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luxeslore · 11 hours

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husband & wife | simon riley

word count -> 2k

content + warnings -> 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. REGENCY ERA / ARRANGED MARRIAGE!AU, f!reader, angsty (hurt + comfort), societal pressures, talk of having babies + mentions of motherhood, suggestive but no smut.

notes from yours truly — huge thank you to my friend for giving this a read for me! bridgerton / the queen charlotte series has officially made me lose it. on that note, please enjoy viscount riley and his precious wife in all their glory.

Six months. That’s how long you’ve been cooped up in the Riley estate— you’ve been keeping track with the help of your lovely maids.

The majority of your time is spent in the library. You wake up after Simon has already started his duties for the day, have your breakfast, and then bury your nose in romance novels. Simon has told you to put them down several times, not wanting you to fill your head up with schemes and fairytales. To which you promptly roll your eyes once he’s out of the room.

It’s not your fault there’s a surprisingly fair amount of them on the shelves; you assume his mother enjoyed them in her time.

There’s little you truly know about the Riley family for someone who’s living in their home. Aside from the common knowledge that Simon’s father was a cruel man. A man that single handedly ruined the reputation of his wife and children through debt, spirits, and an overall cruel disposition. Up until Simon became old enough to truly cease his title of Viscount after his father’s death, they understandably remained in the shadows and out of the ton’s line of sight.

Your chest had always ached for them whenever something vile was spread around town. Having the same status but a completely different upbringing, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what they went through, especially when society can already be so cruel.

Sometimes you imagine Simon as a boy. Completely different from the man you married. With full cheeks, surely no sprouts of gray hair hidden in the blonde shag on his head. All of those sweet and innocent qualities you’ve seen in their family portraits. If you had known each other growing up you would have offered him companionship in a heartbeat.

You can’t help but wonder what your own children will look like… If you and him ever get that far in your marriage. You don’t believe Simon wants children, and you’re not so sure if you can blame him for that. However that isn’t enough reasoning to bat the feeling that’s bubbling in you away. You want a baby. Terribly so, given it’s all you’ve been looking forward to since the idea of marriage and having your own family popped into your pretty head.

Perhaps bringing a child into an affectionless union would be cruel on your part, but you’d be less lonely. Your heart would be abundantly full hearing little giggles, or the pitter patter of small feet running down the grand hallways to find you. To even just see a piece of you and Simon together that isn’t as forced as your marriage was, but made out of love instead.

You sniffle once, without even realizing there’s a tear rolling down your cheek. Used to the feeling, you suppose. You toss your book to the side, adding it on to your growing pile before uncurling yourself and getting up from the reading nook. The sky is a deep navy, the stars dazzle through the windows as the moon glows along with them— it’s late, you conclude whilst blowing out the candles in the library.

The bedroom is empty when you arrive. There’s only a few traces of Simon here and there; he spends most of his time in his study. You find yourself getting ready for bed all alone again, with no lover to crawl under the linens with and tuck into.

You’re having a peaceful morning. You’ve opened the windows in the drawing room, allowing some fresh air in while you enjoy your tea and a slice of pound cake. A breakfast on the sweeter side to lighten your recent mood. You drop a sugar cube into your tea, swishing a small spoon around in your cup until it dissolves.

There’s a bundle of letters from back home. Absolutely one from your mother, asking if you’re with child. And if not now, then when. It’s always snuck in there— you puff your cheeks out in what feels like defeat, ready to ask your maid to fetch your quill as you undo the twine binding them all together.

However before you can open your mouth, you hear Simon. You’ve gotten used to how the floorboards creak here and there under his steps, yet your heart still jumps. Lord Riley isn’t necessarily a morning person, or sociable with anyone in the early hours. His voice is grumbly, “Good morning, my lady.”

“Good morning, my lord.” You don’t look up from the letter in your hand.

A few moments pass. He pours himself some tea, paces around the room a bit ungracefully, and then finally sits across from you in the opposite chair— “Are you feelin’ alright?”

Your eyebrows furrow, yet you finally grace him with your gaze. “What makes you ask, my lord?”

“Well,” he pauses, “you’ve been quiet as of late.”

You simper, “You’d rather have me gabber on to you over nothing all day?”

Simon laughs, although he appears to be struggling. He’s never been a conversationalist and that has been apparent from day one, but there’s a difference between his inherent awkwardness and the way you make him awfully nervous. If he had to explain, the way he finds himself undeserving of having a living angel from the Heavens under the same roof as him, let alone sleeping in the same bed every night.

While he seems to be lost in his own head, you take in the state of him— the bags under his eyes from being up far past midnight, scars on his chest peeking out due to the undone buttons of his blouse. You’re aware that you're staring, but you’re married after all. And your fingers twitch, eager to glide through his somewhat disheveled hair and provide any kind of comfort he’d allow you to.

He’s handsome. More delectable than he knows. If you two were an actual love match you’re sure you’d be properly smitten. Swooning left and right knowing such a man is yours alone to share the kind of honeyed kisses and naughty whispers you read about with. You snap out of it quickly, refusing to upset yourself.

“Not quite,” he mutters just loud enough for you to hear. You’d forgotten you asked him something in the first place. You’ve nearly forgotten how to breathe at this point, too. He continues on as he gets up from his seat “Wait for me tonight.”

He takes a step closer, and you’re not expecting him to place a large hand on either armrest of your chair, leaning over you with warmth in his amber irises. You naturally shy away, being unfamiliar with this kind of attention from anyone… not to mention him. You clear your throat and shuffle in your seat upon realizing how warm you feel all of the sudden.

“You mean,” you begin at the risk of sounding daft, “In our chambers, correct?”

He jests, “Unless you’ve other plans.”

“No,” You breathe out, “I’ll wait for you, Simon.”

His eyes widen at your use of his name. Not a title but his given name, something that’s meant to be spoken by you only but rarely comes out. Your husband nods once, bidding you a good day as if you won’t spend the rest of your time twiddling your thumbs and waiting for nightfall.

Looking back on it, the earlier months of your marriage were bleak.

Simon insisted on sleeping in different rooms. You only saw him for your shared meals and balls you were obligated to attend. You had no choice but to nod along and listen to him. To smile and pretend when other ladies and wives attempted to pull details about your love life out of you. No matter how deep they tried to dig, it was futile.

You were alright with this arrangement at first, despite how hard you cried some days.

It’s only that the nights got colder and darker, so much so that you found yourself tiptoeing to his room one night. Kicking yourself for failing to keep your facade together. There were tears pooling at your lashes as you hesitantly knocked on the aged wood making up his door. And while half asleep, Simon took you in when you least expected him to. You don’t know that in the moment, it dawned on him that he can’t deny such a sweet girl like you a single thing, but you do know something changed.

That’s all you can think of as you smooth your hands down your nightgown.

You eye yourself in the mirror while the silence in the room takes over. You relieved your maids of their duties only moments ago, realizing you couldn’t keep them there all night and awaiting Simon with you. You wish you had any kind of company now. Someone simply sitting in the corner while you fidget about would be enough.

Until you hear the door open. Your ears perk up; you consider nose diving onto the bed and pretending to be asleep before Simon fully enters the room. Yet you hold yourself up with pride and the little energy you have left, looking over your shoulder as he saunters in.

“I know our union hasn’t been… satisfactory, given the circumstances,” his voice shakes despite how sturdy and resolute he is day in and day out, “I know there are certain things I cannot give you at the moment. However, I—”

You whip around. Unable to hear him prattle on about things you’re already aware of. If this is what he had you waiting for, you would have much rather forced yourself to go to sleep at this hour.

“My lord, this is unnecessary.” You’re blunter than he ever could have expected you to be, “I was raised to be a good wife no matter what the circumstances may be, and an even better mother whether I’m blessed with children or not. There’s no use for your theatrics unless they’re leading us somewhere.”

“My theatrics?” Simon scoffs, now carrying his usual strong conviction. He wraps a large hand around your wrist, but there’s nothing threatening about his grip while he tugs you closer to him, refusing to let you petulantly stomp away. “I believe you’re confused, darling. I don’t waste my breath babblin’ words that aren’t sincere.”

For the second time today, his body is close to your own. But never close enough to give you what you need.

“Right, although what you’ve been missing all these months is… I want you to show me instead of telling, Simon.” You whisper, your pleading eyes meeting his own, “Show me that we can both be satisfied in our marriage… please.”

Simon wraps an arm around you in an instant. Your chest is pressed to his, and his size compared to your own forces you to feel helpless in a new way entirely. He builds up the courage to kiss you. It’s nothing like the chaste pecks he places on your forehead in the morning. His hot mouth presses against yours until your lips part with a gasp and he’s able to roll his tongue into your mouth. You melt into him, desperately clawing at him for more.

You whimper his name, puffy breaths escaping you with the rise and fall of your chest. Simon bends down, only to grab you up and lift you. You’re tossed onto your shared bed. The grin that tugs at your lips is cheeky to say the very least and Simon looks gorgeous when he matches your expression, already trying to get your gown out of the way by bunching the cotton up. His lips trail along your jaw, down your neck, along your chest. His nose drags over where your cleavage begins and peeks out, and you tremble beneath him.

“I’ll show you,” he nearly moans, “I’ll show you what it means to be husband ‘n wife.”

Simon may not give you a baby tonight… and your marriage may not be as bountiful as the gardens outside or as sweet as the marzipan he keeps in the kitchen for you to snack on right now. But he’s determined to change that. To be a better man— a giving husband and a tender lover, healing you and himself by extension. Starting with worshiping every inch of your soft skin that he's been depriving himself of, and you’re blissfully content with that.

OTHER PARTS:

earl price

duke garrick

baron mactavish

©LUXESLORE 2024 — 18+ CONTENT, MDNI ♥︎ copying, modifying or reposting my work is not permitted.

#⌨️.luxe's writing #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod x reader #cod x you

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cutielando · 2 days

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i don’t know what to do ~ carlos sainz

Summary: After the news broke out that Carlos wouldn’t be extending his contract with Ferrari, it leaves you both wondering what was in store for the driver in the future, if anything at all.

Words: 1.5k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡ Nobody prepares you for the moment when your life is going to change.

There are no warnings, no signs to say “Watch Out! Your life is about to go to hell!”. There is no such thing.

You were on vacation with your fiancé, everything was going smoothly before he had to begin training for the start of the season.

Relaxing on the beach, soaking up the sun and basking in each other’s presence for a couple of more weeks before the chaos would resume.

But you didn’t expect your serenity to be completely blown out of the park with only one phone call.

You hadn’t thought anything of it when Carlos’ manager called him, having been receiving a lot of phone calls as the start of the season grew nearer and nearer. But seeing Carlos’ face as he listened was the first sign that something was definitely wrong.

It wasn’t until he ended the call that you really got a good look at him, at how pale he was and how lost his eyes were. His face held no emotion, his body rigid and his movements almost robotic.

“Amor? What’s wrong?” you took careful steps towards him, not wanting to freak him out or scare him out of his state.

He didn’t respond at first, staring at the floor and seemingly not even hearing what you were saying. He was somewhere deep in thought, not even acknowledging your presence next to him.

It worried you, the way he was staring off into space, a lost look in his eyes telling you more about his problem than he needed.

“They’re replacing me with Hamilton” you would have missed it if you hadn’t been so close to him on the bed.

At first, you thought you hadn’t heard him right. Replacing him with Lewis? Ferrari? That was not possible. Contract negotiations, to be fair, had not been going as well as you guys would have liked, but Carlos had been making progress about his contract for next season.

He had been almost confident about re-signing for another 2 years, minimum.

And yet, now everything seemed like it was for nothing. The call he had just received made his entire world crash down on top of his head, making him feel like he was drowning and there was no way out, your voice calling out to him somewhere far away, out of reach.

“Carlos, baby, I need you to talk to me” you spoke to him softly, trying to coax him out of the state he had been in for the past maybe 10 minutes.

Time seemed to stand still for Carlos, but this time, he heard you. He slowly started blinking, his surroundings coming into clear view once again. The first thing he focused on was the tight hold you had on his hand, the way your soft skin contrasted his rough ones.

Your touch, ever so gentle, lulling him back to reality.

“How could they do this to me? After everything I’ve done for this team, how can they replace me like that?” he questioned, not even knowing if he wanted an answer to his questions.

He was confused, hurt, disappointed, surprised. He didn’t know which of these feelings was more intense.

Your heart broke upon hearing the broken tone in his voice. You couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying, how it was possible that the team just stabbed him in the back like that, completely blindsiding him when they had just started figuring out the renewal of his contract.

“What am I supposed to do now?” his voice brought you back to reality, feeling him squeeze your hand tighter in his.

“I don’t know right now, but we will figure it out, like we always do. Together” you said, turning his face so he could look at you.

The moment he saw the determined look in your eyes, he slowly felt himself calming down a little. Of course, things were far from being solved, but he knew that he would figure it out with you by his side.

A couple of weeks passed since the news broke out that Ferrari would be replacing Carlos with Lewis from 2025, and the atmosphere was slowly starting to get back to normal.

Well, a certain type of normal.

After you let his entire family know about his future at Ferrari now being out of the question, Carlos Sr. had been managing the situation alongside Carlos. That involved many talks about his plans for the future, dozens of calls from team principals regarding possible contracts.

Especially after the Australian Grand Prix, almost every single team principal came calling at Carlos’ door, offering him a contract.

Your fiancé was overwhelmed, for lack of a better word. He seemed to be handling the situation fine from the perspective of someone who didn’t spend every day with him. But from your point of view? He was freaking out on the inside.

A lot of teams have approached him with both good and bad offers, some even with amazing offers any driver would take immediately.

But then why was it so hard for Carlos to settle on a team?

“Amor” you called out to him one night, seeing him hunched over some contracts in his office.

He looked up at you, tired eyes sparkling once landing on you. Your heart broke when you noticed the ever growing bags under his eyes, his forehead lined with creases. He wasn’t your Carlos, he wasn’t the happy and caring man you have come to love over the years.

You missed seeing him smile, seeing him let go of everything during his days off and just enjoying the time he would spend with his family. It seemed like your life nowadays was only filled with contracts and dozens of calls a day.

It was taking a huge toll on Carlos, and you were determined to help him out.

“What are you doing up? What time is it?” Carlos asked, confusedly looking for his phone, his eyes widening once he saw the time.

He had been huddled in his office for almost 4 hours, he even lost track of time.

“I can’t sleep without you, you know that” you explained, walking over to him and rounding the table, taking a seat on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck for support.

He sighed heavily, tightening his hold on you and resting his head against the back of his chair.

“I’m sorry, I know I’ve been absent these past few weeks. I’m just really stressed about these contracts and can’t seem to catch a break” he apologized, closing his eyes once he felt your hands waving through his soft hair.

You hummed, focused on doing everything you could to get him to relax, even if for just a couple of minutes.

“I know you’re stressed, and I get it. But you’re overworking yourself, baby. This isn’t healthy for you, you’re wasting the little time you have at home with us on these contracts and we barely see you anymore. We all miss you, the old you” you said, your tone soft.

Carlos knew you were right, he had truly been neglecting everybody except for his manager, Carlos, whom he had been on the phone with almost constantly.

He had been overworking himself, and he needed to make it up to you. He couldn’t risk losing you because he was so caught up in worrying about his contracts. You were more important than them.

“I just don’t know what to do. I feel like whatever I do, I’ll make a mistake. I don’t know who I’ll be racing with next year for the first time in my career and I don’t know how to handle it properly” he confessed, his thumbs lazily drawing circles on the back of your thigh.

“I know, but you have to take some breaks. You’re exhausted, you’ve barely been sleeping or eating. I need you to let me take care of you” you rested your forehead against his, your palm cupping his cheek.

He nodded, closing his eyes and leaning up to peck your lips.

The feeling of his lips on yours felt like a breath of fresh air after drowning for so long. You hadn’t realized just how much you had missed him, how much you were craving his touch and the feeling of his body against yours.

You pulled away, gasping for air due to the intensity with which Carlos was kissing you.

“I promise I’m going to be better. No contracts starting from tomorrow, not anymore” he promised, making you smile and nod.

You pecked his lips once again before standing up, taking his hand and leading him towards your shared bedroom. You helped him change out of his clothes and got into bed, hugging him close to you as he rested his head against your chest.

He was asleep within a minute, the calm and soft strokes of your fingertips through his hair and down his back lulling him into a much-needed sleep.

You kissed his forehead before you let yourself fall asleep as well, basking in the warmth and comfort of your fiancé.

And, at the end of the day, no matter what the future may hold, you would always have each other.

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whorediaries-09 · 2 days

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Hi babes💓

May I ask for a French!Slytherin!fem X Sirius???

Could be angsty and slowburnish or whatever you'd like really [I'm a sucker for your smut]

I love you xxx

thank you for sending in the request, luv!!

i'm gonna make you my wife;

pairing- sirius black x frenchslytherin!reader warning(s)- banter, fluff, silly teenagers in love, kinda shy reader, alcohol, 18+ content. a/n- also sorry for poorly translated french, i used whatever google gave me hehe.

ps- i didn't write the day old cliche about slytherin reader and sirius in this one because i think i have read it so much, it doesn't inspire me anymore.

little train.

it was the most annoying noise. the way sirius black was sucking on the lollipop vibrated in your eardrums. in the quiet silence of the library, the constant swishing, flicking and sucking was deafeningly annoying.

more over, you didn't understand why he was here, of all places. and why he couldn't understand the meaning of personal boundaries. so you decided to voice your thought.

'black, move your ass away, will you?' sirius looked at you as if he'd noticed you were standing near him, struggling to get the book out which was kept on one of the higher shelves. while he could've easily gotten it out, it was fun to see you struggle, as the shirt that you had carefully tucked into your skirt loosened with every movement. it didn't really help with the fact that your skirt also rid up slightly as you stood on your tiptoes, exposing the skin of your thighs.

'why good morning, love, i see you're thinking about my ass today.'

'trust me, i've got better things to do, black. and don't call me love.' you warned. sirius seemed greatly amused. he moved closer to you, his breathe falling upon your hair. he could easily tower over you.

'then what would you like me to call you? sweetheart? honey? or maybe you'd prefer princess?' he didn't miss the way your lips quirked but you preferred to stay silent. he smiled, apparently satisfied with your reaction. he leaned closer, his finger tucking your hair behind your back. his lips almost brushed with your ear as he whispered, handing you the book you'd been reaching for,

'ou peut-être préféreriez-vous que je vous appelle mon amour.' ('or maybe you'd prefer me to call you my love.')

he didn't miss the way your eyes flicked to his lips. or the way your cheeks reddened at his words. or the way your pupils dilated, if only slightly. grinning, he held a two finger salute, walking away,

'see you at the game tomorrow! can't wait to beat the slytherins!'

'va te faire foutre, black,' ('fuck you, black,') you whispered as he walked away.

it was cold. the air was harsh, biting your skin with every bellow. but as the enthusiastic quidditch fan you were, you had to go. well you'd be lying if you said you were the enthusiastic quidditch fan, you couldn't give more than two shits about it, you solemnly went to support your team.

at least that is what you told yourself.

it was again, a lie.

you wrapped the scarf around your neck closer, hiding yourself further into the soft and knitted wool. through the wind, you watched sirius throw a particularly nasty throw at evan. and try as hard as you might, you couldn't bring yourself to tear your eyes off from his form.

it was quite the show, every time he shouted at somebody else, every time his fingers wrapped around the ball, pulling it closer to his body and throwing it about with the club. you'd be lying too much if you said you didn't find that weirdly attractive.

but what would a few lies do?

you were pulled out your thoughts as you saw sirius approach closer, closer than he was supposed to during a game. he was grinning full ear to ear. you quickly diverted your eyes to the score board.

'enjoying the view, mon amour?' he shouted. you rolled your eyes,

'you wish, black,' he chuckled,

'you know i don't,'

sirius knew what he wanted. and he knew how to get it. so, as he watched you sit down for a game of spin the bottle at the party, he sat strategically directly opposite to you. the rest of his group cheered as he was handed a shot of tequila. you rolled your eyes, as he cheered the air.

'not so cheerful today are we, mon amour?' (my love)

'it's never cheerful with you around, black,'

'you wound me, chérie,' (darling)

'i sure hope i do,' he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. he took the bottle, placing it on the carpet. with a wide grin, he said, overly cheerful,

'lets get this game going shall we?' he spun the bottle. everybody stayed silent, watching as it turned in circles, before slowing down every passing minute and halting to a stop.

it pointed at evan and barty. barty smirked, evan groaned. the rest cheered barty on. he got on all fours, reaching towards evan,

'pick your choice, rosier,' he said. the other boy grumbled something incomprehensible before pulling him close and kissing him. the way he kissed him didn't seem very rivals of them.

'oi! get a fucking room!' james shouted, throwing a chip at them. barty pulled himself off evan's lips.

'i will potter, just not within the spectrums of your knowledge,' the boy blew a raspberry before grabbing the bottle and spinning it. it spun again. you hoped it wouldn't stop at you. you didn't want to have to kiss sirius. and neither did you want to have to drink the tequila.

you didn't have a very good experience with alcohol.

it stopped at james and lily. it was no rumor lily had finally said yes to the boy after years of unnerved dedication to pester her. but james had to change into a matured and good youth of course, before he'd finally gotten lily to fall in love with him. lily leaned over, but james being the over excited fellow he was, pulled her into a frenzy, smacking a hard kiss on her lips.

'james, we don't want to become uncles at this young age, bless us!' remus said, dryly. he seemed thoroughly bored. on second thought, he always appeared bored. it was just him, you supposed, not finding the thrill into these games. he much rather preferred rotting in bed with a book.

'i agree with remus,' peter piped in, taking the bottle. sirius' eyes lingered upon you. he could see the feign worry etched on your face. he thought it was adorable how oblivious you were at hiding your feelings.

he saw the whispers in your eyes.

'spin the fucking bottle.' you said.

and so peter did. when it stopped, so did your heart. well almost. sirius looked at you with the biggest grin you'd ever seen on his face. you huffed.

'pick your poison, babe,' he said. he didn't lean over. it was all part of his strategy.

'you're poison either way.' you said, taking the shot burning down your throat. he grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

je vais faire de toi ma femme. he thought. (i'm gonna make you my wife.)

je vais casser ton vélo. you thought. (i'm gonna smash up your bike.)

you were high. and god forbid you didn't care about sirius' hands around your body. you allowed yourself to relish the feeling. the warmth your heart sunk as his breath fanned over your neck. his hands felt so familiar on your skin, as you'd felt them before.

the music crawled under your skin. he swirled you around, his hand placed on your waist, pressing your chest to his.

'i'm gonna get you one day, miel,' (honey) he said. you chuckled, dancing with unrhythmic steps.

'je vais te dire une chose, miel. je pourrais retourner ce putain de scénario et prendre le dessus, et te laisser comme cette stupide fête. ou je pourrais juste t'aimer jusqu'à la fin.' (i'll tell you one thing, honey. i might flip the fucking script and take the upper hand, and leave you like this dumb party. or i might just love you till the end.)

sirius laughed. it vibrated into your ears. it was a melody, a sweet vibratos of rasps from the depth of his throat. and god forbid it got you feeling things you'd never thought you'd feel.

'et je vais te dire une chose, bébé. je vais faire de toi ma putain de femme.' (and i'll tell you one thing, babe. i'm gonna make you my fucking wife)

you chuckled.

'et je briserai ton putain de vélo.' (and i'm gonna smash your fucking bike)

he dipped you, before swirling you for the last time and leaving you.

'i'll wait, sweetheart.'

you didn't know whether you wanted to flip him off or pull him into the closet. but the whispers in his eyes were so loud, so lewd, it was as if you could hear them echo into your head. why was he sitting with the group to play truth and dare anyway?

worser still, it was a rapid fire if you chose truth.

'lace, satin or leather,' peter asked.

'that's the most most stupid question to ask the fucking sirius black leather! the guy's wearing a leather jacket in front of your eyes!'

'lace,' he said.

'we were not talking about lingerie.' lily commented, bored.

'i am,' he shrugged.

fuck. it was your turn. he grinned. without thinking, you chose truth. and god by the look on his face you knew he'd make it hard.

'tell us about any three kinks you have.' you almost choked on your pumpkin juice. your brain short circuited. kinks? you'd only had sex one time.

'fast, chérie, time is money,'

'uhm, may-maybe mirrors, oral and biting,'

he clearly saw through your lie, but made no further comment.

'i see you can't stand us having a jolly time, black,' your friend commented as sirius sat down with your group. sirius grinned at her.

'if you want to, take away your girlfriend,' she grumbled. you hit her with your book. exactly why sirius black to sit amongst your group of friends, was extremely questionable. if you knew better, sirius black would've rather died than having been spotted at the slytherin table.

'she's not my girlfriend, yet,' he replied.

'and i'm never gonna be your girlfriend!' you snapped. he grinned,

'so we're going straight for husband and wife, mon amour?' you stuttered upon your words. he enjoyed the effect he had on you. he smiled, leaning closer, resting his face on his palm. you rolled your eyes.

'marry, kiss or kill me, ladies?' he asked. your friends groaned, each on of them mumbling a quiet 'kill'. sirius seemed thoroughly amused when you didn't say anything.

'it's just a game but really,' he said, urging you to answer. you smiled, a sly curve of your lips, so unlike you,

'i'm betting on all three, for us.'

this time, sirius black was left speechless.

you were late. running towards slughorn's class wasn't the best option, considering it was down in the dungeon, where the floor tended to be slippery, but it was the second best option considering apparition was not possible within the grounds of hogwarts. not to say, you'd been used to the slippery floors after spending 6 and a half years in the castle.

but just as you were turning on your heel, a few steps away into his class, you were pulled by somebody who's touch seemed eerily familiar. their hand clasped upon your mouth, as they pressed your back towards their front, pulling you into a broom closet-which you didn't even know was there.

inky locks licked your forehead. the warmth of his body pressed upon yours and the ink of the fresh tattoos on his hand instantly gave away who it was.

'i hope you don't mind that i kidnapped you,' he rasped, letting you go once he was sure you wouldn't scream and let the whole school know where you were.

'i in fact do mind, black,' you said, reaching for the handle of the closet. he held your free hand, pulling you back,

'there's slime all over the floor. it's for snivellus. i hope you don't want to get stuck on it.' he said, warning you. you didn't answer, letting go the handle.

'it's too small in here,' you commented. he quirked an eyebrow, smiling wickedly,

'i think its cozy in here,' you rolled your eyes.

'push the reset button, babe, let's become something new,'

'no offence but god how do you talk so much. i think i die a little inside every time you open your stupid mouth. sometimes i just want to wrap my hand around your throat and choke you till you can't speak anymore,'

'that sounds kinky,' his reply took you off guard. 'are we discussing kinks in this closet? i don't think i'll be able to handle myself once i get to know about-'

his voice was muffled when you crashed your lips against his, pulling him down my his red tie. for a minute millisecond, he didn't kiss you back, and you thought you'd fucked it up. but when he smiled and pushed you back on the wall, his hands cradling your cheeks, you knew you lost it. your knees suddenly became very weak and your heart started thumping against your throat.

you could only hope you'd crawl out of this closet even alive. because the way he kissed you, so deep, so passionate, yet so rough had you losing your breathe.

'f-fuck black, i can't breathe,' you gasped, getting away from him. he smiled, slyly.

'had no idea you'd got so much in you, mon amour,' he said, his hands travelling between your thighs. he crawled his fingers upon the skin of your inner thigh, enjoying the way you crumbled bit by bit with every movement. his finger grazed over your underwear, feeling the little wet spot.

'may i?' he asked, his pupils dilated. you sighed, pulling him closer by the collar.

'god all you do is fucking talk, please,' he laughed, deep from the base of the throat.

'and all you do is hate me,' he slipped his fingers into your underwear, rubbing circles on your clit.

'you're so fucking wet,' you hummed, letting him scissor his fingers into your cunt. your walls pulsated at the cold contact of his rings into the warmth of your folds. you shuddered, his free hand undoing the buttons of your shirt.

'i'll mark you in places only i can see,' he whispered, his lips trailing over the expanse of your warm skin of your breasts. with a swish and click of his fingers, gone was your bra. he kissed your breasts gently, enjoying as you heaved hotly within his contact. you didn't think he had the right to be so outrageously good at this.

the last and the only time you'd had sex was not like this. it couldn't have been like this, you had not even orgasmed.

the rumors weren't wrong after all. sirius black knew shit. the way he toyed with you, leaving you shaking and desperate for him, just on his fingers drove you to fucking hell.

'god, you're so hot,' he whispered, pulling out his fingers, leaving you stranded, without the pleasure of climax. you whined. he grinnned.

'come on, tell me what you want,'

'you know what i want,'

'i happen to be a twat. i actually have no idea what you want,' he said, his wrapping his lips around the fingers that had been inside you not even a minute ago. you groaned, tugging at his collar, brushing his lips against yours,

'i need you to fuck me, black.' he grinned, crashing his lips with yours, picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. your fingers nimbly undid his zip, pulling out his cock. you pumped him in your hand before he lifted up your skirt, pushing himself inside of you.

he nudges his forehead with you, as you try to stifle your moans when he thrusts.

'mon Dieu, tu vas me ruiner, black,' (god, you're gonna ruin me, black,') he laughs silently, throwing his head back when your walls pulsate around him.

'je n'ai pas l'intention de le faire, chérie.' (i don't plan to, darling.')

your thighs shake around him, as you pull him closer, as if you want to crawl under his skin. his hand crawls on your torso, as he kisses, bites and licks every bit of bare skin he can find.

'attagirl, taking me so well,'

you groan.

'f-fuck, i'm gonna cum,' you say. he fastens his pace erratically, the tip of his cock hitting spots that made you see stars.

'Ouais? Dis mon nom. crie-le.' (yeah? say my name. scream it.') you groan, rolling your eyes and curling your toes as you feel yourself topple on the edge of insanity.

'f-fuck, black please,' he wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him,

'Non? regarde-moi, crie mon nom.' (no? look at me, scream my name.') and so you do. you crumble completely as the words spill from his mouth, heaving and clashing when you feel your orgasm hit.

'sirius- sirius- fuck!' he grinned, thrusting into you erratically, chasing his own high. you squeezed around him, as he toppled over the edge, rushing thick white hot ropes of cum into you, before pulling out. the sticky mixture flowed down your thighs. he rubbed his fingers onto the skin of your thighs. with his thumb, he parted your lips, placing his wet fingers on your tongue.

'taste,' he demanded. you wrapped your lips around his fingers, licking tasting the both of you on his fingers. and you saw the lust fade from his eyes, as he pecked you sweetly on your lips. and god forbid it drove you crazy.

how could have just leave you shaking and treat you like fragile glass within a few seconds?

'so would you want to go on a date with me sometime?' you smiled, devilishly,

'i'd rather smash up your bike, sirius black,' he grinned back, showing his pearly white teeth.

'and i'll make you my wife.'

**************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

FOLKS THE LAST DIALOGUE IS SARCASTIC BETWEEN THE READER AND SIRIUS!!

****************************************

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

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jq37 · 2 days

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I'm like genuinely interested as someone who thinks a lot about the craft of critique and fandoms the ways in which the current Rat Grinders discourse shows why you can't really apply the same lens you use to critique a pre written story vs an improvised actual play show by a bunch of comedians who are first and foremost concerned with committing to the bit. Like Porter's a great example of this, he went from a nothingburher to secretly evil with a whole lore and backstory!

In the same vein the Rat Grinders probably could have turned out to be not as culpable in all of this had the Bad Kids really tried to bond with them, but instead they focused on other things with the way downtime was structured! And because they did that they could pass the Last Stand, and are safe from Porter's rage thing! Like legitimately I really liked the mechanics of downtime this season, it just also came at the cost of developing the Rat Grinders!

(Though to be entirely fair, the BKs did try to engage with Oisin, Ivy, and Ruben and then Oisin launched the house, Ivy was racist, and Ruben still attacked Wanda so)

I think it's really fascinating from a storytelling/game design perspective! The downside is the Discourse is so tiring

Yeah it's interesting. I covered some of this in other asks so I'm gonna hit on the stuff I haven't yet.

If you're telling a story that is based partially on user input, it's not entirely fair to be like, "This subplot was underdeveloped" if the reason for that was that the players didn't make choices to facilitate that development. When DM's push hard for the players to care about things they're not interested in, they get hit with railroading accusations.

And even outside of the player choices, there are also the rolls. A BIG part of D&D is the randomness of the dice. Even if the players care about something, it doesn't mean they'll get it. I'll mention again that Kristen tried to roll Insight on Buddy before the final fight and got a Nat 1. What is she supposed to do? Roll again until she gets a good read on him? That's not how that works. If the dice aren't cooperating, there's not much you can do. And you can make sure your big story beats don't rely on dice but at the end of the day they *will* shape your story in ways you can't control.

Another key thing about the medium, as you pointed out, is things can change on the fly. The confluence of high rolls and serious interest can change things that were behind the screen canon in an instant. In Burrow's End, Aabria planned for Bennet to have a family but as soon as Tula/Brennan expressed interest in romancing him, she Thanos snapped that family out of existence. I don't know how much Brennan wanted the Rat Grinders to be recruitable but even if he'd planned them all to just be foils and evil and nothing else, I can totally see him flipping one if they'd really wanted to and it would have made for a good story beat.

Anyway, yeah! Interesting stuff to think about. Even though D20 often feels like a TV show, it's important to remember that it's a different beast in many ways.

#i do wonder how much brennan wanted the rat grinders to just be people for them to have fun hating #bc if he wanted kristen to clock s/t in buddy he easily could have given her advantage #or let her use her passive wisdom #there's a roll this season where he let her roll like 4 times for the same thing #and then adaine and fig ALSO got to roll #but this it was like nat 1 moving on #that plus the fact that none of their investigations have turned up anything very sympathetic doesn't really scream 'TRY TO REDEEM THEM'#asks #a-salty-alto #fantasy high #d20 #dimension 20 #and yeahhh that's why I don't engage in discourse #i just answer asks #I pay taxes I can't be arguing w/ ppl online about fictional teenagers

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toriangeli · 2 days

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Re: Daniel's flashback of Armand

I know our minds jumped to the "Armand is Alice" theory. At least, mine did. But that explains nothing about why Daniel thinks of that specific memory. It seems like such a non-sequitur, him remembering a story about selling his dad's dirty magazines in middle school. What's also weird is Armand telling him about it.

We know the original interview was traumatic for Daniel, so I have two theories:

Armand is trying to calm Daniel down from some kind of panic by using grounding techniques. This would be weird because grounding techniques are usually a lot more physical, involving the senses to bring one back to the present reality. Why this would be relevant to his proposal memories, I'm not sure.

Armand has Daniel in a state of hypnosis and is implanting a memory. Why is he implanting a memory about selling dirty magazines? No clue. It doesn't seem like it serves a purpose--unless it's part of a larger narrative.

My usual problem with the "Armand is lying about everything" assumption is that Armand and vampires in general in the books don't do that much lying. Like, they'll do these short-term deceptions (see the second half of Blood Communion), but big ongoing lies are kind of a shit idea when you're immortal because you have to keep up with the lie forever. Armand does lie to Louis about Lestat being dead, and to Lestat about Louis being dead, but other than that, he doesn't do a lot of deliberate misrepresentation of the facts. Self-delusions, denial, hiding shit, but not straight-up lies. This same issue applies to the idea that Armand has been creating false memories for people willy-nilly. Which, I don't think I've seen anyone claim he is doing it willy-nilly, but one can get the impression scrolling through Tumblr seeing various people point to various scenes as being made up by Armand that everyone all the time thinks everything that doesn't make sense to them is Armand dicking with memories again.

However, in this case, Louis and Armand were never supposed to see Daniel again. They can't just rewrite his entire life, obviously, because too many people have met/know Daniel and would be like, "Dude, that so did not happen, what is wrong with you?" but if for some reason they made some big mistake during the interview and needed to fix it, they could impart some kind of narrative that couldn't be disputed or verified by anyone who knows him.

Armand also delivers the "she wanted to say yes" speech with a similar tone, but there's a warmth to it. He doesn't seem particularly emotional, although he's also not the most naturally emotive person. But with how good Assad is at subtle acting, I feel like if Armand was actually talking about himself, there would be some kind of hint to it. Instead, it just seems like Armand feels badly for Daniel (who, let's be fair, was being pretty horrible to Louis) and is trying to comfort him. Still a Devil's Minion hint either way. Armand, at least in the books, doesn't give a shit about randos he has no attachment to getting their feelings hurt. If he wants to comfort Daniel, it's because he's gotten attached.

It's in the flashback that Armand looks emotional. And I want to know why.

But yeah, I think that could be why Daniel flashed back to that weird moment. This prodding about Alice is making him remember some fuckery.

That being said, we still don't have much evidence that this is even a power that exists for these vampires. Maybe Fiction Hypnosis could do it, but idk. We'll see.

#armand #daniel molloy #louis de pointe du lac #iwtv #iwtv amc #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #iwtv s2 #iwtv spoilers

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bloodyshadow1 · 2 days

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normally when people say x did nothing wrong they're talking about someone who did a lot of bad things, but they forgive them because they're their favorite. The thing is with Mary Ann is that she really hasn't done anything wrong that we know of. I'm sure she's an accomplice and part of the crimes the Rat Grinders, Porter, and Jace are a part of, but we don't know anything for a fact.

The worst thing she did was tackle gorgug really hard during tryouts, but that is what you're supposed to do in blood rush so you can't blame her for that. She really hasn't done anything wrong compared to her teammates. Even when the bad kids raid the Rat Grinders house, they don't find anything on Mary Ann, unless I'm forgetting something, other than her subclass.

Like there were plans for some of them, like Oisin researching how to take over another person's summons to steal the cloudrider engine, Ruben playing at Frosty Fair so they could corrupt the ground of the Thistlespring tree for their plans for Elmville. There were other things that they found, but nothing for Mary Ann.

Even in hostility or being dicks, Mary Ann hasn't done anything to the bad kids. Ivy was a bitch and racist towards Mazey and probably helped Oisin steal the engine, Buddy was condescending to Kristen and her god while vandalizing her locker. But that is kind of the worst thing they did to the Bad Kids pre-Ragenarock personally. But Mary Ann was just there, I mean she asked if Gorgug had mango soda, something she seems to like since she got one herself, but that's it. And Gorgug called her a freak for it.

Like if you map out the badness levels of the Rat Grinders, Kipperlily and Oisin are at the top since they have literally been a huge part of Jace and Porter's plan and actively tried to kill the Bad Kids. I'd say Ruben is alone on his own tier because he was doing stuff like corrupting the ground at Frosty Fair, but didn't actively try to harm anyone that we know of. Buddy and Ivy are the next tier and they're kind of just dicks. and finally Mary Ann who also has her own Tier because she hasn't done anything bad to the Bad Kids or other people that we've seen just yet.

Even in the final battle she hasn't hurt anyone. She hasn't had the ability to because of the slow, but she still hasn't hurt anyone or even tried. Now that she's not slowed and Fig burned her strawberry she's invested in the fight, but before that she really did nothing wrong that we know of. Now she won't be fighting though for the end of the world or to turn Porter into a god, she's fighting because she's pissed her strawberry got burnt so I can't even blame her.

Maybe we will find out in the final episode that she really is the biggest monster of the group, even worse than Jace and Porter. Maybe we find out that they keep her calm because she will slaughter everyone around her if they didn't. But for now we can sincerely say that Mary Ann Skuttle has done nothing wrong except be an accomplice.

#fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #mary ann skuttle #the bad kids #the rat grinders

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jrow · 2 days

Text

May Prompts (20)

Day 19 here. Start at the beginning here.

Do Over

“Perhaps you need a …. I believe the colloquial term is do over.”

He pulls the mobile away from his ear. “Please don’t try to talk like a normal person ever again,” he says forcefully into the receiver. He returns the mobile to his ear and says, more quietly. “It’s off-putting.”

His brother sighs. “Yes that was unpleasant for me too. But the advice stands, brother mine. This isn’t some grand mystery for you to solve.”

“Mycroft, I assure you I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Your guilt is getting tedious, Sherlock. And you are far more transparent than you think. You obviously omitted some information in your recounting about the night John fell. me. It’s surely trivial but it’s bothering you so just tell John.”

He says nothing, unsure of how to respond. He hates when Mycroft is right. He walks back down the hall to John’s room and looks in the window. John is sleeping. He looks so peaceful. “I don’t want John to be mad at me,” he says, unsure of why he feels the need to be honest with his brother of all people.

He can hear Mycroft’s eye roll. “That seems unlikely, under the circumstances. And even if it were a probable outcome, Sherlock, delay is hardly an effective tactic. John will remember whatever it is you aren’t telling him.” A pause. “Dr. Watson has always been much more … let’s say hurt … by subterfuge than anything else. A lie by omission is still a lie.”

“He might not remember.”

“We both know that is unlikely. And, in terms of his recovery, not what you want.”

Arg! Why does it brother have to be right?

… And why is the constable guarding John’s room intently watching Sherlock’s half of this conversation? The man’s recently acquired (and atrocious) bleach blonde hair certainly shows a clear lack of judgment.

“Don’t you have something better to do? Your job perhaps,” he snaps at the constable before turning his back on him. It’s not entirely fair because the man’s job is, basically, just to stand there as it seems the constant presence of police has been enough to deter any further intruders. That and the rather Orwellian number of highly visible CCTV cameras that Mycroft had installed.

He hears Mycroft sigh on the other end of the line. “Go talk to John, Sherlock, and put us all out of our misery.” A pause. “But first, put him on. I need to speak with him.”

“John’s sleeping,” he snaps, “and I won’t be waking him to speak to the likes of you. He’s already having enough trouble keeping food down.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Mycroft mutters. “Sod it. I have a message … give him my condolences. I heard his old friend Robert Larkin died. Fentanyl. Terrible thing. I know old Robbie had been planning on visiting but … well he got tied up, I suppose.”

“I’ll pass on the message,” he says, fingers itching to start looking up everything on this Robert Larkin. Mycroft is not all that great at subtlety.

There is silence for a moment before his brother speaks again. “Sherlock, John is safe. Rosie is safe. Let yourself enjoy it.”

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty

#johnlock #wip #may prompts 2024

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writingmeraki · 17 hours

Text

project : get the guy — enha hyung line smau.

project one : this is literally targeted hatred.

synopsis : chaos ensues when you're assigned to do a project with the four supposed "cool kids" of the university and even more chaos when apparently one of them likes you, just that you have no idea who. warnings : cussing, bit of baby slander (?)

word count : 2.4k

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"L/N Y/N."

Confusion flooded you as you thought Jungwon had called you but he wasn't in your class.

Keyword being thought.

You looked up from the bent position you'd previously been in due to texting on your phone and your eyes widened when you finally realized who had called you.

Now, Mr. Jeon was in no way a mean teacher, most of the time how he dealt with students was pretty lenient, so you couldn't help but feel guilty when he caught you doing not-so-fit for college things.

Which was right now.

Clearing your throat, you shoved your phone quickly into the side pocket of your bag firstly to make sure it wasn't what got confiscated.

"Y/N, tell me am I that boring for you to put your head down for almost 15 minutes."

Mr. Jeon looked at you while glaring and you scanned his face wondering how he had the patience to deal with students this early. It would certainly make his life easier if he chose another job but then again who were you to judge his career choices when you didn’t even know what you wanted to be?

Mumbling a small yes under your breath, you stood up and you smiled at him, one where your molars were grinding against each other.

"No…sir of course not! I was just…a bit unwell."

“The health center is always open, if you feel unwell, you can go there.”

If it were any other student, they’d probably be insulted and embarrassingly sit down. But you were not just any student especially nor was he just any professor.

You shrugged and were about to grab your bag, anyway ready to ditch the class. But he glared at you so harshly, that you just sat down quietly, not wanting to push his limits. He might just fail you, Jungwon’s words flashed through your mind.

“Sorry sir. I'll pay attention.”

You said it softly, biting your tongue for any snide remarks because you knew you'd only get in more trouble.

All your professors were great. You even behaved properly and they'd also be polite towards you. You just didn't understand why Mr.Jeon had such a problem with you.

Perhaps it was because you may have accidentally hit his car during that one time you were parking.

Or that one time you bumped into him and all his coffee spilled all over his white shirt.

Or that one time you made him trip when you'd kept your foot out while he was making rounds during a test.

Actually, he may have reasons to not favor you.

“Alright class. As previously mentioned I was rudely interrupted,” He quickly narrowed his eyes at you before he continued,

“You all will be given a project which will account for around 50% of your total grade for this course. This project is something where the process of how you handle it till the very end will also matter and not just the result.”

“And it is a group project.”

Groans could be heard and a few whispers and murmurs going around about taking people in the groups while you silently looked ahead.

This is where you felt a slight sense of regret for not making any sort of friends let alone acquaintances in this course.

It’s not that you were not a social person, you had your fair share of friends and even close friends. It’s just your social energy could only deal with so much and hence you decided to not make even more in a course where you probably would never see them again after the semester ended.

“I hope I don’t get you in my group again.” You heard someone say behind you while groaning and you turned your attention to him.

As cliche as it sounded, you paused a bit, eyes widening at the unrealistically pretty boy.

How did you not notice him before? Like ever?

You’d seen your fair share of attractive people, you were friends with said attractive people, but the guy in front of you was like attractive on another level.

“I deal with you enough in my life, not this time again.”

You turned your gaze to the other person he was speaking to.

You were sure if Niki was here, he'd definitely make fun of the way your eyes widened even more as you felt your jaw slack a little.

Since when did this class have attractive men?

Both of them looked like actual models, you couldn't even comprehend synonyms enough to describe them.

Mr Jeon cleared his throat which made you snap out of your weird daze, glad neither of them noticed you staring like a creep.

“And as much as I know you might hate me for this but the groups are already chosen. By me.”

It seemed the entire class collectively groaned in disappointment while someone like you was sort of happy because for one you weren't even sure who you would have been in a group with.

Although, you somehow hoped you'd get into at least one of the two hot guys. That is if fate was with you.

Mr Jeon smiled gently and continued,

“So what I'll be doing is giving you all a brief on what this project is. Then I'll list down the groups and member names, to which all of your members have to come upfront and take your material. Material which will soon arrive.”

That made most of the students perk up in curiosity including you. The university, despite making most students go into debt paying for the fees, rarely gave out materials without extra payment. It was ridiculous.

“This project is called ‘The Baby Project’ ”

You cannot believe you'll be playing with dolls in university but here you were.

"I suppose the majority of you would have this question, why? Well this course is about human psychology. As most of you would know. What will be observed in these four weeks is how the physical behavior and surroundings would affect the growth of a child in their brain development stage.”

“Another question you may have is why isn't it a set of two people, like parents. But for that, the issue is the number of students is more than what was expected hence you'll be in groups of four and due to odd numbers two or three groups will have five members.”

Of course the one time they provide materials, they don't have enough.

The classroom door was knocked on, to which you assumed a teaching assistant entered with a cart. Full of baby dolls.

It was actually pretty creepy with how realistic they looked.

“Your task is to simply take care of the child. Write reports on its behavior down to what you've been doing to take care of it. By the end, essentially we'll see how well developed your child has become and that would be your grade for the project.”

You were sure this was some sort of hatred towards you. You weren't a fan of children. You didn't hate them but you just mildly disliked them. Let alone toddlers who'd only scream, cry and throw up on you for no reason.

“Now before more of you start dozing off, I'll announce your group number, names and you all come and collect your child. Preferably, discuss a name in class and get it noted down by me.”

“Group one, Lee Soohyung, Kim Wonyooung, Sarah…”

Three more groups passed before it was your turn. Finally.

“Group four, Lee Heeseung, Park Sunghoon,”

You heard a low cheer and groan behind you,

“...Park Jongseong, Sim Jaeyun…”

You heard more cheers and sigh of either disappointment or relief you couldn't quite tell,

“...and what do you know? L/N Y/N.”

You blinked in disbelief. You were paired up with the pretty dudes? Did fate finally open up their chances to you?

“Did we really get that person who Mr.Jeon hates? We're going to fail what the fuck?”

Pause.

Your mini celebration was disrupted as you heard one of them whisper. Whisper about you more specifically.

“Please come and collect your child.”

You stood up, grabbing your bag and hooking it over one shoulder,turning a bit before snapping back at the guy who said that about you.

What a waste of a perfect face.

“You won't fail if you put in the effort.”

His eyes slightly widened when he heard you reply. He didn't know you heard, and felt a bit bad for saying that.

You turned forward, not paying attention to the rest, as you went near the place where the dolls were.

You didn't notice the four moving to stand besides you.

Turning to them, you calmly spoke,

“So we should introduce ourselves first I suppose.”

The first to speak up was the first pretty guy, and his voice matched his face, it was soothing and just…

“Lee Heeseung. Third year music student.”

A senior? Oh, he got even more attractive.

And the small smile he gave off after he spoke definitely did not help with your heart fluttering.

Another guy cleared his throat and it was pretty guy #2.

“Park Sunghoon. Second year psychology student.”

Your eyes widened a tad bit before you pointed out,

“Oh woah, same!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, second year psych.”

You smiled at him in content, glad you found someone who was having the same major.

“Uh, I am Sim Jaeyun but you can just call me Jake. Second year too but major in Physics!”

You really liked the sort of excitement he carried, it showed how he was a bit nervous but it was kind of…cute. And a physics major?! He was probably very intelligent.

In fact all of them were.

“I'm Jay. Park Jongseong. Second year culinary arts student.”

It was the guy who had some beef with you even when you didn't know who he was until now.

Too bad, such a good looking fellow had a weird prejudice issue.

You just nodded in acknowledgement at his introduction, trying your best not to roll your eyes with the way he spoke to you like you were just a bother in his routine. Dismissively and just merely out of convenience.

“Well. Nice to meet you guys, I think you must have figured out my name but yeah I'm Y/N, second year psych.”

Heeseung and Sunghoon nodded as they raised their hands to shake yours. You were a bit taken aback but you gladly shook their hands one by one.

Even Jay’s despite, and you may have squeezed his hand a bit tighter. Just a little for him to perhaps get a message.

“I see you've introduced yourselves.”

A voice spoke up from beside you, to which you internally groaned as you faced him.

Mr Jeon, was a psychologist. He was a teacher so it means he was a master in the subject because after all to be a teacher in anything, you have to be a master in it. He surely knew a fake smile when he saw one.

And you were wearing one right now as if your entire grade depended on it.

“Yes, yes we have.”

He turned towards the rest of your group, briefly smiling at them all and they were the typical college adults, smiling back awkwardly.

“Well, now pick your child and tell me the name, so you all can go as you please.”

“Right, yes, we're just doing that.”

To say the least, picking the child was something you didn't realize was as tasking.

Tasking because it seemed none of you could come to an agreement to choose which one.

Too creepy. Too ugly. Too dull.

“Guys. Come on, it's a fucking toddler. Just. Pick.”

As displeasing as you were to say it, you were glad Jay was able to control them. It seems it was something he did a lot.

Now that that daunting task was done. Another hassle comes. A bigger one.

Picking a name.

“Ethan.”

“No, we are not naming it your English name.”

“You have different names??”

“Bob.”

“I am not naming my child Bob, like what is that, a Bob cut?”

“Bob-bob cuts are hairstyles how is that even—”

“Jerry.”

“Wow, a mouse. You're so smart Y/N,”

“ If you don't shut the fuck up—”

After a whole bunch of disagreements, friendships almost breaking, a lot of seeing things you shouldn't in the first meeting, you finally got a name.

“Jaeyhoon.”

“What like a combo of Sunghoon and mine's name?” Jake asked to which you nodded and also added,

“Yes but Jay is there too, a Y after J-A-E. Fully spelt J-A-E-Y-H-O-O-N.”

“Hey! Where's my name there?” Heeseung asked to which you rolled your eyes at his pout. It was cute though.

“You can put your last name. Lee Jaeyhoon.”

And unexpectedly, Jay spoke up,

“And what about your name?”

“Uh I didn't think about adding mine.”

“How about its middle name? Lee Y/N Jaeyhoon.” Sunghoon said to which you actually didn't mind the sound of it.

Picking up the baby from the cart you raised it, “Welcome to the family Lee Y/N Jaeyhoon.”

It seemed as though it was happy with the name because next thing you know it's giggling to which you got slightly horrified and almost threw it out of your hands.

Luckily, Jay was there near you and was able to catch the child before any damage could be done right from the beginning.

“You should be more careful.”

“Sorry, sorry I didn't expect it…it to laugh.”

“It's not it, it's a he.”

You narrowed your eyes at his demeaning tone, about to retort when Heeseung waved his phone in front of you.

“We're going to be needing your number, so we'll create a group chat where we'll discuss how we go about this whole thing.”

You agreed by nodding and grabbed his phone. Typing in your number, you gave yourself a call so as to have his number.

“Okay. I think we're done for today aren't we? We can discuss what to do ahead after the lunch break?”

You didn't even realize it was almost 12 pm and your stomach grumbled in hunger.

“Righttt, well who's going to take the little human around for now? We can talk about what and how to go about after lunch?”

You asked around to which Sunghoon replied,

“How about we all just sit at the same table? Seeing we'll be talking afterwards anyways.”

Seems fair.

Though I should probably inform Niki, Sun, and Won.

“Sure, let's go then.”

a/n : GUYS ITS UP🙏🙏 FINALLY. also yes this is very much more writing based but it's just for you all to get an idea/brief intro to the characters, further going it'll have less written and more smaus parts! ( I hope) don't worry next chap you won't need to wait 29921 days. also Jay alr having need with u liek 😭😭 anways I'll do my best to upload asap <3 let me know what you think of this!!

taglist ( open ) : @strxwberry-skiess ; @whippedforbeomgyu ; @urszn ; @cha3w0n-hearts ; @cassie6392 ; @nicholasluvbot : @xiaoderrrr ; @eleanorheartschishiya ; @wonunuwoo ; @antonsgirlfriend ; @aygotnobitches ; @dimplewonie ; @hoeinthehouse ; @belovedsthings

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

links : main navigation | enhypen masterlist | info

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echo-goes-mmm · 2 days

Text

Kitty Elliot AU #2

Masterpost

Warnings: past abuse

The catboy ate with gusto, and Ambrose prayed he wouldn’t get sick from eating so much so soon.

He looked filthy, dust and dirt and bruises. His hair looked gray and matted, and from a glance Ambrose could see his underwear was practically hanging off of him.

“Do you have a name?” he asked.

The catboy paused in the middle of drinking, his tongue peeking out before disappearing.

The young man stared at Ambrose, unblinking. His mouth opened and closed silently before shaking his head. He went back to the water.

“My name is Ambrose,” he said. “Is there something I can call you?”

The catboy glanced up and blinked in confusion.

“Uh- I could make something up?” the young man lifted a shoulder in a shrug before resuming eating.

Ambrose’s mind worked, trying to come up with a list of names. Alex, Conner, Jason, Max, Elliot, Felix.

“How about Max?” No response. “Conner?” Nope. “Elliot?”

The catboy looked up, licking a stray drop from his lip. He opened his mouth and closed it again, a faint squeak from the back of his throat.

Hardly a sound, barely a meow, but it would do.

“You like Elliot?” The catboy nodded before going after the bread on the plate.

Ambrose watched Elliot finish eating. The fruit was gone, but Elliot had made a face when he ate it. Clearly not a favorite item, but he probably couldn’t afford to be picky. Ambrose made a mental note not to give him fruit.

Elliot didn’t seem to know what to do with himself now that the food was all gone. He just stared at Ambrose, still crouched on the floor. His hands and feet were under him, as if he thought he might need to pounce or run.

Ambrose rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. Elliot’s eyes followed the movement.

“How about a bath? With some nice, hot water?” he offered. Elliot’s eyes glanced over to the basin and pump in the corner and back to Ambrose.

“Upstairs, I mean,” clarified Ambrose. “I have a better bathroom on my floor.”

Elliot turned and slipped back under the bed. Fair enough.

“Alright,” he said, picking up the dishes. “I’ll let you rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose.”

He washed the dishes and cleaned up before heading upstairs. Ambrose hesitated outside Elliot’s door. It was silent.

Ambrose shook his head, still in disbelief. He trudged up the staircase that led to his room.

What a day.

He lit some incense at the small altar, and told Janus about his day. A habit he never could bring himself to stop, even though it hurt.

Ambrose took a hot shower, scrubbing the day’s work off his body.

He hoped Elliot would stay for a while, or at least until he was strong enough to leave. He could use the company.

Even though he lived in a small town with plenty of people who knew him, he was still lonely.

A friend, a real one, would be welcome.

Ambrose slipped into bed and fell asleep.

___________________

He knocked on Elliot’s door after breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast in hand.

“Good morning,” he said, opening it after no response.

He caught a flash of tail disappearing under the bed. Huh. The sheets had been used; Elliot had slept in the bed, and that was progress.

“It’s just me,” he called out quietly, closing the door behind him. “I have some breakfast for you.”

Elliot’s face poked out from under the bed. Cute.

Ambrose set the plate out, a few feet from the bed. Elliot crawled out again to eat.

He still looked wary, especially with Ambrose standing instead of sitting, but food was apparently more important than fear.

His claws weren’t out, which was a concern. His fingers looked fine, so he wasn’t declawed, but the marks on his body indicated violence.

What if using his claws was beaten out of him?

Ambrose scanned his body, taking in the wounds. There were scars on his back, raised and long. Bruises were everywhere, green and sickly yellow, purple and black. A prominent one in the shape of a boot lined his side.

Ambrose wasn’t wearing shoes yet, and maybe that was why Elliot was comfortable at his feet despite the clear history of being kicked.

Ambrose crouched down, and Elliot flinched. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Have you thought more about having a bath?”

Elliot’s ears and tail twitched.

“I just think it might be nice to have a wash. Don’t you want to be a little cleaner? Maybe get your hair and fur brushed?”

Elliot hesitated before taking another bite.

“You can pick out some clothes to borrow afterwards,” he offered.

Elliot didn’t seem convinced.

Ambrose chewed the inside of his cheek. “I have some cream downstairs. You can have some after we’re done.”

Elliot’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “I promise,” Ambrose said. “You can have a whole mug.” He hoped it wouldn’t hurt his stomach, which was likely, but it was his only bargaining chip.

Elliot wiped his face with the back of his hand, nodding.

“Great. We’ll get it done after you finish eating, okay?”

Elliot went back to his eggs, and Ambrose sighed in relief.

Food, water, a bath, some clothes, he checked off in his head. Pain medication, maybe. Slave for those bruises. And we can get rid of that awful collar.

Elliot cleared his plate in a scant few minutes, looking up at Ambrose expectantly.

“Good,” he said, and he could see the bare hint of a smile on Elliot’s face.

Ambrose let them upstairs, Elliot trailing silently behind him. He began to run the hot water, checking the temperature every few minutes to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

Soon the tub was full, and Ambrose fetched a towel and washcloth for Elliot.

But when he got back to the bathroom, the catboy was gone. Ambrose set the towels aside, pushing down his panic.

“Elliot?” he called. No answer.

Shit.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings

@zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone

@snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut @whumpsoda

@loserwithsyle @bitchaknso @cepheusgalaxy

#hes so cute i cant <3 #once again let me know if you want to be removed from this AU taglist #whump #my writing #slavery whump #ambrose and elliot #Kitty Elliot AU #catboy whumpee #silent whumpee #pet whump

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dronebiscuitbat · 17 hours

Text

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 4)

Uzi was near silent on the way back to her apartment, rubbing a hole into the plastic strap of the bag she was holding. N was equally so, committing to memory the tiny droneling he'd held in his arms, and how serene Uzi had looked while feeding her.

When she got to the door she stopped for a moment, turning to N.

“My Dad's probably home by now, don't mention the nursery stuff to him. He'll probably be all “aww look at my daughter being soft.” And then I'll have to throw up.” Her voice was monotone and guarded. Prepped for talking with her dad, N nodded.

The door opened, revealing Khan milling about the kitchen, making some kind of drink that was radioactive blue. Humming cheerily to himself.

“Hey Dad, I'm back.” Her words immediately had bite, N had to surpress a laugh at how typical that was.

“Hey kiddo! How… was… uh.” His sentence died in his throat as he turned around, eyes falling on N before his own daughter. That somehow was even more typical.

“Hi Mr. Doorman.” N replied, smile a mile wide and politeness leaking through his voice, he hoped he was somewhat changing whatever opinion he had of him.

“Uh… Hello, er N. What brings you here?” Khan awkwardly fumbled his words, eyes flicking from him to his daughter, who looked already completely finished with the conversation.

“He stayed the night dad. You'd know that if you paid any attention to me.” She rolled her eyes, pushing past him to get to her room.

“He what…? In your room!?” N had not been so impolite, so now Khan was in-between them, but turned in the direction of his daughter, looking concerned and angry.

“Yep. In my room.” She deadpanned, turning back to look at him, N could see the parental panic rising in him, so he decided to take action.

“I was overheating this morning, I needed somewhere to stay until the sun went down. Totally unplanned, otherwise I would have asked.” He smiled again at Khan, trying to give the man respect.

Khan looked suspicious, still glancing between the two before sighing, shaking his head.

“Uzi, I really would like to know when you have a friend over. Especially a boy.” N felt himself stiffen, although that was super fair, he wasn't sure he'd be entirely okay with that either if he had a daughter.

Why did he think of Tera?

“I'm sorry Mr. Doorman, it really was an emergency.” He explained. Ignoring Uzi's attempts to blow off her dad. “And if it makes you feel better I would never hurt your daughter, she's my best friend.” He added, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Uzi fluster.

She was always so shy about being vulnerable.

“I-I It does… actually. I'll admit I don't know a lot about you N. How… do you feel about my daughter?” Khans question wasn't accusatory, which was a great sign in N's book. And even better, this question was easy!

“She's awesome!” He replied simply, not knowing how better to explain how dear she was to him.

“N!” She hissed, crossing her arms and looking away embarrassed.

“What? You are!” He replied, turning back to Khan who looked deliberative.

“Thats not exactly… ah well, I suppose that is an answer.” Khan then seemed as if he was reassured, if only a little, and turned to N again, smiling even if it was wary.

“Then maybe we should sit down and talk sometime. If my daughter has friends, I aught to get to know them.” N beamed, this was what he'd wanted! If Khan liked him, maybe he could hang around Uzi more!

“I wouldn’t mind that, Mr. Doorman. “

“N, come on, I wanna get this stuff sat down!” Uzi called his attention, and they both disappeared behind Uzi's bedroom door, leaving Khan as he started. Alone.

Was he really okay with this? Letting a murder drone into his home to “hang out” with his daughter? He was conflicted, on one hand, he was happy his daughter had actually made a friend, he was concerned that she'd end up being alone one day. On the other, N was a disassembly drone, He'd killed so many worker drones, so many of his friends, and was part if the squad that took Nori from him.

He sighed, he would have to sit down with the boy after all, if only quell some of these thoughts.

“Ugh… Dad is so nosy!” Uzi cried out, throwing herself into her chair and the bag into her fridge, spinning the chair around in irritation.

“He's just worried about you. I'm not exactly the safest thing around.” N pointed out, still standing just inside the door, gesturing to himself with his hands.

“He left me for dead, he doesn't get to be worried. And also you are! I always feel safe with you.” At the end if that sentence, she blushed, spinning her chair sway from him so he couldn't see. She hadn't intended that to be anything but internal.

“Aww, Uzi.” He grinned, knowing she would be embarrassed at herself for saying that. But more than that, he felt warm, knowing that he made Uzi of all drones feel safe. Even though she could probably easily kick his ass, was a very nice feeling.

“Bite me, your sappiness is rubbing of on me.” She mumbled, before spinning back around in her chair. Still looking upset.

“My dad…he left me to die the day we met. He was fully willing to let you do whatever you wanted to me.” She said, her voice small.

“But now that we're friends, he thinks he can boss you around?! He's lucky you didn't eat me like you were supposed to! He should be groveling at your feet! Not treating you like some… teenage boy trying to get in my pants!” She yelled, stamping her foot, for a moment the solver symbol appeared in her eye, not that she noticed.

“We don't have-”

“Figure of speech.” She clarified before giggling “And we're both adults, if you wanna completely tear it down.”

They both laughed, N looking around for somewhere to sit before deciding the floor worked just fine. He plopped down, sitting cross legged with his tail in his lap.

“Almost adults, I'm just 19.” He said, startling her a little. Huh.

“Wait really? I thought you were older?”

“Nah, well I mean. Yes? Uh, Tessa, the girl who rebuilt me, found me in a junkyard. So I guess I'd have to been around awhile? But I don't remember what my life was like before that.”

“And that was 19 years ago so… uh.”

Oh wow, he could have lived an entire life before we was rebuilt. Did that count? Was he like 60 or something? Ew… that would make his and Uzi's friendship kinda weird.

“I mean… the version of you in your memories looked pretty young, older drones tend to be boxier, my guess is that you had some sort of defect. Like V and her vison.” Uzi said, making him feel better, he didn't feel 60 either, 19 felt right. He was completely reset when Tessa rebuilt him, so it had to be.

“Right, and J with her uh… aggressiveness.” He replied, he had quite a bit more to say about her, but that would be impolite.

“I mean, I'm only 18, and you had the same body type as Thad, who's the same age as me. 19 is probably right. Was there anything you struggled with when coming online?” She asked, cocking her head to the side, the chair and her hovering over him.

He thought for a moment, before something hit him. Literally, his tail had swung up and had hit him in the face. Uzi supressed a laugh, he found himself blushing, weather at his own screw up or how weirdly pretty her laugh sounded.

“I was clumsy. I am clumsy.”

“That would be it. Can't have an accident prone worker. You were probably decommissioned pretty soon after assembly… damn humans.” Her face fell, although she was still hovering over him, she no longer looked at him. Although he had to admit, she looked really nice from this angle.

Huh, that was a different thought. But he didn't disagree with it, he had thought that way about a lot of drones at prom. Everyone had been so dapper!

Still, the room fell into a comfortable silence, it was dark by now, he had no more reason to stay. But he found himself not wanting to leave. Besides it's not like if he went home V would even talk to him.

The spire had been so lonely lately.

“I'm still thinking about Tera.” Uzi broke the silence, head resting on one of her hands, her eyes glancing over at the door as if her dad could hear through it.

“She's so cute…” N immediately replied, his core immediately beginning to melt at the thought of the baby drone.

“Yeah, but that's not what I was thinking.” She hummed, using her solver to lazily open her fridge and crack open a cannister of oil, putting a straw in it.

“Her parents just, abandoned her, and they didn't even have the decency to name her!” Her frustration was clear, and N for once felt himself share it. Tera was the cutest thing alive, she deserved awesome parents! Not people who would just create her and then dump her.

“I like the name Tera though.” Is all he said, keeping a lid on his frustration for now, besides, Uzi was expressing enough of it for the both of them.

“I do too, not the point. I just… I don't want a baby to feel the way I did that day we met.”

So that's where this conversation was leading to.

Uzi had felt abandoned that day for sure, but she'd felt that way long before that. Khan had absorbed himself in his work when Nori had died, leaving her in her room, alone, so many nights…

“I know someone is going to adopt her. She's a really happy baby. No one can resist that. I just… really hope she won't be effected by it.” Her frown was evident, and she'd completely ceased paying attention to N, instead lost in her thoughts.

If she hadn't been, she might have seen him stand up.

In a second she was lifted bridal style, before being crushed in a massive hug. She squeaked, both at the suddenness of it and at N's arms wrapping tightly around her.

“E-N?! He-”

“I won't abandon you.”

Oh… did that make her core swell, it was heavy and it ached. She nearly wanted to cry, or scream maybe. N had gotten her right in the vulnerable spot, as he often did. She found herself leaning into his hug.

“I-I Know.”

“Sometimes I don't think you do.” He replied, squeezing tighter. She wondered if he ever felt the same, being tossed away like actual garbage, and then turned into something that was the literal antithesis of who he was.

“You know… I won't leave you either right?” She wasn't as good with words as he was and boy did it show, but still she felt his entire body stiffen before his hug somehow got tighter.

“Thank you.” Was his only reply, before he slowly sat he back down on the chair, Uzi looked away, willing her blush to go away before turning back to face him. Half-surprised to see a slight blush dusting his face.

“Do you want to keep visiting her? At least until someone adopts her? That way, neither of you will feel alone.” N suggested, even in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't a wise idea, he was already getting attached, and he knew it would be hard on him when she had new parents.

But he'd deal with that, so long as he didn't have to see Uzi feel like she didn't matter anymore. Or worry about the little droneling feeling that way.

“Yeah… I'd like that.”

#biscuitbites #murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones nuzi #murder drones uzi #nuzi #md n #md nuzi #md uzi #n and uzi #serial designation n #uzi doorman #they have issues #but they have each other #N being clueless #Uzi trying not to swoon every five seconds

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baronessblixen · 2 days

Note

In case your brain decides to cooperate. :DDD

*****

It had not been Scully's day.

There had been no new messages on her answering machine that morning, turning last night's worry into this morning's dread. Scutwork duty dragged. Lunch was as unappealing as the thought of going home only to sleep, wake up, and endure two more days until the weekend.

And still Mulder didn't call.

She'd known. Diana had startled them Monday, passing too close to their desks on her purposed walk to Kersh's office, X-Files folder in hand. Scully'd locked eyes with Mulder and watched him ping pong from her face to the clock for the next forty-five minutes until Diana emerged, victorious, from their superior's office.

It had been-- was-- a legitimate file. Too legitimate, too perfect. Perfectly selected, she suspected; as were Diana's perfectly legitimate reasons why Scully couldn't join the case. Fox, I just wrangled Kersh for almost an hour. He's mad as it is that I managed to grab one of you. If I'd bargained for two, neither of you would be able to go and the Kernwyckles would be robbed of proper justice. Would that be fair? Perfectly rational. Scully hadn't trusted her for a second but couldn't reasonably deny that the case needed her partner's expertise.

To his credit, Mulder had waited until Diana left before discreetly promising to keep her abreast of the details. She'd deflected; but he'd kept his word, checking in at the bullpen's lunchtime, checking in again right before she settled into bed. I'll be in and out, Scully, and back before you know it.

And he hadn't called since.

She knew how he was, of course; his stubborn ways and his single-mindedness when it came to solving a case were some of his most endearing traits. At least they were when she was around and knew what was happening.

It had been more than 12 hours since she’d last heard from him. That in itself wasn’t unusual; last night’s whispered promises that came with a hint of skepticism towards Diana’s motives, however, made Scully’s alarm bells go off.

Something, she figured, was wrong.

Asking Kersh for details about the case Diana had dangled in front of Mulder was fruitless. Was there anyone else Agent Fowley might have confided it? For the first time that day, Scully felt a sense of direction.

She couldn’t find Agent Spender anywhere and when she asked about him, she was told he had called in sick. That wasn’t like the young Agent at all. Scully’s stomach knotted more tightly. Her gut was screaming at her.

“Agent Scully?” Frohike’s voice was caught between a cough and disbelief when he picked up her call. “Did anything happen?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.” She quickly filled him in and listened as Byers and Langly joined the conversation. There was furious typing in the background and grumbling. She distinctly heard one of them mutter the word fuck, which clued her in that something was not right.

“Don’t tell Mulder,” Frohike said, “but we put trackers in his shoes after the Bermuda Triangle disaster.”

“You did what?” She shook her head; there was no time to be outraged. Not when Mulder’s life was possibly on the line.

“Not all of them,” Langly chimed in.

“He’s not moving,” Byers said in a somber voice. “According to the data he hasn’t moved for hours.”

“What does that mean?” Scully heard her voice wobble.

“It could mean any number of things,” Byers said, his voice gentle. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“He was supposed to call me.” She sounded like a jilted wife but she couldn’t care for that either. Right from the moment Diana had shown up with the case, she had known something wasn’t right. It had been in the way she’d snaked around Mulder, luring him into her trap.

“Where is he?” Scully asked. The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. “I need to know where she took him.”

“She?”

“Diana Fowley.”

“What does she have to do with this?” Byers asked.

“She convinced Kersh to let Mulder help her out on a case. They left yesterday. He called last night and he-” Scully closed her eyes against threatening tears. She had known it. Last night, when Mulder called, and he’d joked, and he’d made promises, and her own voice hadn’t been as steady as it should have been, she had kept quiet. What could she have done? Ask him to abandon the case, ditch Diana and come back home? She’d had no right. She had no right to ask his friends to find out about his whereabouts either. But that wasn't stopping her.

“He promised to call me with more details. But he hasn’t called.”

“We’ll send you the coordinates,” Frohike said. “He’s in Raleigh, North Carolina. Do you need us to-”

“I need you on stand-by,” she said, her heart hammering in her chest. She wrote down the coordinates Byers gave her and stared at them. She folded the note and put it in her pocket. No one here at the Hoover building bat an eye when she left early.

She had to go save her partner.

#thank you for sending me the beginning!#i tried i really did #this is all that came out of me :/#xf fanfic

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synthshenanigans · 2 days

Text

I can't help it so I'm going on a mini rant about one singular line from Light because I'm so incredibly normal about it.

The line by Whole "This human you're being" has so much going on with it that means sm to me & I wish was discussed more.

It can mean, to Heart & Mind, that 1. you shouldn't treat the other half as something below a human being. Heart talking about how cold & uncaring Mind is. A madman thats turning whole into something he shouldn't be. Mind saying that Heart is something weaker than a human. A vile creature that should be left out or thrown away. Or how both their views on Soul are either something to control/that has control and not as a being that's a part of themselves/Whole. Not seeing it as a being with its own thoughts & identity [for the first half of Cacophony at least].

Whole stating that they're all just as important & human as the other and they shouldn't view them as something other than that.

But 2. Whole telling them that they should not only view the other as human but themselves as well.

While yes they do insult the other frequently, they also insult themself a fair bit as well. Mind viewing himself as a machine, something thats supposed to be cold & uncaring. Always having to be right about everything and never fail, otherwise he himself is a failure. Heart calling himself weak & vile. Overly emotional about everything; getting too heated in an argument, being too unhappy with life or himself in general to the point where it all seems too much care for and so he flips to becoming apathetic. Thinking those things make him fail at everything and only make things worse.

Or Soul having trouble seeing himself as something that has its own identity. His own Heart & Mind [and in turn his own head] fighting about what they should be. How they should act or deal with things and how they shouldn't. What roles they're all supposed to fit into. All to the point where Soul doesn't know what its supposed to do anymore or how to be anything which leads him to the Tridential Regicide answer.

And 3. Despite everything mentioned before, all three of them [together or apart] are being Human. That despite the Cacophony they're in, how likely it can happen again & loop back over, they'll still be human no matter what. That it just comes with being human. How they shouldn't strive to never have failures or have ups & downs or to be something others want them to be. That what they are already is enough & that they'll get outta Cacophony permanently one day and they can finally stay whole.

I frickin love Light overall but GOD that line kills me everytime I hear it. Especially when connecting heavily to the album and its characters or ideas it just hits hard & is so nice to hear.

Man I just typed 5½ paragraphs over ONE (1) singular line of a song that I've listed to for over a year and I still will never ever be normal about it.

#i fuckin love Light man #i still tear up over that part sometimes #its just......augh i cant #im so normal about this bitches(affectionate)#bro im so tempted to make a 100 page essay over Vol. 1 alone & go over every song #if my adhd allowed me i would #my adhd & autism fight over what i do for multiple hours straight #my own heart & mind/j #chonny jash #moss post #moss rants

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nerdieforpedro · 2 days

Text

Weekend Update 05/19/2024

Three weeks in a row. I should play the lottery, I might hit for some big money!

Nerdie, please. We think it’s fine that you play the lottery, but have you done much this week?

I will have you know, that I worked three 12 hour shifts in a row, one of which I was the charge nurse. Something I’ve never done before and only had a 4 hour class once. The person that was supposed to be training me was not there so I just did trial by fire. I also worked this weekend.

Though the highlight of the week was Friday night!

What? You had a hot date? Good for you!

Huh? This is Nerdie you’re talking about, no. Not at all what happened. I got to see Hozier live in a concert! It was wonderful! I might still be singing all the songs, have played them for my coworkers and that one guy whose room I was in for 30 minutes getting him cleaned up and bed changed should know a fair bit of “Almost (Sweet Music)” and “Something New.” I think I also had a brunch with my family this week somewhere in there.

We have so many questions…did that man even know what you were singing? Is he now a fan? How was brunch? How did you even find out about the concert? Why wasn’t that the first thing you said?

Sometimes you gotta bury the lead. Brunch was with mama Nerdie and two of Nerdie’s brothers. I have three total. I’m the only girl. The concert was magical, I’m trying to figure out something for September but it’s likely sold out. I think I really lucked out last Friday.

Nerdie, do you have anything fanfic related? We’re happy to know you’re doing well. We wonder sometimes, but you know, this is Tumblr.

This week will be a bit different. I did a lot of reading last week but this week, I didn’t read much of anything except beta reading for a couple people. So Nerdie will highlight some series she thinks you should peek at:

Symphony by @maggiemayhemnj (A wonderful series featuring Joel - who is having a moment with his new hair by the way. I did notice, how could one not? Has Joel and a female OFC in post outbreak Jackson.) Fun fact - one of my patients called me symphony so it’s going to be one of my many aliases now.

If Wishes Came True by @schnarfer (A Dieter Bravo trilogy. Our beloved trash panda is many things and has many expressions, some not so great. Can it turn into something worthwhile?)

Headshots by @secretelephanttattoo (Marcus Pike - being the sweet man that he is. The OFC is a photographer. Love blooms. It will give you warm fuzzies and you’ll sniffle. It’s totally fine to do so.)

Bloody Kisses by @perotovar (Shane Morrissey and Tim rockford are the combo I was not aware I needed and now I think about them. The longing, the realization, the understanding, the build up, and the growing pains. Just read it and you’ll get it.)

IRL by @grogusmum (A sweet Javi G fic. You and Javi have been chatting about your shared interest in movies and sparks fly. So much so that you fly to see him in person. How does that go? Read and find out.)

These are five series I’ve read, loved and will read again because I enjoy them. I hope you all do too.

I believe I did post a Dieter one shot for the Dieter Bravo Brain Rot May challenge about aliens.

Also @fhatbhabiee back! 💖💖

I was tagged by people for WIP Wednesday through Saturday so I’ll do something from my not titled Pero x Dragon fic (look - it was a thought I had and it morphed into this but it’s dialogue):

Darkness is beginning to take him as is the cold. Pero cannot feel his limbs nor tell if he’s moving them. “Hmmpf, you care nothing of your life? Just to let it slip away like this. You appeared to be a warrior of some sort. Do all human warriors lay on their belly and wait for their final breath? Such a pity.” This voice, such torture before death to be mocked like this, couldn’t he have died in battle? “I’m already in hell only hearing this voice before I die. Goddammit.” The mercenary laments. “Are all humans fools like this? Why will you not heed my words? I am not trying to reach you for simple vexation.” “Stop with your flowery words then. Say what you actually need. I’m not going to listen to you the entire time before I leave this earth.”

Pero is the type to curse and argue with demons, angels, monsters and Gods if it means he has the last word. I stand by this. Contrary to what this conversation reads like, Pero does not die. His fate could be worse than death, we’ll have to see. 👀

The Peeps who maybe tagged me? @tinytinymenace @connectioneverywhere @magpiepills @604to647 @djarinmuse

@megamindsecretlair and @for-a-longlongtime There are either people I missed or people who didn't tag me. My bad either way. 🤣

I’ve also been toying with which series between my Marcus therapy series and my sweet Javi P series to start posting on Tumblr. I’m not sure which one. Everyone one’s welcome to ask me questions about any of these WIPs, just know I may not stop talking about them like most fic writers.

I think I do dialogue well in my fics, and wacky ideas, but I could use work on world building, smut, descriptions and other things. I think. Who knows, I'm just going to keep wiring and we'll see what happens.

Stay safe and hydrated everyone!

Love Nerdie!

#weekend update #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #joel miller #pero tovar #marcus pike #javier pena narcos #javier gutierrez #tim rockford #shane morrissey

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astrangergivingthestrangewelcome · 2 days

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You know what line's interesting, from May 16, come to think of it?

"The other was fair, as fair as can be, with great wavy masses of golden hair and eyes like pale sapphires. I seemed somehow to know her face, and to know it in connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at the moment how or where"

Like. Am I missing something? Because I don't believe that Jonathan had any near encounters with any of the vampire ladies before this? Is it supposed to be like a Lucy Easter egg? If so it does not super make sense, given Jonathan's lack of proximity to Lucy at any point in the novel. I really wonder if there was some moment where Jonathan came across this vampire lady specifically in a draft version of the novel that wound up getting cut or something? Why should he know her face apart from all the others?

#dracula daily #jonathan harker #dracula

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we-are-inevitable · 2 days

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the sun still sets the same - javid WIP

“Hang on– Wait, okay, wait.”

They’re almost to the silver door before David all but drags Jack back a few feet, nearly making him bump into another person on the sidewalk. Jack turns on his heels to face David, who gently grabs his shoulders and positions him in the mouth of the alleyway between the two buildings- a bar and a dance hall.

“Everything okay, Dave?” Jack asks, righting himself from the shoving. He’s used to being manhandled- his frat brothers believe in the love language of side-punches and dragging people arould by the collar of their shirt- but David is pretty gentle about it, and it catches Jack off guard more than it should. “Change your mind?”

“No, I just… I wanna make sure that you didn’t,” David starts, glancing over his shoulder at the sidewalk. “Change your mind, that is. I know this isn’t really your scene, and I don’t want to force you or anything.”

Jack grins, gaze softening. It’s sweet, really, that David cares like this. He’s right either way: Jack has never been to a gay bar before, let alone a drag show, but David’s birthday is next weekend and Jack can’t go to his party because he has to go to a date party with some Chi-O, so this is the next best thing. A night out together, doing something that David loves.

Jack isn’t sure he gets the appeal yet, though; he knows it’s entertaining, but why David loves men in makeup and skirts, he isn’t sure. But, hey, maybe he’ll be enlightened.

“Dude, you really think I would’a walked all the way here to chicken out at the last minute?” Jack asks, raising a brow and crossing his arms. He sees David’s worry melt away- not completely, but enough- and the grin that takes place on his face makes Jack smile wider. “I’m a big boy, Davey. Ain’t gotta worry about me.”

David breathes out and nods. “Okay, good,” He says, and crosses his arms to mimic Jack. Jack watches him for a moment, the way his biceps flex a little as he moves and the way he cocks his hip, and he wonders for a moment how David isn’t cold just wearing a cut-up sleeveless croptop and a mesh undershirt. “In that case, we need to go over the rules.”

Jack tilts his head. “Rules. What rules?”

“First off, no judging,” David says quickly, nonchalantly holding one finger up. “Not that I think you would, but I’ve dealt with enough dickish straight guys at drag shows to not want to put up with it. Second– you’re here to see the show. I guarantee there will be plenty of straight girls looking for a gay best friend in there, and I know you’re not gay,” David pauses for a beat, “and I’m not trying to police who you flirt with or anything, but I just– I don’t, uh, want you missing out.”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on flirting with anyone anyway. We’re celebratin’ your birthday, man, tonight’s all about you,” Jack says as earnestly as he can. This isn’t how he’d want to spend his Saturday night, but it’s for David. He’d do a lot for David. “Besides, you’re actin’ like I’m not gonna be glued to your side all night. I’m out of my element here.”

“Fair point,” David acknowledges with a tilt of his head. The movement makes the glitter on his eyelids shine in the barely-there ray of neon light from the sign above, and Jack has to admit, David looks pretty good in makeup, for a dude. “Third– please try to have fun, okay? I get that drag is, like, weird, but it’s supposed to be. Frankly, I think it’s better when it’s weird. I don’t want you to be miserable just because you’re doing this for me.”

“I guarantee you, this is gonna be fun, okay? I know it’s gonna be a culture shock. It’s fine, Dave, really,” Jack assures him, then nudges his shoulder with his fist. “Let’s get inside before you freeze to death.”

David’s grin morphs into some sort of amused little smirk, a look that Jack hasn’t seen before, and he drops his arms to his sides. “Oh, that’s cute! You think gay people get cold. You’ve got a lot to learn.”

As if he didn’t just drop an enigma of a sentence, David turns on his heels with surprising dexterity for someone in 4 inch platform boots, and walks out of the alleyway, beckoning for Jack to follow.

And Jack does.

He follows underneath the neon pink lighting of the sign reading Mirage, and he follows in line, and he follows when the bouncer- a larger man in a black tee and leather vest- draws an X on the back of his hand, and waves them inside, and he follows as David leads him into an overwhelming mash of glitter and pop music and people who don’t look like Jack at all.

For the first thirty seconds, it’s a difficult adjustment. After that, after Jack sees the smile on David’s face? After he sees David throw his head back and laugh at Jack’s initial shock, after he sees David start to sway to the music and raise his hands as he leads Jack to the stage area? Jack decides being in this new atmosphere is the easiest thing in the world, if it means he gets to see David smile like this.

#frat boy jack au #i am going feral insaneocrazy over here btw. biting biting biting #the basic premise is that jack and davey make unlikely friends after meeting in a college class #and jack is down BAD but doesnt know it #a story of accepting your queerness and finding who your real family is. a story of change and growth and all forms of love. yea #jack kelly #david jacobs #davey jacobs #newsies #newsies live #livesies #uksies #west endsies #javid #javey #jac writes #newsies fanfiction

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miguel-manbemel · 2 days

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There's one thought that came to me today about Sanders Sides, and specifically the nature of the Sides. So many people have missed one important, crucial point about the Sides. They're not human, and I don't mean that they can shapeshift, appear and disappear and all that stuff. I mean that each of the Sides represents just one limited zone of c!Thomas' psyche, and therefore they're only confined to that zone of Thomas.

What does it mean to judge them as humans? It means many people demand of them the complexity of action humans have, the same capacity to grow and evolve as if they were a fully fledged human, and that, my friends, just cannot happen, because it's not in their nature. I'll try to explain my point. We've seen the Sides learn and grow from different situations they went through in the past, and I say "have we?"

Don't mean they didn't go through the situations, I mean, did they really get a long term growth? In some cases they did, in others, the growth was incomplete or null, because the Sides are only able to grow in their own area of action in Thomas' psyche, and will remain, not oblivious, but, like that student that simply doesn't get how to solve a problem at school, and tries and tries to solve it right, but it just doesn't stick in their head. They will only learn the part of the solution in their area of expertise, and the rest will simply not stick at all.

For instance, Virgil knows if he causes a panic attack, Thomas will suffer and that will help no one, but he just can't help it, it's in his nature to cause panic attacks if the conditions are met. Other example, Roman knows that too much fantasy can be harmful, it can disconnect you from reality and that can break Thomas' heart. He knows, he's been told, but he can't help it. He's literally Thomas' dreams. Same way, Patton cannot escape the morality he was created with during Thomas' growth, Janus can't help making Thomas deceitful, Remus will show his creative thoughts at all cost no matter how it makes Thomas suffer, and Logan will always have problems to put feelings in the equation when trying to find solutions to an issue.

Does that mean that the whole show is a lie and the Sides are hopeless beings that can't learn from their mistakes? Not entirely, because when they face issues, they all face them together as a team, they go through them together and find a global solution that can help Thomas grow.

Then why do they revert back after learning so much about Thomas in the past? As I said, any item the Sides are not capable to learn according to their nature will not fully stick and they'll be prone to repeat problematic attitudes, even if they try not to.

What can be done then? The solution comes from Thomas. The Sides are Thomas and Thomas is all of them, and most important, he knows, or is learning, how to combine the different aspects of himself. In another analogy, the Sides and Thomas are like an orchestra and the orchestra conductor. Each instrument has only access to their partiture and can only play their own sound, even if they know how they're all supposed to sound together, only Thomas has the full information of the song, and only he can tell any of the Sides when to play and when to stand back.

To be fair, Thomas still doesn't have the full partiture ready, he's still writing on the fly, that's why the song is incomplete and both the Sides and Thomas are still struggling, but as the series goes on, the song keeps writing itself, slowly but surely and when it's complete, Thomas will have the full song and will learn how to make their Sides sound perfect in harmony...

Well, most probably, the song will never be fully complete or perfect, but eventually it will reach a grade of completion enough to make Thomas and his Side harmonious enough to make good, melodious songs. That is, eventually, Thomas will know how to be the best of a person he can be, because no one is perfect, but he will learn how to feel good enough, and how to be happy with himself and get as best as he can be.

That means the Sides will learn how each can help the other Sides in the areas they lack expertise so they don't repeat the same mistakes from the past. But they must learn to work together to reach that goal, they can't do it each on their own. When they learn this ultimate lesson, everything will get better for Thomas and the Sides.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides essay #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #character thomas sanders

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