#whoever originally had the previous tag is right

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (11)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, twelve!

Notes and TW: Congratulations! You have successfully made it all about you (positive). This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Sorry that the tags haven't been working for the past couple of posts! I had to go in and edit the html for each individual one T-T please forgive me

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi

A strange sense of satisfaction fills you as surprise fills the man’s face, but you don’t show it. You need to see this through. If you’re powerless in the face of his ability, you simply need to borrow his power. So what if he’s akin to a god? All you need to do is bring him to your side. Whoever that author is, whoever took over (Y/N)’s body—maybe they aren’t capable of using such an asset effectively. However, you’re confident you won’t let that advantage go to waste.

The man hums in thought. “I suppose it could be done without much fanfare. I would simply need to shift my attention to your experiences and abandon the current story. However, you would need to have your story recorded somewhere, in whatever form you may wish for it to take.”

You understand what he’s getting at. A story needs a medium, just like that manuscript. There are many options: on film, as a novel, as a collage of pictures. No strict rules exist for expression of self.

“I’ll keep a journal. Every day, I’ll write an entry, and I’ll also use it as a planner. This way, my ‘story’ will have the events that occurred in my life, how they affected my ‘character development,’ and also outline how I expect the story to ‘progress.’ Is that good enough?”

You still don’t think of yourself as a fictional character. You’re real, in every aspect, to yourself. But that doesn’t matter right now. Functionally, you’re a character to this man. You’ll use that assumption to put yourself in the most advantageous position.

“Yes, that would be a rather interesting way to tell your story. There are indeed many stories that were written in the form of diary entries, so this is not an issue at all. This would, in fact, make things easier for me. I would not have to go through the paperwork and expend energy to bring someone from another world since you already exist in Twisted Wonderland as an established character. There is just one thing you should know before you make this decision.”

“Tell me.” Of course there are strings attached. There always are. You prepare yourself. Self-sacrifice in small amounts is necessary, of course, but if there’s anything you can negotiate with . . . .

“I will have to take the previous author’s soul out of (Y/N)’s body. (Y/N)’s soul will regain control of her own body, since it was never removed, only dormant. Since the author’s original body cannot function without a soul, she cannot return to her world. It will disappear, never to be recovered, lost to the fabric of what forms this space. Are you still willing to proceed?”

“Is that it?” You expected something else. This has nothing to do with you giving up anything. In fact, it could even be considered a bonus. This woman whose story made your life and relationships exceedingly difficult will disappear down to the traces of her soul. It’s an easy decision. “Of course.”

“How cold-hearted you are.” He chuckles down at his teacup. It never seems to drain empty no matter how he sips it. “That is not an undesirable quality in protagonists, although they often do not have a happy ending in fairytales.”

“Is that supposed to deter me or something?” You stay resolute. “My future was always uncertain no matter if it’s a story or not. I’m in the mafia. I’ve come to terms that horrible things could happen at any moment because of the nature of my job a long, long time ago. It’s my responsibility to plan so that I reduce those chances as much as possible. And you’re going to help me.”

“Yes, I am.” He glances at the fireplace, which has burned down to glowing red embers. “Perhaps you should count yourself lucky that you are under my jurisdiction. I am partial to tragic endings, but I also do not mind if an amoral character triumphs in the end. Some of my peers would adamantly ensure it does not happen.”

You furrow your brows. This is not the first time he brought up something being under his “jurisdiction.” However, this is the first time he’s mentioned “peers” instead of “characters.”

“There are others like you?”

“Yes, of course. Twisted Wonderland is filled with too many stories for me to manage on my own. Since you are mainly involved with the Leech Mafia and stories of the Coral Sea, you fall under my jurisdiction.”

It makes sense. This man compared himself to a god, but he isn’t one. He isn’t omnipotent or omniscient.

“Who are they?”

He tilts his head. “You would not know us even if I told you.”

“I’m curious. Tell me anyway.”

“Such a curious character.” He glances at the embers again. “Alright, I see no harm in it. My peers overseeing Twisted Wonderland include Walt Disney, the Brothers Grimm, Hanna Diyab, Victor Hugo, and Lewis Carroll, among others.”

None of these names ring a bell. It is just a list of names, but having more information is never a bad thing.

“And your name? I should know how to address you.”

“Oh, I have not yet introduced myself to you? My apologies, I must be turning forgetful in my old age.” He laughs at himself in a good-natured manner. “My name is Hans Christian Anderson. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

You introduce yourself as well. He extends a hand to you. When your hands connect in a firm handshake, the new deal you’ve made feels solidified.

Anderson looks at the fireplace one more time. The light has died completely, the little room lit only by the moonlight pouring in the window. With a gentle but decisive clap of his hands, he stands from his armchair.

“That was a fruitful discussion, and I thank you for your patience and understanding. I fear time has run out, however, and so I will be sending you back shortly. I’ll place you right back where you came from: at the moment when I brought you here.”

“Hold on!” Too soon, too sudden. You still have so much to say. He holds up a hand, stopping your protests.

“If you’d like to communicate with me, simply write a request for it in your new journal. I wish you best of luck.”

And with that, the world goes white again.

This is the story of a girl whose name is no longer hers. A girl so common that she may as well be a faceless background character in another person’s story. A girl who wishes, more than anything, to be the protagonist of a love story that will sweep her off her feet and solve all her problems.

Her family is normal. Her friends, too. And so is she. It isn’t enough for her. The world inside that game she plays is so magical, so whimsical, so perfect. The characters are handsome, powerful, clever, funny, or rich, or some combination of those qualities. If she enters this world, surely all those wonderful characters would treat her as someone special. They’d love and revere her unconditionally. She pines for a man who would love her and her shortcomings in their entirety, no matter what she does.

The beauty about fictional characters is that because they are fictional, they can be whatever she wants them to be. She can wholeheartedly believe they’ll love her, and there is nothing wrong with that. But she isn’t satisfied with that alone. It needs to be real.

Desperately, she writes a story revolving around a faceless, flawless main character who she desperately wishes she could be. Everyday, the writing consumes her, dragging her into a fantasy of bliss. She begins to resent her reality. Nobody in real life will love her the correct way. Nobody can be as good as the characters she pours her love and headcanons on. She doesn’t consider how love can be gradual, nor does realize someone might have to get to know her before loving her. After all, in her fanfiction, the perfect mafioso loves her main character upon the first meeting and devotes himself with no questions asked. Isn’t that the ideal love?

One day, a miracle occurs. She meets a man who offers to make her story into her reality. Jumping on the chance to live her perfectly crafted life of happiness, she agrees. Finally. Finally, she will be loved the way she wants.

At first, everything went perfectly. Real life follows her fanfiction to the letter. Jade is charming, Floyd is endearing, and a string of coincidences leads her to meet Vil, another handsome bachelor. Love surrounds her at every turn. All she needs in this life are the handsome men who give her special treatment. After all, this body, this life—(Y/N)—was created by her, for her use. All of the previous relationships this body entertained no longer matter. They aren’t hers, anyway.

The polaroids that occupied her nightstand are probably in a landfill somewhere. The aesthetic was cute, befitting the tastes of a character she modelled after herself, but the person in them is irrelevant. Some side character she’s never going to see again. No matter; she’ll eventually replace those polaroids with cute photos of herself and her new love. (Y/N)—no, the placeholder—has served its purpose. It will not miss those useless decorations since it will never again have its own consciousness.

So where did it all go wrong? Perhaps it was wrong from the start. She should have cursed that old man for scamming her. Her happy ending was never a guarantee. How dare a throwaway side character upend her perfect, fairy tale ending? Is that even allowed? They’re all just characters anyway. How can they steal from a real person?

Until the very end, she couldn’t see anyone around her as anything other than characters in a story. Maybe if she did, she might have gotten the love she wanted. Now, she disappears, having never achieved the goal she so desperately grasped at. Like seafoam, her hopes and yearning for love bubbles and disappears.

Hans Christian Anderson places a book into an empty spot on one of his many shelves. He has always been fond of tragedies. As for this new story that’s unfolding . . . who’s to say how it will end? He’s a patient man. With a smile, he settles into an armchair and sips from a cup of tea. He’s looking forward to it. When it eventually ends, like all stories inevitably do, he’ll shelve it and find another story to bring to life.

The world suddenly flashes into focus. The sun’s dying embers flicker on the sea. Sand shifts between your toes. Fingers graze your neck. Before you can activate your Signature Spell, (Y/N) crashes into you and you both topple over into a bed of sand. Bloodlust raises the hairs on the back of your neck. But it isn’t coming from (Y/N). Instead, you instinctively wrap one arm around her and hold the other one out in front of you, shielding her from Jade.

“Wait, wait! Jade, it’s fine. I’m okay.”

He freezes. One of his hands stops a centimeter away from (Y/N)’s hair. She doesn’t react. Slowly, you lay back down, heaving a sigh. You shift her face to the side so that she doesn’t suffocate in your shoulder. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheekbones, complementing the slow rise and fall of her ribs.

“See? She’s asleep.”

Jade furrows his brows. “I fail to understand. Most importantly, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, staring up at the stars that unveil themselves in the darkening sky. “I’m just a little tired.”

You explain everything to him. He seems skeptical, but eventually, he accepts it. He sits in the sand next to you, his hand covering yours. You pretend not to notice, but it offers a soothing calm to your exhausted mind.

“I’m sorry,” you say, glancing at his side profile. “Even if I write that Vil Schoenheit will cure your parents, it might not happen because of continuity issues. Maybe (Y/N) will still be able to convince him.”

“That’s alright.” He catches your gaze. “It would make the story progress more smoothly if we continue with our talks with Walrus.”

He accepted it so quickly. For that matter, so did you. You wonder briefly if there is something at play that makes you accept the reality of your situation as fact—if it’s because you’re a character after all—but that’s all speculation. Not worth your time and energy to figure out.

“Bottom line is, this is my story now. So I’ll make sure the curse on your parents is dispelled.”

“How reliable.” Jade gives you a gentle smile, one that causes an unfamiliar stirring in your chest. “Thank you. What would you like in recompense?”

You weren’t expecting him to offer anything at all. But since he offered, you aren’t one to refuse.

“Money.”

His quiet laughter blends in with the sound of rushing waves.

“No hesitation at all, I see. Of course, I will pay you adequately for your invaluable help.”

“I also want something else.” You fiddle with the strands of (Y/N)’s hair. “I’d like a vacation. Just a week or two after everything settles down so I can go back to my hometown with my mom.”

“Is that what the money is for?”

“Yeah.” Your heart feels a little lighter. “You should visit the Coral Sea after your parents wake up as well. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with them.”

A pause. You scrutinize Jade’s expression in the low light, but his expression is wholly unfamiliar to you. He almost looks . . . nervous.

“Would you come with us?”

You blink. “Don’t you want to spend time with just your family?”

“Yes, but my parents would be delighted to have you over again. You have not been to our home under the sea in a long time, and I would be more than happy to show you around again.”

“It won’t be a bother?”

“Far from it.” His thumb rubs softly against the back of your hand. “I . . . We are very fond of you.”

You can’t help but think there’s an ulterior motive, but you accept. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve travelled to their home under the sea, and this most likely won’t be the last.

Suddenly, (Y/N) shifts on your chest. A soft noise escapes her lips as though she’s finally awakened from a long nap. Her bleary eyes find yours. Kind, lovely, and gentle eyes. The eyes of the (Y/N) you know and love, the eyes of your friend.

“Huh? Are we on the beach? What happened?”

A relieved laugh bubbles out of your throat and you hug her tightly. Confused but sweet, she reciprocates with reassuring pats to your arm.

“Yeah, we’re on the beach. Let’s get you home.” You sit up and smile as she fusses over the sand in your hair. Normalcy is slowly but surely returning. “I’ll tell you everything on the way there.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst x reader #twst jade #twst fanfic #jade leech x reader #mafia au #multi chap fic #slow burn

[moralesmilesanhourlibrary]

sunflower

summary: you begin to recieve flowers from an anonymous source. originally posted: sept. 22, 2019 (wtf I was posting fics damn near every day)

You open your locker to pack up for the day and go home, and there they are.

Sunflowers.

Yesterday it was roses, last week it was daisies. It was a sweet gesture, until you found a bouquet of sunflowers on your desk with your name on the tag. This person was in your class, and knew where your desk was, and who YOU were. Curiosity peaked, you meet up at Miles and Ganke’s dorm to discuss.

“So now I have like, 3 bouquets of flowers and petals all over my locker and I really need to know who it is-”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down [Y/N],” Ganke interrupted. “Are you saying you have a secret admirer?” You nodded, frantically. You’d only met Miles and Ganke the previous week, but, for some reason, you felt you could tell them a whole lot.

“I need you to help narrow down who could be giving me all these damn plants, because I’m running out of space in my vase at home,” you frowned. Miles smiles to himself at the thought of you taking the flowers home and caring for them. “They’re obviously in my homeroom, since they know where my desk is at, right? Miles, who’s in our homeroom?”

Startled out of his thoughts, Miles finally speaks after having been silent this entire time.

“Uh, there’s me and you, Andre, Miranda, and… That’s all I know.”

Sighing in frustration, you plop down on Ganke’s bed next to where Miles sat.

Impishly elbowing your arm, Miles, asks, “Is there anyone you want it to be?” Not catching onto the joke, you actually answer. “Hmm. I hope whoever it is is like, really sweet and artistic. I like artsy types.” Miles feels a glimmer of hope at that. “You’re mad corny,” he laughs.

The next day, you find more sunflowers and daisies in the holes of your locker, but there was something else there, too.

Stuck to one of the bigger sunflowers was a baby-blue sticky note, your name written in a bubbly font and decorated with neon patterns. Cute.

Miles opened his locker next to yours.

“More flowers?” he asked. You smiled and showed him the sticky note. “Look, they drew this, too! Isn’t that cute?” Miles smirks a little, though you don’t know why.

—

It was a Friday, so you texted Miles that you were coming over to hang out. Before you even ring the doorbell, he opens the door to let you in, beaming.

“Hey [Y/N], pizza’s here already. Don’t just stand there, now!” After greeting his parents, you both head to Miles’ room with the box of pizza. Of course, his Bluetooth speaker was blasting Swae Lee. You still had the sticky note in-hand as you sat on his bed, taking a slice of pizza.

“You good, Gonzalo? You been mad quiet lately.” Snapping out of his gaze at the mention of his middle name, Miles replies, “I’m fine, I’m fine. No need to use my government name.” Looking up, you notice a pop of color on Miles’ desk. It was piled with sketchbooks containing elaborate designs that looked like they belonged on a mural.

“Those are nice,” you tell him, pointing at the pile of drawings. “Thanks, made em myself, you know.” Miles internally facepalms himself. They’re on your desk, of course she knows they’re yours!

You get up from the bed to get a closer look at Miles’ designs. The circular lettering and neon color palette look… familiar. Then you take the sticky note out of your back pocket. A sheepish grin creeps onto your face as everything starts to make sense.

“Miles, you been giving me all those flowers?” Smiling playfully, he gives you a big shrug that said, ‘I’ve been caught, so yeah.’ You suck your teeth in feigned annoyance and hit Miles with a pillow. You both descend into uproarious laughter as you continue hitting him. “I really hate you, bro!”

“What, I’m the artsy type!” Miles jokingly exclaims, earning him another smack with the pillow. The two of you flop back down on his bed, exhausted from all the laughing.

“Did you buy all those flowers yourself?” you finally ask. Miles replies, “Yeah, man! 20 bucks each,” and you snort a little.

“All that for a prank-?”

“It wasn’t a prank.” Miles’ tone is somber, now. He isn’t grinning anymore. You don’t understand.

“What does that mean,” you prod further. He turns his head to look you directly in the eye. “Well… I kinda like you. Just a little. So I got you flowers.” You continue staring at him, at which he says, “…sorry?” You sit up, and so does Miles.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you tell him as you pull him into a suffocating hug. “Wanna go out sometime?”

Miles chokes out a muffled, “Yes!”

#miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #category: og fic

[curatoroffiction]

Seductive Speechcraft Midterms: Part 4

Summary:

It's Belphegor's turn to attempt to vie for your soul in the setting of an exam. His attempt is very different from the ones you've encountered so far.

Warnings: - Unreality tag for this one. Belphegor's magic messes with the reader's mind and alters their perception of reality ----- Previous Chapters: - Intro Chapter - Satan's Seduction - Mammon's Magnetism -----

Belphegor's Beguilement:

You don't end up going back into the exams until the next day. When you originally came back from your lunch with Mammon, the teacher checked your energy levels and told you to take the rest of the day off.

So when you come in today, you're fresh and ready, and once again excited to be here.

You have no idea who'll come through that door, but you've brought your collection of props again. The proctor assessing your performance in this exam motions for you to get ready for the first exam taker of the day, and to let her know when you're ready.

You reach into your bag of persona prompts and you pull out "Busy". Okay, you can work with that. You grab your laptop and set it up on the table and you pull up a game to play. You have headphones that you connect and use to immerse yourself. Whoever is coming in will be testing on hardmode. You motion to the teacher that they can send in the first student, and you begin playing.

The game you've chosen is an open-world RPG, so you're following quests and collecting goods and unlocking story lore.

You almost forget that you're in the middle of an exam, until you smell the soft scent of warm melon and honey. A scent you're most familiar with from the youngest of the brothers. He moves to sit beside you, and you can see that he's brought his own book.

He's planning to ignore you?

Well that's fine. You're pretending you're a busy person.

You choose to ignore him right back. You're playing a particularly difficult questline. Given that this is a game you've played a lot, and you're actually invested in the plot, it's not hard for you to ignore him. Especially given that you're wearing your headphones.

You gently yawn. Despite it being the first exam of the day, and having had caffeine just beforehand, you feel the gentle lull of every warm delight of slumber tugging at your mind. Ah, so this is his impact. Interesting.

You're a little interested, given that you've never really gotten to see Belphegor use his power in an attempt to attract you and make you want to know more. Even when he was in the attic, it was less.. 'Dreamy' and more 'Nightmarish'. But you find yourself yawning again, and this time it feels like you're struggling to keep a straight thought towards your video game. You're distracted and thinking about Belphegor.

How is his power affecting you? You're not looking at him, you haven't looked him in the eye- It can't be his scent.. Can it?

Ahh.. Dammit.

It's definitely his scent. That's how he's invading your senses. You have to cut that off, or you'll find yourself lulled out of your work. You reach into your book bag at your feet and take out a small balm of vapo rub. You usually use it to help yourself when the air of Devildom is particularly horrible - But you know it'll work in this instance. You apply a small dab under your nose to replace the scent, and your senses are flooded with the thick scent of vapo rub.

And it's no surprise to you that you suddenly feel much more awake.

You put the balm back into your book bag, curious to see how he'll deal with your resourcefulness. You return to your game, and for a while, it seems like he's not even trying. No approach. No attempt to connect.

Is he capable of affecting you in other ways?

It's not until a little while later that he produces a small soft drink and slides it across the table to you. You pause your game and look up to see the can. You glance up to him and see that he's looking to his book as he wordlessly offers you the drink.

"... Are you offering that to me?"

"Sure. You look like you could use some refreshment."

You pick up the drink, looking it over. It's a can, unopened. There's no reason to believe that it's what poses the danger here. You look him over once and pause, but you can't find a reason that a typical human wouldn't accept aside from preference. Right now, he's coming across as a gentle stranger.

You decide to take the drink, cracking it open and taking only a sip, just to test the waters.

When you do, you expect for him to ask something about it. Or maybe to follow up and see if you're responding to his influence yet.. But he just continues to passively read his book. You expect to feel his power ebbing at the edges of your mind - You expect for yourself to be overwhelmed by drinking the drink.. But nothing comes.

You feel as in control of yourself as ever.

You return to your game, once again refocusing yourself. You're meant to be busy. The game takes you into a small village where you have to use your character's senses to solve a mystery- And you can still give it your whole attention. Still, in the quiet moments, when the work is mindless and you're killing monsters that are attacking you, you can't help but to feel the... Monotony of it all.

Your mind keeps coming back to Belphegor, who is sitting only a chair away from you.

You feel his voice dancing on your thoughts, and you feel drawn to look towards him. What is he reading? You only take a glance, but you quickly catch that it's a book about artificery - Which piques some deep part of your mind that dances with the fancy of the unknown.

You realize at once that you're under his influence again, but how did he do it? His voice soothingly plays in your mind once again. 'You look like you could use a break' - But that's not what he said, right?

He knows exactly how to tantalize a human, how to play into their deepest desires. The demon of dreams. He can tell when he's got your interest piqued, and he'll make you think every point of engagement is your own choice. How is he doing it?

Was it sound?

You're not sure, because as soon as you disengaged, all you can hear in your mind is the sound of your game.

If that was his influence, did you break it, or did he release you?

It's driving you a little nuts that you can't tell the difference. Mammon's influence was easy to see because he was trying to impress - But.. Belphegor's playing a much longer game. A much slower game. The avatar of sloth. He can afford to wait.

You can hear through your headset as he opens himself a drink, sipping it as he reads. You feel a yearning tugging at your chest, wanting to engage. He seems so gentle and easy to approach. You want to ask about his book. You want to know about his interests. You want to hear his gentle, warm voice envelop you with every answer. What's wild is that it feels so.. organic. Like he's a stranger passing you on a rare chance, and you can take it.

And unlike some demons' influences, you're not feeling fear when you tell yourself not to engage. You feel regret, but it's like the soft regret you feel when you want to tell a stranger that they look nice, but you're too shy to get it out. It doesn't feel like you're being pulled by strings.

You decide to break the silence and engage with him to see where it goes. A typical human would engage. You pause your game and look to the demon. ".. Do I know you?"

He pauses in his reading, glancing to you as though surprised that you're engaging with him. He makes it seem so natural. He really does make it feel like you're the one approaching him. "Hmn? I'm sorry, I was really deep in my book. Can you repeat that?" He grins sheepishly, his hand holding the book resting in his lap as he gives you all of his warm attention. You feel shy, warm, as though you're basking in the soft glow of the embers of a campfire.

"... I was asking if I knew you." You feel almost embarrassed that you ask again. You find yourself yearning to make a good impression. Like you need to match his energy.

"Oh, no. Sorry if I confused you. I always bring extra drinks for the people around me. You looked busy, so, I figured you could use one." His smile is so warm and organic. Like he thinks your misunderstanding is funny, but in an endearing way. Wait. Your misunderstanding?

This isn't a misunderstanding.

He's really worming his way into your mind.

You have to disengage.

You turn back to your computer. "Ah, well.. Thank you."

"No problem." He's back to reading his book. It's easy for him to disengage from you. There's no pressure from him. You feel no pressure. The only pressure you really feel is the pressure to reach out. You want to reach out. You want to ask more. You want to know more...

But you keep disengaging.

He turns the page, and you can hear it through your headphones. Even when you're disengaging, you can hear it, and feel it, and each turn of the page, however slow, however long it takes... It anchors you back to him. You get lost in your game, but soon enough, the turning of the page comes through once again. It's not invasive. It's almost exciting. You almost look forward to the sound of the turning of the page as you try to lose yourself in the escapism of the game.

Soon enough, you find yourself slowly.. bored. The plots of the game are too.. Overdone. You've played RPGs before. Fight the monsters, collect the treasure, learn the lore.. But even learning the lore seems so.. Unattractive in this moment.

He turns the page, and your mind sparks with excitement. He's interesting. He's an unknown. You have no idea who he is, and yet, he seems so.. Inviting. And what of artificery? Is it a real study? Is it a fiction book that he's playing with? Who's the author? You feel like you want to know more.

You've forgotten what artificery even is.

You've forgotten who he is.

You've forgotten that this isn't real.

All that's real is this moment, and it's a chance to get to explore something magical.. Magic doesn't exist. You know that there is no magic in this world. You have no magic.

You look to your game and you feel like you're just busying yourself with escapism - But he could be a real escape from the monotony of the world around you.

You hear the distant scribbling of the proctor's notes as they watch, and it brings you back to the moment.

You know that magic is real, and that it's real because you're not in your world anymore. Artificery is your biggest passion. You're a leading mage in the field.

How did he make you think it wasn't real? How did he revert you back to a time when it wasn't real to you?

And wait, you know him. This is Belphegor.

In this brief moment of clarity where you can remember who you are and what's going on, you remember you need to stop this. You have to completely disengage. If you don't, you'll lose this. You close out of your game and close your laptop and begin getting up to leave. As you leave, you hear him call after you - "Hey, do you want your drink?"

And you look back to him reflexively, your guard being completely down as you catch a dooming glimpse of his eyes. His violet eyes soothe your soul, gently beckoning you to come back, to sit with him in this escape. He can take you to places you've never thought could exist. He can make every dream you've ever had feel insignificant with the excitement he can bring to your life.

This is a chance.

No.

This is a choice.

You gently wave your hand. ".. No, thank you." and break eye-contact, walking out of the scene.

When you reach the wall, you lean against it, the pressure of his influence still making your heart yearn - Because his influence, though he's ended it, was tugging at your deepest dreams and desires. He stoked a flame inside you and made you want to know more. You feel like you missed out, even though the scene is over.

Seeing you lean against the wall, he breaks character to check in on you. "Hey, ___, are you okay?"

"Yeah, that was just.. intense. Still is." You look up to him and see his concern. But what you don't see is his thought process.

So when he says "I'm sorry, I tried really hard not to push it, and to not use too much of my influence on you. I didn't want to remind you of when I-..." He cuts himself off, sheepish at his own faults, worried that he's hurt you.

".... That was you PULLING your power??" Your exclamation surprises him and he is visibly startled. You begin laughing as your previous emotions bubble away. "God.. It's no wonder I'm still feeling like I missed out. You made it so real, and SO organic, I thought it was all me - And I think it was."

The professor cuts in and motions for you two to come over for your assessments.

"You did an amazing job of discretely cutting off points of influence from Belphegor. This was absolutely an instance of him just knowing his power and strength well enough to keep finding new points of contact." She explains, looking over her notes.

You cut in - "How WAS he getting through? Was it the sound?"

"Yes, absolutely. Originally, he got through to you through the scent, then through sound, and something you didn't catch onto was that he got through to you through the drink."

"But the drink was closed and felt so.. Normal. I didn't get ANY whiff of magic off of it."

"Yes, but he wasn't just getting through to you with magic. He was toying with you by tantalizing your natural human curiosity. It was truly an amazing display of cunning and an in-depth understanding of humans and how their minds work." The proctor sounds genuinely impressed with Belphegor's performance in the exam.

"It really was." You nod in agreement. He absolutely would have gotten you if you hadn't been able to distract yourself and tether yourself back to reality with the teacher's distant sounds of scribbling. Honestly, it took a great amount of effort to pull yourself back from that. You grin to him, and see that he's visibly shy about your praise.

- ".. Thank you." He smiles softly, looking away.

The teacher motions to you. "Back to you, I'm especially proud that you avoided eye-contact. You're getting better at that. He definitely pulled some tricks out to get you to make eye-contact. If he weren't so good at helping humans bring their guards down-"

You can see how Belphegor's shy warmth shifts into embarrassed guilt as the teacher goes on about how great he is at manipulating humans. You clear your throat. "And my performance?" redirecting her focus away from him, so he doesn't have to listen to how good he was at manipulating you.

"Ah, yes, your performance was admirable. You held your own, you stealthily protected yourself, and you appropriately disengaged when it became apparent that you were outmatched. Can I ask, how did his influence feel?"

".. Ahhh.." You pause, glancing over to him. He seems to be cautiously watching you. "Well, it felt.. Real. Like he was a magical stranger in the sense of being someone who was exciting and new and charismatic without even trying. I found myself forgetting core details about myself, which I think was the height of his influence. He somehow made me forget artificery, even though it's something I love dearly and am very passionate about. He somehow made it feel like it was a dream he could show me existed. I have no idea how he did that, but.. Damn."

Belphegor looks away, feeling guilty that he even did that to you. Having gotten his feedback, he heads towards the door.

The teacher is ecstatic though. She gives you both high marks for the occasion. She's about to tell you to get ready for the next one when you go "I'm gonna need a breather after that one. To get my head straight, if that's okay."

"Oh, absolutely. Please, take your time. Return soon though, we do have others waiting."

You follow Belphegor out of the room. He pauses and turns to see you.

And for a moment, you're both quiet.

"... Are you okay?" You ask, worried that he's shutting down.

He nods. "... Are you?"

You nod, giving him a gentle smile.

He feels embarrassed that you're checking in on him. "..."

"Do you wanna hang out later? I'll be pretty exhausted after the exams, and I'll definitely need someone to help me wind down."

"... Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I still feel safe with you."

He looks away, extra embarrassed, but he holds his arms out for you. You close the distance and warmly hug him, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He hugs you back, and you can hear how he decompresses into you, his exhale sounding like he was holding a lot inside. You two stand like this for a long moment, soaking in the comfort of each other's arms, and the safety you've built with each other.

You take as long as you need to recover from this one, and he does too. ----- If you like my writing and wanna check out other works I've done, check out my Masterlist/Rules I write pieces like this and more on my AO3 too!

#obey me #obey me! #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #fic #om belphegor #belphegor om #belphie #belphegor #obey me! belphegor #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #om! belphegor #om! belphie #belphegor x reader #reader insert #GN Reader #Gender Neutral Reader #Gender Neutral MC #GN MC #seductive speechcraft #attempted seduction #seduction #tw unreality #unreality

[ladytanithia]

Writing WIP Wednesday (3/13)

I don't have an art WIP this week, because I haven't made any progress on any previous WIPs, and the recent pix I've done are complete and I'll be posting them on my art blog (@tanithias-art-blog) shortly. I haven't done any more on Miranja's original story lately, either, because I've been collaborating on some little side stories with @lillxart and her OC, Snow White! So this week's WIP is a couple of paragraphs from the sequel I've been writing to the story she wrote for me.

Tagging @dirty-bosmer @gwilin-stay-winnin @skyrim-forever @thequeenofthewinter - I feel like my friends are falling away, but they're off living their best lives, so more power to them!

Without further ado:

Snow had begun weeping as she spoke of Ondolemar. They’d wanted to marry, she said, but through her own misguided choices, he had died before they ever could. That was when she learned the pain of losing love, losing a loved one. And Miranja felt that pain right along with her. The women cried together with great, gasping sobs, even wails. Snow let go of her own arms and clung to Miranja, who turned to wrap both her arms around the smaller woman. Snow White had had her time to grieve and scream and curse and cry, but even so, she still felt the need from time to time, and retelling it had overcome her, despite her best efforts. Miranja, on the other hand, had yet to fully mourn Talvas. She’d never been alone long enough, and when she’d been with people, she’d been afraid of making them too uncomfortable by expressing her raw emotions. But here, alone with Snow, who was already crazy as a bedbug, she didn’t have to hold back. She could release her heart’s agony and wash a large part of the pain away with her cleansing tears, scream at the Divines or the Daedra – whoever was responsible for the turn of events that had ripped Talvas from her arms. They cried for different men, but they cried together in solidarity, and sharing the pain was comforting to both of them.

A traveler passing near the tower heard the sobbing and wailing, and ventured closer to see who was in such distress and whether he could help. But as he neared the end of the path leading to the tower’s steps, the skeleton guards snapped their attention toward him. He gasped, blood running cold, and with eyes and mouth wide with terror, he turned on his heel and ran as if the death hounds of Coldharbour were pursuing him. If there were armed skeletons, he reasoned through his unreasonable fear, then something terrible must be happening in that tower, perhaps a Daedric ritual with a human sacrifice. A certain old drunkard at the Dead Man’s Drink would be the only one to believe him when he told his tale.

#wip wednesday #tanithia writes #miranja #snow white #skyrim #elder scrolls #tesblr #tes

[purplefangirl42]

Who We Were (Part 7)

Series Summary: Silco has returned to take over Vander’s position as leader of the Undercity, only to find himself facing a new challenge. The woman that had once been devoted to him wants nothing to do with him. Can he convince her or have things changed too much in his absence?

Pairings: Post Act 1 Silco/OC (Olillia), Implied past Sevika/OC, Young Silco/OC

Parts: Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Warnings/Tags: Slight angst

A/N: Long time no update for this story, which I hope won't happen again. Thank you to anyone that's still around and reading. There have been a few extra things written for this story so check out the masterlist for those. Big thank you to @silcoitus for beta-reading for me!

Sevika let the door of the bar slam shut behind her, pulling her coat over her broad shoulders as she walked out into the chilly night. She shuddered as a gust of wind blew past her, pulling the front of the coat shut to block it out. An unlit cigarette rested between her lips and she attempted to find her lighter within the pockets of the coat as she began her trek home.

She was more than ready for Spring, wanting this awful cold to go away. She could deal with rain and mud as long as the wind was no longer around. When she finally got the lighter out of her pocket and the end of her cigarette was glowing hot, she ducked her head against the wind, keeping close to the wall of the alley she was walking down.

If she had gone home when she had originally planned, it probably wouldn’t have been as cold, but she had been waiting for Lil to finish her shift at the Last Drop so they could walk together. Just as Sevika was getting ready to leave, Lil had told her that she was going to be staying later and to head home without her. When Sevika had asked her why, the explanation had made her roll her eyes.

One of the kids was sick. Probably the little blue-haired brat that Lil was so attached to. Vander had asked Lil to watch over her while he worked the later shift at the bar. He seemed to always be asking her to do things that were outside her job parameters, at least that was what it felt like to Sevika. If he didn’t have time to take care of the kids, he shouldn’t have taken them in. It wasn’t right to pawn them off on someone else.

Sevika shook her head in annoyance and tried to clear the thoughts from her head. She knew Lil cared about the kids and just wanted to help out, that’s just who she was. It wasn’t something that was going to change anytime soon, no matter how much it annoyed those that wanted to spend time with her.

As she neared her apartment, Sevika felt a prickle on her skin, as if someone was watching her. She paused a block away and looked around, eyes shifting from corner to corner, looking for anything suspicious. A dark shadowy form leaned against the wall of an alley alongside her apartment building, someone lurking just outside the lit area where she’d be able to see them.

“Whoever you are, quit being such a damn creep,” she called out. “If you’ve got something to say to me, come out and say it. Don’t lurk in the shadows and stare at me.”

The figure pushed off from the wall and slowly stalked out of the alley in her direction, their steps deliberate like a predator. A street light on the corner shone a beam of light down onto the sidewalk and the figure stepped into it, revealing a lean man dressed in brown and red. A large scar covered the left side of his face, surrounding a malformed eye that almost seemed to be glowing. Despite his startling change in appearance, Sevika recognized the man beneath the damage.

“Silco?” she said softly. “It can’t be, you’re dead.”

“So I’ve been told,” Silco responded. “Yet, here I stand.”

Sevika blinked rapidly a few times and shook her head in an attempt to clear her vision in case she was seeing things. She had had a few drinks at the bar, but not enough to make her start seeing and hearing dead people.

“I assure you that I am really here,” Silco said. “You aren’t hallucinating.”

Sevika stared at him with her mouth hanging open, the last bit of her cigarette falling to the ground. He really did seem to be standing before her, there was no denying it.

“How? Why?” she asked, not really forming whole questions. “Where the hell have you been all these years?”

“Perhaps we can talk somewhere more private?” Silco suggested. “My survival is not well-known and I prefer to keep it that way for the moment.”

Sevika nodded in the direction of her apartment and he followed her across the street to the front door of the building. When the two of them were securely inside, she turned to face him again, trying to keep the anger building inside her from erupting.

“So you’re alive,” she said. “And you’ve been doing what? Hiding?”

“Not exactly. I’ve been building up my forces and planning for the future. I also had some healing to do,” he said, gesturing to his scarred face. “Attempted drowning in a toxic river has some damaging effects on a person.”

“Attempted?” Sevika said. “From what Vander said, it sounded pretty successful. As far as any of us knew, you were dead. It had some serious effects on some.”

“Is that so?” Silco asked. “How is Olillia? From what I’ve gathered, she still works at the bar as if nothing had ever happened. I also am aware of the fact that the two of you had some kind of situation going on for a while.”

“Have you been spying on me?” Sevika asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “Have you been spying on her? Rather than just coming to her and telling her that you’re still alive?”

“Why would she care? She seems to have moved on.”

Sevika could hear a tinge of anger and betrayal beneath his words, as if he was hurt by the idea of Lil having a life beyond grieving his loss. She could feel her own anger bubbling up again, indignation at the insult he was implying towards her friend.

“If you think she’s moved on completely, that she ever forgot you, then you are more stupid than I took you for,” Sevika sneered at him. “You never seemed to understand how much you meant to her, and I don’t think you ever will.”

Silco seemed surprised by her reaction and she could see his expression falter for a moment before he refocused and returned to his previous image. 

“You care about her a great deal still? Despite your failed attempt at a relationship?” he asked.

“Of course I do,” Sevika spat. “She’s my friend. I care about her much more than you ever did.”

She could see the corner of his mouth twitch and anger flashed in the eye that was undamaged. Silco turned away from her and walked over to the window in her living room, staring out into the night. Sevika could see tension in his shoulders for a moment before they settled back into a more relaxed state.

“Don’t be so sure,” he said quietly. 

Sevika stared blankly at his back for a short time before speaking again.

“What did you come here for, Silco?” she asked. “I highly doubt you came here to talk about Lil.”

“No, I didn’t come here about that. I sense that things are tense in the Underground. The Hound is not running it as efficiently as he should and things are slipping through the cracks.”

Silco turned away from the window to face her again, linking his hands behind his back and stepping towards her. 

“I don’t imagine that is something that you agree with,” he said. “You want things to be different. You don’t like how Vander does things and you want to see some change.”

Sevika narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. She didn’t know how he could know things that she had only thought to herself. He was hitting everything right on the head; she did want change and didn’t think Vander was doing what he should as the de-facto leader of the Undercity.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said. “But what does that have to do with you? You planning on overthrowing him and doing things your way?”

Silco didn’t answer her, the question hanging in the air between them. His silence was all the answer she needed, however. He was planning on doing exactly that. While she didn’t agree with the way Vander did things, Sevika was sure a coup was the way to deal with the problem. She also wasn’t sure Silco was a good replacement. Out of the two of them, she had always liked Vander more and thought he was better at getting others to follow him. She had to admit that Silco had a stronger revolutionary spirit though, and would probably do what was necessary to better the future of Zaun.

“I didn’t come here to recruit you to my side quite yet,” Silco said. “I only wanted to place the idea in your mind that you have an alternate option if you desire it.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Sevika said. “I’m not sure I want to throw my lot in with you and ruin what good I do have in my life.”

“I would like to have you at my side when I bring about the change I see for our future,” Silco said. “You’ve always had that fighting spirit in you that I admired.”

Sevika scoffed at the idea that he admired her in the way she had been just thinking about him. The two of them had never really been close, and there had been some tension between them in the past. Most of which had to do with Lil. She knew that was something that couldn’t continue if they wanted to work together in the future.

“No matter what happens,” she said. “I will never abandon Lil. If you want me, she comes, too.”

A small smile lifted the corner of Silco’s mouth at her words.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

When Sevika had seen Lil walk into the Last Drop, she hadn’t believed her eyes. She watched silently as Ran led her across the bar to take her up to Silco’s office. It had been a while since she had disappeared and Sevika was very curious as to what was going on. Now, she could see Lil descending the stairs, her gaze focused on Sevika.

“I’m surprised you showed up,” Sevika said. “After how you reacted, I didn’t think there was any chance in hell that you’d walk back through those doors.”

Lil crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her.

“At first I wasn’t going to,” she said. “And I have every right to never speak to either of you again if I felt that was the correct thing to do.”

Sevika felt the guilt that had been gnawing away at her for months reforming in her stomach. She had hated hiding the truth from Lil, but Silco had said it was necessary. She honestly wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t speak to her again.

“What made you change your mind?” she asked.

“Powder. I want to make sure she’s safe,” Lil said. “Also, I need money and wasn’t having much luck finding work anywhere else.”

Sevika rolled her eyes at the mention of the kid. Of course, Lil would stick around for the brat like she always had. It was not ideal that Silco was keeping the girl here, but if it meant Lil would stick around, then she could find a way to deal with it. Maybe it would give them a chance to fix things between them.

“Hey, are we gonna be okay?” she asked. “I know you’re pissed at me, and I don’t blame you.”

“You lied to me, Sevika. How am I supposed to trust you when you would hide something like this from me? I’m not surprised about Silco’s behavior, but I am about yours.”

“I know I messed things up, and I’m sorry,” Sevika said. “I promise that you can trust me.”

“I’m going to need some time before that can happen,” Lil said. “But since we’re going to be working together, we can have a truce for now.”

Sevika nodded and glanced down at the floor, not wanting to look at Lil’s hurt expression anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Lil asked. “What’s going to happen with your arm?”

“It has to finish healing and then I’m going to get a mechanical replacement,” Sevika said. “Silco felt it was the least he could do since I lost it protecting him. Supposedly, it’s going to be some high-tech thing that will be better than I could hope to get on my own.”

“Well, I hope you aren’t in too much pain,” Lil said before stepping forward and resting a hand on Sevika’s good shoulder. “No matter how hurt I am, I still care about you.”

Sevika looked up and met Lil’s gaze, seeing the love displayed there. It seemed that she still had some hope for a chance to repair things in the future, and she would take whatever chance she got to fix her mistakes.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Lil said, removing her hand from Sevika’s shoulder. “See you later.”

As she walked away, Sevika thought she should say something and take the first step to help her friend. She called out to Lil, causing her to stop and turn back to face her.

“Please be careful,” she said.

Judging by Lil’s expression, she knew she didn’t need to elaborate. Lil gave her a small smile in return before leaving the bar. As she watched her leave, Sevika felt a pit begin to form in her stomach. She hoped that she hadn’t led her friend into danger by her actions. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to live with herself if she had.

The days following his conversation with Olillia had been interesting for Silco. Though he spent most of his time in his office, he still saw her from time to time when he did leave the room. As there wasn’t much for her to do until the construction was complete, she spent a lot of her time with Powder on the premises. Silco wasn’t sure what they did during their time together, but he was glad that someone was keeping the child occupied.

When he had decided to take the girl in, he hadn’t really thought through what he was going to do with her. He had no experience in caring for children and he certainly didn’t have time to do so with trying to get his operation off the ground and solidify his leadership of the Undercity. Still, he made sure to check in on her from time to time to reassure her that he was still around if she really needed him. He didn’t want her to feel abandoned, not when she was so vulnerable.

There had been a few nights where he had been woken by her screams from down the hall, no doubt caused by nightmares of the night they met. Part of him wished that Olillia was here full-time to help in those situations, but as it was, he had to deal with them himself. Powder was slowly beginning to trust him and allow him to offer her comfort for her nightmares, which was a step in the right direction in his eyes. He wanted her to feel safe, and for that, she needed to trust him.

Olillia had told him that Powder had a few things to work through that she would need to do on her own, things that neither of them could help her with. Silco wasn’t sure what those things could be, but he trusted that she knew best since she had known the child for much longer. She had assured him that Powder would come to him when the time was right.

When he heard the knock on his door one day and the child entered his office with Olillia in tow, Silco wondered if that time had come. The two of them approached his desk together, Olillia guiding the girl with her hand, an encouraging touch on her back. Silco set his pen down and focused all of his attention on the pair before him, patiently waiting for whatever they had to say.

With an encouraging gesture from Olillia, Powder stepped forward and placed something on his desk before stepping away again. Silco glanced down at the object and saw that it was the ashtray that had gone missing from his office a number of days ago. He had wondered what happened to it, but it had never crossed his mind to ask the girl about it. The formerly plain, gray tray was now covered in brightly colored doodles.

“I wanted to make it look nicer for you,” Powder said. “So you could have something nice, instead of just boring old gray.”

Silco picked up the ashtray and turned it in his hands, taking in every colorful swirl and pattern that she had added. He had never received something so personal and despite the child-like nature of the gift, he appreciated it.

“Thank you, Powder,” he said, placing it back down. “I will make sure it is put to good use.”

A shy smile appeared on the girl’s face and she looked up to Olillia, who nodded at her in response. When she looked back at Silco, she was biting her lip nervously.

“Was there something else?” he asked, prompting her to open up to him.

“Lil said that since things were changing, it would be a good time to think about who I want to be,” she said quietly.

Silco glanced up to Olillia and their gazes met briefly before she nodded back down to the child, instructing him to pay attention to what she had to say.

“I don’t think I want to be Powder anymore,” the girl said. “I want to be called something else.”

Silco sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap, focusing on the child before him. She seemed to have given this subject some thought, no doubt at Olillia’s suggestion. He thought back to their previous discussion about this and was glad that she had taken the initiative to bring it up to the girl so he wouldn’t have to.

“Do you have an idea for what you want to be called?” he asked.

The girl bit her lip again and reached up to pull on her braid anxiously. Olillia bent down to get closer to her and despite the fact that he couldn’t hear her, Silco figured she was offering the girl more words of encouragement. 

“I like…Jinx.”

“Jinx?”

The girl looked up and met his gaze, giving him a slight nod. She seemed sure of her choice, no matter how strange it may be. When Silco’s gaze shifted slightly to Olillia again, he could see a tinge of worry in her expression. It didn’t seem like she much approved of the name choice, but was respecting the girl’s decision when it came to her own identity. It only seemed right that he do the same.

“Jinx it is then.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this part! Please reblog, like, and comment! I would really like to hear your thoughts! If you would like to be added to the taglist, go here.

Tags: @findinghiddentruths, @photogirl894, @ariaud, @sherwood-forests, @insult-2-injury, @eurydicethesage, @mazikomo, @pinkrose1422, @crunchlite, @edlix

#arcane #arcane league of legends #silco #lol silco #silco arcane #silco x oc #young silco x oc #young silco #original characters #OC: Olillia

[gardenofnoah]

like real people do

for @medusashima's rise of the dead collab. i blacked out and wrote this in like 4 hours because something about a fucked up prompt speaks to the grimy little freak that scratches around in my skull

wc: 1.8k ish. tags: MDNI, dark content, zombie!au, death. angst no comfort (unless you think cannibalism is comforting, i don't know your life), blood, graphic depiction of infection/injury, gn reader. read at your own risk thx love u

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a virus of unknown origin. researchers hypothesize that it was a spillover transmission event—the wrong rat stumbled across the wrong person at just the right time. some new, distant cousin of the rabies virus, with unexpected symptoms—most notably, the consumption of uninfected people by the infected. some suspected this was due to the genetic make up of the virus itself—it seemed to be fine tuned for longevity, and targeted specific motor functions controlled by the certain portions of the brain. this, combined with the rare psychosis symptom reported to be associated with rabies, may cause an uncontrollable compulsion to spread the infection, or, as others postulated, could convince the brain that uninfected bodies were a remedy for its suffering. 

at least that was the hypothesis, when the researchers were alive to articulate it. 

with the authoritative voice of science effectively silenced, there was more than enough room for conspiracy theories and hysteria to wiggle in and take hold. it was around that time that the media began to circulate the "zombie" rhetoric, and with no scientific name or official explanation (or government sanctioned placation) in place, an official zombie outbreak took shape. the violence that followed was as deadly as the outbreak itself, and served as another painfully efficient route of transmission. whoever lived through the war in the street died of the virus shortly thereafter. there'd been doomsday folks to warn of the end of times for as long as there'd been a time to be alive in. it was strange, then, when they'd fallen silent too. 

you and kento had joined in with a ragtag group of strangers early on—with strength in numbers, you successfully isolated yourself in an old, abandoned cabin in the woods a few miles south of town. you got lucky enough to have a few in your group that some construction experience—before you knew it, you had a fairly well reinforced fortress, where you could continue your game of chicken with death. from there, you could ignore the fact that fewer and fewer of your newfound troop came back with each expedition for food and supplies. 

there were books to read there, and if you let yourself, you could even find some joy in cooking meals with whatever kento could find in the pantry. he'd wake you up between moth-bitten sheets with breathless kisses, the two of you just grateful to have the opportunity of another day together. when he dragged you out of bed and twirled you around the creaky floorboards, you could pretend the apocalypse outside of your fenced in oasis was little more than a scary story. sprawled across his chest in the afterglow of some indulgence far removed from your reality, you could ignore the way death lingered on the outskirts of your camp. 

you could ignore it, until it was your turn to fetch the necessities. 

it was fine until it wasn't, as most things tended to be. you'd located a gas station that your group had missed on previous trips—a little farther out, but with how remote it was, it wasn't likely that it had been completely ransacked. if nothing else, you could figure out how to siphon any gas left in the tanks, and hope it was enough to get the old work truck left in front of your fortress running again. if you were mobile, your chances of survival would raise exponentially.

you'd tried to jimmy the door open with your shoulder as quietly as possible, but time and neglect had caused the wood frame to swell and distort around the metal. you grit your teeth when kento put a boot to the door. splinters of wood and glass shards flew as the scrape of metal rattled your bones. for a sickening moment, all was silent. and then you heard the screeching, and the dragging of rotting limbs against asphalt. 

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"fuck, fuck," you grit through your teeth, arms looped under his armpits as you drag him behind the checkout counter and into the first open door with the latch still intact. a storage closet, apparently.

you set him down for a moment, and it's—really, really not good. there's a deep laceration in his slide from a particularly nasty piece of glass. it's nearly eviscerated him.

you don't have the opportunity to fully process what that might mean—all at once, it feels like someone has lit your hand on fire. when you look down, you see a perfect outline of human teeth across the back of your hand. 

you reel back from kento. "oh fuck."

you have no idea what to do, looking around wildly as if the storage closet holds the answers to this god forsaken outbreak. and it might, you realize, when you spot an extension cord, coiled up on one of the shelves.

before you can even make sense of your own actions, you're tying one end of the cord to an exposed pipe sticking out of the brick wall, and the other around your neck. like this, your range of motion is just limited enough to keep you away from the door, and away from kento. 

but in your haste, you haven't packed his wound. he's going to bleed out at your feet. if you untie yourself, you're probably going to eat him. he's dead either way.

as if he senses your realization, he meets your eyes for the first time.

"where?" he rasps.

it's a moment before you can find your voice. "my hand."

he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. "i'm so sorry, my love."

"why are you sorry?"

"it's my fault," he's too quiet, and far too uncertain to match the kento that's carried you through the last year of this outbreak, "i drew them to us."

you shake your head, but you're silent. wanting so badly to find the right words, and having a hard time getting your brain to catch up to the current moment. he was upright and steadfast, and now he's staining the tile beneath him. all in the matter of a few seconds.

"you need to untie yourself, love."

"no." you say firmly, barely giving it a second thought.

“you’re just going to watch me rot until you starve to death?” he laughs harshly, choking on it—sputtering a little. he takes a deep breath and he, despite you mentally willing him to stop, continues. 

“no,” he rasps, letting his eyes close, “don’t do that. you can have me—it’s okay.” 

“stop,” it leaves you with a groan, squeezing your own eyes shut and shaking your head, as if you could dislodge his words, “stop—” 

“this won’t end with you and i,” you hear him reach for you, limp arm dragging across the floor. he falls short—you can't bring yourself to meet him halfway, even if you had the range of motion to do it. “you know that, don’t you? locking yourself in here won’t change that.” 

and he just keeps talking, keeps prying open the wound you can’t see. "i just want you to make it out, my love. in case they can find a cure."

you can’t answer him. you want to laugh in his face, you want to scream at him and shake him. but you can't do anything—can't even tell him that you don't want to make it out without him, because when you look down at your hand again, you find that the tissue surrounding the bite has turned necrotic far too quickly—as if you were watching yourself rot, sped up or on loop. you know what comes next. 

you know you’re out of time.

the burn radiates up to your neck. your vision blurs a bit with the pain, and then with hot tears as it hits you—these are the final moments of your life. you wonder what you ever did to deserve to watch the love of your life bleed out in front of you. what could have been so bad, to then be forced to desecrate his corpse.  

“ken,” you choke, curling in on yourself, chin dropping to your chest. it’s an animal attempt at self-soothing—like a house cat that knows the end is here, you feel the instinct to isolate—to protect the others around you—even now. you are reduced to only primal senses: fear, grief, love. the need to survive. to ensure the survival of those you love, even in the final moments.

he’s fading just as quickly, but he’s stubborn. 

“c’mere my love,” he slurs, blinking slow, “it’s alright.” 

against all of your fleeting senses, you find yourself unraveling the cord from around your neck. if you looked down, you’d see that your arm is now blackened to the elbow. 

some part of you already knows, though, so you don’t bother. 

you’re focused on his face, through your tears—the blue eyes that hold yours despite the puddle of blood that you now crawl through. the smell is nauseating, but so is everything else about this—you feel it soak through your tattered jeans as you pull yourself toward him on your three remaining limbs. 

you stop when you’re over top of him, breathing heavy and dripping tears and drool onto his face. he doesn’t mind, and you’re not sure he can even feel it anymore with the way he’s looking at you like nothing about this is abnormal. 

“ken,” whispered, because one last secret between you is a luxury you feel entitled to, “i’m afraid.” 

“i know, my love,” there’s a soft smile on his face that wraps around your heart like barbed wire, “one more kiss? before we meet again.” 

“are you fucking crazy—” 

“please,” he croaks, and you see the fear mirrored on his face for the first time, “please. just one.”

you shake your head stubbornly and yet you reach for him, hands on both sides of his face. you ignore the way you see every one of your veins in your periphery, bold and darkened with decay, pulsing and searing as they trail up your shoulder. with the way you feel it creep up the side of your face, you imagine you have only a minute at most before the virus reaches your brain. 

“i love you,” he breathes against your lips, and you can taste it on your tongue—his love and his leaving, all in three words. if you were a better person, you’d let him go peacefully. 

you think you can feel it, then, when it hits your brain stem. latching on to every nerve, every synapse—choking the life—the willpower— out of you, one cell at a time. 

“please,” he rasps, and you don’t know if he’s begging for you to let him go, or if he's pleading with someone else, now. 

you don’t let yourself deliberate. you drag your lips down his jaw, vision spotty. you hover over the faint pulse of his jugular, hyper aware of how hard his body is fighting to keep him alive right now. feeling the fluttering of arteries, fighting to find something to circulate through themselves.

for a reason you hope you won’t have to justify if there is an afterlife, you open your mouth—whisper one last apologetic declaration of love against his skin—and you bite down. 

you bite until teeth touch teeth again. sinew shreds underneath, and you let it flood your mouth. you hear it when it starts—the death rattle, deep in his chest—and rip yourself away with a piece of him and squelch that should make your stomach turn, but doesn’t. 

he loved me, you think, forcing yourself to swallow. feeling him slide down your throat in some sort of sick last rite—an act of closure that suddenly feels fitting as he struggles to suck down one last breath. he loved me.

♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝

this fic belongs to me (@gardenofnoah). i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.

#911? i've killed my husband please help #the way that i kicked my feet writing this #i want to write more of this #rip my mans though #nanamin #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fic #nanami kento dark fic #collab: rise of the dead #fic: like real people do

[alieinthemorning]

Sheer Cold Liar [Albedo | Kaeya Alberich] [Continuation]

Content: Shadows Amidst Snowstorms Event Spoilers, Fluff, Angst, Kaeya Being A Lil Shit, Albedo Is So Done, Klee Is The Bestest Girl, POV Second Person

Pronouns: She/Her

Previous: Sheer Cold Cryo

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Instead of heading to one of the taverns, Albedo insisted that he make a meal for you.

“Kaeya should be the one cooking.” You nudged the man.

“I could—”

“There’s no need.” Albedo cut him off, “Besides, there’s actually something I need the two of you to do for me.”

Kaeya pursed his lips. “Let me guess—”

“Big brother Albedo!” A small burst of red crashed into his stomach.

“Hello, Klee.” His lips broke into a fond smile that stretched across his face.

Now you knew what that something was.

“Oh dear— My apologies, Albedo.” Mona, Mondstadt’s local astrologist, quickly approached your group. “I tried my best but—”

“It’s fine.” He assured her. “I’m sure Klee was a good girl while I was gone.”

“The bestest girl!” She nodded vigorously, then gasped. “Big brother Keaya and—!” She paused, “I don’t know who her…”

You crouched down to her level, and introduced yourself.

She gasped, eyes sparking. “You’re the person that they really, really like!”

You didn’t need to look at the boys to know they were embarrassed at the girl’s outburst, but who were you to deny the words of the bestest girl?

Especially when she was right.

“Yep! That’s me!” You giggled, watching as the girl jumped in excitement.

“Can she come over for dinner, big brother please, please, please?” She gave him the biggest puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

He chuckled, “Yes, yes, Klee.”

Albedo’s quarters within the Knight’s Headquarters were bigger than Kaeya’s and definitely bigger than the dorms. While Albedo worked in the kitchen, you, Kaeya and Mona kept Klee occupied. Which was a lot tougher than expected, but even though this was the first time meeting her, you knew she had you wrapped around her gunpowder stained fingers.

You could only pray to Barbatos that when the two of you inevitably get in trouble, you’re not found by Jean.

Dinner went by without a hitch, and with the help of Mona’s sparkly scryglass, Klee was easily put down for the night.

“This was one of the most eventful nights I’ve had in a while.” Mona commented as she made her way to the door. “I believe it has to do with her,” she nodded at you. “We’ll have to set a day aside to chat more by ourselves.”

You smirked. “Of course, maybe next week?”

She mirrored you. “It’s a date.”

Kaeya cleared his throat.

You rolled your eyes. “A get-together between friends. Is that better?”

“Much.”

And with that, you bid a giggling Mona a good night. Locking the door, you spun on your heel with a wide grin.

“So the two of you really, really like me?”

“What isn’t there to like?” Kaeya shrugged.

“Ah, you’re just being sweet.” You brought his face down to yours, kissing his eye patch.

“You know he’s right.” Albedo chimed from the kitchen.

Moving from one captain to the next, you fitted yourself against his back.

“And you’re being sweeter. My sweet boys.” You pecked the star on his neck.

That was the last time you’d seen Albedo.

Your Albedo

Whoever was standing in front of you now wasn’t him, but they didn’t need to know that.

“I’ll visit you soon.”

They shook their head. “There’s no need. I’ll be fine on my own.”

You wanted to frown, to call them out, ask them for your Albedo, but you held your tongue and schooled your face.

Smiling, you nodded. “Okay. Bye.”

They only gave you a curt nod before turning on their heel and walking away out of the Knight’s Headquarters.

“That’s not our prince.” You finally let the smile drop from your lips as Kaeya rounded the corner. “His crown is missing.”

“How peculiar,” he hummed, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Shall we do a bit of investigating ourselves, then?”

You brought his hand to your lips. “What sort of knights would we be if we didn’t protect our prince?”

“Inefficient ones.” He chuckled.

Somewhere within the Dawn Winery, Diluc sneezed.

Ko-Fi | Commission| Masterlist

#alie ficlets #alie ficlets: version 2.0 #alie continuaitons #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #kaeya x albedo x reader #mona megistus #klee #diluc ragnvindr #female reader

[barleyo]

do you take requests if so for the love of god do more boomhauer please it was so damn hot <3 love your work btw

Straight Tequila Night.

Jeff Boomhauer X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, and yes, requests are always open! Sorry for the excruciatingly long wait, sweetheart. I'm pretty worthless when it comes to getting requests done in a timely manner, sorry!! This is heavily based off of John Anderson's Straight Tequila Night, so I suggest listening to it while you read. Whoever can find the most references to the song in the fic wins, haha!

Wordcount: 3.4K

Tags: P*rn with plot, p in v, oral (f receiving), sex with a semi-stranger, smut in the later half of the story

He jetted down the highway, looking for any sign or signal that pointed toward a bar. He never liked traveling outside of Arlen for anything, but when his friends were done drinking for the night and his regular pub was closed, he didn’t mind driving a few miles out of town to get a drink and mingle. 

Though Boomhauer was going farther than he originally thought he would need to, he refused to turn around and give up. Instead, he kept on driving down the sparingly lit road. The road there was bumpy, he noticed. Old and cracked pavement, unlike Arlen’s smooth, blacktop roads. He was only twenty or so minutes out of town and he could tell the differences between the two places by how often his car would jump on a jagged crack or pothole too deep to be safe.

Finally, he pulled into the parking lot of a tiny place that did not register as a bar in his mind until a neon sign that read “happy hour, every hour” came into view. The lot was empty besides a car or two in the employee’s spots and a few beat up sedans that were scattered. Boomhauer parked in a spot nearest the door and got out, grabbed his jacket he left in the passenger seat, and shrugged it on. Hands in his coat pockets, he walked in.

For however few cars were in the lot, it looked like even fewer people were even in the place. He surveyed the empty tables and thought to turn right back around to keep looking when a voice called out to him.

“Welcome in,” a woman said. 

His head snapped over to the source, finding her behind the bar. He had not noticed her while he was making his earlier assessment of the place. He offered a quick smile in an attempt to combat his previous indirect rudeness and sat at her bar top. Boomhauer took note of the woman’s age: a bit too old to just be working at a place like this, she was likely the owner.

“Never seen you before, you new here?” She leaned over the countertop inquisitively, leaving enough room between the two of them for comfort. “Or just passing through town?” 

“Just passing through, ma’am,” he said.

“Ma’am? Gosh, polite, aren’t you? You can call me Mary, none of all that ‘ma’am’ stuff. Your name, if you don’t mind me askin’?” 

“Jeff Boomhauer. Friends call me Boomhauer.”

“Alright then, Boomhauer, what’re you havin’ here on this fantastic night?” What Mary lacked in numbers, she made up for in energy and entertainment for the guests she did have. The emptiness of the bar did not seem to bother her.

“Alamo, if you’ve got it.”

“Alamo? Oh, honey, you’re from Arlen aren’t you?” she asked, biting back a laugh when he nodded. “Y’all really love your Alamo, huh? Nobody here drinks it. Thought about replacing it on tap to save my money, glad you’re here to drink it.” Mary bent down, disappearing under the bar to grab the beer mug. “Sixteen ounces okay?” She pulled the tap and filled the cup.

“Mhm, that’s fine by me,” he grabbed the mug and took a swig from it, and looked to his side. He saw a wine glass sitting next to him on a napkin. Before he could ask about it, someone walked over.

“Someone else here, Mary?” 

“Yup, (Y/N),” Mary was already turned to the girl’s direction, hearing the click of her heels before hearing her voice, “Out-of-towner from Arlen.”

(Y/N) took her seat next to Boomhauer and faced him. “It’s ‘bout time we see someone who isn’t a regular,” she laughed, holding her hand out. “Nice to meet you.” 

Shaking her hand, he replied, “You too, Miss (Y/N).”

“Oh, so polite,” she said. “Didn’t know I was a ‘Miss’ kind of girl!”

“That’s what I was saying too! Jeff Boomhauer, are all Arlen men like this? Because if so, I might need to get me one,” Mary joked while she wiped down the other end of the bar, scrubbing at a stubborn stain. 

Boomhauer said nothing in return and instead sipped at his mug quietly, listening in on Mary and (Y/N)’s chat. He allowed himself to peer at her from the corner of his eyes every so often. She was an exceptionally pretty thing: big smile, cute voice, and even cuter laugh. He was normally a talkative man, but feeling so enthralled and out of place made him want to listen especially closely to the two women.

“So, uh,” he cleared his throat, “you come here often?” He internally cringed at his own cliche, but (Y/N) seemed not to mind. 

“I’m Mary’s favorite regular, if that gives you any clue.” She looked at him, a sweet smile covering her face. 

“Don’t let her fool you, she’s still a pain in my rear,” Mary interrupted absentmindedly. 

“See, that’s real love right there,” (Y/N) grabbed Boomhauer’s arm as she chuckled to herself, and let go once she was done. “Hey, do me a favor, would you?”

“Yeah?”

“Take these,” she dug in her purse and pulled out a small handful of quarters. “Put on, uh, K-13 on that ol’ jukebox in that corner.”

“You got it,” he said. He stood up and stepped over to the jukebox, inserting the coins. He hovered his fingers over the number keys of the jukebox’s keyboard and punched in the numbers that she told him to. “I didn’t even know these things were still used,” he said. “Ain’t seen one since I was a kid.”

“I know, right? Used to be my favorite thing: headin’ to a diner with my daddy, popping on whatever song I could with the nickels and dimes he found for me in his car’s cup holders.” 

Boomhauer sat back down and watched (Y/N)’s face contort into a fond smile as she went over her memories.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He did not try to stop his own smile from forming at her words.

“Well,” she started, “you in town for long?” 

“Nah, just tonight. Came here when my dang ol’ favorite place was right n’ closed up. Just trying somethin’ new.”

“Ah, well, cheers to that then!” She held her glass up and clinked it against his. She drank from it again, finishing out the rest of her white wine. “You know, we almost never get people just blowing by here,” she traced the rim of the glass, “the place is just too boring for people, I guess. Empty town and all that.”

“I like it.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t mind it here, man. Nice n’ quiet, wouldn’t say it’s better’n Arlen, but I don’t mind it here,” Boomhauer said, watching (Y/N)’s face warm up from the alcohol, assuming the same was happening to his own face. 

“Oh, Boomhauer, don’t say that or else I’ll have to convince you to move here! We could use some more cuties like you here, it’d make it worth hanging around this town.” 

“Maybe someday, Miss (Y/N), maybe someday,” he chuckled at her dramatics, but on the inside he felt a sharp spark. She was joking, of course, but the hint of truth behind it was all Boomhauer could hear. He couldn’t possibly move to a new town for a woman he’d known for only the lesser half of an hour, but God, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel tempting every time he heard her laugh. 

She smirked at him and ushered him to stand up and follow her. She tossed a few bills onto the countertop on both her side and Boomhauer’s, pushing his hand down as he reached into his pocket to pay. “Lightin’ up and headin’ out, Mary,” she called from behind her shoulder. 

“Long as you don’t do it in here, hon,” Mary called back. “See you.” She had taken to looking through a magazine while the ‘couple’ were chatting with each other and was still engrossed with what she was reading.

(Y/N) grabbed Boomhauer’s hand and pulled him out the door, letting go of his hand and sitting on the curb just outside the bar. She patted the spot beside her. He sat down with her and watched her take a box of cigarettes out of her purse. 

“You smoke?” she asked.

“Mhm, yeah.” He did not smoke. He may have lit a cig once or twice in high school, but never as an adult, and why he told her he did, he did not know. 

“Shit,” (Y/N) groaned, pulling her final cigarette out of its lonely box. “One left.” She lit it and took a drag, exhaling a dark cloud and tapping the ash off of the end. “Hm,” she grunted as she held the stick out to Boomhauer. 

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise but took it anyway. He saw the red ring of (Y/N)’s lipstick around the filter of the cigarette and smiled, taking a puff of his own. An unfamiliar heaviness grew in his lungs and he fought back a cough, handing it back to her.

“You know,” she took another drag before continuing, “I’m glad you came on in tonight. It’s always just me n’ a few random regulars. Every damn night, never a newbie or anyone interestin’.” She sighed and leaned her head onto Boomhauer’s shoulder. 

He tensed up a first, but calmed down once he felt her start to hum gently. 

“There’s something about this town I love,” she puffed from the cig and coughed. “The community, the familiar faces. Everyone knows each other, and there’s charm to that.”

Boomhauer nodded, the smoke swirling around him as (Y/N)  exhaled. “Yeah, it’s true. Arlen’s like that too, bit bigger though. Everybody knows everybody. Can’t go any-dang-where without bumpin’ into someone you know.”

“Right,” she replied, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips. “But sometimes, it’s nice to step outta your bubble, really get out there.”

He thought for a moment, contemplating her words. It had been a long time since he ventured outside of his comfort zone, outside of his town. Sitting there with (Y/N) on that quiet curb, he couldn’t help but feel a strange comfort. Maybe there was more to life than the familiar routine he had grown accustomed to.

“You might be onto somethin’ there,” he finally said. “Life’s too short to stay in one place, a man’s gotta be free, man. Maybe it’s time I start takin’ some risks, tryin’ new things.”

(Y/N) grinned, a playful glint in her eyes. “I like the sound of that, Boomhauer. A man with a sense of adventure is very sexy.”

They kept speaking to each other, inching closer throughout the night.The initial awkwardness between them melted away, replaced by a growing connection and a shared sense of curiosity.

Eventually, the cigarette burned out.

“Can’t believe how fast time flew by,” Boomhauer said, a tinge of regret in his voice. “I gotta get goin’.”

“Don’t know if I’m being forward, but am I gonna see you around these parts again, Mr. Boomhauer?” she asked with a laugh, copying his formality from the beginning of the night. 

He caught on. “Well, Miss (Y/N), depends on if you’re good and sure you wanna see me again.” 

“Hm, I think I’d like to. Could get used to sitting by a handsome not-stranger like yourself every Friday night. Mary likes ya’ too.” She angled her head up to make eye contact with him. “I like you more, though.” She leaned in and pressed her red-stained lips against his chapped ones.

He placed his hand on her face and tilted her into the kiss, savoring the feeling. Stroking her cheek with his thumb, he ran his tongue over her bottom lip, slowly pushing into her mouth. She moaned as he explored her mouth, intertwining his tongue with hers briefly before breaking away.

They both panted as they caught their breath, still holding eye contact. 

“I should get going,” (Y/N) sighed, standing up.

“Right, uh, yeah, man, me too.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched her turn to walk away. “You need me to walk you to your car?”

“No, hon, I’m okay. Just–” she looked back at him, “just make sure to come here again real soon, yeah? Don’t be a stranger, Boomhauer.” She walked to her car, heels clicking. She got into the car and drove off, rolling down her window to flash a final smile at him. 

Boomhauer had gone back to that small, desolate bar every week on Fridays for a long time. He did not see (Y/N) there for a while. He was upset, thinking that she had forgotten about their little promise so quickly, but he still showed up. Every Friday, sometimes Saturdays. He had soon started to devote less and less of his time to visiting Mary’s pub in search of her.

Today, he decided, would be one of his final trips. He was still hopeful, of course, but he was not completely delusional and knew when enough was enough. 

He walked in, head down. Not looking up, he sat down at his regular seat, right by the middle of the bar top.

“Hey, Mary,” he groaned, finally looking up. 

“Hey, not-stranger.” (Y/N) smiled at him while picking up her glass.

Boomhauer looked up, seeing her face again. He felt relief, anger, and happiness all at the same time. “(Y/N)? (Y/N), where have you been? I– I’ve been comin’ here wantin’ to see you every week.”

“I know, I know, Mary’s grilled me about it plenty, and I’m sorry.” She plopped down next to him in the chair, facing him with a grimace on her face. “I don’t even know what happened. I was getting dressed to come see you on that Friday and I just couldn’t leave, same with all the others.” She grabbed her shot glass. It was filled to the brim with tequila, and it probably was not the first or only one she had that night.

“What do you mean?”

“Damn it, I don’t know, Jeff,” she sighed and shot the drink back, wincing at the burning feeling it left in her throat. “You’re just so nice, you were so sweet, and you listened to me when I was talking the whole time. You let me joke and be silly and made me feel like you felt like I did, even if it was a lil’ soon.”

“I do feel the same, (Y/N), I feel it too, but if you felt this way, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Wasn’t that simple, I felt so scared and I couldn’t take the chance of you not feeling the same. You say you do, but even telling you now makes me so nervous,” she covered her face with her hands, and her voice was a bit muffled as she ranted. Her hands felt clammy with her sweat and tears. 

Boomhauer gently wedged his hand between her face and her palm, tilting her head to angle her eyes at his. “Darlin’, c’mon now, don’t cry. I get it, you don’t have to explain anymore.” He got up and tapped her arm. “You’re too drunk to drive, let me take you home, yeah?”

(Y/N) nodded, thick tears still dripping down her cheeks. 

They both exited the bar, (Y/N) clinging onto Boomhauer’s arm, snuggling into it against the cool night air. They got in Boomhauer’s car and (Y/N) typed her address into his phone’s GPS system.

They drove in near silence, the only sound being a sniffle of huff from (Y/N)’s side of the car. He soon pulled into her driveway. Getting out, he walked to her side and opened her door, lifting her to her weak, tired legs and walked her to the door. 

“I guess I’ll see you whenever I can see you–?”

He was interrupted by (Y/N) pulling him into a kiss. It was not like their first one, this one was rushed and full of need and desire. She pulled him back into the house, still locked in the kiss, and slammed her door shut. She led him to the bedroom and fell back on her bed.

“This okay?” He asked, laying on top of her.

“Mhm, yes. Please, g’head n’ touch me.”

That was all he needed to hear. He pushed her head to the side and placed his lips on her neck. He sucked the soft skin until a tender, dark bruise formed on it. Moving his head up, he littered the hickies closer to her jaw. 

Pulling away with a pop, he examined the marks. They were shiny with his spit.

“They don’t hurt, do they?” He traced over the wet marks with his thumb, pressing onto them gently. 

(Y/N) craned her neck into his touch, pushing into it further. “It does, but I like it. Don’t need’a worry ‘bout me.”

“Hm.”

Boomhauer ducked his head down and created a trail of kisses, each dipping lower than the last until his lips were situated at her chest, just at the divot of her shirt. He quickly slid his finger through the buttons of her shirt, unbuttoning them and helping her shrug the shirt off. 

Goosebumps littered her skin when the cold air hit her body, soon being soothed by the warm kisses he placed over her abdomen. She gasped at the feeling. Boomhauer made his way lower, slipping her skirt and panties down. 

“Here,” he gripped onto her thighs and held them apart, “hold still for me.” 

He placed his head fully between her legs, licking thick stripes over her cunt. From her entrance to her clit, he traced a path, licking up her wetness and replacing it with his spit. 

“God, ‘s too much,” she whined.

“Ain’t even started yet, just wait,” Boomhauer said, voice muffled while he slurped and sucked on her sensitive, swollen bud. 

Licking at her slit, he pushed into her, dipping his tongue in-and-out. He rolled his tongue deeper, nose bumping against her clit. Little shocks of pleasure coursed through (Y/N), back arching with each pass over her clit.

Running her hands through his blond hair, she took purchase over the back of his head, grinding her pussy up into his mouth. 

“Ah– almost, almost there, keep–”

He pulled off, a wide grin plastered over his slick, reddened face. He wiped his face with his forearm.

“Turn over, baby,” Boomhauer grabbed her waist and flipped her over, face pushed into the mattress. “You ready?” He lined himself up at her entrance, slowly edging the tip in.

“Mhmph.”

His thrusts were slow and agonizing, but not teasing. He wanted this just as bad as she did, no: worse. He felt the velvet ribbing of her cunt suck him in with each thrust, drawing him in and constricting around his cock. 

“Tight lil’ thing,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Can’t keep squeezin’ like that, darlin’, makin’ me wanna cum early.”

“Oh, sorry,” she whined slightly, arching her hips further up as if he were trying to guide his cock to her deep spot. “There,” her mouth fell open with a cry, “ooh, right there, right there!”

“Yeah? Yeah, I-I got you..” 

Boomhauer tried to keep his hips directly flushed to her back, holding the position she put herself in under him. He turned his full, fast strokes into a rough and meaningful rutting, like he was trying to bury his dick into her G-spot.

“Fuck, fuck.” She panted deeply, pathetically, knowing she was close. A final stroke threw her over the edge into her ecstasy, from a final, sweet knock onto her cervix’s tip. 

He saw her shimmery nails grip the sheets tightly, watching as her knuckles practically turned white. “Aw, sweet– shit, sweetheart,” he cooed into her ear, fumbling over his words a bit. 

He got lost in his own pleasure, hardly being able to pull out. He managed to in time, however, and fisted his cock. After giving the base a few quick strokes, he groaned seeing his cum spurt out on her bare lower back.

(Y/N) hummed and looked back at him, sleepiness hanging over her eyes. 

“Boom,” she said after she heard his breathing steady, “will y’stay with me tonight? Please?”

“I’ll stay longer’n that, girl.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, looking over to him as he took a spot underneath the covers with her.

“Didn’t you notice the suitcases in the backseat of m’car?

#barleyxnighteye #smutfic #fanfiction #smutty smut smut #smut #king of the hill #king of the hill x reader #x reader #x fem reader #jeff boomhauer #boomhauer x reader #boomhauer #adult swim #niche fandom

[ksmasterlist]

Soulmates: Part 1

Summary:

When Bradley Bradshaw finds himself single and transferring from the base in Virginia to the base in San Diego California he expects it to be a pretty boring trip, and given he’s chosen to fly as if he were a civilian he plans to drink his way through the whole thing so maybe just maybe he can fast track fixing his broken heart. But what he doesn’t expect is to meet the girl of his dreams.

Addilyn finds herself in a much better place than she’d been the year previous. And despite her promise to herself that she wasn’t going to jump into a new relationship or move too fast as she’d had the tendency to do, decides to turn on the charm with the cute yet sad man at the airport bar.

With both feeling a comfort they hadn’t experienced with anyone else before things could get interesting.

Notes:

Hello all, so this is my first Top Gun fic so I hope whoever's reading this enjoys! Would love to hear your thoughts! This work of fiction is fairly indulgent. 

I of course do not own any of the Top Gun characters or obvious things that are in Top Gun. It is also not totally accurate in regards to how the Navy works. Any and all original characters however were thought up by myself and I do not give permission for them or my work to be published or copied to any other source.

Warnings featured throughout the story: 18+ minors DNI. Smut. Fluff, angst, all around cuteness, lots of flirting/pining. Age difference Addilyn (Phoenix’s younger sister) is in her mid-20s and Bradley is in his 30s. Pregnancy, Emotional triggers, such as infertility. Language.

If you would like to join the tag list just let me know :)

Rooster felt like the biggest idiot to walk to face the earth as he sat in the airport's bar thumbing over the little velvet box in his hand. All he could do was replay the whole thing in his head, and all the signs were there, but he’d ignored them for so long that he’d become complacent. Not out of love but out of an irrational fear that this was the best a relationship would ever be for him, and that he wasn’t getting any younger, it wasn’t like he would live forever, and if he didn’t do something soon, then he’d never even have the chance to start the family that he knew he wanted. 

“You okay there lover boy?” A soft voice spoke, pulling him from his thoughts of self pity. “It’s a pretty ring. Hope whoever the lucky girl is, she says yes.” 

He smiled politely at the girl, “thank you. It was my mom’s. And um I didn’t pop the question, so there’s no one to say yes. And I’m not entirely sure I would consider myself lucky if I had asked, and she said yes.” 

“Well, whoever picked out your mom’s ring had good taste. And I’m sorry for your loss.” She told him absentmindedly playing with the ring on her necklace, her smile faltering so slightly that most people wouldn’t even notice her demeanor had changed at all. 

“It’s quite okay. Cassie wasn’t the girl for me anyway, otherwise I probably would’ve asked and she probably would’ve said yes.” 

“I meant sorry about the loss of your mom. It’s tough losing a parent. How long has it been? If you don’t mind me asking. Do not feel you have to answer me and I’m so sorry if I just totally overstepped myself.” 

Bradley was surprised, he had only just met this girl, and he knew he had said nothing about his mother being gone, so how the hell did she know that. “Thanks. No, it’s fine. Um, she died about fifteen years ago, sometimes I forget that she’s gone, it's been so long.” 

Her hand was gentle and warm when it touched his. He didn’t even know this girl's name, but it felt comfortable and right. She was comforting him and she didn’t even know him. Something he couldn’t remember experiencing with any of his previous relationships. Hell it took almost a year and a half before Cassie had even remembered that both his parents were dead. Without even realizing what he was doing his hand was readjusting to hold her smaller one, and he laced their fingers together and it just felt right. 

She smiled, mostly to herself, at their intertwined fingers but didn’t pull away. “I understand that. Sometimes I forget my parents are gone too because it’s been so long and something major will happen and the first person I want to tell is my dad or my mom because I know they’ll either be proud or will know just what to say to make me feel better. So I pick up my phone and I’ll be halfway through dialing the number before it hits me like a stack of bricks that they aren’t going to answer.” 

“How long have your parents been gone?” 

“Well, my mom died when I was sixteen so she’s been gone for ten years this year. And my dad passed away shortly after my twenty-second birthday. So almost four years. And it’s just been me and my sister since then.” 

“I wish I had a sibling, maybe that would’ve made it a little easier.” He chuckled wondering how different his life would’ve been if his parents had had more kids. “My dad died when I was four, so it was just me, my mom, and my dad’s best friend when he was around. So when she died I guess I just kind of lost myself.” 

Her thumb stroked circles against his hand and eventually she reached across the bar to take the velvet box from his hand with her free one. “So clearly this Cassie girl wasn’t the lucky girl,” she glanced down at the ring before she removed her hand from his and then slipped the ring onto her own finger. 

After all, something needed to be done to lighten the mood they’d both found themselves in. While it was nice to feel this comfortable with someone she didn’t think she could bear boarding a long flight home sad about their dead parents. 

Normally, Bradley would’ve put up some kind of fight. He wouldn’t just let some random girl he didn’t know put his mother’s ring on, hell he hadn’t even told Cassie that he had it so she’d never even seen it. “I feel like if you’re going to be trying on my mother’s wedding ring I should at least know your name.” 

She bit her lip almost nervously before she removed her necklace and he watched as she took a golden ring off of it. “Give me your hand, please.” 

Once his hand was in hers she placed the ring on his finger and smiled. “I’m Addilyn. And now you have to tell me your name since you’re wearing my dad’s wedding band.” 

Bradley looked down at his hand and had to stop himself from laughing. “Do you always just carry your dad’s wedding band around Addilyn?” 

“Obviously. I mean if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to just slip it on to every man who lets me wear his mom's wedding ring.” And she held a straight face for as long as she could before she burst out laughing. “I mean I wear it as a necklace but not weirdly. It’s just how I keep him close. Now are you going to tell me your name or should I just keep calling you lover boy?” 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt but I just had to tell you, you two are the cutest couple.” 

Bradley turned to tell the woman they weren’t together, but Addilyn beat him to it. 

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you; We’re actually on our way to our honeymoon. And I just don’t know how I got so lucky.” She smiled sweetly at the woman placing her hand on Bradley’s thigh not expecting him to play along, but then he grabbed her hand. 

“Baby girl,” he said, bringing her hand to lips, “I’m the one who’s lucky here. I just can’t believe she actually said yes.” 

“Greg, aren’t they just adorable?” The woman said turning to her own husband, “you two enjoy your honeymoon. Sweetie, come on we gotta go or we’re gonna miss our flight.” 

“Bye! It was nice meeting you!” Addilyn called waving to the couple as they walked away. Then she turned back to Bradley, “well that was fun. Though I feel like I should know my new husband's name.” 

“Are you always like this?” 

“I don’t know lover boy, what am I like?” 

“Forward. Very forward.” 

“See I would’ve gone with like spontaneous or fun. Forward, though that’s hard to work with. Will you call me baby girl again though? I really liked that. And it’s the least you could do since you still have not told me your name.” 

He bit his cheek, finding himself wishing that he could’ve met Addilyn before now. God, how had he never met someone so easy to just be around. “Rooster. You can call me Rooster.” 

“Oh great. See this is why you should learn names before you get married. I married a man who willingly goes by the name Rooster. Like is that the name on your birth certificate?” 

He laughed, honestly he’d expected this which was part of the reason he’d wanted to get it out of the way first. “It’s my callsign, so no sorry not the name on my birth certificate, and ya know that it’s a tremendous disappointment. The name on my birth certificate is Bradley.” 

“Well, Bradley, this really has been fun.” Addilyn told him as she stood up and began collecting her things, then she took the ring off, placed it back into the box and handed it back to him. “But sadly our marriage has come to an end, because my plane is about to board.” 

He smiled as he took his mother’s ring back and slipped it into his bag while he took her dad’s ring and handed it back to her. “You headed to California Baby Girl?” He asked, a smile on his own lips this time as he watched her slip the ring back onto her necklace before she hooked it back around her neck. 

“You stalking me or something Lover Boy?” She pulled her bag over her shoulder biting her lip slightly flirtatiously as she watched him gather his own things before standing up. 

“What would you do if I said yes Baby Girl?” 

“Call the police, you freak. That’s so weird.” She laughed. 

“No, I'm not stalking you. I’m just coincidentally also on my way to California.” 

–

“Wow, I think fate really wants us together or something.” Addy joked with Bradley as they boarded the plane and ended up with seats right next to each other. “Just promise you won’t break my heart, okay. It’s fragile.” 

Bradley playfully rolled his eyes as he got their things situated before he took the window seat. 

After, a couple of hours into the flight Addilyn found her eyes getting heavy and before she knew it she was asleep against Bradley’s arm snuggled underneath her blanket. 

He looked down when he felt her head resting against his arm smiling to himself. He pulled his arm out from under her so he could wrap it around her shoulder making it more comfortable for them both, thankful that he didn’t disrupt her sleep. 

It really was the strangest thing, this comfortable feeling he had. He couldn’t help but think that this was what his mom was talking about when she’d gone on about how you’d just feel it when you loved someone. All the time he’d heard the same thing over and over, ‘when you know you know’. And he’d never really understood that at all. How was he supposed to know? What did it even feel like? And falling in love with someone shouldn’t be so sudden right? You should date someone or at least have gone on at least one date before you knew. Yet here he was sitting on a plane with this girl he’d only known for five hours, and that he could only describe as the prettiest girl he’d ever seen snuggled into him and it was making his heart flutter. It didn’t help either that he could smell her coconut and vanilla shampoo and he thought it was the most heavenly thing he’d ever smelled. 

When the plane landed, they were all getting off for the four-hour layover, which he was not excited about, he had to shake Addilyn to wake up. “Baby girl, you gotta get up, we're getting off the plane.”  

She tiredly stretched and got up ready to grab her things when she noticed Bradley grabbing her bag and slinging it over his shoulder with his own, then he reached behind himself to offer her his hand. She took it, laced her fingers with his and let him lead her off the plane. 

“Did you have a good nap?” 

Addy yawned as she nodded her head. “Yea, you’re a lot more comfortable than you look.” 

“Glad I could be of assistance. You wanna grab some food? I mean we are going to be here for a while.” 

“Um, that's fine. I need to text my sister though. I promised I’d let her know when we landed here then again in California, and when I made it home.” 

 Hey Nat! Miss you already 😭 anyway just landed for a long ass layover will let you know when I’m back in the air! And once I’m nice and rested, I’ll call you so you can hear all about this boy I met! 😍

You’re the only person I know who has never met a stranger. Just be careful, please.

 I will. He seems nice. And he’s cute. But I promise I’ll let you approve first. Don’t want another Jason repeat. 

Yea let’s never go through that shit again. I’m heading to bed though I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. And I promise when we talk I’ll have an open mind about this new guy. Love you.

Love you too. Get some rest.

– 

“So tell me about yourself lover boy,” Addy smiled at him from across the table as she popped a French fry into her mouth. “I mean given we’ve got four hours until our next flight leaves and then at least two hours on the plane I figure we have plenty of time to get to know one another. Though I can’t promise not to fall asleep on you once we’re in the air again.” 

When you know you know Bradley thought to himself, and if everything else hadn’t been enough to tell him apparently this moment was. This was the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, though he would not tell her right now. He’d only just met her and didn’t want to come across as a total creeper. It was weird just knowing something like that given it was supposed to be such a big decision, and he’d always assumed it would take forever for him to figure it out. Yet here he was sitting at a chili’s in an airport having dinner with a girl he’d met while waiting to leave Virginia and somehow he knew that no matter what it took he wanted her in his life for the rest of his life. 

“What would you like to know?” 

She leaned back into the booth and pulled one of her legs up into herself so she could rest her chin on her knee. “Your life story. Tell me everything Bradley Rooster.” 

He couldn’t help but smile at the way his name sounded coming from her lips, the small content smile on her face, and that she had already given him more affection and attention in the short time they’d known each other than Cassie had in their entire relationship. 

So he told her. He told her about how he’d dreamed of joining the navy when he was a little, how he loved playing baseball when he was in school, and how there was a short period when he thought about giving up the navy so he could go pro with baseball. He even told her about how his senior year there were scouts at the games trying to recruit him. His mom had tried to encourage him to at least look into college and think about anything other than the navy, and for a short period he considered it. But the only things he wanted in life were to become a fighter pilot, find a nice girl to settle down with, and start a family. He also told her about how much to his own dismay he did still end up having to go to college so he could get into the naval academy because a man he trusted had pulled his papers which kept him from getting in the first time he applied. Then he told her about how he met Cassie and truthfully he didn’t love her but he’d settled until a good friend had slapped some sense into him. And even then he hadn’t been entirely sure he wanted to end things until she just pushed him past what he was willing to stay for, and he couldn’t justify the relationship even to himself anymore. The next day he’d put in a request to be transferred back to California in hopes that a change of scenery would help. 

“So you’re a pilot in the navy who's transferring to a base in California,” she saw him nodding his head, “why are you flying economy? Shouldn’t you, I don't know, have taken some kind of fancy flight or something, or at least been bumped up to a better seat?” 

Bradley laughed, “typically yea that’s how the whole transfer thing would work. But I requested the transfer, and they gave me the option to fly out immediately or I could catch a commercial flight out given the next time they were flying transfers out was a few months. And well I didn’t want to wait a few months, but I also had a few things to get together so I opted for the commercial flight. And here I am. I think it’s your turn to tell me your story now.”

“I’m a photographer, I do a lot of weddings. I didn’t really get into it until high school though when I went out for the school paper, but I really enjoyed the picture taking and editing process so I pursued it as a career. What I love most about it is the storytelling aspect. I love getting a good candid of someone and then hearing what people think is happening, or shooting a wedding and then looking over the collection and seeing a couple’s love story being told. A huge part of my life is the ocean and the beach. I’ve always just found peace being out in the water or feeling the warm sand between my toes as the water washes over my feet. I’m really close with my sister. Um, I���ve only really had one serious boyfriend in my life and it did not end well. But you live and you learn right?”

The pair spent the next three hours in that booth chatting, laughing, and the more Bradley learned about Addilyn the more attracted to her he felt. 

– 

Their flight landed in San Diego they left the plane and went to collect their bags from the baggage department. Addy could barely stand, or keep her eyes open. She was so tired honestly she could’ve fallen asleep standing up. Bradley well he was used to insane hours and pushing past the point of being tired. Though he’d admit he was also exhausted and couldn’t wait to get to his hotel so he could crash. There was no way he was going to let Addy drive herself home though, she’d never make it. 

“Hey are you gonna be able to make it home?” He asked her bumping his shoulder with hers. 

“I was just gonna call an uber. I didn’t drive myself here.” She yawned before pointing out her bag coming around the belt. “Are you driving home?” 

Bradley went to grab her bag then continued to wait for his own. “I’m heading to check into a hotel for the weekend. I can’t get the keys to my apartment until Monday. Just stay right here for me okay?” 

She agreed, mostly because she was too tired to argue or walk, next thing she knew someone else was coming over to them and grabbing their bags while Bradley knelt down in front of her. “Here, get on my back.” 

“What? No. Bradley it’s fine I’ll just call an uber.” 

“Addilyn get on my back. You’re not going to call an uber this late to take you home. Especially not when I have a ride that won’t cost you anything and then I’ll know for sure you got home safely.” 

She huffed but went along, feeling her body relax against him once she was actually off the ground, her face nuzzled into his neck and she smiled as her nostrils filled with his scent. 

He hooked his arms under her legs and carried her outside glad when he saw his friends pulling up to them. The airport helper loaded the bags into the car for him then Bradley walked to the passenger’s window and smiled at his friends. 

“Rooster, you dog. You didn’t tell us you were bringing a girl home from Virgina. Playa.” 

“Well Fanboy it’s a long story actually, and uh she needs a ride home so I was hoping we could drop her off.” 

“Sure, just as long as she can tell us where the hell she lives. She seems pretty dead to the world right now.” 

Addy mumbled her address against Roosters skin, somehow loud enough for him to hear which he then repeated to Fanboy and Payback who were happy to help. 

Twenty minutes later they were pulling up to a cute little beach house and all three boys were climbing out of the car. Fanboy and Payback grabbed her things and Bradley scooped Addilyn up into his arms so he could carry her inside. At this point she wasn’t much help as she was pretty knocked out. 

“Yea, you’re gonna have to tell us all about this.” Payback said pulling out a set of keys from her bag before he tried to figure out which one was her house key, he finally got it, when he tried the last key. The boys walked her things into her living room before telling Bradley they’d meet him back at the car. The last thing either wanted to do was intrude on her space. 

“Baby girl, you gotta tell me where your room is.” Bradley said, trying to shake her awake. 

“Down the hall first door on the left. Can you stay with me?” She mumbled. 

Now, Bradley felt like he was a fairly respectable guy, and he would never take advantage of a woman. And actually he’d never found himself in a situation quite like this. Usually when Cassie was drunk, and he’d bring her home, he’d just walk her to the bed and let her get in on her own, because she’d made it very clear she didn’t like to cuddle or in her words be coddled. She would sometimes want to have sex which would happen, but that was usually when Bradley was also a little drunk. This was different though. He knew just from the short time he’d known Addilyn that she wasn’t asking him to stay with her because she was drunk and didn’t want to be alone; he knew she wasn’t going to try to get him to fuck her, she just wanted to sleep. And he somehow just knew that she wasn’t asking him to stay with her but telling him he was welcome to stay with her over the weekend so he didn’t have to spend an entire weekend in a hotel. And he probably wouldn’t have stayed if it weren’t for the little tug he felt in his heart at her voice and how fucking adorable she was nuzzling herself closer to him as she tried to cling to sleep. 

“Sure baby girl, I’ll stay.” He put her in the bed laughing softly as he watched her sleepily trying to kick her shoes off and struggling before he jumped in to help. “Do you need help with anything else?” 

“Mm good. Just sleep.” 

He watched as she curled herself up in her bed with a smile before he went to grab his own things and tell the guys that he’d just catch a ride to get his car in the morning. 

“Yea dude can’t wait to hear this story.” 

He rolled his eyes at his friends. “It’s not like we’re dating. We just met. There isn’t really a story there.” 

“Right, because you totally just get all domestic and shit with random girls you meet at the airport. Dude, there’s a story. But it’s cool, I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.” 

—

The following morning Addilyn woke up annoyed at how hot she felt, due to going straight to bed in the clothes she’d traveled home in, and the fact that there was a warm arm thrown over her. Now the arm thing didn’t bother her, when of course she’d remembered that in a sleepy haze she’d told Bradley he could sleep over. And she had to admit that he looked even cuter sleeping, he even had a cute little snore. 

Finally, after adoringly gazing at the sleeping man beside her for long enough she slipped out from under his arm so she could shower, change, and get her day started. 

It felt so nice to be clean from traveling and have the sound of good coffee brewing in her home. One thing she’d never understand about her sister was how she drank the shit she did. 

“Morning sleepyhead,” Addy chirped glancing up at Rooster from her phone when she heard him walk into the kitchen. “Hope you slept okay. Coffee should be ready in like two minutes.” 

“Thanks,” He yawned “I think that was the best sleep I’ve ever gotten. Though you have a huge bed just for you.” 

She shrugged her shoulders. “I know. My ex and I picked it out together when we were talking about marriage and moving in together. Then we broke up and a few days later I had a new king mattress arrive at my house. And I wasn’t going to return it, I mean it’s a nice mattress and I needed a new one anyway.” 

“I guess at least something came from the relationship then.” He joked though he felt awful that she’d thought about marrying someone only for it not to end that way. It made him wonder for just a moment how Cassie felt about the breakup and if she’d thought they were heading towards a marriage as well before he’d left her. Though not in a million years would he go back to her, at least not into any kind of romantic relationship. 

Addy laughed, “I guess you're right. So I have somewhere to be at three. And I cannot be late. My best friend is getting married in two months and we still haven’t found our dresses. So if I’m late she will kill me. But I’m happy to drive you to wherever. Or you can hang out here.” 

“That’s fine. I’m pretty sure my car was delivered a couple days ago. So it’s probably at the base.” 

“Okay. Oh here let me text you so you’ll have my phone number. And the offer still stands for you crash here all weekend if you want. I have a spare key in the hanging potted plant on my porch in case you need in and I’m not home.” </p>

— 

The car ride to the base was easily the most uncomfortable the pair had felt with one another since they’d met the day before. And neither really knew why. Maybe because they both knew that once she dropped him off at his car there was the possibility they’d never see each other again, though neither wanted that to happen. Even though they had exchanged phone numbers it didn’t automatically mean they’d stay in touch either. 

“I do hope you take me up on crashing at my place this weekend.” Addilyn was the first one to break the awkward silence. 

“You gonna miss me too much if I don’t baby girl?” He asked with a little smirk playing on his lips. 

Addilyn readjusted herself slightly in her seat so she was facing him and did her best to ignore the sudden attraction she felt at him calling her baby girl. Honestly, she’d never been called that before him and it was making her feel things today she didn’t expect. 

“Maybe,” she toyed, playing along still to whatever they’d started yesterday. “Only way for you to find out though is to come back I guess Lover Boy.” 

“Well I guess I’ll see you later then. I should head out though for now. Important navy things to do before Monday. But I promise I’ll see you later, baby girl.” He smirked again, sending her a wink as he climbed out of her car. 

Addilyn leaned back into her seat with a sigh as she watched him walk to his blue Ford Bronco, and all she could do was wonder what she’d gotten herself into.

#bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x oc #top gun maverick #top gun masterlist

[ask-asexual-crystal-gems]

@shadowdragon3214

@bluejort

@rosetyler42

ah ok I see what the issue is- somebody put a tag, something like, “this is the level of discourse I’d expect from bimbo” or w/e and I didn’t read the username of the original Tweet came from. So whoever put that tag (idk how Tumblr selects them- I was thinking it was simply the previous user, maybe not) accidentally came across as using bimbo as an insult, but i guess actually they were saying ‘this is what I’d expect’ /pos

now that makes more sense

anyway I’m not sure what OP seemed to take issue with in @bluejorts expounding upon the concept of bodily autonomy since at it’s core it’s a human right, not a this-or-that minority right.

Had no clue what the ethnicity was of the person sharing the screenshot so the fact they felt the need to get defensive and use that as a weapon is telling.

Anyway, if there was a typo, which they say there was, I don’t know what the typo is. I’m not a mind reader. I could re-state two or three sentences that I thought could potentially be synonymous and then OP could pick the one they meant .....

It’s especially confusing since they were trying to address 2 people’s messages at once.

[kirame90]

SniperSpy puts the planning on hold

Take one last look at the happy couple, folks!

As some of you have noticed, I am having quite of a battle with Tumblr at the moment. They’ve hidden my blog because I shared 18+ content YEARS ago and WELL before their change of rules considering adult content. I have deleted all the flagged posts (that were invisible to me before Monday morning) but so far they are refusing to release my blog and are hiding my work from the tags.

So, I believe this is the right time for me to move on. I got this absolutely brilliant idea from an anonymous person (PLEASE TELL ME WHO YOU ARE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!!) where instead of having a rushed wedding (in like 6 months or so xD) the comic shall end on an entirely different note. Please forgive me for the change of quality from now on, I fell in love with their idea so I just had to do it, even if the original plan and comic is still going.

To those who have seen this little story worth reblogging; thank you. Truly, from the bottom of my heart. I know I keep repeating myself but since my content isn’t showing in the tags each and every reblog has been extremely important to me. Apparently the latest plot twist of them getting engaged wasn’t what people had wanted so all the more reason to end this comic with dignity. At least here on Tumblr :)

Wow, that was a lot of words there. I suppose I just want to say thank you and I’m sorry to whoever has been reblogging this and helped me get some (or any) visibility. Your support has been invaluable.

The next page is now available on Patreon. Please note that 100 % of the donations will be donated forward to different non-profits helping people, animals and environment worldwide. This month’s cause is https://savelife.in.ua. I will also pledge to match these donations through Patreon to Finnish Natural Heritage Foundation. Check them both out!

First part / Previous part

The characters don’t belong to me, the artwork does.

All dem other parts:

Part1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 21,5

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

Part 35

Part 36

Part 37

Part 38

Part 39

Part 40

Part 41

Part 42

Part 43

Part 44

Part 45

Part 46

Part 47

Part 48

Part 49

Part 50

Part 51

Part 52

Part 53

Part 54

Part 55

Part 56

Part 57

Part 58

Part 59

Part 60

Part 61

Part 62

Part 63

Part 64

Part 65

Part 66

Part 67

Part 68

Part 69

Part 70

Part 71

Part 72

Part 73

Part 74

Part 75

Part 76

Part 77

Part 78

Part 79

Part 80

Part 81

Part 82

Part 83

Part 84

Part 85

Part 87

Part 88

Part 89

Part 90

Part 91

Alternative ending

Part 93

#sniperspy #sniper x spy #bloodysuit #knifeparty #webcomic #comic #tf2 #tf2sniper #tf2spy #teamfortress2 #k90 #gay disaster #miserable couple #together forever

[5ummit]

I’ve seen a lot of people on my original Censorship Nightmare PSA insisting that Apple is solely to blame for the recent tag ban fiasco and to please not get mad at tumblr uwu. And while this sentiment is mostly correct, I do take issue with it, particularly as a content creator.

Yes, The Ban would almost certainly not have happened at all if it weren’t for Apple’s insanely restrictive app guidelines. As explained in this post from someone who’s personally familiar with Apple’s ridiculous app approval process, it’s pretty clear from what we know that tumblr was probably backed into a corner and The Ban was a hastily thrown together bandaid solution to keep the app from being yanked from the app store right before everyone left for the holidays until a better longterm solution could be developed. I’m sure tumblr did not want this any more than we did.

However, while the situation tumblr found themselves in was absolutely Apple’s fault, the way it was handled rests entirely on tumblr.

I do not know how the banned tags were chosen, but what I can guarantee is that Apple did not hand tumblr a list with tags like “mine” and “reblog” and “my gif” on it and force tumblr to ban them. Apple told them the app was rejected along with the reason why (because NSFW content was found by whoever happened to review it that day) and it was up to tumblr to come up with and implement a solution to fix the “issue” before the app removal deadline.

Now a temporary ban on “sensitive content” tags in and of itself is not a terrible stopgap solution given the circumstances, and it could’ve been implemented in such a way that 99.9% of users were never affected by it at all (this is not me endorsing or approving of this solution btw, I think I’ve made my feelings on censorship pretty clear in previous posts). The Big Problem of course is the particular tags that were chosen.

There are many theories floating around about where The List came from given how absurd many of them are. As I’ve mentioned before, my personal theory is that a bunch of flagged blogs were scraped and all of their commonly used tags were dumped into a “banned tags” database. Regardless of the actual method though, what’s clear to anyone with half a brain is that no real human being was involved in picking these out. And herein lies the problem.

I get that this solution was probably hastily thrown together at the last minute by some overworked underpaid engineers on a very tight deadline. I get that. And using some sort of algorithm to assemble The List is not only perfectly acceptable, it's what should be done since it would be very hard for someone to know all of the common NSFW tags that may be used off the top of their head. However, on a platform like this with millions of users whose posts would potentially be blocked entirely from searches and their own followers depending on the tags chosen, there is no excuse for why there wasn’t even a cursory glance at The List from a real person at any point in the process. It would literally take 2 seconds to see that many of these words do NOT belong and that maybe a mistake had been made somewhere.

Absolutely the people who were hit the hardest and suffered the most from this disaster of an update were the very people whom tumblr relies on to bring users to their site at all: content creators. Engagement on this hellsite is already such a demoralizing struggle most days, but to significantly reduce the viewers of our content even further by blocking 80% of the common content creation tags (along with many other common tags) from both searches and dashboards? Unconscionable. And for what? It doesn’t even gain them anything. The vast vast majority of the posts tagged with “my gif” are completely innocuous and would not be cause for Apple to reject the app in the first place.

Not only that, but it’s not like an Apple-approved workaround for NSFW content hasn’t already existed for months, if not years. All of those sites (Twitter, Reddit, Discord) that cause everyone to wonder why their apps are able to remain on the app store when they have even more NSFW content than tumblr? They use the same toggle solution that tumblr is supposedly developing.

It would be one thing if the NSFW issue was a recent change in policy sprung on tumblr at the last minute (in which case I would be much more lenient in my judgement), but Apple’s strict guidelines are not new and have been a perennial thorn in tumblr’s side, supposedly resulting in multiple app rejections in the past. The latest app rejection that prompted The Ban was not an unforeseen event and they had plenty of time to preemptively implement the toggle solution, or something similar, before circumstances forced their hand.

Through their laziness and incompetence, tumblr actually ended up doing way more harm than any good that may’ve resulted from the app being allowed to stay in the app store until a better solution could be implemented. Remember, even if an app is removed from the store, anyone who already has the app downloaded will still be able to use it with no interruption to their experience – only new users wouldn’t be able to download it. And now, since it’s the holidays and nobody is working, we’re stuck with this horrible situation until the promised fix is finally implemented (with no timeline given yet).

So yes, blame Apple and their shitty policies and their incomprehensible app approval process. But don’t you dare let tumblr off the hook for this either.

#I doubt anyone is even going to read this #but I had to get it out of my system #all of my followers probably: 'shut up about the banned tags! SHUT UP ABOUT THE BANNED TAGS!' #tumblr purge 2: electric boogaloo #tumblr #my words #wendy's help desk

[drippingmoon]

Bucket List 2

@sleepy-night-child thanks for the tag, nightfriend🥰 somehow I have more titles for these than yesterday's batch haha. Except for Season of the Moths, the rest I only kinda see as worldbuilding and plot pieces I can extract for other wips. But who knows

Waterwillow. Most of the world has been submerged in water. There's a war between his isle-state and an underwater faction, and at the height of the war, someone infiltrates into their territory and the General is the one to take the shot. He miraculously survives, but wakes up many months later and will never be able to fight again. The war is taking a turn for the worse; unwilling to sit by and wait to be drowned, he undertakes a journey to explore the acid waters in the North. Maybe, just maybe he can find a way past them and help his people flee the war. But even in his heyday, he hadn't been a good swimmer.

The Hallowed Kingdom. This was my attempt at writing a fairytale, I've always wanted to do one of those^^, and got through a quarter of it but it was getting a bit long. What makes the kingdom hallowed is that every person is born with a clear trope and purpose, written down into the Library on their birth. That way, life can only be monotonous and peaceful. But when someone intrudes into the kingdom, of course, they have a blank slate. And soon after, he discovers exactly what happens to those who don't follow their story. The resident mortician buries them in a coffin and sets them on a journey on the river out of the kingdom to be on their way:) (it's not a comedy 🤣)

Season of the Moths. This was a side novel to my previous wip series, and even if I benched it forever... Harvest remains one of the best characters I've ever written and I love him to bits haha. He wakes up from death one day many centuries after he died. When he returns home, he doesn't recognize anything. But that would've been fine. What's worse, is that the original Season of Winter, the one who killed him in the first place, is the first face to greet him.

Rendered. Local convict escapes being hanged because so it happens that at the same time a bloodthirsty god refuses to be killed and breaks free. In order not to be killed on the spot, the man promises to be his follower and that he'll help him with everything. Along the way they get closer, but time comes when the god loses his senses, and it's up to his friend to save him. Of course, life's never that easy. Good thing he gets ressurected every time he's killed by his god's hand, or else he really would've turned into a ghost just to haunt the bastard.

Unnamed again. So three reformed dark wizards have to prove that they really have switched to the good side. The catch is, none of them know that the others are in the same boat. They're overseen by a dwarf and his son, and without being told, they're used as guard dogs to safekeep one very important item that in any other circumstances would've had their eyes twinkling with greed. But right now, they have to play house, and they have to play nice

Leaving this one open for whoever didn't get the chance to do it yet and wants to:)

#tag games #the general and the dark wizard ones are both based on two separate dreams #actually the last one was so long and was in tv show format. i woke up laughing and it was the best dream i've ever had #i was so annoyed that i didn't get to see the end their interactions were too much 🤣 #and that moth #Mesema 🥰🥰 (Mema) #it becomes his very first Spirit and i love it very dearly #so to take a Spirit the Seasons basically had to trick someone on their death bed into swearing them allegiance so that they didn't die #which even if necessary for the Seasons Harvest had second and fifth thoughts after getting to know Mema #but Mema felt its kinship to him anyway and became a Spirit willingly 🥰 because it knew he wouldn't survive otherwise #(and dude needed an advisor on the Winter situation) #on unrelated news i hate fridays so much i connected spiritually with imera haha

[dorotharry]

tiny dancer ; chapter two

Pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: torture, nightmares, angst, let me know if there's anything else :) 

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: honestly I have no clue where I’m going but I’m hoping you’re all still following. There’s still soooo much to go into readers past and yep, it’s gonna take a while but I hope you enjoy this. Please feel free to give feedback, like and repost it would mean a lot! :)

MY MASTERLIST

*gif not mine

1943

Your head felt groggy, as you woke up. Not enough energy from an ounce of your body to open your eyes for the time being. The more your body woke up from the darkness of slumber the more the pounding of aches and pains became less subtle and started to fill each and every muscle. You weren’t sure where you were or what had happened, but you suddenly became aware that your surroundings weren’t familiar. The air was too cool and there was an eeriness from lack of noise.

Finally, you were able to pry your eyes open. The colours swirled around you into one, until they became to create recognisable shapes. Although this wasn’t somewhere you recognised, just as your mind had thought even before getting to look around.

You were laid down on a metal ‘bed’ if you could even call it a bed. The coolness of the metal began to get to you a shiver running down your spine and you attempted to get up. Only to be restricted. It was now when you noticed you had straps holding your ankles, down, but not only this; there was a limpness to your form. In fact, you didn’t have any real connection to your muscles. As if a switch had been turned on in your head you realised, this wasn’t a bed. It was a table.

Suddenly your anxiety rose. In an ill attempt to do something you turned you head groggily to the left, only to be met with machines, and hospital devices. You took in a sharp breath. This definitely wasn’t a hospital so why the machines? Rolling your head to the right with just as much difficultly as last time you were met with darkness. The faint sound of feet shuffling in the distance, and the whirring of more machines.

Almost as if whoever it was had realised you were awake, a bright white light turned on above you causing you to groan from the sudden contrast to the previous darkness. The footsteps became louder, as whoever it was approached you from their hiding spot.

“Ah you’re awake,” the voice started, “you know you gave our men quite a difficult time back there. Are you going to behave this time?”

Your voice barely was able to respond, only a hushed whisper came out, “Who are you? Where am I?” This worked to rejog your memory as you saw flashes of men running after you, as you had leapt from this same table. You had gotten pretty far and fought back fairly well but this place… whatever it was; was a maze. Realising now that amongst being kidnapped and knocked unconscious. Your first attempt to escape was probably why you were in pain all over. A vision of a few men jumping on top of you and beating you unconscious. Again. That must have been why you were tied down this time.

“I think you know the answer to that.” the small man with glasses responded appearing finally out of the darkness. “…We’re HYDRA, and you y/n...” He spoke reaching under your chin in a condescending manner. “…Were firstly going to be a pawn against your stupid Captain America. But you’ve shown promise, something our other soldiers don’t have.  Neither your American ones. My guess is it comes from your ballet training.” He shrugged as he moved away from you, turning and looking for something. Suddenly his hand was on a switch and machines began to rumble.

“Please,” you responded choking on your own words, “please just kill me!” You knew something was coming, otherwise why would be so aloof.

He chuckled at your words as he stood behind you. “The red skull doesn’t want me to do that, he needs more soldiers, and that’s exactly what we’re going to make you.” And with that you saw a metal machine slowly being dropped down over your left eye, and below your right jaw, causing your panic to rise. As quick as the unbearable pain started, so did darkness.

Present day ; 2017

You woke up screaming as the pain of what had happened almost a century ago shot through your entire body. You fumbled out of bed in a sweat like you did most nights. Heading towards your small kitchen in your small apartment. It was filled with greys, no life within in, you felt there was no need, why celebrate a life with no life?

Your life had changed in so many ways after 1943. You were one of HYDRA’S many toys, the many men that surrounded you called you tiny dancer, but not in a kind way, in a misogynistic arrogant way. Most people at that time though saw you as a weapon, something to be feared of, and they should have.

After you had stumbled upon the Winter Soldier on a mission in 2014 working as a freelance agent having cut your ties with HYDRA mere months before hand, it was only a few months when so had Captain America. From what you had heard amongst assassins under the radar living in Madripoor like you, it hadn’t gone well for HYDRA and now the Winter Soldier was nowhere to be found, invoking fear within many who had made themselves enemies to him. But you were sure his best friend would be looking for him. Whilst you had decided to go against helping him, Steve was not that kind of person.

Time had not been kind to you, you were no longer the frail girl who could fall in love in a week. In fact, you weren’t sure if you actually could feel love anymore. HYDRA had to make sure there was no collateral. Still once you saw him that night you wondered how amongst your many years with HYDRA, how you had never run into Bucky: The Winter Soldier. You had heard of the winter soldier, but you never knew it was Bucky behind the ghost of a person. Probably on purpose, HYDRA had been in your mind. Tthere was no doubt they knew who he was to you back then.

Not only did it invoke these thoughts, but it had led to your retirement. Well not your retirement, you were still about 25 years old on the outside, and though nor Steve or Bucky knew you were alive you knew how it felt to be in their position.

Hiding out in your small apartment in Madripoor was where you had spent most of your life since 2014, staying on the down low in case HYDRA somehow re-emerged, looking for revenge on a project they had wasted so much time on. You.  

You weren’t sure why they were so surprised people like you hated them with so much anger. They had taken your life, Bucky’s life and made you weapons against your will. You didn’t hold their values, it was forced upon you.

You shook yourself from your thoughts again. You only got sentimental after nightmares, and the nightmares had been pretty continuous after seeing Bucky those few years ago, so really you were sentimental most mornings. You think it had something to do with seeing him and how it brought back memories you didn’t even know you had.

Reaching for a bottle of water, you took a sip looking over at the clock that read 3am. You groaned, knowing that you’d probably never have a good night’s sleep again. Terrible payback for a terrible past. No sleep for the wicked.

You shuffled yourself back to your room getting into bed and turning on the tv as a way to mindlessly distract yourself until you actually had to do stuff.

A few hours past until it was 7am, and you decided you could at least go for a shower before your day at work. Working at a bar that opened at 9am wasn’t exactly high class living; especially when you had to deal with drunks so early in the day, so it definitely required more motivation than most jobs. You couldn’t do what you were originally good at, dance. And you’d decided you probably shouldn’t be doing what you were trained for. Killing people.

Turning on the shower to allow it to warm up, you rid yourself of your clothes, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles were after another bad dream. Stepping in you let the water try and wash it away, and though it did help you knew it would only reappear tonight in another form of a nightmare. You closed your eyes sighing in content, and it did last for a brief moment until you heard banging on your front door.

At first you tried to ignore it, but it got louder and more aggravated and suddenly your heart had fell to your stomach, resorting to thinking of the worst that could be behind that door. Getting out you threw some clothes back on. You reached under your bed grabbing your shot gun, holding it close to yourself as you slowly walked towards the door that had started banging again. Times like this you wished you had a peep hole to look through.

You turned on your best poker face and opened the door abruptly to be more hostile. Only you were met with someone you didn’t know, though for some reason you felt you recognised. On the other side of the door stood a woman all in black, her hair was in a blonde bob and for a brief second you thought you saw a reaction flash across her face like she knew you too.

“Is this y/n?” she spoke firmly and with poise.

You raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Is it?” she returned her poker face staying on her face.

“Yes.” You huffed, the half-amused face falling from your face, returning back to the glare you constantly wore. “Who are you?”

She raised her hand for you to shake her face accompanying it with a small smile, which you hesitantly took.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve been looking for you under Fury’s instruction for a while, my name’s Natasha.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@maybe-a-marvel​ @thatredlipped-classic​ @flightsandfantasy​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @rebelemilu​ 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #buck #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barns x reader #marvel #mcu #the winter soldier #the winter solider imagine #steve x reader #steve rogers #black widow #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #sebastian x y/n #Sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky fic #female reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #Sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes imagine #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

[starglow-xx]

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 2)

platonic! fukuzawa yukichi x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !! 

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

previous: part 1: meeting the greatest detective

author’s note: ages are a year younger than canon so ranpo is 25, yosano 24, kunikida & dazai 21, fukuzawa 44, you’re 19, and atsushi and the other younger members are not employed yet

and i guess slight spoilers for the untold origins of the armed detective agency but not really. it’s just a reference to it tbh

their beloved president

going to Sakura’s the next morning wasn’t what Fukuzawa had planned during his week

the reason he was dropping by was to give you money for the sweets you had given ranpo

when he had arrived back at the agency the evening before, he had made a big fuss about you and Sakura’s

he had sparked a lot of people’s interest seeing as ranpo was well invested in whoever you were and what your business was

he wouldn’t stop talking about the “cute and annoying bakery girl” who practically saved the agency simply bc she sheltered him during the rain and fed him and almost got hit by a car for him

i mean, how would the agency survive without ranpo? it was founded to make use of his intelligence and ability after all

the other agency employees exchanged looks and that’s when ranpo tiredly sighed and showed them his phone

on the screen was a contact, yours to be exact, labeled “cute bakery girl” with the note underneath reading “best follower, sweets supply & annoying little kid”

around that time, the president had stepped out of his office to see his employees huddling around ranpo and his phone

he walked over to them and asked what was going on, and seeing the president, ranpo explained what had happened with more details

“so you’re saying that a young girl, 19 years old, nearly got herself run over to shelter you from the rain, gave you food, closed her business early so you could keep talking, and when the rain stopped, she gave you a map and even more food, and even though she may have been inconvenienced, she did not ask for anything back? nor did you offer to give her anything back? even though she relies from the money she earns to survive?

“...maybe.”

after a, private chat with ranpo, fukuzawa ended up saying that he’d go take a visit to Sakura’s first thing in the morning to pay off the sweets that she’d given him by sliding an envelope of money under the door with a note

he initially told ranpo to go back right away (and to bring someone with him this time) but that ended up not pulling through bc ranpo had told him you went to retire for the evening

so yeah

there he was walking towards your bakery when he saw a small black cat with green eyes near the entrance playing with one of the potted plants outside

even though it was small, fukuzawa could tell that it wasn’t kitten due to his love of cats but the cat was still small compared to other adult cats

when he was just a couple feet away from the entrance to your bakery, the black cat took notice of him and walked his way before rubbing itself against his leg

fukuzawa let out a small smile as he bent down to pet the small creature, and the cat gladly ate up all the attention

suddenly the entrance to Sakura’s bursts open, and there you are looking back and forth frantically 

but you soon spot him and the cat and you visibly calm down

the black cat rushed to you and rubbed itself against your leg

it turns out the cat was yours, and you couldn’t find him so you panicked and rushed out the door

from there, you introduced yourself with fukuzawa doing the same

you still had about a little more than forty five minutes til Sakura’s was scheduled to open but you offered fukuzawa to come in anyways

he declined at first, but he gave in when, just how you did with ranpo the day before, you dragged him into your bakery

“you know, fukuzawa-san, this is giving me some major deja vu!”

“it’s because of ranpo i presume.”

“oh! you know ranpo-san?”

when the two of you entered, you rushed to a table and pulled out a seat for him before you disappeared off into the kitchen

just a few minutes later, you appeared with a tray with two steaming mugs, two hot plates of food, and small basket of bread

you set one mug in front of fukuzawa as well as a plate of food while you set the other mug and plate in front of the seat across from him and the basket of bread near the center by the small vase of flowers that you had for a center piece

he gave you a confused look as you sat in front of him and as your cat leaped into your lap

“ah! it’s pretty early in the morning, and you still have to go to work later, so i thought you should at least have a little something before you go. and i didn’t have breakfast yet so i thought it would be nice to have some tea with some company. and i made extras anyways!”

fukuzawa blinked before letting out a small smile and he quietly thanks you

you beam at him and as the both of you begin to eat, you ask him why he’s here this early and how he knows ranpo

with that, the silver haired man addresses your questions and explains the reason why he’s here and how he knows the brown clad male 

after explaining, fukuzawa pulls out the envelope with some money and slides it over to you

you try to reject it, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re screaming bc you know you need the money for bills and whatnot

fukuzawa wasn’t very helpful either

“so you’re saying you don’t need the money?”

“...no”

you end up accepting the money much to your inner conscience’s chagrin and to fukuzawa’s inner delight

moving on from that, for the rest of the time he was there—the last 40ish minutes or so—you rambled and talked to fukuzawa like how you did with ranpo the day prior, only this time, with a cat switching his resting point for either yours or fukuzawa’s lap

honestly, you’ve gone through so much deja vu and at this point, you’re not sure if you’re still in reality or not

sometime in your conversation, fukuzawa learned that your cat, ironically, was named lucky

apparently you found him in an alley while you were grocery shopping two weeks ago and since you took him in, you noticed that Sakura’s received a lot of new customers and that a lot of them actually ended up becoming regulars

speaking of the cat, you kept having to stop lucky from eating the food on the table

if fukuzawa was amused from your antics along with lucky’s, he was pretty good at hiding it

you: “lucky you naughty cat! i already told youuu” >:(

lucky: >:3

fukuzawa internally: :) & :D

the two of you had also became well engaged in talking about different kinds of tea, with fukuzawa even complimenting you with the tea you had made for him

it became his favorite <33

you were so happy <3

oop there’s that kid-like behavior again🤭

don’t tell ranpo🤫

scratch that he probably already knows somehow </3

speaking of which, the two of you also talked about the childish detective

it was kind of hard to tell whether or not you were admiring him <3 or insulting and complaining </3 about him lol

“so you’re the president ranpo-san was talking about huh. we talked a lot about his job yesterday! it seems quite exciting! but he talks quite a lot honestly.”

“ranpo talked a lot about you as well”

“ah really?! he can be a bit of an ass, but he really is amazing isn’t he?”

“mhmm”

through fukuzawa, you also learned how the two had first met, and this time, it was hard to tell whether you were amazed or angry at him

“awh that’s so cool!! but for someone so smart, he’s an idiot! what if he got hurt?! it was a good thing you got there huh fukuzawa-san?”

if you thought ranpo was like an older brother figure, you definitely saw fukuzawa as some sort of father figure

he noticed that you started to act like ranpo a little bit

you had developed some sort of attachment to him and when he praised you abt your tea, you had the same glow ranpo has when he gives him praise

not that fukuzawa minds

you’re just another child he’s adopting !! <33

not that either of you knew that hehe >:D

time went by pretty fast and before you knew it, there was only 10 minutes until you were scheduled to open

it was a good thing you had just finished all your prep before fukuzawa arrived

after making a promise with fukuzawa for him to come back again for some more tea, he stood up and made his way to the door as you carefully lifted lucky from your lap so you could quickly wash the dishes and to wipe the table and chairs you used

you offered some baked goods and some tea for to go but fukuzawa declined saying that you needed your supplies for your customers

as soon as you placed lucky on the wooden surface, he bolted to fukuzawa and kept on circling his legs and rubbing against him to stop him from leaving

i guess it turns out you weren’t the only one to get attached to fukuzawa

he couldn’t get even one step closer to the door without lucky reacting and running rapid circles around his legs to get him to stop moving

you didn’t know what to do and you were starting to freak out bc it was almost time to open up, but fukuzawa saved the day and offered to take lucky back with him and promised to take him back the next day

at first, like how you did with the money, you declined but ended up giving in when you saw quite a few of your morning regulars walking down the sidewalk towards Sakura’s for its opening

fukuzawa simply picked up the cat and walked out the door giving you one last wave of good bye

when they left, there was only about 5 minutes left and you rushed to finish the last minute clean up

when fukuzawa arrived at the agency (after a quick stop at home) with a cat in his grasp, let’s just say that quite a few more questions were raised

when asked about the cat, he simply answered that he was cat-sitting for a friend and ranpo knowingly smiled

but he then realized that fukuzawa arrived without any of your signature baked goods and he started complain as the rest of the agency members stared in confusion

with ranpo’s visit, they had quite a few questions, but with fukuzawa’s visit to Sakura’s, their confusion only grew a whole lot more and will continue to keep growing

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[continuityssue]

Just re-watched Fear Street: 1666 and 1994 pt2 for the first time since completing the trilogy originally and noticed a few things:

1) I remembered originally having the impression going into 1666 that Deena wasn’t just seeing 1666 through Sarah’s eyes, but that she was actually experiencing it and having at least some effect on it. Which lead me to expect going in that she was going to change things so the curse never happened or at least ended in 1666, but when my expectations weren’t fulfilled I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what had given me that impression. Now I know. Three things, one was that the tag line for 1666 was something like end the curse and there was a summary released weeks in advance saying that the people from 1994 and 1978 were both trying to end the curse in 1666, which all sounded like time travel to me. But I think the most misleading thing (because those both could just be the PR team phrasing things badly) was that at the end of 1978 and again at the beginning of 1666 we see Sarah/Deena sort of gasping and then looking at her reflection in the water and looking shocked to see OG!Sarah’s face looking back at her.

2) I had previously noticed that all of the dead Shadysiders from the previous movies except for one played the people who reburied Sarah at the end of the 1666 segment, that one being Mad Thomas/Tommy (also noticed that he and the widow Mary/Nurse Mary Lane are the only characters where both characters played by the same actors have the same names). This time I also noticed that Mad Thomas and Tommy are the only characters played by the same actor that have wildly different characters. Deena and Sarah are both strong willed outliers, Kate and Lizzie are both well meaning drug dealers, Simon and Isaac are both shown as playful, Abigail and Cindy and Constance Ziggy have their pure/wild sister dynamic, Caleb and Peter are both handsy dicks, the Widow and Nurse Lane are both healers that are little mentally off, but Tommy is literally described as sweet and perfect and is shown to be so, while Mad Thomas is a judgemental asshole with a drinking problem who apparently has some sort of STI. I don’t know what to take from this fact, but it kind of ticked a thought in my head.

3) I hadn’t thought much of it before as I had just thought they were doing some offbrand version of a Dutch/Amish accent to play puritans, but whoever said that it sounded more Irish/Scottish and it made no sense in the context was definitely right.

4) I hadn’t noticed before that, when Ziggy and Deena were both looking up at the tree in the mall (and flashing back to wholly different traumatic events), Deena was holding the pile of books that would become her knife resistant armor at the end of the movie. This was a nice little foreshadowing.

5) This isn’t new, but the half possessed Sam running across the mall and into the maintenance doors is still the funniest shot in the whole trilogy.

Edit:

6) Can anyone tell me if Sarah’s dog is the same dog as Major Tom?

#Fear Street 1666 #Fear Street 1994 #Fear Street 1978 #Fear Street Series #Deena Johnson #Kate Schmidt #Simon Kalivoda #Tommy Slater #Mad Thomas #Lizzie Fear Street #Ziggy Berman #Cindy Berman #Abigail Berman #Constance Berman #Peter Fear Street #Caleb Fear Street #Mary Lane #Widow Mary #Sarah Fier