I half made Atlas a nightstalker hunter for some Cayde angst… Also Atlas doesn’t have a proper design because I literally don’t have any good gear yet (I haven’t even finished the vanilla campaign (I’m on the last mission) but I’ve finished Dark Below and I’m in the middle of house of wolves). Also fun fact, I gave my first character a horn before finding out Cayde had a horn, so Atlas having the horn is only half because of Cayde. There is a HC that Shiro-4 has the body of a Titan or was a Titan, and I love that HC so much that I literally thought to myself “what if Atlas… was the same, and that’s why he’s so much taller and beefier than Taken”

Atlas’s ghost is called Cronus because I’m a sad little homestuck fan 😭 I literally looked up at my wall and saw my Eridan sticker and thought to myself “what’s Eridan’s name origin and can I discreetly call his ghost Eridan?” The answer ended up being no, however I looked up Cronus Greek mythology and saw Cronus was a titan. Then I looked up other Titans and saw Atlas. I looked up if Atlas 9 was a thing and turns out! Mercury-Atlas 9 was the final USA space craft mission to Mercury, and I thought that was perfect because Atlas is found in a Cosmodrome, which is literally a Russian launching site for spacecraft. USA and Russia are two very different things, but the take away was “space craft! Cosmodrome! Space mission! Perfect!!” Also the numbers in Atlas-9 and Edward-15 are connected to 1) my username but also 2!) the taken king release date >:]

As for my friends! The female Exo is called Del-4. I was looking at exo names to see if any were just normal names and was like “omg there’s an exo called del-3!” And my friend is called Del. She literally said to me “shitpost and call her Del-4”. Also her ghost is called Crab because it’s cute. As for the male exo (even though they are nonbinary) is called Attica-2 because one of their characters is called Atticus. Their ghost is called Malachite, which is the name of an OC they own but also! The name of my Druid OC, which was quite connected to their Atticus OC.

[thisreadswhatever]

The 401 Freeway

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 1.8k+

[summary]: what’s more boring then being stranded on the highway with jax teller?

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, car sex, pet names, public sex (kinda), overstimulation, possible grammar/spelling errors

[authors note]: this one shot is inspired by this request, thank you for sending it to me! not as angsty as i had wanted but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

“I told you that we could’ve rode there.” You rolled your eyes, looking straight over the steering wheel into the road ahead. You’d argued about driving your car before you’d even left for the weekend. Jax was always pushing you to ride his bike, but after your brother’s accident years ago, you swore you never would again. “You know how I feel about riding, Jax.”

“I know I know.” He placed a reassuring hand on your thigh. “But one of these days you’re gonna have to get it over with, babe. Cant be anymore dangerous than driving this piece of junk.” He rolled the recliner back, lifting his feet on the dashboard and settling his dirt stained nikes along window.

“It got us out of Charming for the weekend so I’d say it holds up pretty well.”

“Well I certainly can’t complain about the driver.” He was peering through his lowered sunglasses, smiling right at you. It was hard to be annoyed at him when he looked at you that way. “Feet off the dash, passenger.” You slapped his jeans, forcing his legs back into the footwell. “Yes ma’am.”

Your goal of driving out to the coast for the weekend, as nice as it had been, was just to get some time away from Gemma. She’d been hounding you ever since you and Jax got back together. He could only wear her down so much, and he knew it too, Gemma was relentless. Even with her pulling at your last nerves, it took a lot to convince Jax to leave for the weekend, let alone let you drive. Things had been heating up at the club for some time, dealings that you shouldn’t even know of we’re starting to get out of hand. Jax knew getaways probably weren’t the best idea, but you would do anything to have a few days away from his overbearing mother, including a few promises, that you had indeed kept, of some hot sex on the beach.

“It should only be a few hours till we’re back. Why don’t you drop it off at the clubhouse and Chibs can have a look at it. See if we can fix it up.” Like he was cursing it as he spoke, suddenly the engine gave way, and no matter how hard you pushed the pedals beneath your feet there was no give. “Shit shit shit!”, you slapped the steering wheel with your palms. You managed to curb the car alongside the road before it came to a complete halt.

“What did I just call this?” Jax was overtly amused by the timing. “A piece of junk? Oh yeah, that’s right.”

“Ugh!” You hopped out the car and slammed the door, kicking the tires with all your might. “Piece of shit. You couldn’t just wait to fall apart!” You walked towards the front of the car, to a horrific smell of burning and smoke bellowing out of the crevices. And then you kicked the bumper of the car a little more.

Jax was watching you from a distance, cigarette in hand, amused at your tantrum. “Jax this isn’t fucking funny! Look at us, we’re fucking stranded!” You folded your arms like a spoilt teenager and stumped yourself down against the passenger door. “Our weekends fucking ruined.”

Jax walked over and sat down beside you, smushing his right leg against yours. “Relax, babe.” He nudged your shoulder with his. “I called the guys. Piney will be coming to get us in a few hours. Hopefully tow this thing back to the junkyard.” You scoffed at him, “Perfect, more biker boys.” You stood up, and leaned against the hood of the car. “What’s so wrong with a biker boy?”, Jax called to you, almost inviting you in his tone. “How about their inability to love a classic set of four wheels.”

He laughed at you as he stood up, crushing his cigarette beneath his sneaker. “Well, I got an idea of how we can use this four wheel death trap while we wait for the ‘biker boys’.”

He pulled you further from the hood, up the side of the drivers door, slightly out of view from traffic. He knew you’d thank him for that later on. For now though, all you could think of was the trailing of his fingers under your jeans, gripping your ass above your thong. You could feel the cold metal of his rings against your skin as he kneaded your flesh. “I’ve been wanting to rip these jeans off you since you put them on this morning, babe.”

He felt so good on you, peeling you back layer by layer, which he knew so well. “Turn around for me.” You did what he asked, turning so your chest was against the driver door. “Is this how you want me, Jax?” He grabbed yours wrists in response, putting both above your head, securing them to the roof of the car with one hand. You felt sticky underneath the California sunset, pinned up against your car like the whole world wasn’t driving past. Yet knowing this only seemed to turn you on more. “This is how I want you. So fucking hot like this.” You pushed your ass into him as far as your body would allow, feeling his grip tighten around your wrists. feeling his hard cock between you and your jeans.

Your cheeks smushed against the window. Jax buried his face into your neck, leaving red marks along the nape as he bit into your flesh. He carried his free hand under your button down shirt, and down your navel to your waistband, undoing the button. You moaned into the window as he slid your jeans down, exposing your ass to the entire 401 freeway.

Jax dug his face through the hair covering your ear, “You are the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” As he tugged at the fabric that further down your thighs. You buckled at his words, “Please fuck me already, Jax.”

He groaned at your begging, “You want me to fuck you here? With all these cars watching?” His hand was now toying with your entrance beneath your thong, feeling your slick mounting at his words.

Your knees were grinding up the side of the car as your body tried to find relief in his grasp. “God yes, fucking take me, please, Jax.” He smiled at your desperation,

“Anything for you, darlin’.”

Jax moved your thong so your pussy was exposed, you could feel the cool air hit your warmth. He continued to kiss your neck while he undid the button to his jeans. Never letting go of your hands above your head, he pulled his length from his boxers and teased you with the tip, sliding his arousal along your entrance. You whimpered at this sensation, desperate with anticipation. “Please - fuck. Please.” He pushed himself into you, slowly filling you with every inch of his cock.

Your wrists felt like weights above your head, making it difficult as you tried to push your ass against his hips, eager to feel all of him.

“Look at you, taking me so nice on the highway. All these people watching you get fucked like the good girl you are.” You melted at the words, the feeling of every car looking at you while they drove past.

You were so exposed, so vulnerable, and so full up all at the same time. You whimpered as Jax repeatedly pelted you with thrust after thrust.

The only distraction from the fullness was the moving of his free hand grasping your hips, pulling you deeper into euphoria. Sounds began to leave your mouth as you burned from the heat radiating between your hips, you tried to bite your arm to stop from screaming.

“Don’t stop, baby girl. I want to hear you.”

You began to lose composure and your knees became weak, harder to hold yourself up against him. You were sure if it wasn’t for the grip of your wrists you wouldn’t be able to stand.

His hand left the constant pulling of your hips and moved up along your back towards your chest, feeling under your shirt. He pulled the straps of your bra exposing your tits under the buttoned up blouse, forcing them against the car. You could feel the coolness of the glass amongst your shirt, brushing against your nipples.

It was all building, the fullness of Jax inside you, the sound of tires speeding past on the freeway, the weight of his hand mounting you to the roof of then car. Tears began to stream down your face as the sensation was overwhelming, pushing you closer to your finish.

Jax was tensing and hardening his thrusts into you, motivated at the cries that escaped your lips. He continued to slide into you, deepening further each time. “Fuck, Jax”, you choked on the words. “You gonna cum all over my cock?” You could feel control slipping through your limbs and you reached your climax, “mhmm. You’re going to make me cum all fucking over you.”

His head rolled back at your words unravelling him, feeling you tighten around his cock. “Taking me so good”, and it sent him over his peak, as he loaded you generously with his liquid, now dripping from the fullness.

He collapsed into you, letting go of your wrists as they fell to your sides. His mouth was to your ear, gnawing at you, as you both came down from your high. “You know you are so fucking delicious, babe.” He grazed down your ear to your neck, planting kisses on your exposed skin.

You turned to face him, leaning your bare ass against the driver side door, placing your lips on his.

“I wonder if we have enough time to see what we can do on the inside of the death trap.” He gripped your hair with his hands, smiling against your lips as he kissed you back.

“I like your thinking, babe.”

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.” 

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

~

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing. 

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man. 

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

~

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding. 

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

~

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner. 

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

~

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip. 

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

~

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

[shibaraki]

“You two seem closer," Oikawa comments with an eyebrow raised, stirring his straw around his cocktail glass. Both he and Hajime are back for the holidays and you’re all finally having a proper reunion after years of your schedules not lining up. Makki snorts in the seat beside him.

Mattsun cannot seem to stay away from you tonight. Or any night, really. Any time you’re in his vicinity he’s pulled toward you by some invisible force that he can’t ignore.

"Now look what you've started," You groan, your bottom lip jutting out with your cheek resting against the palm of your hand. “How am I supposed to find someone to go home with if you’re hanging over me like a bad smell?”

Issei chuckles under his breath and it seeps into your skin, your body feeling warmer. He doesn’t offer a response but he looks far too proud of himself.

“Are you sure you’re not dating?” Hajime scrutinises you both with a look suspicion, nursing his sake.

"Like I would date him,” you mutter childishly, and everyone at the table glances at each other in amusement. Absolutely no one believes that.

"Yeah," Issei snorts, a teasing glint in his eye, "my arms are too small, isn’t that right? You’ve been staring at Hajis all evening”.

“So you admit that you’ve been watching me this whole time?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “m’always looking at you”. The entire table groans collectively in disgust and he throws his head back in laughter, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. He hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol yet, either.

“I can’t believe I’m still having to watch you both do this ridiculous dance years after we’ve graduated,” Tooru complains. “Like you’re one to talk,” Makki muses, eyes glancing over to Hajime before dropping his head onto Oikawa’s shoulder. Tooru hisses at him to shut up.

“It’s not even close to being a dance,” you protest with a whine. “More like harassment. I’m this close to filing a restraining order-”

Hajime laughs and almost chokes on his drink, leaving Issei to reach over and slap him on the back. Oikawa hands him a napkin with an endeared look on his face. Finally wrapping his hand around his full glass, Issei turns to grin at you mirthfully.

“You’d never do that. If I wasn’t allowed near you, who would bring you lunch?”

The giddy feeling in your chest only grows the longer his grin is directed towards you. Stupid handsome Issei.

“Nah, you guys have got to be dating,” Makki glared with an accusing finger waving between you both. “You’re just fucking with us”.

“We’re not!” You splutter at the exact same time Issei says “we are”.

Oikawa releases a dramatic sigh, looking up to the ceiling of the bar as if in prayer and you’re tempted to join him as the others cackle loudly, your face now bright red.

“Move Issei, let me out of this booth, I’m going home! You’re not funny!” You demand, trying to stand without knocking the table of drinks in front of you. Shaking his head no, appearing to be thoroughly entertained by your reaction, he reaches out to grab your hips. He swiftly pulls you in to his lap and locks his arms around you when you begin squirming away in embarrassment. “Just sit still and be good for me,” he murmurs smoothly with his head hooked over your shoulder. He doesn’t miss how your body shudders.

“Oi, don’t subject us to your weird foreplay!” Hajime fumes, knocking Oikawas fingers away from his ears when he comments about how they’ve turned pink.

“I hate you,” you grumble to the man behind you, who looks much too pleased by what he has caused. “Why can’t you just ask me out like a normal person?”

“Alright then, so go out with me,” he hums against the skin of your jaw, squeezing your waist. Frustration and arousal clash within you at once, leaving you wanting to strangle him a little.

“Fine, maybe I will,” you answer petulantly, nuzzling your cheek against his temple. Relenting in his hold you finally relax, sinking back against his chest and watching your old friends bicker amongst each other. Truthfully you had missed this, missed them, far more than you’d realised.