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#gray pinstripe suit
susoriginals · 28 days
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Vintage Gray Wool Pinstripe Blazer Skirt Suit by Peabody House Size 13/14 Only $5.99
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mensuited · 2 years
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Infernal Shadows
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.
Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.
A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!
Word count: 2655
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two
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Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.
Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.
The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.
Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.
“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.
“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.
“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.
“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.
“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.
“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.
“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.
“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.
“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.
“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.
“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.
Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.
“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.
“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”
“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.
“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.
As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.
The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.
The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.
“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.
“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.
“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.
“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.
On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.
On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.
In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.
Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.
“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.
“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.
“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.
“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.
“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.
“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.
“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.
“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.
“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.
“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.
“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.
“Well~ this should be fun.”
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gildedoak · 2 months
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Saw the exquisite overlord!Husk AU by @celestialalpacaron and caught an art bug BAAAAAAD. Next thing I knew, I was suddenly filling my Pinterest reference boards with shots of Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, Marilyn Monroe and Grace Kelly whilst listening to Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable."
Image description below the cut!
(Media: Watercolor, metallic watercolor, copic markers, glitter glue, pearl glue)
[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: The first image is a colored sketch of Husk and Angel Dust from Hazbin Hotel. Husk sits at a card table, slightly hunched forward - threateningly? - with his arms folded on the table, and his wings tucked neatly behind him. He's holding a King of Diamonds card in his right hand. He's wearing a gray pinstriped suit with dark gray lapels, golden cuffs, a gold bowtie, and a jeweled red pin.
Behind him stands a smiling Angel Dust in a metallic golden gown with diamonds encrusting the top of the bodice. He's wearing sheer golden gloves, gold eyeshadow, a pearl-studded bracelet, long diamond earrings, and an eight-layer pearl necklace while holding a golden, opera-length, cigarette holder.
They have matching rings.
The remaining images are close-ups, and the last is the initial sketch.
END IMAGE DESCRIPTION]
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sir-kuroo · 5 months
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003. 𝙈𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙈𝙄𝘿𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 • DELUSIONS
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track list • prev - next (next wk)
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What if the sexy stranger in your dreams and your seductive client at work is actually a ravishing demon determined to love you whatever it takes? Can you break through the delusions?
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incubus!kuroo, f!reader, deep pnetration, l-bombs, size kink, dacryphilia
wasn't able to write my solo drabble for kuroo's birthday but definitely not gonna miss this! I remembered a friend once told me to keep on writing even just for that one person believing in my works, I'd like to thank you for picking up this fic and believing in me. I love you. mwah mwah 💋💋
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You gripped the sheets as his big cock relentlessly rammed into you. There...There...so good aaahhh...You moaned totally enjoying the sensation. 
“Is it good? Am I making you feel good?” he asked, putting in so much effort with how he thrust in you.  
“Yes! Yes! It’s so good. You’re so good-” He ate your words, kissing you like your lips were his favorite food. 
 Your pussy throbbed, and you soon found yourself cumming again. 
Opening your eyes, you placed an arm on your forehead. You must be a very horny girl to dream of this non-stop, but you couldn’t deny liking it and not wanting it to stop.  
You sighed.  
You forgot how he looked like again. Somehow, as days passed, you felt even closer and acquainted to him...the man of your dreams. He’s so sweet but very masculine at the same time.  
Your pussy was still throbbing in a good way. You checked in between your legs and found your panties drenched. Don’t tell me...you squirted even in the dream. Your face heated up, embarrassed.  
On your way to the coffeeshop, you suddenly became more conscious, noticing that people, specifically men, were now looking at you differently. It wasn’t like this before. You were what they would call a normie, someone you would just pass by, but now you’ve been receiving odd glances. 
Having a drink in hand, you saw the old lady again. However, she seemed to be busy doing tarot reading with her makeshift table. You were tempted to approach her to ask more questions, but you’d be having a meeting with Kuroo today. 
All this time, you wanted to know if it’s really an incubus in your dreams how come you felt even better ever since? You’re supposed to be losing weight now or all drained out of energy, but you felt the opposite.  
You shook the thought away, finally reaching your office building. 
“Oh, Y/N! There you are...” A senior from the other department greeted. “Lookin’ good, huh? What’s the secret?” 
“Secret?” You looked down on yourself. You fixed yourself just the same and changed nothing.  
“Yeah, you seem to be glowing nowadays. Something’s different.” 
You’re wearing normal corporate attire, the same minimal make-up, nothing special. “I don’t know.... maybe I’m getting better sleep?” 
Well, better was an understatement. Having those lewd dreams was embarrassing but they did make you feel elevated and amazing like a heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders each morning. 
“Of course, sleep! Or...maybe you have someone?” She cooed then her eyes suddenly glanced up behind you. You looked back and saw Kuroo.  
“Morning, Y/N. Let’s go together?” he pressed the elevator button up.  
As usual, he looked so dangerous again. His dark gray pinstriped suit fit him perfectly.  
“Sure, sir. Good morning,” you greeted back. 
“Okay, I’ll leave you two alone,” your senior bade, winking at you before she walked away.  
No way! No way! No way! Your last interaction with Kuroo proved how tricky your situation was. Though you admitted having e a little crush on him, you shouldn’t get carried away. First, it’s unprofessional. Second, he gave off big fuckboy energy. 
The elevator doors opened and there’s only the two of you inside. It closed and you took in a sharp breath, which you held. It was so spacious, but he specifically chose to be so close to you. You gulped; he smelled so good—a little spicy just like his personality. His scent was drowning you and making your head all dizzy.  
“You smell good,” he leaned down and said to you with grainy voice. 
Shivers ran through your spine. You pressed your thighs together. Oh my. 
Your attention shifted to your reflection on the steel make of the elevator where you found Kuroo pinning your gaze. He tilted his head, eyes not leaving you as he breathed you in and you took in a deep inhale at the same time.  
The doors opened and you told him, “I’ll go to the restroom first.” 
You immediately splashed your face with water. Kuroo was painfully making you feel some type of way. He’s unearthing that hidden part of yourself you never thought existed. He was making you feel like a woman. A beautiful, well-desired, most-coveted woman. He’s making all your dreams a reality, but you’re a romance type of girl and not the type he wanted.  
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 
Swaying the glass in his hand, Kuroo stared at the woman from across the room. She was talking to her friends, but that was a while ago. Now, amidst the pulsing lights and the darkness of the bar, she had all her attention shifted to the mysterious man in suit fully captivated by how his gaze pierced through her while his smirk was oddly turning her on.  
She stood up and headed towards his direction as expected. It would be almost a month now since he hadn’t eaten anything else aside from you. He thought that maybe it was just a temporary syndrome as he adjusted to a new town.  
Kuroo raked his gaze from her head to toes. She’s hot, especially with that white dress hugging her body so tight. Normally, with the quality of sex he thought he’d be having with this woman, he knew he’s gonna get his fill. That’s under normal circumstances. 
“What…what’re you drinking?” she asked. 
He simply answered, “Rum and coke.” 
Dammit! He felt his stomach turning doing this.  
“Can I take a sip?”  
And he allowed her, she leaned forward and dipped. Her cleavage a free offering for him to see and lust over. She placed a hand on his thigh… 
Kuroo grimaced. 
Fuck! He knew this would happen. Appalled…he’s appalled. His body was rejecting her hand on his. Last time this happened, he couldn’t get his dick up and ended up in shame. He couldn’t even bring himself to have sex with anyone now. It’s all because of you. 
He knew that going to a bar would be a bad idea. After all, he’s not even there to bait some food but just to have a nice drink yet...his strong aura as an incubus was reeking and attracting women non-stop. 
Since he was new in town a month back and was still gathering observation, he shifted into his cat form everynight to find a home to stay at. He didn’t expect that you would be kind enough to adopt him, that he would grow fond of you and eventually would come to...love you. It sounded cringey, but right now there’s nothing more cringe-worthy than a hand of a woman on him aside from yours. 
They said once an incubus like him falls in love with someone, they could only mate with them and no one else. Kuroo didn’t know that to be true until now when his cock couldn’t stand up in around any other woman’s presence except you. 
Though his hunger could be satisfied by his nightly visits in your dreams, nothing could be having you in flesh.  
He thought that working with you would make things easier, but he was wrong. His feelings for you only got stronger in each passing day he got to spend with you, and it had been hard to control himself from not having an erection in the office when around you. 
“What’s wrong?” The woman asked, still wanting nothing but to have him in between her legs.  
You’re wrong. This is wrong. “I should go.” Kuroo stood up almost running away from the scene.  
“Wait!” He faintly heard in the background as he loosened his tie and dashed away. 
It was a breath of fresh air once he’s out. Taking in the cool wind of the night, he strolled to clear his mind.  
No, he didn’t view just as a livestock he could feed on endlessly, and it wasn’t just sex for him. Who would’ve thought that he’d fall for you while you took care of him as a pet? 
He drew a long sigh, finding himself at your apartment building. Then, finding himself outside your door. Well, true to his other form, he appeared like a stray cat finally finding his way home after days of misadventure.  
What was he even doing here? He berated himself for acting like a creep. Dragging a hand through his face, he accidentally nudged the food you left for him outside your door.  
The pet dish elicited a sound which prompted you to open the door. 
“Miste-” Your eyes widened at the sight of Kuroo welcoming you instead of your beloved cat. “Sir? What’re you...What’re you doing here?” 
I can’t stop thinking about you. “Hey...” Kuroo tried thinking of an excuse, but he couldn’t bring himself to think of any. 
“Are you drunk?” 
He swallowed. “Just a bit.” 
You sighed. “You can’t drive drunk. Do you...” you blushed. “Do you wanna come stay for a while?” 
His face heated up. “Sure.”  
You let him and he smoothly moved around your apartment much to your surprise.  
“Do you wanna have some cof-” You stopped midway, remembering... 
“You don’t have coffee,” he stated, which puzzled you. How did he know? “I mean, tea.” He continued. 
Maybe, the alcohol was messing up with his speech. You opened one of your cupboards only to discover that you placed the tea on the top shelf. You were about to get a chair to step on, but Kuroo was already behind you, reaching for the box of tea. 
“Here,” he said, giving you the item. 
“Oh...” you muttered, bemused at how keen he was.  
You prepared the tea for him while he watched your every move, reminding you of Mr. Midnight’s habit of doing the exact same thing.  
“Here,” you handed him the cup and he took an immediate sip. “So what brings you here?” 
“This one’s the nearest to the bar,” Kuroo placed the cup down. “Don’t worry I didn’t follow you around.” Not as a human. “I learned your address through the records.” 
“I see...so you sifted through my records, but don’t follow me around. That doesn’t sound creepy,” you teased. 
“Hey! I must know your address, okay? That’s just me being responsible since we always have meetings outside. Anything could happen.” 
You chuckled. “Yeah, such as you taking shelter because you can’t drive home drunk.” 
“Exactly,” he affirmed and continued, drinking his tea. 
You took a glance at the watch and noticed that it was past your bedtime. You were trying to keep yourself awake, but sleep was taking over. You were very tired for the day especially that the gala event was in a few days' time from now.  
“Thank you,” Kuroo said as he finished his tea, and he was eventually surprised to see you sleeping in front of him. He smiled and pressed your cheek with his index finger like how he usually did it with his paw back then to check if you’re asleep. 
Geez...He chortled to himself and carried you to bed. He swept away a few strands of hair from your face and couldn’t help but lay down and curl beside you. Nuzzling his nose on top of your head, he embraced you lovingly tight.
You used to hug him when he was a cat, and he missed those days when he could stay asleep beside you so close like this. How he wished he could finally have you settle in his arms? Though he wanted to pay you a visit in dreams, he’d rather bask in this moment instead, hearing your heartbeat, drowning in your scent and enveloped in your warmth. 
Your phone’s alarm rang, which woke you up from your sleep. You sat up in a rush and in disbelief. You didn’t have any dream last night. That’s odd. Even if that’s the case, however, you could feel the familiar touch lingering through your skin. It was as if he held you for real. 
Your eyes widened, recalling that Kuroo stayed over for a bit last night. You looked around but he’s no longer to be seen anywhere. 
You squashed your face in between your hands and decided to stand up.  
“Kuroo?” You called out as you headed to your arriving at your dining area, where you were surprised to discover a cooked omurice. On the surface of it, was a cat doodle made with ketchup and a note that read, Rise and Shine! 
Kuroo...you whispered his name in your head so fondly as your face split into a warm grin. 
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 
His tongue danced with yours with his arms caging you in. He’s so warm, and you felt safe wrapped around his presence.  
“Were you stressed?” he asked, a hand caressing the top of your face while his eyes conveyed so much concern. “You did a great job. You always do.” 
You cupped his face. “’Twas just a long day, but I got you, so it’s fine.” 
He smiled and kissed the tip of your nose, “Yeah, you always got me, love. Always remember that.” He caught your lips again and kissed you tenderly, lovingly and deeply. “I’m always right beside you.” 
Parting your legs, he thrust into you. Your pussy was slowly being stretched out as he took his time so you could fully feel his size. You bit back a moan as his tip finally reached your core. His hips were moving in a sensual tempo that had you wanting more.  
He saw your need and began hitting with force, your tits jiggled everytime he pushed right back in. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he dug deeper, bringing your thighs on both sides if your face, messing you up in a mating press.  
“Can you feel me? Can you feel all of me?” He asked under his breath, trying his best to curb his wilder desires and wanting to make you feel loved instead.  
“Oh! Aaaahhh....” You moaned, feeling the length of his cock go in and out of your pussy. “Yes, you’re so big. It’s so long. Feels so good.” 
“When you say it like that-” he said in pain and pounded fast. His fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he went all out not able to control his impulses anymore.  
He conquered your lips and you let yourself be consumed with passion. All you could do was shut your eyes and feel the tears of overwhelming pleasure trickle down. Your nails raked on the skin of his back as you felt like flying with the way he was fucking you senseless yet oh-so-loving at the same time. 
“I love you, I love you,” he spewed out in every thrust, and you were drunk in his tender gaze as your insides melted and your body shook. 
Slowly, your eyes opened. You could still remember his hands on you. The feel of his length inside you. You ached for him more and more each day and not only in a sexual way. That man...he always made sure you were well-fed everynight, but you wanted to remember who he was. Was he just your imagination? A person from the future? All of this seemed so bittersweet. You had a man who only existed on your dreams, and he made love with you every night like you’re the only person in his eyes.  
It’s almost a month now...You hugged yourself, feeling a little cold. At first, you thought all this was sexual, but lately you began feeling loved.  
You had many questions...like if it’s really an incubus in your dreams why did you feel even better each day? Why was he so loving to you? Why do you not only feel lust but affection each time he’d hold you close?  
You snapped away from your thoughts. You’re approaching the end of your campaign, and somehow you felt some kind of ending happening too. This meant you’d never see Kuroo again. You looked at him from across the table. This time you would be having an emergency meeting in the lobby of the hotel where the Gala Event for the project would be held next week. 
However, you were quite bothered at the thought of not seeing him anymore. 
“Why are you sad, hmm?” He asked, resting his face on his palm, breaking your thoughts in the middle of work. 
“Oh, I just remembered something-”  
Your eyes widened.  
Out of the blue, he had something soft pressed on your face. It’s...It’s a black cat plushie. He looked from behind the little stuffed toy. What’s that expression he’s giving you? Like he’s trying to be cute, sporting a small pout with cheeks a little puffed. “He'd be sad if you are too, y’know?” 
“W-What’s this, sir?”  
“All yours,” he said, plopping the plushie on the table. “Take good care of him.” 
Oh...You remembered having a discussion with him about Mr. Midnight. It’s...sweet that he remembered—that he knew how much you missed your little rascal. A smile couldn’t help but show on your face.  
“What would you name it?” he asked. 
“Kuro,” you held the plushie. “I’ll name him Kuro.” 
“I’m honored,” Kuroo the person grinned, and the moment felt like it paused for a while. Why...Why were you feeling the beat of your heart in your ears? 
Get a grip! You shouldn’t be feeling this way. Maybe...Maybe he’s just great with women, you said to yourself.  
How can a man like him even like someone like you, right? 
Your inner musings were interrupted by a hotel staff member when she approached both of you, her expression didn’t spell good news. “Excuse me, ma’am, sir. I’m the personnel assigned for banquet sales. Unfortunately, we found your event booked on a different date on our calendar.”  
“What? We already signed an agreement for this with that exact date indicated,” you replied, conviction evident on your tone.  
“Yes, ma’am. We’re very sorry, but there’s been a mistake.” 
“We already sent out the invitations,” you said, a little infuriated. It would be a shame on your part to deliver a mistaken message to the delegates, especially that the event would be next week, and the suppliers were already booked for the date. 
“My apologies, ma’am. We can schedule your event some other dates or refund you in full.” 
You heaved and fetched the contract in your phone, rereading the agreement despite knowing the outcome. It’s a loss case. It’s written there that the establishment reserved the right to refuse, and you knew all of them had that clause, because the agreement will always be in favor of the contracting party. 
“Do you have any other function halls available on our date?” Kuroo stepped in. 
The lady checked her files and informed, “Unfortunately sir, the only available room couldn’t accommodate your number of guests.” 
“How ‘bout that...” He pointed at one of the dining halls. “Will that be available on our date?” 
“I’ll double check, sir. Please wait here for a while,” said the staff member before she went to check. 
“That’s...That’s expensive,” you worriedly informed Kuroo. 
He placed a hand on your shoulder and grinned, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.” 
Your eyes searched his. His tone...The way he made you feel so secure...It’s like de ja vu. Who...Who are you?  The question suddenly came to the top of your mind, however before you could make more sense of it, the personnel arrived. 
“Good news, ma’am and sir. The Wine Room was still not taken. We can reserve it for you at a discounted price as our way to compensate for the mistake we made on your original booking.” 
“That’s good then!” Kuroo turned to you and winked. You smiled at him, unplanned and involuntarily.  
Why did he have to be like this? Why was Kuroo making you feel like he might also feel the same way you’re starting to feel for him? 
You hugged the Kuro plushie close. Suddenly, you felt a bit scared, scared that after all of this was done, you were never going to see him again.  
TAG LIST: Get tagged on the latest release. Leave a 😈emoji on the reply section or on my ASK.
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© sir-kuroo 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.
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airoarts · 2 years
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[Image description: A digital drawing of a character who is a fusion of several different Tumblr Sexymen. He is tall and thin, standing with his hand on his hip, with purple skin, cat ears, and a cat tail, Komaeda-esque wispy white hair, a permanent smile with sharp yellow teeth, and one blue-and-yellow eye with a black sclera. He has red dots on his cheeks and skeleton feet. He is wearing a navy-and-red train conductor cap; large glasses tinted pink on one lens and yellow on the other; a gray suitcoat that splits into two near the end, with a yellow pyramid pattern on the inside; green elbow-length gloves; pinstriped black-and-green pants that are cut at the mid-calf; a white dress shirt that is layered and trimmed with lavender at the bottom, with a thin brown belt visible; a lavender tie; and pink fluffy slippers. He also wears a yellow strap around his shoulder and torso, and has a fluffy pink truffula pin and a badge on his suit that looks like a blue clock. He is holding a red scepter with an eye pattern in the middle. The background is a pale peach-pink color. End ID]
i decided to revisit the idea i had several years ago of a tumblr sexyman fusion, a post that got pretty popular at the time, since there are now different sexymen who are popular and also the concept of tumblr sexyman has been built upon significantly.
this is a fusion of sans, the onceler, reigen, tony the talking clock (based on aishaneko’s classic humanization), bill cipher, raymond, ingo, spamton, purple guy, komaeda, and alastor. can u spot the design elements from each one?
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lemony-and-zesty · 3 months
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Omg not another drabble for hitman!JD :]
This one’s for you especially @elijah-doodle ;)) Since you wanted to know and all :)
Silly side note cause I thought it was funny but this is titled “The one that got away” in my drafts 😭😭
———————
The small apartment John Dory found himself living in was pretty peaceful, all things considered. Especially this early in the morning. JD was fast asleep in that slab of concrete he called a bed, finally having managed to pass out a couple hours ago.
There was a sudden, loud knock on the door.
“Hey! Git up! Boss wants ta see ya.”
John Dory groans, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“C’mon kid, he ain’t gonna wait long.”
He crawled out of bed, rubbing a hand down his face before huffing out an, “Alright, alright. Gimme a minute.”
The voice at the door seemed appeased at this, and JD could hear his footsteps fading.
Stupid.
He took his time getting ready, it really was too early for this.
After sliding on his coat and goggles, he yanked the door open. He wasn’t surprised to see the other troll hadn’t gone far.
He gave JD a sharp nod, “Good. C’mon kid.”
JD held his tongue at that.
He let the other man lead him, despite knowing the way like the back of his hand. Best not to start a fight over something stupid.
They left the apartment building off into a back alley.
JD shoved his hands into his pockets and let his mind stray for a bit. As per usual, he found himself thinking about his brothers. He can’t help but wonder what they’d be up to now. Shit, how old would they be again?
He starts trying to add it up in his head, counting it out with his fingers.
It’s been, what? 10, no 15 years? Maybe? He couldn’t be sure until he got a glimpse at a calendar.
His mind continued to wander for a bit before he’s suddenly jolted out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder.
Reacting quickly, he spins around and sweeps the assailant’s legs. They tumble to the ground with a, “Aw SHIT-“
JD unsheathes the spikes on his glove’s knuckle, preparing to strike the person before coming to a dead stop.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
“-HELL kid, the fck’r ya doin!”
JD stumbles back, his hands going to his coat. He brushes at it, not just trying to play it off but also to soothe his shaking hands, “Sorry. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
The man who’d been walking him glared up at him - partly out of shock, partly out of fury. After a moment he shakes his head, “Whatever kid.”
JD snarls at that, “For the love of- Stop. calling. me-“
The door behind JD slams open, “Ah! Johnny! You’re right on time.”
A stocky pale yellow troll with golden, slicked back hair dressed in a gray pinstripe suit sets his hands on JD’s shoulders turning him around and lightly shoving him into the room he’d just burst out of, “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
He kicks the door shut behind them, not sparing the man another glance.
He leads JD to his desk, his grip tightening on his shoulders before releasing him altogether.
“B-Boss I can explain-“
He holds a hand up to silence him as he rounds the desk and takes a seat, “No need. It’s not my business what you get up to outside of work. As long as you don’t kill any of my employees, I couldn’t care less.”
JD gulps, once again rubbing his hands against his coat.
“Now, what is my business is, well, my business. So,” He reaches into a drawer, pulling out a slip of paper - his next hit, JD assumes - and sliding it across the desk for him to look at, “Let’s talk business.”
John Dory freezes the instant his eyes see the paper. No, not paper. The poster. It was a poster for a concert for an up and coming solo artist.
No. No no no no no.
Staring back up at him were the eyes of a troll he hadn’t seen in 15 or so years.
No. Anything but this. Please.
Staring up at him was none other than Floyd. His baby brother.
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crazyunsexycool · 1 year
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My little love
Chapter 15
Pairing: Bucky x enhanced reader
Word count: 2.4k
Warning: fluff, little bit of sad Henry, ending with angst because you should know better by now
A/N: are y’all ready for this one? Also I realized that I’ve written Lottie’s personality similar to 40s Bucky and Henry’s personality similar to post hydra Bucky.
Series masterlist
Ch 14
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There was nothing about this mission that you liked. Not the fifteen hour flight or getting off the jet and heading right into the fight or the fact that every time you’ve been away from Bucky something horrible happens. Add to that the fact you didn’t want to be away from the kids in the first place or that you couldn’t say goodbye because they were asleep. At least this mission wasn’t related to hydra.
You had everything you needed in a duffle by your feet. Bucky stood beside you by the door. His hands on your hips as he pulled you in closer to him. He kisses you softly, still half asleep.
“Remember the rules.” He says.
“Kick ass. Be careful. And come back home in one piece.” You repeat, chuckling softly as you say them.
“That’s right.”
“Give the kids kisses from me.”
Bucky perked up for a moment. “Do it yourself.”
A still sleepy Lottie walks into the living room. She was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Her newly grown but still short hair sticking up at weird angles. She had on princess pajamas and was holding on to her teddy.
“Mama.” She sighs when she sees you in your uniform. You get down on one knee and open your arms for her. Lottie walks over to you and immediately rests her head on your chest and you stand.
“Hi my sweet Angel.” You peppered kisses on her forehead. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”
“And bubba?”
“Of course I’m gonna miss bubba.”
“And dada?”
“I’m really gonna miss dada.”
“And Steeb?” She giggled sleepily.
“Ok silly girl. I’ll miss Steve too. Love you sweet Angel.” You give her one last kiss before handing her over to Bucky and then you kiss him one last time too. “Give Henry-“
“Some hugs and kisses, I will. Now go before Nat comes up here and drags you to the jet.”
“Ok, bye. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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To say Henry was upset when he woke up a few hours later and discovered you were gone was an understatement. He had asked for you over and over again. It took a lot of cuddles, patience and convincing on Bucky’s part to get Henry to calm down. He thought you’d left for good and he wasn’t fully convinced that you would come back. That he wouldn’t see you again and that had put him on edge. After that he stayed close to Lottie and wouldn’t let her leave his sight.
“Hey bubs, wanna watch Toy Story?” Bucky asked from the doorway to Lottie’s room. Both kids were in there playing and Bucky couldn’t get Henry to come out.
“I want mama.”
“Mama home?” Lottie stopped what she was doing to look up hoping to spot you at the door.
“No, mama is not home yet. How about going outside?”
Henry shook his head and looked back down at the cars he was playing with. Bucky’s chest tightened looking at the sadness in his son’s eyes. Neither of you had really thought that he might be affected by the sudden absence of one of his parents. Bucky knew he couldn’t call you since you were on a no contact mission.
“I’ll be right back and then we’ll do something fun.” Bucky was on a mission of his own now. He’d have to cheer up his son alone. Better yet with the help of a few uncles.
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About an hour later the Barnes trio were dressed in their swimsuits. Bucky wore a plain gray t-shirt and black swim trunks, Henry wore a white t-shirt with some multicolored striped swim trunks and leading the pack was Lottie. She wore a white and light blue pinstriped one piece suit with big multicolored polka dots that kind of matched Henry’s trunks. She also wore pink framed sunglasses even if they weren’t leaving the building and some jean shorts. The flip flops she wore smacked against the floor with every step she took getting the attention of any passing agent or trainee. She definitely had the most outgoing personality out of the three because she waved and smiled back at everyone.
Once they finally got to the compound’s pool, Steve and Sam were there waiting. They had been out when Bucky had texted and now they had all kinds of pool games and floaties for the kids to use. Lottie rushed into Steve’s arms before giving Sam his own hug while Henry stayed close to Bucky.
“Alright bubs, what do you think?”
Henry just shrugged his shoulders. Bucky got down on one knee so that he could be eye level with his son.
“Tell me what’s going on?”
“I miss mama.” Henry whispered.
“I know you’re sad mom isn’t here and I know she misses you too. But she’s only going to be gone for a little bit longer and then she’ll be back and I’m sure she’s going to give you all of the cuddles and kisses she’s missed.”
“So she didn’t leave because of me?”
“Is that what you think Henry? That mom left because of you?”
Henry nods and looks at the floor.
“She didn’t leave because of you. She left because she had a mission. There are people that are being hurt by bad guys and she wants to help them. But she’s going to come back real soon so why don’t we go play in the pool and that way you have something to tell her about?”
“Ok.” Henry smiles for the first time that day.
“Ok.” Bucky looks over to where Sam, Lottie and Steve were at then looks back at his son. “Seems like Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam bought some toys. Wanna go check them out?”
Henry nodded with a new sense of excitement and grabbed Bucky’s hand. He ran in the direction of his uncles and sister. It didn’t take long for the five of them to get into the pool. Lottie opted to lounge on a unicorn floatie that Steve kept close to him. It was no real shock that Henry could swim but Bucky decided not to think about how he was trained. He was a fast swimmer too. After warming up to the idea of being in the pool he actually started to enjoy himself. Henry also started to have conversations and games with Sam and Steve. It was the first time he willingly interacted with anyone other than you, Bucky or Lottie.
After a while Lottie also went into the water and although she couldn’t swim she was having the time of her life. She especially loved to hold on to Sam while he bobbed around the pool. He would hold her out at arms length and let her kick around. Bucky made sure to take plenty of pictures and videos for you. Especially of Henry just laughing and having fun.
After a few hours of swimming Bucky got the kids up to the apartment to shower and change into something comfortable.
“What do we do now?” Henry asked as he sat on the couch and pulled Lottie to his side.
“Well Uncle Sam is bringing dinner and we can watch a movie after.”
“Or we can make your mama a surprise.” Steve adds and Henry smiles at that.
“What kind of surprise?”
“What if we paint something for her? I bet she’d love that.”
“Can we daddy?”
“Yeah bubs, you guys can do that but after dinner.”
“Ok.” Henry said and settled down, both him and Lottie fell asleep quickly while cuddled up on the couch.
Bucky made sure to take a picture of that too.
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“Daddy?” Henry’s fear riddled voice filled the quiet of your shared bedroom with Bucky. He sat up quickly ready to attack whoever was there.
“Henry? Bub what’s wrong?” He asked once he realized it was only his son and a sleepy Charlotte at the door. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“No, baby did.” he sniffled. “But she cried and it scareded me. Can we stay here?”
“Of course bub come on.”
Henry walked further into the room and picked Lottie up to place her on the bed. She crawled closer to Bucky and plopped down on the pillow. Her cheeks and lashes were still wet with tears. Henry however rounded the bed to Bucky’s side and waited until Bucky picked him up.
“Did it upset you to see her cry?”
“Yeah. I don’t like to see her sad.” Henry said as he leaned into Bucky’s chest. Lottie decided to snuggle into his side.
Although they were in his room because they were sad, nothing made Bucky happier than knowing his kids felt safe with him. The only thing that could make it better would be having you there. But just like the kids he would have to wait until you came back.
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The mission had been a complete failure. The information you had been given was in fact a half truth that Shield didn’t have time to verify. It left you, Nat and Thor walking in blind and being ambushed. The reason for the surprise attack was still unknown but you were furious. All you wanted was to go home, shower and take a nap.
Once the jet landed you were the first one off the jet and informing Fury that you would debrief whenever you felt like it. The apartment was quiet and you were surprised that no one was still awake. You checked the kids room and it was empty and for just a moment you felt like you couldn’t breathe. A sigh of relief left your lips when you opened your bedroom door to find Lottie in your spot and Henry sleeping on top of an also sleeping Bucky. His eyes flutter open and he looks right at you. A smile forms on Bucky’s lips and you make your way to his side of the bed.
“Good morning.” You whisper before you kiss him quickly.
“Morning.”
Henry stirred against Bucky’s chest.
“Is mama home?” He asked while keeping his eyes closed.
“I am, sweet boy. And I missed you so much.”
Your voice was enough to wake him up. He looked up at you and smiled. You leaned down and kissed his forehead before nuzzling your nose against his cheek. Henry shuffled off of Bucky and wrapped his arms around your midsection and squeezed before you were able to stop him. You gasped from the pain to your ribs and Henry tensed and let go of you.
“Mama?” He asked, fear evident in his voice. “I’m sorry mama. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s ok,” you took a few quick breaths until the pain subsided. “You didn’t know.” You take another breath. “A bad man hurt me, baby. Not you.”
“What happened?”
“Got kicked in the ribs. It’s nothing serious.”
“Are you sure?” Bucky looked at you with concern.
“Yeah-“
“Mama?” Lottie’s sleepy voice interrupts you.
“Good morning sweet Angel.”
Lottie sat up and smiled at you while rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.
“Mama home.”
“I am.” You walked around and leaned over into the bed and kissed her cheek. Her little arms wrap around your head and you feel her kiss your forehead.
“I’m going to take a shower really quickly and I’ll be out.”
“We’ll start breakfast, right Henry?”
He looked up at you still full of worry but then nodded.
“Lottie and I have a surprise for you.”
“Really?” You smile brightly at him. “Can I get a hint?”
Henry shakes his head and then smiles.
“Ok well then I’m going to shower and then I’ll be out for breakfast and my surprise.”
Henry was practically buzzing with excitement and he tugged on his father’s arm in order to go out and head to the kitchen. Lottie blinked owlishly at the door and then at you trying to figure out what to do next before she dived back into bed.
“Night night mama.”
You laughed as she moved around and found a comfortable position. After giving her one more quick kiss you head to the bathroom.
You peel off your uniform, it was disgusting from sweat. The kick to the ribs was hurting more now that you had removed the Kevlar. A wave of nausea hits you immediately and the room begins to spin. After taking a few breaths you look at yourself in the mirror and gasp. There in the area where you had been kicked was a circular imprint on your skin. There was also some type of liquid that spread out from the imprint. Whatever it was, was spreading fast, the color was a stark contrast against your skin so there was no way you could miss it. The closer it got to your lung the more difficulty you had breathing and you were trying not to panic.
You felt consciousness slipping away from you and in your last few seconds you called out a 911 to Friday. Then you slipped and fell to the floor of the bathroom.
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“Why is mama taking so long? Can I go get her?” Henry asked from his chair at the table.
“Give her some time bubs. She just wants to relax a bit.”
There’s a pounding on the door of the apartment enough to startle Bucky and Henry. Lottie walks out crying from the bedroom at the same time.
“Mama.” She cried out and Bucky’s heart almost beat out of his chest.
There’s another furious knock at the door before it opens and Bucky is quickly grabbing a knife to defend his kids with.
“Y/N? Are you here?” Ivy, one of the nurses from the medbay, calls out. “Y/N?”
Bucky puts the knife down and heads to the living room while Henry comforts Lottie. Both of them walk back into your bedroom.
“Ivy what’s wrong?” Bucky asks as he sees the team behind her.
“We got a 911 from Friday.”
“Daddy it’s mama.” Henry yells. “She’s on the floor.”
Bucky leaves the living room and heads toward the ensuite with Ivy following. He finds you just as Henry said, on the floor and you’re unconscious. Ivy pushes past him and Bucky has just a second to grab both kids before the rest of the medical team rushes in.
The three of them watch as the team works around you. With every passing second Bucky feels like his world is crumbling around him. What had happened and why hadn’t he noticed? Lottie whimpers into his shoulder and Henry holds on tighter to Bucky’s waist.
“I can barely get a pulse.” Ivy mutters. “We need to move her fast.” She says as they connect you to a portable heart monitor.
“We’re losing her.”
Ch 16
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fox-guardian · 1 year
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[ID: Digital drawings of Jekyll and Hyde characters as furries on a gray background. The first image is of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and they are each labelled as such. Dr. Jekyll is a thin sheep with curly white hair and wool and his face, hands, and feet are black. He has blonde sideburns and a goatee. He is wearing a white suit with a tailcoat with champagne colored lapels and cuffs, a pale yellow vest, a high-collared white shirt with a black bow-tie, and circular gold glasses. His short tail sticks out from between his coattails. Mr. Hyde is a much shorter black wolf with the skull structure of a sheep. His hair is black, curly, and wild, with a huge cowlick curling over his head. His eyes are a pale green with slit pupils and purple eyeshadow, his teeth are long and sharp, his claws are pale green with purple paw-pads, and his tail is long, fluffy and ragged, ending in a curl. He is wearing a purple high-collared shirt, a white cravat with a pale green fastener, a pale green patterned vest, black trousers, and pale green spats with purple buttons over his feet paws, and he holds a black and silver cane. Jekyll is standing with a surprised expression, 3-fingered hoof-hand near his mouth, looking to the side, while Hyde is hunched with a wide stance, bearing his teeth and claws, arms spread wide, looking slyly at the viewer.
The second image shows Mr. Utterson and Dr. Lanyon. Mr. Utterson is a short, fat, gray, British Shorthair cat wearing a shirt, vest, tie, pinstriped trousers, and spats over his paws, all in shades of muted blue. He is standing with a tired expression, looking slightly downward, holding a blue and silver cane. Dr. Lanyon is a tall, sturdily-built horse with red and white fur and a short blonde mane and tail, sideburns, and mustache. His hooves are gold, and he is wearing rectangular glasses, a pale pink high-collared shirt, a pink cravat, brown suspenders and trousers, and red lace-up spats. He is smiling and holding his suspenders with his pinkies out. His hands are 5-fingered with hoof-like ends.
The third image shows Jekyll and Lanyon physically butting heads, staring angrily at each other, with Utterson beneath them, lifting a finger and nervously saying "Gentlemen, please...." Utterson's paw beans are pink. end ID]
~~~~
FINALLY the SECRET FURRIES are REVEALED!! gaze upon my gay victorian men
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cody-paranatural · 5 months
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Ok, so not like it wasn't already clear why Cody was pissed at Hijack, but I just realised the whole "gaining control over Jeff's body without his consent to hurt somebody as a misguided way to help Jeff but really to fulfill Hijack's plan" must have hit reaaally close to home. You see, there is this psychological phenomenon called projecten-
HELLO ANON I NEED YOU TO KNOW THAT SEEING THIS ASK LITERALLY MADE ME WANT TO START EATING CONCRETE /POS 
THIS RESPONSE IS GOING TO BE ALL OVER THE PLACE AND WAY TOO LONG SO SORRY IN ADVANCE <3
And you are so right!!!!!! Like obviously, Cody would’ve gotten mad about Hijack targeting his best friend no matter what his ability was, but the fact that he literally took control over his body and forced him to do things he never would’ve done on his own definitely hit close to home. I thought there was no way his dad’s ability to literally take away his free will didn’t mess with Cody’s head since I’ve first read his and Davy’s chapter 5 argument, but these last 3 updates really showed the extent of his father’s abuse on his psyche and I personally have been LOVING going back and rereading Cody’s previous appearances with all of this new context in mind. And like even without the fact that Cody literally can’t disobey his father’s commands, Cody is very much someone who has never been allowed to show any kind of individuality. There are so many little ways in which Davy takes away Cody’s autonomy and disregards his personhood.
It drives me crazyyyyy. Davy in general is the kind of person who is far too egotistical and self-absorbed to ever really think about people beyond the role he assigned them to, all he sees is how they relate to him. And no one knows that better than Cody! Because there is no one Davy desires to control more than Cody. Remember chapter 8 page 1? The one thing that finally made Davy’s mask slip, the one thing that actually got to him was Max saying that Cody is nothing like him. Davy was pissed that someone dared to imply that Cody was anything but his miniature copy. Cody is literally not allowed to have any privacy, to have anything beyond what his father wants for him. He can’t even get out of the house on his own (and hearing him say he has guards was soooo vindicating I knew i had a good reason to pay so much attention to “something about strict orders not to mention it to Davy’s son when on protective detail” from chapter 7 page 62), he’s not allowed to carry his own money, he literally owns a copy of Davy’s signature gray pinstripe suit, hell even his hair looks So Much like his dad’s (ESPECIALLY when he was younger) there’s no way that isn’t a dad approved haircut. He doesn’t even have any privacy in his own body because his dad can literally feel his heartbeat (and the fact that’s not something Cody himself can’t do, that this happened when Cody was so young he doesn’t even remember ever feeling it is so. Oh Davy Jones there is a special place in hell with your name on it).
 His room doesn’t even have a window. And I know this is the vampire house, but the fact that we learned this information in the same sentence where his room was described as having “no single such escape route” and now with the added context that he wants to run away from home is making this information very upsetting to me. So yeah, Hijack’s power is definitely a sore spot for Cody and it’s why I’m so happy we finally got to see these two (or well. three) interact!!!! And it’s everything I ever wanted and so much more. And I looooove that despise this mostly friendly demeanor Cody made it very clear that he’s still mad about what happened with Jeff and that he very much does not consider Hijack to be his friend (“So thanks for not being one, I guess!”). And that the one time Cody came off as genuinely threatening and malicious was when Right Hijack refused to leave (the right side of) his body (I have soooo many thoughts about that scene btw. And about Cody’s overall opinion of himself and his morality I have thought about this often and elaborately).
But even then, Cody did seem to be more outwardly angry about Hijack doing this to Jeff then him. Cody is on some level used to this. He doesn’t accept it, he’s not resigned to his fate as evidenced by him wanting to run away from home but this has been his life for the past 12 years, but it probably hurt so much to see someone he loves going through something he’s so familiar with. Especially when you consider that Cody, much like Davy (though obviously not to such an unhealthy degree), is very protective of the people he cares about and seems to have a strong desire to be in control (possibly stemming from the complete lack of control he has over his own life?). Sorry, I know I’ve been rambling but I love talking about pnat and especially Cody <3
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susoriginals · 4 months
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Vintage Gray Wool Pinstripe Blazer Skirt Suit by Peabody House Size 13/14 Only $5.99
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rawritzrobin · 1 year
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The Waynes (Teaser)
Title: The Waynes
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Warnings: Fighting. unwanted advances, nothing too crazy for this teaser at least.
Summary: A quick teaser I threw together last night after spending a week thinking about the Batfamily as a rich gangster family who runs Gotham. There is surely more to come. 
Masterlist
Introductions
“Do you see the girl sitting at the bar?” Dick said in a hushed whisper. 
“Yeah, what about her?”
“That’s Y/N.”
“Wait what?!” Tim said, turning to face the bar.
You could feel a number of eyes on you. You wanted to wait outside, but you knew Jason would be furious if you waited outside by yourself. It was Gotham after all. You shivered slightly when a breeze came through as someone came into the club from the front door. You wrapped your arms around yourself as a man stood next to you. Even without looking at him, you knew he was watching you. You didn’t acknowledge his presence, but the man didn’t seem to care as you felt an arm wrap around your waist. 
“Hey beautiful. You new around here? Never seen you before. You want a drink?” He said, leaning closer to you. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. This was clearly not the first bar he had been to tonight. 
Just as you were about to say no, his arm was yanked off of your waist, and in an instant, the man was on the floor. He was clutching his face as if he was struck by something. You could see the bartender tense as he looked behind you. 
“Get him out of here before Jason finds out.” A voice from behind you said.
Before the man even had a chance to get to his feet, a group of men grabbed him by each arm, and practically dragged him out of the club. They stopped as a younger boy, who y/n noticed was standing by the entrance when she got here, raised his hand. The boy glared down at the man, before punching him hard in the face. You could hear the sickening crack echo through the room through the music. 
The boy looked down at the now terrified man and said loud enough for you to hear, “You're lucky it was us and not him. Stay out of this neighborhood, or next time you will be leaving in a body bag.” As he finished his sentence, he gave the man another kick in his legs for good measure. You turned away as he looked over in your direction.
As you turned back, another man sat next to you. You noticed the bartender was unfazed by what just happened. 
“Sorry about that. People like him normally don’t frequent The Cave.” A voice next to you said.
You turned to see a very handsome man sitting next to you. His hair was slightly long, but it was just long enough to frame his perfect features. His dashing blue eyes looked apologetic. He was wearing a blue tie that was tucked into his gray vest. There was not a wrinkle in sight. 
“But don’t worry. We’ll take care of it. You’ll never see him again.” Another voice said from your left this time.          
You turned to face a younger man. He was a tad bit shorter than the man on your opposite side, but he was still taller than you were. His hair was even longer, bangs framing his face nicely. He seemed a bit more nervous than the other man. His fit was more formal. He had on a full pinstripe suit with a red, a black striped tie, and a fedora.
You were about to open your mouth, when a woman’s voice broke the silence first. 
“Wow, good thing the meeting ran long. Or we would have to close early again.”
“Yeah, if Jason saw that, we would have another mess on our hands.”
You turned around to see three girls behind you. There was a blonde who smiled mischievously at you, a girl with short pixie hair that eyed you suspiciously, and the girl in the middle in a wheelchair who smiled at you like she knew you.
It was at this moment that you realized you were surrounded by a group of people who seemed to know exactly who you were.
The loud slam of a door near the back of the bar brought  all of the eyes that were previously on you, to the tall figure who slammed said door. His eyes quickly scanned the room, and his shoulders relaxed when his eyes landed on you.
In a few quick strides, he was next to you. You suddenly realized, the group of young men and women surrounding you were now all sitting together on the opposite side of the room. 
“I’m so sorry Y/N.” He said, slightly out of breath. Jason’s hair was a tiny bit disheveled and his tie was undone. He looked down at the floor and noticed a few tiny blood spatters on the floor. His gaze floated over to where Damian was standing. Damian scoffed, and walked towards the table with the rest of the gang. 
You smiled as you hopped off the barstool. “No, it's fine! I get it. Work stuff.” You said, shaking your head with a laugh.
Jason’s mood instantly shifted as he saw your smile. “You ready?” He asked.
You nodded, and he wrapped his arms around your frame, and started to walk towards the private exit.
As you two made your way out of the club, Jason could feel eyes on him. He turned around to see his siblings all watching him with devious smiles. He merely glared at them, and opened the door for you both. 
“She's cute.” Steph said.
“A bit out of his league yeah?” Tim asked. 
“Common guys. Let him have this.” Dick said, trying his best to gain the group's attention. He would surely interrogate Jason once he returned home that night. 
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saltsicklover · 8 months
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Part Three
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Part Three is here and this is where shit really starts to get angsty. So much love for this chapter, honestly. Enjoy!!
Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3400+
Rating: R
Warnings: Smoking, Rude Bob, Drinking/Drunkeness, mentions of sex, swearing, pocket knife, once again Rude AF Bobby Floyd
Second Chance Romance!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.
I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.
---
The gym was decorated to the nines, streamers and balloons, flashing lights and a DJ booth. There were tables scattered around the perimeter, leaving most of the floor open for dancing. The room was abuzz with energy, girls dragging their dates to the dance floor. 
Bob didn't have a date. It wasn't that he couldn't get one, it was more the point that he didn't want to deal with all the expectations that came with having one. The sex at the end of the night he could've gotten behind, it was all the stuff before it that he had a problem with. The dinner date before hand, then being attached at the hip for the rest of the night. The slow dances that he would've had to take part in and the sitting through conversations that never seemed to interest him in the first place seemed like the absolute last thing he wanted to find himself doing.
His suit fit well, of course it did. His parents had enough money for things like that. The gray dress shirt complimented the gray pinstripes of the black suit that clung to his frame. His shoes were shined and his tie was straight. He looked good, and the girls were sure to tell him he did. 
But soon the warmth of the gym was getting to him, sweat beading around his forehead. The music was loud and the headache blooming behind his eyes made sure he knew. He excused himself from Gene who was busy scoping out the lone girls on the other side of the gym and headed for the back of the school, looking to get a breath of fresh air. 
"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone was out here," Bob held an unlit Cigarillo between his fingers, slipping a small silver case into his back pocket. He tucks the smoke behind his ear, leaving it unlit as he steps further out of the school. 
The words left his mouth before he could even think. Bob's eyes caught the one girl he really wasn't expecting to see tonight, Duchenne. She was dressed in a beautiful maroon dress, the thin straps showing off her shoulders. The skirt of her dress was piled around her upper thighs, her legs sticking out into the grass. She wore sneakers, the sight of which caused Bob to chuckle a bit to himself. 
"It's fine, Bertie, I was just going in," Duchenne pushes herself to stand, brushing her hands off on the skirt of her dress. That nickname again- he hated it. She sounded more exhausted than inconvenienced. 
"You don't have to leave on my account," Bob speaks, moving towards the spot next to her, "Seriously, it's okay. We can sit here like adults." She rolls her eyes but sits down, not wanting to fight it out, but also not wanting to return to the dance yet. She feels a little tipsy, her body swaying a bit as she moves. 
"What are you doing out here?" Bob asks, his voice soft, kind.  It sounds just how she remembered it did when they first met. It melts her heart a bit. He almost asked 'What are you doing here', but caught himself. It shouldn't have seemed so improbable that a beautiful girl like her would be at the dance. He leans back a bit, pulling his things, his keys, wallet, a silver cigarette case, and pocket knife from his pockets. He throws them into a pile on the grass next to him before leaning back on his hands. 
"I just couldn't deal with all the heat and the noise and the grinding," She giggling, playing with the fabric of her skirt. Bob laughs right along with her. "Why are you out here?" 
"I just needed a minute, these things aren't my style," He confesses with a shrug. 
"Ha, right. Not your style, whatever you say, Bertie," She rolls her eyes, a smile still playing on her lips. Since when was a room full of well dressed and half desperate girls not Bob Floyd's style? Duchenne leans over to grab the silver case from the pile of Bob's things. She flips the lid, bringing it up to her nose and takes a deep inhale. The full scent of the tobacco causes a warm feeling to spread throughout her chest. 
Bob watches her carefully as she sniffs the smokes. His brows are furrowed a bit, but a smirk spreads over his lips as she squeezes her eyes tight, breathing in deeply once more. Finally, Duchenne closes the case with a metallic click before placing it back into the pile of his things. 
"Why do you call me that?" He asks her after a beat of silence. There is tension in his voice. She narrows her brows at him, trying to cover up the fact that she is thinking whether or not to tell him the truth. 
"I don't know... Ah fuck it," She whispers to herself before continuing, facing him more head on, "I didn't always call you that, you know, I guess I just wanted to get under your skin. I wanted you to feel the way you made me feel. I know its selfish and petty, but there's this part of me that is still that girl from freshman year who thought we had a chance at being friends before you went and made the swim team and fucked it all up." The words spill from her lips so fast she doesn't even realize she is saying them, all of the things she has wanted to say to him for years. She put all of the blame on his shoulders- he couldn't blame her for it either. She hadn't changed, it was him who had. 
"I always liked you, Bob, I still do. Or maybe I like the guy I met a couple of years ago, the same one who helped file papers in the office with me during study hall for extra credit, the same guy who shared his lunches with people who forgot theirs. The sweet, helpful boy that I so wanted to be friends with because you were just so good. I wanted to be that good, and then those damn teammates of yours got into your head and turned you into a dick,"
Bob takes in each and every word, letting them run right through him. It hurts his heart to know that the girl he has always thought was so good thought he was too, key word, was. He wants to defend himself, but not only does he not deserve it, he can't find the words to even begin. He sits there, staring at her, mouth opening and closing. 
"I think I might be a little drunk," She speaks again, her voice quiet on the wind.
"Johnny spiked the punch," 
"Ah, yeah, then I'm very drunk," She giggles to herself, "So drunk that I can admit to myself that I still like you, even if you have been nothing but mean to me. Maybe it's because I think I deserve it, every word, every mean thing you have ever said to me. And maybe it's the alcohol or the self deprecation, but God I want to kiss you," 
Bob's blood runs cold then molten. He couldn't have possibly heard her right. Duchenne wants to kiss him? 
"I wouldn't stop you," He whispers, leaning ever so closer to her. There is still a good foot between them, and he isn't planning on pushing his luck. 
"Of course you wouldn't. Men like you will fuck anything that moves if given the chance," She bites her lip, looking at him half lidded eyes. The comment stings Bob, burning right into his chest. "Help me up, would you? I've gotta get back in there," 
Bob doesn't say a word, instead, he climbs to his feet before taking his hands in hers, pulling her up from the grass below. He tries not to think about how soft her hands are in his, or the way she looks at him, her eyes glimmering. They are so close now, and he could lean in, steal that kiss that they both want, but he doesn't. He can't get himself to. Instead, he drops her hands, offering her a lopsided smile. 
"Goodnight, Bobby," She leans in with a whisper, a smirk on her beautifully glossed lips. The nickname sends a pleasant chill down his spine. He wishes she would've called him that from the beginning; that she would call him that for the rest of forever. 
"Goodnight," He whispers back, his eyes closed tight. He is doing everything in his power to not reach for her, to not pull her body into his and kiss her. Bob knows damn well he doesn't deserve the pleasure of kissing her. 
She moves to the open door, grabbing onto the jamb. With a deep inhale, she turns to see Bob with his eyes still closed tightly, one hand running through his hair. The long locks tangle in his fingers, she wishes it were her hands instead. He mumbles something to himself, something she can't make out. 
"Hey, Bobby," Her voice comes out a little sing-song-y. Bob savers the way it floods over his skin. He lets the sound seep deep into his bones; he swears he could live of it that nickname alone. So, he saves the memory deep within his chest, in the white warmth there. It fits perfect next to the image of her in math class, the one with her tongue out, large golden frames on her face. 
"Yeah?" Is the only thing he can muster, the nickname thrumming through him. The moment his eyes open, she already moving, barreling towards him. She slams her body into his, arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. He stumbles backwards from the force of her body, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as they both fall into a heap on the grass. 
None of it was graceful or beautiful. Their relationship up until that point was too tumultuous. It was all crashing waves and thunder, electricity under their skin like lightening. Everything between them burned, lips covered in gasoline, all consuming and red hot. 
Four years of pent up aggression and hidden feelings come together into one searing kiss that leaves them both breathless and blushing. They fit together in the way bodies should, his palms against the expanse of her waist, fingers reaching to encapsulate as much of her as he can. Her knees rest on either side of his hips, caging him down. 
"What the hell was that?" He chuckles, holding her body tightly on top of his own. Between the kiss, the fall, and the way his hands are holding tightly to her waist, his head spins a bit. The moon above him the only thing he can focus on for a moment, that, and the way he can feel someone's heartbeat against his chest. At this point, he doesn't know if it belongs to her or himself, but he can't find it in himself to care. The way it hits ragged against his chest makes him feel just a little bit more alive with each thump. 
He steals that feeling away too, tucking it in next to the new memory of his name of her lips. 
"I- Uhh... We graduate next week, and I don't know, I guess I just needed to know if I was right," She breathes deeply over him, her voice coming out mousy and unsure. His hand rakes through her hair, pulling back the pieces that have stuck to the sides of her face. 
The way she looks down at him sends a shockwave through his system; he lets his hands cradle her face for a moment longer than he probably should have, but God she is so pretty. She has always been pretty, he knew that, but the look in her eyes and the way she leans into his touch as he draws a thumb across her cheek has him fucking swooning. 
The air around them is muggy and thick, full of unsaid words and too much animosity- that part they both hate, and maybe that's where it's coming from. Not a dislike for each other, but the dislike for how things have fallen into place, for how they ended up in this moment, tangled up together. Until this moment they treaded the line between hate and desire, after all, it's a fine, sharp line- either side bound to leave them bloody and broken hearted.  
"Right about what?" He is almost too afraid to ask. Maybe he shouldn't have. 
She reaches up and brushes his hair away from his face, the softness of his hair bringing a small smile to her face. 
"Right about one kiss making up for the four years of torment, making it all worth it," She chuckles mostly to herself, "God I should hate you, I want to hate you, but all I can think about is kissing you again."
He doesn't give her time to say another word before he is pressing his lips firmly to hers again. He brings a gentle hand down to her chin, tilting her head to slot his mouth against hers, angling the kiss deeper. His other hand follows the taught muscle of her jaw down to her neck; he lets the edges of his fingertips graze lightly over her skin. The kiss is everything. It's tongues and teeth and so much emotion. She wants to cry. He wants to get on his knees and thank God. The kiss leaves them both so broken and so whole at the same time. 
His hands wander over her body, feeling every inch of red hot skin he can get under the gentle touch of his fingertips. She tangles her hands into his suit jacket, her knuckles pressed firmly to his chest, holding him down. She can feel the thumping of his heart beneath her balled up fists. He finds her heartbeat when his fingertips grace over the connection of her neck and jaw. 
They are tangled up in each other until they aren't. Breathing deeply from each other, hands still connected, lips parted. The mixture of her perfume, sweet and light, with the dense scent of his cherry tobacco makes them both a bit weak in the knees- so wound up together, entangled. 
"I think I should go," Bob finally whispers after a minute of sharing air, their foreheads pressed together. He doesn't stop himself from saying the words, even though that white hot part of his chest  was trying to strangle the words out of his head before he could say them. His chest hurts. He deserves the ache. 
"You want to leave," Duchenne whispers, tears welling up in her eyes. She tries to keep them at bay as she flutters her lashes. Her tone isn't accusatory, instead, it's full of knowing. 
He hates that she's right. 
"I don't want to, but I need to," The lie is easily off his lips as he sits them both up, unwinding his hands from around her body. He doesn't want to leave this moment, with his hands on her, Duchenne holding him even tighter. He doesn't want to go unwind the clock, go back to anytime before they were tangled together. Bob is thankful that she pulls her own hands from their place around his lapels. He knows he wouldn't have had the strength to do it himself. He shifts her from his lap to the damp grass beside him, the humidity from the late night clinging to the blades of grass, their clothes, their skin. It's sticky and consuming, both of them struggling to breathe. 
"I don't understand," She whispers, the waver in her voice unmistakable. Bob stands, leaving her sitting, staring at her hands bound loosely in the folds of her skirt, the fabric now dirty and wrinkled. He likes it better that way. It feels right, more like their shared past rather than the one they may have shared if he wasn't so damn mean. 
There's a metaphor in there somewhere; between the dirt under her fingernails and the way her hands find themselves winding around softness. Before it was the grass, then his body, now the fabric of her clothes. The juxtaposition of the cleanliness of his hands and the dirty ache that has taken over his chest, slowly snuffing out the warmth, the memories threatening to go with them. Maybe on paper, scrawled in looping wet ink, this is beautiful, the brokenness they have found themselves in. The inability to go backwards, to cross back to the comfortable side of the line. 
But in reality, it just hurts. 
"I didn't plan for you. We graduate next week, Duchenne, I move across the country in a month. I have it worked out to fast track my degree so that I can get into the Navel Academy. I have everything planned out. You can't expect me to give all that up because you got drunk and decided you needed to kiss me to fix your life," Bob's tone is hostile, the meanness he has fought so hard to keep at bay, the meanness that keeps himself safe, bubbles to the surface. "I didn't work my ass off for four years, doing advanced classes and killing myself in swimming to throw it all away for a girl, especially a girl like you," 
It was a cheap shot. He knows it the second it leaves his lips. Bob hates himself for it. After years of his much too put together parents telling him to keep his image up and take pride from those he surrounds himself with, the words just slipped. His Mother would preach about him finding the right girl, someone prim and proper that he could bring home. Someone she would approve of. She never would have approved of Duchenne. Not that it had ever mattered to him before everything went to hell in the first place. He doesn't stop himself to wonder why it matters now. 
He doesn't ask himself because he knows the answer already. His Mother's opinion doesn't matter. It never has. 
The truth is Bob knows he doesn't fucking deserve her. Not after the way he has treated her for the last four years. Not after how he let his friends treat her. Not after any of it. There's no coming back from how awful he had been. That much he knows, at least, he convinces himself he does. 
It's just easier that way. 
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Pain and frustration grate through her words. "We could have had one night where we weren't trying to kill each other, but instead of kissing me, you're trying to fucking fight me again! God damnit Bobby! I really thought you were different than this!" 
Bob wants to be different, God, he wants nothing more than to be different. He wants to be different for her, he wants to be the version of himself that lives in her head. 
"I guess I'm the one girl you won't fuck, huh?" Duchenne whispers those words to herself, her tone defeated. Bob wasn't supposed to hear them. He doesn't look at her, he can't, instead he takes a couple of steps back, the heels of his palms pressed firmly against his eyes. His brows are furrowed, a pained expression knit through his features. Her words hit him square in the chest. Hard.  
Duchenne almost shakes with anger, or maybe it's disappointment. Either way she is holding back a title wave of tears and curses. 
"So your just going to walk away?!" She yells, the tears in her eyes blurring the outline of his body. She climbs to her feet, a bit shaky and off balance. He wants to reach out and steady her, but he doesn't. His hands find home in his pants pockets; he buries them deep, clutching onto the fabric to keep himself from reaching for her. 
"Okay, that's fine. I didn't ask you to stay. I just thought that maybe, after everything, you might've realized that you had the capability of being a nice person. A good man. But I should've known," She shakes her head, fighting to keep her tears from spilling. She juts a finger out, pressing it square against his chest as she leans in close, her words no more than a whisper, "Once an asshole, always an asshole," 
Bob doesn't even give her time to say anything else, he kneels to grab his keys and wallet before he is turning on his heel. The only thing he hears as he crosses the threshold back into the school is a ragged sob coming from the broken girl he left behind. 
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bleach-your-panties · 4 months
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Sincember Event ❄️❄️
Rating: Light Smut🍡
Requested By: @yfneccentric
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Tetsurou Kuroo is a businessman. 
No, more like a business genius.
Graduated top of his class from one of Tokyo’s elite business schools.
He enjoys his career as a sports promotion agent. It not only rakes in big bucks, but also allows him to form lifelong friendships with his clients. 
Such as one Tobio Kageyama. 
They met back in high school during a practice match between their respective volleyball teams.
Those were all fond memories back then, but now? 
He's trying to resist slamming the dark-haired professional setter's head into a bowl of potato salad that was set out on the buffet table.
He didn't want to come to this stupid office party in the first place, but no, you insisted.
You even stayed up all night making a dessert to contribute to the company Christmas potluck.
How cute you are.
Though right now you were something less than cute and more lascivious as you flaunted yourself around, chatting and shaking hands with company executives and athletes alike.
And Kageyama.
Kuroo's dark, narrowed eyes didn't miss the flounce of your skirt as you twirled around Tobio, engaging him enthusiastically in conversation and rubbing all along his covered forearms.
The man in question didn’t even seem bothered that you were falling all over him, pretending to be interested in whatever he had to say, which Kuroo knew to be only boring sports jargon and a lot of other shit that he knew you didn't understand. 
Now, Tetsurou wouldn't consider himself a jealous man usually, but the dress you'd decided to wear tonight left just enough to the imagination to where he wouldn't have to snap Kageyama's neck for letting those dull blue eyes linger on your body for far too long.
Oh, but Kuroo knows just how to fix you, though…
—-
“'m sorry, Tetsu! Please!” 
Your moans circulated throughout the large, empty bathroom as your boyfriend pressed you up against the marble sink.
The crotch of his gray pinstriped suit pants rubbed against your bare ass while his long, slim fingers thrust upwards into your soaking cunt.
Kuroo had lost track of how long you'd been in here, how long he'd had you pressed against the counter babbling his name in broken syllables while he finger-fucked you in earnest.
“Hm, you're sorry, kitten? Sorry for what, exactly?” 
His opposite palm came up to slap against your swollen ass cheek, the sound like firecrackers popping off in the empty space. 
“Sorry for practically slutting yourself out for Tobio in front of everyone? Is that what you're sorry for? Answer me, slut, or I'll stop.”
You nodded profusely, tears seeping down your cheeks and ruining your meticulously done makeup. Not that you really cared.
“Yes, Tetsu! I'm so, so sorry! Please let me cum!”
With a soft chuckle, Kuroo withdrew his fingers and lifted them to his lips, sucking them loudly and causing you to let out a desperate whine. 
“You'd better hope that no one has to use the bathroom, Y/N, because I'm about to have you folded against this mirror in a second. That should teach you a lesson about flirting with my clients, huh?” 
----
ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ🫶🏽
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dcbbw · 2 months
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WIP Wishlist 2024
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Hello tumblrs , and Happy March 2020-4! I’m still waiting for the new year to actually feel like a new year instead of a continuum of the year before it. Can anyone else relate? 
At the very beginning of the year, while battling a never-ending case of RSV, I saw posts here about people’s writing resolutions and goals for this year. Me? I have a wish list of stories I want to start, continue, and/or finish. I will still be writing original stories, but thinking this may be the year I settle down and write/publish my own Great American Novel. We’ll see.  
Meanwhile, below is a glimpse of what immediately came to mind when I thought to put this together. Where applicable, snippets will be posted. As usual, everything is in states of rough drafts and flux, and final publication may vary from what you read here.  
Newbies:  
These are stories that are in the creation conception stage; ideas, thoughts, some words.  
The False Queen 
A long ago battle between the True Queen (Ravika/Riley) and her usurper (Magda/Madeleine) resumes during the Cordonian Social Season. Think Xena, Warrior Princess with some time travel thrown in. 
Untitled 
An unlikely pair (Justin/Anton x Kiara) finds love during the Engagement Tour. But with Anton having other plans in mind, the path to happily ever after is anything but smooth.  
Wolves and Sheep 
Combining my Riam, Anton, and Secrets of Cordonia AUs, this is the story of the trial of Anton Severus.  
At the prosecutor’s table sits the Duchy’s High Counsel and Lord Rashad Domvallier. Folders and papers are stacked neatly on the table while the men converse quietly as they type on laptop keyboards.  
The defense attorneys sit at a table across the aisle from them: a statuesque blonde woman wearing a gray pantsuit and an African man in a pinstriped three-piece navy suit. The woman is reviewing a document, her pen occasionally scribbling on the paper. The man is speaking in hushed tones into his cellphone. 
Security is omnipresent: King’s Guards work and stand side-by-side with the local constabulary and guardians of the Court.  
A side door swings open; two guards, followed by the defendant and two additional sentries enter. The guards part, allowing the public its first glimpse of Anton Severus in over five years. The quiet of the courtroom is broken by rustling and whispering as everyone strains forward. Members of the Cordonian Court are no exception.  
A sneer of disdain twists the mouth of the Duchess of Lythikos, Anton’s ex-wife. Her fingertips unconsciously begin rubbing the area on her abdomen where his dagger tore her flesh. 
The King leans forward intently, his dark-ebony eyes hard as obsidian. His expression is stoic, betraying nothing. 
The Queen is sitting ramrod straight, her eyes wide. “Holy FUCK, he’s hot!” she murmured. “I could make that man a King.” 
Without breaking his gaze on his nemesis, the King lightly slaps her thigh, causing his wife to frown at him. “I said what I said,” she hisses. “I did it for you, I can do it for him.” 
“I was royal long before I met you, and King when I married you,” Liam reminds her in a slightly reproving tone, his eyes still fixed on Anton. 
“There you go, twisting the narrative,” Riley huffs as she reaches for her husband’s hand. He readily allows her to hold it. 
Affairiage 
I thought I was making Leo Rys and Savannah Walker leads in my version of Same Time Next Year, but it appears I’m doing a fanfic of 28 Summers 
Heartland 
Back in the Year 500 BC, I came up with the idea of a late 1950s period piece featuring the TRR crew, and promptly never said another word about it:  
Well, cauldrons are beginning to bubble, and plans are being made to rework plot and premise to turn this into an anthology series set in the American Midwest during an era where Dick Clark reigned, Jim Crow ruled, and innocence began to lose its bloom.   
Sixteen Candles 
Another story that popped into my brain and left just as quickly. But thoughts of Drake Walker as Jake Ryan and Liam as Long Duck Dong are back and this time, I don’t think they’re going anywhere. 
Small Town Secrets 
This was originally titled Life in a Southern Town aka The Political AU and was going to follow the political campaigns of five mayoral candidates: Riley Brooks, the incumbent; her ex-husband Liam Rys (they still live together in the same house and co-parent their two daughters), a former state senator; Madeleine, District A councilmember; Leo Rys, the dark horse candidate; and Drake Walker, Riley’s former (?) lover who calls her a demon and a plague on the town.  
However, life events and imagination are collaborating, and I am repurposing the story to include political intrigue, hidden secrets, and humor in inappropriate places.  
Debating if this will be a Great American Novel nominee, and whether to use OCs versus the usual cast of characters.  
Little Nobles 
A (somewhat) light-hearted look at the childhoods of my favorite noble gang, along with the friendships and rivalries between their parents. 
In Progress: 
Stories that are nagging me to write them/finish them 
City Girl, Country Boy 
Tis the season, and Liam finds himself alone on holiday in Manhattan where he runs across an old friend. 
From the corner of my eye, I glimpse height and dark wool; hands stuffed in pockets. Perfectly combed dark hair and Asiatic features on a half-shadowed face. I mentally shake my head as I continue walking. It’s been over a decade since we last laid eyes on each other; there’s no way it’s him.  
I’m disappointed that after all this time, I still search for his face in the crowd, that I still hope he will pursue me despite the different trajectories our lives have taken. My steps are quicker as I pass apartment buildings, skyscrapers, and storefronts gaily decorated in the theme of the season. Street vendors hawk bootleg wares  
I’m nearing Canal Street subway when I hear running footsteps behind me. Automatically, I step to aside, so I don’t get barreled over but the steps slow as they near me.  
“Excuse me, miss,” a familiar baritone says, and I stop walking.  
It can’t be.  
I haven’t heard that voice in 12 years, but I don’t need to look to know who it is. I turn anyway so my ears and eyes can be in agreement. I am hoping my expression is neutral despite my insides being a squirrel in traffic.  
He hasn’t changed.  
His hair is still black with that streak of gray on the side; his face still unlined. Or maybe the New York night softens his years. He wears a custom-tailored, black wool coat; his wingtips are so polished, I see the streetlamps reflected in them. His cologne is subtle and not the one I remember. He still exudes confidence despite the smidgen of uncertainty in his eyes.  
Me on the other hand, I am now more TJ Maxx and Macy’s clearance rack than Louboutin. I don’t smell expensive; more like affordable. My trench coat is … vintage, and long overdue for a dry cleaning. My shoes are a dull matte black, scuffed from traversing streets and subways.  
“It is you.” I hear his disbelieving whisper despite the throng of people impatiently jostling past us. 
The Odd Couples 
It’s throwback DC AU gang, all mixed up: Liam x Liv; Drake x Madeleine; Leo x Riley; Max x Penelope 
The couple was in Baltimore for the weekend, attending a costume party thrown by Liv’s employer. There had been a buffet, open bar, and a prize for the best costume. Which Liam and Olivia did not win; Carlos Santiago, a member of the Environmental Services team, along with his wife and three children came costumed as birds and bees and won the prize.  
Liam and Liv were The Ricardos: Olivia’s red hair was done up in Lucy’s signature poodle hairstyle, and her dress was a dead ringer for the world’s most famous housewife’s iconic frock. He had wanted to wear a tuxedo and carry a conga drum but settled for Ricky’s purple polka dot silk smoking jacket with shawl collar, black pants, and black velvet slippers.  
“I can’t believe we didn’t win!” Liam muttered beneath his breath as he came behind Olivia, arms encircling her waist; his palms splayed against her flat, toned stomach. She responded by leaning against him, her back pressed against his chest.  
“Don’t hate!” she admonished. “With those Korean features and Boston accent, no way were you a convincing Cuban band leader. Besides, you have to admit the birds and the bees is a pretty creative idea.” 
“Not more creative than my SOCK GAME! I mean, Liv … you gotta admit, it’s damn good tonight!” 
He was wearing black, knee-length socks with red hearts inscribed with “I Love Lucy” scattered all over.  
Olivia rolled her eyes in exasperation at the mention of his sock game. 
This man and his socks! He thought his sock game could cure cancer and bring about world peace. 
“You’re sock game is great as it always is, darling. But it was a costume contest,” Olivia placated in a soothing tone as his fingers began removing bobby pins from her hair.  
She spun around, facing her boyfriend. Her hair fell in soft curls that framed her face. Her green eyes twinkled as she pressed a quick kiss against his lips.  
“You big, spoiled baby,” she teased. “Wanna smoke? I brought a couple of blunts along.” 
Quickly, he shook his head. “No way am I going to be in BALTIMORE off some loud.” 
Alienation of Affection 
An installment of my Gritty City AU loosely based on true events where sneaky links and self-loathing collide. Reader discretion will be advised. 
Caught 
Inspired by a keysmash-filled convo with @ao719, a twist on the night of the Engagement Ball 
This is her first admission of guilt and/or wrongdoing our entire time together.  
She has no choice.  
I attempt a deep inhale, but my chest is too tight.  
The wedding is in one week. Tonight was our engagement gala.  
“Yes, Liam yes!!! A THOUSAND TIMES, yes!” 
I caught her … them … in the act. The woman I love madly, truly, deeply and the man I trust more than anything in the world.  
I manage to choke out a single question. “Why?” 
Her shoulders slump as her head falls forward, causing her hair to cover her profile. “It hasn’t been going on long; it started on the Engagement Tour. I told him in Vegas that what we had would have to end.” 
I watched her leave the stag party arm-in-arm with Drake Walker. My best friend, with whom Riley wanted to have a fling. She swore it was a one-time affair; she was too much in love with me, but she wished to satisfy her curiosity.  
I attempted to leave first, but I was not only one of the honorees, I was also King.  
Per traditional protocol, the King is the last to leave.  
So I remained behind, drinking copious amounts of American liquor, making small talk in a loud voice so as to be heard over noisy music, and dancing with women I had previously rejected.  
All while Riley spent the night with another man. 
“But it hasn’t,” I interrupt harshly. 
Based on Tumblr Events:  
Untitled Song Rewrite 
Based on Jill Scott’s Epiphany 
Sisters Someone 
A two-part story that brings together Sloane Washington and Kiara Theron for their respective appreciation weeks (hosted by @lizzybeth1986) 
Untarnished Silver 
For King Liam Appreciation Week (KLAW), a look at 25 years of the rule and reign of Cordonia’s favorite King 
The Grand Ballroom in the Palace’s West Wing had been completely transformed into an elegant banquet hall:  
Buffet tables filled with steaming trays of foods catered from two of Cordonia’s newest and most critically acclaimed restaurants: The Little Lamb, and its sister eatery The Commoner’s Crown, were conveniently placed next to open bars throughout the humongous room.  
Tables were covered with white linen cloths and topped with floral centerpieces of irises, Peruvian lilies, and magnolias in silver vases. The flowers represented congratulations and longevity, sentiments that had been expressed repeatedly to the King and his family during the tour.  
Balloon bouquets colored silver and cream floated near the ornate ceiling, as well as being tied to chairbacks. Dining tables strategically ringed the room, affording the 1,500 attendees a full view of the stage and podium. Life-sized photographs hung from brocaded walls, capturing moments of the King’s life:  
Accepting the Crown Princeship one week to the day his brother Leo abdicated.  
Coronation night, wearing the King’s crown, royal robes, and holding the family scepter.  
Feeding ducks at Lake Fabian with his mother.  
He and Riley’s engagement portrait.  
Their wedding day, mouths opened in laughter with their faces covered in cake and frosting.  
In a dressing gown, his back to the camera and face in profile as he held one of his sons in his arms. 
Atop a horse with a frown of concentration on his face, playing in a charity polo match, the camera catching his mallet mid-swing. 
Speaking with Chancellor Merkel at a summit, a half-smile on his face as they looked down at a document, his index finger pointing to something on the paper. 
He and Riley dancing at their 20th wedding anniversary party, her face nuzzled against his neck while his lips hovered above her ear. 
A funny family portrait, complete with exaggerated poses and expressions. 
The Couple Next Door 
A reworking of the 2005 action comedy hit, Mr. & Mrs. Smith 
Final Cut 
Based on the first three chapters of a Round Robin hosted by @choicesprompts 
Bertrand Beaumont turned off the microphone before shuffling, then paper-clipping his index cards. He glanced up briefly to see the group filing out of the hotel’s ballroom; a curious expression crossed his face when he saw a few laggers approach others, striking up conversations.  
What have I gotten myself into? 
Starting a public relations firm had seemed a great idea a year ago. With the Duke’s diverse background in fashion, finance, and political legalities, coupled with his penchant for decorum and obsession with appearances, it had seemed a no-brainer. 
Savannah was his operations manager, responsible for events logistics and administrative support. Justin Severus was his right-hand person; he had done a marvelous job restoring the Queen’s reputation after the unfortunate incident at Applewood.  
He stepped from behind the podium and briskly made his way off the dais, looking down at his watch as he strode through the room. Looking back up, he saw Justin leaning against a wall, waiting for him at the elevator bank. The closer Bertrand approached his deputy, a wide smile spread across Justin’s face.  
“You were great!” he greeted the Duke. “You kept the rowdies in line and gave them just enough to pique their curiosity.” 
 Bertrand pushed the call button. “This group is not what I was expecting. South American overlords. Hollywood has-beens and wanna-bes. AMERICANS! We’re going to need to double-check the mentor list again.” 
Bertrand had postponed the mentor/mentee matchup because it was not yet finalized.  
“It’s a hella group, for certain. The subject of an international child custody case, a lawsuit-riddled doctor, disgraced C-suite executive, Leo, Trystan, Olivia, a scandal-ladened starlet, America’s Sweethearts, Princess Marguerite, and Duke Dick.” 
Bertrand gave Justin a withering glance. “DO NOT engage in intercourse with the Princess!” he warned.  
“Too late,” Justin smirked.  
Bertrand shook his head before commenting again. “The Selection Committee must have been drunk when they approved their choices. Have the other members of Court arrived?” 
The elevator arrived and the gentlemen boarded. Justin’s index finger punched their floor number as he shook his head.  
“Not yet. A storm is coming in, waves are choppy. They should be here by 4, and that will be the last ferry into and out of the Isle until Monday morning.” 
Bertrand mulled over the information. “At least we don’t have to worry about anyone sneaking off.” 
Finish Them:  
So these are stories that are soooo close to completion, but I am on the fence with two of them; the others, not sure why they are still sitting around gathering dust.  
House of Cards 
Based on the international phenomenon Squid Games, this is the backstory of “The Salesman”. On the fence about this story, and more so about posting this one in the fandom. 
On this, the night of Day 2, the remaining participants were playing yet another “game”: Pillow Fight.  
Innocent sounding enough.  
Except everyone knew there would be a deadly twist, and all wanted to be alive in the morning. After realizing that this was a game to the death; overcoming the initial shock of a robotic doll the size of a fully grown tree whose eyes were infra-red cameras, and learning elimination meant certain demise … partners had already become opposition.  
Player 081 inadvertently set the match to the fuse. No one knew if it was intentional. No one cared. 
The middle-aged man, who was less than 48 hours into a dry drunk, muttered “fuck” under his breath as he stood on his top tier bunk in an attempt to press his palm against the glass pig’s underbelly.  
No one was sure why.  
Was he trying to steal the bank’s treasure? Or turn off the irritating light? 
 It no longer mattered.  
The money wasn’t his and now, it never would be. 
As pillowcases filled with objects such as rocks, sturdy tree branches, and in some …mere feathers randomly swung wildly, the white cotton slowly seeped red. Hollers and screams filled the room and echoed off walls and ceilings as beds collapsed from metal bars being snatched by the frenzied mob or being tipped over in the melee.  
On the other side of the bunker, a thin, petite woman who looked no older than a teenager sniffled, the tears she cried streaking a bruised cheek covered with the dried blood of a corpse. A young man lay on his side behind her on the narrow mattress, his cracked voice in her ear.  
“It’s gonna be okay, Soo-Ah; just four more games and then we can leave,” he assured her in a ragged whisper. 
The woman hitched her breath. “My pillowcase has FEATHERS, Sang-yul! If they pull me into the fray, I’ll be leaving here a lot sooner than four days!” Her body shook with silent sobs. 
The 23-year-old street urchin said nothing. Instead, he swallowed heavily and tried not to puke at the smell of blood, both old and fresh, assailing his nostrils. His arms tightened around Soo-Ah, his only friend in this hellhole.  
The pig’s lighting flickered faster and more erratically as the fighting grew more frenzied. Sickening thuds, bellows of pain, and the sounds of shoe soles squeaking against the blood and brain splattered linoleum flooring were as loud as bombs.  
Sang-yul chanced a glance over his shoulder, his body tensing at the sight of someone headed in their direction, their face pale and ghoulish in the broken light. A metal pipe was carried in one hand, a bloodied cloth sack in the other.  
Coal black eyes darted everywhere looking for a victim.  
Less players meant more money. 
Sins of the Father 
A Gritty City AU installment. Reader discretion will be advised. 
He met Madeleine at her car door, his lips crashing uninvited against hers in a kiss filled with desperation and disbelief. When the kiss ended as abruptly as it began, Madeleine adjusted her tortoise-shell glasses while her green eyes searched Liam’s face almost warily.  
“What the hell was that?”  
“Someone killed Poppa Joe tonight!”  
Madeleine quelled a shiver that raised goosebumps on her exposed skin before reaching back inside the car for her purse. “Thank GOD,” she breathed as opened the rear driver-side door to release Hans and Gunther, who bounded out of the car and sat before Liam so he could rub their heads and murmur sweet gibberish to them. 
The restauranteur was yet another of Poppa Joe’s victims; when she was 15, the priest had gotten her pregnant. The scandal was handled quietly by the parish and her parents; the latter believed the father of the baby was an upperclassman named Tariq.  
The young blonde left school for one month due to “illness”. It wasn’t a complete fabrication. 
Madeleine’s abortion was a back-alley botch job which left her with a raging infection and too much blood loss. She survived but had to have an emergency hysterectomy.  
She no longer cared. When she and Liam were getting serious and discussing marriage and family, he was relieved they would be unable to have children.  
Tariq, the son of poor Moroccan immigrants, was transferred to an exclusive private school in the city’s North End, all expenses paid via a scholarship provided by St. Joan’s Academies. 
“How did the rest of the party go?” she asked quietly as they began walking towards the house, holding hands; her blonde hair bounced against her shoulders. 
Liam nodded slightly. “Good. We got Sloan Enterprise and slew of new donors.” His side-eyed his wife. “Where did you go with the dogs? It was supposed to be a walk.” 
Madeleine turned her head vaguely, meeting her husband’s gaze.  
“Ice cream,” she replied in a soft voice.  
Her husband nodded thoughtfully. The term was code between them; when situations became too overwhelming, too triggering, they said they needed “ice cream.” 
“I hope you brought me some back.” Liam squeezed Madeleine’s hand more tightly.  
“You don’t like chocolate.” 
The Queen’s Friendship 
Riley was chatting with Maxwell in the Delegates Dining Room at the UN, waiting for the gala to begin. Liam was at the head of the room, arm in arm with Madeleine. His eyes spotted Riley and he winked. Riley rolled hers and turned her back to him.  
“Blossom, don’t act like this! You know he’s trying,” Maxwell begged.
“WE’RE trying! He’s kissing his fiancée,” Riley retorted. Her eyes scanned the room. “Oh, look … there’s Drake,” she stated before walking away from Maxwell.  
Riley had no idea if it was Drake or not, she just wanted away. From Liam, Madeleine, Maxwell … Cordonia. Riley figured now was the time to make the break. She was back home in New York City. She still had her apartment, for the next month at least. She passed by elegantly dressed tables and came upon an hors d'oeuvres station; she paused to pile a tiny plate with even tinier bits of food when she heard her name.  
“Riley Brooks?” 
She turned, a disinterested expression on her face until she saw who it was. Riley hurriedly set her plate on the edge of the buffet table before wrapping her arms around Veronica.  
“OH MY GOD, Ronnie! What are you doing here?” Riley shrieked.  
Veronica hugged her old friend tightly. “It’s so good to see you!” The women separated. “You look great, girl! I’m one of the event planners, why are you here?” 
Riley shrugged. “I’m with the band.” 
Veronica shook her head in disbelief. “How did you end up with royalty?” 
“I answered an ad to be a waitress.” 
DC AU Series, Chapter 6 
The chirping of birds and a full bladder woke Riley up. She arched her neck, eyes still closed; they opened quickly when she felt arms around her waist and Liam’s soft snores behind her. Last night ran through her brain: their fight, their kiss, their confessions. Riley inhaled and let out a shaky breath; were they really going to do this? 
Yes. 
Was she ready for it? 
No.  
Her hands curled around Liam’s wrists, trying to pull them apart. He resisted at first, but let his arms fall away from her body. Riley missed their warmth immediately.  
“Where are you going?” Liam mumbled.  
“Bathroom and to take my meds.” 
“Your pill and a bottle of water are on your nightstand.” 
Riley looked and saw the pink pill sitting on a tissue, next to an unopened bottle of water. When did he do that? 
“Thank you. But unless you put a toilet on the nightstand as well, I gotta get up.” 
Liam shifted, allowing Riley to move and sit up. He watched her adjust her night shirt; his eye was caught by a mole on the back of her neck.  His finger reached out, touching it experimentally. Riley giggled as she shrugged away from his touch.  
“It’s like a potato bug,” Liam said as he tried to touch the mole again.  
“Oh, dear God! Don’t you have to go to work or something?”   
Liam lay on his back, hands behind his head. “Not going in today. You need me here.” 
Riley frowned at him as she walked past the foot of the bed. “I’m fine, Liam. It’s just Drake.” 
“Drake with apologies and explanations and closure. Different Drake than what you’re used to. I’ll feel better if I’m here.” 
Riley shook her head as she stepped into the bathroom.  
“This is what having a man who wants to claim you is like, Riley B.!” he called out.  
“We’re not there yet!” she hollered back.  
“Practice makes perfect!” 
Oldies but Goodies: 
New chapters/updates of old stories:  
Timing 
Object of Affection 
Betrayal (Riam) 
The Commonerr’s Wife 
The Commoner (not that old, but I too want a thrid chapter) 
One Night Stand 
UnRomance 
Streets of New York
Platinum (truly needs to be filed under Finish Them)
Best Friend (Depeche Mode Diary entry, needs to be a Finish Them)
Liara 
And these are my #goals for 2024 writing-wise. I hope something caught your eye, piqued your interest. For all those still hanging with me and exercising the utmost patience while I let life kick my ass, I LOVE YOU! Something’s coming soon-ish, just not sure what.  
Hope you’re here for it. 
Tagging: @jared2612 @marietrinmimi @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @beezm @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @gardeningourmet @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @lovingchoices14 @lady-calypso @choicesficwriterscreations
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skaylanphear · 3 months
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The Marauders and...
Summary: Heading to Hogwarts for the first time, Remus tries not to let his worries get him down. He has a lot on his plate—truths he can’t share with anyone—and none of it is helped by the bullies constantly casting jinxes and calling him nasty names. Despite it all, though, he has his three best friends—the first friends he’s ever made, in fact.
Yet, it doesn’t take long for Sirius to start getting suspicious, questioning what strange sickness could be keeping Remus in the hospital wing for days at a time. Ever nosy, Sirius takes it upon himself to unravel the mystery that is Remus Lupin, unaware of the tortured consequences that come with knowing such an intimate secret.
A story about the Marauders as they navigate their school years and set off into adulthood.
Year One: The Marauders and the Shrieking Shack - Chapters 1-25 Summer 1972 - Chapters 26 - 34 Year Two: The Marauders and the Counting Curse - Chapters 35 - 68
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Chapter 25
Dumbledore had been quite friendly with them the following morning, after McGonagall had led them up to his office to await their parents. Dragging their trunks behind, they'd stood in full uniform and half-expected some kind of scolding from the headmaster. He'd merely offered them some lemon drops, however, and said he expected their parents to begin arriving at any moment.
He seemed… distracted.
Remus was not surprised his own parents were the first to get there. His father—tall and lanky as he was stern—had to bow his head as he came through, Remus' significantly smaller mother clinging to his arm as she walked out of the green flames beside him.
"Mr. and Mrs. Lupin," Dumbledore said as he stepped forward, hand outstretched to shake theirs. "A pleasure to see you, as always."
"Likewise," Lyall said simply. "Though I would prefer it be under different circumstances." He looked right at Remus as he said so, who flushed and stared down at his shoes.
"I'm sure we all would," Dumbledore agreed vaguely.
Lyall opened his mouth like he might say something more, but before he could, the fireplace flashed green again and out strutted an older man with thick gray hair, a matching mustache, and a very friendly smile.
"Dad!" James called and bolted forward to meet him.
"That's his dad," Sirius whispered to Remus. "He looks more like he could be his grandfather."
Remus was rather surprised as well. His own father, he'd always thought, looked older than he actually was, but he was nothing to James' father.
"My dear boy!" James' father said as he wrapped James up in his arms. He was wearing a very pristine set of bright blue robes over a matching pinstriped suit. "Your mother and I have missed you in spades!"
On cue, the fireplace flashed again and a women waltzed out. She was older as well, her tightly-pinned dark hair full of gray and white streaks. She shared in James' dark complexion, unlike his father, who was very much white, but she had the same sort of easy kindness about her smile. She was wearing similar blue robes to her husband, only hers were bedazzled with sparkling stars.
"James!" she cried at the sight of her son, who parted with his father to embrace his mother instead. "Why, you've grown so much since Easter! I hardly recognize you!"
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