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thebardisabird · 1 year

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Alright Sunday sinners, take this and reflect on your downbadness (I refuse to change). Thank you to my peeps who fueled this fire! Needless to say - this is nsfw as FUCK. The matsus when they’re completely pussydrunk, under the cut:

Osomatsu likes to talk to you while he has you. Whether that means he’s balls deep inside of you or if he’s got a mouthful of your heat he’s always mumbling things like “That feel good, baby? I know it does, I hear you whining” “Ohhhh shit this pussy is so wet for me, isn’t it?” or his personal favorite “C’mon baby, tell Oso whose pussy this is”. He groans like his life depends on it, expletives flying out of his mouth like a second language, and he is so focused on the soaked schlat schlat sounds of your snatch that his eyes snap shut because if he doesn’t he might literally bust all to quick, he’s that lost in how good you feel.

Karamatsu is more in his feelings. When he’s curling his tongue within your walls, you feel it in the way he grips your thighs. Even moreso in the way he pushes your knees to your chest and stuffs his face full of your pussy, the incensed need to taste you taking over him and forcing him to hold you still so he can just enjoy you. He can’t get enough, even saying so himself when he parts from your nether lips for a mere second for air before slinking his wet muscle back in for seconds. When he slides home though? He’s extremely vocal: moans, grunts, pants, whines, you name it. He keeps one eye open so he can watch himself disappear inside your wetness, trying desperately not to let his eyes roll into the back of his head in the process. He’s singing the praises of you - the divinity of your body, how lucky of a man he is to reach the precipice of heaven like this, how much his heart sings for you in a way no one else can hear - he very much falls into a lovey dovey serenade when he’s this close to cumming. Catch him on a sentimental day and he may actually cry mid-sex.

It’s all in the expressions for Choromatsu. His eyes legitimately do roll back, he is so overwhelmed by the feeling of your cunt sucking him the way it does that he’s shaking wherever he’s holding onto you. When he gets like this, you swear you see his pupils take on a heart shaped when you do see them. His mouth open, he’s whining very noisily and his tongue is lolled out, pretty reminiscent of the ahegao if you had to put it to name. If he’s going down on you, his lovesick gaze may accidentally make eye contact with you - those he shuts his eyes quick. While he loves watching you come undone on his tongue, he’s far to shy to ever ask you to look directly at him. Still, that does not stop him from wanting to spend the rest of his day eating you for lunch and dinner.

Ichimatsu is a gripper. He has to have his claws somewhere on your body, holding you still because there’s no escaping him. Especially when he’s got lips gobbling up your wetness, your thighs are spread as much as possible because he needs and wants it no way else - your pussy is life essence right now and he’s a very greedy man. He’s a growler by far, teeth grit, with an occasional “fuck!” or “shit!” slipping out at all the right times. Every once in a while he likes to bite - leaves marks on your neck, shoulders, or your thighs, a testament to how primal he can get when it comes to down to how bad he wants you. The best part? When he’s close to nutting, he whimpers significantly, and he spews a whole jumbled up string of “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou” ‘s before he finishes.

Jyushimatsu - whew, this boy. Another one where his eyes roll back into his head when he’s fucking you. The only difference is when that happens, he’s taking you down with him. He’s a strong man, so if you’re under him, you’re getting pinned that way. If you’re above him? The grip on your hips becomes bruising. Jyushimatsu is very loud, though his moans and groans are incoherent. The only word you’ve ever been able to decipher was “Unghh, ahhh a-amaziiiiing”. If you managed to have him between your legs, that tongue of his is otherworldly, you feel him everywhere on you. His eyes become dark when they’re drunk off your pussy, and he’s the opposite when he loses himself in you - his voice drops in timbre to this rough, almost wolf-like tone.

Todomatsu tries his hardest not to let himself slip when he’s tongue-fucking you, but he just finds it so so difficult because your pussy is just so pretty and the noises you make are so cute and he just has to have more of you. Having hearts swirling in his eyes isn’t uncommon for him, he falls victim to his lust when he’s inside you pretty fast. Todomatsu will tends to pay you compliments in the forms of teasing, often saying things like “Oh? Right there?” or “I didn’t hear you, maybe you should make that noise a little louder, hm?” - but it’s when he gets breathless and mewl-y that you know that the way you squeeze around him is sending him into a downward spiral. His hands will massage your thighs, hips and stomach, pressing sobs of “Oh god” and begging “Please please please” into your skin as he rails you because despite him dicking you down - it’s what between your legs that holds allllll the power over him.

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mendeshoney · 7 months

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hiiii i just want to say thank you for giving us all these stories, like it really makes my day seeing it on my feed. can you please write something about barzy being the readers boyfriend but also bsf so he gets all the tea every time lol

"You are never going to believe what I just found out."

The door closes and locks behind you at the same time that Mat's head whips around, his wireless headset falling from the force of the turn, and his character dies on the screen.

Faintly, you can hear the protests of his teammates through his headphones, and Mat's immediately scrambling, pulling the headset on and rushing out a quick goodbye. He turns off the game and tosses his headset onto the couch beside him, his whole body turning toward you.

"At 'The Debrief?'" Mat asks. If he were a dog, you would swear his ears would be perked all the way up and his tail would be wagging.

You nod, an excited smile on your face as you head to the fridge and grab the already open bottle of champagne, and when Mat sees it, he flies over the back of the couch and scrambles to grab the glasses from the cabinet.

"No fucking way," he says as he moves, just as excited, placing the glasses down on the kitchen counter in front of you.

"Do you want to guess who it involves? Or should I just tell you?" You ask, pouring the champagne in the glass first, and Mat tops it off with the orange juice he grabbed from the fridge.

"Just tell me," Mat insists. "I've been waiting for this since you left."

This had become a tradition between the two of you over the last six months.

Every two weeks, on a Sunday, you and your best friends gather at a bistro or café and catch up on everything going on in the others lives. You'd been friends with them since you were kids, lasting throughout high school and college combined, and now that you're all adults with your own lives, it's the main way to ensure you keep in touch.

Mat had gone to one of them when you first started dating. You forgot that you'd made plans with him on the same Sunday as what you and your friends liked to call "The Debrief," and your friends had been so excited to meet him that they encouraged you to bring him along.

Needless to say, Mat had never had so much fun being involved in gossip in his life.

"You hear things being on the team," he had told you after you'd left that day. "But none of them are that exciting. It's like watching a reality show unfold in real life."

Since then, he'd begged to go with you each time, but you always had to let him down to remind him that "The Debrief" is a closed event, and that he can't always tag along just because. But he'd been so sad about being told he couldn't be involved, you came up with this compromise.

After every day you went to "The Debrief," you'd come home to him and start what he dubbed as "The Mimosa Memo," where you'd summarize what you learned that morning and Mat could still feel like he was involved.

You take a swig of the mimosa, then lean your elbows on the counter and blurt out "Drea's older sister is pregnant."

Mat's mouth drops open, genuine disbelief on his face. "No! Alyssa? Is the dad the married fin tech dude?"

"Yep," you confirm, and Mat groans out loud.

"She's keeping the baby?!" He exclaims, and when you nod, he takes a swig of his own mimosa, shaking his head. "Andrea needs to talk some sense into her."

"Oh, she tried," you admit, recounting your friend's frustrated face. "I don't think I've ever seen Drea so mad before. Lyss even told Drea she was convinced that this would mean he would leave his wife for good."

Mat scoffs. "Yeah, alright."

"That's not even the best part," you insist after taking another sip.

You laugh as Mat's eyeballs bug out again, and he makes a 'hurry up' gesture with his hands. "Spit it out, I'm dying over here!"

"Fin tech bro?" You begin dramatically, feeling excitement when the anticipation is all over Mat's face. "His wife just found out she's pregnant too."

The gasp that leaves Mat's mouth is both vindicating and hilarious, and you can't help but laugh at his reaction. "Does Alyssa know?"

You shake your head. "We just found out at brunch. We Instagram stalked him, found his wife's account, and she posted a picture celebrating the end of her first trimester literally two days after Lyss found out she was pregnant."

Mat shakes his head, completely flabbergasted. He takes another large swig of his mimosa, and sighs, like he's exhausted by the drama that isn't even his. "What did Lyss say when Drea told her?"

You shrug, and Mat stares at you. "Drea said she was going to tell her when she got home."

"Are you kidding me?!" He pouts. "You're telling me I have to wait another two weeks to find out?"

You smirk, hiding behind the rim of your glass. "Guess so."

His nostrils flare, and his shoulders sag. "If Drea texts you before then you have to tell me about it."

You raise a brow at him. Usually he's eager, but not this eager. "Why?"

A slight flush creeps up his cheeks. "No reason."

"Mathew." You deadpan. "What did you do?"

He stares at his glass like it's the most interesting thing the entire world. "I.....may or may not have told a few people a couple of things I learned from 'The Debrief' and 'The Mimosa Memo' and they may or may not also want updates."

You stare at him blankly. "So you told Tito, Tyson, and Ethan."

"And Lianna," he clarifies. "But that's it."

A groan leaves your lips, and you tip back the rest of your mimosa. "See, this is why you're not allowed at 'The Debrief,' you've got loose lips."

"You're the one telling me stuff!"

"I'm allowed to! The rules extend to significant others, but not beyond that!"

Mat frowns. "So if I can't tell the guys about Drea's sister?"

You roll your eyes, pouring more champagne and head straight to your bathroom to run a bubble bath, ignoring Mat's cries of protests as you retreat.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mathew barzal x reader #mat barzal x reader #writing challenge #requests

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ningningsdream · 1 year

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the villain in your story | part twenty nine

word count: 1k

SUNDAY NIGHT

you sighed as you plopped down on your shared bed with jaemin after taking a shower. you spent the whole day admiring the sight bike railing offered you and even ate dinner in a local restaurant. needless to say, you were all pretty exhausted. your temporary roommate was taking a shower as you scrolled through all the pictures you took that day and many of them were just jaemin fooling around while you were bike railing. those you would have loved to post just because they were too funny to not share but somewhere in the back of your mind, jiwoo was still there, lurking over your every action towards her crush. you knew your friendship have had many downs these past few months, especially when jaemin started to work at suhturday but you didn't know if it could survive this time around. though, you knew you owed her nothing, when you catch yourself almost crossing the line with jaemin when you two jokingly flirt, you felt guilty. like it was something you shouldn't be doing, some kind of twisted betrayal. as much as you didn't like her childish side, you didn't want to hurt her. you know how heartbreak felt like and it wasn't something you wished for her.

the door opening snapped you out of your thoughts as jaemin entered the room.

"you're going to bed with wet hair?", you asked raising an eyebrow.

"it's not wet wet, i towel dried it.", jaemin retorted sassily.

"i tOweL dRiEd iT.", you repeated, mocking his tone, "it's still wet. just don't shake your head and spread water everywhere like a dog, please.", the look on jaemin's face changed and he started smiling, eyes full of mischief. in a split second you realized what was going to happen, "no, jaemin, no!"

jaemin started launching at you while shaking his head violently, droplets of water spraying all around the air. you quickly pulled the covers above your head trying to protect yourself but jaemin was persistent. he started tickling your side through the covers as you begged him to stop while laughing. he managed to remove the covers from your face and started rubbing his wet hair on your face. your attempts at stopping him with your hands failed as he grabbed them each time, holding them on each side of you.

"pause! pause! pause! i'll do anything, just stop!", you cried out in despair, out of breath and stomach hurting from laughing so much.

jaemin stopped his intense head shaking, your words having caught his attention. he flicked his hair back with one swift head mouvement and looked back down at you. you were both breathing heavily at different pace but as you continued to stare at each other in your current position, him on top of you, knees on either side on your body, holding your hands down on the mattress on each side of your head, he was basically in a knee push up position, he intertwined your fingers and plopped down onto his elbows, now in a knee plank position, your faces were closer to one another as your breathing pace started matching. you blinked slowly, looking up at him, trying to slow down your heartbeat and breathing.

the door suddenly sprang open, and jaemin quickly rolled onto the side to look at who just burst into your room. there, was standing minjeong, her small frame, messy hair and checkered pajamas, holding a frying pan with a suspicious look in her eyes, "everything good here? we heard some screaming.", her menacing, yet adorable, threatening look was mainly directed towards jaemin.

"we were just joking around.", you answered.

"mmmh...", she looked one last time between the two of you before stepping back and out of your room, closing the door, "everything's alright, they were just fucking!", minjeong screamed for the people upstairs to hear.

"we were not fucking!", jaemin and you screamed at the same time.

you could feel your cheeks flush as you thought back to what just happened. if minjeong didn't interrupt the two of you, who would've know what could've happen and that was exactly what jaemin asked himself.

you lied down, looking at the ceiling, trying to calm your heartbeat when jaemin broke the silence, "did you mean it?"

"mean what?", you asked, turning your head to face him.

"you'd do anything for me to stop."

"well, if you're going to attack me again then yes."

jaemin rolled his eyes at your dramatic answer and then opened his arms. you looked at him, puzzled, "what am i supposed to do? hug you?"

jaemin nodded, "i want to cuddle. i'm affection deprived."

"ba- dude, that's just sad.", you were going to call him 'babe' but quickly corrected yourself midway, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"were you going to call me babe?", eyes suddenly sparkling at the nickname.

of course he noticed.

"no...", you lied, looking everywhere but his eyes.

"you totally were!", jaemin pointed out with more confidence, "call me babe.", he said, in an almost demanding tone.

"it's just a habit i have.", you explained yourself, ignoring his request.

"then call me babe."

"no."

"why?"

"i only do it with my girl friends."

"that's sexist."

"you want me to call you babe too?"

"i'd rather you call me honey."

"in your dreams."

"i sure hope so."

"you're insufferable."

"i know."

you sighed, knowing how persistent jaemin could be, "will you stop if i call you honey this one time?"

"sure."

you took a deep breath and said, "honey?"

"yes?", his voice was sweet as he batted his eyelashes at you playfully, in an exaggerated way.

"shut the fuck up.", you joked with an innocent smile.

"hug me and i will."

you rolled your eyes as you scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso, smiling in the crook of his neck. jaemin reciprocated your actions, wrapping his own arms around your smaller frame. he let out a silent sigh, relaxing in your hug and closing his eyes, fully enjoying your warmth. you fell asleep wondering if any of those actions meant something more to jaemin.

main masterlist | tviys masterlist

pairing: fem!oc x barista!jaemin, fembarista!reader x barista!jaemin

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive, barista!au, sns au

summary: girls' code prevents you from liking the guy your friend likes right?

a/n: post concert depression is real and i still can't believe i saw the dreamies irl

taglist: [@glamourizz @rinrinslovebot @nctzennikki09 @moonjobf @hiqhkey @calssunflower @donghyuckster @vianna99 @kookiedesi @baehaechannie @nshimura @thiccfullsun @dear-dreamie @neobowlingshoez @jjaehmins @liliansun @bythe8 @hyuckrec @dearlyminhyung ]

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hannahmanderr · 9 months

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🎉 PLEASE FAMILY BREAKFAST WHATS THE DATE

🎉- What was the date?

Maddie enlists a few of her friends in the same karate class as her to help her quite literally run into Vlad and Jack's dorm room, tie him up, and drag him out to the car where Jack is waiting. Maddie throws Vlad into the car and the three of them are off

Vlad of course thinks the two of them have finally inhaled too many ectoplasmic fumes bc hello they have just literally kidnapped him and they are both giggling like idiots about it and he would like to be let out of this car right this minute thank you very much

They just keep giggling and tell him they promise he'll like it

After a while, they pull up outside this old building downtown, and Vlad recognizes it immediately.

"Jack. Maddie," he says, with as much patience as he can muster (which, granted, is not a lot), "why the hell have you kidnapped me just to take me to the bar?"

But it's not just any old bar. This is a locally owned sports bar that's been around for as long as Vlad can remember. Sure, they might not have had fancy big screens like they do these days (this was the 80s, after all), but it was still as good a place as any to catch a game and a beer with a few friends. The food is honestly pretty mediocre, nothing to write home about, and it's a little dingier than some other bars, but it does the job.

And the reason why it's not just any old bar is because this is the bar Vlad's father would take him to every Sunday in the fall to watch the Packers game (or at least listen to it, if it wasn't on TV) when he was a boy. Vlad's father would always get whiskey, and Vlad himself would guzzle down Shirley Temples. They'd share a plate of nachos and cheer the Packers on to victory as best they could, and they'd go home happy and Vlad's mother would scold him for drinking so much sugar, but she would always smile at her two boys having fun.

Those were some of the happiest moments of his life up to this point. They'd even kept with the tradition through elementary school, junior high, and into high school. Too bad those happy times ended his sophomore year of high school when his parents got killed in that car crash. Needless to say, he hadn't returned to the bar after that.

Until this night, where Jack and Maddie have kidnapped him. And they just keep smiling at him. Well, more so they seem to be having a silent conversation with one another, until Maddie reaches down to dig something out of her bag, and Jack grins at Vlad.

"I, uh, heard this place was a great bar to catch the Packers game," Jack says shyly. "And I overheard a group of the guys from Organic Chem saying they'd be here to cheer on the Bears."

Maddie interrupts now. "We thought you'd like to help us drown them out," she says with a mischievous grin, waggling the cans of body paint and the garish green and gold paraphernalia.

Of course, Vlad's first instinct is to say "no, absolutely not," but he can't exactly do much except watch as Jack and Maddie deck themselves in head to toe green and gold, then proceed to do the same for him. Finally, once he's all gussied up, they untie him and push him into the bar, loudly.

Things are definitely awkward at first. The Bears fans are looking at them like they want to vaporize them where they stand, and other patrons are simply looking at them like they're crazy. Jack and Maddie couldn't care less what everyone else thinks - they're hooting and hollering and Jack is beginning to get just a bit tipsy (Maddie is the DD) and they're having the time of their life.

Vlad never thought he could return to this place and enjoy himself, but he finally starts to loosen up a bit and remember just how much he loved spending time here somewhere around his second Heineken (or is it his third) and suddenly he's finding himself hooting and hollering right alongside those two, cheering oh so loudly for the Packers and driving the Bears fans so insane they leave the bar. Major success.

The Packers lose by nearly 3 touchdowns that night

The trio doesn't care at all though. At this point, Vlad and Jack are fairly wasted, and Maddie, while not drinking herself, is somewhat deliriously drunk on how much fun they're having together. Really, if any of them could seize a moment in time and immortalize it, it would be this one.

Wait - except that changes once the karaoke system gets rolled out. Then the iconic moment would be Vlad and Jack stumbling up onto the karaoke stage, belting out a Dead or Alive song and then, in their drunkenness, sharing an admittedly sloppy kiss in front of the whole bar, much to Maddie's delight (the only disappointment is that they will most definitely forget it ever happened, on account of how wasted they are).

The three of them leave shortly after that, having been kicked out of the bar by the bouncer.

No matter. They're still very much high on life in all the good ways, so Maddie drives them out to the park, grabs one of the old emergency blankets from her trunk, and drags her two boys out into the grassy lawn to lay down and look up at the stars, Vlad sandwiched between her and Jack.

Jack falls asleep immediately, hugging into Vlad so deeply that his hand is reaching all the way across him and holding onto Maddie too.

Vlad, still very much drunk, marvels at how different it felt to be in that bar again, and Maddie looks at him in surprise as he proceeds to spill the story about the little tradition between him and his father and how his parents got taken from him too early.

She's honestly stunned to hear about this - it's the first she's ever heard of it, really. But then she remembers something:

"Jack's the one who wanted to bring you there to have a good time," she tells him, even though she knows he probably won't remember once he's sobered up. "All he told me was that you mentioned that place once or twice and that you seemed to like it, so that's where he wanted to take you. Where we wanted to take you."

Vlad considers this information before promptly falling asleep as well.

He's the first to wake of the three of them in the morning, and God does his head hurt, and why on earth are they sleeping on a blanket in the middle of the park?

Fragments of memories come crashing back to him, but one thing he definitely remembers is going to that bar last night. And something about telling Jack... something. Maybe that he'd been there before.

Except no, he realizes that unless if Jack somehow remembered the single time he ever mentioned the bar and his connection to it, then it was all just a big coincidence. Nothing special about it, really. Which is kind of a disappointment, for some reason he can't identify.

He doesn't think of it again until a week later, when Jack is asking what he thought of that night (and of course it was wonderful and wild and freeing and he loved to just have the chance to exist with the two people closest to him), and he realizes that yes, somehow Jack did remember that single time the backstory had been even partially explained to him. It had only been in passing, he didn't even know if he'd ever mentioned the name, but somehow, Jack remembered and wanted to take him there - no, though Jack may have remembered, both of them wanted to take him there - and make new, happy memories there with him.

It's only the first of many spontaneous excursions between the three of them. Jack and Maddie quickly learn that Vlad secretly enjoys being "kidnapped" away to hang out with them, especially if they have a way that actually involves him in the hangout and doesn't leave him as a third wheel.

It isn't until the seventh or eighth excursion that Maddie has finally had enough and explains that duh, there's a reason the two of them keep taking him out like this! Was he really that clueless? (the answer is yes, yes he was)

Anyway Tumblr is yelling at me about character limit but yeah, that's a little bit how it goes hehe

#danny phantom #ask hannah #ask game #long post #jack fenton #maddie fenton #vlad masters #family breakfast #dooshek #YOU ASKED #thanks for the ask!!

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eggymf-archived · 1 year

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of paper planes and wildflowers; 05

ft. ominis gaunt with f!reader (series)

chapter warnings: mildly grotesque jinx effects, icky men, stalking, not edited, not proofread

chapter summary: you didn’t know which was the worst thing that happened within the same week: constantly being targeted by an insufferable 7th year, randomly getting assigned in tutoring a classmate you dislike, or the fact that your heart might’ve raced when a certain blonde-haired slytherin pulled a rather uncharacteristic stunt to get a creep off your back.

word count: almost 4.6k

a/n: this is a bit of a filler in a way to set the events for pt. 6 of this fic. also, my updates will most likely be slowing down due to my work load irl, but i’ll try to dish out at least one chapter every week or so. cheers! :)

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

“Oi, stop right there!” an annoying voice belonging to a 7th year prefect called out from the end of the halls – the last person you ever want to encounter especially without any of your friends by your side.

“Oh no,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you quickly turned to the opposite direction, briskly walking away. You always thought you had the tenacity of a badger especially when it comes to handling difficult situations. Unfortunately, this was one of those days where you specifically wanted to knee someone extremely hard on the crotch for being an insufferable prat.

Robert Bulstrode: 7th year Slytherin Prefect – also known as the Twat of the Century according to you, and Garreth Weasley. Robert Bulstrode was bad news according to many students due to his foul deeds. At first glance, he seems like a dashing young gentleman with perfect manners – the heir of the wealthy pureblooded-family of Bulstrode, tall with toned muscles, pearly white teeth, soft ebony hair, and quite an alluring gaze. Albeit his Adonis-like appearance, he is one of the most disgustingly vile degenerates within the school. Unfortunately, you’ve been his target for around three to four days now, and it was most certainly taking a toll on your sanity.

It all started with the misfortune of you getting caught in the heavy rain while you were out collecting some Ashwinder eggs at the cliffs near the Quidditch pitch. You weren’t wearing your uniform on that day due to it being just another relaxing Sunday: just a simple button-down shirt and a pair of grey trousers. Upon entering the Bell Tower Wing completely soaked to the bone, Bulstrode just so happened to catch a glimpse of your wet clothes clinging onto your figure. He has been lecherously staring and stalking you eversince.

Garreth did offer to be your chaperone and has been doing it so for the past few days. However, your best friend had been forced to do some extra assignments by Professor Weasley this particular morning, hence his absence. Needless to say, the 7th year prefect often pestered you to no end about going on a “date” with him whenever you weren’t in the safe company of any of your friends.

“Come on. Just one date! I promise I’ll make it worth your while!”

You ignored the male, who was catching up to you while you briskly walked to the Potions Classroom.

“I won’t stop asking until you say yes.”

You felt the last remaining threads of your patience snap, causing your lips to curl into a close-mouthed, insincere smile as you exhaled sharply through your nose.

Upon noticing that the hallways is currently desolated except for you two, you halted. Swiftly, you grabbed your wand and pointed the tip at Robert’s direction with the same mirthless smile on your face, firing two consecutive jinxes. Robert collapsed and landed on the ground with a loud thud, his legs now a jelly-like consistency. Pimples began to pop out of his once unblemished face at an alarming rate, and small tentacles sprouted out of the newly-formed pustules. The 7th year screamed in horror as his hands felt the tendril-like appendages tickling the surface of his palm.

“Obliviate,” you wordlessly casted, cleaning up the scene of your own little crime. You then turned your heel the moment you saw Robert’s eyes roll to the back of his head, slipping into a state of unconsciousness due to his screaming session.

“Why couldn’t more men be like Ves?!” you thought bitterly as you headed to the Potions Classroom in peace. Overtime as more letters were exchanged between you and him, Ves became your bare minimum standard when it comes to men: kind, respectful, considerate, thoughtful, emotionally mature, and clever in his own right. You couldn’t say much for his looks since you haven’t met him yet, but you were certain that there’s this possibility that he’s probably very prince-like in his own way. The sole thought itself made you shamefully swoon deep down.

And Bulstrode? He’s nothing compared to Ves.

Going to the Potions Classroom early wasn’t something that Ominis usually did, and if he was instructed to do so by none other than Professor Sharp himself, it usually spelled out some sort of trouble for the young Gaunt. Ominis never really favored the Potions Master: Sharp was indeed knowledgeable, but he was insanely strict and grumpy most of the time, usually expecting his students to fare well with little to no guidance. This teaching method has proved itself to be a huge disadvantage to Ominis due to his lack of sight, and it was evident with the usually poor grades he got in every practical lesson under Sharp’s tutelage.

“Good morning, Professor Sharp. You wanted to talk about my grades?” Ominis worriedly asked the ex-Auror, who hobbled towards his usual seat at the front of his classroom with his usual gruff expression on his face. He flipped the thick book atop his table, running his finger along the pages to search for the young Gaunt’s grades.

“Ah yes, Mr. Gaunt,” Professor Sharp began, leaning comfortably against the backrest of his chair.

“Based on your record, it seems that you’ve been severely underperforming in your practical activities. While you have a firm grasp on the lessons when it comes to theory, you are aware that your OWLs is a practical test, correct?”

Ominis nodded in response, silently dreading what the middle-aged man was about to say.

“If that’s the case, I hope you understand the severity of the situation regarding your current grades, Mr. Gaunt,” Professor Sharp said grimly, tapping his finger against the wooden surface of the table. “To put it simply, you’re on thin ice. And I’d rather not have any of my students fail in this class.”

“Then perhaps you should actually teach instead of shove the textbook down our throats?” Ominis sarcastically remarked in his thoughts, keeping his poker face intact as Professor Sharp continued.

“In light of your current situation, you are to do extra assignments from me. I will be requiring you to brew several potions from past lessons, and I shall be assigning one of your classmates to aid you with these tasks.”

A rather loud thud on one of the tables echoed throughout the nearly empty classroom, causing Professor Sharp to dart his eyes towards you who had slammed your textbook by accident. Your eyes widened, muttering an apology. The ebony-haired professor narrowed his eyes, humming.

“Ms. (L/N), a word?” he called, causing you to hurriedly skedaddle towards the front of the classroom.

“Yes, sir?”

“Mr. Gaunt here is in dire need of some guidance in the extra assignments that I’ll be assigning to him. As one of the better-performing students in this class, I trust that you’ll be capable of ensuring that he’ll at least get an acceptable grade for his OWLs?” Professor Sharp asked, his tone sounding more like an order than a question. You briefly glanced at Ominis, who had his lips formed into a tight line, and then back to the professor.

“If Gaunt is alright with it, then I’ll do what I can,” you curtly replied. Before Ominis could breathe another word, Professor Sharp had cut him off.

“Very well. I shall give you both the list of assignments after class.”

Ominis frowned, grumbling as he navigated his way to his usual table while you returned to yours with an equally displeased expression etched on your face. Within a few minutes, your classmates began to pour in, occupying the remaining seats of the classroom. Professor Sharp then stood up, signifying the start of class. All of you were required to brew an Invigoration Draught, much to your relief. The draught was fairly easy to concoct despite its brewing time and rather long list of ingredients.

You finished most of the steps fairly easily with little to no obstacles. While you were waiting for your draught to turn into a shade of blue as it cooled down, Garreth had occupied the other vacant burner, concocting another one of his brews to pass the time.

“Hey, do you happen to have some extra billywig stings?” Garreth queried. You handled him a jar containing the said ingredient and he received it gratefully with his usual boyish grin.

Everyone bolted upright the moment the classroom door swung open, the sound of the door slamming against the stone wall echoing throughout the enclosed space. Much to everyone’s surprise, Nurse Blainey scurried into the Potions Classroom and hurried towards Professor Sharp with a rather frantic expression on her face.

“Professor Sharp, do you happen to have any cure for boils within your storage?” the nurse asked in a lowered volume. Garreth nudged you, tilting his head towards the two adults. You leaned slightly closer, attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation slightly together with the red-haired Gryffindor male beside you.

“I believe I’ve given Professor Black the last of the phials, but I can brew one immediately. Is there something the matter?” Professor Sharp asked.

“A student found Robert Bulstrode in one of the corridors with jelly legs and tentacles coming out of his face. We assume somebody had used both the jelly-legs and pimple jinx on the poor boy,” Nurse Blainey explained, causing Sharp to raise an eyebrow in mild amusement and one corner of his mouth to twitch slightly upwards before clearing his throat when the nurse shot him a serious look.

“I’ll brew it immediately,” Professor Sharp grunted. “But it may take a while, so I humbly request for your patience.”

“Please do. The boy has been wailing and complaining all morning in the hospital wing! I’m at my wit’s end!”

Garreth turned to you with wide eyes and a look of realization as Nurse Blainey exited the classroom.

“Did you...?” Garreth trailed off.

“...Did I?” you teasingly feigned innocence, causing the ginger-haired male to audibly snort in an attempt to suppress his laughter. You uncontrollably let out a mild snigger, biting your lower lip in hopes of preventing yourself from laughing out loud while you elbowed Garreth on the rib to make him stop infecting you with his contagious hysterics.

“Y’know, I don’t know which one is funnier,” Garreth snickered while leaning towards your ear. “Bulstrode getting jinxed or Black needing a cure for boils – where’d you reckon he has those? His buttocks?”

You and Garreth wheezed in unison, erupting in coughs and snorts to mask both of your hysterical laughter. The both of you stopped your antics immediately when Professor Sharp walked by your table, prompting you to check your cauldron: the room temperature liquid within it was finally in the shade of blue as described in the textbook. You grabbed a flask and filled it up with the draught before going to Professor Sharp to get your potion graded. He swirled the liquid within the flask, checking for its consistency and popped the cork stopper off, smelling its contents. He gave a nod of approval, scribbling an “O” beside your name in his records.

You went back to the table while Garreth went to have his attempt checked. You pointed your wand towards your cauldron, making the invigoration draught within it disappear. Moments right after, Garreth returned to the table and and proceeded to clean his cauldron up as well before focusing on his ongoing concoction until classes end. As soon as you were done with cleaning up your station, Imelda Reyes walked up to you.

“Hey (L/N). Sharp told me to switch seats with you. Said something about you guiding Gaunt with his potions from now on,” she explained. You nodded, heading over to the table right across the other side of the room despite your reluctance.

Ominis dejectedly sighed at his cauldron while he sat on his stool, just waiting for the class to end. However, he immediately sat upright when he heard someone place their things atop the table. Ominis felt a presence getting nearer, peering at his cauldron.

“Oh, you’re almost done. The color is a bit off, though. I think you need slightly a bit more drops of the infusion of wormwood – perhaps one or two?” you suggested.

“But the book said–”

“The book’s got a lot of wrong measurements actually. Just trust me on this.” you reassured. Ominis scoffed lightly at your signature know-it-all tendency but acquiesces nonetheless. A deafeningly awkward silence loomed over the both of you as you both awaited Ominis’ draught to be done. You peered into his cauldron again, finding that the once pale blue liquid is now vivid blue just like your recent attempt.

“It’s done,” you said, handing Ominis an empty flask. He carefully filled the flask up with the draught, immediately going to Professor Sharp to have his attempt checked. Sharp narrowed his eyes, inspecting the draught carefully.

“Hmm. Decently made,” Professor Sharp hummed, scribbling an “E” beside Ominis’ name in his records for once. Ominis’ eyes widened upon hearing Sharp out of all professors utter those words of approval. Sharp also handed the befuddled young Slytherin two pieces of parchment containing the extra assignments he shall be tasked to do before his OWLs. As he walked back to the table, you looked at him expectantly.

“... Well?” you asked, your lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“Hmm. I suppose you actually do your job pretty well,” Ominis hummed.

“Hmm. Then perhaps you should listen to me from now on,” you smugly retorted in a slightly mimicking fashion, causing the young Gaunt to scoff in return while cleaning his cauldron up.

You were currently in your room at your desk, scribbling on a piece of parchment while the thick book that was levitating beside you flipped to the next page. You were rushing your assignments due in three days – something you would’ve already been finished with it if it weren’t for that blasted stalker of yours. Luckily for you, Madam Scribner was kind enough to let you borrow extra books that you could study within the comfort of your own dorm room.

The sound of large flapping wings entered the room: Russ had flown in through the open window, carrying two neatly stacked boxes tied together with a thick piece of twine with his talons. He dropped the package right at your bedside before flying up towards his perch for his usual fill of owl treats. Bits of pellets materialized in front of the owl, who hooted in appreciation. Placing your quill neatly back into the ink pot, you untied the package and opened the smaller box atop the larger one, finding an envelope placed neatly on a packet of assorted cookies. Prying the flap open, you began to read the letter’s contents.

Dearest Lucie, I apologize for sending a letter out of the blue, but I simply couldn’t help but to feel rather worried of your wellbeing. I noticed that your reply to my previous letter I sent last Saturday hasn’t arrived. Is everything alright? I didn’t upset you or anything, did I? For good measure, I attached a gift alongside this letter. Hopefully it’s not too much for your liking. Worried and missing you, Ves

Placing the larger box on your lap, you carefully lifted the cover. You were greeted by a neat array of dark pink and crimson red carnations, its sweet fragrance lingering lightly in the air. Your once moody expression was now non-existent, fully replaced with a huge grin and a shade of light pink dusting your cheeks as you conjured a fresh piece of parchment and grabbing your quill, writing your reply while Russ was still in the room resting atop his perch.

“Pink and red carnations, huh...” you mused out loud, a knowing giggle bubbling from your lips.

The sound of light footsteps on hardwood floor alongside the faint scribbling of quill tips against parchment and the gentle crackling of the nearby fireplace filled the quiet air within the library. The majority of the students present within the place were mostly busy with their own assignments and readings. Ominis was sitting in one of the long tables, rather distracted from his task at hand. He was supposed to be doing his essay on the properties of alihotsy leaves due in a few days, yet he was spacing out while staring at his pile of books.

Giving to his urge of momentary procrastination, he let out a sigh and slipped out an envelope that had he had sandwiched between one of his textbooks. Upon opening the letter, a pleasant scent combination of freesias and peonies greeted Ominis’ nostrils, causing a faint smile to grace his usually vacant expression.

Dearest Ves, I apologize for my slow reply. To be honest, I haven’t been able to go to the owlery as frequently and freely as I can without at least a friend tagging along. This week has been absolutely dreadful so far and I’ve been traversing through the hallways in fear especially when I’m alone. I’m being targeted by a 7th year who can’t seem to know what “no” is – can you imagine someone being that daft? He had more than a decade to have a full grasp on that basic concept yet he acts like an animal in heat at the mere sight of a young lady in wet clothes? Thinking about it makes me absolutely livid. I can’t believe I’m being held back from going out and about even within the school grounds because of some prefect who can’t keep his behavior and shameful urges in check. Regardless, I would like to thank you for your wonderful gifts. They truly did make my terrible week a lot better, and I would love to repay you for your thoughtfulness. Alas, all I can offer you for now is one of my pressed roses since my hands are tied for now. The scent of the flower has already faded a long time ago. But not to worry, I shall not give you a scentless parchment. I spritzed some of my own perfume while I’m still confined within the school. I promise I’ll send you more flowers once I have my freedom back again. With love, Lucie P.S. You certainly have an interesting choice when it comes to flowers. It’s rather poetic and subtle of you, not that I’m complaining.

The opal-eyed male’s eyebrows furrowed as he tucked the letter back into its envelope, sandwiching it carefully in his transfiguration textbook which rested on top of the short stack of books neatly arranged beside him. He loosely gripped on his self-inking quill, unable to focus on the assignment he was doing while he waited for your arrival. Out of worry for Lucie’s wellbeing, he racked through his brain on who the stalker might possibly be.

7th year prefect? Skirt-chasing? Has an ego so fragile he can’t handle rejection?

Ominis slowly tapped the tip of his quill on the table surface as he pondered.

Why does that person sound way too much like–

“I know I’m late. I got caught up with something,” a familiar voice grumbled, snapping Ominis out of his train of thought. You sat at the vacant seat beside him, slamming your potions textbook open. The aggressiveness shocked everyone within the same table, to which you paid no mind to since you were absolutely exhausted and stressed out.

“Grumpy today, huh?” Ominis remarked, causing a sigh to escape from your lips.

“Gaunt, I’m tired. Can we just please get this over with?” you irritably retorted, causing the male to put his hands up in defeat while you turned his potions textbook to the same page as yours. Miraculously, Ominis had agreed to let you change some of the measurements within the recipes in his potions textbook that were incorrect to make his potion brewing a lot easier. Minutes passed quickly as you tutored the opal-eyed male while he made the revisions in his textbook.

“So for the Wiggenweld Potion, it’s actually 10 lionfish spines and not 9–”

You were cut off by a distant sound, specifically the obnoxious voice of the person you’ve been desperately avoiding followed by contemptuous laughter from his two cronies. You glanced at the trio of misfits, clicking your tongue in annoyance. You hadn’t expected Robert Bulstrode to recover that quickly from your mild onslaught of jinxes.

“I should’ve verbally jinxed him instead,” you hissed under your breath lowering your head slightly to avoid getting seen by the 7th year.

“Jinxed who?” Ominis asked while raising an eyebrow, his sharp hearing catching what you had just said. Inhaling a lungful of air to calm your overthinking thoughts, you decided to confess your deeds in hopes of obtaining the possibility of receiving the alabaster-skinned male’s assistance once again.

“Your house’s bloody foul git of a prefect, of course!” you contemptuously scoffed. Ominis’ mouth hung slightly ajar, before uncharacteristically morphing into a rather excited grin.

“You jinxed Bulstrode?”

“... Did I?” you sarcastically retorted, poorly feigning your innocence. The opal-eyed male cleared his throat, masking the bubbling snicker that threatened to escape his lips.

“Well done,” Ominis praised, causing you to snort in response at the unexpected approval. You quickly cleared your throat, reverting back to your once serious expression. You snuck a look at Bulstrode, who was staring at you intensely. You gasped in mild terror, looking away immediately.

“I take it that you need my assistance once again?” Ominis drawled, his lips curling into a teasing smirk.

“As much as I don’t want it, I believe you do owe me a favor,” you huffed.

“A favor? What favor?”

“Your grades in potions?”

“You were ordered to do this by Sharp, though. It doesn’t count.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help you get at least an A for your OWLs, am I correct?” you bargained, glancing at Ominis. The alabaster-skinned male pondered for a moment before letting out a hum.

“Make it an E.”

“Deal.”

Ominis grabbed your wrist, dragging you into the a random section within the library away from prying eyes. This prompted Robert to get off his seat and follow the both of you, hiding behind several bookcases and watching your every move. You looked at Ominis quizzically as he backed you up against one of the bookcases.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?!” you hissed while narrowing your eyes suspiciously. Ominis leaned towards your ear, placing his hand right beside your head to prevent you from escaping.

“First and foremost, we’re doing this my way. Whatever I say goes until he’s off your back, are we clear?” he muttered while you sighed in defeat.

“Fine. But what does this have to do with anything?” you angrily whispered while Ominis sighed disapprovingly at your hostility.

“I can feel someone staring at us from one of the bookcases nearby. Two o’clock from where you’re facing. Is that him?”

You quickly glanced towards the direction Ominis said, finding a tuft of ebony hair and a pair of raging watchful eyes behind several books. You redirected your gaze towards the opal-eyed male.

“...Yes?”

“Let’s give him a good show, shall we?”

Ominis cupped his hand against your cheek. You were about to protest by pushing him away, but he immediately shushed you.

“Play along. I know what I’m doing,” he breathed out, resting his forehead against yours. He rubbed your cheek gently with his thumb while you instinctively leaned towards the comforting warmth of his palm more, your eyes getting heavier by the second. Your breaths slowed yet deepened as you gazed within Ominis’ misty blue eyes, feeling your heartbeat quicken the longer your stared at it.

“You know, I think you’re enjoying this a little too much,” he whispered softly with a slightly teasing tone, his breath fanning against your lips. “Your heartbeat’s getting rather quick.”

“You’re begging to be hexed right now, aren’t you?” you deadpanned. Ominis scoffed lightly at the hidden bashfulness behind your tone.

“So, is he still there?” he asked, ignoring your empty threat.

Your eyes wandered towards the bookshelf: Robert’s face was turning bright red with rage, seethingly glaring at the both of you.

“... Yes, and he’s angry.”

“Good,” Ominis muttered, inching his lips towards yours. Your eyes slowly closed, feeling yourself lean towards Ominis unconsciously.

SLAM!

The both of you jolted in surprise: Robert Bulstrode had thrown one of the books he had been gripping onto angrily right onto the hardwood floor, storming off the library section out of sheer rage. Keeping to his word, you felt Ominis push himself away from your frame, much to your relief. He leaned back against the nearest bookcase, crossing his arms while smirking as Madam Scribner began to give Robert and his two henchmen a huge earful about handling school properties with better care.

“See? That wasn’t too difficult now, was it?” Ominis chuckled while you were partially still in a daze, confused with what had just occurred.

“... Wait. That’s it?” you bemusedly ask, causing the blonde-haired male to chortle at your reaction.

“What? Were you expecting something more?” Ominis mockingly queried, causing you to glare at him half-heartedly. With arms crossed and cheeks tinged in a shade of bright red, you stomped back to the table where the both of you were studying at while Ominis tailed after you with a smug little smirk plastered on his face.

With Robert Bulstrode out of the library after witnessing the stunt that Ominis had pulled, the rest of your study session with the young Gaunt went surprisingly smooth. After studying for potions, the both of you sat in silence, doing the remainder of your assignments until the library was nearing its closing hours.

Much to your surprise, Ominis even offered to accompany you all the way to the Ravenclaw Tower. Not wanting to cast another disillusionment charm on yourself for the umpteenth time this week, you happily agreed. The walk to the tower, albeit silent, was rather peaceful – the both of you were in deep thought regarding everything that had transpired within the rather chaotic day.

“You didn’t have to escort me back into my common room, you know?” you grumbled, halting at the spiral staircase landing and turning towards the young Gaunt.

“I’m merely sticking to my end of the bargain. Did you really think that Bulstrode would let this slide that easily?”

“I suppose not,” you sighed. “He has been rather persistent for the past week – as thick-headed as a bloody Graphorn.”

“Then I suppose you’re temporarily stuck with me until he’s gone,” Ominis nonchalantly said in a mildly teasing manner, a ghost of a smile worming its way on his face. You scoffed, letting a tired smile form on your lips.

“I’ll see you around, Gaunt. Good night.”

Footsteps against marble echoed lightly throughout the empty stairwell of the Ravenclaw Tower. Ominis leaned back at the nearest wall, his once light-hearted expression instantly morphing into a solemn one as soon as he heard the door to the Ravenclaw Common Room open and slam shut. His mind began to piece the bits of information that he had coincidentally obtained within the day.

Could it be...?

After much contemplation, he sighed in defeat. He brought his wand up, the tip automatically blinking its distinct red light and proceeded to navigate his way to the Slytherin Common Room while desperately trying to blank out his mind from today’s events.

However, much to his dismay, all he could think about was the specific scent of peonies and freesias that lingered in the air whenever he was near you.

< chapter 4: an adventurer’s whims

chapter 6: blurred lines 🔞 >

#ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x f!reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x reader #ominis fluff #ominis x you #ominis x f!reader #ominis gaunt fluff #ominis fic #ominis gaunt fic #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy #ominis

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elysianhades · 2 months

Text

tiny drabble

I've had this just sitting around forever and at this point I don't think I'm going to finish it because I don't know where I was wanting it to go but I wrote too much to just scrap it so here ya go!

If for some reason I get an idea on how I want it to end I'll fix it up :D

Saeran x Reader

What I imagine the start of a weekend would be like.

Weekends were never really a relaxing thing in your house growing up. It was the two days that your parents had the day off from work so it was prime time to catch up on all the chores that had accumulated over the week. Saturday was the inside of the house, vacuuming and scrubbing the floor, dusting all shelves, laundry, cleaning windows, and once a month you’d be forced to help move around the furniture. Sunday was always the day you and your siblings dreaded the most because that was yardwork day- or if the world really wanted to spite you- cleaning the garage as well.

Weekends consisted of waking up at 6:30 and getting a quick snack before working until 3 or 4 in the afternoon. It didn’t matter that the place wasn’t messy and everything you all did was done the week before either, it had to be done again like it hasn’t been cleaned in years and people were coming over. Needless to say, weekends weren’t something you really looked forward to, it was always stressful and after those days of cleaning, it was back to school until the next one. When you got older and got your first couple jobs, you were almost glad that you worked on the weekends because at least then you’re getting paid while being on your feet all day moving back and forth. But like most everything else in your life, Saeran was able to make something you hated into something you looked forward to.

Now on the weekends, it doesn’t matter when you wake up or who wakes up first, you both would stay in bed until the other would wake up and be ready to get up. More often than not it’s Saeran who wakes up first- although the days when you manage to wake up before him are your favorite because you get to see him wake up with his morning hair and sleepy eyes- with you waking up soon after. You both slowly wake up, basking in the other's presence and listening to the birds outside chirp and sing as they start their day.

There is never a rush to get up and start working. Never stress or guilt or dread for staying in bed for just a few more minutes. When you both managed to roll out of bed (which changes on each weekend. There are never enough cuddles) you still take your time walking to the kitchen, planning the day’s agenda and what you both wanted to eat.

“Ah, I forgot I left the bread out last night to make french toast. Does that still sound good to you, lovey?” You say, yawning in your hand as you look at the french bread slices laid out on the table.

“That still sounds delicious, my love. Do you want any help making breakfast?” Saeran smiles, touching the small of your back as he passes you.

“Uhhh not with the food, I got that. Do you want to start boiling water for tea? I’m craving that one oolong drink I made a while ago that you still need to try.” You follow Saeran’s touch, flicking on the overhead light as you both enter the kitchen. He nods before grabbing the blue kettle from its spot in the cabinet.

The sun is still coming up when you glance out the window. No one else is going to wake up for a while -which is perfect- it gives you both time to enjoy each others company without Saeyoung giving you both kissy faces or Yoosung and Zen cringing at how ‘lovey-dovey’ you both are being, not that them being around changes how you both act around each other and you both know the teasing is good natured anyways.

“Do you wanna turn on some music? Or just want to listen to the birds outside?” you ask, looking over your shoulder and gesturing to the speaker with your elbow and walking over to the fridge. There are multiple tiny speakers spread around the house. Some of them are in normal places you know, where you would expect speakers to be, beside the doorway to the kitchen, on the wall beside the window, and one on the dresser in your shared room. The others though… are in questionable places at best. There is a speaker in the shoe/coat closet, in the doorway leading down stairs, under the table in the living room, and even one where you keep the towels?? To be perfectly honest though, the one under the table might be there for prank purposes (Yoosung being the primary target) and because your brother-in-law saw no reason for there not to be a speaker in the places he put them.

“We should listen to music, I’m sure there are songs on your playlist I haven’t heard yet.” Saeran laughs as he turns the stovetop on and puts the water filled kettle on top.

Patting your pockets as you continue to look in the fridge, you pull your phone out of the pants you borrowed- stole- and unlock it with your finger. You glance at the top playlist before connecting it to only the kitchen speaker before pocketing your phone again and pulling out the milk and eggs from the fridge. A familiar tune starts to play as you set the things in your hands on the counter and turn around on your heel to grab two big bowls.

“Why hello there, handsome.” you smile as Saeran stands in front of the cabinet you needed to reach. He smiles as he grabs your hands and guides you over to him.

“Hello angel.” He hums and holds you tightly. You sigh and lean against him just taking in the morning and the feeling of being in his arms. It’s your stomach that brings you out of the moment.

“Not that I don’t enjoy this lovely, but I do need to get the bowl that's behind you.” You smile, rubbing your finger on Saeran’s cheek as you talk.

“Really? The one behind me? Are you sure?” He smiles cheekily, pretending to think for a second.

You knew he stood there on purpose just so he would have the excuse to hold you. Rolling your eyes playfully you nod.

“Yeah, unless you want me to try making the batter on the counter or on a plate, which I would not recommend, that would be a huuuuge mess.” Your nose wrinkles in distaste just thinking about the mess that would make.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” He sighs but still doesn’t move.

“Mhm, a tragedy. Are you gonna scooch?” You lean closer to his lips.

“That depends. I’m pretty comfortable here, my love. I might need a little motivation.” He smirks, dramatically pouting.

Humming slowly you lean in to kiss him, knowing that’s what he was hinting at and what he truly wanted. He eagerly leans in, chucking as he does so. Whenever you two kiss the rest of the world disappears, it’s just you two in the moment. Only the love you two feel for each other. When you pull away- mainly because you need air; you would kiss Saeran’s cute smug little face any day forever if you could- Saeran moves both of you away from the cupboard (you still needed to get into) his cheeks red and eyes happy.

“You know,” you start to say, giving him quick kisses between every few words, “if you wanted a kiss you could have asked. I’m never going to say no.”

“I always want to kiss you, angel. There’s nothing else in the world I would rather do. I love you.” He murmurs against your lips.

“And I love you, with everything I am.”

* * * * *

You crack the eggs into the wide glass bowl, pour a little bit of milk, vanilla, and a lot of cinnamon into the mixture, before starting to whisk it together. Saeran stands behind you, holding your waist and watching with his hand on your shoulder. This is a recipe you haven’t shown him yet, it’s your dad’s recipe and while you can’t make it taste exactly how your dad does you haven gotten close enough with how often you used to make it.

“Do you have a preference between more eggy or more milky?” You ask, tipping your head back.

“How does adding one change when it’s all finished?” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder once more.

“Hmm, actually? I don’t know? I just remember my dad liking it more milky and my mom more eggy. Maybe when it’s more eggy it’s more firm?” you ponder out loud and sprinkle some more cinnamon into the bowl. You feel his chuckle in your ear before he leans back to think.

“Is there a way you prefer it? We could try that one this time and then the other kind next time.” He suggests, watching the tiny cloud of cinnamon disperse.

Now you stop to think before putting two more glugs of milk into the tan mixture. You whisk slower now to see if any of the egg yolks hadn’t been broken up yet. When you don’t see any lumps then you turn to the cookie sheet of bread that’s across one the stovetop and then the skillet.

“Could you check the skillet?” You ask, dropping a few extra drops of vanilla in.

You look over your shoulder when Saeran’s hands leave your waist. He walks over to the pan and holds his hand over it to check its temperature. You take this opportunity to admire him. Even though you both have been awake for a little while, his hair still looks like he just rolled out of bed, it’s sticking up in different directions. His pajama shirt has the top two buttons undone, letting his collarbones show [ most likely because he knows you’re weak to the sight]. You love how confident he looks when he is in his element, it’s a great look on him. He cocks his head to the side and hums in thought.

“I’d say it’s ready, my love.”

The crisp air immediately bites your nose as you step off the back porch, it almost makes you want to sneeze. The brisk breeze blowing causes more red-orange leaves to fall off the trees. The branches are almost all barren, only handfuls of leaves are left, gently swaying in the wind until they too, fall off. The smell of the outside stirs the memories of taking hikes when you were a child, collecting leaves and laminating them to make bookmarks or wall art. It reminds you of the autumn fairs your father used to take you to, the carnival games and the huge farm tractor filled with hay that would take you to the different parts of the farm. The smell reminds you of the annual family photos you guys would take, with the falling leaves surrounding you. Autumn was truly your favorite time of year.

The apple, peach and plum trees are empty, those being the first to be empty, the fruit being used to make cobblers, jam, pies, or flavored butter. The berry bushes are barren and the flower beds are empty (fully weeded and everything) to let the soil rest.

You turn when you hear the back door close shut behind you, signaling your husband finally found where his gloves are and is now ready to help. The small meow also is telling that your kitten has followed him out. You both are bundled up with handmade gloves, scarfs and hats. You have on a blue puffer coat and brown boots and Saeran has on a pink puffer coat with black boots. The fluffy maine coon kitten is wearing a plaid bandana on his neck, his kitten fluff causing him to look like a spiky dust bunny.

“What are we starting on?” Saeran laughs, looking around the yard and at Bramble who is now chasing a falling leaf. His bandana is all you both can see.

“Well, we don’t have much left to do… how about we take care of the leaves that have fallen so then we can plan where we want to put up decorations.” You sigh, talking in the smell of fall around you.

Nodding in affirmation, Saeran starts to walk over to the shed where you two keep all your tools. It’s a pretty big shed, you never really knew how much space some of the tools took. The shed itself is mauve with hand painted designs on it, courtesy of you, Saeran and Seayoung. Saeran had wanted to make it completely unique and original, so all three of you spent a few afternoons in the past painting it. In the end, the building was covered in things that shouted ‘Choi Household’, your designs, Saeran’s flowers and bees, and Saeyoung’s constellations- pretty hectic all things considered but still yours. Whenever you look at it, you feel the happy moments you guys had painting it which never failed to make you smile.

The doors are simple black double dutch doors, the kind that can open at the top while still staying shut. An unfortunate circumstance involving Bramble is what encouraged you both to install one and overall, it is very handy. If you are ever cleaning in there it’s very nice to have the top open to let the breeze in while not having to worry about stray chickens wandering in. The doors always stay locked if either of you aren’t working outside just as a precaution.

Inside is full of every garden tool you’d think you need but doubled. Bags of soil and fertilizers sit in the corner. Pitchforks, hatchets, rakes, and shovels line the walls each on its own hook. A wheelbarrow with handheld spades and shovels, gloves and knee pads hanging off the sides is tucked next to the door for easy access. The older flower pots are stacked in the opposite corner of the bags of soil, close to the deck flower beds and the hanging baskets. There is a tall shelf pushed against the far wall and on it are garbage bags (the heavy-duty ones), chicken scratch, rubber boots, and other tiny miscellaneous items. The overall smell of the shed is very earthy, like you are in the middle of a dense forest, surrounded by nature. The other tools are in the garage, so Saeyoung could have easy access to them whenever the mood to tinker and build hits him.

You grab both rakes with one hand and attempt to grab a couple garbage bags with the other. The rakes however, decide they don’t want to cooperate, slipping out of your fingers while you try to find the endings of the bags in the box. They fall over and land on the ground with a solid thunk and a rattle of the metal one as the prongs collide with each other. Now with an extra hand, you have no problem grabbing the offending garbage bags.

“Why me.” You deadpan, rolling your eyes when you hear Saeran snort behind you.

With a small giggle, Saeran moves to pick up both rakes. He smiles sweetly at you before turning to leave the shed with the rakes in hand quickly- probably so you wouldn’t try to pick them up one handed again- You follow after him, unlatching the top part of the door and pulling the bottom shut behind you.

“Wanna each do half?” You ask, standing next to your lover as you both look over the yard again, this time to make a game plan.

“Hmmm, how about we do a half together, take a short break and then tackle the last half?” He suggests, watching Bramble chase a bird across the yard.

(There are 4 more pages of different endings this could go down but I didn't like the flow so it cuts off here pretty abruptly sorry about that)

#mystic messenger #mysme #fanfic #mysme saeran #mm saeran #saeran x reader #mystic messenger ray #ge saeran #mystic messenger saeran #mystic messenger x reader

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internet-sadass · 2 years

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Closer To God (Thomas Browne x Reader)

Blurb: When Y/N gets the chance to finally talk to the man she stares at every week during sermons, she feels blessed. Yet, her impurity appears to be known to the man of her desires: Thomas Browne

Warnings: smut, some manipulative type talk?, age gap

So, this is my first public fanfic (yikes) and hopefully someone enjoys it. There’s not enough Thomas content so ofc i had to write some absolutely vile filth. Also, idk that much about puritanism or how they exactly spoke so sorry if this isn't historically accurate but not sure anyone is that worried

There he sat, front row as always, head bowed, hands clasped in prayer. His lips whispered repentances for whatever sins he had committed this week. Locks of wavy, deep brown hair, bobbed slightly as he murmured his prayers. Mr Thomas Browne, recently widowed and anxiously trying to save his soul through absolute devotion to the church.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Every Sunday, you would sit through sermons about damnation, the seven deadly sins, and be watching him, eyes scanning over his form. Needless to say, it made church bearable.

A hand firmly grasped your arm.

“Y/N! Keep your eyes from wondering lest you wish to be burned for eternity. Such shame for my own daughter to be consumed by lust on the Lord’s Day!” Your mother hissed, yanking your attention away from Thomas.

“Now pray to the Lord to cleanse your impure thoughts. Lusting after a widowed man, what shame!” She continued in a hushed voice, shaking her head.

“Sorry, mother.” You mumbled, holding your hands together and pretending to pray. Instead, you snuck another glance over to Thomas. He’d sat back in the pew, running a hand through his hair, before turning ever so slightly to look over his shoulder. Your breath caught in your throat as his grey eyes met yours for a fleeting moment.

All these months, you’d watched him, wanted him as your own. Even when his wife was still alive, that didn’t deter you from spending the hours of weekly sermons tracing every hair, every angle of his face. He was the most handsome man you’d set your eyes upon. If there was one thing you would devotedly worship, it would be him. You would bow before him if you ever had the chance.

Church finished finally. You rose from your aching knees, straightening your dress out. Pastor Walter stood on the steps outside, blessing the congregation as they filtered out, occasionally exchanging a few words. You edged silently past him. Something about his wandering eyes made you think he might have worked out your guilty admiration of his most devoted church member.

Mr Browne stood a few paces away, talking softly to his son Edward. His breath was turning to mist in the chilly air, illuminated by some stark rays of winter sun. Your being ached, wishing it was permissible to speak with him. What you would say escaped you, but to hear his voice address you would be like a prayer being answered.

He began to walk away, Edward trailing after him. He looked melancholy as he looked about at the bleak trees. That’s when your focused eyes spotted a white handkerchief laying on the frosted ground.

He had dropped it.

Without hesitation, you gathered your dress and briskly walked down the steps, pausing only to grasp the forgotten handkerchief before running after his form.

“Mr Thomas, sir!” You called, catching up with him. pausing he turned around, looking at you with those grey eyes that incited such a frenzy within you.

“Your handkerchief, sir, you dropped it.” You explained, nerves making you spit your words out.

Thomas smiled kindly, his face looking warm and inviting. This was the closest you’d ever been to him, aside from occasionally brushing shoulders.

“Why thank you- I’m terribly sorry, your name escapes me, miss.” He answered politely, taking his handkerchief from your hand. Fingers ghosted over each other as you exchanged the fabric.

“It’s Y/N L/N, sir.” A hint of heat graced your face at telling him your name. It seemed so intimate to finally be known to the object of your devotion.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss L/N.”

He took your hand and raised it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss upon it. Your skin tingled at his touch.

“And thank you for returning my handkerchief. You are pure of soul, I can tell.” He murmured the end of his sentence in such a way that it seemed like he didn’t want anyone to hear. Something in the way he said ‘pure’ created a sense of shame within you. How mistaken he was to think you were pure, or that your intentions to return his handkerchief were out of godly kindness. Yet, his praise felt good.

“Thank you, sir.” You whispered, shyness taking away your voice.

Thomas gave a nod and a hint of a smirk tugged at his lips.

“Good day, Miss L/N” Was all he uttered before walking on, holding the limp handkerchief in one hand.

You stood, dumbfounded at the interaction. Finally, he had recognized you, spoken to you, looked at you with an intensity which signaled more than politeness. Thomas had kissed your hand, and the spot where his lips had met your skin seemed to burn. His words would have been enough, yet he had given more. And you couldn’t help but think there was a reason for this.

You wondered, whilst walking back to your house with your mother, if maybe he was thinking in the same way as you?

****

A few days later, your mother had sent you to collect mushrooms. Supplies were becoming scarce as winter tightened its grip on the weather. You agreed, gathering up a basket and heading out into the chill. This chore posed an opportunity: there were many mushrooms dotted about the trees surrounding Thomas’s home. So, that’s exactly where you headed.

Multiple growths of mushrooms huddled at the bases of trees. You crouched and plucked them, setting them into the wicker basket. All the while, you chanced looks at Thomas’s house. It was much grander than your own, and much larger. Plus, it had several windows, opening his home to your prying eyes. An occasional shadow of a figure would glide by a window, making you stare intently to try and see if it was Thomas.

Still kneeling on the damp ground, your back ached from being bent over and gathering mushrooms for so long. At least your mother would be happy with the bounty you had collected.

“Miss L/N!” That distinct, smooth voice sounded out. Scrambling to your feet, you turned to see Thomas walking over, hands held behind his back. You hastily brushed the dirt off your dress.

“What are you doing out here, Y/N, on such a cold day?” He questioned, close to you in the small grove of trees.

“Collecting mushrooms, sir. My apologies if I have trespassed, you may take what I have collected.” You replied, fearing you had angered him by plundering the mushrooms surrounding his land.

Thomas laughed lowly, shaking his head.

“Do not fret, I will not take your hard-earned crop from you. I was more concerned about you catching a chill.” The mist from your breathes combined into a single cloud. He was a half arms reach from you, your back against a tree. For once, you felt afraid of him but this fear didn’t make you want to run. It was an excitable fear that was tugging at your lower stomach.

Thomas reached out to take your hand.

“You are cold, your fingers are like ice!” He ran his fingers over your own, attempting to warm them but instead causing heat to rise on your cheeks.

“Please, come in for a while so you don’t catch your death out here.” He continued, still holding your hand.

“I-if you insist, sir.” Words caught in your throat like dry food. His touch, his invitation, all of these things sent your heart thrumming. His grey eyes looked deeply into your own. It was now you recognized how much taller he was then you, towering over your frame. He could do whatever he wanted with you, if he so pleased, and you would be powerless to stop him.

“I do insist, and you would be wise to obey me.” He leant in close to you, whispering for you to be obedient to him. The knot in your lower stomach tightened upon hearing him command you in such a way. He drew back, still holding your hand, and led you to his house.

****

Sitting at one of the intricately carved chairs at his table, you warmed your hands around a cup of tea. Thomas stood in front of the fire, leaning against the wall.

“Tell me, Miss L/N, why is it that you do not have a suitor? A pretty, pure girl such as you should be wedded by now.” He asked, casting a questioning eye over you.

You nearly choked on a sip of tea. That was an incredibly personal and inappropriate question for an older man to be asking you, a twenty year old girl.

“W-well, my mother has not found someone she wishes me to marry, sir. And, quite honestly, the number of suitable men in our town is low.” You responded, trying not to keep tracing your gaze over his form. He looked even better now that you were closer to him, taking in his clothes that probably cost more than your house.

Thomas chuckled.

“So, you are telling me there is no man in this village you wish to wed?” He came to settle in a chair opposite you. Feeling your cheeks redden, you investigated the cup. You pondered whether to hint that there was one man you would wish to wed.

“There is one, I suppose. But alas, he is too high of status and much too old for me.” You kept your answer as vague as possibly, not letting your eyes give away who this man was.

“Hmm, I see. He would be a lucky man, to wed a girl as pure as you. A very lucky man.” Thomas’s voice had grown lower, deeper. You glanced up to see that he was looking at you with an intense gaze. Laughing nervously, you shook your head.

“I would not go as far to call myself that, sir.”

He leant back in his chair.

“And why would that be? Is it that you have already given yourself up to a man without being wedded?” There was a hint of lust underpinning his voice as he spoke.

“No! I am saving myself for marriage, as a woman must do.” Embarrassment overtook you. Here he was, the man you had thought so sinfully about, asking if you had lost your purity already. Thomas gave a ‘hmm’ of thought.

“Well, if this man you wish to wed was to ask you to do such an act, would you?” Thomas had figured you out. He knew. Maybe he had known all along, having caught you staring at him during church. Or possibly he was like Pastor Walter, who appeared to be able to read minds.

“I-I would, sir. But only for this man, no other.” You answered meekly, afraid that he would condemn you for such a confession.

“For this man, you would let him deflower your purity? A lucky man indeed.” His voice was so low now, either from fear of being heard or for another, more sinful, reason. You laughed nervously once again.

“May I ask who this man is? Perhaps I should tell him. A meek little girl like you would hardly be able to confess such a thing yourself.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t just bluntly say that it was him who you wanted to deflower you. Yet, your silence seemed to do all the talking needed.

“I see. This man you speak of is me.” Thomas got up from his chair and walked slowly around to come to stand behind you. You sat dumbly, not knowing what to say or do, frozen in a mixture of fear and aroused excitement.

“I do think, Miss L/N, that you are less pure than you appear. Lusting after a man such as myself, widowed and older than you, is a sin. A sin I didn’t think you would be capable of committing. What would your mother say if she knew you harbored such thoughts, hm?” He whispered into your ear, one arm resting across the back on the chair, caging you in.

“Sir, I-I would not be able to face my mother, if she knew.” You murmured, crossing your legs, and shifting in the chair. His hand rested against your knee.

“Then perhaps you should make a deal with me. Let me take your purity, and I will only tell your mother than I wish to be a suitor. I will not tell her of the sinful indulgence we shall commit. However, if you do not accept this deal, I shall tell her you threw yourself upon me, like the little harlot I know you are within.” His lips grazed the skin of your neck as he spoke. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. This man, the one you had lusted after and longed for, was proposing you not only give up your virginity, but that he would be a suitor. If you had an ounce of faith within your being, you would be thanking God for this.

“Yes, sir, I accept your deal.” You finally answered, feeling his lips come to kiss your neck.

“Good. I like a girl who is as obedient as you.” He mumbled against your skin, pressing more kisses along your throat. He grasped your arm and pulled you to your feet, making the chair fall to the floor. His hand gripped your hair pulling your head back before he pressed his lips against your own. He kissed hungrily, exploring your mouth which had never felt another’s lips or tongue against it. You found yourself holding onto his shirt, his hair, pulling him in as close as possible. The knot that had been building in your stomach began to burn with desire.

Thomas led you to his room, barely able to take his hands off the curves of your body for more than a moment. Closing the door behind you both, he attacked your neck again, kissing and nipping it with a passion you had never known. You felt a moan escape your lips.

“Filthy harlot, making such sounds. Have you any idea how much you stir the devil within me?” Thomas hissed, appearing both angry and lustful.

“You awaken my deepest sins too, sir.” You responded breathily as his fingers began nimbly undoing your dress. Yanking it off you, he took in the sight of your body.

“A temptress indeed.” He muttered to himself before grabbing your arm and leading you to the bed. He sat and practically tossed you over his legs. “A temptress deserving of punishment.”

You were confused as to what he was doing until you felt the sharp slap of his hand against your ass. You let out a cry of pain. No sooner as you felt the stinging begin to die down, another slap hit you. His hand paused from punishing you to run over your smooth skin, his fingers grazing your inner thighs. You prayed he didn’t feel your wetness begin leaking out.

“You’ve never had a man punish you before? No wonder you think so sinfully. I should have done this long before now.” Thomas seethed, seeming enraged at you. Another quick succession of slaps abused your now bruised skin. You could feel his length hard and throbbing against your stomach. He was getting aroused by punishing you, for using you for his pleasure.

Fingers swiped against your wet entrance, teasing the folds. You shivered, longing to feel him inside you just as you had imagined on many a night in your bed.

“So wet for me already, are you, Miss L/N?” Thomas purred. Suddenly, he forced two fingers into your tight cunt, making you gasp and moan. You felt so full, being used to only your fingers exploring your insides. Thomas curled his fingers deep into you, massaging the bundle of nerves within you. A series of deep groans escaped your lips, including his name. This spurred him on to violate your more, thrusting his fingers in and out of you, feeling your wetness soaking his hand. You pressed back against his fingers, wanting them deeper, stretching out your walls. He pressed a hand firmly on you back.

“Eager slut, already hungry for me. If you are going to be so lustful, I may as well match your sinfulness. Get up.” He yanked on your hair to make you stand. Drinking in the sight of him, hair disheveled from your wandering hands, as he removed his shirt and trousers. His length was straining against his underwear, a damp patch of precum staining it. In an instant he had you thrown onto the bed, once again towering over you.

His lips found yours again, kissing you as his hands wandered over your untouched form. Groping at your breasts, you moaned into his mouth, feeling his fingers pinch your hard nipples. Feeling daring, you trailed a tentative hand down his chest, before rubbing his cock through its confines.

“Mm, I wouldn’t expect a virgin to be so bold.” He whispered, his fingers finding your cunt again, rubbing circles around your clit.

“I am eager to please you, sir and have you take me as your own.”

Your words seemed to awaken some unlocked desire, an untapped well of feverish lust within Thomas as his kissing became aggressive.

“I took you as my own as soon as my lips grazed your hand, Y/N. I would not let another man take what is mine.” He said breathlessly, pulling back from you, eyes gazing down at your form.

“Then take me. Make me as impure as my mind is.” You whispered to him, admiring the view of his almost naked form on top of you.

Yanking his underwear off, he lined his now dripping cock up with your virgin cunt. The tip brushed against your folds, tantalizing you. Without any warning, he pushed in, filling you up more than you had ever imagined. Your walls stung as they stretched to accommodate his significant length and girth, making you dig your nails into his back as you grasped onto him.

“You’re so damn tight.” Thomas hissed animalistically, beginning to kiss your neck again, biting at your skin. You moaned at the sensation of his teeth on you flesh and his cock stretching you out. He thrusted harshly, nearly entirely withdrawing before slamming back in, smacking up against your cervix. One hand gripped his arm, another gripped the sheets as he pounded you, moaning and cursing you for bringing a man of God to his knees. Filth falls from his lips, saying how good your cunt feels as it wraps tightly around him, sucking him dry.

Each thrust is intense as Thomas pulls out and then shoves himself back in, balls deep and filling you with his length. Your breath became labored, the initial pain of being split open being replaced with a pleasure you ironically see as heavenly. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you open up more of yourself for him to pillaged. Thomas, feeling you pulling him deeper, pins you down with one hand on your throat.

“You want me deeper in you? I’ll show you how deep I can go.”

With one swift motion, Thomas withdraws from your pulsing cunt, and flips you onto your front. He guides himself into once again, a hand on the small of your back as his length fills you up. The pace picks up again, his balls slapping your clit and causing goosebumps to pucker all over your body. Your cries of absolute pleasure are loud enough to rouse the dead, as you keep on begging him for more. You feel that sinful knot starting to come undone, heat burning your body like the fires of hell, your heart racing and knuckles white as they grip the sheets. The bed frame shrieks at the intensity of Thomas’s thrusts, as he pounds you, his hips colliding with your ass with loud smacks.

“Thomas, I think I’m c-close.” You choke out, pressing your chest against the bed, spreading yourself wider for him. The sight of you presenting yourself in such a way unleashes the devil within his god-fearing soul. Grasping your hips, his nails biting into you, he fucks you with slow, hard pumps, savoring the sensation of you clenching around his length as your climax approaches.

“Release your sin, Y/N. You’re mine now.”

With those words, you feel yourself come undone, the heat that had been building within you pouring out as liquid which oozes between your thighs and all over Thomas’s cock. Your calls of his name make him groan, having you praising him for bringing you such divine pleasure.

“You want me to truly claim you, Y/N? Will you let me fill you with my seed?” He asks, panting softly. Fucked out beyond belief, all you can manage is a weak nod. A hand grasps your hair, shoving your face into the sheets as he spurts hot, thick ropes of cum into your awaiting insides. You feel so full as he fucks his load into you, not wanting to withdraw just yet. Finally finished, he pulls out, watching as his seed drips from your arousal, tainted with virginal blood from your freshly torn hymen.

“Y/N.” Thomas whispers as he lays beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You are mine now, forever.”

Resting your head upon his chest, you smile.

“I couldn’t ask for any sweeter words to be said.”

****

There came a knock upon your door. Before you could answer it, your mother had bustled over, wiping her hands on her skirt. She opened the door to the tall figure of Thomas.

“Mrs L/N, may I be so bold to ask to court your daughter, Y/N?”

#thomasbrowne #american horror story #ahs milkmaids #cody fern #thomas browne x reader #ahs smut #x reader

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morvantmortuary · 8 months

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Where this pairing came from? Who know?! But let's just say the details are fuzzy on who bought who a drink first. But Shay walks away with a new contact, one that's probably going to cause some...issues within the Matheson/Morvant group.

(Like I said, I don't know where this pair came from, but I feel like Seth is the best fit for Shay? Anyway! Thanks for indulging me, babe! I hope you enjoy these as well as the previous collages I made. Hope all is well with you. Sending you love and hugs from the Pine Barrens! As well as from a little patch of swamp!)

this is so unexpectedly cute I literally burst out laughing in delight when I saw it 🖤🖤🖤

Seth loves tall, dark, and mysterious in a man, it’s a proven weakness. He’d definitely be game to be the one to make the move and buy him something expensive while he watches from across the bar (but if Shay bought him one first, he’d immediately make a show of being flattered to receive it and gesture to the empty bar stool next to him.) I can imagine he walks off with Shay’s number feeling quite smug with his catch from that evening, and the flirtation builds from there — they both travel a lot for “work,” so that kind of understanding is rare and very much valued in a potential partner for Mr. Sunday here.

And the first time he comes over for a casual hangout, meeting Shay’s people (in something understated but still sharply tailored, bringing a bottle of very well-aged scotch as a gift), he sees the Morvants and they see him and it’s like stray cats hissing in an alley (except the temperature immediately drops five degrees in the room and all the necromancers start looking a bit paler than usual, little glitters of color hopping around people’s hands like static cling)

It’s a polite-off between Seth and Maxi, whereas Rora immediately picks up an empty beer bottle to smash on the nearest furniture and use as a weapon (which Hex quickly grabs her wrist and switches it for a regular knife)

Seth is like “Oh. How droll. Shay, darling, I didn’t realize you were acquainted with my… associates, here.”

Maxi��s like “We’ve known the family for a while, they’re very good friends of ours. :) Very good. :))) How interestin’ to see you here.”

Seth: “Likewise. I didn’t realize you had friends amongst the living. :)”

Maxi: “Well, imagine that. I was unaware you had time in your work for friends. :)”

Seth: “Oh, you know, They Who Provide are so busy, someone has to weed out the nepo baby riffraff.”

Maxi: “Judehoneywouldyouexcuseme—“ as he’s launching himself across the table and pulling his scalpel out of his vest pocket, with his relatives following close behind (Rora has the knife, Hex himself has picked up the empty bottle and breaks it on the doorframe as he goes).

There’s a lot of bright flashes as the lightbulbs in whatever fixtures explode, Maxi shoving Seth backwards out the door he just walked into. It’s hard to say who started what, and the colored light flying around, as well as the sudden ghastly fog that came out of nowhere, really doesn’t help. By the time someone in the Matheson clan calls for a truce, the skin on Seth’s face is sizzling and seemingly rapidly wrinkling on his left cheek in the perfect outline of Maxi’s hand. He’s also clutching a whole hank of Rora’s hair he pulled out by the roots in a hand that doesn’t look very human anymore; Hex suddenly looks like he’s had the flu for two weeks and shooing away some odd shadowy figures when he was fine ten minutes ago, but is standing there with one of Seth’s torn jacket sleeves clenched in his fist; Maxi’s trying to hide where his skin seems to be splitting and flaying deep into his face from the corners of his mouth (and his teeth are definitely a lot? pointier?? than usual???); and Rora’s trying to hold her face on because her resurrection scars seem to have opened by themselves.

Needless to say, the necromancers would all have to slink off to separate corners to lick their wounds for a bit, with the Morvants each pleading their case to their respective Matheson (there might need to be a powerpoint involved explaining that They Who has hired guns and Seth is definitely out for their heads).

Seth, meanwhile, just apologizes to Shay for making such a fuss of their evening, leaving the scotch as a present and insisting he make things up to Shay with a nice dinner somewhere on a day of his choosing.

Seth definitely hates the Morvants (that’s an understatement and its mutual), but he likes Shay quite a bit. More than he’s liked anyone else in a long time. It’s… nice, after so long alone, to have someone who understands that kind of loneliness that comes with being dedicated to your work.

At some point, the four of them might just have to grit their teeth and agree that they won’t fight outside of Louisiana/when all the Mathesons are present, depending what holds true at the time.

But they still stay pretty far across the room from one another. :’D

thanks so much for letting me ramble for a bit, I’m still breaking Seth in and he’s a lot of fun to try out new things for. ♥️ I appreciate all the lovely things you send me, hon, it really is a huge treat to see someone else take the murderblorbs for a spin! 🥰

#nice people!!#the nicest <3 #jess!! ♥️#shay matheson #seth sunday #the miraculous mister sunday #morvant mortuary #menace of the pine barrens #ART!!!

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aventurasdeunatortuga · 10 months

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Zhijiang

Well so I’m a bit behind on things and there have been some minor mishaps, so I’ll update you on the last week over the course of three posts. Here’s part 1.

On Sunday I was supposed to go from Fenghuang to Lijiang, which involved taking a bus to the train station, taking a train two towns over, and getting a cab to the airport to catch my flight. Needless to say that did not happen.

I underestimated how long the bus ride to the train station was and got on the wrong bus initially which made it all take longer. I got to the train station 1 minute before my train was meant to leave and missed it. At that point my flight was going to leave in 2 hours and I was 90 minutes away by car. I tried to get a cab but no one was willing to take me that far.

I sat on a bench for a while in defeat and then picked myself up and dusted myself off to figure things out. I went to the ticket office at the train station to try to get a new train ticket, the train station employee was super helpful and even though he had no English and my Chinese is rudimentary at best he didn’t give up and kept on trying to help me until we figured out a solution. He found me a train ticket to another destination that wasn’t as close to the airport but the train was leaving immediately and maybe I could figure out a cab from there. I was very grateful for him, I don’t blame people for taking one look at me and saying sorry I can’t help because it really isn’t fair of me to expect them to help me when I don’t speak their language and communicating with mobile translators is very difficult and clunky and time consuming. So I’m very grateful to people who take the time and have the patience to help silly old me.

I made it on the train, and got to the neighboring town of Huaihua. Which was still one town away from where the airport was. At that point my flight was in 90 minutes and I was about an hour away from the airport in optimal conditions. The train station was enormous and when I told the cab driver I was going to the airport he laughed and laughed.

That’s when the real fun started.

He drove me for a couple of minutes, when I asked him how much it would be to go to the airport, and he did finger guns which is definitely not a unit of currency. Then he pulled over on the side of the road and asked which airport I was going to.

I kept repeating again and again which airport I was going to and showing him on the map and showing him the address in Chinese but he was for whatever reason just not understanding at all. Maybe I was pronouncing it wrong or had the wrong Chinese characters written down or I don’t know. Chinese tones always get me, there are 5 different ways to pronounce every vowel sound which completely changes the meaning of the word (shí means is, shì means 10, etc. so pronouncing something wrong totally changes your meaning). We were pulled over for nearly 10 minutes until we figured it out.

Then he drove for about 5 more minutes and decided it was time for a lunch break. So he pulled over and went in a restaurant and ordered food. I mean, he did ask me to join and if I wanted anything. I think I made him mad with my frantic 不要不要！我要去在机场现在！(No! No! I want to go to the airport now!) so he got his order to go and drove off. My flight was at this point leaving in 45 minutes and we were 35 minutes away.

Then we saw the construction workers. The freeway was closed for construction. So we turned around and took a detour. The driver just kept on asking me again and again “为什么你不回说汉语吗” (why don’t you speak Chinese), which I mean, fair question.

We made it to the airport 8 minutes after my flight had left, which, given all the mitigating factors, was actually very impressive.

So there I was in this tiny airport in the town of Zhijiang, which I had never heard of before today. I was the only person in the airport besides the employees and they told me there were no more flights today and asked what my plans were. There was literally nothing around for miles besides cornfields.

So I just started crying and saying I don’t know.

The Zhijiang airport staff are actual angels and they huddled together and whispered amongst themselves for a solid ten minutes and then told me to come with them. It took 4 staff members, many phone calls, and nearly an hour of going back and forth with phone translators but they were able to figure out how to get me on a flight the next day, a hotel for the night, and a ride to and from the hotel to the airport. I am so so grateful to them, they definitely could have just left me there to figure it out myself. They didn’t even work for the airline, they were just airport staff.

So I got to the hotel in downtown Zhijiang. It goes to show just how huge of a country China is that Zhijiang is considered a very small town no one really knows about and yet it was definitely at least the size of Portland if not bigger. The airport staff had managed to score me a room at one of the nicest hotels in town for about $35. It was definitely one of the fanciest hotels I have ever stayed in. Complete with automatic curtains, one of the biggest tvs I have ever seen, and a Japanese heated smart toilet. It was also overlooking an enormous river and waterfront promenade type area.

I enjoyed the hotel for a while, watched TV, and ate convenience store snacks. Then in the evening the waterfront area started coming to life so I went out to explore. The river was so wide and calm, I’d never seen such a still, clear river before. There were people swimming back and forth across it. I dipped my feet in for a while and people watched. When the sun went down the city lit up. Like literally.

Apparently in Zhijiang every night there is a coordinated light show all along the entire riverfront, all the buildings synchronize their lights to light up along with it accompanied by classical music. It lasts for about 4 hours and even included a fog machine at one point. The path and the stairs and the bridge were all lit up in rainbow lights while people took their evening walks. Kids were swimming in the river and playing with bubbles and old ladies were doing zumba and tai chi. It was very idyllic and beautiful. The waterfront area itself reminded me so much of Portland with the river and the bridges but it was so much livelier and full of life. It was really cool.

The next morning I made it to Lijiang without a hitch. Even though this stopover in Zhijiang was unexpected I ended up really enjoying it and was glad for the experience. I’ll update soon with more about Lijiang.

#china #travel #solo travel #asia #hunan #zhijiang #travel mishaps

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captainhowlreportingforduty · 2 years

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Chapter 23: An arm and a leg

((AN: ok maybe I should consider an upload schedule to get me to post regularly.))

They all met again on Sunday, this time in the Artefact Room, not Myrtle’s bathroom. Yesterday had shown that Merula hung around the 'Cursed Corridor', as they called it, the same as they did.

And now, Rowan, Ben, Penny and Thena were all sitting criss-cross-applesauce in the dusty floor of the dimly lit Artefact Room, all under the empty gaze of Bob the skull. Needless to say, the room was made for secret congregations.

“Yesterday, Ben and I taught ourselves the Knockback Jinx.”

Rowan was leading the meeting, she had all the notes where she had documented what had been done and what still needed to be done.

“We later taught it to Thena, which means that you, Penny, are the only one in this group who doesn’t know the spell. If you want, we can teach it to you as well, that is if you want to come with us.”

Penny hummed in response.

“It’s alright, we should learn it in Charms any lesson now anyway. Besides, am I really going to make it into the team that goes for the door?”

Thena couldn’t keep herself from snorting out a laugh.

“Sorry about that. But it’s just that we do not really have an army of people to choose from, do we?”

Ben nodded solemnly.

“We really don’t. Please keep helping us.”

“Speaking of helping us...” Rowan was obviously trying to keep this meeting productive.

“I heard you already have a potion in mind?”

Penny nodded in response, showing off a heavy potions book.

“I do, actually. Strengthening Solution. It temporarily grants superhuman strength to the user.”

“Perfect!” Rowan’s eyes had gotten that special glint to them again.

Thena had observed that that happened whenever Rowan stumbled upon an interesting piece of information, was in a brainstorming fit and had thousands of brilliant ideas at once, she just thought of her winning move in wizarding chess or when she was watching a plan of hers coming to fruition.

“When can you start brewing it? And how long does it take to finish?”

“Well, that’s kind of the catch...”

Penny distractedly tugged on one of the braids in her hair.

“I need a list of ingredients. Ones that we can’t just pluck from a meadow.”

Ben raised his head from where it had been resting on his arms, alarmed.

“What kind of ingredients are those then?”

“Well, first of all, we need the core of all Potions, the 'Standard Ingredient'...”

“What even is that?" Thena was already interjecting.

“Oh, that might be the easiest one of them to get our hands on. It’s just a mixture of several dried herbs. It’s the other ingredients that are giving me something of a headache...”

Penny started reading out a list from one of the book pages.

“Salamander blood, powdered Griffin claw, a snake fang, the head of a Fanged Geranium, an arm bone-“

“A WHAT?!” Ben shrieked, causing Thena to jump nearly a foot into the air.

“A human bone or an animal bone?” Rowan asked, way calmer.

Penny just shrugged, helpless.

“It doesn’t say anything about the kind of bone here...”

Thena frowned. “Where are we going to get a bloody arm bone? Like what, are we supposed to murder someone?”

“Don’t forget the head of a Fanged Geranium!” Ben added, voice still about an octave higher than usually.

“Alright, alright. We have to organise this.”

Rowan pulled out a new roll of parchment and neatly wrote down the list of ingredients.

“Now. How do we get these ingredients?”

“Potions class.” Thena answered without hesitation. Ben just gaped at her with big eyes.

“Are you insane? Snape will kill you?”

“Hey, we will be sneaky!”

“What do you mean, WE?” Ben was getting paler by the minute. Rowan sighed.

“Thena, could you explain what exactly you have in mind before Ben here has a heart attack?”

Thena chuckled.

“Sure thing, Ro. For example, the Standard Ingredient. Penny said that it’s just some powdered herbs, right?”

Penny nodded affirmative.

“So it’s easy to hide. And to make it even less obvious that someone is sneaking dried herbs out of the classroom, all of us take small amount, stretched over several Potions lessons. Pinch by pinch, we’ll have the needed amount of Standard Ingredient!”

“That’s brilliant!” Penny exclaimed with a wide grin.

“We can do the same thing with the powdered griffin claw and even the snake fang! I know for a fact that Snape keeps them in the cupboard with all the other ingredients!”

Rowan scribbled away on the parchment.

“That leaves us with the Fanged Geranium, the arm bone and the salamander blood.”

“Just a quick question: All of you are okay with stealing ingredients and risking Snape’s wrath?”

Ben gave the girls, who just nodded at him, an incredulous and ultimately defeated glance.

“Okay. Just asking.”

“I could get my hands on a Fanged Geranium.” Penny picked up where they had been before Ben’s attempt to get them to not have theft on their criminal record.

“Since Professor Sprout is my House teacher, it would raise no suspicion if I offered to help out in the Greenhouses. Sooner or later, I’ll have to come across a Fanged Geranium.”

“So we’re down to the arm bone and the salamander blood.”

Contemplative silence.

“Maybe we just start collecting the ingredients we know how to get and hope we have an epiphany later on....?” Thena proposed finally.

“Just keep in mind: the arm bone has priority over the salamander blood. I already need the bone for the first part, the blood can wait for the second part.”

“And I just thought of another thing...” Thena added.

“Rowan and I can help with the Standard Ingredient, but one of you two, Ben and Penny, should take care of the powdered Griffin claw and the snake fang.”

Confused looks where sent in her direction.

“Merula is with us in Potions.”

The looks immediately became understanding, even though only Rowan and Ben knew of the bag incident, and only Rowan had been told of the weird effect of had had on Thena.

“I could do it.”

It was Ben who was talking timidly into the silence.

“Are you sure?” Penny frowned.

“I’ve seen firsthand how you react to Snape in class even when you’re doing everything right. I could do it too, you know?”

But Ben simply shook his head.

“I’m really sneaky and good at hiding any evidence I even existed in the first place. I can handle it.”

Knowing how difficult this must be for Ben, who feared nothing more than confrontation, Thena gave him a warm smile.

“Thank you, Ben. This means a lot to me.” He returned her smile as Thena continued.

“Well, I think we can call this a successful meeting!”

#thena aeronwyn smith #rowan khanna #ben copper #penny haywood #hphm #hphm mc #thena smith and the lost cause #thena smith and the legend of the vaults #my writing

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wheretheresaway-theresawilliam · 3 months

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Chapter 1: The Off-Day

Word Count: 1235

TWs: Smoking mention

/) /) ( • ༝•)

Vanessa Fields was an average woman. She worked a steady job as a daytime security guard at Freddy Fazbear’s Mega PizzaPlex, the latest grand attempt of the Fazbear Corporation to further itself from its humble beginnings. She had been a child when the first Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria had opened, but she knew there was something that came even before that. She didn’t like to think about her childhood. She had always been proactive about her future, and she was okay with where she was currently. A decent apartment, a job that made her feel useful, and good friends. A routine she could rely on. She should’ve known her life was about to take a turn when she woke up to her phone buzzing loudly on her bedside table.

“Hello…?”

“Vanessa! You’re late!” Her best friend and co-worker, Ginny, was on the other end.

“What?!” She scrambled to look at her watch. 10:30am. “Shit!”

“Shit is right, Ness! What were you up to last night???”

She put her phone on speaker and rushed to get ready. “Nothing out of the ordinary, I don’t know why I slept so late…”

“Mmhm, you’re sure you didn’t have a guy over?”

“Ginny, when have you ever seen me take a guy home?”

“Hey, that doesn’t mean anything! I don’t know what you do in your spare time.”

“Needless to say, no, I didn’t have a guy over. Maybe my phone had a glitch and my alarm didn’t go off.”

“Maybe. Listen, I can only cover for you for so long--”

“I know, I know!” Dressed and freshened up, Vanessa grabbed her bag and wallet. “I’m leaving now. You don’t think you could get some coffee started in the breakroom for me, could you?”

“Yeah, but you better get here before it gets cold!”

“I will, love you, bye!”

“Love you, bye!!”

She hung up and sped out of her apartment, descending the steps two at a time in an attempt to catch the 10:40 bus. She got there just as the doors were beginning to shut, breathing heavily as she leapt on and paid for her ride before settling into the last free seat. She sighed, leaning back and glancing up at the metallic ceiling. It was rare for her to be late to anything, always commended for being punctual… which meant she shouldn’t fear any heavy reprimanding from her supervisor, but anxiety and self-disappointment still hung over her, like a mist. That was her constant struggle; confidence. She faked it pretty well, but underneath that guise, it bogged her down like a pair of concrete shoes. She felt lucky that most of her life was full of distractions from that endless pit inside of her.

The PizzaPlex could easily be mistaken for a mall, with its sheer size, popularity, and shininess. It boasted “Multiple floors of fun, numerous dining options, talented animatronic performers, and friendly staff,” Tuesday through Sunday. Vanessa and her fellow guards were practically the only authority over the entire place, as parents had a habit of letting their children run wild through the building, sometimes even leaving altogether for the day, even though it was strictly advised that parents supervise their children at all times. It was annoying, yes, but sometimes Vanessa didn’t mind it. She liked kids. She couldn’t see herself as a mother, but as someone’s aunt, or at least a trustworthy adult, sure. Ginny handed her her coffee as she walked into the breakroom.

“There’s my favourite sleepyhead!” She chimed, making Vanessa’s brow crease.

“Alright, I’m here now, you can drop it,” she chastised lightly. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime, pal. And don’t worry about Rob, I told him there was traffic.”

“Thanks…” She sipped her coffee and went over to her locker, opening it to retrieve her badge, taser, and flashlight. “Anything I should know about going on today?”

Ginny thought for a moment, twisting a strand of her curly hair around her finger. “Oh, Rob’s training a new guy, I don’t know his name. Otherwise, nope, nothing at all. Just your typical day at the PizzaPlex, filled with screaming children and trying not to slip on discarded pizza slices.”

Vanessa laughed shortly. “Ah, c’mon, it’s not so bad! The coffee’s free.”

Ginny laughed as well and lightly bumped her arm with the back of her hand. “I’ll see you out on the floor, alright?”

Vanessa nodded and finished her coffee while Ginny left. She took a few breaths. Alright, slow start to the morning, but nothing she couldn’t get over with a good day’s work. She pinned her badge to her shirt, placed her items in her belt, and put her bag away in her locker. Where other colleagues had spruced theirs up with family photos and motivating quotes, Vanessa had left hers barren in comparison. There was a calendar, a whiteboard, and a mirror on the inside of the door, but that was about it. She supposed that’s how she liked it, as her apartment was the same way. Some may call it boring. She called it tidy. Beyond the breakroom, the PizzaPlex was the complete opposite, a constant barrage of noise and colour. Today, Vanessa had been assigned to observe the dining area up until her lunch break, after which she’d swap over to the Superstar Daycare, which was the only part of the building where it was relatively safe to leave children unsupervised. This was due to the aptly named Daycare Attendant, a friendly and childish but high-tech animatronic specifically made to look after children. Of course, it had handlers to ensure safety, but the animatronic was notably capable of doing its job.

Vanessa had barely been patrolling for five minutes when a young boy ran into her, bouncing off of her leg and falling onto the checkered floor.

“Woah, slow down there, champ!” Vanessa offered her hands. “You alright?”

He took them and stood, brushing himself off. “I’m fine--”

“Toby! What did I tell you about running?!” A frayed, feminine voice cut him off. Vanessa looked up to see who had shouted. The woman appeared to be similar in age to her, as well as height, with a bold sense of style and piercings.

“Hey, it’s alright, happens all the time,” Vanessa dismissed lightly. She wasn’t hurt and the kid wasn’t hurt, so she found no reason to be upset. The woman stopped, briefly staring at her before forcing a smile.

“Yeah, you’re right, little zits like him just don’t know how to listen.”

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” Toby whined.

“You better not or I’m taking your ass straight home!”

“Woah, woah, I don’t think there’s any need to get aggressive Miss…?”

“Huh? Oh, Vanita. My friends call me Vannie.”

“Miss Vanita. What a pretty name. But you agree with me, right, no harm no foul? He’s just doing what little boys do.” She smiled politely, hoping to smooth things over.

“Whatever. Go play,” Vanita gently pushed Toby away. “And don’t run!”

Instead, Toby jogged away and Vanessa exhaled gratefully.

“Glad we got that squared away. Is that your--?”

“Little brother, nothing else. I guess it's not all bad, I’ve got two older sisters that are much worse. Tch.” Vanita folded her arms and shook her head. “Do you smoke, Vanessa?”

This completely caught her off guard. “Excuse me??”

“I guess not. I’ll be seeing you, then.” With that, Vanita went in the direction of her brother, leaving Vanessa confused and slightly uncomfortable. How did she know my name??

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf fic #vanessa fnaf #vanny fnaf #Doppelgänger! au #q'd

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lindsaywesker · 1 year

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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to the working week although, for those of you working in the NHS, welcome to just another day.

My weekend was very enjoyable! For a wide variety of reasons. Actually, I always enjoy my weekend. Whether I’m doing something or nothing, I enjoy my life. My life is good.

Friday was a very long day! I was up before 6.00, scheduled to teach from 9.30-12.30, then I had planned to help a student with his podcast from 1.00-2.00, but then the school asked me to cover another lesson from 4.30-7.30. So, when I eventually got home just before 9.00, I was cold, tired and hungry but, thankfully, my house was warm and there was Chinese food waiting for me.

I’m not well. I sound a bit like Barry White. Got a bit of a cough and a cold. More like Barry Green! Thankfully, the radio show went well. Many thanks to everyone that listened to the show live and those that will listen to it on MixCloud. The Letter M (Pt. 11) is this Saturday at 1.00 p.m.

On Saturday evening, The Trouble and I attended a 90th birthday party. The father of GaryColonel Henry. 90 years old? Crikey, if I make it to 70, we’re having a big fuck-off party! If I make it to 80, you are ALL invited! When I first met The Trouble in 1982, she was part of a lover’s rock called Prediction, which is also when I first met Gary. Because they were brilliant, I began managing the band soon after and, many years later, Gary and I wrote most of the songs on the second Dazzle album, so we’ve known each other 40 years and been through a lot together. It was a pleasure to catch-up with old friends and hear lots of them grown folks, old time reggae tunes. Delicious catering courtesy of Angie’s Kitchen, who gave me some take away boxes, which I will eat today!

On Sunday, The Trouble cooked-up a storm and we actually entertained Sunday lunch guests. Most Sundays, we do a huge fry-up but, this week, we got rice & peas, stewed chicken, macaroni cheese and BBQ ribs. Yes, yes, I know. I am spoilt rotten. During Sunday lunch with some of The Trouble’s cousins, we were talking about Caribbean people reaching 90-plus, and they agreed it was probably due to more ‘natural’ remedies (such a soursop and cerasee) being dispensed, as opposed to yet another drug prescribed by the local GP.

My diary has suddenly gone barmy but there is lots to look forward to. We are down in Hove this weekend, I am spinning tunes at a wedding on May 27th and joining the Bank Holiday party at The White Lion (Streatham) on May 28th. We have one dinner date on 31st and another dinner date on June 3rd, it’s The Trouble’s birthday on June 11th, ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’ is coming live from Summer Soulstice on June 24th and then I’ll be doing the Mi-Soul ‘Concert At The Castle’ event in Windsor on July 9th. ‘Let The Music Play’ is back at Cinnabar (Stevenage) on August 27th and, at some point in September, we need to go to Jamaica for a family wedding!

Sad to hear about the death of Dave Brown, presenter of the soul show on BBC Radio Kent for many years. First met him in about 1982. Back in the day, before the internet, for the good folk of Kent, Dave was their essential guide to the newest soul, funk, jazz-funk and disco releases.

The only problem with the 90th function was that it was held in a five-a-side centre, with guys playing football long into the evening. Needless to say, the male toilets were disgusting! What is it with men and toilets? All three stalls were clogged with toilet paper. Parents: do the world a favour and teach your boys how to use a toilet! How hard is it to take responsibility for your waste? Flush two and three times, if necessary. It’s not complicated.

Probably the funniest thing on Sunday morning was people on my timeline going, “Eurovision was rubbish!” Erm … Eurovision always has been rubbish and always will be rubbish. It’s a flawed concept. It makes ‘Naked Attraction’ look like good television!

Have a marvellous and momentous Monday. I love you all.

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #new blog #lockdown #coronavirus #books #weekend #democracy #brexit #cronyism #election #radio

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00katrinka00 · 1 year

Text

Landcaster Legacy Gen 7 Update #30

Dear Diary, Lacy's play was so good last night. I'm still so confused by the ending though, Lacy went straight to bed after coming home last night, and then left super early today so I haven't had time to ask her about it.

-Violet

Saturday afternoon Violet and Janie met on the pier for a date. "Have you started packing for Mt. Komrebi yet?" Violet asked. "You leave Monday morning." "I only have a few things packed," Janie admitted. "I guess I'm hoping the slower I pack the more time I'll get here with you"

"We can't stop time, but we can take some pictures," Violet suggested and the girls got situated for a photo together. "They usually last longer anyways," Janie told her.

Violet and Janie headed over to the photo booth to take some more pictures. Violet seemed pretty pleased with how their photo turned out, and to be fair it was super cute.

"I really need to head home," Violet said. "But I'll see you at my mom's dinner party tomorrow? It starts at 6:00pm." "I wouldn't miss it," Janie assured her, and Violet pulled her in for a goodbye kiss.

Leo decided that it was time he start prioritizing his goals again. He'd had enough with all the girl drama, and it was about time he start focusing on college again, he was about to be a senior anyways. Leo got up early that morning and went for a run and researched universities

While Mads began getting everything downstairs set up for their dinner party that evening, Ethan kept Rosie preoccupied by doing some flash cards with her. Needless to say, she enjoyed spending some quality time with her father.

Sunday, when Lacy returned home from their final show, she immediately dyed her hair. It felt good to have this little piece of herself back. The remainder of shows went well, Owen avoided her, and the watcher stopped cheating Wade's energy so he was actually able to go on as Eli

Meanwhile, Mads was downstairs prepping all the food they'd need for the dinner party. She enjoyed hosting guests and was extremely excited that her friend Parker had agreed to come tonight. Mads hadn't seen them since Leo and Nat's birthday so it was going to be nice to catch up

Before anyone knew it 6:00pm was here, and guests began to arrive. Jackie immediately challenged Ethan to a game of chess. "You're going down Hope," she teased. "In your dreams, Wilkes," Ethan taunted. "Oh please, I've beaten you at every game we've played since college."

"You don't know how happy I am that you were able to make it!" Mads exclaimed. "It's been years." "Well, you know how it is," Parker responded. "Work is always calling my name." "Strangerville is so far too. Is it true there are aliens out there?" Parker let out a nervous laugh.

Parker excused themself to grab a plate of food just at Mikayla sat down next to Mads. "So how's the grandparent life treating you?" she asked. "Don't call me that, it makes me sound so old," Mikayla complained. "But Sawyer is the sweetest, just like Nat was."

Rosie managed to track down the only other toddler invited to this dinner part, and very quickly struck up an incoherent conversation with Sawyer. Whatever they were talking about both girls seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Nat spent most of the night trying to avoid Leo, so this led her into a conversation with both of her mothers, and Parker in the back hallway of the Landcaster residence.

Nat's younger sister, Jayda, took a seat next to lacy making her feel quite tense. "You haven't seen Janie wandering around have you?" Violet asked. "I've been looking all over, but there are so many sims it's hard to move." "I haven't seen her yet," Lacy responded. "Sorry."

Jayda had enough of Lacy's mood and went to search for Parker's son, who was the only other child at the party. Violet scooted over next to Lacy. "She just promised she's come," Violet complained. "And she's nowhere to be found. Maybe I should go look again."

"Can we talk?" Leo asked after he was finally able to corner Nat alone. "I guess," Nat relied. Deep down she knew a conversation with Leo was inevitable. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I was a jackass for not showing up for Sawyer's birth when I promised I would."

"Honestly, Leo," Nat began to say. "You shouldn't have promised anything to begin with. Sawyer isn't your baby, and you were with Sofia at the time. It was unfair of me to expect you to be there, I guess I was just jealous." "But we're friends," Leo said "Wait, jealous?"

"And at the end of the day I don't want him to get hurt, and he just can't seem to understand that, " Lacy was venting to Violet. "It sounds like you have some issues to resolve here, Lacy," Violet pointed out. "I have no issues," Lacy snapped clearly irritated.

"Violet has a point," Ethan interjected. "You do seem to have some issues trusting yourself in relationships, also it seems like this Owen fellow really likes you. I could set up an appointment with Violet's therapist for you." "Absolutely not," Lacy snapped. "I'm fine, I swear."

Jackie decided to do some flash cards with Sawyer in a puddle of mystery pee.

(Seriously I have no clue who pissed on the floor)

As the evening drew to a close, Mads was finally able to meet little Sawyer. "Oh, Nat, she's just adorable," Mads exclaimed and then turned to Sawyer. "You really are lucky, Nat's going to be such an amazing mother." "What can I say," Nat shrugged.

Violet ended up heading outside to get some air. After everyone had left Mads decided to have a chat with her daughter. "Everything okay?" "Janie never showed," Violet told her. "She promised."

"She even asked how important it was to me that she come tonight, and then never showed," Violet ranted. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry" Mads tried to console her. "Like I'm starting to wonder if she even likes me at all" Violet admitted. "One second it's great and the next it's not"

Mads pulled Violet in for a hug. "I'll always be here for you," Mads assured her. "Thanks mom," Violet said. "But I actually kind of just want to be alone for now, can I take a walk. To clear my head?" "Sure," Mads told her. "Just be safe, alright." "Okay."

#TheSims4 #TheSims4Gameplay #TheSims4community #The Sims 4 #The Sims 4 Gameplay #LandcasterLegacy

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