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shubblelive · 7 months

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— HYPOTHETICAL CAT

summary : your first time staying with wilbur since the beginning of your long-distance relationship, and you're already dreading leaving him. luckily for you, you may not have to.

genre : fluff

warnings : slightly dialogue heavy?? not proofread unlike usual but i think we're good

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x cc!fem!reader

pronouns : none (you/yours) BUT wilbur referrs to reader as a girl

featuring : cc! wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a wilbur fic where him and the reader have a long distance relationship? And one day when she comes and visits him, he admits he cant go such long periods of time without seeing her, so he proposes that she moves in with him, the rest is up to you, thank you! xx

word count : 873

note : okay i wrote this all in one day which i never do but it was a struggle. but, i power through for you guys. i hope you enjoy this <33333

No one told you when you started out that your favourite thing about content creation would be the webcam quality. Of course, it was definitely something you could live without, but on nights when it was just you and Wilbur, a video call on your desktop as your sun rose and his set, the fact that you could see him in picture perfect vision was occasionally the only thing holding you together.

But then suddenly, he was right in front of you.

You and Wilbur had been together for nearly three years, meeting at a creator event ages ago. You’d seen him at a panel and he’d waited in line to meet you just to give you his phone number, asking you to call him, and two weeks later he was calling you darling.

You’d known at that first meeting that you lived awfully far from each other, but that hadn’t been thought of as a particularly big issue until the two of you started dating, and then it was comparable to torture. You’d have semi-regular meetings where he’d fly to your place and stay with you for a couple of days. This time, though, this was different.

“You have been holding out on me,” your voice was heavy with sleep, your head in Wilbur’s lap as the two of you watched something, some nature documentary that was playing so softly it was almost designed to put you to sleep. “Your couch is so much more comfortable than mine is.”

Wilbur looked down at you fondly. “My bad,” he laughed steadily, careful not to be too loud. “I guess I thought that if you got to experience the wonders of my sofa you’d only wanna come here, I wouldn’t get to come see you as much.”

“I knew you and Mr Gardener had some weird thing going on,” you said, accusatory with a smile draped across your face.

“He makes you bread!” Wilbur defended. “How are you not obsessed with him?”

You cracked one of your eyes open sleepily, hand coming up to reach for his. He took it eagerly, drinking in your figure as you lay on his couch. “I’m pretty sure he’s not the one doing it.”

Wilbur threw his head back to rest against the couch, letting out a puff of air. “Okay, maybe Emily is the one doing the actual baking, but you can’t tell me that Mr Gardener doesn’t add to the experience.”

“I’m sure he does.” You hummed.

“You can not seriously tell me that baking a loaf of bread is not made infinitely better by the presence of a cat.”

You paused. “Okay, okay. It would be.”

Wilbur let out a pleased noise, moving down to run his hands up and down the exposed skin by your collarbone. “We should get a cat,”

His voice was barely loud enough for you to hear it, your eyes closed and his voice heavy with exhaustion. The two of you had been out all day on the first day of your visit, finally taking a moment to rest.

“Should we?” You mused. “Who gets custody?”

Wilbur made a choking sound like the answer was obvious. “Well- I would, right?”

You forced yourself up, yawning as you brought your knees to your chest. “Why am I jealous of our hypothetical cat right now?”

Wilbur chuckled and reached for you, sitting forward on his knees, gently tugging at your calves until he was resting on your chest. “You don’t have to be,” he pointed out. “I’ve got a very big bed. And an entire section of wardrobe that I’m not using, and-”

“Wilbur,” you chided. “You know it’s not as easy as me simply never going home. Believe me, if I could spend the rest of my life curled into this couch, I would but-”

Wilbur sighed dramatically, pulling himself off you and standing up. “There you go, dream crusher,” he let out an exaggerated groan, taking you by the hand and pulling you up. His cheek was pressed against the side of your face, hands interlocked. “Crushing my dreams all crush-ier and dreamy.”

You let out a giggle as he poked your side. “You think I’m dreamy?”

“So dreamy,” he nodded. “Dream girl material right here, loves me, loves our future cat-”

“Loves your sofa,” you added dreamily.

“And before I let you two get a room, please just consider moving in with me?” He begged gently. “Come on, wouldn’t it be so nice? Just you and me, I’d even let you name the cat. Please?”

“I’m not doing it for you.” You conceded. “I’m doing it for Rhubarb and all of the future kisses I am going to get from him on my new couch.”

He kissed you on the forehead. “Okay, I’ll leave you guys alone, I see where I’m not wanted.” He pressed another one on the side of your mouth.

“No,” you groaned, trying to drag him back on the couch. “I don’t have our cat yet, I need someone to shower me with affection.”

He huffed as he sat back on the couch, letting you collapse on top of him, revelling in the comfortable weight of you pressed against him. “Fine, fine. If I must.”

#wilbur #wishing i could write my name on it #wilbuh #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot

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noahl-art · 14 days

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Oh darling, you see when you shared the artworks stacked it's very clear it wasn't traced because the lines don't line up. The match ain't mathing. And oh wow you work in publishing. Rah rah rah for you I guess. You too need to get over the ego and stop trying to act like you know everything. Real artists do this shit all the time. Do you know how many books I have read that's the same fucking plot but different names and towns? 🙄 You clearly don't know how much of this actually happens then do ya? Pick up a book, visit a museum, you'll see. Don't wanna do that? Turn on a TV the same shit happens in movies and TV. Same with music. Hmmm it's like you really aren't as smart as you thing. Go touch some grass.

Oh my sweet sweet love, what a shame you don't have eyes trained enough to see the problem 🥰See every lines are the same. Changing the slightest one of the part of the pose won't change the fact that the rest is traced. 😁... would I even dare to say BADLY traced because the changes makes it a bit bad anatomically speaking.

You know that people doing bad things... doesn't mean it's right and should be done 🙃 Crazy right?? And truly I know how much it happens because I work hands in hands with the legal team from where I work, which has taken done quite a lot of counterfeits of our books 🥰 But truly I don't know what I'm talking about as a publisher. Yeah... I work as a graphic designer but I'm also in charge of publishing and working on making said books, and everything that happens after... Oh what a surprise 🤭 But please try and educate me on authors right and intellectual property 😊 Sorry can't hear you over my very much inflated ego that has me not be able to go through doors without announcing my name in a song. Because truly pointing out that it is wrong and that in my field you could get in trouble makes me so egoistical. And it will actually shock you soooo much... but I'm not against tracing as a form of... TRAINING! ✨I even quite actually encourage to reference artist you like and admire and trace over complex objects to understand them better! Look here is the moodboard I always use because those are artists that inspire me a lot. It is something I always have up on my desktop whenever I work because it helps me remind me what I like about their art and the way they approach things. This is referencing. Which is one of the best thing you can do to grow as an artist. Understanding and taking notes on why you are drawn to someone's art will help you apply some of the techniques and elements to your own things and make them your own by applying your own touch and sensibility. (if you're interested I can give you all the names of the artists of course 😊)

And here is me tracing over a screenshot of the movie Last Days by Gus Van Sant (2005) to train my anatomy skills. (yes the dude is peeing don't mind it, he had very defined scapulas which were very interesting)

See the difference yet? I'm actually using my brain to learn from things. I don't trace mindlessly. I see where the bones and muscles should be from points on the skin, mark them, and from there build where the muscle probably are because I learned where they begin/end how they move and why 😘 Also I'm very rusty and know that it isn't that good (which is why I'm training) so do mind me... oh yeah right I forgot you're not even able to tell apart something traced and inspired, nevermind then. I also did that with real live modeling if you're wondering, so not always tracing 😘 Also these are things that I keep PRIVATE and DON'T POST. And even less PROFIT OF. And if I were to want to post this kinds of things online (which I would definitely not because I don' trace over the art per said personally and will prefer to take notes), I would first go ask the artist to get their permission and if they said yes (and only if they said yes) I would then credit them correctly. And never pass it as my own creation. I really thought a good part of the internet saw the hbomberguy video and took notes that plagiarism really isn't good... guess not then. Also I touch plenty of grass daily thanks to my gardening thanks for worrying ❤️✨ I'm trying to plant basil again this year, hope it won't die like last time 🌱

Have a lovely night anon ❤️

#you did this to yourself #i warned you #i'm kind and understanding until you come anonymously trying to teach me stuff that I've spent almost half of my life working on #also don't try to be sassy with me #nono answers #and nono is pissed off 😊

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ninjadeathblade · 6 months

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Moulin Rouge Discotrain AU (part four)

Summary: (Post-game canon) The Conductor and DJ Grooves agree to finally work on a movie together. They come up with 'Moulin Rouge', a musical drama filled with romance. Over time the two directors grow closer and discover that maybe they don't hate each other as much.

Beginning | Previous | Next

Warnings: Conductor thinking about his dead wife

Word count: 1,063

Author's notes: Heyyyy! Remember back in part one when I mentioned Owlice and Pinguini? Well they're making their debut! They're OCs that I came up with while working on this and will appear a fair bit in this AU so get used to them I guess. The chapters will eventually slow down in how often I'm posting them but I somehow have creativity right now so yeah. Have fun with this part!

Conductor looked up as Grooves walked into his office, a giddy grin on the penguin's face.

"What's got you so pleased?" Conductor asked, putting down his notepad.

"So you know how I said about Pinguini and Owlice?" Grooves replied, waiting for a nod before he continued. "Well, both of them are in today and I thought you could come and meet them."

Conductor considered saying no, continuing with his drafted scene ideas. But he wasn't going to get anywhere with that, he'd known that since he first started jotting more ideas down.

"Well, you said they might be good for the leadin' roles. Go on then, let's go and see them," Conductor said, standing from his desk.

"They're, um, they're actually outside right now," Grooves squeaked, standing in front of the Conductor.

"What? Why?"

"I thought it'd be quicker just to bring them here! But I think Owlice panicked and thought we were going to fire her," Grooves explained shyly. "What should we do?"

Conductor let out a put-upon sigh before shoving past Grooves and opening the door.

An owl and a penguin were sitting together on the floor, leaning back against the corridor wall.

But when the door opened both looked up, the owl scrambling to her feet while the penguin stood up at a slower pace.

The owl, presumably Owlice, wore large wire framed glasses that covered worried looking brown eyes. She wore a white lacy shirt and a small silver necklace hung around her neck.

The penguin, seemingly Pinguini, also wore glasses; but his were heart shaped sunglasses. He dressed like most of the Moon Penguins except for the fact he wasn't wearing a formal jacket. Instead he'd opted for a dark blue hoodie to go over his shirt.

"Alright then, you two had better come in." Conductor gestured back into the office.

Owlice swallowed nervously while Pinguini smiled. Grooves shut the door behind them once all four of them were in the office.

"So, Grooves tells me that yer both quite talented actors. What sections do you work in?" Conductor questioned.

"I- I work in costume design, s-sir," Owlice stuttered, looking on the verge of tears.

"Props. I work on lots of the laser guns for DJ's movies," Pinguini replied.

"Right then." Conductor nodded before refocusing on Owlice. "Lass, you're not being fired, so could ya please calm down?"

Owlice nodded, blinking a few times as she stared at him. "Yes, sorry sir, I was just nervous. If it was that I was going to get fired then I might've cried," Owlice explained, voice breaking slightly.

"Darling, do you need a minute?" Grooves offered and Owlice looked over at him.

"Oh, no, sorry sir, it's fine. I'm- I'm fine now, thank you very much," Owlice insisted.

"Right. As I was saying, Grooves here thinks yer both talented actors. But as I've just found out, neither of you are actually actors. So we'll give you the lead roles for now and see in a few weeks as to how everything is going. All good?"

Pinguini nodded and Owlice did too, albeit with less vigour than the penguin.

"Alright then, off you pop," Conductor dismissed them.

The owl and penguin hurried off and Grooves walked over to the Conductor's desk.

"That was nice of you."

"We need actors. And Owlice was going ta break down if I called her in here for nothin'."

"Why are you so against the movie having romance?" Grooves questioned suddenly. Conductor looked up at him, letting out a sigh as he recited one of Satine's possible lines he'd jotted down.

"I can't fall in love with anyone." Grooves' face knitted with confusion.

"Can't fall in love? But life without love- is terrible!" Grooves protested, holding onto Conductor's arm.

"No, being out of my job, that's what's terrible!" Conductor argued, remembering the few times he had tried romance movies.

He'd lost interest in that area after meeting his wife.

He'd only tried once to make another romance movie and that was after she died. He couldn't bring himself to do it in the end.

"No! Love is like oxygen!" Grooves argued before pausing, beak hanging slightly agape. "Are you crying?"

Conductor sniffed and hurriedly bought a hand to his face, scrubbing it across and catching the few falling tears.

"Nope. Now off you pop. I've got work to do," Conductor stated, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Whenever he thought of her he got upset.

It had been better in the more recent years but it might've been what caused the rift between him and his daughter back when it first happened.

He began to walk towards Grooves and the penguin instinctively backed away towards the door.

"We should be working together, darling," Grooves pointed out as his back hit the door.

"Just leave," Conductor sighed.

Grooves opened the door slowly, lingering in the frame of it as he turned to leave. "You know, if you ever wanted to talk about-"

"Just. Go." Grooves nodded and closed the door slowly.

Conductor let out a sob as he leant back against the door before sliding to sit on the floor.

"Peck I miss you."

Conductor uncurled himself at the knock on the door, standing up and opening it slightly.

"Um, sorry sir, is this a bad time?" Owlice asked, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to another. She held a basket in one wing, covered in a small dark purple cloth.

"What is it lass?" Conductor prompted gently, pushing his problems aside for a minute.

"Mr. Grooves asked me to give this to you," she explained, holding out the basket.

Conductor opened the door a little further, taking the basket from her.

"Thanks. Anything else?" Conductor checked.

"No sir. But everyone is packing up so I suggest you head home soon."

"Will do. Thanks again."

Conductor closed the door, sitting down on the floor again and rifling through the basket's contents.

One bottle of whiskey, two records of music from famous western films, and a couple of tickets for the movie marathon of the first five Annual Bird Movie Award winning films at the cinema.

"You pecking idiot. I didn't want all o' this," Conductor muttered, secretly touched by the action.

He stuck his head back out the door, shouting at Owlice as she walked down the hall.

"Tell him to bring them himself next time!"

#ahit #a hat in time #ahit au #ahit moulin rouge au #discotrain moulin rouge au #discotrain #a hat in time au #ahit conductor #a hat in time oc #ahit oc #dj grooves #ahit dj grooves #ahit the conductor #the conductor #a hat in time conductor #a hat in time the conductor #a hat in time moulin rouge au #oc owlice #oc pinguini

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herbalsingularitea · 1 year

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Holly Jolly (Chapter 5)

Summary - “What’s, uh—what’s going on out here?” He said looking between Holly and the deer at her side. At his voice, Dancer perked up and gave a happy haw when she spotted him. She trotted over to him and pushed her nose against his hair. He grabbed his hat to keep it in place with one hand and patted her cheek with the other.

“Tiny Dancer here showed up about a half hour ago. Looking for you, I’m guessing.”

Pairing - Bernard/OC

Word Count - 4150

Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter

Chapter 5 - I'll Be Home For Christmas

(January 1st, evening)

“We need more dye and plastic pellets!”

“Someone spilled all the liquid latex! Rubber ball production is at a standstill!”

“We can’t go ahead with these moldings until Bernard approves these designs!”

“The lifts in the storage room aren’t working. Again!”

“Someone left three bags of synthetic fiber lying next to the furnace and it’s a melted mess! How are we supposed to sew the animal stuffies now?”

“Where’s Bernard?”

“Tell Bernard I need to speak with him right away!”

“Has anyone seen the Head Elf? This is an emergency!”

His head was spinning as the short blonde elf frantically ran around the workshop helping with what he could and taking notes to give to Bernard whenever he came back from wherever he was. This was a disaster! Bernard hadn’t been there when everyone showed up for work in the morning. He wasn’t in his office. He wasn’t in the workshop. No one had heard a peep from him all day.

This had never happened before, ever, and Curtis was full on panicking.

“Curtis!”

He stopped in his tracks, almost running over the concerned looking Head of the Spirit Department. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and tried to catch his breath. “J-Judy! Where’s Bernard?”

“I was hoping you knew that! I haven’t heard from him since yesterday.”

“Me neither. I can’t find him anywhere and he isn’t answering his messages or even reading them!”

Judy looked scared now. “That’s not good. Have you checked his home?”

“I don’t know where he lives. Do you think he’s sick, maybe?”

“He wouldn’t have missed work even if he was. This isn’t normal at all. We should go check and see if he’s okay.”

He wrung his hands together nervously. “But what about the Workshop! Someone’s gotta keep things going while Bernard’s away.”

A new voice cut in at that moment, chilling them both to the bone. “Too true! Perhaps I could be of some assistance?” Jack Frost called up at them from the lower level, smiling as he strolled up the stairs to meet them.

Curtis looked confused as he took in the frosty legend. “Jack Frost? What are you doing here?”

Judy, however, looked on edge. Her smile was wide, but strained. “He came to check on us before. Isn’t that kind, Curtis?” Curtis nodded nonplussed, eyebrows pinched together. She turned to face Jack. “So you’re staying longer?”

“A spur of the moment decision, but a fortunate one as well since you all seem to be down a Santa AND an Arch Elf now.”

“We were just on our way to retrieve our Head Elf, actually.”

“Retrieve him from where exactly? Surely he didn’t sleep in. That would be quite careless of him, and awfully inconsiderate, don’t you think?”

Curtis opened his mouth, but Judy grabbed his wrist and answered herself. “He’s down south, actually. Checking in with Santa. That’s our Bernard, always on the go!”

Jack looked suspiciously between the two elves. “And you’re going to retrieve him, are you? I wasn’t aware someone other than the Arch Elf was able to” he made a poof noise and wiggled his fingers in the air “sparkle away somewhere.”

“We can’t!” Curtis blurted out. “We’re taking the reindeer, of course. Prancer’s been wanting to stretch her legs, new baby and all. Poor thing needs a break.”

Jack hummed thoughtfully. Silence stretched as the three stood in a stalemate. “I see. Well, if you all need any help, don’t hesitate to ask! I’d hate for you darling little elves to be behind on Christmas.”

The herald of winter clapped his hands with finality and streaked away into the village. Judy’s shoulders dropped in relief and she faced Curtis.

“The Core teams will just have to handle things on their own for now. We need to find Bernard, quick. Follow me.”

Bernard’s home was a cozy little two story in the oldest district of Santa’s Village, Stellaris, and the last house on SC Lane. It had belonged to the previous Head Elf, Raj, who had lived there with his wife and daughter. But now it was just Bernard who habited the cottage.

The Old Workshop was about a block south, renovated into a fresh market that vendors from all over the elf world would come to set up shop and sell their wares. Besides that, it was mostly residential, with big brick and stone houses sparsed here and there and a great lake, eternally frozen and separating the district from the frozen wasteland outside the barrier.

The space hadn’t been properly laid out for the large-scale operation that Santa Claus and his toys had turned into over the years, so the current Workshop had been built along with the bustling shops and apartments in the Downtown Nord district. Bernard had a place he owned right beside the current Workshop, just to sleep in when things were especially busy and he couldn’t afford to be too far away. They’d checked it out already, but he wasn’t there.

Judy pulled out a key and unlocked the front door of Bernard’s cottage, Curtis watching with a raised brow.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not at all what you’re thinking.”

“It’s just a bit unusual for 'just-friends' to have keys to each other’s places, that’s all.”

“Curtis, when you’ve known someone as long as I’ve known Bernard, stuff like that isn’t strange at all. He’s a very dear friend, that’s it. Besides, I don’t swing that way.”

The blonde elf’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh! Uh, no? I didn’t know that about you.”

“Yep. Me and my girlfriend, Belle, have been together for over 600 years now.” She smiled.

“That’s good, I mean, good for you.”

Curtis looked like he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it and shook his head dismissively.

They stepped quietly into the foyer. The house was cold and silent, the coat stand beside the door was bare, and a thin layer of dust coated the pictures on the side table in the entrance hall. It looked like nobody had been here for quite a while. Curtis stepped forward to take a closer look at the pictures. Bernard was only in a couple of them. One was a painted picture with him and Judy dressed in fashions that hadn’t been popular for at least 1300 years. They stood at the same height in the picture, Curtis noted with wonder. Bernard had been so small, his hair a little wilder and his ears a tad too big for his head, but perhaps that was a mistake on the artist’s part. The picture beside it was of a more recognizable Bernard standing beside Raj. Painters back then weren't the best at capturing motion so everyone stood stiffly beside each other, but the twinkle of happiness in Bernard’s eye was telling. The remaining pictures were photographs, some in black and white of various things in the village: Dancer in her stable, Judy and another lady elf with a cup of cocoa smiling proudly at the camera, a candid of Downtown during a Spirit Festival, Betty standing with arms behind her back and a ribbon on her collar.

“Bernard! Are you up there?” Judy called up the stairs, but neither elf expected an answer. He wasn’t there either.

“Judy, what are we going to do? We need Bernard.”

“Let’s just keep calm, okay? We’re no use to anyone if we start panicking. I think it’s time we take this to Elfcon.”

Curtis nodded solemnly. They locked the front door behind them and started the trek back to the Workshop, worry for their beloved boss hanging like a cloud around them both.

Holly was concerned. Her lip worried between her teeth as she glanced over at the sleeping man still laid out on her rug. It had been almost 18 hours and he was still completely dead to the world. She’d tried tip-toeing around and being as quiet and considerate as possible when she first woke up and found him still asleep, but now she didn’t even bother. She had banged pots and pans, cooked breakfast and lunch at this point, and had a whole radio conversation with Dr. Branson. Bernard hadn’t even twitched.

He whimpered a bit at one point, but she’d put a gentle hand on his arm and he’d seemed comforted enough to settle back into a quiet slumber. He hadn’t moved much since then.

He really had been running on fumes. Holly’s heart clenched thinking of how much he must have pushed himself to get to that point. She knew all too well the damage that could be dealt to a body when wrapped up in hustle culture. She was one of the youngest researchers on the team and the only one who had been given a field assignment. That wasn’t for nothing—she’d given blood, sweat, and tears to be here. And a recurrent spinal injury at 24. She still needed to wear a neck brace sometimes and the early onset arthritis wasn’t exactly pleasant either.

Bernard would need to take it easier from now on. She would make him if she had to. This just wasn’t healthy. She was torn between shaking him awake to give him a piece of her mind and just letting him rest for as long as he needed to.

She hadn’t quite made a decision on which she’d go with when she heard a noise outside. She went still as she listened harder and heard the crunching of snow as something walked about her camp, its 4-legged gait distinctly not human.

This was bad. If a polar bear had stumbled into her camp, then this could get very deadly, very fast. She had a reinforced metallic panic chamber for just such an occasion, but it was a tight squeeze for even one person, let alone two. And Bernard was practically dead weight at this point. By the time she hauled him over to the panic chamber, they could both be dead, but she couldn’t just leave him there unprotected either. With grim resolve, she grabbed the rifle propped beside her bed. She had never wanted to have to use it, but she wouldn’t sacrifice her life and Bernard’s. She loaded it with a fast efficiency and cocked it, aiming it in front of her as she approached the tent exit.

She nudged the flap open with the tip of her gun and peered outside.

Bernard felt like an absolute wreck. His whole body ached with disuse, his stomach was hollow, and his head was pounding. He smacked his lips as he blinked fully awake, his throat scratchy and dry with thirst. He stared blankly at the neat bed a few feet away before recognition returned to him. He was at Holly’s camp. He’d passed out after helping her set up cameras and then… he couldn’t remember. It was all just flashes here and there—being wrapped in a blanket, eating something lumpy, looking at the fire, Holly’s concerned face, talking about Raj—Raj! He had told her about his work!

How could he be so careless! He must have been delirious. He told a human about his life. His hands flew up to his sore ears—covered, thank Christmas. At least she hadn’t seen that he was an elf. But how much had he revealed last night? And what time was it? He looked down at his snow globe watch and balked at the display. Not only had he slept the entire day, but no one at the North Pole had any idea where he’d been. He had about 30 messages from Curtis, each more frantic than the last, and a dozen from Judy. The Elfcon team had also sent a few messages asking about his status and he saw that his location had been pinged not 10 minutes ago. He quickly typed a message to Elfcon.

Will return ASAP. Currently with human. Do not engage. - B

The reply was immediate.

Understood. Standing by. - Alpha Team

This was going to be a mess to sort out.

A sudden laugh from outside pulled him from his thoughts and he staggered to his feet. He walked unsteadily to the tent exit and had to stop and catch his breath at the sight before him.

Holly was giggling, a graham cracker held high over her head as she leaned away from an insistent Dancer. The reindeer was pushing her snout into the side of the human’s face, nuzzling with soft snorts that ruffled Holly’s hair.

“Alright, alright! Here!” She said, lowering the cracker so that Dancer could lick it up and start munching. “You’re so greedy, sheesh.”

She noticed him standing there stupefied and a relieved smile overtook her face. “Hey, you’re up! I was starting to wonder if I should radio medical. You’ve been sleeping for ages.”

“What’s, uh—what’s going on out here?” He said looking between Holly and the deer at her side. At his voice, Dancer perked up and gave a happy haw when she spotted him. She trotted over to him and pushed her nose against his hair. He grabbed his hat to keep it in place with one hand and patted her cheek with the other.

“Tiny Dancer here showed up about a half hour ago. Looking for you, I’m guessing.” Holly chuckled at the happy reindeer practically cuddling the groggy man in front of her tent.

“Tiny Dancer?” He asked.

“Her collar—it says ‘Dancer’. I’m guessing it’s her name, right? She obviously knows you.”

“Y-yeah. This is Dancer, she’s a friend of mine.”

“So that’s how you’ve been getting around without a snowmobile, huh? I knew you hadn’t just walked. No one could take the cold for that long a distance.”

He could actually, elves were a lot heartier than humans. The cold didn’t bother them much, him least of all since he'd lived in it all his life. As for distance, elves had more stamina than humans as well. He’d definitely pushed it too far lately, but working a couple days with little food and no sleep wasn’t normally very taxing, so walking a few miles in the snow was no problem for him. But he wasn’t about to refute her conclusions now. Dancer was here, Holly had seen her, so now it was time for damage control.

“You caught me. I didn’t expect her to come looking for me—” he shot an exasperated look at Dancer, “—guess the secret’s out.”

“Is she like a pet?”

“No, like I said, she’s a friend. She just helps me get around sometimes, that’s all.”

“Y’know, you don’t have to be ashamed if you really are a LARPer. Cause more and more you seem like some kind of Disney elven prince or something. I mean, who just goes around riding reindeer? That’s pretty magical, don’t you think?”

“It probably seems that way, but it’s not that strange for, uh, Russians.” He was banking on her not having much knowledge about Russian culture.

Thankfully, she didn’t. “Oh, neat! I’ve heard about Russians and bears, but not Russians and reindeer. Huh, the more you know.”

Holly walked up to them both and ran a hand up the side of Dancer’s long neck, reaching up to scratch at a fluffy ear. “She’s a sweetheart.”

Bernard couldn’t help but grin at the human’s soft coo. “Yeah, she is. She’s my special girl.” Dancer bumped his face affectionately.

Holly’s expression turned more somber, her attention returning to him. “So are you feeling any better?”

“I’ve got a headache and my back’s a little sore, but I’m not as tired as I was. Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“Of course, dude, I wasn’t gonna send you out in the snow like that. You really looked rough. It was pretty terrifying, actually.”

He winced. “I’m so sorry about that. I shouldn’t have come here as tired as I was, that was really irresponsible of me. I don’t even remember what all happened. I hope I didn’t say anything too weird.” He had a searching look in his eye.

She laughed. “Don’t worry, you didn’t say anything embarrassing if that’s what you mean. We just talked a bit about your work at the station. You said you used to be a fancy chef. Which is insanely cool, I gotta say. You’ve done a lot of stuff for someone so young. How old are you exactly anyways?”

“Isn’t it rude to ask someone about their age?”

“I think that’s only a thing with older ladies. C’mon, you can’t be older than me.”

He smirked. “If that’s what you think, then sure.”

“Whaaat? So you’re—“ she squinted, “—nah, you’re messing with me. I’m gonna guess… 20? 21?” Her elbow dug into his side playfully.

He laughed at her nudge. “Yeah, okay, let’s go with that.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible! It’s just a number, y’know.”

“Then it doesn’t matter what it is, right?”

“This mystery man thing is gonna get old.”

“Just like me.” The smirk on his lips told her there was a joke there she wasn’t getting. She rolled her eyes.

“Will you at least tell me more about being a chef? Cause that’s still blowing my mind, to be honest.” Brown eyes were warm with amusement as they took in the eager and curious tilt of her head.

“What more can I say? I made food, good food in fact, not to toot my own horn here.” A puff of white clouded the air, her laugh dry at his cocky tone. “Now it seems I’m always on the go, so I don’t get to cook as much as I used to. Which is a shame because I really miss it sometimes.”

“What was your favorite thing to make?”

“Shrimp étouffée, hands down. There’s something so simple about it, it’s essentially a comfort food. But the way the sweet notes of the shrimp and onion play with the heat of the celery and spices, ah,” his hand swooped through the air, the fingers grabbing at something unseen, “there’s nothing like it.”

She could almost taste it, the words floating in the air like a ballad. His musical voice was just that much more compelling when he talked so passionately about something he obviously loved.

“I’ve never had that before. It sounds amazing.” She sighed with awe. “You’ll have to make it for me sometime.”

Fat chance of that up in the arctic, but a girl could dream. He didn’t call her on the fanciful notion, however, playing along with an indulgent quirk of his lip. “Maybe I will.”

A long moment passed, their shared breath fogging between them, before they both seemed to realize at the same time just how close they’d gotten. Bernard took a half step back and cupped Dancer’s snout in tender hands.

“Dancer and I should probably get going, we’ve been in your hair long enough.” They shared a laugh as, at that exact moment, Dancer swung her head away from him and snuffled into Holly’s hair.

“Yeah, I bet your station is wondering where you’ve been. I’m surprised no one came looking for you, honestly. I would have sent them a message, but Dr. Branson wasn’t sure who to contact.” Her eyes softened. “I’m glad you’re okay now, Bernard. Please try to take it a little easier from now on, yeah?”

His heart thumped in his chest. “I will. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Somehow I don’t quite believe you.” Her lips twisted wryly. “But I’ll let it slide, just this once.” She ducked into the tent and returned with his cloak and scarf. He accepted them with a grateful nod and suited up. He climbed on Dancer’s back and they trotted to the edge of the camp.

“Hey, Bernard!”

He turned to look back at her.

“If you ever need a break from everything, come stop by! Anytime, okay? You’re always welcome here.”

His heart thumped again, harder this time. “I just might take you up on that, Holly Jolly.”

And away they went, leaving a blushing human in their wake.

Tamika grimaced as she watched the Head Elf devour another plate of shrimp étouffée. He’d arrived late that night with Dancer and made a beeline for the kitchens where he cooked himself a feast. There were at least three different kinds of meals on the table and some garlic bread in the oven. The elves on Alpha Team took this in stride as they asked him questions about where he’d been and what happened. Curtis hadn’t stopped hovering the entire time, shifting his weight from one leg to the other and wiping his palms on his trousers every few minutes.

She huffed at Bernard’s vague explanation about getting caught up with the human. He’d passed out apparently, and had been unconscious this whole time. Tamika wanted to send out a team to investigate further and see if this Holly Williams had done something nefarious to their boss to make him incapacitated for so long, but Bernard insisted she had done nothing but help.

“I don’t like it.”

He slurped a saucy spoonful of rice and cut his eyes up at her. “You don’t have to like it. Just trust me on this one, ‘kay? She’s not a threat.”

“Sir, she is a threat. And she’s gonna be a threat as long as she’s so close to the Pole.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that, Tamika. She’s here, she’s got sponsors backing her, it would be suspicious to force her out now.” He licked his lips. “I’ll handle it. I’ve got a rapport with her, so I can keep her nose well away from the village. Just leave it to me.”

“I did leave it to you, and look what happened.”

“Nothing happened, I’m fine.”

A voice cut in from the kitchen entrance. “And I’m very glad you are.”

Judy looked at him with tears in her eyes, taking in his hunched figure seated at the mess table. She rushed over to him and threw her arms around his neck. He caught her small form in his own arms with a grunt.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

“Sorry, Judes.”

Tamika stepped back and started walking away, her head shaking in frustration. “When this blows up, don’t come complaining to me.”

“Noted.”

Curtis shuffled at the edge of the action, looking unsure. Judy pulled away from Bernard and took in the odd way his hat was covering his head. She grabbed it off his head and he gave a groan of relief as his ears were finally free from confinement. “Ugghhh, you have no idea how good that feels.” He shook out his curls and Judy snorted when a few threatened to hit her face.

Curtis cleared his throat.

“Yes, Curtis, what is it?”

The Workshop was behind. Things were in complete disarray. Jack Frost was still here somewhere in Santa’s Village. There was a thick stack of notes clutched in the blonde elf’s hand filled with problems for the Head Elf to look through.

Judy looked at Bernard with a serene smile as he took another bite of shrimp and peered back at his assistant expectantly. Curtis blinked and the corner of his mouth curled up.

“I just wanted to say, it’s good to have you back, sir.”

“Coming to bed, Honeybuns?”

“In a moment, Puddin Pie. There’s just a couple more things I need to do first.”

Noel gave her a sleepy kiss on the cheek in reply and stumbled away to their bedroom. Bernard was back, Elfcon had followed up with him about his whereabouts, and they’d filed an official incident report that night. She didn’t really need to read over it that night, it would still be there in the morning of course, but she had been on pins and needles all day ever since hearing he was missing. She just wanted to know he was okay and the best way she could express that was by making sure the paperwork was in order. It was sort of her love language.

She flipped onto the next page and started reading the general summary from the physician on call who was brought in to perform Bernard’s physical. Everything was fine. He was okay. He would be fit for duty by tomorrow.

The silence was broken by her light sigh of relief.

That’s all she really wanted to know. Tamika was thorough with her 20 page report and most of the info wouldn’t give her any additional insight into Bernard’s wellbeing. But once Betty started something, she had a hard time not finishing it. She sent a silent apology to her snoring partner in the next room and settled into her home office to read the rest.

The fireplace kept the room nice and toasty, the glow lighting up the delicately carved music box painted in silver and gold that lay on the corner of her desk.

#bernard the elf #bernard x oc #tsc #the santa clause #my writing

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neonacity · 2 years

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hey honey !! i have a whole bunch of questions coming up because i just love your stories and can't wait to see what you do with arcane,, first of all, do you plan out the whole plot of a story before writing it or do you just add onto the plot as you go ? and is there anything in particular that you get inspiration from to write such intricate and dark stories ?? and finally (bare with me omg) ik you were torn between who was going to be the romantic interest in arcane (and ofc you don't have to say who because spoiler alot hehe) but have you figured out yet which path to go down ?? on another note though i have to say that your writing has inspired me so much and i admire how unique your stories are from the other pics on this app,, have a good one love xx

Hi darling! Oh no please, i love answering questions like this. I'm actually so glad you asked because i don't think anyone has talked to me about this before but let me try and answer all your questions! 🤞first of all, I'm not really sure if my process will be even helpful, but every time i plot a story, i only have the main turning points of it written down. For example, i say, 'this is how i begin, this is the plot twist, and this is how it will end.' I fill in the blanks from there. More often than not though, like some of my past stories, my outline changes drastically depending on how the writing naturally goes. For Lucid, for example, Taeyong really was just supposed to have a very small role, but if you read it, you'll know how that turned out haha. 😶 so i guess the answer to that is a little bit of both: i plan and then add along.

When it comes to inspiration, it can really come from anywhere. Arcane came to me when i saw a deck of cards and thought the design is cool, Lucid came from the Boom MV and a dark fairytale edit video i saw on Youtube. The most random things like Tiktok videos, a book line, or a song name can inspire me.

As for Arcane's romantic interest, i actually still don't know haha. Usually i have a preference for the 00 liners, but an idea has come to me lately so... you might be expecting a wild card there *and no, it's not winwin* 😏 when i write, i really just let the characters take their own life and build their chemistry with the MC and go from there (that's what happened with Lucid that supposedly had Haechan and Renjun as its main leads tbh lmao) so right now, there is no solid one man standing yet. That might sound weird since i am the writer, but there are times when i go, "hm, maybe i should make this happen right now," and then my initial plot just goes out the window 🤷‍♀️

But thank you for your nice words sweetie! I do try to come up with new plots to the point that they come off as weird sometimes, so i'm really glad that there are people who have started enjoying Arcane. i honestly wasn't expecting the support since it is a little complicated 🥺

P.s. I do take main lead votes for Arcane 😉

#im sorry this is so long but i loved answering it #i am also happy to hear that you somehow got inspired dear!#😭🥲😭#neona!answers #lomlwoo

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rosanna-writer · 1 year

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to make them love me and make it seem effortless (chapter 3)

Summary: When the High Lord of the Spring Court whisks her off to Prythian, it's exactly what Feyre Archeron wants. Her plan: let Tamlin romance her to break the curse and use her proximity to him to pass military secrets back to the mortals. And it works— until a certain other High Lord tries to steal documents she's after.

Pairing: Feysand

A/N: In this AU, Spring is cursed during the War, Feyre is born much earlier, and Hybern reins Amarantha in when she goes rogue.

Back to Rhys's POV for this chapter!

Third chapter is below, and you can also find it here (along with the rest) on AO3 :)

The infighting is delicious.

When I arrived at the battlefield tent designated for negotiations, Tamlin charged me. I winnowed away before he could lay a talon on me. Nevertheless, Hybern and Beron each grabbed an arm and held him back.

I give them a wide berth as we wait for the others to arrive, but I can hear some irritated whispers about "just a mortal girl" and "get your head on straight" and "don't make this any worse than it already is."

In fact, Tamlin makes it easy on me. The rest of his alliance is so concerned with reining him in that I don't actually have to answer any difficult questions about what Feyre is doing in the Night Court. It isn't long before the rest of the High Lords and the mortal queens arrive and the conversation turns to other matters.

I just wish Feyre was here to see it. But perhaps getting to tell her all the details of our enemies shooting themselves in the foot will be the next best thing.

The bond has been quiet since I left. I hope that means she's getting the rest she needs, but with how murky the connection is, I can't be sure.

Around mid-day, I feel a slight shift. It's almost too subtle to notice, but I think she's awake. I scribble a note for her.

Good morning, Feyre darling. Tamlin is seething but it hasn't come to blows. He's managed to keep your name out of his mouth. It's going well.

The note disappears into thin air, but no one thinks twice. Plenty of others at the table have sent similar notes back to their own advisors all morning.

It's quite a while before the note returns with Feyre's addition under my own. Her handwriting is the most hideous chicken scratch I've ever seen, hardly legible at all.

Good to hear.

I add my next message on the next line under it. Did you sleep well? There is talk about handling the sudden influx of mortal refugees fleeing the opposition. Thoughts?

It takes even longer for the paper to return again, so long that I get wrapped up in a discussion of a proposed change from Helion and almost forget that I sent it. But it comes back in that same scrawl.

Yes thanks. The mortal queens should help but won't. Not much use opening up Prythian's borders, they're too afraid of fae. Better to send supplies.

I had suspected the same, but it's good to have Feyre confirm my suspicions. Despite their posturing, the mortal queens have struck me as too self-involved to do the right thing and provide for the newly-freed mortals who will be flocking to their lands. As much as I'd rather not pick up their slack, there are much worse uses for Night Court resources than making sure vulnerable people are provided for.

I send back one more message thanking her and don't think much of it after that. There's a heated argument about redrawing the borders to transfer some of Autumn and Spring's territories to Summer, and the shouting takes my full attention.

But the paper comes back again, and when I see her addition, I nearly drop it in shock.

I never would have guessed my mate was an artist.

On the bottom margin, she's drawn a mountain range below a night sky. It's a remarkable level of detail for something so small, the shading just so. And above the highest peak, there are three stars. It's not just any mountain— it's Ramiel.

I fold the paper and pocket it to keep it safe. We break for lunch, but as much as I want to see Feyre again, there is work to be done.

I find Azriel in the tent we've designed as our headquarters, reading over what I assume are the most recent intelligence reports.

He looks up when he hears me enter. "Are you making any progress?" he says, not bothering with a greeting.

"Some but not as much as I'd like," I say. I'll give the full details later, when I can meet with the rest of the Inner Circle together at once.

"Feyre's father is alive and well. Their fortunes ‘just so happened’ to turn around after she left for the Spring Court," Azriel says.

"Tamlin's doing?"

"Seems like it."

"Is that her only family?"

Azriel hesitates, which tells me that the answer is going to be unpleasant. I brace myself for whatever bad news I'm going to have to relay to my mate.

"Her mother died years ago. She has two sisters who I've been unable to locate."

Even outside the Night Court, all the way in the mortal lands, Azriel can find anyone. Either they're in hiding, or someone else doesn't want them to be found. I don't know what that means.

Before I can answer, Cassian pushes open the tent flap and enters. "Your mate thinks like a general, Rhys," he says with a grin.

“The fact that you think that’s a compliment says more about you than it does about her, general, ” I say.

Cassian laughs. "I'm not wrong, though. She's all backbone."

The respect in his voice gives me a warm feeling. Maybe it's too much too soon, but I can picture Feyre slotting herself into my family, as if she's always belonged here.

"I don't disagree," I say. Cass and Az share a knowing look, and because I have no desire to get into a discussion regarding what transpired over breakfast, I change the subject. "Any new developments this morning?"

Cass shakes his head. "No, I've been in the healers’ tents all morning, trying to visit the wounded and get a sense of morale. Everyone is eager to go home."

"It's too early for me to give you a timeframe," I say. There's nothing I want more than to send my soldiers home, but the ceasefire is still so fragile. With all the yelling this morning, it seems possible, even likely, that fighting could break out again, and we can't be caught flat-footed. I'd like for my soldiers to be home by Starfall, but I don't know if that's realistic.

"Understood," Cassian says.

I nod, and then it occurs to me that Cassian probably has more time on his hands than he has in a while. "If Feyre is interested in training, would you be able to help with that?" I say.

"Do you even have to ask?" Cass says with a grin.

"You should get her a bow. I saw calluses on her fingertips, the kind you get when you shoot without a decent finger guard," Az says.

I think back to how rough her hand had felt when it brushed mine this morning. My mind had been elsewhere, and I hadn't considered what she’d been up to that made her hands like that. But now, I wonder why she spent so much time shooting without basic protective gear. It's one more entry on the growing list of questions to ask when I see her next.

"That's simple enough," I say, and I'm sure Cass is already devising ways to add moving targets to the training ring.

There is more negotiating to do, so I don't linger much longer. The rest of the afternoon devolves into petty squabbles, and it's evident that I'm not the only one at the table who hasn't slept. High Lords can be capricious on a good day, and everyone's patience is thin. We end without much progress.

I sent another note to Feyre, so she's waiting for me in the study when I winnow back to the Moonstone Palace. Her hair is damp, and she's changed into another set of Mor's clothes.

"You look exhausted," she says.

"Hello to you too," I say.

That cloying perfume from last night is gone, and I can properly smell her for the first time. It’s the same scent from my dreams. I wish I could bury my face in her hair and just inhale, but I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate that.

She tilts her head. "Did— Did you just sniff me?"

"You smell like yourself now."

She gives me a look that's equal parts puzzled and irritated. "Gods-damned fae and your noses."

I laugh and lean against the desk, feeling some of the stress of the day fade, just from being near her. Unfortunately, the day isn't over.

"We're meeting with the rest of the Inner Circle soon, but I have news for you," I say.

"You do?" she says and grimaces, as if the only kind of news she can imagine is the bad kind.

"Azriel confirmed your father is alive and well."

I'd expected relief at that, but the grimace stays in place. "Good."

"And your sisters are missing."

"I expected that."

I do my best to stay out of her mind, but I can still feel her disappointment through the bond. "I'll have Azriel keep looking."

"If they want to be found, they'll come to me." I don't say anything, just try to puzzle out what that means. Eventually she continues, "When I left for Spring, we knew it might put a target on their backs. Humans hate fae, plus there was a chance someone could use them to get to me, and then me to get to Tamlin. So they went into hiding, and it's probably for the best that they stay that way for now."

"They would be safe here." I can’t let it go unsaid, but I’m sure by now that she’s aware of this, too.

"I know. If this peace lasts, they'll find me."

I want to pull her close and tell her that I'll fix it for her, but I don't want to overwhelm her further. I feel completely ineffectual, just standing here.

"I'm sorry." It's not even close to sufficient.

"It happens. We weren't close. Can we change the subject?"

She’s staring straight ahead at a spot on the wall, not looking at me. There's a swirl of emotions on her end of the bond, too mixed to really name, but none of them positive. Whatever the story is with Feyre's family, it's complicated. I don't blame her for not wanting to share, at least not yet.

"Of course. Cassian has found himself with more time on his hands. Are you interested in training?"

She turns back to back to me. "Training?"

"To fight. Not that I think your knife skills are subpar after last night."

That, at least, gets her to crack the barest hint of a smile. "Yes. It might do me some good to get outside and hit something."

With an answer like that, Feyre really is going to fit in here. Cassian will be delighted. "Perfect. Azriel said you may be interested in a bow. Because of the calluses on your hands."

At the mention of the calluses, she flips her hands over and starts to pick at them. "The last few months are the longest I've gone without shooting since I first learned. It's how I kept my family fed," she says.

There's another story there, but after how she reacted to the news about her family, it's clear now isn't the time.

"Most Illyrian warriors train with a bow. It's a convenient weapon to shoot while airborne."

When we were younger, Cass and Az both out-shot me during every single target practice session. Something tells me Feyre is also a better shot than me, but I keep that to myself. Better to delay the inevitable ribbing and temporarily preserve my dignity.

"It will be good to get my hands on one again." Her fingers twitch as if she’s already curling them around a bowstring.

"Perfect. Next order of business—"

"How many orders of business do you have ?"

"Two more, and we'd get through them quickly if I wasn't so rudely interrupted—"

I'm cut off by a ball of scratch paper that Feyre flings at my head. I duck and mist it before it hits the wall.

"Prick," she mutters, but she's smiling again and I am, too.

"As I was saying," I say pointedly, "Tomorrow we're going to start teaching you to shield your mind."

Her brow furrows. "Can mortals even do that?"

"With extensive practice, yes. You need a more reliable way to keep me out of that lovely head of yours. I try my best, but the bond seems to amplify you, and you insist on thinking at full volume."

"Alright. And the last order of business?"

"We're debriefing with the rest of the Inner Circle and making a plan for negotiations tomorrow. We're meeting at the House of Wind, so I'll leave it up to you. Should we fly there or winnow?"

"Fly? But you don't—" I unfurl my wings, and my smile just grows wider at her shocked expression. "Why didn't you tell me you have wings?"

"You didn't ask," I say innocently.

"Most people don't have hidden..." She trails off and struggles to find the right word. Finally, she manages to splutter, “Appendages.”

"There's nothing I'd love more than showing you all my appendages, Feyre darling," I purr.

"Prick."

She's faster this time, or maybe with my wings outstretched I have more surface area, and another ball of scratch paper flies through the air and grazes my wingtip. It gets stuck on a talon, and I fling it back at her. She ducks before it even gets close to her.

"You didn't answer my question. Winnowing or flying?" It seems almost too good to be true that she didn't bolt after the flirting, so I half-expect her to reveal a crippling fear of heights because I'm due for a disappointment.

But she says, "Flying."

Once we're at the window, I hook one arm under her legs and the other around her shoulders. She circles her arms around my neck, and the full force of her scent hits me again. I just drink it in for a moment, the feeling of her warm body pressed against my chest and her breath on my neck.

I push off into the air, and her entire body goes stiff. There's a sharp jolt of panic across the bond.

"It's alright, Feyre. I'll go slow," I say softly. I can't hover, but once we're at a proper altitude, I slow down.

If she wants to spend the entire flight with her face buried between my neck and shoulder, I can't say I mind. But there's so much I want to show her, and flying is the easiest way to do it. After a minute, she feels less rigid.

"Can you look down? I want you to see the city," I say.

She tips her head away from me and gives a small gasp of surprise. "It's beautiful."

"This is Velaris, City of Starlight."

"Is there a reason it's on all of your maps and none of Tamlin's?"

I take that to mean she's made full use of the library while I've been gone. Industrious of her, but I wish she'd gotten more rest. "Yes," I say, then explain how the city has been kept hidden for years.

She's quiet after that, and it's peaceful, perfect, just flying through the night air with my mate in my arms. Everything feels right in a way I never knew it could.

After a moment, she says, "That mountain over there, the one under three stars…"

"That's Ramiel," I say, "You might have seen it on the Night Court insignia."

"I haven't. When I was doodling today, I didn't think much of it. It just seemed like the right place for the stars to go. I had no idea it was a real place."

The enormity of that washes over us both. It's terrifying in some ways, how deep this bond goes, the power of it. If it weren't accompanied by the bone-deep, instinctive sense of trust, I think we both might have fallen apart today.

As we approach the House of Wind, Cass and Az catch up to us, bringing Mor and Amren with. The sight of them pulls me out of my thoughts and back to the task we have at hand: updating each other and making plans.

As I set Feyre down, Mor says, "Nice shoes, Feyre. Where'd you get them?"

The peal of laughter that gets from Feyre makes me think that wasn't a genuine question and there's context I'm missing. How the two of them have already managed to have an inside joke is beyond me. But I can't complain at the sight of one more puzzle piece sliding into place, even if the prospect of them joining forces is a little intimidating.

But there's no time to waste, so the six of us head straight to the war room. Mor and Amren give updates on how the rest of the Night Court is taking the news: similarly to Cassian's troops, they're relieved and eager to know when their loved ones will be home. There are no major updates from Cassian or Azriel since we talked earlier.

As I start to describe Tamlin's reaction this morning, I watch Feyre and don't try to hide it. There's nothing but cold fury on her side of the bond. Her face is blank, but her posture is tense.

I reach out with my mind. What's wrong?

He tried to hurt you.

I'd feel the same way in her position, but it's still a marvel that she would care this much. When I recount the rest of the day, she relaxes, along with the rest of the Inner Circle, at the news that the subject of her departure from Spring was dropped fairly quickly. Through the bond I feel her anger melt into something I can’t define until I realize it's a vicious sort of satisfaction.

We debate methods for giving Tamlin reassurance that Feyre is alive and unscathed, but none of us can think of one that will be sufficient proof without putting Feyre in harm's way. Feyre goes quiet throughout the whole discussion. I don't like it, but I don't feel anything concerning through the bond, so I stay out of her head. When we find that we're talking in circles, we agree to move onto the next item on the agenda.

I lay out the concerns that were raised regarding the incoming newly-freed mortals. And that's when Feyre finally cuts in.

"The mortal queens have enough poverty in their lands already. I would know," she says. "They don't care about their existing subjects, and humans would never relocate to Prythian."

"Not even if we carve out room? Have Tamlin, Hybern, and Beron give some of their territory to the mortals as reparations?" Mor says.

All eyes fall on Feyre, who seems to be considering it. "It could work," she says, "But they'd need more than land. Resources until they can stand on their own two feet, maybe some kind of protection. I think it would be delicate."

"It could stretch us thin. Could we manage that and take care of our own?" Amren says.

Feyre bristles, but it's a valid question. Ultimately, my first duty is to the Night Court. "Not alone, but with the other Courts, we could," I say.

"And I could be a bridge," Feyre says, before I even have a chance to ask if she would.

It seems like so much to put on her shoulders, especially when she's untested, but she wouldn't be alone. I can’t devote much time to foreign affairs when there is still so much rebuilding to do, but Mor and Amren are accomplished stateswomen in their own right. They could guide her even if I can't.

"Then I'll see if the rest of our alliance is open to the idea," I say.

We move on and tie up a few loose ends before we break. As the six of us walk back downstairs, the mood lightens. There are celebrations happening across the city tonight, and I'd be drinking and dancing with the rest of them if I wasn't so tired.

"You should go with them if you want," I tell Feyre.

"Not this time. I'm exhausted," she says.

The promise of a next time is so casual, but it means everything. She could stay here and be carefree for once in her life.

My friends don't badger either of us to come out with them, the way they would normally do if I insisted on staying home. As little rest as they've gotten, I think they can tell the past day has been taxing in additional ways for Feyre and me. They say their goodbyes and leave the two of us alone together on the balcony.

"I'm planning on staying here tonight, not the Moonstone Palace, if that's alright. Mor has another set of clothes here too, and Cassian will likely want to use the training ring here in the morning," I say.

"Does Mor stay wherever you do?" she asks.

"She doesn't like to be alone, but I don't think she'll be back tonight." I consider asking her about the shoes but it seems like something that's between the two of them. "Dinner?"

"I promise I won't try to slip you any food."

I think she means it as a joke, but I can't find it funny. Even with the bond, we still have no idea what we can and can't joke about. "Please don't."

I drag a chair out to the balcony along with my food, and Feyre follows suit. There's music drifting up from the celebrations below and more lights glowing than I've seen in a while.

Feyre stares down at it as she eats, a pensive expression on her face. I'm not sure what emotion it is I feel from the bond, but it's not warm or happy. "This is all so beautiful," she says, and I'm not sure what she means. "You're not going to hide the ugly parts of your court from me, are you? Not— Not like Tamlin did?"

"I love my court and my people, but it's far from perfect here. I wouldn't hide that from you, but it seems better to ease you into it," I say.

She pushes some of her food around with her fork. “Tamlin told me about mating bonds because he thought it might snap for him. But he didn’t mention the mating frenzy. He must have thought it would scare me.”

“He’s an idiot. You don’t scare easily,” I say. She keeps pushing the food around on her plate, so I add, “But no, I won’t do what he did. There’s only so much information we can take in at a time, and I don’t see a reason to frontload the worst parts.”

She fixes me with a penetrating look, and says, "Alright." I hope that means she's satisfied with the answer.

We both turn back to the food and go quiet. I'm too lost in thought to really taste anything, but at least for me, the silence feels companionable. After a day of heated meetings, it's like a balm.

I get up to grab wine and pour a second glass for her without thinking about it. When I sit back down, she accepts it with a quiet "thank you."

"I don't want to be in your head right now, but I'll give you a thought for a thought," I say, taking a sip.

"I'm wondering if this is as strange for you as it is for me, feeling this deep connection but not even knowing your favorite color."

"This is without a doubt the most bizarre experience of my life."

She smiles into her glass. "That makes me feel better."

"And for the record, it's dark blue, the color the sky turns as night falls. What's yours?"

"Violet."

"Why?" She shakes her head, and I catch sight of her cheeks flushing before she buries her face in her empty hand. "Feyre..." She just shakes her head again and doesn't look at me. I don't need the bond to know she's embarrassed. Now I'm dying to know, but there's no use in pushing her. "Fine. My turn then. I'm wondering what kind of person calls what you drew today a doodle. It was intricate."

Feyre looks up and shrugs. "It only took me a few minutes. I needed a break from reading."

"How much of an artist are you?"

"Not as much as I'd like. I like painting the best, but we didn't have much money for supplies, so I didn't always get the chance. But pencils are cheap, and charcoal is cheaper, so I'm better with those."

That settles it— I'm taking her to the Rainbow as soon as I get the chance. "The first dream I had of you was your hand painting flowers on a table."

And there it is again, the enormity of the bond between us. It seems we can't escape it, even when we're making idle chitchat. Feyre downs the rest of her wine.

We don't say much else, and I don't remember when the exhaustion finally claims me and I drift off in the chair. When I wake a couple hours later, she's not there. I panic for a half a second until I notice the blanket over my legs and realize she must have put it there.

#acotar #feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #to make them love me and make it seem effortless

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marvelouspeterparker · 3 years

Text

mine

pairing: mob!tom holland x reader

requests: wearing Mob!toms stuff? like maybe his suit jacket but without something under it, to a meeting? + mob!tom goes feral after an enemy flirted with his girl? both by anonymous

warnings: violence and smut

notes: hope you don’t mind that i combined two requests! also check out @geminiparkers mob!tom playlist which coincidentally has this same gif on the page haha + this might as well be dedicated to @duskholland as it is mob monday and she is the queen of mob!tom :)

It wasn’t unusual for you to sit in Tom’s meetings. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. He liked having you as involved as possible, he trusted you with all his heart and he didn’t want to keep you in the dark. He even got you a “throne”, as he called it, to match his in his meeting room. They were two large chairs with intricate and expensive designs on the back rests. As soon as anyone walked into the room, it was clear who was in charge.

Although you had your own seat, you rarely used it. You appreciated it, of course, and when you sat on it you felt powerful, Tom’s hand over yours, his thumb rubbing your skin softly as he barked orders at his men, intimidating every person in the room. You felt like a queen sitting proudly beside her king.

But, as much as you adored your throne, you and Tom both preferred when you sat in your rightful place, in his lap. He liked to wrap his arms around you and hold you sometimes to destress when his men were acting like fools and everything seemed to be going wrong.

Sometimes he would even distract himself, slipping his hands under your clothes, one holding you down as the other made a mess between your thighs. He didn’t care if anyone heard you, and you didn’t either––it was hard to worry about anything else when he had his hands on you.

The men knew not to look at you, only making eye contact with Tom as he spoke, as if nothing were happening. If they did look, they’d be punished. Simple as that. And no one wanted that.

You had just finished eating a snack when you made your way over to the meeting room. You knew that Tom would need your company today, his meeting was with Lorenzo, one of the worst in the business. His actual business was good, and it would be very beneficial to join forces with him, but he was a nightmare. Which is why Tom considered him to be one of his enemies.

The meeting had started a little while ago, but there hadn’t seemed to be any shouting, so you assumed it was going well. You slipped in quietly and noticed Tom perk up when he saw you, but then his eyes trailed over your body and he licked his lips, partially tuning everyone out as he focused on you. You were wearing one of his shirts with a belt tied around your waist, accentuating your figure.

He spread his legs and sat back, waiting for you as you walked along the long table, saying hi to Harrison as you walked by him. You bit your lip and smiled as you reached Tom, his hands immediately pulling you in by your waist. You bent down and gave him a kiss and he smacked your ass before grabbing it possessively, making you squeak and giggle softly.

You sat down on his lap, your body turned into him, your arm hanging loosely around his neck, legs over the chair as you faced the front. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, one arm wrapped around your side, the other on your thigh. “You’re not wearing anything under this, are you?” He bit your earlobe and you could tell he wanted to take you right then and there.

You bit your lip as you looked down at him and that was all the answer you needed. “Christ, you’re trying to kill me.”

You both turned your attention back to the front and you tried not to make a face when you noticed Lorenzo staring at you shamelessly. You took a sharp inhale, knowing this wouldn’t be good––for him. You saw that none of his men were with him, he was so arrogant he often left without backup, stupid, really.

“Y/N,” Lorenzo spoke up, smiling menacingly at you and you felt Tom’s hold tighten. “How are you, beautiful?”

You tried your best not to roll your eyes but your voice was monotone when you responded. “Fine, thanks.”

You could practically hear Tom’s blood boiling as he growled out his next words. “If we could focus on the task at hand, please.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek and felt a little at ease when you noticed his demeanor lighten up a bit. He squeezed your thigh appreciatively.

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, annoyingly confident. “Well I’m just saying hello to the pretty girl in your lap.” He licked his teeth, suddenly perking up and you knew this couldn’t possibly be a good thing. “Tell you what. I’ll agree to the terms.”

“Great––”

“If,” he interrupted, “I get one night with the beautiful lady.”

You tensed, your eyes widening and just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, he went on. “All I need is one night for you to realize how much better I am than him, sweetheart.” He winked, “Promise I’ll have you screaming my name.”

Tom made a gesture so fast you barely even saw it, but before you knew it, two of his men grabbed Lorenzo and brought him over to the other end of the table.

Tom tapped your waist and kissed your cheek and you got the message and slid off his lap. You sat in your chair, your legs curled under you, bracing yourself for what was to come.

Lorenzo still had an obnoxious smile on his face and Tom wanted nothing more than to punch it off. So he did. His arm swung forward with no warning, knocking the man’s head back momentarily as Tom’s henchmen held him up. He groaned, wincing as blood coated his teeth, his skin already red. There was no doubt his nose was broken, Tom trained almost every day and he knew how to use his hands, in more ways than one. His fists kept pounding into the man, beating him to a pulp. No one disrespected you and got away with it. By the time he was done, the man could barely stand on his own.

Tom lifted his head roughly, gripping his hair. “You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.” He looked at him, pure loathing in his face as he fixed his suit nonchalantly. “Darling?” He held his hand out for you, his eyes softening immediately as they found you.

You took his hand eagerly and stood next to him. He looked over to the man groaning in pain, his gaze hardening again as he held his head up. “Apologize.”

When he said nothing, Tom raised his fist again and Lorenzo screamed in protest. “Okay okay! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

Tom dropped his head and stood back, watching him indifferently as he weakly rolled his neck back to lift his head on his own.“Do you accept his apology, love?” His tone was sweet when he talked to you and the shocking contrast in how he treated you turned you on more than it should have.

You let go of his hand and stepped forward. You slapped Lorenzo with all the force you had, your hand stinging from the pain, as he grunted, but you sucked it up. “Fuck no.” You stepped back and found yourself in Tom’s embrace.

Harrison handed Tom a handkerchief to wipe his knuckles and he looked at the two men holding Lorenzo up, “Deal’s off. Take him out of here.” He flicked his wrist towards the door and everyone rushed out, the man’s screams and curses becoming muffled as he was shoved out.

Before the door even shut, Tom threw the handkerchief aside and kissed you, pouring all his frustrations, love and want into it. You sighed and brought your hands up to his hair, loving the way he groaned and pressed himself into you when you pulled at his curls lovingly.

He brought his hands to your waist and pulled off the belt and ripped the buttons open as you sat on the table. “Look at you,” he cooed.You felt your skin heat up under his gaze as he lifted your legs over his shoulders, kneeling down in front of you. When he looked between your legs, he gasped quietly, “Naughty girl, you’re practically dripping.” He looked up at you as he started mouthing at your thigh. “Seeing me defend your honor got you that hot and bothered?”

You nodded unabashedly. “Love seeing you get violent,” you muttered quietly, “It’s my guilty pleasure.” Your hand found it’s way back into his curls, the other holding you up on the table.

He grinned, “Then I guess we’re a perfect match, huh?” He licked into your wet cunt, savoring your taste on his tongue, and you sighed.

“Oh fuck, Tommy.”

“That’s it,” he licked all over your pussy, spreading your wetness and making an even bigger mess as he spit on your clit before sucking it into his mouth, his hands holding your thighs tightly around his head. “Want you to cum all over me. Want you to scream my name, let everyone know you’re mine.”

He buried your face between your legs, moaning as you used him to get off, clearly enjoying himself. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, letting you squeeze your thighs and grind against him, whines and expletives flying from your mouth freely. It wasn’t long before your head dropped back, a long and breathy “Shit––” falling past your lips as you tensed for a few moments before your body went slack, sinking into the table.

Tom stood up and grabbed you before you could lie back though, pulling a small whine from you. He got rid of his belt and unbuttoned his pants before pulling his cock out. He was hard, leaking, his tip a prominent red. Seeing you in his clothes, then seeing you slap the shit out of Lorenzo really did something to him.

He grinned, his lips still shining from your release, and pulled you back into his lap. With shaky legs, you climbed up and slung one leg over him, grabbing his cock and sliding him in slowly. “Oh god––” you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned your forehead against his.

His hands slid up your legs all the way to your waist before one hand slid up to the side of your face. He tilted his head up and pressed his lips against your parted ones, practically inviting him to capture them in his own. “Look at me baby, can you do that? Wanna see your pretty eyes while I fuck you.”

You whimpered and clenched around him making him buck into you and hiss. You opened your eyes slowly, the dazed look in them making him twitch inside of you. You turned your head and kissed his palm before leaning in and kissing him again, practically melting into him, your mouths merging together, your bodies pressed as close as possible as he guided your movements with one hand.

You were grinding into him, too focused on the pleasure to think about the cold room and the fact that you were fully naked and he was still clothed. But you knew if you did think about it, it would only turn you on even more.

His hand on your waist slid down and grabbed your ass, smacking it occasionally as the other held the back of your neck and pulled you into him. The kiss was messy and wet and filled with tongue and passion, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way––you just wanted him.

You pulled away reluctantly to take a breath, panting as you watched each other hungrily. You started bouncing up and down on his cock and both his hands grabbed your ass, slamming you down onto him. “That’s it, princess. Just like that. You know how to take my cock, don’t you?”

Even though the question was rhetorical, only meant to rile you up, you nodded, bouncing faster with purpose, your eyes glued to his, your hands digging into his shoulders as you moved yourself up and down.

He grabbed you, taking charge and thrusting his hips into you with force and speed, your high the only thing on his mind, his not far in tow.

“Want you to give it to me, darling. Can you do that for me?”

You cursed in response, your eyes shutting as you stopped your movements, leaving Tom to hold you up and buck his hips into you, desperately chasing his own release. You whimpered, your body still sensitive as you stared at him, your jaw dropped open. “Cum for me baby. Please. Wanna––feel you.”

His gaze darkened and he came not long after, a loud groan escaping him as his thrusts slowed down and eventually stopped. He pulled you down onto his cock, letting you rest on him and you whined, your whole body feeling like a live-wire.

He ran his hands up and down your back, before sliding down to grab your ass. You arched into his touch and leaned into his chest, purring softly and kissing his neck. When he spoke up you trailed your kiss up to his cheek before pulling back to look at him, your hands on his chest.

“Next time anyone tries anything like that I’m fucking you in front of them, I don’t care who it is. Then I’m beating them to a bloody pulp.” His grip tightened, “It’ll be the last thing they ever see.”

Oh there was definitely something wrong with you, because hearing his threat only made you clench around him. But maybe you really were the perfect match for each other, as he said, because as soon as he felt your reaction, he smiled up at you and you knew from the look in his eyes that you wouldn’t be leaving this room any time soon.

#queue tell em #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland request #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom holland imagine #mob!tom holland fic #tom holland oneshot #mob!tom holland oneshot #mob!tom holland smut #tom holland smut

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spidernerdsblog · 3 years

Note

Hi 🙋‍♀️I have a request if u take them. Cud u write sth about Tom Holland x singer reader and the reader is performing at the Grammys or sth and the performance and song and costume is like really seggsy and Tom gets jealous??? Idk 🤷‍♀️ Sorry to bother u I just love your writing

Sorry this took me so long was at a lack of ideas. I strongly believe Taylor Swift’s reputation deserved a Grammy. So I'm borrowing her album for the reader. Hope you like this.

Pairing : Tom Holland x Singer! Reader

Warnings : angst, fluff, jealousy, suggestive theme, missed typos

Mini Playlist : Endgame by Taylor Swift, There’s nothing holding me back by Shawn Mendes

Baby I'm jealous

You and Tom were seated at the back when your limo pulled over at the venue. You could hear the commotion from the inside even though you have walked numerous red carpets by now but it still seems to be a little nerve racking to you. Especially when this is the first time Tom is accompanying you to the Grammys which is going to be a big deal for the media. The security personnel opened the door and as you stepped out of the car you were flooded with flashing lights from the cameras.

Tom held out his hand for you, you slipped your arm into his and walked with a dazzling smile posing for the cameras “you look amazing, darling” he knelt down to whisper in your ear. In the meantime a lady journalist came forward to ask you a bunch of questions.

“So Y/N three nominations this year, how are you feeling?”

“Well it’s always good to be back here and share the stage with all these talented artists as usual I’m excited and looking forward to the night” you answered.

“We see you have brought company this year” she remarked which had you blushing.

“Yeah, I couldn't think of a better company than him on this very important occasion” you said bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Tom, what do you have to say?” she poses the question to him.

“Uhh I mean she has always been an incredible singer and her songs are the reason that made me fall in love with her in the first place” he replied looking proudly at you.

“Aww you both are adorable. Wish you the best” she said before leaving.

“Thank you so much” you thanked her, walking inside the auditorium and sat on your designated seats. There you were met with lots of your friends from the music industry as you said hi and chatted with them for a while.

“Hey Y/N how are you?!” you heard Shawn from behind as you turned around and went to eagerly hug him. You and Shawn were really good friends from the beginning of your career and you have always been supporting each other’s works.

“I’m good, how are you?” you chirped.

“I’m fine now” he remarked cheekily and went to sit beside you as you started talking catching up on each other totally ignoring Tom. To be honest he was a little annoyed seeing you so over friendly with him but he brushed off his thoughts quickly.

The show began and a few awards were distributed with some performances in between by different artists. You too had to perform for tonight which also included a duet with Shawn and soon your time came as you stood up from your seat to go backstage.

“Best of luck, love” Tom said to boost your confidence.

“Thanks babe” you kissed on his cheek lovingly.

“See you on the stage Y/N” Shawn snickered.

“Oh I’m looking forward to it” you blew him an air kiss and headed backstage to change into your stage outfit. The stage was set and you could hear the loud cheers of the audience from backstage. Truth to be told you always get a little nervous before any public concert but this time it was different because Tom sat there in the audience and you are more excited than nervous to perform. The lights went out and the screen doors slid open as you walked on the stage with the spotlight on you. The notes begin to play as you vocalize striding across the stage with oomph.

I wanna be your endgame

I wanna be your first string

I wanna be your A-Team

I wanna be your endgame, endgame

The crowd cheered as the supporting dancers slowly entered the stage. Tom sat amidst the crowd in awe witnessing you in your full glory. You owned the stage like a queen. He knew you were the prettiest woman he has ever met but the bodycon suit you were wearing accentuated your curves all at the right places.

Big reputation, big reputation

Ooh you and me we got big reputations, ah

And you heard about me, ooh

I got some big enemies

You waltzed around the stage with a sultry look in your eyes, slightly swaying your hips making the crowd go crazy. Tom was very good at keeping his emotions under check but when it comes to you he’s a possessive man so when he heard a few men from the crowd passing comments of how hot and sexy you looked he was fuming from inside. You went on to sing two more songs from your album then transitioned to Shawn’s latest single.

You take me places that tear up my reputation

Manipulate my decisions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

“Make some noise for Shawn Mendes!” you cheered as he emerged from the backstage playing the chords on his guitar and the audience screamed at the top of their voice.

I wanna follow where she goes

I think about her and she knows it

I wanna let her take control

'Cause everytime that she gets close, yeah

He sang with his gaze directed at you which didn’t go unnoticed by Tom who was looking at you both with narrowed eyes and clenched jaws.

She pulls me in enough to keep me guessing (mmm)

And maybe I should stop and start confessing

Confessing, yeah

You joined in singing along the lyrics with him exchanging flirtatious gestures with each other. You encouraged the audience to sing along with you.

Oh, I've been shaking

I love it when you go crazy

You take all my inhibitions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

You take me places that tear up my reputation

Manipulate my decisions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

There's nothing holdin' me back

You were clearly having a fun time sharing the stage with Shawn as you both swayed to the beat with a wide smile and the crowd cheered you on. Tom heard someone saying “they make a good pair” and he completely lost it. Now he was jealous even though he knows it’s wrong because you had always made it clear that you loved him more than anything but you in that ravishing outfit dancing and singing being way too comfortable around each other wasn’t helping much.

Your performance ended after some time and Tom couldn’t be anymore happier. You were back in the audience again as Shawn couldn’t stop praising you “you just set the stage on fire Y/N! It was awesome”

“Oh shut up! You weren’t bad either” you quipped. Tom sat there silently feeling neglected at how you had time to talk with everyone except him. The show ended with you winning the three categories you were nominated for : album of the year, song of the year and artist of the year. You were elated at your achievements as your team escorted you for a photo session. You saw Tom standing at a distance and walked over to him.

“Why are you standing here? Come and stand with me” you said, grabbing his arm.

“No I’m better off standing here rather than being your arm candy” he says bitterly pulling out his arm from your hold.

“What?!” you were slightly taken aback as you looked at him in confusion.

“Hey Y/N!” your manager called out.

“Just a moment!” you told him to wait and dragged Tom to a corner.

“What the hell was that back there?” you hissed at him.

“You know it very well” you shrugged with a disinterested look on his face.

“I-I really don’t understand where this is coming from Tom but are you upset with something?” you were really concerned with his sudden outburst.

“Well isn’t that obvious? When your girlfriend brings you to a public event to treat you like a sidepiece and goes on flirting with her colleagues on stage it is naturally upsetting” he jabbed at you.

“Are you even listening to what you are saying Tom? Everyone here are my work friends just like you have” you retorted in a hushed tone.

“Well it looked more than just friends” he bit back.

“Now you’re being ridiculous” you were totally done with him, fuming at his accusation.

“Y/N come fast!” your manager called you again.

“Yeah coming!” you replied and turned to Tom again “you know what it was actually my fault that I brought you along with me. I thought we were ready to take the next step in our relationship but it clearly doesn’t look like that” you snapped at him and walked back to have your pictures taken. You were stopped by various people, for interviews as well as to congratulate you for your win but you were so annoyed with Tom you couldn’t concentrate properly.

Towards the end of the night, you had almost forgotten about Tom’s comments as you busied yourself into conversations with different people from the industry, sipping on champagne.

As soon as he cooled down Tom was quick to realize his mistake and tried to approach you several times, but you successfully ignored him by preoccupying yourself elsewhere. He eventually caught up to you, grabbing your arm before you could walk away “Y/N, please. Can we just talk for a second?”

“No I don’t think so because I’m quite busy flirting with each and every guy over here” you snapped, turning to walk away. He grabbed your arm again, “Y/N, c’mon love, I’m really sorry” he whined.

You whipped around “not now Tom. We will talk after we get out of here so if you will excuse me” saying so you walked away to be stopped by a reporter for another interview. The after party ended an hour as you and Tom exited the place. You climbed into the limo, quickly putting up the privacy window. Tom climbed in after you, taking a seat glancing at you.

“What?” you scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. You could tell he was really upset with what he’d said earlier.

“Y/N.. I can't even explain how sorry I am” he started “I know I was being a dick back there and I feel terrible about it”

You leaned back in your seat sighing “you know what, I'm really tired. Can we talk about this after we reach home?” He nodded silently in agreement without uttering a single word on the drive back.

Once you got home, you walked through the living room and made your way into your shared bedroom. You sat on the bed taking off your heels and massaged your ankles. After sometime Tom joined you in the bedroom. He takes off his suit jacket and loosens his tie as you stare at him for a second. He looked so good in formal attire which filled your head with filthy thoughts. How you could have celebrated your win in a different way but he had to ruin it by acting out like that.

“Y/N, I truly am sorry. I.. I have no excuse for my behavior. It was completely my fault” he walked over to you, sitting next to you on the bed.

You sighed deeply and stood up walking over to your walk in closet. Your hands went to your back to reach out to the zipper of your dress “I really didn’t expect this from you at least. Of all the people I thought you would understand since you are in the same line of work” you said with disappointment clear in your voice. Tom hung his head low in shame.

“I know babe it was rude and totally uncalled for. I was a fucking idiot and let my insecurities get the best of me” he said with remorse.

“Then just think about how I feel when I have to watch you making out with other women on screen. I never said anything to you. Instead I always supported you and you on the other hand questioned our relationship just because I was singing and dancing with someone else who happens to be a very good friend of mine” you ranted still struggling with the zipper of your dress “a little help please?” you huffed slightly irritated and angry.

Tom bit back a smile as he walked over to you and helped you unzip your dress. He took your hands in his and pecked on them gently “I didn't mean to ruin the night for you” he apologized, looking down at your hands.

You pulled out your hands and crossed your arms “well it wasn’t that bad given that I won three Grammys but I wished you were there by my side” you said completely forgetting that you were standing there in just your strapless bra and very tiny pair of lace underwear.

Tom was eyeing you the whole time with a known smirk plastered on his face. You noticed that and looked down at yourself “oh, c’mon. I’m trying to have a serious conversation here!” you scoffed, throwing your hands in the air. You shook your head in annoyance and grabbed the black silk robe, tying it around your body.

Tom was broken out of his trance as he walked over to you, placing a hand on your cheek “Y/N believe me I’m really sorry. I wish I could take back all the horrible things I said to you. You didn’t deserve any of it. Sorry for being such a jerk to you”

Your expression softened as you held his hand gently “well I’m glad to hear that. And even if I try I can’t stay mad at you for a longtime so apology accepted” you said with a smile.

“Thank you darling it would never happen again I promise” he says stroking his thumb on your cheek bone as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips “and I mean it” he stated a hand reaching up to untie your robe as your robe fell open, your breath hitched “though it was slightly your fault too, how do you expect me to not get jealous seeing you with someone else looking so bloody gorgeous in that outfit?” he hooked his index finger under the silk on your shoulder, pulling the robe down slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin “but I’m really sorry” he whispers in a husky tone.

“Then prove it” you looked at him challengingly, a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without any further delay Tom crashed his lips to yours effortlessly lifting you up by your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

...........................................................

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland smut #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland fluff

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hanazou · 3 years

Text

matching onesies with him.

Books : Dazai | Chuuya | Oda

Shelf : Mixed

Genre : Fluff, domestic

Note : I did this of my own accord because I am, in fact, a softie

Dazai Osamu

This clingy crackhead.

Dazai will be the first to come up with the idea. It's actually a random one and he asked it so spontaneously, he doesn't expect you to actually say yes.

"Sure, why not?" You agreed.

He's both surprised and elated, and he didn't hide this reaction at all.

"Oh, darling!" He wrapped a hug around your neck. "You always revive my heart with your love!"

You both will be enthusiastic about picking the onesies and agree to surf the net instead of looking from shop to shop since Dazai is under the supervision of a certain angry Kunikida

It almost feels like babysitting. Not that you hate it right? Should you get an identical pair with different sizes? Or complementary ones?

Dazai will call the customer service to ask if they have black crow onesies since crows represent death in some cultures. The response is obviously no and it's obvious that the customer service was confused.

"That's a shame," Dazai whined disappointedly, shoulders dropping. "Wouldn't it be both cute and poetic if we had a double suicide while wearing matching crow onesie? Two achievements in one!"

At that point you wouldn't even be surprised anymore. You will just take the phone away from him to apologise and thank the customer service. You have to convince Dazai that you won't find a onesie of that kind

"Wait, don't tell me," You stared at him. "The reason you want to get onesies is just to wear a matching crow pair?"

"Is it?" He grinned mischievously. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong, but I just want to match with you."

Other ADA members will wonder what you and Dazai were doing, Kunikida the most. He isn't exactly curious, more like suspicious. What's that good-for-nothing Dazai up to now?

Eventually you find a pair of identical ones. Kind of rare designs too! Guess what?

Crabs! In red! The little eyes on the hood!

It will take less than a week for the onesies to arrive in a small box. When it does Dazai will pull out a cutter so energetically Atsushi will think he's going to pull a suicide attempt with it

"AAH! Dazai-san! No!"

Nothing will happen aside from Dazai stabbing the box (while making sure he doesn't cut the onesies inside. he's good with blades, ex Port Mafia and all)

The crab pincers for your hands are soft like mittens and so smooth???? Imagine sweaterpaws but with crab pincer mittens (!!)

It will take everything in you to stop Dazai from wearing it that instant since a client Fukuzawa talked about will be coming. You will need Atsushi's help to take it off him but let's not talk about it

Both of Dazai's legs are already in the onesie too..

It seems like Kyouka wants one. Yosano and Naomi will tell Atsushi to buy the girl one and match with her

When Dazai and you go home together, he will be so excited to wear the onesies immediately. Dazai will be light on his feet.

And when you finally put yours on? Pictures. Dazai will take lots of pictures of you. You're a piece of art and he wants pictures so he can recall the image anytime

"Oh, dearest~ How is it possible for you to be so cute?" He began his dramatic poses, a hand over his head while spinning like a ballet dancer.

You both will take a lot of couple pictures.

"Love, you are so adorable I want to eat you!"

"Is it me who's cute or the crab?" You teased back.

When Dazai makes a troubled expression to answer your question, you will have to pinch him 💢

If you can cook crab soup, wouldn't it be funny to make and eat one with Dazai while wearing crab onesies? He will be so clingy when you do it, like an old school married couple; when you cook, he'll be bugging you while hugging from behind. It feels cozy, don't blame him

You have to be keen with your eyes so you won't miss Dazai secretly pouring ajinomoto to the soup. Get him a healthier diet, I'm begging you.

"Look, the crab is red like us." He pointed at the soup. "And like your face when I do this." He took advantage of you turning your head to peck your cheek.

He will also pinch your nose with his pincer mitten. "Boop!" It's a challenge. Boop his nose back.

You think he's already as clingy as he can be, huh? Wrong. You are absolutely wrong. If he previously sticks around you like a magnet, this time he's glued to you.

Even in the shared living space, he won't let you go. Is it the softness of the onesie under his touch, the warmth, or your cuteness? Well, it's all of them. What then?

Snuggles.

You both cuddle together in the futon until falling asleep together. You feel twice as warm.

He's the big spoon, let him feel the smoothness of the onesie while feeling your heat. And for once, the double suicide joke stopped for the rest of day. That's how much this impacts him, and you're proud of him.

Nakahara Chuuya

Matching with Chuuhuahua in a onesie? You lucky fella.

You have to be the one initiating it with Chuuya. Baby boy will be like "Eeh?" at first. He's not against it at all but more like, confused. The request is out of the blue

"Come on, why not?" You tilt your head. "It will feel so soft to cuddle with?"

That's it, that's the spell for him to agree

Mans is a Port Mafia executive, you can't go out from shop to shop in a mall to get your onesie with his schedule, so you have to settle with online shopping with this guy too

Only when he has time to spare from beating up people

You will sit together on a couch at the headquarters once Chuuya and you don't have missions. It's a good chance to relax and unwind together too

Chuuya knows best where to find clothes, including onesies. There are so many options! Dinosaurs, frogs, bears, Sanrio characters, Doraemon, Pikachu, Line characters, pandas, unicorns, penguins!! (I should stop fantasizing Chuuya in each of them)

Chuuya will act cool and chill about it at first, but he actually got invested in choosing and thankfully he isn't a crackhead unlike a certain someone

He has a good fashion sense I don't accept criticism, and this side of him will jump out while both of you scroll the catalogue. He nails both street wear and mafia outfits daily, so you can bet he'd pick the best onesies for you both

"This one doesn't suit you," He moved to the next option. "These are the only colours available? Pass.", "What's with the unnecessarily long tail?", "Oh maybe this? Wait, I don't like the stripes."

Of course, he will listen to your opinion too but since you feel he's better at this, you just either nod or shake your head with him

You have to be careful with your words when picking the size (this is much more valid if you're taller) or he'll go "I'm not that short!"

Kouyou and Mori (+ Elise) will catch you both on the couch together while browsing, comfy and all, and Kouyou asked what you two were doing. Chuuya's face will be as red as wine.

When you want to explain, his gloved hand will cover your mouth and he frantically shakes his head, screaming "Don't!" silently.

But alas, while you want to tell him there's nothing to be embarrassed of, Kouyou will take the phone from your hand with a curious grin and a "What's this~?"

Chuuya will just accept fate at that point, growling to himself and all

Kouyou and Mori won't expect to see a catalogue of onesies, apparently. The "Huh," on their faces are hilarious, and Mori will be instantly inspired to get a full set for his Elise-chan, much to her distaste.

While Mori and Elise are going at it, Kouyou will actually share her opinions. Chuuya will crawl out from his burrow of embarrassment and listen to her with you.

"Rather than identical ones, these would be much better. They have variety." Kouyou said. And you both will agree. You both have been eyeing a specific pair anyway

You both will decide to get complementary ones! Chuuya's will be a brown teddy and yours a white bunny! (Try googling Line's Brown and Cony, they're cute you won't regret it) Kouyou will totally agree with the decision.

When the package arrives, both of you will open it together. Chuuya's eyes for clothes are never wrong, the quality is immaculate. So warm and smooth, not a seam out of place.

Imagine the blush on Chuuya's face when you put on the white bunny onesie. The bunny ears on the hood! The fluffiness! His flustered face!

He will be slightly hesitant to put his own on, but when he does, you swear you can die from the cuteness. Want to see more cuteness? Tease him about it, and maybe he'll tickle you down until you're too breathless to tease him.

Chuuya doesn't want to say it explicitly but it does feel really comfortable, it's suitable for winters too.

As usual, Chuuya will be the big spoon. You will melt into his warmth and the smoothness of his onesie, and you can tell he's enjoying it too, from the way he'll drag his hand all over you to feel the smooth fabric

"It's a good thing we listened to ane-san's suggestion, hm?" You asked. "I didn't exactly like the matching penguin pairs."

"Yeah, this isn't bad at all." Chuuya admitted, snuggling his chin into the crook of your neck. "You're so warm."

Oda Sakunosuke

First off I'm Odasaku's lover before I'm anything else.

When the weather gets cold, it's your idea to get onesies for the kids. They could use some cute onesies to sleep in.

Unlike Dazai and Chuuya, Odasaku will have time to spare to go shopping with you. Being the handyman of Port Mafia has its good sides, after all.

The atmosphere is identical to a date! You both meet up at evening after work, have a simple dinner first, then start the shopping. Shopping for the kids' onesies with him makes you feel like a parent doesn't it?

Odasaku and you will make sure not to pick flimsy, thin, or rough ones. Only the best for the kids. Both of you put your keen eyes to use, examining every considered piece

Odasaku and you will definitely discuss whether to get five identical or different ones. After considering that the kids have different personalities, choosing different pieces will sound more ideal. You both will grant them the liberty of picking themselves.

"We just have to make sure they don't fight over it." Odasaku said.

Lion, dinosaur, piglet, panda, and penguin. That's what you both will choose!

Odasaku is a man who doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeves, so you relied on his eyes when it comes to him. You will see love and sincerity. He picks each piece with careful consideration.

The store clerk will throw an unexpected (yet clichéd shoujo) question at you both. "You picked such good choices. We have sets for adults too, why not match with your children?"

Odasaku and you will widen your eyes. First of all, parents? And match? Both of you stare at each other in confusion. Should you get two get a pair for yourselves?

"Why not?" Odasaku eventually said.

Odasaku's will be a brown dog and yours a white cat (remember that one official art of Odasaku with puppy ears? <3)

Odasaku and you will immediately visit the kids and give them their onesies. Their excitement in picking one for their own made you smile, and you can see the joy in Odasaku's eyes when the kids thanked him and you. He doesn't smile, but you don't need him to just to know he's glad his children love your pick. The way he pats their heads already speaks volumes of love.

Thankfully no kid wrestled to get what they want. You were especially concerned Kousuke will compete with someone

Odasaku will bring a secondhand polaroid he once bought at Yokohama's flea market to take pictures of the kids. You will herd the children to gather for the picture while Odasaku looked for the right angle in the other side of the room.

"Why don't you stay there for the picture too?" Odasaku asked you, half of his face behind the camera.

You kneel behind the kids and put your hands on Sakura and Yuu's shoulders, the ones who stood on the far left and right. That much is enough to warm Odasaku's heart, but when you too, smile for the camera, he freezes for a while to take the sight with his eyes

The picture comes out nicely. You will end up convincing Odasaku to take more but with him in it, together, all seven of you. You would need the curry diner owner's help to take the picture

"Sakunosuke, smile, will you?" You held his shoulder while you both kneeled behind the kids for the picture. He would be a little stunned

He smiles, but it was faint. Nevertheless, you recognise the content in his eyes in the photo, and it's enough.

When it's just the two of you in the living quarters, you will have to remind Odasaku that he too, bought a onesie. He will gladly put it on him since you look so eager, he's curious how it feels too

Your heart stops when he put on the hood with the puppy ears. You will have to fight back the urge to attack him with cuddles right there and then when his confused and innocent face matches the onesie so much!

"You're adorable," You smiled half teasingly, taking in the look of confused Odasaku who looked down at his onesie. The weight of the material felt right, it's like a cozy blanket.

"Try to put yours on," He says. When you did, his heart also missed a beat. The kitten ears on your head! The pure snowy white on you!

Odasaku is a bear hugger and when he hugs you, his embrace will feel tighter than usual. It's no surprise, he likes you and cats, and the way you interacted with the kids that day played tricks on his heart. You hug him back and ruffle his head while he mumbles his thank-you's at you

That night's sleep will be filled with nothing but cuddles of love and adoration. Yes, Odasaku is the big spoon, but you will also hold his arms tighter around you as you both drift into the night, chatting about life.

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

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In the Backyard Catching Fireflies (Hoodie X F!Reader X Masky)

In the Backyard Catching Fireflies

[Hoodie X F!Reader X Masky]

[Warnings: slight blood]

You honestly could have dreamed you would be in this type of situation if you were looking at this from the lens of last year's Reader. It was a mistake to even make contact with them to begin with.

As a child, your mother would often bring you into the woods to look for fun things: flowers, mushrooms, rocks, sometimes bones or pieces of trees. Other times, she brought you out there to practice her own magick, other days it was just to spend time in nature, and every other time than those reasons was just to spend time with you, her one and only beloved daughter. The correct term would be ‘witch’ but your mother never actually called herself one. Magickal practitioner, maybe, but never a ‘witch.’ You, on the other hand, absolutely took that term with pride.

You being a witch was what accidentally caused you to meet them to begin with. One evening, while out and about in the forest on the edge of town where you looked for fresh violets to eventually make violet syrup for your daughter’s ‘magical creature tea party,’ you found your favorite stretch of woods filled with the scent of blood. How strange, and it didn’t strike you as an animal’s blood. No, this was much stronger, more metallic, and carried the weight of sins past in its wake. As you looked around the forest to see what on earth was causing the terrible scent, you saw two men get spit out in between the trees. They flailed for a moment before getting tossed onto the forest floor, looking so much worse for wear.

“Oh my gods!” You exclaimed in surprise as you began to run over to the two, wondering if they were okay. You drew cautiously near them, only momentarily pausing to grab a large stick from the ground should they pounce when you finally got close enough to see their faces. How peculiar - their faces were covered. The one in the yellow hoodie had a ski-mask with a frown etched onto its surface, and the one in the tan coat was donned with a white mask with feminine features.

Your eyes flicked down to their midsections - that’s where the blood came from. They’re out cold, and you confirm that by trying to get them up. No dice. Against your better judgement, you load them onto your little wagon and bring them back to the car. It wouldn’t be right for you to just… leave them to bleed all over the forest floor.

You entered back into your house around the early evening, tired from trying to drag two grown men much bigger than you into your garage and set them up so you can work on them.

“Mommy?” Your small daughter’s voice piped in as she popped her head through the door leading to the garage where you were. “Who are they?”

“Got hurt,” you replied. “Can you get me the first aid kit?”

Your little girl smiled widely and nodded before she quickly zoomed back into the house. “Make sure to get the lavender and rosemary oil too! Can you do that for me, Magnolia?” You called out.

You heard your little girl running around as if she went back to get something. She eventually came back to the door, her arms full of things she thought you needed and the things you actually needed. “Thank you so much, baby,” you said with a small smile, petting her head as she put the things down on the table for you. “Go upstairs and watch some TV for me, okay? I don’t think I want to overwhelm our guests.”

At the sound of being able to watch more spongebob, she zoomed off and allowed you to get to work.

You mentally asked the two men before you to forgive the intrusion as you lifted their shirts to get at their wounds. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen something like this before. Is that… Are those claw marks? You dab a piece of cloth with some isopropyl alcohol and move to the white masked man and get three of the four lines cleaned when he awoke. His eyes shot open and his hand was gripping painfully tight at your wrist.

“Who the hell are you?” He asked in a panic, struggling to get you off of him in his half awake state. “Where are we?”

“Woah!” You cried out as you attempted to wriggle your hand free from his grasp. “I’m just cleaning you up-”

“Where are we?” He’s rattling off questions so fast and so loud that it wakes the second one up.

Due to you not being able to hold him down as well, he was able to pounce up and pin you to the ground, ready to end your life.

“Agh- stop!” You cried out in shock. “I just wanted to patch you two up!”

The man in the ski mask looked into your eyes for any hint of lying, or deception only to find none. Still, you were a normal person getting involved with two proxies. That in itself warrants death according to their society’s rules - and the Slender Man’s will.

“Wait,” the man in the white mask sighed. “Let her finish this up. You’re bleeding out on the floor.”

On cue at his comrade’s words, Hoodie glanced down to his midsection. He was indeed bleeding out on the garage floor and by extension, you. Realizing he was in no state to even consider inflicting damage, he relented.

An awkward silence quickly built up once you were back working on them. “So… What’re your names?”

“Hoodie.”

“Masky.”

“Interesting names,” you noted as you continued to work. “I’m Reader.”

“Interesting name,” Masky mirrors.

You laugh slightly.

That wasn’t the last you saw of the two men. They left almost immediately after being patched up much to your chagrin, but came back about a week later to properly thank you.

“We noticed some spell books in your garage before we left,” Hoodie began before nodding for Masky to go to the back of the car (they stole). “One of them being florals and it looked like you had some space in the front of your house. So, we brought you some flowers.”

You move your vision from over Hoodie’s shoulder to see Masky holding planters full of flower’s you’ve never even seen before. “Oh my gods,” you said in slight surprise as Masky places the small bushes down in front of their designated spots.

“We can plant them for you - or if you don’t like them we can-”

“No, no! They’re beautiful and the front lawn needs some color,” you beamed, looking at the array of colors dotting your front lawn. “How did… Where did you even find those?”

“We know a guy,” Masky said as he went back to the car to get a shovel.

You ended up going out there to help them plant the flower bushes and spent some more time in their company while you worked.

“So, tell me about yourself,” Masky said as he began to carefully place one of the shrubs into the dirt.

“Too broad,” you teased slightly.

Masky rolled his brown eyes. “You and magick.”

“My mother practiced, now I do,” you replied as you gently scooped back some of the dirt. “Most of it is home related work, but these plants are such a big help.” You took in their sweet scent. Come to think of it, you don’t think you’ve ever seen these types of flowers before anywhere. “What about you two?”

“Travelers, of some sort,” Hoodie piped in. “Never stay in one place for too long.” He glanced over to Masky to continue.

“That’s pretty much it,” Masky whistled slightly. “Used to be film students. Now we just… Go wherever the winds take us.”

From there, you began to hear stories from the two. Mostly little adventures they’d gone to, creepy towns they never wished to visit ever again, people they wished they stayed in contact with and everything and anything in between. It was actually rather nice to talk to other adults - and while they were relatively quiet about their past past, they seemed at ease talking with you about these things.

In return, you told them about other memories and anecdotes in your life. Small memories of climbing up the mountain with your mother, meeting your friends, your academic adventures and what brought you out to this part of the country.

“Wanted to get away from it all, I guess,” you said as the three of you sat on the front porch. “Figured it would be better to start again out here than face everything that had happened back there.”

Hoodie shared a look with Masky for but a moment. You hadn’t gone into detail about what happened back then, but they could somewhat fill in the lines with their experience of the world so far.

They came by plenty of times after that - sometimes together, sometimes not. Most of the time they stayed on your porch with you, chatting away about the day’s events and what would come next. You told them about your job, a teacher’s assistant to middle schoolers, and how you often passed your time. They eventually showed you their faces - and lord were they handsome - and still refused to tell you about their actual work.

“It’s dangerous, that’s all you need to know,” Hoodie had said one night while sipping a beer bottle.

Yet, they seemed to come by even more than usual when they met your darling little girl, Magnolia. Somehow, they’d managed to avoid her and her them throughout all their visits, but one afternoon near the beginning of the school year, that all changed.

She’s only 7, and the school bus often lets her out about a block from your home. You trust her enough to walk there and back (though another part of you wants to hold onto her forever and never let go).

“What time is it?” You hummed, sipping at your iced tea.

“About… 3:30, why?” Masky asked as he looked at his watch.

You immediately perked up. “She should be home soon,” you said eyes wandering from the two men on the steps with you towards the direction you knew your little girl was going to be coming from. And just like clockwork, there she was.

“Mommy!” She cried out, a large smile on her face as she began to run the rest of the way to the front steps.

“Mags!” You giggled as you maneuvered your way through the two men before hurriedly meeting her half way. “There’s my special little girl,” you laughed, taking her into your arms, picking her up and spinning her. “How was your day?” You ask, carrying her in your arms as you make it back to the front porch.

Masky and Hoodie move aside slightly as you sit back down with Magnolia on your lap.

“It was so fun! Today, we talked about bugs!”

“You did?” You asked as she nodded rapidly. “Tell me all about it while I get you something to drink and a snack, okay?” You said as you put her onto the steps before standing and opening the front door - and propping it open so you could still hear her and see her from the kitchen.

“We learned all about butterflies and what happens when they’re babies and become pretty,” Magnolia began to explain. “And then Miss Honey said we were gonna get caterpillar babies in our classroom and release them later. And then, she told us about bees and how bumbly they are-”

You listened to Magnolia go on about her lesson with a small smile as you fixed her some iced tea and apple slices. You could listen to her all day. When you failed to answer one of her questions, you heard Masky picking it back up for you.

“Hey Mommy? Why is the sky blue?”

A beat of silence because you honestly didn’t hear it.

“The atmosphere,” Masky began as he looked up at the perfectly azure sky. “You know what the states of matter are, don’t you?”

Magnolia nodded. “I do! Solid, liquid and gas,” she answered.

Masky smiled back and nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. Atmosphere is air and it covers the whole earth like a blanket,” he explained.

“It does?”

“Absolutely,” Hoodie chimed in.

Magnolia looked in between the two men with stars in her eyes, urging them to continue.

“The atmosphere changes the way that light from the sun reaches us,” Masky continued. “Light comes to us in wavelengths,” he moves his hand up and down like ‘waves’ to show what he means. “And those wavelengths look different depending on what they hit,” he claps his hands together, “and how long they are.”

“Do shorter wave… wavelengths show different colors?” Magnolia asks, clearly enamored in Masky’s teaching.

“Smart girl,” Masky chuckled softly as he ruffled her hair.

You finally come back from the kitchen with Magnolia’s snack and drink, more than pleased to see how well Masky and Hoodie were doing with her. Magnolia was admittedly a shy girl - she never really warmed up to people easily, especially not men given the situation with her father (who you’d rather not think about most days).

“And what about rainbows? Are those wavelengths?”

Both Hoodie and Masky laughed slightly before entertaining your daughter’s question as she sipped on her drink and bit into the apple slices. You watched with a small smile as you listened to the three talk.

After meeting Magnolia, Hoodie and Masky were more often at your house than not. And it carried on like that throughout the school year.

Masky often helped Magnolia with her science and math when you didn’t (feel like it).

“Mhm, and how many do you need to add to 5 in order to make 9?” Masky asked, eyes

glancing between your daughter and her math worksheet.

Magnolia smiled widely, “It’s 4.” She said it so confidently that you felt your heart burst from the living room.

“Good job,” Masky smiled back just as widely. “I’m sure you don’t know what you have to add to 8 to get 15, do you?”

“7!”

“Gods, you are so smart,” Masky chuckled warmly, hand once again ruffling her hair.

Hoodie was much more inclined to help with her reading and language arts skills. Seemed he had a knack for those things over math and science anyways.

“Spell bridge.”

“B-R-I-D-G-E.” Magnolia said with a grin.

Hoodie nodded. “Alright, how about… Believe?”

Magnolia furrowed her eyebrows slightly but gave a stab at it anyways. “B-E-L… I-E-V-E.” I before E, right?

“Good one. And laughter?”

“L-A-U-... F-no… G-H… T-E-R?”

“Nice job!” Hoodie complimente in an excited tone, scooping Magnolia up onto his lap making her burst into a fit of giggles. “You are seriously gonna kick everyone’s butt at the spelling bee on Friday.”

While they grew closer with your little girl, you noticed they had also grown oddly close with you as well. It came in little bouts - sometimes Masky would be cuddling with you on the couch while you watched the late night news. Hoodie would sometimes spend time with you in the garden and help when he didn’t have to - he was there just because he wanted to be with you. There were some days when they’d get you little trinkets, plants and herbs to help with your magick. Masky would even remind you of the full moon so you could put a jug out for moon water - and Hoodie would inform you of when the planets were in retrograde to potentially explain any odd behavior (remember: mundane of magickal.) They were helpful. Other times the three of you would spend the day together and eat brunch and act like your own individual family unit. And in your own unique way, you were - what with Magnolia now referring to the two men as her ‘aunt Hoodie’ and ‘uncle Masky’ much to the former’s original hesitance to accept that title.

It wasn’t just you feeling this way either, it was both of them as well. Masky was surprised to see how fast Hoodie had grown to care about you as Hoodie doesn’t really care about anything anymore. Maybe himself, definitely Masky, and definitely the other two in their group - but that’s it. To care for a human and her child… That’s admittedly out of pocket for him. They’re not sure what exactly to call it, maybe it’s love, but it’s a different kind of love. One that doesn’t have a name.

Ever since they entered your life things have been better. Life has been sweeter. Your little girl is more outgoing than ever and she’s finally coming out of her shell with not one, but two positive male role models.

And that led to now. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon and the stars were coming out to play. Magnolia was about to go on summer break - and the four of you had been planning on visiting the beach sometime soon. There were a lot of things to look forward to (another magical creature plus aunt Hoodie and uncle Masky tea party) being one of those things.

“Careful with the jar, Mags,” Hoodie said as he handed Magnolia a good sized mason jar to her awiting hands.

“I will!” Magnolia said before she zipped outside the backyard.

“Masky, you want anything to drink?” Hoodie called out from the kitchen as you got together the materials for s’mores.

“Lemonade, if we have it,” Masky replied.

“Good choice,” Hoodie mumbled before turning to the fridge.

After the two of you had everything you needed, you and Hoodie went out to the backyard and started to set everything up on the glass table Masky sat at. You settled into your seat as Hoodie got a fire going in the pit and when that was ready, he let it burn and took a seat at the other side of you. With Masky to your right and Hoodie to your left, you felt an odd sense of peace.

“It’s a nice night, yeah?” You hummed out in content as you watched your baby dance around with the fireflies.

“It sure is,” Hoodie agreed, hand lightly resting on top of yours.

“Ditto,” Masky smiled, arm now around your shoulders.

In the grass, Magnolia giggled as she caught fireflies, admiring how beautiful the flashes of green looked as they danced through the swaying leaves of grass.

#masky #hoodie #marble hornets #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #mh #reader insert #x reader #masky headcanon #hoodie headcanon #marble hornets x reader #fluff

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bluemoondust · 2 years

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Yandere! Danganronpa OCs ::Part Two::

Here is part two! After writing these out, feel free to ask anything about these characters based on both parts!

Warning(s): Stalking (following darling around and videotaping), Manipulation, Guilt Tripping, Slight Delusional Thinking, Smothering Behavior, Slight Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Talk of Injury/Violence (not towards darling), Overprotective Behavior, Hints of Murder (not darling), Kidnapping, Mentions of Punishment (Isolation, Spanking, Refusal of Food)

Ayukawa, Kai (Ultimate Videographer)

Major stalker alert. People always made nasty assumptions about Kai's personality and intentions and maybe they were right in this case but he wouldn't let them know that. He didn't show interest in you at the beginning; seeing you as only an assistant who occasionally helped him out with adjusting his camera and lending feedback on the videos he edited/recorded. After he gets attached though, Kai immediately starts to seek you out in hopes of getting good footage of you. In his mind, it's a way to keep track of you, your interests, favorite places and how you are in different settings. Honestly Kai can just talk to you, but he finds it difficult since he knows there's the potential in messing up. That is something he can't allow himself to do, so recording you is the next best thing. It should be noted that he is a picky person when it comes to who you hang out with. Kai is okay with you having friends (they'd never know you as much as he does anyways) but he has a sharp eye on picking off the ones who he deems as no good for you. Unbeknownst to you, he will make changes in your life that suit his tastes, but he could never change you. Oh no, he fell for you alone and ruining that would not sit well with him.

Kiyabu, Hatsumomo (Ultimate Floral Designer)

Ozawa, Rikka (Ultimate Professional Mourner)

Hatsumomo is by far the hardest yandere to detect. Why would you? All her actions are only because she hasn't experienced a normal school life and didn't have much friends in the first place. Besides, she couldn't hurt a fly with how weak her immune system is and pacifistic she is. It is true, upon the day you decided to interact with her when noticing she was alone, Hatsumomo grew extremely attached to the hip. She would go anywhere with you and assist how ever she could; anything for you of course! The one aspect that would stand out for a yandere like her, is the fact that she will use her disadvantages as manipulation fuel. It'll be used to guilt trip you or even make you choose her side of an argument where your friends are questioning her behavior. Do they really hate her? What has she done wrong? She's tried so hard to gain their approval... Hatsumomo may even shed some tears just to crank things up and make your friends look bad. The absolute kicker, she absolutely is aware of her actions. Her and other yanderes who aren't as assertive (like Midoriya, I bet you anything despite his sweet face, this fucker knows good manipulation tactics) use their sweet/soft demeanor to their disposal to have you pick their side. Like, who'd be that cruel?

Adachi, Jun'ichiro (Ultimate Prankster)

How do I put this? Rikka is probably the nicest manipulator you can ever have? I guess that's because she doesn't do it out of ill intent (in her mind) and isn't necessarily mean about it. She's just blunt with how she'll tell you that people you might think you know are actually not who they seem. So, I would put that as her just being delusional in even thinking that. Rikka honestly believes her words and advice are truly helping you, since she would never lie. Lies are for people who are miserable, darling! And she's not miserable, right? Welp. That is something she wants to believe in at least. Lowkey, Rikka is quite selfish and extremely smothering towards you, so expect her to check up on you every now and then. If you ever voice out this behavior, she'll accuse you of being selfish when all she's doing is making sure you're okay. It's hard not to think that one day some rival family will try to hurt you out of spite to hurt the Ozawa Family's precious daughter! She's just concerned! Maybe it'd be better if you stayed at her place for a while. Rikka is the type to, and begrudgingly, use her family's ties with other wealthy families and the yakuza to assist her. She does whatever she can because deep down she is scared of her darling ever leaving because you've been so nice to her!

Sasaki, Shion (Ultimate Graffiti Artist)

Jun'ichiro screams obsessive yandere. He just wants to know everything about you; especially what makes you laugh (or any other emotion). Everyone seems to dismiss him off as just the silly prankster, but they unfortunately don't figure out how cunning he is under the surface. To give some context, he is tactful, extremely great at problem solving/puzzles, and has knowledge in mathematics and physics. He just knows how to get around without being suspected of anything, even if you take away this fact. Jun's number one rule in pranking is pretty simple: Do not prank someone with ill intentions. However, what he doesn't mention is the way he gets around this rule. Jun'ichiro absolutely hates people of arrogant and cruel nature and sees them as the exceptions to that rule; this is absolutely true if they decide to pick you as their target of ill will. When that happens, Jun sees this as permission to ruin their lives. Sure, it would humiliate and/or maybe severely/mildly injure them, but they had it coming anyways. No one would care because they're people who don't deserve pity. He's doing this for you and if he's being honest... He will admit that it feels great—refreshing even— to do this. You're worth it anyways.

Takahashi, Gō (Ultimate Delivery Man)

Shion is another lenient yandere, who doesn't mind you having friends, but she'll make sure they never hurt your feelings or harm you. At first glance, she doesn't seem to be the overprotective yandere type but it comes as a surprise when she gets defensive of you. She absolutely expects those who did you wrong to apologize or else it'll get worse on their end. It only depends on how bad their 'assault/crime' is, which Shion is the judge of. The rebellious kids from her neighborhood, who are fond of Shion and refer to her as Big Sis, get into this too. The reason is because they know how important you are to her, so they'll also take care of any person who isn't on Shion's good graces. They want her to be happy and it seems to them that you are what makes her happy, so they will also coax you into dating her. Violence isn't Shion's first option as she expects people who are not being respectful to you to offer an apology or else their mouth with be met with the metal of a bat. With people showing interest in dating you, she will absolutely intimidate them with her sheer presence or using aggressive comments on how she'd deal with them if they break your heart should they manage to date you. When you actually question her, she plays dumb, always stating that the person just wasn't cut out to be with you. Maybe you should just be with her, yeah?

Fukushima, Benjiro (Ultimate Bounty Hunter)

Probably the most lucid out of the bunch and of course he's aware he shouldn't feel this way nor have behaviors like this. There's this sense of guilt in everything he does, but Gō can't seem to stop himself. How can something bad make you feel so good? Gō is another yandere that is extremely dangerous with how many resources he has, despite the fact that he won't use them often. He wants to court you as properly as he can without having to deal with rivals in a fashion he dislikes. He'd like to keep his hands clean. Gō won't use his riches to persuade you at all, since he deems that as a cheap tactic and wants to be honest with you. To be frank, he is a yandere who does their best to proceed with everything normally even with their yandere tendencies. However, because of his status, your life would be in danger as well and he absolutely knows this. But he refuses to let you go no matter how selfish he sees it as. If anyone were to try kidnapping or torturing you for answers regarding him, that would be the point where Gō stops playing things safe. He doesn't like the fact that he's capable of this (Why do people risk so much just for the strengthening of talent is what he asks himself, remembering an event from his childhood.) but it seems that people need to learn consequences. Of course, he'd never hurt you at all. Seeing you fear him will break his heart, but he's sorry to say that you'll be staying with him from now on. He can't risk anything.

You are not getting out of this situation easily or at all. Benjiro for goodness sake is a bounty hunter, so when along the line of getting to know him, he's already planning out your arrival. Benjiro completely ignores the fact that this is extremely unhealthy of him; mostly because of his viewpoint of the world and that everything can potentially be fucked up. He wasn't deemed a person of high morals either with his line of work anyways so why care for what is right or wrong? Trying to guilt him into letting you go won't do you any good because he's stubborn and is dead set on keeping you. Benjiro though, tells you that he'll be good to you since of course, he loves you. As twisted as it is. Just like others in this group, he has ties with other people, so trying to escape or being able to find help isn't going to happen. Hell, some people he would consider 'close' even have tabs on what is happening and will retrieve you if any of them see you trying to leave. The only methods of punishment Benjiro will use on you after coming back home would either be isolation, no dinner for the night, or a few spanks. As easy as it'd be to break a leg, he thinks it would be too much for you. All this, his yandere behavior, stems from childhood and how he was just... Given up so easily in order to fulfill a debt. All the love he thought was true that he was receiving, he wants it back; and he'll get it back without hesitation.

#yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere danganronpa #yandere danganronpa x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere danganronpa oc

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evermoreholland · 3 years

Text

Falling | Professor!Tom

PROFESSOR!TOM X STUDENT!READER

summary: you couldn’t help but fall for your professor

warnings: student/teacher relationship

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i can’t help but be so proud of this fic. i have never written something like this before and i’m so thankful that tom looked so gorgeous in that interview omg and inspired this! hope you like it <3

It’s Monday morning of the first day of the semester. Your feet hurt. You have walked for what feels like hours but in actuality was only around 20 minutes. You didn’t expect the walk across campus to be so torturous. It was hot outside and you, being the cozy and almost lazy person you were, wore a sweatshirt instead of fitting the weather. You instantly regretted scheduling your British History class at 8am. You were tired and you should have known not to schedule a morning class.

You walked up the stairs to enter the History department building and made your way to your classroom. You walked across the hall for a couple of minutes, searching for the designated room. You were about 5 minutes early, wanting to make sure you had time in case you got lost on the way across campus. You pushed open the door to reveal an almost empty classroom, only a couple of students already there. You made your way into the room to find a desk, muttering a quiet “hello” to the professor whom you haven’t gotten a chance to look at yet.

“Good morning,” he greeted. His thick British accent filled the room. Once you placed your books down and took a seat in the front of the room, you looked up to see the professor who would be teaching you this semester. His name was Professor Thomas Holland. Brown eyes and curly brown hair. A nice smile. A black lightweight turtleneck clung to his torso and he gave the few students in the room the brightest smile you have ever seen from a professor. You have only heard a few things about Professor Holland. He was young and well-accomplished. Most if not all people loved him and thought he was an outstanding professor.

Professor Holland walked towards your desk and you averted your eyes away from him. New teachers always scared you. Meeting new people was often terrifying, especially if it’s someone as accomplished as your professor. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Professor Holland.”

“Y/N L/N,” you said. You couldn’t understand how a professor could be quite this young. He looked to be around 26 if you were guessing. “Nice to meet you, Professor.”

“Likewise,” he smiled. “I’m looking forward to having you in my class.” He took a moment to run his fingers through his hair. He turned his head when a group of students walked into the classroom. “Looks like we’ll be starting soon. I hope you end up liking British History, Y/N.”

Professor Holland walked over to greet the rest of his new students and then began teaching the lesson. The lecture passed by slowly. You participated a lot at the beginning of the seminar, but towards the end, you began to slip away a bit. You enjoyed listening to Professor Holland speak so passionately about British History but you were exhausted because of your lack of sleep from the night before.

After about an hour Professor Holland said, “Class dismissed.” You got up and collected your supplies before leaving the classroom. Just as you were about to leave, Professor Holland approached you by the door. “Can I speak with you for a second, Y/N?”

“Of course, Professor,” you replied quietly. To be quite honest, you were scared to speak with your professor one-on-one. Maybe he had noticed that you were not paying much attention during the end of class. You didn’t think that Professor Holland would be rude to you, but confrontation wasn’t usually a fun time.

The man pulled a chair towards his desk before sitting down himself on the opposite side. “Have a seat, Y/N.”

You walked to the chair quickly and sat down giving all of your attention to your professor. “Is everything alright, Y/N?” Professor Holland asked, arms crossed over his chest. His voice was gentle and his company inviting. “You seemed to be zoned out towards the end of class today. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“My apologies, Professor,” you said shyly.

“My class wasn’t too boring, right?” He joked. He reached over to grab his cup of what you assumed was tea and took a sip. His long slender fingers grasped onto the cup as he took another sip and placed it down. It was hard not to stare at someone as attractive as him. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you felt an attraction towards your history professor.

“Not at all,” you said.

“Then what seems to be the issue? You can talk to me, Y/N. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable here,” he reassured you. You had never expected this type of interaction to happen between you and a professor. Most people wouldn’t care that you were zoning out in class, but Professor Holland did.

“I just didn’t sleep well last night,” you said nervously. “But I did enjoy your class nonetheless.”

“I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed my class, Y/N,” he said and then got up from his chair, and you followed his actions and got up yourself. “University means no sleep so I get it. Coffee and tea do wonders, though.”

“Noted,” you laughed and he followed suit. “Thank you, Professor Holland.”

“No worries,” he said as he led you to the door. “If you need help reviewing the rest of the notes, I’d be happy to meet with you sometime. Your ideas in class were incredible. I’d love to hear more from you,” he complimented.

“Thank you, Professor. I would really appreciate that.”

“My office is on the second floor. Room 203. How does tonight at 7 sound?”

“Sounds great. Thank you,” you said and then left. You were grateful that Professor Holland wanted to go over the notes with you. You also felt a pang of excitement consume you. You didn’t understand completely why though. He was your professor and that was it. It doesn’t matter how insanely attractive he is, he is your educator and nothing more than that.

You went to the rest of your lectures for the day, none of them being as interesting as Professor Holland’s was and no one nearly being as attractive as he was. You went back to your dorm room after your last class to do some assignments, eat, and change before meeting with your professor. You decided on wearing a light short-sleeved shirt and some jeans, much different than what you were wearing to class this morning. You let your hair down, grabbed your books and notes, and made your way to Professor Holland’s office.

To say that you were feeling nervous may have seemed weird, but it was true. You approached the history department and you let out a breath that you had been holding. You took the stairs to the second floor. You walked down the halls to find your professor’s office and made it out to be the only room with its lights on. You knocked on the door about three times. You heard shuffling footsteps from the other side of the door. Professor Holland opened the door and gave you a bright smile.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted sweetly. Tom was wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans, unlike what he wore this morning during class. “Come in.”

“Thank you for reviewing the notes with me, Professor,” you said as you walked further into his office. “My pleasure,” he muttered.

“Y/N, do me a favor?” Professor Holland said as you both sat down at his desk. “Cut the formalities when we’re one-on-one together. Call me Tom.”

“Alright, Tom,” you said, his name almost foreign on your tongue. “Are you sure that’s appropriate though?”

“Maybe not,” he laughed. “But Professor Holland makes me feel old, and I’m only 26.” You pulled out your notebook from your bag while Tom opened up his computer to view the slideshow. “How did you become so accomplished at such a young age?”

Tom laughed and put his arms behind his head, getting comfortable. Almost. “That’s a story for another time, darling.”

You almost felt butterflies in your stomach by hearing him call you that. “Okay, Professor Holl- I mean, Tom.”

“Why don’t we get started, shall we?”

You both reviewed the notes for around an hour. Casual small talk filled the room whenever you would write things down in your notebook. Tom was intelligent, but you already knew that. He was charming, sweet, and most importantly, he made you feel comfortable in his presence. He never made you feel stupid whenever you were confused about something or when you would ask a question. Once you were finished reviewing the notes, Tom gave some extra material in case you wanted to review. “Let me get one more book for you that I’d think you’d enjoy.”

He got up from his desk and made his way to the bookshelf in the back of the room. He picked up the old book and gave it to you with a smile. “Keep it as long as you need. It’s really good, and I’m not that much of a reader so that’s saying something.” You couldn’t help but absolutely love Tom’s smile. The way his eyes crinkled and the way his skin glowed made you feel more attracted to him. You grabbed the book from him and your fingers brushed together slightly. The butterflies came back again.

“Thank you, Tom. Thank you for everything. Again,” you giggled. “My pleasure, Y/N.”

A few seconds of comfortable silence filled the room until Tom said, “It’s getting pretty late, darling. I have some papers to grade and you should get back to your place.”

“Sorry for keeping you, Professor.” You felt that it was appropriate to go back to formalities, even though you didn’t want to.

“Don’t feel bad, Y/N. I’d love to talk to you. Hopefully, we could do this again sometime.”

“Thank you, Professor. Have a good night.”

“Same to you.”

You didn’t know how to feel. Was Professor Holland being too casual with you? It was only the first day of his class and you already have been in his office. You knew that even a friendly relationship with your professor could be risky. You didn’t want to get Tom into any trouble, no matter how nice getting to be with him sounded to you.

Four weeks passed by. You participated in lectures frequently. You hadn’t stepped foot into Tom’s office since the first day. You wanted to spend time with him but it felt informal to do so if you genuinely didn’t have any questions about the material.

Tom dismissed class for the morning and he stopped before you could leave the classroom. “Y/N, I’d just like to talk to you about your paper. Can you spare an hour?”

“Of course, Professor.”

“Let’s head to my office upstairs,” Tom said. You both made your way up to his office together. Tom locked the door behind him and pulled out a chair for you to sit at. “Y/N, let me be honest with you,” he started.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” You asked embarrassingly. You spent hours working on that paper but you did do it when you were extremely exhausted.

“The exact opposite actually,” Tom clarified. “Your essay was really well written. I just wanted to spend some time with you.” You were shocked, really.

“Excuse me?” You asked quietly and Tom’s face fell.

“I totally read this wrong, didn’t I?” Tom put his face in his hands, obviously stressed out and overwhelmed. “Shit, I’m screwed.”

“Tom, calm down. I’m just confused.”

“I just thought we could talk but now that I’m realizing it, I’m being very inappropriate, aren’t I?” Tom got up from his seat and began pacing around the room. “Tom, it’s okay. Let’s just talk about the extra course material you gave to me the other week.” Tom was glad that you were able to be so cool about the situation and switch subjects fairly quickly.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You talked about the book you had read from Tom’s collection. Tom continued to be amazed by your insight and intelligence and he couldn’t help but feel a connection between the two of you, even if it was forbidden to pursue.

“Overall, I really liked the book. It had a very interesting perspective about the war. Thanks, Tom,” you concluded.

“No worries, Y/N. Seriously anytime,” he replied gently. He picked up the book that you borrowed and went to put it back on the shelf where it previously sat. “Want another book to read?”

“Sure.” Tom picked up another book and brought it to you. “This one is ahead of where we’re at in class but I think you can handle it,” he laughed.

“Thanks,” you said as you grabbed the book from him. You met his eyes and he was already looking at you. His jaw clenched when you met his gaze but not in an aggressive manner. It seemed like he was nervous and conflicted. “Everything alright, Tom?” You couldn’t help but ask him.

“Y-yeah,” he stumbled over his words nervously. “You’re just really bright, Y/N.” Coming from someone as accomplished as Tom, his compliment meant a lot to you.

“Thank you, Tom,” you replied shyly. “You too.” You stood up to meet his gaze. You were face-to-face and you could almost feel his raging heartbeat. You felt the tension in the air and you could have sworn that Tom briefly glanced towards your lips. He took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. You grabbed his cheek and his mouth went agape.

“Too much, Professor?” You whispered. He shook his head and closed the gap between the two of you. He kissed you with intensity, something that you had been longing for. He wrapped his arms gently around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You continued to kiss him, your hand moving along to his curly brown locks to playfully tug at them, but he finally came to his senses and pulled away from you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, Professor?” You looked at him with innocent eyes. “I wanted that just as much as you did.”

“You’re my student, Y/N. No matter how much I enjoyed that, it can never happen again.”

“Okay, Tom. Whatever you say,” you grabbed the book he gave you and put it in your bag. You slung the bag over your shoulder and began to leave his office. Your hand was on the doorknob but then Tom stopped you. “Wait.”

“Yes, Professor Holland?” You turned around to look at him.

“Stop with the formalities and come here,” Tom said. You made your way back to him. “Yes, Tom?”

“Promise me you can keep a secret?” He didn’t need anyone knowing about this if it were to go any further, and boy, did he want it to go further.

“I’ll have you know, Tom, that I’m full of many mysteries,” you whispered as your hand found your way back into his hair. “This can just be another one.”

“You’ll be the death of me, Y/N,” he said and then kissed you. It was probably the most intense kiss you had ever experienced. This was wrong which made it feel so much hotter.

He pulled away to kiss along your neck. “This is wrong,” he mumbled.

“Then why are you still kissing me, Professor?” He looked up to you and stared into your eyes.

“Because I’m falling for you, and that feels right.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland #professor!tom #i love this omg #so so proud of myself

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the-fiction-witch · 3 years

Text

Books

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY WATTS X READER RATING: FUNNY + FLIRTY

I walked down the half broken, foul smelling new york streets. Hearing my heels clacking in the pavement as I walked, the swishing of my petticoats and my dress, the small sun trying to peek through the thick grey clouds. I put my sunglasses in my handbag as I arrived at the tall buildings I saw the beaten up beetle parked in the street and the small handful of parking tickets it had under the wiper blade so I picked them up and sighed turning to look down into the ever stretching darkness of the stairwell. I stepped down trying not to touch the handrail to the first level of little doors with some lights and then down the second stairwell into the dark nothing's, it smells like shit down here.

I got to the door trying to not touch the gross walls tapping in the door as hard as I could hearing the metal echo through the basement.

The door opened tenderly and careful a first as if trying to peak before it opened fully revealing a barefoot, Benny watts. Stood in his black dirty jeans where he'd clearly wiped his hands down his legs for some reason, his black t shirt with his usual chains, his hand fixing his hair out of his eye with a small smile on his lips

"Hey you"

"Hey" I smiled briefly stepping inside, as soon as my foot crossed into his apartment he put his hand on my waist and gave my cheek a kiss "move your car" I told him pushing the tickets into his chest he took them and I headed inside slipping my Jacket off and laying it over the chair

"I'll move it in a bit" he says "coffee?"

"Tea" I Answered "extra milk t-"

"Extra milk two sugars I know" he laughs going over to his kitchen setting the tickets down in a forming pile on his kitchen counter

"You should pay them"

"I should do a lot of things"

"Pay your parking tickets Benny"

"Suck my dick y/n" he says leaning against the counter looking at me crossing his arms over his chest "we both don't do what the other wants us to"

"You make me suck your dick I'll bite your cock off" I sighed sitting at the table

"I know, I still have the bite mark from Last time" he sighed bringing the cups over sitting across from me with his coffee instantly I took my little hanki from my handbag and cleaned the top of the cup seeing the white cotton turn grey

"What is it Benny? What did you summon me to the slums of new york for?"

"Oohh sorry, next time should I request an audience at mi lady's palace?"

"What do you want Benny before I pour this tea down your pants"

"I need your help"

"... Hu. Never thought I'd hear you say that but go on"

"I need your help with something that only you can help me with"

"Right…"

"I wanna write a book"

"A book?"

"Yes"

"What kinda of book?"

"One with... words?"

"No shit. Fictional or non fictional?"

"What's the difference?"

"Fictional is a story, non fictional is real life."

"Oh, non fiction"

"Okay, do you have a plot structure"

"A who what?"

"What's the plan for the book Benny?"

"I shall write it. And then I shall publish it."

"Did you wanna edit it somewhere in the middle there?" I laughed

"Eh, you can do that"

"Okay… so lemme guess this is a book about you? Or about chess?"

"Little I'd both"

"Who's publishing it?"

"Me?"

"Ohh so you have four thousand dollars laying around do you?"

"What!"

"If you wanna self publish Benny, the basic level is four thousand dollars and that will get you local distribution if your lucky which is about five states out if that."

".... Uuuughh, I'll publish through a publisher? Your publisher?"

"Eleanor doesn't take non fiction"

"Then she has to know someone who does? Right?'

"She does but then have to pay for meetings which cost roughly fifty bucks per ten minutes, and you have to get an approved manuscript before they'll even meet you, and even though a publisher for international you’re taking nine to ten thousand. Dollars."

"Uuuuuuughhh, wait. It's a chess book so I could get funding for it from the chess federation"

"Maybe, but then they are going to need to approve it first, and the send to a publisher willing to carry it, and then designing, and editing and printing and stocking which could take over five years"

"Five years!"

"Yep. The novel world is a slow one Benny" I said "besides that's all publishing stuff, you can worry about that when you have a manuscript"

"A what now?"

"Manuscript is like the… actual book pages and all the words that will be on them"

"Ohh, well that shouldn't be too long, bang it out over a long weekend or something"

"You think you can write a book manuscript over a long weekend? Three days?"

"Yes"

".... Okay, so you wanna write a book? Which for non fiction about chess really a good level would be five or six hundred pages minimum, your going to get it written, edited, and ready to send to the chess federation for approval by Monday morning, even though they might reject it or just plain not fund it, you'll be already one thousand dollars in the red, before you add shipping, handling, copywriting, paying me for editing because I ain't doing that shit for free and as it's currently four pm on a Saturday afternoon and you haven't even writen a word yet"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"How long did it take you to write your book?"

"Six years, in and off with a full time job and without an editor"

"I'm fucked aren't I?'

"Not fucked Benny. Overambitious" I laughed "do you have a title?"

"No."

"Do you have a synopsis?"

"No."

"Do you have a typewriter?"

"I was going to write it by hand?"

"With your handwriting?"

"What's wrong with my handwriting?"

"Benny, it looks like a spider learnt cursive and then got drunk"

"I don't own a typewriter. May I borrow yours?"

"No. Buy one"

"There like sixty dollars!"

"I will buy you a pre-owned typewriter"

"Aww thank you sugar"

"How are you intending to pay me for being your editor?"

"... Royalties?"

"Awww Benny darling, if you sell your book for a dollar each you'll be lucky to make 25 cents per book in royalties, less if you go though a publisher, and even less if it's being funded by the federation… you'll maybe get about six pennies if your lucky" I explain

"Then how the hell do you afford your car? Your house? Your dresses?"

"I sell alot of books Benny"

"I'll give you three pennies if my six pennies royalties?"

"Of your not yet existing book? So I'm just meant to wait and see if I get paid?"

"I'll bake you a cake?"

"You can't cook Benny"

"... I will eat you out?"

"No deal"

"I promise you half of all royalties, editor credit and I'll fuck you as much as you want, now will you please just help me?"

"Fine. I'll be needing a deposit payment" I said

"Alright, you know where the bedroom is I'll finish my coffee and be there in a sec"

I sat on the leather chair looking at the handwritten chapter structure Benny had given me "Benny?"

"Yeah?" He asks slightly jumping where he had been sat for so long at his table with his notes and the old typewriter I got for him trying to figure out how he loaded paper in it

"What is this word?"

"What word?" He asks

"The something with something"

"Which chapter?"

"Four?"

"The faults with defense"

"That is how you write an s?"

"Yes"

"... How do you not write an s right it's in your name?"

"No it's not?"

"Yes it is"

"B. E. N. N. Y. No s there?"

"Watts?"

"Ooohh yeah"

"You fool"

"Also, does this have a E?"

"No."

"And how am I meant to write a chess book without the letter e? I sort of need it? Chess. Defensive. Queen. Benny."

"Antidisestablishmentarianism"

"That's a word?"

'"yep"

"Can you use it in a sentence?"

"Screw you bitch I can spell antidisestablishmentarianism"

"A.n.t.i.d.i.s.t?"

"Nope"

"Damn it" he sighed "but I need e how am I meant to write chess without an e?"

"Write an o and then draw a line in the middle?"

"Fine" he said starting to type one key at a time "Openings… and… tactics… by… Benny… watts" he said but the typewriter had got to the end of the spool "y/n! Why won't it type!"

"Benny just… ughh come here you child" I sighed getting up going over and moving the spool back to the centre so he could write "there. You have to do that at the end of each line"

"Really?"

"Yep. Isn't writing fun" I smiled kissing his head

I sat listening to the clicking and clacking of his typewriter keys, sounded like music to my ears in his quiet dark and cold apartment

"Fuck!" He yelled breaking me from my relaxation as he stopped

"What?" I asked

"How do I undo?" He sighed rubbing his eyes

"You can't what happened Benny?"

"I typed porn instead of pawn" he sighed resting his head in his hands

"You fool" I giggled "you wanna know how we fix mistakes Benny?" I giggled going over wrapping my arms around his neck

"We we write the whole page?"

"Nope. White out" I smiled handing him the shall bottle

"Fuck! That smells like paint"

"Ehh pretty much is"

"Thank you y/n"

"Your welcome" I smiled giving his head s kiss "call me when chapter one is done I'm going for a shower"

"Uuuuhhh… yeah I'll do that" he says not sounding confident

"How close to finished are you with chapter one?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh… next week sound good?"

"And you could bang out a whole book in a weekend" I laughed sitting back on the chair

"I said I'm sorry! I didn't know it was this hard" he says

I sat the other side of the table with my lovely blue pen, my leg over my knee, smirking slightly at him as Benny sat on the other side his hands to his face watching me Intently, panic in his eyes everytime he saw me use the blue pen, which I was having to do alot.

"Here" I said throwing it back to him now I was done "you should probably re write that's a little too much editing for white out watts"

"What's wrong with this?" He asks as he looked over the page

"You used the wrong there"

"I hate you. Beyond words can express."

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fridayfirefly · 3 years

Text

Hardcore Hide-and-Seek

Read Hardcore Hide-and-Seek on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 27 - Contest

There was a dull ache behind his temples that just wouldn't go away. The harsh, bright lights of his computer screen and the fact that he hadn't slept in almost 36 hours combined to give Tim a headache so powerful he could barely think.

"Sweetheart. Honeybunch. Cupcake. Darling." Marinette poked him in the shoulder after each pet name. "You need to go to bed now before you pass out on the keyboard." She gently pulled on his arm, guiding him away from the computer.

"Not yet. Give me... two more hours."

"No way. You need to sleep."

"I just need to finish this one program to search and identify every pedestrian walking by all five of Jason's safehouses, get it up and running, and check it for bugs. Then I can go to sleep."

Marinette groaned. "Nine hours, that's all I'm asking."

"You know how much can be done in nine hours? In nine hours Damian will have checked half of The Bowery, Cass and Steph will have combed through all of Crime Alley, and Dick and Babs will have hacked their way into every street-facing camera in Gotham."

"First of all, you're not going to find Jason if you're too tired to think straight. Second, finding Jason first means nothing if you're too tired to catch him." Marinette rolled her eyes. "Third, I think this whole contest is ridiculous. I swear, you Bats play the weirdest games."

"It isn't weird. It's good practice for our tracking abilities," protested Tim.

"It's extreme hide-and-seek tag, that's what it is. Now get to bed. If you get nine hours of sleep tonight, I'll help you catch Jason tomorrow morning."

"Fine." Tim cast one last longing look at the computer before Marinette pulled him out of the Batcave.

----------

The light of morning woke Tim up, reminding him that he had been too tired the night before to set an alarm. "What time is it?"

"It's nine in the morning. You were right that Cass and Steph searched through Crime Alley. They checked all three of Jason's safehouses but found nothing. Damian got sidetracked by an armed robbery while searching through The Bowery and was barely able to check a few blocks. Dick and Babs got access to the traffic camera and the video of two different security companies, but they weren't able to get any of your facial recognition programs to run on any of the feeds."

"Wait, what?" asked Tim, still not fully awake.

"I was serious about helping you. I don't do anything halfway," said Marinette.

Tim sat up, "That's great! Our odds of winning triple when we team up. What were you saying about Babs and Dick?"

"They can't get your facial recognition program to run."

"That's because I tweaked some of the code right at the end to require a confirmation from my laptop. That way if any of my codes fall into the wrong hands, I'll know." Tim grabbed his laptop off of his desk and opened it. A pop-up appeared in the corner of the screen.

[user: Babs requests access for FACIAL RECOGNITION]

There were three options underneath: YES, NO, and IMITATION RUN. Tim clicked the third.

"What does imitation run do?" asked Marinette.

"It will go through to all of the video feeds, but it won't actually flag anything. It will just run passively. Dick and Babs, however, won't know that."

"Clever. That should set Dick and Babs back. Now how are we going to find Jason?"

"Jason knows that we have programs to monitor anywhere where there are security cameras. That means he'll be staying away from traffic cameras. He's lying low - probably in a safehouse."

"Cass and Steph checked all three of the safehouses in Crime Alley," objected Marinette.

Tim shook his head. "Jason has more than three safehouses in Crime Alley. Those three are just the ones we know about."

"How are we going to find these safehouses?" asked Marinette. "If there's one thing Jason's good at, it's disappearing."

"That's the problem. Jason only has to last three more days before he wins. It's entirely possible for him to just hole up in his safehouse and never leave."

"On the other hand, that means that we've got him cornered once we figure out the location of his safehouse."

Tim nodded. "Let's get searching."

The problem with finding a safehouse is that there isn't much to do once a person is successfully hidden inside. It's impossible to search every single building in all of Crime Alley (though Steph and Cass together were giving a remarkably good effort of scouring for signs of Jason), so Tim and Marinette took a different approach.

"I designed the burner phones that all of the Bats use in our safehouses, which is how I know for certain that there are no trackers in them. However, if I send out a system update, they all update automatically. When the update is installed, it will send back a confirmation to the main servers. I can trace that message back to figure out the location of all of the burner phones."

"How long will that take?"

"Half an hour to get everything ready to send out a system update. Fifteen minutes after that before all the phones are updated and send their confirmation messages. From there we can start checking safehouses."

Marinette grinned. "See, I told you that you would think better with a full night of sleep."

"You were right," Tim admitted.

"You start the system update, I'm going to make breakfast."

Marinette left the bedroom and Tim wondered how he got so lucky as to have her with him.

----------

After collecting the locations of all the safehouse burner phones and cross-checking the results with the list of known safehouses, there were five unconfirmed safehouses left.

"Two in Crime Alley, two in The Bowery, and one in East End," reported Tim.

"Let's hit East End first, then move onto The Bowery, and end in Crime Alley," Marinette formulated the plan over a plate of pancakes. "What are the official rules to this game, anyway?"

"Jason got twelve hours to hide. Then we get five days to track him down and tag him. The winner gets to drive the Batmobile anytime Bruce isn't in town for the next six months."

Marinette playfully rolled her eyes. "Of course the prize is driving the Batmobile." Getting up from her finished breakfast, Marinette started putting on her coat and shoes. "Come on, Tim, let's go win you Batmobile privileges."

The apartment in East End was empty, save a few rats that scurried across the hallway of the apartment. Marinette wrinkled her nose and she peered out the grimy window. "Who's safehouse do you think this was?"

Tim fished a half-empty carton of cigarettes out of a drawer in the kitchen. "Jason's, probably, but given the amount of dust in here, I don't think he's been here for a while."

The brick house in The Bowery was a little cleaner but still abandoned. The little front yard was half dirt and half weeds. Pinned up on a bulletin board in the front hallway was an empty postcard decorated with the logo for Haly's Circus. Tim concluded that it was Dick's safehouse and they moved onto the next safehouse. It was in an apartment complex in Crown Point, the seediest district of The Bowery. It was stocked with knives, guns, and a box of neatly labeled poisons.

"Damian's safehouse?" guessed Marinette. "He's the only one I could see having poison kept on hand."

Tim nodded, "Probably."

The second-to-last safehouse was on the border between The Bowery and Crime Alley. It was small and run-down, but it seemed that at one point it had been well-maintained. The mailbox was hand-painted yellow, with blue letters reading: The Brown's.

"Stephanie's old house," said Tim, realization.

"Sentimental choice for a safehouse," noted Marinette.

It felt wrong to enter the house that Steph grew up in, so they moved on from it. There was no way Jason was inside, not when Steph and Babs had already search the known safehouses in Crime Alley.

Tim sighed as they drove to the last location. "We've only got one safehouse left to check. I'm not sure what we'll do if Jason isn't in it." Tim had forgotten to consider that Jason might have gotten a burner phone from somewhere else, other than the supply cupboard in the Batcave.

"If he isn't there then we'll go back to the drawing board, I suppose. But don't lose hope yet. I have a good feeling about this one," Marinette reasoned.

The final safe house was a nondescript apartment building: brown brick exterior, cigarette butts on the sidewalk, and grimy windows.

"Do you think this is it?" asked Marinette.

Tim shrugged. "We'll just have to find out."

There were eight apartments in the building, four on the first floor and four on the second. Tim and Marinette quickly swept the first floor, but none of the apartments were Jason's. They then moved to the second floor. Tim quickly picked up on a dusty footprint on the carpet. He recognized the tread-marks from the bottoms of Jason's shoes. "Second door on the left," whispered Tim. "You head outside and make sure he doesn't escape through the windows."

"I'll let you tag him," Marinette whispered in response, slipping down the stairs.

Tim waited a full minute for Marinette to get into position, then crept up to the door. Taking a deep breath, Tim waited for the moment to feel right. Then another breath. Bang!

Tim broke through the door, revealing Jason sitting on the bed, scrolling on his phone.

Jason swore and reached for the gun on the bedside table, but he didn't get a chance to fully react before Tim tagged him out.

"Goddammit!" Jason threw the gun on the bed in frustration. "How did you find me?"

"Burner phone," chimed in Marinette as she popped through the window.

"You said they didn't contain trackers," Jason accused.

"They don't. But when I issued a system update, they all sent a confirmation which I was able to track," Tim said smugly, trying not to gloat too hard.

Jason whipped open a drawer in the cramped kitchen and pulled out the burner phone, tossing it to Tim. "Next time, I'm picking out my own burner phone."

"If it wasn't the phone, we'd have found something else. Admit it, we were good," said Marinette.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Good job, Replacement. You too, Pixie Pop."

"See you at home," Marinette chirped. "Now that this silly contest is over, I have Tim to myself for the next two days. No more sharing his with his computer."

Tim smiled at the thought of finally spending time with Marinette. "Let's go."

"I thought you'd never ask."

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #MaribatMarch2021 #timari #timinette #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Tim Drake #my work #miraculous ladybug fic

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wincore · 3 years

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fic ideas + headers 🌙

a/n: hello!!! these are the fics i had ideas for but i never got around to writing them!! if you decide to use these as inspiration, feel free! just don’t forget to tag me (@wincore). click on the image for better quality!

🌙. lookbook (lty)

synopsis: lee taeyong is a top, world renowned, camera-plagued fashion designer with his own successful label. you are a journalist in new york trying to get by without any more threats to your job. you are most definitely not his employee, much less his assistant. but do you want to keep your actual job or not? that’s the question you find yourself facing, and somehow you don’t question the legality of your boss’ sketchy instructions when you continue this childish gamble of to be or not to be.

note: ok yn has a lot of romcom plot armor in this. at least it’s funny. oh BOY i wanted to write this so bad. maybe i will some day. (no promises)

🌙. plastic hearts (zcl)

synopsis: you’re rich. he’s rich. you’re class president, he’s got an eye out for trouble. you’ve known each other since you were kids, what could go wrong with a small confession? apparently, a lot of things because now, you find yourself playing all these mind games. and if you know anything about competition, it’s this: play the player, not the game.

note: you can interpret this as e2l or bff2l !! for clarification, it’s a private school!au which may or may not involve arson.

🌙. corduroy (lyy)

synopsis: in which all the wrong guys are in love with you, you’re in love with your best friend, and your best friend is in love with stupidity.

note: this one... i actually wrote the entire fic but i wasn’t happy with it so i scrapped it ://

🌙. the honey hoax (sjn)

synopsis: darling. sweetheart. honey. you don’t think you’ve ever used any of those words when you were dating Johnny — that was his thing. yet now that you’re both home, attending your mutual friend’s wedding, the words drip out of your mouth as you try to convince everyone of this game of make-believe the two of you unwittingly started. what’s worse: kissing your ex-boyfriend in front of your giddy circle of friends? or having to face his stupidly gorgeous smile every night in your shared hotel room?

note: okay this is kind of a recurring trope with johnny but the man owns classic romcom somehow.

🌙. how to overcome the fear of falling in love (dsc)

synopsis: one. be honest with yourself. that's easy, sicheng just needs about five shots of vodka for that. two. accept what you're feeling. this one isn't too hard either, is it? oh, but sicheng would rather dig a hole in the ground and lie in it than tell you all the times you spent dancing with him meant something to him. three — ah, fuck this. he should not have relied on a sketchy article on the internet, especially one his friends recommended.

🌙. fox trap (ldh)

synopsis: now look, anyone in this day and age would call a boy with nine tails and two fluffy ears atop his head a goddamn furry. how were you supposed to know he’s some horrifying man-eating creature of old folklore? oh, he’s not really that bloodthirsty and the lore was kinda biased? well, he might just make for an interesting column in the university newspaper. if only you didn’t have to go on a fox hunt every time you try to interview him.

🌙. tokyo snow (lty)

synopsis: you did not know that the secret door in a tokyo nightclub would lead you to someplace even darker, brimming with merlot roses and six inch snow. you do know, however, that temptation is the heart of all evil.

note: i genuinely forgot where i was going with this fic so.... make up your own plot i guess <3 i just remember it had smth to do with fae!taeyong.

🌙. villain

synopsis: all the riches in the world for a day - what would you do? that’s right, you’re going to get drunk without consequences, flirt with a businessman’s son and rope yourself into a mess you thought the rich were exempt from. as frazzled as you are, dong sicheng might not be as awful as you made of him at the corporate dinner especially since he’s your only way out of this piping hot mess. the only thing bothering you, however, is that the magazine covers and the man behind it do not seem to match.

note: this was inspired by that one otome my friend plays. i dont remember the plot but like the mc won some ticket to a rich people party or something. i didn’t know what happens after that so i made my own. buuut this has a modern fairytale spin to it for sure :^)

🌙. devilish (jjh)

synopsis: young hot ceo check! wait, it’s not you? there’s another man on the block threatening to take away your position as number one on the forbes 30 under 30 list? no fucking way. here comes the part where you show the world this new entrepreneur guy is some lying, cheating con man. (and what if you’re right?)

note: yes, this was supposed to be a side fic to villain. and more upbeat. altho there was a bucketload of angst in the middle.

🌙. lover boy (njm)

synopsis: yes, it’s true. for only 15,000 won an hour, you can get na jaemin to take you out on the best date of your life!

or, what started out as a fake advertisement jaemin’s drunk friends (read: donghyuck & sober help) put up across the campus, somehow turned into a legible business for him. and what more can a broke college student want than extra cash? (hint: it’s shaped a lot like you.)

note: i really wanted to write this one!!!!! but i do not have the mental capacity sorry <3 fake dating + jaemin is a good romcom tho. oh ALSO. it’s slightly inspired by me putting out a bf application for my friend in college LOL.

okay so. that’s it !!! i hope these look as fun as it was to come up with them !!!（＾∀＾●）ﾉｼ

#not sure if i'll recycle these ideas for hq fics but.... yeah #nct #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #do i really have to tag this #i made the chenle header rn bc i had the synopsis but not the header and that made me sad #also scrapped a sicheng fic bc i didn't have the header or synopsis just the plot outline #hsgjgd #this is going to be last post for now #wooh this stuff is draining

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