#i was going to go to sleep and then i accidentally did this instead

[wonitten]

DETECTIVE TROUBLEMAKER (YJ)

Part 3. Part 2 ; Part 1

synopsis: In a desperate attempt to salvage her career, a klutzy detective plans to kidnap a corrupt minister as part of her final assignment. However, her plans go hilariously awry when she mistakenly kidnaps a charming mafia boss instead. But perhaps there was more to it.

pairings: Mafia boss! Jungwon x detective! readerft. Boss! Heeseung, assistant! Sunghoon, hot delivery man! Jake

genre: Comedy, romance, crime, Dramedy

warnings: death, mentions of blood, organ trafficking

wc: 1.4k

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of the detective agency, casting long shadows across the cluttered desk where Heeseung lay snoring amidst a mountain of files.

There can't possibly be anything that could get him up from his deep sleep—His peaceful slumber was abruptly interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone, prompting him to groggily reach for the receiver.

"Detective Heeseung speaking," he slurrs, rubbing the remnants of drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Hello, this is Jake from your local Papa Jones and you know what we just finished making? Your fifty large pepperoni pizzas and I'm on my way to deliver them. Better have the cash ready," the voice on the other end chirped cheerfully.

Heeseung shot up in his chair, suddenly wide awake. "Hey! Hold on a minute! I didn't order any pizza! Hello!? Are you listening to me?" he exclaimed, but the line had already gone dead, leaving him staring at the receiver in bewilderment.

"And that is the story behind my motivation", Heeseung muttered, while scribbling down on his notes furiously.

Sunghoon, his assistant, raised an incredulous eyebrow. "So let me get this straight, you work this hard every day because you're still in debt to Papa Jones for fifty pizzas, turns out you also found the delivery man attractive, so you accidentally gave him your bank details to avoid looking broke... God, tell me this is a bunch of bullcrap."

Heeseung shrugged nonchalantly, burying himself back in the stack of files before him. "Believe what you will, but the truth is often stranger than fiction."

Just then, you breezed into the office, exuding boundless energy and enthusiasm. "Good morning, Boss!" you chirped, flashing a bright smile.

Heeseung nodded in acknowledgment, his attention already diverted back to his work.

Sunghoon watches your energetic greeting with a knowing look. His gaze wanders over your file, before landing them on the familiar bracelet on your wrist.

"Oh where did you get that bracelet from Y/n", He frowns lightly, while asking. Then laughs awkwardly. "It looks very pretty".

"Really? You can take this then", You shrugged casually, unhooking the bracelet and offering it to him. "Some careless person left it in my pocket, so it's all yours."

"Some careless person...", Sunghoon mutters to himself, holding onto the bracelet with 'YJ' initials before reminiscing yesterday's memories.

"My friend has a girl, and he proposed a date indirectly to her, but like she didn't get it," His boss mutters, thinking about the scenario. "But when he asked indirectly again if they were on a date, she looked at him in disgust, panicked kind of way, which is weird because why would anyone not go on a date with him? He is literally a whole package."

"Either he is stupid, she is stupid or the girl has someone she likes? Can I get the name of the girl you like so I can research about her?", He says.

"Yeah her name is....", Jungwon paused, as his words sinks in his mind. "Wait. It's not me!".

"Whatever you say boss"

"Some careless person as in...", Sunghoon puts the bracelet inside his pocket. 'Yang Jungwon', he thought.

He got out of the office and smacked his head for not realising it sooner. After all, the town was smaller; why did he think his boss would have any better taste in women?

Obviously, Jungwon was talking about going on a date with you, while you wanted to go on a date with Heeseung, and Heeseung is an oblivious idiot — this has gotta be some load of triangle nonsense.

"Lord Jesus Christ, help me."

______________

It was evening.

And everyone was eager to head home, including the officers of the detective agency. However, their plans were put on hold when they were called to an urgent case that has occured the cafe.

The same cafe where you waited for Jungwon to repay him.

After gathering details from the cops, Heeseung had relied the information that the woman had died at 9 pm. Surprisingly, the CCTV cameras showed her getting out from the train from city, then laughing and talking on her phone before suddenly throwing up blood near the cafe.

Sunghoon furrowed his brow as he examined the pictures of the victim, intrigued by the discrepancy as they showed otherwise. In the photos, she had been stabbed brutally in the stomach.

Perhaps the CCTV footage had been tampered? But the eyewitnesses called for the ambulance, and claimed the same. So who was lieing? The corpse? The eyewitness? The cctv camera? All of them couldn't lie together.

Something was missing here.

Sunghoon raked his fingers through his hair, before checking on the cctv again, while Heeseung continued to talk with the cops.

He saw as the the woman looked perfectly fine, talking to her friend with excitement, when suddenly she gasps loudly, and drops her phone onto the ground, blood flowing from her mouth as she looks at the passer-by for help. And then one of them calls the paramedics, and soon they enter, and lift her onto the stretcher. It ends there.

He tilted his head confused, before turning towards the two people standing beside the cafe who gave the testimony. "I have a question for you two. Did you see blood on her stomach, after she was lifted onto the ambulance? It's not clearly visible here".

Jun answering with glee," Blood was everywhere, sir! It was hard to understand since everyone was panicking."

"We called the ambulance and they came sooner than we expected, within two minutes, and then the paramedics lifted her up on the stretcher and brought her to the hospital I believe", his friend said, looking up as if trying to remember.

Sunghoon thanked them, before turning his attention towards you, who was sipping on apple juice. "You've been sipping on that for a while. Help me around here."

You shrugged, still sipping onto it, while being absorbed on your phone.

"I'm not paid enough for this," Sunghoon groaned, turning away.

Heeseung approached both of you, raising his eyebrows. "Any clues?"

When Sunghoon shook his head, Heeseung smirked. "Well, I've got one from my good friend. He contacted me."

Sunghoon parted his lips in realisation. The good friend was none other than the anonymous benefactor helping them solve clues once in a while. That person is the reason why he was tasked to infiltrate in the detective agency as an assistant, and to inform about his whereabouts and deductions to his real boss, Jungwon.

"It's the paramedics"

"The paramedics? Why would they—" Sunghoon started, but Heeseung interrupted him.

"They never arrived. Think about it. Why would paramedics arrive within two minutes when the nearest hospital takes at least half an hour?" Heeseung played with his pen, jotting down notes. "She was murdered in the ambulance, which is why the hospital concluded she died the same time she fainted."

Sunghoon widens his eyes in understanding. "Ah, I see now! But what could be their motive for killing her? And what about her vomitting blood in the beginning?."

"That?" Heeseung gestured towards the police officers. "The cops said they will bring it out themselves since some gangs and organ trafficking are getting involved here."

Sunghoon's eyes glisten with interest at that. "Oh? I guess it's the same as the case before."

"It seems so. Ugh, I wanna go home now" Heeseung said, stifling a yawn. "Come to think of it, I haven't slept for three days."

You gasped "No way, Heeseung. You should sleep right now. Sunghoon, drive him home!"

"Why me?" Sunghoon protested. "You do it!"

"I don't know how to drive a car," you pout.

"Then... then..." Sunghoon groaned. "Fine, I'll drive you home."

As they both walk away, you smoothly threw the empty can of apple juice into the nearby dustbin. With your other hand slipping the phone back into your pocket, a subtle flicker of curiosity dances in your eyes—a momentary lapse in your typically chaotic demeanor that goes unnoticed by both Heeseung and Sunghoon.

Your gaze casually drifts towards the photographs of the crime scene. Though your expression remains neutral, there's a subtle undercurrent of amusement in the way you study the images.

"pity"

Tearing your gaze away, you seamlessly rejoin Heeseung and Sunghoon and effortlessly slip back into their conversation.

author note? : enhypen album is near, exam is near. And the combination of both, doesn't usually go good, does it? Atleast the album will serve as my gift for exams.

Series Tag list: @drunkhee @booooooooooooooooooooooos @suhiiiiiii @mrsyangsikmoa @nyfwyeonjun

#enhypen #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #jungwon #jungwon enhypen #jungwon x reader #enhypen jungwon #sunghoon #enha heeseung #jake enhypen

[robyn-i-guess]

gerrymichael enjoyers and writers i want your opinion 🎤

ok so i have this au fic for gerrymichael where it's college au, and it's a like the whole bad boy/good girl (minus the fact they're both boys, and even that's questionable)

basically, gerry is stereotyped due to his more alternative looks and everyone assumes he's probably doing illegal things or just sleeps around a lot

meanwhile michael is the head of student council "goody two shoes" type, who most are sort of aware of but don't know anything about

gerry thinks about michael. a lot. he sees them in the halls for only a few seconds a day but thinks about him for a lot longer. hallway crush vibes. and when they get put into a painting class together, suddenly they have an opportunity to meet, and gerry is freaking out a usual amount. (there's more to the whole plot but that's just the beginning bit)

putting a short lil concept thing under the cut

Gerard Keay does not know Michael Shelley.

The only reason he knows their name is because they're in the student council, meaning it's not uncommon for their name to be said during school events.

He has only seen them in hallways, passing by in a rush while holding papers or books that always seem like they're going to fall out of their hands. Even in those moments, most of what Gerard is able to catch is a blur of golden curls and eyes that are ridden with exhaustion.

So, it is safe to say that he does not know Michael.

That fact only caused confusion to him whenever Gerard realized his strange excitement once learning that Michael would be in one of his classes for the semester.

It was an art class, one that he had picked due to him already being practiced is painting and drawing. He assumed it would be a fun class, or at least one that wouldn't be too stressful. However, when he had first walked into that classroom and saw Michael Shelley sitting at an area in the back, Gerard had assumed the emotion he was feeling was stress. He couldn't pinpoint why, it wasn't like he was intimidated by their status, but he couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness he felt when he accidentally locked eyes with them. He turned his head quickly in that moment, deciding to sit in the front of the room despite that not being where he'd usually prefer to be. Something about Michael sitting there made Gerard think twice about sitting in the back as he normally would.

The lecture went smoothly, it mostly being an introduction to the professor and what would be happening throughout the classes. So did the next, and then the next one after that. That didn't get rid of the feeling he felt, however, every time that Gerard walked into that room and attempted to avoid looking at the one with golden curls in the back. He knew he'd have to talk to them at some point, it was inevitable, but there was something about them that meant he was more nervous to talk to them than he usually would be. And he very much denied the idea that it could be caused by any... feelings he may have. Gerard ruled it as impossible, as he had never spoken to them, and he wasn't that much of an idiot to fall for someone he'd only mostly seen in hallways.

Michael wasn't one to speak up in class, and instead they'd work silently on any research on the history of art they may have been doing, only giving simple responses or nods when the professor would come around and ask how their work was coming along. When Gerard thought about it, he didn't really know what their voice sounded like because it was always quiet or unintelligible from their distance. That only made him more interested in talking to them.

That day never came, though, much to Gerard's disappointment.

They both went through that class without talking to each other once, and when Gerard left that room for the last time he couldn't help but feel like he had failed at some kind of goal. A failure that had meant he would be left with only seeing the elusive Michael Shelley in hallway rushes again, which annoyed him in a way he didn't understand.

He did talk to them one day, though.

(note this is old as heck lmao i've gotten better at writing since i wrote this)

anyways yeah. should i continue it or is it too basic idk, i want to write it for me but it would also be multiple chapters long and my "1k-words-is-rare-for-me" self probably won't bother to write it unless someone else is interested

#just want a consensus idk #if anyone has suggestions i will also take those #or if anyone wants to write it with me maybe.... :3c #(please i want to write a fic with someone it's fun) #anyways #yeah #very stereotypical. very american highschool vibes #realistically would be better as hs au but i don't feel right writing romantic interactions between minors for Clear Reasons #gerrymichael #gerry keay #gerard keay #michael shelley #doorkeay #robyn-i-guess

[sunglassesmish]

i stayed up till 3am making cookies yesterday. and whilst i don’t recommend doing that and then only getting 4 hours of sleep and going to work for 8 hours without eating anything except one of said cookies, DAMN these things taste so good

#i even had to use dark chocolate chips because i accidentally bought them instead of milk chocolate #still tastes great #tw food mention #food mention #and i did go sleep around 11pm after i came back from work and ate some actual food #but i woke up at 1am and i’ve not been able to go back to sleep and then i got hungry so.

[starpros-sunshine]

also i think that after seeing that Something is going out with his eichisama tori should also sneak into town to go and see what's the deal with this wataru guy. and he inevitably gets lost but meets hajime and they have a bonding moment barbie movie-style and him and tomoya help tori meet wataru. and then wataru sees tomoya and goes "oho! interesting child!" which once again leads to eichi unreasonable jealousy against this poor random kid

Okay so I've been thinking on this and I've been trying to get something coherent and bear with me right right.

(this got so long again I just started going into detail and detail and detail and oh god I am so sorry)

So Tori, poor, innocent Tori, has to come to terms with the fact that Eichi is hiding something from him (that "Something" being a tall blue-haired extra of unknown origin) and he knows that, technically, the mature thing would be to leave it alone. Eichi will have his reasons for being a little secretive about it. He has his own life and if he doesn't want to be open about...whatever it is that seems to be going on there.... then he doesn't have to be because the man has a right to privacy.

Tori knows that. But Tori also knows that being mature doesn't matter if, technically, his beloved Eichi-sama could be at risk of giving his heart away to a scoundrel that only wishes to play with him until he's bored and then throws him away, breaking Eichis heart in the process. We couldn't have that! And what if he's a criminal? Can you really trust someone who snoops around on other peoples property without their knowing? No you can't! So really it's only natural Tori wants to know what that guys deal is. Out of a genuine concern for his friend. Of course.

And so obviously it's a completely acceptable and normal and rational decision when he sees that Yuzuru isn't there for a moment to keep watch over him like the guard dog that he is (really Tori isn't a child anymore there's no need to be so overprotective) and the other staff members also don't seem to be around and Eichi is also nowhere to be seen, that he decides to take his coat and pack his little bag with some money (read: more money than just "some" money) and tries to sneak out of the house and down the path across the small meadow and the bit of forest that separates their not-so-humble abode from the small town where the other people live.

His inital plan simple. Go there; ask around a little, maybe try some tailing (after hearing stories from the other aristocrats about how one is able to hire people to follow their spouses around without them noticing - and that apparently being an actual thing people earn their money with - he's decided that it can't be that hard and he should try his luck.) and then leaving as quickly as possible, lest Yuzuru die of a heart attack after finding out Tori dissappeared. It would be quick and easy and nobody would ever find out. That was the original plan. But Tori very soon comes to find that that could prove harder than he thought when he notices he actually really really enjoys the feeling of not having anyone hover over him like some sort of falcon watching their prey.

The little river running by the path through the meadow is still frozen (It is winter after all) and the snow on the ground almost reaches his ankles. The 15 minute walk takes him 30 because he keeps jumping around in the snow (He's made three snow angels by now. For a second he has to think of his sister and of how nice it would be if she were here with him too and how they could make snow angels together were it not for her having to stay with their parents, but he pushes that thought to the back of his head again and decides to move on with his way).

When he eventually arrives at the town - and after just wandering aimlessly through the rather empty streets - there are three major epiphanies.

The first one is that he doesn't have a clear destination. He has no idea where to look for the blue-haired weirdo. The second is that, seeing as it is a forenoon in january, most people probably aren't spending their time outside. And if they are then they are at a different place than where he is. And the third and final one: He is completely and utterly lost.

It should be regarded as an accomplishment really. Getting lost in a town with a population of barely 300 locals living there. Indeed Tori would think it impossible. Yet here he is. If anything he's sure he's at least the only one who can claim this feat for himself. This is fine. He has this under control. If he just keeps walking then he's sure to come out somewhere (No there are no tears in his eyes anyone who says otherwise is just imagining things (he decidedly ignores the little voice in his head that tells him "Who's gonna say otherwise. Look around yourself, have you forgotten that you're all alone here?")). So the big brave boy that he is he marches onward, ignoring the way his fingers have started to feel numb from the cold and his eyes have not stopped watering and the little voice in the back of his head that tells him he should've just listened to Yuzuru (He banishes that one to the deepest depths of his subconscious very quickly. There are blows that his pride can take in these situations and then there's having to agree with "You should've just listened to Yuzuru". If There is one thing that can be said about Tori then it's that he is not one to simply give up. He has come this far and he'll be damed if he backs out now).

Lost in thought and not paying much attention to his surroundings (he has more important things to think about right now), he only manages to register a flash of blue in his peripheral vision. And because this could be what he's come here for in the first place but more importantly because this is a person and that is where the bar is set, Tori immediately tries to follow them. If Lady Luck is especially nice to him this time she lets this person be the mysterious stranger he's been looking for, but what feels like a day of walking through empty streets in the biting cold of a noon in late january have humbled him enough to not push it with his luck.

And when he turns the corner, calling out for the figure to wait, insted of the strange man he was expecting he comes face-to-face with a meekish looking boy with blue hair and big violet eyes and next to him there's a second boy, this one able to be described in all aspects with only one word: average. And for a solid ten seconds they all just stare at each other.

Tori doesn't really know how, he really has no idea, but somehow he ended up following the two home. Or, well, more or less. Following isn't really the right word here. After their almost-staring-competition on the street the meekish looking one with the blue hair asked him if he was alright because "he seemed lost" (he absolutely did not.) which then prompted an entire series of events that ended is Tori sitting in this strangers families home - with an entirely different stranger also there - getting a serving of what he assumes to be radish soup. Tori feels a little sorry for the boy, Tomoya, as he said his name was, who seemed like he was previously engaged in a conversation with the other boy, who later introduced himself as Hajime and who had spent the entire way asking him questions about how he ended up here and what someone like him was doing all alone in a sleepy village neighbourhood like theirs and if he really didn't need a tissue (He hadn't cried while explaining how he was lost. He totally hadn't) and on and on and on as Tomoya had to awkwardly walk behind them.

So now, sitting at this table with these two people who he has only met today and who have given him a bowl of soup to warm himself up with, he has to tell everything about how he ended up in this situation in the first place. At the end of his recollection of this oh so wonderful day he is met with two pitying looks an a laugh - apparently one of Hajimes younger siblings had joined them at their little impromptu gathering (he wonders, distantly, how his own sister is doing right now).

And as he's about to say that he should probably make his way home and resume his mission another time when he has a map, Hajime mentions that he actually knows the guy Tori is talking about and that he lives at the local inn and that that isn't that far from them and that he and Tomoya can walk him there if he wants to. Tori agrees immediately. He is so over trying to be discreet about it at this point he really just wants some sort of success in this kind of ridiculous endeavour he's set out on.

So after the soup is finished and his limbs don't feel like they're about to fall off anymore the trio goes on their merry way and Tori feels a little silly because for all the walking around he did before they reach this inn really pretty quickly... maybe he should've thought to bring a map... The three of them venture further into the inn, and Tori only overhears Hajime talking to an older woman, but he's more occupied with looking around the place. It's father homely and rustic, a completely different atmosphere than at their place. There are noises from the few patrons sitting at the tables and chatting with each other, but it only add to the cozy feeling of the entire place.

When Hajime comes back he leads Tori up a little stairway and down a dimly lit hallway. They stop in front of a door at the very end of it (in my head there's a bit of a terasse thing happening there like. you can look down into the part where the tables are and such right right) and Tori barely has time to mentally prepare for the fact that this really is happening now before Hajime knocks and the sound of muffled steps approaching the door can be heard.

When the door finally opens (it's been a few seconds at best but it feels like an eternity), Tori is greeted by the lovely view of a pair of pale clavicles, barely covered by a black linen blouse. He has to actively look up to look at the face of their owner and when he is met with a pair of sharp, purple eyes he feels like his throat just sew itself shut. Hajime explains to Wataru that Tori was looking for him and suddenly a light seems to go up above Watarus head as a look of recognition flashes over his face and he turns around to Tori again and asks him if he's "the princess that Eichi's been telling him all about". Tori is confused. Hajime decides that this is his cue to leave and he slowly backs away to go back down and collect Tomoya, who's been roped into helping out with the catering by some elder gentleman (Wataru watches Hajime as he collects Tomoya and they leave, intrigued by this strangely average boy, as Tori just stares in horror as the realisation dawns upon him that he is now completely alone with this man whom he didn't even intend on speaking to in the first place).

So now he is here. In this very awkward situation. Sitting on a chair in this strangers room (for the second time today! Did he ever have a day this eventful? Who knows! Tori for sure doesn't.). He wants to talk, but Wataru is faster and asks him what he's doing here. Tori doesn't really know how to reply. How do you talk your way around having to tell someone that you actually got lost on the way to spy on them. That's right. You can't. Well, Eichi could. But Tori is Tori and he never wished for that to change more than he did now.

He looks out of the window and it is at that moment that another three major epiphanies reach him. Firstly that he doesn't know what to do now that he's here, secondly that he's going to get murdered by Yuzuru (and if worst comes to worst also Eichi) once he gets back because he's been gone all day without telling anyone and they're probably all worried sick, and last but not least: it is dark outside. He can't go home like that. He is virtually stuck in this predicament he found himself in.

Wataru seems to have a similar thought, because the immediate follow up question after not really getting a coherent answer from Tori is if anyone knows he's gone. Tori shakes his head. If Tsukasa ever finds out about this mess of a situation he will have to die because he would never let Tori live that down.

He gets ripped out of his incoming spiral by the bird that takes a seat on his head and Watarus over-the-top contemplative sigh and the slight lilt in his voice when he voices the next issue that's in the room. He isn't even speaking to Tori anymore, but to his bird that sits on Toris head, Jeanne, and Tori is starting to get annoyed by the way he jokes about this entire thing, calling Tori a "a little bird that escaped its nest", as if he isn't stuck having to prepare for his untimely demise. And by the way this guy hasn't put down his cryptic smile and teasing voice ever since he entered the room. When he thinks things can't get any more awkward for him Wataru proposes two options. Either he walks him home, or Tori has to stay at the inn for the night and he brings him back in the morning. Tori decides he'd rather go back home sooner than later (he'll have to take the lacture either way and he's probably caused everyone enough worries by now anyways. And also he misses his bed.). So Wataru grabs his coat, quickly goes to tell the inn-keepers he's "bringing retuening the princess to ger people" (Tori doesn't know if he liked the bird comparison better or not).

The way back is still very tense because Tori does not dare to walk next to Wataru (he's sketchy it's not Toris fault it's a normal reaction) and so he just awkwardly walks behind him, He doesn't really watch his surroundings - it is dark and the only nice thing is that it's snowing and there are animal sounds and they are spooky and he needs to watch the way and it's easier to think that way - until suddenly he gets hit by a snowball right in the head. And he is so baffled by this that he just stares at Wataru, and Wataru grins at him with his stupid stupid grin and somehow they end up in a snowball fight on this meadow where the only reason you can see anything is because of the snow and when they finally arrive at the mansion they both have so much snow in their hair and their clothes are wet from the melted snow and when they knock on the door and wait for someone to open Wataru gets some of the snow out of Toris hair and says that that snowball fight can be their little shared secret and Tori grins back at him and agrees and when the door opens and both of them are frantically ushered in by a maid that tells another one to get Yuzuru and Eichi Tori decides that maybe this guy isn'r so bad after all. Maybe he's actually quite nice.

#And then Yuzuru scolds both of them #but that's alright because Tori had a very adventurous day #Wataru stays over over the night again because Eichi doesn't let him leave in “this kind of weather” (it's a very mild little snowstorm) #the entire time I was just imagining the backside of that coin with Yuzruru and Eichi realising Tori is missing and all hell breaking loose #it's a little funny to me idk #this was very Tori centric no Eichi in this story just Tori and Hajime and a little bit of Tomoya and Wataru #and I you can tell I was less. yanno. here because I only got really self indulgent with that ending #ALSO IT IS THREE AM THIS IS MY FINAL MESSAGE TO THE WORLD GOOD NIGHT #And this got so unbelievably long I have been sitting here for HOURS #Never let me write scenarios ever again it will go way ouf of hand and by the end I will have forgotten how to english #and it will show #and I will accidentally write an actual fleshed out silly little scenatio instead of just a long post #also I think this is the longest as of yet how did I do this #do you know how hard it is to describle Hibiki Wataru without sounding like the gayest person on the planet? #this was easier when it was about Wataei and I could just wax poetically about him #I don't even care I'm just looking forward to going to sleep right now #this could've been better but I'm not a fanfic author for a reason #namely because I'm bad at it #bard/noble au

[starlingskulls]

they're at mad at me island i should cvt

#cvt #cvtting #I'm like ... 2 months clean question mark #i unfortunately am Very good at like .. invalidating myself abt sh and all #so I barely even count what I did as cvts lmao #I have a few scars that haven't faded yet on my thigh though so that's. something #you know how it is #and like of course do not take my words here as like . idk Truth. like #if you've got small ones that's still sh yk like. that's still ?? #i don't rlly know how to go abt talking here lol #i try not to log in too much. makes me worse I think #ur all valid is what I'm getting at #anyway . they are ignoring me on purpose bc I accidentally did something #and its making me feel like fucking shit but I don't want to tell them that bc like?? if they're reacting like this #over something I'm Also upset abt?? idk #i've been able to vent to them a Lot and have felt v safe abt it but mm. I'm unfortunately very sensitive lol #and idk if I will be able to confide in them for a fucking While again #I don't want to break my streak though. also I've always been afraid of bleeding so LMAOOOO #im not letting myself sleep tonight instead. haven't done that since hs but uhmm Oh Well it is what it is #doubt they're in these corners of Tumblr but if u know who this is Sowwy ! #🐦‍⬛posting

[mattodore]

it's actually so nice to have full shots in cas without the ui in the way now........ it's so clean.........

#river dipping #theodore doe #echthroi #i'm running on zero sleep so i'm like. very out of it and i'm just staring #i accidentally used my gameplay preset for these instead of the cas preset i normally use but it still looks pretty anyway........ #this could just be the theo effect tho #he just makes everything look more gorgeous yk #anyway............................................. i do need to sleep lmao #i really meant to get in cas today and make the sim i wanted to send in for this little bachelor challenge #but alas........ i spent all day reading and messing around online here and there... #but i did pick out a general reference for how i want the sim i'll be making to look! so i'm serious about it!! #i'll try starting tomorrow bc i think the deadline for the bc is the end of the month? woof #i really meant to do it dayssss ago idk what happened #....okay i'm rambling fr i'm going to sleep now MWAH

[italiantea]

hap.

#actually went out and did things with friends instead of cooping up inside #for the first time in. god i dont remember 8 years perhaps #had a quiet little get together. we ate hot pot #and cooked glutinous rice balls. in whiskey soup no less. cursed as hell but surprisingly tasty #played mario cart on switch ←4 people none of whom have touched a switch controller in their life #it was so funny. accidental screeshots left and right. i didnt know how to fire off my mushrooms for so long. #some guy looked at my screen instead of his own for 3 rounds straight #going to bed now bye bye my friends i am so dizzy im going 2 sleep for 16 hours straight<3333 finals week begone #have a lovely life or whatever go cook something in whiskey souo maube you'll like it #the ho rambles

[sassyhazelowl]

the yard is full of assassin bugs - assassin bugs are very brightly colored and I immediately want to handle them, but also, they are nasty little bastards with painful bites. we'll see if I last the year without getting bitten

#there are a ton of them #one lives on the eggplant #like right ON the fruit part of the plant #I did not see it and reached for the eggplant to inspect its growth #there are so many this year #plus tooooooons of widows #I accidentally flicked one into the fence yesterday whoops #was trying to brush it off the bird aviary #but it let go instead of providing the resistence I expected #whoosh thunk #hopefully she wasn't maimed and found a better place to sleep

[an-asuryampasya]

ah yes, the joys of being too tired to stay up but too worked up to fall asleep

#and my ceiling doesn't even have any fun bumps for me to stare at and map out #so i can't act out my usual joke of learning the contours of my ceiling by heart :( #(that's my go to response when someone asks what I've been up to because it's nicer than admitting i... do nothing of note) #(or at least nothing I'd like to tell them) #anyway i digress #is it essential to go back onto the previous topic after saying i digress? #like does that phrase mean 'anyway i went offtopic welp' #or 'i lost the thread but on circling back..' #because i did go off on a tangent but also didn't really have anything to add to the initial tooic #*topic #okay actually follow up question: if i lose track of the topic and get diverted #say i digress #and then end up switching to a THIRD topic like i accidentally did just now #then am i using the phrase 'i digress' wrong? #mhmmm okay maybe i shoukd just y'know #google it instead of whatever navel gazing this is #on that note I'm not sure i like the phrase 'navel gazing' very much #it's very dismissive and i am very self-important ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #OKAY STOPPING NOW #giving sleep another go wish me luck #placeholder tag

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

#Family Lore #Dogs #It's Halloween babey #friday the 13th #blood mention #I hope that kid had a good night and at least one of his friends believed him #Long post #Video

[angelfic]

— THE WAY I LOVED YOU

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him

warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit

author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌

The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.

It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.

The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.

Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.

You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.

It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.

Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.

The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.

“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”

“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”

The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”

“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”

”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”

“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”

“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”

Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”

Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”

Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”

“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.

You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.

Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.

You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.

“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”

“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”

“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”

“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”

“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.

The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.

“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.

You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.

As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.

Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”

You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”

This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”

You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”

“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”

Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”

The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.

“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.

“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”

Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.

You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.

“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”

“JORDAN.”

“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”

Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.

Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”

Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.

Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”

“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”

Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”

Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.

“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”

“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”

“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.

Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”

“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”

Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”

You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”

Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.

“Theo, don’t you dare.”

He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.

“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”

The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”

Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”

“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”

You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”

Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.

You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.

Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.

You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.

Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”

This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.

Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.

Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”

Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”

© angelfic 2023.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny Fenton is so damn sick of rich fruit loops. It’s worse now, since he’s one of them.

It’s not Vlad that he’s with, thank the Ancients, but Danny isn’t sure that this is better.

Because he’s Timothy Drake, a baby, and he’s been reincarnated after the Ancient of Reincarnation accidentally drank too much wine.

He’s going to kick their ass so hard when he gets back.

Danny huffs. He rolls over, ignoring the silent manor. Sure, he’s read the comics. Sure, he laughed and imagined being adopted by Batman- come on, Danny had black hair and blue eyes even back then, he was totally adoption bait- when his parents gave him reason to lose trust in their love. But that’s it, that’s all he thought it was. A day dream, a wish for a universe that didn’t exist.

Danny hadn’t understood the reality of the whole Infinite Realms thing, a place he was now the King of. Batman? Real. Danny? Reincarnated. Hotel? Trivago.

Like, this wasn’t what he meant, dammit.

And now he’s stuck as Timothy Drake, and Ancients, he was starting to see parallels.

——

Danny tried photography. He really did. He wanted to at least stick to the source material. But that’s not who he is. Even with the shiny new brain that memorized, catalogued, and put together clues at the snap of his fingers, but Danny’s never been one to take photos. It’s a respectable art, for sure, but Danny preferred to live in the moment instead of capturing it to remember forever. It’s just-

He watched the Graysons fall. He watched Dick Grayson turn into Robin. And Danny can’t and won’t ever betray his Obsession like that, ever again. He can’t let Jason die for his “story” to begin. That’s not how Danny works.

He’s there to protect.

Danny hasn’t ever been just Tim. Danny was also Tim and the Ghost King without a haunt. But now? Gotham is his haunt. He, in lieu of an actual city spirit, is Gotham. He’s also a Drake. And Drakes were meant to hoard.

Batman and Robin? They are his.

He claimed them, as a Drake. But that claim is weak. So he claimed them as their city, and that is a claim that will never be able to be challenged.

Danny’ll be damned before he allows some lanky starved clown beat the life out of one of his Robins. So, for the first time in his nine years on this planet, Tim-Danny goes ghost and flies.

“Who- who. Are you?” Robin slurred from his place in Danny’s hold. He is broken, yes. But not dead. Danny infuses some of his vitality, his ecto, into Jason’s injuries to help them heal.

“Gotham.” Danny replied, layering his ghostly voice with those of the city.

“Goth’m?”

“Gotham. Sleep, little bird. Your city has got you.”

When Robin, Jason, settled with a sense of trust that tugs at Danny’s core, Danny carried him to Batman, whose eyes were wild and manic. He glared menacingly at the green and white ghost in front of him, who was holding his broken and beaten son-

Well, it’d be menacing if Danny hadn’t watched him eat bricks and mortar, crashing into a building while using his grappling gun.

“You-”

“I am Gotham.” Danny cut him off. Despite his wary nature and natural paranoia, Batman settled at his city’s gaze rested on him. Danny knew that Batman recognized his city. Batman’s head bowed, but his eyes stayed on Robin. “You were supposed to take care of Robin.”

“I- I know.” And that voice was all Bruce Wayne the Dad instead of Batman the Vigilante. Danny gently placed Robin in Batman’s arms, taking in the tremors as he held his son close.

“Go back, Bruce. And make sure Jason knows how much you love him.”

He laughed as Bruce whipped his head upwards. “I am your city. You are mine as much as I am yours. I’ve known of you before you were born.”

Technically? Not untrue. But Bruce will chalk it up to weird magic shit. It’s not like it’s a secret that Gotham’s kind of curse. Besides, this way, Danny will be able to help out more often. And Bruce won’t be able to connect Tim Drake to the “Spirit of Gotham.”

“Return, my knight. This is not your city. I can not protect you as well as I can in Gotham.”

“Thank you… Gotham.”

Danny sighed. He wondered when he’ll have to field questions from a John Constantine. He’s pretty sure Bruce will call in magical help, even if it was his own city he was investigating.

Batman’s lucky Danny liked him enough to allow it.

#Danny is Gotham #danny phantom #Jason Todd #Jason Todd as Robin #joker is about to get haunted #bruce wayne #Gotham’s knight #batman #bamf danny phantom #ghost king danny #dc x dp #Danny is Tim Drake #he’s like nine #Jason Todd lives #joker? probably not #the bats: hmmm suspicious #also the bats: Gotham loves me! I’m doing the right thing! #dp x dc

[jasminesfury]

messy chaotic ‘we’re terrible for each other but can’t keep our hands off each other’ prompts

oh hello i am in fact alive

“do you ever actually think before speaking? like is your brain capable of processing a thought??” “yeah, it’s just immune to idiotic ones”

“take that back” “prove me wrong” (or; a cliché ‘make me’)

being in some sort of intense slightly pointless staring match (after an argument, preferably) and just saying “oh fuck it who cares” and pulling their neck down to kiss them

“do you the sex would be boring if we didn’t argue before it every time?” “i mean, we could always argue during”

^or, alt: doing it once when you’re not arguing instead kinda tipsy but not drunk, and it’s all giggles and laughter and sweet nothings and the next morning being like “oh fuck i actually like them”

“why does everything with you have to be so difficult!?” “it’s fun getting you all riled up”

“oh, if i had known that’s all it would take for you to shut up i would’ve done this ages ag-“ “only finish that sentence if you have a death wish”

“you’re doing it wrong” “jesus, would you just relax” “no because i’m wasting my tim- oh, oh my god-” the other character smirking, “don’t look so smug” “i think i’ve earned the right, now just trust me, okay? believe it or not, i want to make you feel good”

“so you’ll finally stop being an asshole and just sign the document?” “keep doing this and i’ll sell you my house”

getting jealous and the other character pretending that it’s unreasonable, but secretly character A is the only one they feel a spark with. the only one they feel excited to be around

“we should probably stop this” “yeah” … “we’re not going to though, right?” “oh absolutely not”

“nope no nada, no using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore”

“you really are a fucking asshole aren’t you?” “yes, i believe that’s what’s on my resume”

“i hate you” “i know” “and that won’t change” “i know” “and you’re still okay with this?” no “yes”

“imagine a universe where we didn’t hate each other, that would be so-“ “boring?” “yeah! like imagine not bickering over tiny things, that’s no fun”

“she says we bicker like an old married couple”

talking with a friend; “you shouldn’t go there” “i know” “and you shouldn’t sleep with them” “i know” “it’s a bad idea” “i know” “well. will you?” “..yeah”

“i know we’re terrible for each other but every time i look at them it’s just like my brain flies out the window and my hormones take over”

“we’re broken up, it’s just two friends going out for drinks, okay?” ending up in one’s bed, but alright

“did you sleep together?” “noooo, i just-“ “tripped on a stone and accidentally dailed his number which magically led to you two meeting at a pub and you just magically teleported to your bedroom without your clothes on? yeah, thought so”

#dialogue prompt #imagine your otp #dialogue snippet #otp dialogue #otp incorrect quotes #otp prompts #otp ship #romance #romance prompts #story prompt #writing #writing prompt #writing prompts #writblr #fluff #fluff prompts #love prompts #flirty banter #kiss prompts #flirty #suggestive #enemies prompts #friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #smut prompts #exes to lovers #exes to lovers prompts #romance prompt #fwb prompt #making up prompts

[luvjunie]

heyyy, idk if your request or open atm but could you write about miles (e-42) sneaking into the readers house at night, to hangout 🤗 nothing nasty LMFAOOO but like a cute lil moment

— 2:00 AM

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluff, miles being a big baby because yes

summary: miles has a hard time falling asleep when you’re not next to him. wc: 1,205

a/n: i loveee soft 42!miles omfg 😭 also i realized i changed up the plot a little after i’d already written it and came back to find the request, so i hope you still like it <3

Tossing and turning instead of getting a full night’s rest seemed to be the norm for Miles as of late.

He laid on his back with an irked sigh, hands scrubbing down his face as he lightly groaned into them. There was no need for him to check the time, he already had a pretty accurate guess seeing as he’d been checking his phone every twenty minutes when his eyes would spring back open after another failed attempt to fall asleep.

He missed you. That he couldn’t deny. He’d made the mistake of falling asleep with you one night, and he’s found himself suffering through the same old routine ever since. He’d never slept as peacefully as he did than when he was next to you, and his mind craved your presence more than it craved sleep apparently. The both of you could’ve slept on concrete and he still would‘ve sworn it was more comfortable than his own bed.

It was a stupid idea, and had he not been desperate for a solution he would’ve realized that. But there was no one to talk him out of it as he got up from his bed and fished around in his dimly lit room for his jacket and a pair of nike slides, so it looked like he’d be going through with it anyway.

He scribbled a quick note for his mom onto a post-it note, stuck it to the fridge for her to find after her shift and left their apartment without another thought, making sure to lock the door behind him.

Night walks through Brooklyn didn’t scare him, in fact they calmed him. Everything was quieter at this time, slower— and he knew these streets like the back of his hand. And even if he didn’t, he was pretty good with the switchblade he kept in his pocket at all times. Your place was only a few blocks away, and even through the slight haze casted over him from his lack of rest, he was still vigilant as ever.

He climbed the fire escape just three stories up until he got to your window, using both his hands to hoist him over the steel railing, his feet landing on the old metal as quiet as he could make them.

He hoped that you still kept it unlocked for him, that your offer stood firm when you told him he was welcome anytime. He whispered a plea before he curled his fingers under the edge, sighing in relief when the window lifted open, though the unpleasant squealing due to the age of the pane made him wince.

The last thing he wanted to do was wake you, so he only lifted it halfway, ducking down and stepping into your room and out of the cold. He glanced over to see your cheek still smushed against your pillow, your legs probably tucked into the fetal position with the way your blankets were swaddled around you.

He managed to close the window without making a sound, but on his way over to your bed he accidentally bumped into your dresser, causing a bottle of perfume to clatter into the other objects you had up there.

“Fuck—“ he hissed quietly, twin braids following the act of his head whipping in your direction when you stirred.

You weren’t the lightest sleeper, but the noise had been enough to startle you awake. Lifting your head from the pillow, you sat up quickly, eyes adjusting to make out who the hunched figure was. The two of you had said goodnight just a few hours ago, and now here he was, in your room.

”Miles?” There was a slight rasp to your voice.

“Hey, ma…” he responded, hands nervously hovering over the mess he’d unintentionally created. He fixed it to the best of his ability, but it definitely wasn’t the way you had it before.

You reached over and turned your clock towards you, the bright white numbers making you screw an eye shut.

“Miles, baby, it’s two am in the morning,” you grumbled sleepily, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands and yawning. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

Blinking the sleep from your sight, you took in his slightly slouched disposition. He looked exhausted, annoyance from his sleepless night evident in the way he sighed.

”Nah, nah,” he shifted from foot to foot, hand hesitantly raising to scratch his head. His idea seemed sensible at first. He was willing to do anything to get some shut eye, and to see you again, but now he just felt silly for waking you up for no good reason.

“Nothing happened, but I—I couldn’t sleep for shit. So I just thought—“ he rubbed his brow and gave a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know, it’s stupid. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight and I just wanna be laid up with you. I really didn’t mean to wake you up and I can leave if—“

“It’s okay! It’s okay,” you cut his rambling short and opened up your blankets, scooting over to make room for him. “Come on.” Even in your drowsy state you could tell he was getting flustered trying to explain himself.

“Oh thank God,” he said beneath a breath as he shuffled his jacket and shoes off, eagerly slipping into your bed beside you.

You shifted back onto your side like you were before and pulled the blankets over the both of you, his arm instantly slinking around your waist to pull your body into his, your back against his chest.

“I love you so much.” he sighed tiredly.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in through his nose just as your hand came up behind you to caress the top of his head. His behavior made it seem as if he hadn’t seen you in weeks; like he was trying to refresh his mind of every aspect of you.

“I love you too… Miles, are you sure you’re alright?” you asked, not yet all the way convinced.

“Mhm. Just needed to be with you.” he hummed, his words muffled as he pulled you closer.

“What about your mom? I don’t want her to be worried.”

He grunted at that, his response slurred and barely audible. “She know where I’m at.”

His fingers slipped under the waistband of your cotton sleep-shorts, hand traveling to the round of your lower stomach and resting over it. Why guys were so obsessed with the extra weight girls held there was still an anomaly to you. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it, but he always threw a fit if you didn’t let him hold you like that so you allowed it.

“Goodnight, Miles.” You murmured into the stillness of your room.

Your eyes opened after receiving no response from him, and you were barely able to turn your head to look over your shoulder since his own was occupying the space there.

“Miles?” you questioned gently.

Your answer came in the form of faint snores and slowed breathing from the boy who was knocked out behind you, a smile inching onto your lips at how quickly he dozed off. You let your eyes flutter to a close, ready to fall asleep again, but this time in the arms of your favorite person.

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡ #across the spiderverse fanfiction #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles 42 x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fluff #miles g morales x reader

[angelsforthenight]

MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader

ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸

do not buy tlou2 remastered!

a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3

you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.

cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.

“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.

see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.

but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?

“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.

that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.

your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.

you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.

“found him yet?” abby sighs.

“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.

“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.

“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.

“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”

your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.

“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!

“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.

despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.

“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.

“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.

with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.

you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.

“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”

“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.

“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.

“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.

it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.

“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”

“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.

the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”

“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”

“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.

“jealousy? really? grow up.”

“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.

“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”

you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.

for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.

“can you slow down?” you glare at her.

“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.

“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”

“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”

abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.

“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.

“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.

“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.

“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.

“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.

“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“

“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.

“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”

“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.

“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.

“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.

“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.

“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.

“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.

you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.

“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.

“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.

“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.

you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.

abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.

desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.

“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.

“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.

“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.

once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.

“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.

“what?”

“just do it.”

you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.

“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.

you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”

“don’t piss me off.”

you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.

“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”

“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.

“what was that?”

“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.

“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.

“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.

“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.

“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.

see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.

another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.

“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.

“use your words.”

“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.

“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.

“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.

“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.

“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.

abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”

“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.

before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.

“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.

“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.

abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.

“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.

abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.

“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.

“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.

that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.

“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.

“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.

“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.

“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”

and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.

“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.

so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.

a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson fanfic #tlou2 smut #tlou2 #wlw #smut #the last of us #abby the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #lesbian

[eihoons]

kissing their cheek when they're mad ✮

enhypen x reader , fluff , kissing their cheek when they're mad ( note: lowercase intended , thank u so much for the notes omg 😭 )

❝ heeseung ❞

he got a little mad since you came home a bit late than usual, and you promised to give him cuddles but you said you were too sleepy

you knew he was upset and you told him you'd talk to him in the morning since you were tired

but, he still slept on the same bed, except he isn't hugging you like he would every night

he did feel sorry but tried to keep the frown on

when morning came, you woke up alone so you got up and tried to look for heeseung

as he noticed your presence, he tried his best to ignore you but deep inside he wanted to hug your small, sleepy, and soft-looking figure : (

you went towards him and gave him a small peck on his cheek

"good morning," you said, and as you recalled the events from last night you asked him, "are you still upset? i'm sorry,"

you gave him a hug, and he could never stay mad at you so he hugged you back and placed a soft kiss on your forehead

"no, i'm not mad, i love you,"

❝ jay ❞

jay was upset since you somehow forgot you had a special date yesterday, and he had been planning this for a while now but you forgetting this broke his heart :(

so, as a consequence, he ignored you the whole day and not even sparing you a glance

you tried to keep apologizing but he kept replying with it's fine or it's okay but his expression says otherwise

you also wanted to talk to him but you knew it would lead to another argument and you knew it was your fault this time

by now, it was already nighttime and you were getting ready for bed

you decided to wait on the bed for jay but minutes were turning into hours and you knew he was probably sleeping in the other room tonight

so, you got up and went to him because it felt cold without him

but the only reason he was sleeping in another room was because he was afraid of accidentally raising his voice on you again

you snuggled onto him and pecked his cheek and whispered, "i'm sorry, you can get mad at me in the morning but i need to be with you right now,"

and that kiss alone was enough for him to let his guard down and he knew he had to forgive you because he felt really bad so he finally wrapped you in his arms

❝ jake ❞

tbh i don't think he can ever stay mad at you

but in this case, he was mad because of how he disliked you being fine with a friend getting all touchy with you

and you thought he was just being a little too overprotective and this may have lead into an argument

so, you were both ignoring each other but you knew this was quite immature so you were thinking about talking about it with him, carefully this time

you then went to him but as soon as you were getting close, all those apologies just vanished and you didn't know how to approach him properly

instead, you just tugged on one of his sleeves and gave him a kiss on the cheek and tried to walk away out of embarrassment

but before you could even go, he tightly engulfed you in a hug

"i'm sorry, baby, i'm not mad, i– i just–"

you cut him off with a kiss and hugged him tightly

then, you both promised to not fight again because it literally breaks his heart and he fr cannot stay mad at you

❝ sunghoon ❞

you just came home and you were welcomed by a frowning sunghoon

you changed your clothes and prepared for dinner but you noticed that sunghoon was a little quiet

you were trying to talk to him but all he responds with is either a hum or a nod

you were annoyed with this behavior of his so you confronted him and asked why he was acting this way and why he was so mad with you

he scoffed, "so now you're asking me why, huh?"

"but i didn't even do anything wrong!"

a couple minutes later, this lead into a small argument

you both continued to ignore each other but you were feeling sleepy

you were deciding whether or not to say good night to him but you couldn't resist him

so you went to him and kissed him on the cheek and told him good night but before you went away you turned to him once again and asked what have you done to upset him this much

so he finally answered, "why didn't you say you love me this morning, before you left,"

but he was too shy and embarrassed to look at you while saying this, and a blush was evident on his cheeks

you found it adorable and you pulled him in a hug and said, "sunghoon, you know i love you so much but although i forgot to say it, i hope you know that i always will love you, okay?"

he finally embraced you and gave you a kiss

❝ sunoo ❞

according to him you were being "annoying" today

so, he slowly avoided you and ignored you, but this will not stop you >:)

you went to him and he avoided your gaze

"sunoo, when will this stop, i already apologized,"

"just go away,"

having enough, you held onto his waist and pecked his cheek

he loved it but didn't admit it and a blush grew on his cheeks

you thought he hated it so you turned away

but, before you could even walk, he pulled your arm back and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek

"okay, i'm sorry too, i love you."

❝ jungwon ❞

he can never stay mad at you

you realized he was mad so you tried to give him some space and wait until he's ready to talk

but he wanted things to go the other way, he wanted you to talk to him and just give him a hug or a kiss; basically just pay him attention

he was so sad because he thought you were scared of talking to him

you two met in the kitchen, yet still no talking

you wanted to comfort him but you were too scared of the wrong words that might come out

instead, you gave him a peck on the cheek and a soft smile

he immediately pulled you into a hug because he felt really bad

"i'm sorry, i'm not mad. please talk to me now."

❝ ni-ki ❞

he was so pissed because he thought you were cheating on a game you were playing together

but you, on the other hand, found it funny because he simply could not accept his defeat

and, because of this, he got all mad and decided to ignore you

you were now sad and decided to approach him for the last time

"hey, are you really gonna ignore me for the rest of the day?"

still not getting an answer, you pecked his cheek and said, "i'll be in the room if you need me, okay?"

he tried to keep an "angry" face

he felt so bad seeing the frown on your face

not even an hour later, he entered the room holding two controllers in his hand

"i'm really sorry, y/n. can we play again and be fair this time? and.. can i have a kiss again?"

© eihoons

m.list

#enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #heeseung #heeseung x reader #jake #niki x reader #jay #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunoo #sunoo x reader #jungwon #jungwon x reader #niki #niki enhypen