#And that's t r u e as in I can't put them into words in a cohesive; to the point; doesn't drag on for five hours monologue

[animasola86]

F o r g e t f u l 🎀 1 / 4

Your roommate has a dirty secret - you. The only problem is: you can't remember anything about that. And there might be even more problems when you realize just what kind of relationship you have with her.

a dominant woman X a submissive girl with a memory problem

WARNINGS: F!Reader-insert! NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mistress/pet. Domme/sub. Memory loss. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Fingering. Sex toys. Object insertion. Bondage. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 5.5k

A/N: Remember: if these tags are not for you, you better turn back now! If you know my other stories, you may be used to my very explicit writing style, but this is still some of the darker stuff, somewhat. It's rough, but there is an actual wlw story buried beneath the depravity, I swear! And: THIS IS FICTION! Nobody got hurt in the making of this series. (By the way, the header is just for aesthetics, it's up to you to decide how Mistress looks like and obviously Reader looks however you want to insert her. I tried my best to keep her neutral.) Another note on the fandom tags: I write characters who could be anyone, so I thought about some kick-ass ladies who may fit the role here. I'm sorry this is not about your favorite character, but maybe it can still somewhat fit? Give it a try :)

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

You're staring at the pictures with your lips parted and trembling, your cheeks warm, a strange tingle in your nape. Your hands are shaking as you file through the prints. They look weirdly professional, good lighting, even better angles, the background is blurry while the focus lies directly on...

You.

It's you in those photographs, you in various positions, you in different outfits... or with nothing at all hiding your curves. Some pictures are just showing certain body parts, some angles you've never seen of yourself, some more flattering than others.

But whatever you see, you can't hide the fact that it arouses you. It's not the subject, you're usually quite self-conscious about taking nudes of yourself (even though you gotta admit that these look quite well made, so surreal that you feel almost proud of yourself), it's actually two things that make your core throb:

One: you are in clearly compromising positions, bent over with your legs spread wide, on your back, bound to the bed with cuffs around your wrists and ankles, or tied up with soft-looking rope in intricate patterns, your body composed in ways you haven't thought possible (or comfortable).

And two: you are always stuffed. There are various objects sticking out of both your cunt and your ass, sometimes there's even something in your mouth that's held open by a spider gag. It varies too, not all holes are occupied all the time, all at once, in some pictures it's just one and it's particularly stuffed and stretched (is that an eggplant?).

Your body reacts more and more as you flip through the thick printed paper. The worst thing about it all:

You can't remember a goddamn thing!

Shame and arousal course through you as you stare at yourself. But you can't put them down, can't stop. In this photo, you're wearing a black leather harness that accentuates your breasts. You're standing, with wide legs, a spreader bar attached to your ankles. You're blindfolded, your arms tied behind your back. It's a series of pictures, you realize.

First from the front, then from the back (your ass cheeks look great with how they're pushed up by the leather straps). You notice something shiny between them: a butt plug with a sparkly diamond base. It's glowing, or blinking as you see in the next picture where the light is gone.

Your insides convulse a little, your muscles clenching around nothing. It's like looking at porn, but you can't ignore the familiarity about the body portrayed. It is undoubtedly yours.

But then again: you've never had anything up your ass, not in your conscious state at least. But here (and in those other pics) you have, and the next print even shows a close-up of the plug in your ass. It's a strangely aesthetic photo considering the unflattering motif and angle, but it certainly does things to you. Though you can't be sure if the tension in your stomach comes from embarrassment, excitement or sheer terror at the revelation that somebody took these pictures of you – and you can't even remember it.

Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes from the prints, your hands still shaking, as you look around the room. Somebody can only be one person. Your gaze scrapes over the shelves around you, full of camera equipment, old-fashioned film containers next to a plastic box full of SD-cards, various lenses and other extras, and then the cameras themselves, three at least, behind glass doors, kept away, like the pictures you found in a large brown envelope hiding in a drawer.

You've been looking for some hair ties, an innocent search, knowing your roommate wouldn't mind, but now you feel as if you've stepped into a different world, uncovering secrets you should have never known about. Even if they are about you.

Taking a shuddering breath, you look back at the pictures in your hands, your cheeks positively aflame now as you trace the blurry lines of your body before the focus shifts to a close-up of your cunt, shiny and reddened, your clit swollen, with black clamps attached to your pussy lips, thin metal chains disappearing off to the sides, holding your folds open while something black and girthy vanishes into your body.

The next pictures show a white-gloved hand gripping the base of the dildo, and you flip quicker through the sheets to create the motion, seeing the toy going in and out of your cunt, guided by the anonymous hand, spreading your core, diving in to retreat with an extra layer of shine before disappearing again, and as you stare at the prints, you can almost feel it moving inside you, a faint memory as your muscles clench and unclench, your arousal building up before it drips into your underwear.

You are torn between being very horny upon seeing these pictures and utterly disturbed. If you could only remember these scenes, then it wouldn't be as bad. But you can't. There's nothing, only fog that slips through your mind's imaginary fingers as you try to catch it, as you try to make sense of this. You feel your heart beating faster while your eyes tear up from staring unblinkingly at the prints in your hands.

This can't be real. Confusion merges with betrayal, your belly feels tense, your heart clenches in rhythm with your walls, your throat closes up as the first tear spills from your lashes.

You let go of the pictures, watching them scatter over the desk and down to the floor, every angle of your body on display, every inch captured in embarrassing detail, your holes filled or gaping, your mouth gagged or stuffed or open, there's drool, there are tears, there's wetness glistening on your skin in almost every shot. Your eyes may be the scariest part staring up at you. They're either glazed over, unfocused, or rolled back and hooded, some bloodshot, some watery, and some look almost defiant, a moment captured in time where you seemingly fought back?

The ones where you're blindfolded are the least terrifying, those are the ones where you can dissociate, where you can imagine somebody else being tied to whatever surfaces there are, tables, benches, beds, chairs, artfully presented, where it's just a body, clad in sexy lingerie and high heels, or adorned with ropes, or in the moments after where the skin is dented by the intricate patterns left behind by the ties.

The close-ups are also getting to you. You've never seen your own cunt or ass up close like this, so again, it could be anyone's holes filled and spread and used by various objects. The sheer amount and variety of them is quite concerning. But it's the unconventional ones that make you shiver, that create that tension in your stomach. The cucumber pushed deep into your ass so only its thinner stalk or whatever its called pokes out. The wide eggplant parting your labia in an obscene fashion, its entire body stuffed into your cunt, creating a slight bulge in your lower stomach.

There's another stack of photos atop a large envelope (the whole drawer seems to be dedicated to just you), and your curiosity gets the better of you after all. It's a series of pictures showing different round objects pushed into your holes. From marbles to ping pong balls to actual tennis balls, they're all shown vanishing into either your ass or your cunt, pushed by a delicate finger clad in a white glove, one after the other, and you can only assume how many would actually fit. It's not a video, you can't be sure, but you can imagine whoever did this to you didn't stop at just one.

Indeed they didn't, as the next photo shows. Another set of hands, also wearing white gloves, is grabbing your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, making your sphincter wink at the camera, before, in the next shot, your hole is gaping, allowing a strange view inside, rosy flesh stuffed with white little balls (you can see at least three, but more are hinted at behind them). You feel a little sick looking at the rest of the series of pictures, where they come back out as your hole puckers, pushing and pushing.

Your body reacts in earnest, your muscles clenching around nothing, deep shivers crashing down your spine. You flip past more of these kinds of photos, until you stop when you see white-gloved fingers poking at your cunt, spreading your lips, gathering your slick that glistens on the surface of the latex gloves, and you let out an audible gasp when the next picture doesn't show them push in, but shows only a wrist (attached to a slender arm) poking out of your stretched hole, gripped by tight skin, suggesting the entire hand is stuck inside you.

Your stomach gives a nervous growl at the sight, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallow thickly, your nostrils flaring as you force yourself to breathe through your nose to calm yourself. The stack of pictures shakes in your hands as you flip through more extreme insertions, more vegetables, some fruits, an entire apple made it up your cunt apparently, while they went from using one cucumber in your ass to at least three, stretching your rim impossibly wide. The sight alone makes your asshole clench violently, and you wonder why you never felt sore after being stuffed so full and spread so wide.

But your body seemingly adjusted, returned to its former state, unharmed, giving no hints at what actually happened to you. Strange. It's almost as if this happened to somebody else after all. But it didn't. It is your body. You may not know your cunt or ass up close, but you recognize the rest, your boobs, your arms, your belly, your legs, your feet, the birthmarks that make you you. It is you in these pictures, in every single one.

Only you.

A strangled sob escapes you as you look over the desk, seeing more and more envelopes, hiding in plain sight, more prints, some smaller, some bigger, all filled with motifs of your body being used in various fashions, one more degrading than the next. Shame settles low in your stomach, like a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe. Your head is spinning, blood rushing in your ears so loudly you are startled back into reality as you suddenly hear the creaking of the door.

Footsteps follow, before someone clears their throat.

You whip around, dropping the last pictures you were holding, more shots of your stuffed cunt, wet and glistening as it's assaulted by more household items. Your eyes widen when you see your roommate in the door frame, a smug smile on her beautiful face as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh hi,” she says in a nonchalant tone, tilting her head. “What are you doing here, pet?” she adds, and you frown at the nickname, a strange sensation crashing through your nerves.

“I... uh... I was looking for...” you stammer, taking a step away from the desk and the mess you made by dropping all those prints. “A hair tie,” you whisper breathlessly, curling your shaking hands into fists as you stare at her. “What... what are these? Did you take them?” you then ask, your voice trembling as much as your shoulders while you look from her back to the discriminating evidence you found by accident.

Your roommate sighs, unfolding her arms as she walks towards you. She's taller than you, slender and still curvy in the right places, her long hair falling over her slim shoulders. You force yourself to look into her eyes and not get distracted by the cleavage her tight dress creates or how close she is. She stops right in front of you, looking down, a softer looking smile curling her full lips.

“You know I did,” she says quietly, reaching up a hand to caress your cheek with the back of her finger. You shiver under the touch, but don't flinch away. “You agreed to this, remember?”

“No,” you breathe out, blinking quickly as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Shh, it's okay, pet, don't worry. You did. I would never do anything to harm you,” she whispers, leaning closer until you feel her hot breath on your lips. “You wanted to be my muse, you begged me for it,” she adds, biting her lip sensually before leaning in to press her warm mouth to the corner of yours.

You stiffen, eyes widening, your heart nearly exploding in your chest. You can't remember any of this. Why is she saying that? She is just your roommate!

You moved in only a few months ago, replying to an ad you saw on the bulletin board of your college dorm. A cheap room in a good neighborhood, your own room, away from the distractions of having to live with people you don't like or know that well, it sounded too good to be true. But it was true, and the woman looking for roommates was so nice, so enticing. You met her at a neutral place, to get to know her (fall for her charm), before she showed you the apartment, and you moved in later that week.

It was perfect. Until it wasn't. Not that you noticed it right away. You just never saw her. Now that you thought about it, you can only (barely) remember going to your classes (you are still going to your classes, right?), while the rest of the day is somewhat of a blur. You can't, however, remember going to your job at the coffee shop (do you still have a job? How are you paying for this place?), and the more you try to remember, the more holes come up, black and all-consuming.

You frown as you stare at her. She leans back slowly, watching you. Her hand is on your face, the pointy nail of her thump scraping over your bottom lip as her long fingers caress the shell of your ear.

“No need to worry, pet,” she says quietly, her voice a low soft thrum, rich like honey, that tickles something inside you that you've fought all your life. Why does she keep calling you 'pet'? And why does it affect you so much? “Everything is just fine. And I'm not even mad that you just went into my room like this. I told you you shouldn't, didn't I?”

You swallow as she lowers her hand and closes it around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. You feel your pulse throbbing against her palm. “I'm sorry,” you gasp out.

She smiles at you, moving her hand even lower, teasing her fingertips along the neckline of your shirt. “It's okay. You know the consequences. It'll be fine.” You furrow your eyebrows, breathing harder, not understanding anything. “Not the first time, hm?” she adds, giving you a wink. Her words make no sense, your head is hurting with how tight you pull your eyebrows together, and with all the thoughts and questions whirling about in a wild dance of confusion.

“I... I don't –”

“Shh,” she shushes you, her hand gripping your chin. You freeze. “Be a good pet and go back to your room. I'll clean this up. Put on the clothes I chose for you. Wait for me when you're done. Do you understand?”

You stare at her, your body tensing up, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. Her words, the cadence of her voice, the dominant tone, it all brings you to do one thing, your mind emptying as words spill from your trembling lips. “Yes, Mistress.”

You don't even know where these came from. Mistress? Pet? What is going on? But your body moves on auto-pilot, your mind swirling, still fighting the confusion, but also easing into a strange void, triggered by words you've heard before, or so it feels, commands you've answered many times in the past.

She lets go of your chin, giving you a warm smile, even though her eyes are dark and somewhat cold, and you nod, bow your head and shuffle out of the room, your legs trembling as you make your way back into your bedroom across the hall.

For a moment you're wondering how you got here, why you're here, but then your gaze falls onto a pile of clothes on your bed. You walk closer, picking up item after item. A short black skirt, pleated, barely long enough to not be considered a belt. A tight tank top, white and almost see-through. A set of fancy black underwear, a lace bra with an intricate flower pattern, a thong of similar design. There's also a pair of sheer black stockings, a garter belt and straps to attach each piece together.

Your stomach tenses at the sight. You've seen these pieces before, in the photos you shouldn't have seen. It's a blur how you put them on, your head spinning, your hands shaking, but you still somehow manage to dress in time before you hear footsteps on the floorboards outside your room. Your heart beats faster, your chest heaving, tight in the bra and top, straining, something cold crashing down your spine before it gathers hot and pulsing right between your legs.

Before the creaking of the door announces your roommate, you suddenly fall to your knees, your feet tucked under your rear, your hands automatically finding purchase in your lap, folded neatly as you stretch your back and square your shoulders, breathing deep as you train your eyes straight ahead, waiting for the door to open. You have no idea what made you assume this position, why it feels so familiar, so safe in a way.

Your roommate (your Mistress) enters your bedroom, her high heels thudding over the carpet as she walks up to you, tilting her head as she watches you closely. “Stand,” she says, and you do, your legs moving seemingly on their own. Once you stand, stiff with your arms pressed to your sides, chest pushed out, your neck straight, eyes wandering over the tall frame in front of you, she nods. “See? You haven't forgotten. Good girl,” she says, and the praise shoots through you like a pistol shot, straight into your clit, making it throb and ache, your heart beating in the same hurried rhythm.

She walks around you then, her long fingers brushing over your bare arms, around your shoulders, down your spine, until she gives your ass a soft slap, making you gasp quietly. She repeats the motion, but this time, she leaves her hand on your cheek for a moment, squeezing it, her fingernails digging into your soft skin. You stiffen, breathing a little harder.

“You're so beautiful,” she whispers as she leans into you, looming behind you, her breath ghosting your jaw. “My perfect little muse.”

You feel her lips brushing against the soft spot behind your ear, a hot kiss that makes you shiver, while her hand gropes your ass, fingertips teasing at the thin fabric of your thong tucked between your cheeks.

Suddenly she leans back, lets go of you, and you hear her walking a few steps before she stops, a deep sigh echoing through the room. You turn around slowly, unsure if you should, but when you do, you freeze as you watch her pick up the glass of water on your bedside table.

“Baby, I told you to drink more,” she says with a tilt of her head. “You always forget, hm? So busy, head always in the clouds...” She walks back to you, holding the glass in front of you, her eyes boring into yours as she waits for you to grab it. You do, your hands shaking. “Drink up, pretty girl. You know you need it.”

She's so caring, you think as you bring the water to your lips, holding her gaze, but as soon as you feel the cold liquid running down your tight throat, an image flickers before your eyes. Your roommate (Mistress) sitting on your bed, moving a clear glass straw in a stirring motion, swirling the water, making a faint sheen of powder disappear. You feel as if you've watched her do that many times. What is that? What did she put in here? Vitamins? Or something else?

But you can't even question it further, can't find the courage to ask, when you realize you've drank the whole thing, every drop of water (and whatever else was in there) now in your stomach. “Good girl,” she praises and smiles at you, before she takes the glass from your clammy fingers and puts it back on your bedside table. “Now let's get you ready for our big night out, yeah?”

You frown, another faint memory peeking through the fog in your head. It seems to be getting thicker now. Strange. But this image, you still see somewhat clearly before you. You had plans tonight, you remember now, you wanted to go out. Where? No idea. But you needed a hair tie. Yeah. That's why you went into your roommate's room in the first place. Some details are blurry (were you supposed to go out with her? Have you done that before? Why would you? You barely know the woman...), but somehow they don't matter anymore.

She steps back in front of you, her fingers vanishing in the cleavage of her dress before she pulls something from between her breasts. You blink in confusion as you recognize the shape. It's a metal butt plug. And she stored it between her boobs? Interesting.

“Open wide, pet,” she tells you, and without even questioning it, you part your lips and let your tongue roll out. She looks pleased as she puts the rounded object into your mouth. It's warm, and the taste triggers something else in you. Another familiar sensation. It's her, you know without knowing, her taste, sweet and a bit salty, exploding on your tongue, sinking deep, causing soft shivers to crash down your spine, something hot gathering low in your gut.

You've had your face on her chest before, huh? Must be. Your cheeks burn up badly, your breaths loud through your nose as you suckle on the butt plug between your lips, your eyes scanning the pretty face looking down at you. She keeps her fingers on the base, pushing the object in and out, and you find yourself licking around it, coating it in your saliva. Like you've done before. You think.

She watches you before she lets go of the plug and puts her palm over your mouth. “Keep it nice and warm for me, okay?” she says, leaning closer until her nose brushes against yours. You give a jerking nod, tightening your lips around the narrowest part of the plug while its body rests hard and heavy on your tongue. “Good.”

You feel saliva pooling in your mouth, and the urge to swallow becomes stronger. But you focus on the woman in front of you as she straightens up again, her hands on her hips. Her whole presence, her aura, has you in its grip, you feel, it's impossible to fight it, to protest, to do anything except the things she demands of you. All it takes is a look, a word, her voice driving through you like an electric current that controls your every limb.

And so you move when she tells you to turn around and bend over, and as you rest on your forearms on the edge of your bed, she nudges your legs apart and steps between them, her hands sliding under your skirt and pushing it up. You stiffen slightly, breathing harder, your heart thundering inside your chest, but you can't object, you don't want to. You just endure.

And a tiny part of you, through the fog in your head, lights up, a growing heat that creeps down your spine, tenses in your stomach, seeps lower until it gathers in your core, scorching, wet, and it's all you feel when she pushes your thong aside and moves her fingers along your slit, dipping gently between your puffy lips and into your slick, the loud squelching noise making your ears burn.

She prods at your entrance, teases your clit, but then she moves up again, and without warning or command or reassuring words pokes right against your puckered hole, and as you gasp around the plug in your mouth, flinching slightly, she stretches your rim and pushes into your ass, a slim finger, a pointy fingernail, digging against your tense muscles. In and out it goes until there are two fingers, then three, and it burns, the friction too much, like little daggers poking at your nerves.

“Come on, pet, relax,” she says from behind you, moving her fingers deeper, curling them, pushing and prodding against protesting muscles. “You've done this before. You're a pro at this, remember?”

Her words bring up the hazy memories of the pictures you saw, of the various items wedged into your tight ass, and some just don't make sense. Three cucumbers? Really? While it already feels like too much when she 'only' has three slim fingers inside you? How did you manage that? Your stomach gives a distant growl as drool slips past your tight lips and onto your bed.

“Fine, I'll lube you up this time,” she sighs and removes her fingers with a strangely wet pop. This time? She doesn't usually? It's almost as if you can remember the pain of the dry friction, but then why can you never remember any soreness afterwards? Confusion lingers on your mind as you hear her footsteps leaving the room.

You remain in your bent-over position, your hands clawing at the sheets as you suckle mindlessly on the metal plug in your mouth, trying to make sense of it all. You come to no conclusion whatsoever when she eventually returns, and you hear the squirt of some liquid before you can feel it. Large dollops of something cold pressing against your tight hole. You groan against the object between your lips as she pushes deeper, her fingers, slick and cold, sliding in and out again.

This time she stretches your hole by scissoring her fingers, knuckles digging into your tense muscles, and you hear another squirt and something cold lands on your hot skin, slipping right into you. You shiver, goosebumps breaking out on your exposed skin. She keeps doing that, filling you up with more and more lube, you assume, her fingers pushing it deep, coating your insides. It's a strange sensation, but again, this feels somewhat familiar, and triggers more memories you seem to have suppressed before, or forgotten.

You see yourself strapped to a reclining chair, your legs raised up in some sort of stirrups, ankles tied and wrists bound to the armrests. You're naked, and she is kneeling between your wide open legs in front of a large plastic bucket or something like it, and there's a tube inside your ass, something cold (water?) pressing through it and into you, and you see and feel it filling you up, your stomach bulging, and you feel sick, your insides cramping, but you can't say anything, there's a gag in your mouth, so all you can do is squirm in your restraints, until you feel a different sort of pain as she slaps your mound with a force that makes you cry out, makes you flinch remembering it, and she keeps at it, hitting your clit with precise blows until it's all puffy and throbbing badly, and you throw your head back and whine helplessly, your belly still bulging, filling up, while her voice coos into your ear:

“You want to be clean, pet, don't you? So we gotta clean you up properly. You don't want to be dirty for our guests, now do you?”

You frown deeply as those words echo in your cloudy head. Guests? But the question vanishes slowly, replaced by the sensation of her fingers digging deep into your ass, spreading more lube, and in the back of your mind you're just glad she isn't giving you another enema. A strange thought to have, but it makes sense in the dizziness that holds you hostage. Breathing harder, you press your forehead into the bed, swallowing hard around the plug in your mouth.

As she works on (in) your ass, you start to feel a tingle in your neglected pussy, a spasm deep within, a little clench, a needy little urge, and instead of holding still, you find yourself grinding your rear into her hand. She stops immediately, a deep sigh escaping her as she pulls her fingers out of your ass and grips your nape with her wet hand. You shiver and stiffen, holding your breath as she pulls you into a standing position.

Her free hand grabs the base of the plug and pulls it out of your mouth where it clangs against your teeth, causing you to flinch. You swallow the excess spit and take a shuddering breath as you feel the warm metal pressing between your ass cheeks. With how she worked you open, it slips in easily enough, and your muscles clench slightly around its narrow neck, but it's only after she smacks your soft cheek a few times in rapid succession, making you whine and shudder as your skin tightens, that you're tensing up enough to hold it in place.

She lets go of you and spins you around, then holds out her hand to you, her fingers glistening in lube and your own wetness. “Clean,” she says, and even though your stomach makes a loud grumble of protest, you find yourself leaning in and closing your lips around her slim fingers. A strange taste of artificial strawberry and something else, something tangy and your own, floods your senses, but you close your eyes and flick your tongue around her digits, focusing on the task and not on the taste and the origin of it.

Eventually she pulls her hand away and pats your cheek, leaving a trail of saliva on your warm skin. Your eyes flutter open as she leans around you and adjusts your thong, pulling it back in place, then pushes your skirt down again. Her eyes meet yours, the gaze intense, creating another soothing wave of heat that rolls over you gently, that makes you clench around the plug in your butt. A smile grazes her full lips, and you find yourself smiling back.

“Alright, now put your hair up, get your shoes and your coat, and wait by the front door,” she tells you as she steps away, holding your gaze until you nod obediently. Your mind is reeling at this point, confusion and arousal warring inside of you. What is happening?

You don't know, and you don't seem to care too much either as you start moving, following her orders. You end up on your knees again, right by the door, waiting like a dog, and the image couldn't have been more fitting when you see her approaching with a strange leather band in her hands. You blink when she crouches down before you and fixes what you can only assume is a collar around your neck. It sits tight enough to notice it, but you can still breathe freely and swallow against it without it restricting you in any way.

You're still confused why you need this (and why you accept it so easily). Your roommate (Mistress) cups your face and looks at you with a warm gaze that makes you bite your lip, her hands rubbing over your cheeks before she tugs her thumbs under your chin and lifts it so she can lean in and press her lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut as you part your lips and meet her tongue, the kiss deep and soft, gentle gliding of tongues and lips, a warm gesture, sending sparks through your nerves that make you throb with a need that feels both familiar and eerily unknown, frightening.

A single thought ricochets through your empty head: You would do anything for this woman.

“My beautiful pet,” she whispers against your tingling lips, the tip of her tongue tracing the corner of your mouth. “Are you ready?”

Without thinking, without wondering what for, you nod eagerly, a breathless “Yes, Mistress.” leaving your swollen lips. She gives you another peck and stands up then, snapping her fingers in a way that leaves no room for interpretation. You stand immediately, swaying slightly on the high heels you were told to wear. You're still smaller than her, but having to look up only amplifies the sensation coursing through you. Your devotion for her.

She grabs a large bag and shoves it into your hands, and you know by the weight and feel of it, that it holds camera equipment. A distant memory shimmers behind your glassy eyes, of stumbling into her room, finding those envelopes in the drawer of her desk, of flipping through countless pictures of your naked body, of your holes being stuffed and stretched, of being tied down, of letting her do with you whatever she wants. What has disturbed you earlier is barely worth a flinch now.

It's what you do. It's what you are. Her muse. Her pet. She chose you and you obey. It's what you do, it's what she does. She's your Mistress, after all.

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

End notes: Yes, our dominant lady here is indeed inspired by a character from my other (m/f) Dom/sub story: Infatuated: Mistress.

By the way, a little disclaimer at the end here as we go to the next (heavier) chapters: I am not a BDSM professional or expert, I am a writer with a dirty mind and access to the Internet. This is fiction, gaslighting people is bad, consent is very important, but when a hot lady tells you to do something, you gotta do it, that's the law (jk). Please see this as what it is: a fantasy and nothing more.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Saturday!

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

[mononijikayu]

kinktober 2024 — kayu's version.

Satoru's grin softens as he looks at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes are filled with something tender and deep, a look that makes your heart swell with affection.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, languid kiss that seems to say everything he can't put into words. His hands are gentle as they explore your body, tracing every curve, every line, as if memorizing you by touch alone.

He pulls back slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath hot against your skin.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion. "And tonight… tonight is all about you."

K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 4 —

K A Y U ' S V E R S I O N

hello, this is kayu!!!

i write to you all as i prepare for my first ever participation with kinktober!!! its quite exciting and thrilling and i am just so happy to be able to finally be a part of a new world.

a lot of what im writing is going to be only for 18 and above and as such not safe for work. i hope my dear readers understand that this means that if you are not 18 and above — do not yet read. i will have safe for work content in between these periods. please read those!!!

in any case, i am most excited to share with you the things ive been working on for all of you. im very happy with how these stories are so far and im sure by the time they are finished — they'll be something ill be most proud of.

kinktober may seem like a quite an odd concept to some but its exciting to express a horizon of expression in a different way. and im excited to express stories that will be a different shade of me once again. i hope you enjoy them!!! i love you all!!! see you in october!!!

xoxoxoxo kayu

W H A T ' S C O O K I N G ! ?

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

●OCTOBER 4TH 2024

♡ SINGER SUKUNA X SINGER READER

( e l a b o r a t e r o l e p l a y )

♯┆ why are you obsessed with me .ᐟ

— ryomen sukuna.

— no one knew how the feud of the bands started but people were here for it regardless. sukuna liked to push your buttons, you liked to push his. and really, it didn't matter. because he was here. and you were fun.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

●OCTOBER 11TH 2024

♡ PRIEST SUGURU X WIDOW READER

( f o r b i d d e n d a l l i a n c e )

♯┆ devotion .ᐟ

— geto suguru

— twenty years passed and you moved towns with your husband, to try and forget geto suguru, your lover turned priest. now you're a widow and after all that time, your heartbeats at the sight of father geto suguru, the town's priest.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

● OCTOBER 18TH 2024

♡ HUSBAND NANAMI X READER

( m a k e u p — c a r f u c k )

♯┆right people, wrong place .ᐟ

— nanami kento.

— you and your husband nanami kento have been estranged for a while. it was hard, hard to fathom that you and him would be separating, that he would choose duty over you. even when you drink, its his name you call to pick you up tonight.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

●OCTOBER 25TH 2024

♡ GOJO SATORU X WIFE READER

( f i r s t t i m e )

♯┆honeymoon .ᐟ

— gojo satoru

— arranged marriages are hard, even when you're the one who made it happen. after years of marriage (and subsequently falling in love), the two of you finally decide to go and embark on a honeymoon.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

●OCTOBER 31ST 2024

♡ FUSHIGURO TOJI X WIFE READER

( b r e e d i n g k i n k )

♯┆pillowtalk .ᐟ

— fushiguro toji

— if fushiguro toji was being honest, he'd always wanted a big family. after living a rather painful life in a loveless family, he wants to build a big, warm home. looking at it now, megumi's almost a year old. a new sibling in close age would be good, doesn't it?

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

C O M I N G S O O N ! ?

[pastelaspirations]

I... I have never found something that described the exact dynamic I prefer so well before, but here you came, from out of the shadows like some mysterious angel before fading back into the darkness.

I am just. Putting my hands on your shoulders and staring at you in awe. You understand, you get it. I never knew how to describe it before but you plucked the incoherent rambles out of my brain and put it into words-

I see in a lot of fanfics of Ink being the more assertive flirty one (in its own way, more a tease then flirty) but personally I kinda prefer Error being the more assertive one. Not exactly just with flirting but more in the way Ink is a dunce and stupid and says stupid things

Error acknowledges this but in the wrong way and just thinks he's being genuine so he flirts back which flusters Ink since Ink doesn't know why he's doing that {then he forgets and it happens again}

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey Guys!

Another weekend without a fic list ready or any asks, so I took it upon myself collect some fics for a Spooky-Themed list that I will probably have never gotten an ask about anyway. Since I've a lot of Halloween lists, I thought I would try something different and put out some Horror and Thriller Themed fics! I went through my MFL list and tag-searched "horror" and "thrilller", so these fics are ones that the author has tagged as such, so I can't guarantee frights... but I hope that y'all will enjoy this list anyway! I haven't read any of these so please heed the tags!

AND if you have a fave horror or psychological thriller story you've written or want to recommend, PLEASE do in the notes or reblogs and I'll add them to this list!

Happy Spooky Season, everyone!

HORROR / THRILLER FICS (MFLs)

See also:

Halloween Fics (Oct 2018)

Halloween and Ghosts (updated Oct 31/21)

Halloween Fics 2023 (MFLs)

5FF: Spooky Saturday Edition (Oct 31/20)

Ghosts / Figments (Updated Oct 2023)

Within by songlin (T, 992 w., 1 Ch. || Horror) – Amazingly enough, John notices it first. It must be something to do with combat instincts, or paying attention to nagging feelings despite any amount of contradictory evidence, or just paranoia. Whatever it is, it boils down to this: something is wrong.

Little Slices of Death by Enterthetadpole (E, 994 w., 1 Ch. || Friends To Lovers, Horror, Humour, Happy Ending, Case Fic, Romance) – Sherlock Holmes gets involved in a case where the victims and crimes that are eerily similar to the works of a certain horror author stories. Will he solve the case before the people around him die around him?

I O U by MintoKitsune (T, 1,299 w., 1 Ch. || Horror / Drama, Kidnapping) – Moriarty kidnaps John and leaves Sherlock a little message... A short one shot about Jim being his mean ol' self. (FFNet)

These Hands of Yours by okapi (E, 2,700 w., 1 Ch. || ACD Canon || Supernatural Elements, Horror, Hands, Anal Fisting / Fingering, Halloween) – Holmes has casts made of his hands. Watson falls in love. So do the hands.

The Babadook by CatieBrie (T, 6,886 w., 1 Ch. || Babadook Fusion || Post-TRF, Horror, Demonic Possession, Violence, Halloween, Grief, Angst with Happy Ending) – “A children’s book,” John mutters as he flips it open. The pages are scrawled with beautiful charcoal lines and thick black ink. The cover, bright red, edges the open pages and something tugs at the back of John’s brain. It’s a familiar feeling, black and tarrish and thick in his thoughts. He shakes it off and picks the book up off his bed, turning so that he can sit on the edge and spread the book out across his knees. If it’s in a word or it’s in a look, you can’t get rid of the Babadook. He turns the page, ignoring the pressure building beneath his chest. There’s a closet on one page; paper doors meant to be opened by the reader flutter as John reads the text on the other page.

Black Cat by CatieBrie (E, 7,158 w., 1 Ch. || Psychological Horror, Supernatural Elements, Disturbing Themes, Body Horror, Sex, Major Consent Issues / Possible Rape, MCD, Intent Magic, Ambiguity) – He’s watching Sherlock crawl up his body, doesn’t have to see to know he has a blade tucked away somewhere, knows his body will react no matter what. “Do you know what this is, John?” Sherlock holds up a doll made of rudimentary cloth stuffed with god knows what. It’s wearing a crude rendition of John’s favorite striped shirt, denim pants and the hair is too fine and blonde-shocked-grey to be anything else but his. John tries to answer, has no voice, shakes his head. “It’s a poppet.” Sherlock explains, pushes the arms together and John’s limbs react, snapping to his sides and remaining there even as he tries desperately to struggle free.

The Spirit Child by VelvetMace (M, 7,287 w., 1 Ch. || Psychological Horror, Disturbing Themes, Horror, Gore) – A small wooden box filled with clay and feotus bones yields more than just clues to a violent murder. A Halloween Story. Read at your own risk -- and I do not say this lightly.

Leaves by DiscordantWords (NR, 7,513 w., 1 Ch. || Dreams and Nightmares, Dream Sharing, Halluciinations, Horror / Unsettling, Ambiguous/Open Ending) – It came on a Wednesday, with the post. 

Ruins of the Dark by philalethia (M, 8,205 w., 1 Ch. || Dark Sherlock AU ||  Post-TRF, Horror, Supernatural Elements, Blood and Gore, Suicidal Thoughts, Extremely Dubious Consent) – Three years after “The Reichenbach Fall,” Sherlock comes back. But he comes back wrong.

The Web by DiscordantWords (M, 8,421 w., 2 Ch. || Post-TRF, Horror, Spiders, Horrific Imagery, Spying, Mild Gore) – Moriarty is dead. That doesn't mean he isn't watching.

I Could Try by Arcwin (T, 9,583 w., 5 Ch. || Greek Mythology Crossover || Post-TRF, Orpheus and Eurydice Myth, POV John, Pining John, BAMF John, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Horror, Angst with Happy Ending) – John is grieving Sherlock's death post Reichenbach until one day, he sees the violin case, and something inside him tells him to pick it up. Crossover between BBC Sherlock and the Greek tragedy Orpehus and Eurydice, wherein Eurydice is killed for her beauty and taken to the Underworld. Orpheus, being the son of Apollo (the God of Music and Medicine) travels to the Underworld to convince (via playing his lyre) Hades and Persephone to let Eurydice go. Orpheus then must travel with Eurydice behind him, not looking back, until they exit to the land of the living.

Puzzlebox by  standbygo (E, 9,867 w., 5 Ch. || Hellraiser Fusion || True Love, Supernatural Elements, Psychological Horror, First Kiss, Post S2, Angst with Happy Ending) – A love story with horror. A horror story with a happy ending.

Apprehension by BashfulBunny (M, 14,339 w., 19 Ch. || Thriller, Romance, Kidnapping, Drug Use, Medical, Undercover, Road Trips, Hurt/Comfort, BAMD Captain John, Action/Adventure, Falling in Love, Angst with Happy Ending, Mercenary John, Fluff and Angst, Protective John/Sherlock) – John and Sherlock have never met and don’t know each other. For some reason John kidnaps Sherlock (maybe he thinks he’s working for good people, while in fact they are bad and lie to him; he’s got an order to kidnap Sherlock Holmes and deliver him to somebody. John himself isn’t a bad person though). John is protective. When he realises that he, in fact, has done a really bad thing (and was lied to, depending on the scenario), he saves Sherlock (from his employers perhaps) and wants to take him back where he’d taken him. But he won’t be able to get rid of Sherlock easily, or at all for that matter. Sherlock won’t go.

Scream! by johnwatso (E, 15,250 w., 8 Ch. || Scream Crossover || Post S4, Horror / Slasher, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Case Fic, Minor Character Death, Copycat Killer, Three Garridebs Moment) – An unknown number starts calling Sherlock and asking questions about horror movies. John is pretty sure it's a serial killer.

The Writing on the Wall by grannysknitting (M, 24,139 w., 11 Ch. || Pre-S2, Horror/Supernatural, Mild Gore) – Lestrade notices John behaving oddly at a crime scene. Unfortunately so does Mycroft. What is it about the people living at 221B? (FFNet)

Still of the Night by michi_thekiller (E, 30,762 w., 22 Ch. || 1950s Dark Vampire Greaser AU || Vampire Sherlock, Greaser Sherlock, Nerd John, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Period-Typical Homophobia, Horror, Seduction) – 1.) Curfew must be obeyed. 2.) Streets must be clear by sundown. 3.) If you find yourself out after curfew, seek shelter at the home of a friend, relative, or neighbor whom you know and trust. 4.) Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES should any unknown persons be allowed into the home after curfew.

From a Well, Dark and Deep by Vulpesmellifera (M, 32,691 w., 18 Ch. || Post S4, Supernatural Elements, Horror / Mild Body Horror, Bed Sharing, Possession, Hand Holding, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Coming Out, Alternating POV, Nightmares, Caring John, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is desperately trying to reconcile his newfound memories and feelings within his transport—a transport that won’t quit with the nightmares and the strange, fiddly anxieties that crop up at the most inopportune moments. On the advice of his psychiatrist—not that he’s thrilled to be taking the man’s advice, but needs must—he's going to mark the anniversary of Eurus’ torments. That explains why he visits the well. What he finds at the well, though, is entirely unexpected. Meanwhile, John Watson has finally come to terms with something he’s ignored his entire life. He’s ready to share that something with Sherlock, except Sherlock isn’t acting himself. It's not the time for confessions, and John determines he must get to the bottom of his best friend's affliction before he can reveal anything. Part 3 of Vulpes' Halloween Johnlock

Slender: However Improbable by philalethia (M, 33,378 w., 5 Ch. || Slender Man AU || Post-TRF, Case Fic, Horror, Science Fiction, Supernatural Elements, Mild Gore) – Six months after The Fall, John is falling apart. Then a homeless woman is thrown from the roof of St. Bartholomew's; a tall, thin man in a black suit begins follow him; and John slowly realises that both he and Scotland Yard are very, very out of their depths.

Where The Ghosts Have Voices by HappyJuicyfruit (M, 37,691 w., 12 Ch. || Supernatural AU || Ghosts, Magical Realism, Light Horror, Fluff and Smut, John Can See Ghosts, John Whump, Emotional Manipulation, Dark Magic, Coma, Injury Recovery, Blow Jobs, Anal, Happy Ending, John’s Past, Mr Holmes, Powerful John, Holmes Brothers, Sherlock’s Past, Past Viclock, Drug Abuse, Hair Pulling) – John has lived his whole life as an outcast. It is only when he meets Sherlock, that be realizes being a freak might not be such a bad thing, and that the curse he has lived with his whole life may be a gift after all.

This Is Family by SaraStarchild (T, 39,840 w., 16 Ch. || Hereditary AU || Psychological Horror, Body Horror, Demonic Possession, POV Third Person Limited, Protective Mycroft, Cults, Mycroft Whump, Sherlock Whump, Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Retelling) – When the Holmes family's secretive mother and matriarch, Ellen Holmes, passes away, the family she leaves behind – father Martin, sons Mycroft and Sherlock, and daughter Eurus – begins to unravel cryptic and increasingly terrifying secrets about their ancestry. The more they discover, the more they find themselves trying to outrun the sinister fate they seem to have inherited. This is, pretty much, a word-for-word retelling of the 2018 Ari Aster film, Hereditary. Part 1 of Sherlock Halloween Stories

Emergency by EmeraldUrAFreak (M, 40,353 w., 24 Ch. || Teenlock AU || Teen Romance, Drug Use, Angst, Hospitalized John, Broken John, John Whump, Absent Parents, Sherlock Fixing John, Insecure John, Younger John, Older Sherlock, Helping Each Other, Papa Lestrade, Case Fic, Alternating POV, Mild Gore, Horror, Non-Graphic Violence, Corpses) – Recovering drug addict Sherlock Holmes meets supposedly permanently hospital stuck John Watson. As they become friends- and maybe even more - they have ups and downs finding out each other’s pasts. Sherlock is shocked at how deep John's goes resulting in a case of new stakes. Fixing old relations and creating new ones that are hard to keep in this dreadful time. They never knew what was waiting around the corner.

The Straw Man Fallacy by Vulgarweed (E, 40,422 w., 8 Ch. || Wicker Man AU || Ritual Sex, Sacrifice, Mystery and Horror, Romance, Fuck or Die, Dubious Morality, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pagan Festivals, Public Sex, First Time, Case Fic, Virgin Sherlock, Scotland, Kilts) – Summerisle is not a welcoming place to visitors, but it shows its best face at May Day. For ulterior motives.

Curse of the Were-Tuna by WhoGroovesOn (E, 46,916 w., 9 Ch. || Were-Creature AU || Nudity, Aquariums, Fish, Body Horror, Curses, Cuddling, Romance, Transformations, Frottage, Anal, Fem! Moriaty/Moran, First Time) – John couldn’t help but feel as though the large tuna beyond the glass was staring at him, which was weird because it’s not like fish had eyelids, they always seemed to be staring at things.

Distortion by holmesian_love (NR, 51,585 w., 23 Ch. || Post S4, Faked Suicide / Suicide Attempt, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Examination, PTSD, Psychological Horror, Blood, Spiders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Parentlock with Rosie, Angry John, Confusion) – John Watson is persuaded to move back into Baker Street with Rosie. The friendship -though delicate - is mending slowly after everything they've been through. That is, until strange events start happening to John which begin to disrupt the happy life they have been creating. Is there a medical explanation, or is something more sinister at play? Will they discover the cause before it tears them apart for good?

To Be Human by ohlooktheresabee (NR, 78,437 w., 13 Ch. || Post-THoB, Graphic Violence, Synesthesia, Case Fic, Serial Killers, Kidnapping, BAMF John, Sherlock is a Mess, Asexuality/Demisexuality, Torture, Protective John, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Medical Procedures, Queerplatonic Relationships, Asperger Syndrome, Thriller, Insecure Sherlock, Touching, Caring John, Affection, Hurt Sherlock, Touch Starvation) – There is a serial killer on the loose with a penchant for collecting the brains of his victims. Sherlock, John and Scotland Yard are on the case, but something about the chosen victims has Sherlock on edge. While they piece together the clues that will lead to the killer, John begins to realize that the way his best friend thinks may sometimes be more a hindrance than a help...

The Killing Principle by Vulpesmellifera (E, 104,593 w., 46 Ch. || American AU || Gay John, Serial Killer Mary, Bum Appreciation, Sherlock is William, Dating Difficulties, BAMF Sherlock, Slow Burn, Thriller, Confessions, Whump, Angst with Happy Ending, Minor Character Death) – John Watson served twice in AmeriCorps, married his high school sweetheart, and then entered med school. A sudden arrest and accusation of multiple murders ends his promising career, irrevocably altering his life's trajectory. Acquitted of his wife’s crimes, John spends the next ten years as the maligned ex-husband of convicted serial killer Mercy Mary. A job offer draws him out of hiding and back to Connecticut - the very state where the crimes were committed. He needs the money, and the job is a dream. Then he meets the brilliant William Vernet, and it seems like he has a second chance at life and love. But the past has a way of catching up.

Monsters in the Woods by ArwaMachine (E,114,760 w., 16 Ch. || 1980′s Summer Camp Horror AU || Character Death, Violence, Gore, Spooky Stuff, Blow Jobs, Anal, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Period-Typical Homophobia) – John isn’t particularly sure why he took the counsellor position at Camp Baker Stream, an American-style summer camp for rich kids. He isn’t fond of the wilderness, nor is he fond of kids. He also isn’t sure if he’s fond of his cabin-mate, a strange bloke named Sherlock Holmes who seems perpetually on edge and more than a bit of an arse. It certainly doesn’t help that apparently the camp has a sordid past—a series of gristly murders that took place eight years ago, perpetrated by one James Moriarty. Sherlock seems convinced that the events of the past are doomed to repeat, but that idea seems to fall in the realm of the impossible. That is, until camp counsellors start going missing… Inspired by every 80s slasher flick that is so bad it’s good, this fic merges summer camp horror tropes with the BBC Sherlock universe, adding a sprinkle of smut for good measure!

Welcome to Silent Hill by Cleo2010 (M, 130,227 w., 37 Ch. || Silent Hill Fusion || POV First Person Sherlock, Unrequited Love, Psychological Horror, Violence / Gore, Monsters, Nudity, Drug Use, Harm to Children, Cults, Distressing Imagery, Torture, Death) – John is missing. When Sherlock receives a text summoning him to Silent Hill he's intent on reclaiming his friend but the town has other ideas. Our detective must battle through a world shaped by his own troubled psyche as he uncovers the town's secrets, attempts to find John and hunt down Jim Moriarty. Part 1 of the Welcome to Silent Hill series

In the Deep, Where Dark Things Sleep by HardlyFair (M, 184,979 w., 26 Ch. || Scorpio Races AU || Graphic Violence, 1960′s, Slow Burn, Past Drug Use, Bed Sharing, Water Horses, Folklore, First Kiss/Time, Horror Elements, Vet!John, Protective John, Magical Realism, Horse Racing, Mutual Pining, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort) – The closer time crawls to November, the more water horses the Scorpio Sea spits out. The colder Thisby becomes. Sherlock Holmes is an islander - completely surrounded by the water. John Watson, he knows, comes from the mainland and lives for the Races. On the first of November, Sherlock will race. The man holding steady by his side is someone he never expects. A Scorpio Races AU (Maggie Stiefvater), but no knowledge of the book needed.

WORKS IN PROGRESS

Closure by S_IRIS (E, 28,718+ w., 12/45 Ch. || WiP || Alternate Universe || Viclock then Eventual Johnlock, Falling in Love, Horror, Case Fic, Adventure of the Gloria Scott Adaptation, Emotional / Psychological Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Angst with Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Sherlock in Denial) – After a brush with death, Sherlock is convinced by Victor to recover in their country house and give their crumbling marriage one last chance. But the retreat turns into a nightmare when Sherlock starts to feel a malevolent presence in the house and finds no one believing him except the son of the missing groundskeeper.

The Things That Haunt Us by BRNZ (E, 92,993+ w., 18/? Ch. || Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dead People, Child Death, PTSD John, Psychological Horror, Nightmares, Bed Sharing, Heavy Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Childhood Trauma, Domestic Bliss, BAMF John, Friendship / Love, POV John, Pining John, Therapy) – What happens when a post war vet with PTSD takes up with a madman detective and they spend time investigating and solving some truly horrific crimes? How does the doctor who can kill with steady hand process all that additional trauma? How do we recognise that our past still haunts us, in ways we don't realise? When you are caught in a vicious cycle of needing the thrill of the chase, and having to deal with the fallout...what happens when you might need to choose between the two for your own sanity? The story of how two damaged men managed to find their way back to each other and begin to make a future together.

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

(AN: this'll be a multiple-oneshots deal—out of order—with regular additions until it's complete.)

🛎️prompt - Wally Clark NSFW alphabet.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. grey!Wally Clark. cheating. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧿

Alphabet Soup - A

A is for the addiction Wally develops for hot cherry kisses.

He grabs you by the wrist between classes, pulls you into the empty boy's locker room, and crowds you against a locker. Coaxes a thigh between your legs and fists a hand into your hair, angling your head perfectly before he descends.

Deep kisses shallow and then break as he moves to graze the tip of his nose along your neck.

"That's it, baby," He says, sandpaper-rough, nudging thick, hard muscle against your pussy. Tiny motions, barely perceptible, but so fucking good. "You like that, don't you?" Humid breath tickles the sensitive skin behind your ear, "Come on. Want you to wreck those pretty little panties for me."

And he slips a hand between your bodies, under the waistband of your low-rise jean skirt, and curls two fingers into you, coating them liberally before he slip-slides them up a fraction and begins rubbing your clit in slow, delirious circles.

You shudder against him, nails digging into his back over his t-shirt. God, his jeans are ruined, the wet stain spreading, and, shit, fuck, he hears you choke on a moan as your body stiffens in ecstasy.

He slams his mouth to yours just as you cry out, swallowing the rest of the sound before anyone can hear it. Wally gentles the kiss, parts with a smack, and rests his forehead against yours while you catch your breath.

"Such a good girl," He praises, combing your hair back with his clean hand, thumb smoothing across the arc of your cheek. Careful. Kind. A ruse because then he drops to his knees, slides his hands up your skirt, and yanks your panties down to your ankles.

You step out of them, a little lightheaded, a lot spent, not even bothering to complain when he shoves them in his pocket. Wally maneuvers you to the door with a hand on your ass and a bite to your shoulder, says he'll see you in class—that he has to change into his gym shorts because of the mess you made.

"Your fault," You remind him, and hell yeah it is, he already wants to do it again.

He takes care of himself under a lukewarm shower and, ten minutes later waltzes into History late, shit-eating grin wide, dismissing Ms. Fields' warnings with a loose salute. He slides into his seat at the back of the class where he revels in the looks the other students give him. That Janet bores into the side of his head.

Wally's mouth is still sticky—he was careful not to get it wet—the taste of your lip gloss syrupy-sweet whenever he presses his lips together. He can't get enough, wants more—needs more—the thought loud and all-consuming.

He answers Ms. Fields when she calls on him, reciting what he knows about the Dust Bowl, but as soon as Ms. Fields moves on, his eyes skate back to you. And Janet's right there, sitting next to him, watching him watch you. Outright. Shameless.

When you peek over your shoulder, he holds your gaze as he licks his lips with intention, the action layered with all the dirty fantasies he's had since walking into the room.

There's a fresh sheen of gloss on a smile that raises one corner of your mouth as you pick up what Wally's putting down.

Janet seethes in her seat.

🧿___________________________

note: to the delicious soul who sent me the prompt, i hope you enjoyed this fill 💙🩵🤍

also available on AO3!

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

[skinnywalker]

Xenk Yendar swf and nsfw alphabet please?

Xenk Yendar SFW and NSFW headcanons

SFW

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Whatever he can think of to show his adoration. Gifts, physical affection, poems or songs of love, acts of service. Literally anything you want or could want.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He meets you in his travel and at once likes you. He's a good friend when you have needs or want to do something daring with. He does have some problems when it comes to jokes or small talk though.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Of course he does! All he wants to do is to hold you if you're ok with that.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He already has a home and is used to domestic living so he is more than happy and ready for you to join him in that life.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He couldn't break it off with you. Only if it saved you from danger he knew he couldn't beat and even then its unlikely he fully break it off.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He really wants to live out the rest of his life with you so he is more than happy to get married.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

A human dove. Just the most kind and caring person alive and treats you the gentlest.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Like I said always wants to be near you. If you like hugs he's always all over you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

So fast. Like second day of knowing you but he'll understand if you don't say it back or are uncomfortable.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He is a Saint in patience and holds no malicious feelings towards anything with any good in it so he couldn't hate anyone who flirts or hits on you. He simply can't distrust you to that point.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Long warm smooches that feeling like hot tea fanning your face.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He loves kids! Not amazing with them due to his issues with speaking but he adores all kids. He'd really love to have his own child with you some day.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He is up quickly and makes you and him breakfast. If you'll still in bed he'll bring you your food and feed it to you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He cuddles you against his chest kissing your head as you stare up at the stars together slowly falling asleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He is open to you from day one. His trauma is something he is very honest about you learn more about it because he is closer with you than most.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Of a saint. Literally noting can anger him.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Everything. Xenk is so good at remembering things and he takes special note of the little thing you like.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He loves the time you save him from a horad of raiders by using his sword and bridal style carrying him after freeing him from their trap.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

You have the strongest, most capable paladin fighting for you. You're safe.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

All his effort. He only wants to make you as happy as possible in even date.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Confusion. He often doesn't know what is going on in the world so you have to explain a LOT.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not ever much. He very humble in nature.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

You've become the thing he fights for. He'd feel lifeless without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He loves history and he collects all types of books and scrolls.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He can't stand someone greedy or someone who mocks others.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He has a regular schedule and can sleep anywhere.

NSFW

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

So sweet. Any type of comfort he can provide he'll give kindly.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his chest. He loves how his armor shows off his pecs and stomach. And how you grip it during the act. His favorite part of you is your hips. He squeezes and grips you hips and love handles just for fun all the time. Hadores how his finger pushs against you skin down there.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He wants more than anything to finish inside you but only will with your permission.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves the smell of your clothes and likes stealing them when you're not around. Most of the time it's just to fill your missing presence but other time he just needs a little push when he's alone and in the mood.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He has had a few partners but no real experience in a long-term relationship.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl. He wants to experience what it's like to be the ridden rather than the rider.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious like he always is but that doesn't mean he can't smile or laugh during sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very well groomed. Cut and shaved close and comfortable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

God if he could become one with you during sex he would. Even though he cannot he really seems like he is trying to.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He rarely does but sometimes it's just been a little to long since he has seen you and he needs to release.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding (regardless of gender) praise (both giving and receiving), oral (both giving and receiving) and sometimes being tied up.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Mostly just beds or tables but it's really up to you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you. Doesn't matter what context he just finds you so attractive. You could be dusty, dirty and musty and he is still down.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No hurting you at all and no degrading.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He really likes receiving but you'll never get him to say it because he doesn't want you to feel unsatisfied.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Whatever you want. If you beg him to go faster he'll go and if you just want lazy sex he'll obey.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not really cause he likes taking time with you and he gets scared about performance during quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Only if you want to and only small risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As many as you can. He has a lot of strength and he can take as much as you can dish out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No it's always just you and him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not a drop of unfairness in his soul.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not super loud but when he knows no one can over hear you he likes to praise you vocally.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He has a slight oral fixation.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

8 inches uncut and thick. He's got a dark tip and is very sensitive.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fairly high but he won't act on it if you don't want to. He is very patient and he can wait for you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not for a while. He likes to stay awake and watch you rest.

[uponawhitehorse13]

Celica A. Mercury SFW alphabet

A = Affection(How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Celica is incredibly affectionate and it's incredibly hard to stop her.

B = Best friend(What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

She will kind of adopt you into her found family.

C = Cuddles(Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

She loves to cuddle. Almost always falls asleep when you do.

D = Domestic(Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

She'd almost immediately want to start living together. She's great with domestic stuff.

E = Ending(If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It would be a difficult situation for her because she struggles to see faults in people.

F = Fiance(e)(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Would love to get married. The hardest part about getting married to her would be finding space for all the guests she'd invite.

G = Gentle(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

She couldn't be rough even if she tried.

H = Hugs(Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

She will jump you with a hug at any given opportunity.

I = I love you(How fast do they say the L-word?)

She says it a lot even platonically so it's hard to tell at what point she starts considering you her partner.

J = Jealousy(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Doesn't really get jealous. If someone tried getting close to you their plans would be ruined by her obliviously trying to get close to them.

K = Kisses(What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kind of a bad kisser. She just gets too excited and can't really go with the pace.

L = Little ones(How are they around children?)

Canonically a good mom.

M = Morning(How are mornings spent with them?)

Doesn't really like sleeping in. She'd much rather be out and about with you.

N = Night(How are nights spent with them?)

She likes getting all comfy with you. Blankets, pillows and hot drinks all around.

O = Open(When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

She doesn't feel the need to hide anything.

P = Patience(How easily angered are they?)

She can't get angry, she's too nice.

Q = Quizzes(How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Might misremember some stuff by accident.

R = Remember(What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It would be a simple moment of you getting along with all the other people that matter to her.

S = Security(How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Would want you to keep out of danger and even if you don't she has her healing magic.

T = Try(How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

She prefers simple things made with love. Handmade gifts and inexpensive dates where you two just get to enjoy the silence.

U = Ugly(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

She has a bad habit of getting lost. Also watch out for her since she’ll trust anyone including not so trustworthy people.

V = Vanity(How concerned are they with their looks?)

She mostly cares about comfort above other things.

W = Whole(Would they feel incomplete without you?)

She'd feel really bad about losing you but wouldn't let it stop her.

X = Xtra(A random headcanon for them.)

The scariest thing you'll have to go through is meeting her "family". The scariest being Nine of course.

Y = Yuck(What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Nothing really.

Z = Zzz(What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Drools in her sleep. Most often on you.

[dreamgenerator]

König NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: 18+, Mention of biting, Mention of stealing your underwear

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- Clean you up. Whispers sweet nicknames/words. Give you a lot of kisses.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- Your butt. Loves to bite it(softly).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- Usually uses condom but always want to cum inside you.

- Asks (or even beg) for your permission to cum inside you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- Stole your unwashed underwear and sniffed it while alone time. More than once.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- Definitely his first time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- Loves to spoon you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- Might make some nervous jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- it's either well groomed or nature itself.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- Shower you with kisses and sweet nicknames.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- Like i said, with your unwashed underwear in his other hand, sniffing it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- The underwear thing is kink right...?

- Size difference kink (obviously)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- Somewhere private-very private.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- Everything about you. You can't even tell what turns him on.

- (But he loves your scent.)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- Humiliation or degradation. Either from you or from him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- Loves to give you oral. Sometime he doesn't stop until you push his head away.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- slow and gentle, holding you tightly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- Loves it. But it's usually oral since he knows that quick penetration could hurt you due to his size.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- He would love to try something new with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- Too much. Always ask for one more round.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- Don't like toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- It's usually him who get teased.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- Kind of vocal. Moans and sweet nicknames, something like that.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- Sometime gives oral with his mask on.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- Big. Too big. He has to make sure you're 'melted'. Even after that, can't put it all the way in at first.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- Very high. Like i said, you can't even tell what turns him on.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- Right after you fell asleep. Loves to watch your sleeping face while falling asleep.

NSFW Alphabet Template by @the-coldest-goodbye

[wizardfrog69]

HEY MISTER!!!! I'M BACK FO HAUNT YOU WITG MY REQUESTS (sorry if it's getting annoying)

Another request about DOA & a kiddo:

Nikolai dragging Fyodor to an orphanage, because he wants to make fun of the kids with his countless amount of "NOT your mom, lol" jokes. Fyodor asks one kid their name and BOOM IT'S (random Russian name idfk) DOSGOYEVSKY

So turns out Fyodor has a younger sibling (could be around 14-16, or younger), so they take the kid who is: *drum noises* T R A U M A T I S E D

Yes the kiddo probably got taken away by CPS and got put in an orphanage because yes (you can choose whyyyyy), and somehow Fyodor doesn't know

The questions:- DOA's reaction and how Fyodor treats/raises the kid, and do the others help?

Yeah that's it, sorry that the request is so weird but i can't really think of a normal way to explain this (sorry again)

Omg you called me Mister! :) that made me smile as soon as I saw it :)))

Thank you for your request, and dw, I will never get sick of your request.

'•.¸♡ traumatised siblings ♡¸.•'

Fyodor x teen/Fyodor's sibling/reader

Fluff ig

Masterlist

Enjoy!

(For some reason it will be third person for a while)

'Fyodor!' A loud shout came from behind Fyodor. He did not bother to look behind him, knowing all too well what he was about to get into. 'Quiz time! Where are we going today?!' Nikolai exclaimed excitingly. 'No where, I'm working.' Fyodor replied. 'Wrong! I'll give you a hint. There are a lot of abandoned things there.' Nikolai responded. 'I'm still not going with you.' 'Not even to an orphanage?' 'No.' 'But you can't work all day! You need to have fun from time to time!' 'No.' 'Come onnnnn, let's goooo, please?!' Nikolai pleaded.

Nikolai's strategy was to annoy Fyodor until he gave in, which surprisingly worked. 'Fine.' Fyodor sighed defeated. 'Yay!' Nikolai cheered while giving a little jump. 'Let's go to the car!' 'I'm driving.' 'No fair, you always drive.' 'You can drive alone if you'd like.' 'Fine, fine, let's go.' The two of them left and headed for an orphanage.

Nikolai walked into the building proudly with Fyodor following him. 'Why are we at an orphanage.' Fyodor sighed. 'Hey, kid!' Nikolai shouted to a child looking at him confused, completely ignoring Fyodor's queries. Nikolai walked off to make fun of some kids, asking about their parents and making fun of them. Fyodor didn't care for such entertainment and walked off to sit somewhere.

Fyodor found a bench to sit down on, but before he could sit, a child caught his eye. The child was sitting by themselves scribbling on a piece of paper. A dark shadow covered their desks, causing them to turn around in a small fright. 'Can I help you?' The child asked calmly. 'What are you doing?' Fyodor asked, taking a seat next to them. 'My homework?' They replied. Fyodor could not shake this feeling of familiarity for some reason. 'What is your name?' He asked, examining the kid and the sheet of paper. 'Ehm, [Russian name*] Mikhaylovich Dostoyevsky/Mikhaylovna Dostoevskaya, why?' Once Fyodor heard that name, he knew who the person in front of him was.

'I'm your older brother.' After Fyodor announced this, the kid was shocked, to say simply. 'Wait, what? How do you know?' They asked, confused. 'Would you like to leave this place?' Fyodor ignored their questions with ease. 'Yes, what's your name?' 'Fyodor Mikhaylovich Dostoyevsky.' 'Oh! мать (mat' - it's supposed to mean mother) told me about you.' 'Is she alright?' 'Oh... I guess you haven't heard. She's dead now.' The atmosphere turned cold. Fyodor felt sadness. He did not expect to hear about his mother's death. 'What about father?' 'He's also dead, mother died and two years after, father died. I'm sorry no one told you, we didn't know where you were.' 'It's alright.'

The conversation was cut short for Nikolai came back. 'Hey! I see you found one! I'm bored, dostoy, can we go back?' Nikolai asked. Without a word, Fyodor stood up and left. 'I'm still driving.' 'Hey, no fair!'

(Now it's second person for some reason)

You were now living with Fyodor. He was always busy with something, but he tried to make time for you. It still surprises you that you found your brother. You always thought you would never see him or that he was dead. Now you were sitting in his kitchen doing your homework. You were stuck on one question, and since you were meant to call Fyodor to eat, you decided to ask him. You knocked on his door, telling him the time. Fyodor looked back at you and turned to the computer, typed for a short while, and walked up to you. 'Do you need something?' Fyodor asked. The two of you began walking out into the kitchen.

'Well, I'm stuck on a question in my homework...' 'What is it?' 'I'll show you.' Once the two of you reached the kitchen, you grabbed your book and pointed to the question. Fyodor studied the question and proceeded to ask you,'Well, what kind of responsibilities does an employee have to an employer?' 'I don't know, that's why I'm asking.' 'What kind of responsibilities do you have at school then?' 'To be on time for every class, to do my work, to respect my teachers.' 'Now just think of it as work and answer the question.' 'Okay, thanks.'

(Now it's first person, sorry my brain is broken)

Fyodor often talked about going back home to pay his respects to our parents, I don't want to go back there, but how can I tell him that? He'll hate me for it, for sure! I don't want to tell him why I ran away, nor what happened.

(Back to second person)

You were so afraid, and to your fortune, Fyodor noticed. 'Do you not want to go back?' He asked, his voice is always cold, but for some reason, this time you felt shivers running down your shine with every breath he took. 'I do, of course.' You tried your best not to stutter or seem unsure, but Fyodor caught wind of it all despite your best efforts to hide your fears. 'What did they do.' Fyodor's question sounded more like a demand than a question, but you unwillingly answered it anyway.

While you stutteringly explained everything, with tears in your eyes, Fyodor remained motionless. He only sat there and listened. 'You can still go to them if you want to.' You ended. 'No, I'm not going.' Fyodor stood up and looked down at you. '...I'm sorry.' You could tell it was hard for Fyodor to say those simple words, but they were nice either way.

'You are coning with me to work today.' 'Why?' 'I want you to meet my coworkers, and if I'm not here, you should talk to them if you need anything.' 'Oh, okay. But where will you go?' 'I don't know yet.'

You walked into a building with was in the sky. The inside of the building was rich with expensive furniture and style. The people walking around were excited to lose their money, and the workers were happy to be working. Fyodor knocked on a door and walked in. A strangly looking man looked up and stood up as soon as he saw Fyodor. 'Dostoyevsky?' 'This is my sibling, [name] Mikhaylovich Dostoyevsky/Mikhaylovna Dostoevskaya, [name] Mikhaylovich Dostoyevsky/Mikhaylovna Dostoevskaya this is Sigma.' 'Nice to meet you.' Sigma replied.

Sigma had no idea what to say. He never thought of Fyodor as someone who had a family, and seeing his sibling just made him really confused. ' [name] wait outside, I need to talk to Sigma.' Fyodor commanded, and you obliged. Fyodor could be telling Sigma anything at the moment, but you did not interfere and waited patiently for Fyodor.

A couple of long minutes later, Fyodor came back and informed you of his later plans. 'I need to tell Nikolai something, and we'll head back after stopping by somewhere for a short while.' 'Okay.' You still had no idea why you needed to come with him, but you went alongside him anyway.

You arrived at another building, Fyodor knocked on the door, and the same guy you saw at the orphanage opened the door. 'Dostoy?' He asked. 'We need to talk about the next job.' Fyodor demanded. 'Okay, come in. Wait! You brought one back?' Nikolai asked while rudly pointing at you. 'They are my sibling, can we come in?' 'What?!??! Dostoy had a family!' Nikolai exclaimed. Ignoring Nikolai Fyodor walked in, and you shyly followed. 'Sit here.' Fyodor ordered while gesturing to a couch while he left with Nikolai to discuss work matters.

Nikolai's living room was not all that bad. There was an open book on magic performances in the middle of the coffee table, but other than that, the place was not entirely special. After plenty more minutes, Fyodor came back with Nikolai and told you to get up. You did as told and followed him out the door and back into the car. You never questioned Fyodor on what he did or why, but at times like these, you wanted to. Fyodor started the car and the two of you drove off.

When the car stopped, you looked up from your phone, but instead of the house, you saw a supermarket. You looked at Fyodor confused and asked why you were in front of a shop. Fyodor explained that you two needed to shop for food from time to time. When you went in, Fyodor told you to get anything you needed (or wanted), and he took out a shopping list, taking everything he needed from the shelves.

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

* Fyodor's siblings are Lyubov Dostoyevskaya, Nikolai Dostoevsky, Vera Dostoevskaya, Varvara Dostoevskaya, Alexandra Dostoevskaya, Mikhail Dostoevsky, Andrei Dostoevsky sorry if any of them are misspelled.

Sorry, I forgot how every character acts :')

I probably should rewatch bsd so I'll remember the characteristics and mannerisms of the characters, but for some FUCKING REASON MY BRAIN HATES ME and it won't let me watch the show in peace. Also I'm rewatching so many shows at once without watching any of them and it's just easier not to watch it yk.

Have a wonderful day/night and eat some fruit for vitamins and other nutrients.

-love, Az the wizard frog :)

[franki-lew-yo]

There is a right and wrong way to handle the blow after blow of injustices happening in the world to innocent people. You are only one person and I say this as someone who's having a LOT of sudden changes happen within my own life that's stressing me out/pulling me a million different ways-- you have to collect yourself before you can help anyone. But, that doesn't mean you have to say 'I can't do anything', not care, or worse try and blow off every post about the crisis as being bots or scammers.

Making this post on account of Natalie Wynn, a youtube critic I otherwise like most of time saying this very badly-worded thing. I hope she at least takes back this tweet and apologizes for ever making it cuz cuz yeesh. Natalie wtf??

As I've mentioned in earlier posts, I'm really mad at the assumptions that every other Palestine/Sudan donation MUST BE an inherent scam. There are actually a lot of explanations for why a campaign looks the way it does, why they talk like bots with lots of copy+paste, why people make a few accounts for the same campaign, ect. This does not exclude the possibility that yes, scammers+bots do exist and you should be wary. The reason people are getting 'tired' with donation bloggers asking for help is because they genuinely don't have time in their own life to stop and go through the campaign pages to see for themselves, let alone donate. Add to that the fact that, as people fleeing an active genocide, people are going to post photos of their condition or lives and those are going to get graphic without proper warning in a lot of links, it's s t r e s s f u l. No, definitely not as stressful as living in fear of being murdered by IDF soldiors or bombs every day, but stressful. In our empathy, we don't want that to happen and we want to save innocent people from this horrible reality, not ignore it/justify it/take part in it. But, if we want to do this right, we do have to put aside time we don't always have ourselves. We can make time if we try for it.

I don't type out that last sentence to shame you all into trying 'or else you're not a good person'. I type that out because I genuinely, earnestly believe in people like me. There is so much ugliness and awfulness in this world, but people can come together if they try to fund anything.

What I've learned from therapy is that self-care doesn't have to be at odds with your social justice. In fact, if you find they constantly are at odds; you use other people's trauma and hardships to emotionally/verbally hate yourself and those around you; you insist you can't contribute to a cause unless it directly benefits you personally, that's a serious thing you need to talk to your therapist about.

The activism for Gaza has had another shift in awareness in the last two months. Now, sadly no; charities alone can't save anyone. There's no sign of a ceasefire. Now is the time for donations and campaigns to evacuate. You have to navigate it well so you know what you're doing with the money and time that could literally save lives.

My process for taking in information is collecting as many fundraisers+campaign links in one place, then setting aside a time of day where I can go through them, sort them out, read up on their situation and then make my decision to donate or not. If I can't donate because, like now, I'm low on funds and in debt (thanks murica), I share the campaign and try my hardest to push it in the direction of people who also want to help and who are looking for campaigns to donate to. I'm all about reblogging a pinned post with resources/vetted status and try to update the rest of the world reading with me how a campaign is doing by screencapping the gofundme pages.

We can be better. We are better.

Keep up the boycotting. Donate and spread the word of fundraisers. Update others like you when you yourself can't donate. There is always someone.

[yawn-junn]

helloo are requests open? can i request boyfriend a-z with james from trainee a? thanks so much !!!

♡James A - Z♡

♡Special thanks too: anon, trainee a, James

♡Note: sorry this took so long I had a skin condition going on it's cleared up now and it no longer hurts to hold my phone

♡Taglist: @leoonoa - @mxlly143 - @wonootnoot

♡cw: kissing : affection : mentions of pda : mentions of jealousy :

4-5-24

A - affection (how affectionate are they)

Extremely, he's always hanging off you, or pulling on your arm for attention.

B - boyfriend points (cute things they do)

Sometimes when he's bored, he'll randomly call out for you but say nothing, or he'll (if he's laying on the floor) crawl over to you and "accidentally" trip you then trap you into cuddling with him.

C - comfort (how comforting are they)

He's not very good with his words when it comes to comforting so he tends to stick with affection and gently rub you're arm or back while letting you get out what's got you upset.

D - dreams (there future with you)

He imagined like 9 kids a giant house with 8 dogs and 4 cats with a few fish.

E - everlasting (how long will y'all last)

As long as you want him, he'll stay with you till you get tired of him and move on.

F - friendship (how long were you two friends)

For a few months before he confessed, he only talked with you because he's seen you around and you became a small(read: huge) crush.

G - games (couple games they play with you)

He's all for games, I mean if he could he'd play games 24 hours with you, but his favorite is even tho it's childish is tag he loves chasing you around.

H - hugs (how often do they crave hugs)

365 24/7 none stop he loves hugs whenever he can attach to you he will.

I - I love yous (who was the first person to say I love you)

He was, spontaneously he just yelled it out one day, like actually yelled, the two of you were watching TV when suddenly you heard a gasp from next to you a very loud "I love you!" Following right after.

J - jealousy (how jealous are they?)

He can get self conscious, so instead of getting mad jealous he'll get sulky and make sad little comments asking why you even like him.

K - kisses (kinds of kisses they give)

Cheek kisses and lip kisses are his favorite when he can't reach either he'll put his eye close to you and blink leaving butterfly kisses.

L - lazy days (lazy days with them)

Lazy days are rare, he's super hyper so to get him chill it happens rarely, but when they do happen he likes to cuddle and play a random game on his phone while you're head rests on his chest.

M - mornings (mornings with them)

You wake up way before him, so you'd get all you're stuff done and get ready letting him sleep more before you gently shake him awake.

N - nicknames (nicknames for one another)

He calls you the weirdest nicknames he can think of you're not "babe, baby, honey" or anything sweet you're "stink"

O - opening up (how fast did they open up to you)

A few months after being friends before you started dating when he opened up to you that's when he confessed.

P - PDA (public display of affection)

The most he'll do is hand holding but only the pinkies.

Q - quality time (how they spend time with you)

Whenever he gets free time he's by you're side so you often play games or do what he likes.

R - romance (how romantic are they)

3/10 on the romantic scale he can be if it's an important event but he's nowhere near romantic on a normal day.

S - support (how supportive are they)

You're #1 Fan he hypes you up like no other.

T - thrill (how thrilled are they about you)

When he was in trainee a they often complained since he never shut up about you, he'd brag even if you just flipped you're hair over you're shoulder.

U - understanding (how understanding are they)

He's went through a lot as a trainee that really opened his eyes moving from one place to another and forcing himself to learn a whole new language changed his view on a lot of stuff.

V - value (how much they value you)

He values you like he values life, to him you're everything and need to cherished.

W - wild card (random head cannon)

He loves teaching you his native tongue whenever you get something right he'll give you a round of applause.

X - xylophone (your couple song)

Promise by jimin

Y - you (what they think of you)

He thinks you're an angel he thinks so highly of you.

Z - zzz (naps with them)

Naps with him consist of cuddling (him on you to keep you warm) his hand gently under you're head to act as a pillow and the other hand is interlocked with yours.

[recurring-polynya]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

I spent a really long time thinking about this because I feel like I'm always shilling the same handful of fics from 2019. So maybe this list isn't my all-time favorites, but it's five fics that I am feeling fondly towards at the moment, and would put forward if people are looking for samples of my work to read. I think I came up with a pretty good sampling of old and new, and also length and genre. They're basically all Renruki tho. I write about other characters sometimes, but the only fics I actually care about are the ones about Renruki.

(recs below the cut, because it got long)

go places. [2023. 28k words. Rated T.] Young Rukia and Renji leave Inuzuri and spend three weeks at the South Rukongai District 70 Consolidated Shinigami Recruitment Station, waiting to find out if their applications have been accepted, and learning what it means to be a shinigami.

Boy, this was such an agonizing fic to write. I simply couldn't make it come together. In the time since I've finished it, I've grown more and more affectionate toward it. I think the prose is better than my usual, it hits a lot of the notes I always want my fanfic to hit, and I just really really love dreadful teen Rukia and Renji. It's definite a weird fic, and it's melancholy and goes down a hundred bizarre world-building tangents and R U K I A, but I'm just inordinately proud of it.

Damage History. [2024. 109k words. Rated T. Some violence, medical stuff.] Long ago in Inuzuri, Abarai Renji broke his arm. It healed. At least the bones did. His kidou ducts have never been the same. Now that Renji's finally having the surgery to get them corrected, Rukia is determined to make sure he gets the love and care he deserves during his recovery-- whether he wants it or not.

I go around and around about which chapter of my long slow-burn series, The Heart is a Muscle, is my favorite. I think that in the long run, this one isn't going to be it, but it is the most recent one I wrote, and I actually just re-read it, and I think it's pretty good, actually. It brings together a lot of the threads I've been weaving into all the stories that came before it, and I think the resulting story is both well-crafted and has a lot of heart to it.

Rukia's Birthday. [2023. 2.5k. Rated T.] Short-n-sweet lil contrast story between the only birthday Rukia celebrated at the Academy, and one in more recent times.

Ha ha, I wish this one had a better title, but that was the name of the prompt for one of the days of Renruki Week. Even though it's just a shorty, it really hits all the notes I want in a romantic Renruki story. (It's not like...romantic romantic, but it's romantic to me). Anyway, I very frequently find myself re-reading this one. Very, very rarely I manage to write a thing that is exactly what I want to read, and this is it.

Portions for Foxes. [2019. 28k. Rated E. Graphic sex, graphic violence, major character death. There's an M version with less sex, but it still has the rest] After his captain's death at the hands of As Nodt, Renji just wants to sink into the shattered wreckage that used to be his life. But Byakuya has left him with a few things to take care of, and Renji is nothing, if not loyal.

lol I said I didn't want to pull out the same 5 fics I always rec, and here it is. I can't help it if it's a banger! Anyway, the thing I like about Foxes is that it's got an actually intriguing premise, unlike the other 98% of what I write, which is like "why is the food bad in Soul Society?" or "what if paperwork," and then I actually think I did a good job with it. I keep hoping that with the Blood War getting animated, that people will rediscover this fic, which is the real reason I put it on the list. I think it's safe to say that this is one of my fics that I have re-read the most times.

Squad 10 Day. [2022. 4k. Rated T.] It's October 10, Squad 10 Day, but Hitsugaya and Matsumoto are in the World of the Living, so they do the obvious: declare the rest of the Advance Team (and Chad) members of Squad 10 and eat soup about it. (It's actually titled "Time to Celebrate" but in my heart, it's just "Squad 10 Day")

The Advance Team arc is, in my opinion, the best time to write Bleach fanfic, and I think this is my best Advance Team fanfic. If you don't want to read 4k of Chad thinking about shinigami and how much he loves his precious friends, I don't know what to tell you. This is the least Renruki fanfic on this list, but that insane B-cipher letter Rukia sends Renji is something that it so important to me and I think of it often.

Bonus!! I allowed myself (1) smut, so here it is:

Rukia and Renji Flagrantly Misuse Valuable Gotei-13 Field Equipment (for Science!) [2020. 8.6k. Rated E for VERY graphic sex.] Squad 12 has developed a new hot-swappable gigai, an amazing innovation that could save lives, reduce mission costs, and provide new scientific insights into the nature of the soul. Rukia and Renji, asked to test out the prototypes, immediately use them for 🐒🐍🕶️🍑🍆❄️🐰 purposes.

This was the first smut I ever wrote (not counting Portions for Foxes, which was at least plot-related sex) and I have not improved with practice. The reason this fanfic is important to me is because anytime someone makes a raunchy joke about the omake to Episode 335, I want someone else to say "hey, someone wrote a smut of that" and now that is possible, because of me. If I have but one contribution to the fandom, I hope it's that.

Thank you for the tag on this, I think this was good for my ego. I get very self-conscious whenever I am supposed to tag people, but if anyone reading this got even the slightest urge to toot their own horn, please consider yourself tagged (and I would love to read it, I love to read people talk about their own work)

[strangerstilinski]

SELENOPHILES OF BEACON HILLS | Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinksi/Original Female Character

chapter three - - chapter four - - chapter five

fic summary; after an already traumatic evening involving the unfortunate discovery of a gruesome scene, amber is convinced to hike through the woods with her two best friends in search of the other half of a dead body. but it's not as if she could ever say no.. not when stiles looked at her like that.

chapter word count; 9,804

chapter notes; scott has a disturbingly realistic nightmare that he can't seem to get out of his head. lydia gives her best shot at playing matchmaker. something about big bad derek just doesn't seem to add up and amber sets off to figure him out for herself.

masterlist

c h a p t e r   f o u r

pack mentality

Sandwiched between Stiles and Scott, Amber walked up the concrete path to the school building, pulling her backpack straps tighter around her shoulders as she listened to Scott recount the vivid dream he'd had the night before.

"I'm serious, you guys. It was an actual nightmare-" He explained, "In the dream I couldn't control my shift and we were locked inside a school bus.. Allison was trying to get away but.. There was so much blood.." Scott shook his head as if trying to eject the memory from his brain and Amber lifted a hand to give him a sympathetic pat on the back.

Stiles wrenched open the large metal doors to the building when the trio reached them, "So you killed her?"

"I don't know, I just woke up," Scott said as he and Amber entered the school, stepping past where Stiles was holding the door open for them, "And I was sweating like crazy.. And I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before-"

"Really?" Stiles questioned with a grin, a look of satisfaction taking over his face at the innuendo, "I have. Usually ends a little differently.." He wrapped an arm around Amber's shoulders as they walked down the hallway and pulled her into his side with a laugh, "What about you, Am? You ever had one of these dreams? With the heavy breathing and the sweating and the-"

She turned slightly into Stiles' side beneath his arm, pressing her fingertips against his lips to stop the rambling. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she her mind drifted to the dream she'd had the week before that has featured Stiles himself, from which she'd woken up breathing heavily and coated in a sheen of sweat. She looked into his wide eyes as they continued down the hallway with slow steps and she remembered the moment in her dream just before she'd gasped herself awake, the moment that Stiles' warm brown eyes had locked with hers just before she'd come.

After what was probably a moment too long, she removed her hand from his mouth, "Yes, Stiles. I've had a sex dream before. You're hilarious."

"Wh- Really?" He sputtered, "About who?"

She took a pointed step to the side to put some space between Stiles and herself and his arm fell from her shoulders to hang limply at his side again as they picked their pace back up. She was saved from having to dodge the question herself when Scott interjected.

"A, I meant I've never had a dream that felt that real. And B, never give me that much detail about either of you in bed again."

Stiles sighed a long-suffering sigh at the change in topic but surrendered, "Noted. Let me just take a guess here-"

"No," Scott interrupted, "I know you both probably think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow, like I'm gonna lose it and rip her throat out."

"Of course not-" Stiles began, cut off when Amber spoke over him.

"Noo.." She drew out the word with sarcasm.

Stiles gave in first, "Yeah, that's totally it." At Scott's dejected sigh, he continued, "Hey, listen, it's gonna be fine, alright?"

Amber nodded, patting Scott on the shoulder, "I think you're doing pretty well, all things considered-"

"She's right. I mean, personally, I think you're doing pretty frickin' amazingly, you know? It's not like there's a Lycanthropy For Beginners class you can take." Stiles joked.

"Yeah, not a class, but maybe a teacher..” Scott hinted, gauging for his friend's reactions.

"I think it's probably the best idea you've had since-" Amber started.

Stiles looked between them with wide eyes, "Who, Derek?" He reached around to hit Scott in the back of the head and used his other to smack Amber in her shoulder, "You both forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?" Stiles exclaimed, his voice loud as they moved through the crowded hallway.

Scott raised his own voice in response, "Yeah! I know but-"

"I will not be settled with equal blame in that. I still think we should've at least talked to the guy before-" Amber's voice was drowned out as Scott continued to speak.

"-Chasing Allison, dragging her to the back of the bus, it all felt so real."

"How real?" Stiles asked, opening a set of side-doors that led out to the courtyard and leading Amber through as Scott followed them a step behind.

"Like it actually happened," Scott said as they stepped out to the paved area that held outdoor tables and a smaller parking lot. When his two friends came to an abrupt stop, Scott walked straight into Amber from behind and stumbled. He caught himself with a hand on her shoulder before stepping up to stand beside her. His friends' eyes were trained ahead of them, mouths open in shock and Scott looked to what had caught their attention.

There was blood everywhere.

A school bus had its rear emergency door hanging loosely from the hinges, dozens of bloody streaks and handprints marked up the yellow paint. There were uniformed deputies rushing around the taped-off crime scene, taking photographs and swabbing surfaces for evidence.

"I-I think maybe it did." Amber said quietly as her hands began to shake.

The three tumbled back into the school building in a rush to check for any sign of Allison. Scott looked panicked and Amber wrapped a hand around his bicep as she raced to keep up with the boys who were both taller than her, her mind quickly spiraling in fear.

"She's probably fine!" Stiles assured them, not quite managing to keep the nerves out of his own voice.

Scott reached into his pocket to pull out his cell phone, desperately checking it for new messages before squeezing it tightly in his hand and putting it back. His voice was strained as he turned to look at his friends, "She's not answering my texts, you guys-"

Amber took a deep breath, unable to speak. She squeezed Scott's arm in her hand and looked to Stiles on her other side with wide eyes.

"It could just be a coincidence, alright?" Stiles said as they continued to scour the hallway for any sign of Allison, "A seriously amazing coincidence."

"What deity did we piss off to earn this much chaos in only two weeks, anyway?" Amber breathed. Her hands were still shaking, but the one gripping onto Scott's bicep felt slightly more controlled.

"Just- Help me find her. Okay?" Scott pleaded with them, his feet still moving quickly as he raced down the hall.

They'd covered the entire east wing of the school without a glimpse of the girl and when they reached an unoccupied row of lockers, Scott tugged himself out of Amber's grip to brace himself against them. He dropped his forehead to one of the cool metal doors and his hands came up on either side of him. He was breathing heavily, in a scarily similar way to when he was on the lacrosse field, just before he had lost control and tried to kill them in the locker room.

"Scott?" Amber asked softly. She had begun to take a step closer when Stiles pulled her back gently with a hand on her shoulder.

She and Stiles watched as Scott breathed harshly for a few moments before Scott suddenly stood upright, tightening his right hand into a fist and punching the door of the locker. The force behind it put a deep, hand-sized dent in the metal, bending it at an angle that had the lock disengaging and sent the locker door swinging open slightly, hanging sadly from its hinges.

Scott took another deep breath, backing away from the destruction while he and Amber both looked around at their peers, checking if anyone had seen or heard his episode, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

When Scott rushed down the hallway, Stiles used the hand still gripping Amber's shoulder to guide her in the other direction, "He needs a minute to calm down, Am."

"Yeah, and we need to help him-" She started, trying to step away but his grip was firm as he pulled her in the opposite direction.

"You and I aren't gonna be much help if we end up in a situation like last week and he manages to actually kill us this time," Stiles argued, "We'll keep looking- Give him a while to calm down, and then we'll regroup, okay?"

"I- Yeah," She deflated, "No, you're right."

Satisfied that she wasn't about to rush off to follow after Scott, Stiles released her and gave her back full autonomy of her body as they approached her locker. After she'd packed away her things and collected her books for English, the two made their way to Stiles' locker so that he could do the same. All the while they kept their eyes peeled for the Argent girl, but didn't manage to find any sign of her in the hallways.

When Amber slid into her desk in front of Stiles, she sighed at the two empty seats in the row to the right of them. She turned around in her seat to face Stiles and kept her shaky voice low in an attempt at privacy, "What if it was real and Allison is-"

"-Walking in the room with Scott right now," Stiles finished her sentence, nodding toward the front of the classroom.

Amber spun forward again so quickly she only narrowly avoided sweeping all of her books onto the floor, but Stiles was right. Allison was walking into the room with her usual soft smile on her face, certainly not looking like she had been mauled by a werewolf the night before, and Scott trailed just a couple of steps behind her.

When Scott slid into his seat, Amber leaned slightly over the arm of her desk to lessen some of the space between them, shooting him a glare, "Would a text have killed you?" She hissed, "I'm pretty sure I was only a few minutes away from an aneurysm from stress."

"Sorry." Scott shrugged, not looking entirely sorry, as he smiled gratefully at the back of Allison's head.

"Unbelievable." Amber leaned back into her seat muttering. Despite her words, she felt a wave of relief rush over her with the knowledge that Allison was okay. As her back came to rest in her seat fully for the start of class, she felt Stiles reach across his desk to squeeze her shoulder softly. She tilted her head to the side and pressed her cheek to the back of his warm hand for a moment before sitting up a little in her seat.

Everything was fine.

By the time third period came around, the sick feeling in Amber's gut had returned. Even though Allison was safe, there was still a crime scene in the back parking lot along with a bloodsoaked school bus, Scott had still dreamt that he'd been there the night before, and someone or something had lost a concerning amount of blood.

Scott turned around to face where his friends sat at the sideways tables behind him, "Maybe it was my blood on the door," He suggested quietly.

Amber shrugged in response while she continued to copy down the equation that Mr. Harris was writing up on the chalkboard.

"Could have been animal blood," Stiles interjected, fiddling with the pencil in his hand, teeter-tottering it back and forth rapidly between his middle and forefinger, "Y'know, maybe you caught a rabbit or something."

Scott frowned in confusion, "And did what?"

"Ate it." Stiles said simply.

Amber snorted quietly, glancing up to the front of the room to ensure their teacher hadn't heard it. Mr. Harris was still facing the blackboard, so she felt safe enough to whisper back to her friends, "Gross, Scott. You ate a rabbit?" She questioned gleefully.

"What and I ate it raw?" Scott asked.

"No, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven." Stiles glared, annoyed. Amber laughed quietly again as he continued, "I don't know, you're the one who can't remember anything."

"Mr. Stilinski," Harris' voice rang out with its usual amount of irritation, "If that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while." Amber looked back at her notes, face flushing in mortification, and she heard Stiles huff a nervous laugh, "I think you, Mr. McCall and Miss Callisto would benefit from a little distance, yes?"

"No-" Stiles protested immediately.

Mr. Harris glared from behind his small, black framed glasses and pointed to an empty seat at the far end of the classroom, and another at a table in the front. Stiles and Scott both huffed, but collected their things none the less and moved to their respective new seats. Amber remained in her seat, avoiding the amused gaze of the classmate she shared her table with.

"Hey! I think they found something!" The girl sitting beside Scott suddenly yelled, rushing to the window overlooking the back parking lot.

Every student in the classroom followed suit and ran to the wall of windows. Amber pushed through to the front of the room and hovered just behind Scott and Stiles, peeking over their shoulders to see the person being carted toward an ambulance on a gurney.

"That's not a rabbit," Scott stated quietly.

The old man on the gurney suddenly sat upright and attempted to pull away from the paramedics. He screamed and all the students hovering by the windows flinched back in surprise. The backward movement of the boys in front of her had her tripping over her own feet and Amber's hands went to Stiles' waist to steady herself.

Scott backed away from the scene slowly with a horrified look on his face. Amber and Stiles immediately followed after him and went to their friend's side.

"Guys, what-" Amber swallowed past a lump in her throat, unable to finish her question. She looked to Stiles with wide eyes, hoping he might have something to say to make the situation seem less dire.

"This is good!" Stiles said, "This is good." He repeated, looking back and forth between his friend and the windows, "He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that." Stiles let out a long breath.

"You guys.. I did that." Scott whispered.

"Hey, listen. We don't know for sure that you did anything." Amber assured Scott again. She settled her lunch tray over her forearm and reached out to rub Scott's arm encouragingly as they made their way to an empty table.

"Dreams aren't memories." Stiles agreed in a whisper.

"Then it wasn't a dream." Scott countered, setting his tray down on a table, "Something happened last night and I can't remember what."

Scott grabbed a seat, throwing his sweatshirt into the empty chair beside him. Stiles pulled out his own seat across the table and Amber settled herself into the one to the right of Stiles.

"What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?" Stiles asked in defeat.

"Well to start, he was fine on the full moon-" Amber started.

"Yeah," Scott agreed, "He was in total control on a full moon while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy."

"You don't know that." Stiles reiterated to their friend.

"I don't not know it!" Scott said, leaning forward into his lunch tray as he spoke. "I can't go out with Allison. I have to cancel-"

"No." Stiles interjected, "You're not canceling, okay?"

Amber frowned, unsure when Stiles had taken this stance on Scott's love-life, but wanting to reassure him all the same.

"The next full moon isn't for another two weeks," Amber stated, "So, you'll be fine tomorrow, and then after you've gone on your amazingly perfect date, we'll work on your control. By the time the full moon comes around, you'll be totally fine."

"Yeah. You can't just cancel your entire life. We'll figure it out." Stiles agreed.

"Figure what out?" Lydia's voice cut in. The girl dropped her lunch tray down beside Scott's and fell gracefully into the seat across from Amber.

Stiles huffed out a surprised breath, looking at Amber as if she might know why the strawberry blonde was joining their table at lunch.

"Uh-" Scott said dumbly.

"Just homework." Amber smiled, reaching to grab a chicken tender from Stiles' plate and beginning to rip it into tiny pieces over her salad.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed loudly before turning to whisper in Amber's ear, "Why is she sitting with us?"

Amber shrugged in response just as the rest of the empty seats at their table were suddenly being filled. A guy Amber didn't know very well from the lacrosse team sat at the head of the table between Lydia and herself. Danny Mahealani settled into the seat on the other side of Stiles. Allison went to the seat beside Scott, pausing while he collected his sweatshirt from the table so that she could set her tray down.

"Thanks," Allison said to him with a smile.

"Get up." Jackson's voice cut in harshly, glaring at the boy sitting beside Amber.

The boy floundered for a moment, "How come you never ask Danny to get up?" He questioned, pointing to where Danny was sitting a few seats away.

"Because," Danny interjected, pointedly looking at the way the boy's eyes were glued to Lydia's chest, "I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot."

The boy pulled his eyes away from the redhead in embarrassment and huffed, quickly grabbing his tray and rushing off so that Jackson could take his vacant seat.

"So, I hear they're saying it's some kind of animal attack. Probably a cougar." Danny said, unknowingly steering the topic of conversation back where it had been only moments before.

"I heard mountain lion." Jackson disagreed.

"Same thing," Amber said through a large mouthful of salad at the same time Lydia said, "A cougar is a mountain lion."

Jackson's eyes narrowed at his girlfriend and Lydia continued, "Isn't it?" Lydia asked dumbly, looking up at Amber across the table in faux-confusion.

"Who cares," Jackson rolled his eyes, "The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."

Amber's eyes snapped back to Jackson and she had to fight the urge to stab her fork into his hand instead of the salad on her plate.

She felt Stiles' hand go to her shoulder as he leaned over the table with a video playing on his phone, "Actually, I just found out who it is. Check it out." Stiles said, positioning his phone so that most of the table could see the newsreel he was playing.

"The Sheriff's Department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack. Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition." The reporter recounted over a video clip that had been taken of the crime scene, followed by a photograph of the victim smiling that they'd managed to pull from somewhere.

"I know this guy." Scott said, looking up at his two best friends with wide eyes. Amber took a shaky breath at the admission, glancing over at Stiles to see he looked just as dejected. "When I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad.. He was the driver."

There was a moment of silence wherein the three friends sat with matching looks of devastation.

"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" Lydia cut in, "Like- Oh, what are we doing tomorrow night?" She asked excitedly, eyes flicking to Amber before they settled on Allison at the other end of the group, "You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?"

There was an awkward moment where Amber watched Allison choke down the bite of food she had in her mouth, eyes bouncing between Lydia and Scott, "Um," She struggled, "We were still thinking of what we were gonna do."

Amber and Stiles made brief eye contact, unsure how Scott and Allison could get out of sudden the turn of events.

"Well," Lydia said, "I am not sitting at home again watching lacrosse videos, so if the six of us are hanging out, we're doing something fun."

Allison was nervously sipping from her water bottle when Scott turned to face her, "Hanging out? Like, the six of us?" He asked slowly.

Stiles reached a hand up to cover his own mouth to keep from groaning in frustration. Amber grabbed his hand and pulled it down to settle on the top of the table, squeezing it for a moment.

"Do you wanna hang out, like, us and them?" Scott asked Allison quietly.

"Yeah," Allison said after a second, "I guess. Sounds fun."

"You know what else sounds fun? Stabbing myself in the face with this fork." Jackson said, holding up a metal fork identical to the one Amber had debated stabbing him with just a few minutes earlier.

"Well I'm, uh, busy.." Stiles said, hoping to get things back on track for Scott's date.

While Stiles had caught the grateful look Scott shot him, he missed the shattered expression that flooded the face of the girl sitting beside him. Amber let out a pained breath at Stiles' immediate dismissal of being paired up with her on something as simple as a group date.

"-With my dad. Gotta.. Do a thing." He finished lamely.

"Fine." Lydia dismissed, "Don't worry, hon, I happen to have a backup date all lined up for you." The redhead grinned slyly at Amber, like this was going more according to her plan than she could've hoped.

"A date?" Stiles squeaked at the same time Amber furrowed her eyebrows and said, "A backup date?"

"Well if he's too busy," Lydia started, shooting a small glare at Stiles, "We can't leave you fifth wheeling, can we?" She explained, "What, do you have plans with his dad, too?" She asked sarcastically, raising her eyebrows at Amber.

"I- No, I. I guess I don't." She confirmed, avoiding eye contact and moving the lettuce around on her plate.

"Good," Lydia smiled before turning her attention to her boyfriend, "How about bowling? You love to bowl."

Jackson scoffed, "Yeah, with actual competition."

"How do you know we're not actual competition?" Allison asked, turning to Scott with a smile, "You can bowl, right?"

Scott paused, eyes wide, "Sort of."

Amber grimaced, glancing up at Stiles to find him still looking at her with a frown, a french fry dangling from between his lips as if he'd had some sort of life changing realization mid-bite.

What? She mouthed to him, grabbing the exposed half of the fry and pulling it from his mouth. Stiles simply shook his head like he was clearing his thoughts and returned his attention to the rest of the table as he chewed the food still in his mouth.

"Is it sort of, or yes?" Jackson was prodding Scott.

"Yes." Scott said defiantly, sitting up a little straighter in his seat, "In fact, I'm a great bowler."

Amber sighed in all sorts of disappointment.

Stiles and Scott made their way from their final class of the day in a rush to leave school, moving faster that normal with the knowledge that they didn't have lacrosse practice that afternoon. They entered the stairwell and moved quickly until they reached the bottom.

"You're terrible at bowling!" Stiles finally said loudly, thinking back on the fiasco in the lunchroom.

"I know!" Scott whined, "I'm such an idiot!"

"God, It was like watching a car wreck. I mean, first it turns into this whole group date thing. And then out of nowhere comes that phrase-"

"'Hang out.'" Scott agreed.

"You don't hang out with hot girls, okay? It's like death. Once it's hanging out you might as well be her gay best friend. Believe me. It'll be like me and Amber when we're 'hanging out'." Stiles ranted as they turned into the lower hallway.

"How is this happening?" Scott asked, blind to the way his friend was beginning to spiral, "I either killed a guy or I didn't."

"God! I could've had a date with Amber and I freaking blew it." Stiles complained, "D'you think she would've thought it was a real date? Who do you think she's going on the date with now?" Stiles asked, his mind racing.

"I ask Allison on a date, and now we're hanging out." Scott said to himself, ignoring Stiles.

"Scott, who do you think Amber's going on the date with now?"

"I make first line, and the team captain wants to destroy me. And now-" Scott bemoaned before he checked the time on his phone with a groan, "Now I'm gonna be late for work." He said, running off again and leaving Stiles standing in the middle of the hall.

"Wait, Scott!" Stiles called after his friend's retreating form, "You didn't- Who's Amber going on the date with now! You didn't-" He paused, continuing quietly to himself, "Answer my question."

"Ben Davis." A voice came a few inches from Stiles' ear.

Stiles jumped, flailing his arms and tripping forward a few steps. He nearly smacked the girl beside him as he caught his footing and he heard Amber's laughter as he righted himself.

"Ben Davis?" Stiles repeated with a grimace.

Stiles didn't necessarily like the thought of Amber going on a date with one of the many assholes that Lydia could have easily lined up from the lacrosse team. But, somehow, Amber going on a date with Ben Davis was worse.

Ben was all tall lean muscle and clear skin paired with a sharp jawline and thick shiny hair. In addition to all that, though, was what Stiles was beginning to think was the thing he hated the most about Ben — he was nice. The guy was a part of the Big Brother Big Sister Program at the middle school. He was always willing to help the Freshmen when they were having trouble with the drills while all the other upperclassmen just watched them flail in satisfaction. He volunteered at an honest to God soup kitchen around the holidays.

Stiles didn't want Amber to go on a date with some douchebag who he knew would be telling dirty jokes and feeling her up all night, but at least that would be a one and done situation. He knew Amber would kick the ass of a guy like that before she ever agreed to a second date.

But a guy like Ben — That was a guy she'd go on a second, third, even tenth date with. Ben was a guy Amber would probably date until they graduated high school and then the two of them would get married and have two annoyingly beautiful children.

Stiles felt like he was going to be sick.

One Hour Earlier

As soon as the bell rang for the fifteen minute break before last period, Amber rushed to the bathroom. She felt Lydia's eyes on her as she passed by but refused to slow, speeding past with a tight feeling in her chest.

She hadn't been able to pay attention to anything they'd covered in class after lunch. She had mindlessly copied down notes from the board and into her notebook, but she wouldn't have been able to recall a word of it if anyone asked. Her mind was stuck on the confirmation she'd received that Stiles truly couldn't see her as anything more than his friend.

She'd told herself hundreds of times that something like this would happen, that Stiles didn't want her in that way. But to have it laid out in front of her with all of their friends present had been more mortifying than she could have ever imagined.

When the bathroom door opened, Amber was sitting with her knees pulled into her chest, curled up on the wide window sill that ran along the frosted glass panes. She heard the soft clicking of Lydia's heeled boots along the tiled floor, but Amber was busy trying to focus her breathing, squeezing her legs tight.

"Oh, sweetie," Lydia said softly, sitting down on the edge of the sill beside her. Lydia's hand came up to run through her friend's long hair softly, pulling Amber close. "You're upset about buzzcut?"

"Stiles." Amber said quietly, voice sounding hoarse even though she hadn't cried.

"Right, well, I know you're hurt but.. If he doesn't want to go on a date with you, he's an idiot." The strawberry blonde stated.

"Feel kinda like I'm the idiot." Amber mumbled, leaning back and looking up into the green eyes of her friend.

"You're not." Lydia said sternly, "But d'you know what will make you feel better?"

"If you say going bowling with-"

"Going out for a fun night with your friends and a guy, hand picked by me. Who, by the way, is very hot and very perfect for you." Lydia smiled softly.

"Perfect for me?" Amber asked distrustfully, loosening her grip around her legs and leaning back against the wall.

"Yes," Lydia insisted, "Please, I know your type. He's sweet, but he's also so family oriented it's boring, and he's a total nerd." Amber raised her eyebrows at the list of supposed perks, "Not to mention he's insanely hot."

Amber sighed, giving in, "Who are we even talking about?"

"Ben Davis." When Lydia grinned, there was something both beautiful and scary about it.

Amber knew who Ben was. He was in their class and had tried out for lacrosse with Scott and Stiles as Freshmen the year before. She didn't know him well, but she knew him well enough that she thought he seemed like a nice guy. He was tall for a Sophomore, and he had gorgeous dark hair that somehow always looked styled but effortless. Lydia wasn't lying, he was insanely attractive.

"I just- I don't know how much fun a date sounds to me right now." Amber admitted self-consciously, picking at a loose thread on her jeans.

"Just come on the date," Lydia said, combing her fingers through Amber's hair one final time, "Come. Try to have fun- And then if you want to mope and be depressed about your friend for a week, I say go for it."

Amber took a deep breath, "You really, honestly think I might like him?" She asked, sighing at Lydia's answering nod, "I don't think I'm up for it tomorrow, but a date in general.. I just.. I'll think about it, okay?"

"Deal," Lydia held out a pinky, waiting until Amber joined her own before letting her hand drop. "But even if you don't go tomorrow night, I am getting you on a date with this guy," She wrapped Amber up in another tight hug, "I swear you'd like him."

Amber nodded reluctantly. Despite the ever present pang of heartbreak she was feeling for Stiles, she felt significantly lighter than she had before her talk with Lydia.

Amber was on her way to her locker at the end of the day when she heard Stiles' voice ring out from down the hallway.

"Scott, wait!" She heard Stiles yelling as she rounded a corner, steadily closing the distance between her and her friends.

Finally, she spotted the back of Stiles' head. He was standing in the center of the front hall, shouting at Scott's back as the tanned boy walked in the other direction through the crowd of students in a rush.

"You didn't- Who's Amber going on the date with now! You didn't-" Stiles called out as Amber reached his back. She leaned closer to Stiles' shoulder as he continued speaking quietly to himself, "Answer my question."

She leaned up onto her tiptoes, her face hovering close to Stiles' ear, "Ben Davis." She answered, her mouth only a few inches from his left ear.

He flinched in surprise at the sound of her voice so close. The boy stumbled and when his arms pinwheeled in an attempt to catch himself, he only narrowly avoided hitting Amber in the face with a flailing limb. She laughed loudly as he tripped forward half a step and righted himself before standing upright again.

He turned to face her and when she looked into his wide brown eyes, she fought to remind herself of the way he'd rejected her in the lunchroom.

"Ben Davis?" Stiles repeated, voice sounding unusually high. His nose crinkled up cutely in what looked like confusion.

Amber shrugged, suddenly feeling self conscious. She couldn't help but associate his surprise with him thinking the same thing she had when Lydia revealed her prospect — that Ben Davis was ridiculously out of her league.

"I mean.. I already told Lydia I'm probably not gonna go." She told him, nervously readjusting her books from where she had been cradling them to her side to hold them in front of herself protectively with both arms. She opted to leave out the fact that Stiles was her main reason for bailing on the group excursion.

"You're not going on the date?" He asked for clarification, his eyes raking over her face.

"Nah," She said, "I know Lydia won't be deterred that easily, in the long run but- Looks like it'll just be a double now with Scott and Allison, Jackson and Lydia."

"Good. Great- Cool!" Stiles said enthusiastically, his cheeks dimpling and putting an instantaneous smile on Amber's own face. His mood seemed to perk up and he threw a casual arm over her shoulders as he led them in the direction of her locker, "What're your plans for tonight? Scott's got work. But if you want, I thought we could order takeout and study for the Chemistry test-"

"Jason doesn't have to be back at the station until eight, actually," She interrupted, casting a brief glance at the mole-dotted cheek on the right side of Stiles' face, "We're making papoutsakia for dinner!" She said excitedly.

"Is that the eggplant one or the pasta bake?"

"Eggplant!" She grinned wide in excitement, "We're pulling out dad's recipe for the tomato sauce and everything. We can never get it to taste exactly like he made it but one of these days... We're gonna get it right."

"Right, yeah-" Stiles said, releasing her so she could open her locker and get her backpack, "That's cool, I'll just.. Drop you off at home then."

"We could order food and study tomorrow night though, if you want." She suggested hopefully.

"Yeah, I- Yeah sounds good. Great!" Stiles said quickly.

He moved to lean against the row of lockers and evidently misjudged the distance, by the way his shoulder slammed loudly against the metal. When she glanced at him while dropping a few books into her bag, he seemed unharmed. Instead, he wore a pleased little smile on his face, his cheeks dimpling in a way that made her heart clench.

"Cool." She smiled, zipping up her backpack and pulling it over her shoulders.

Amber was finishing up in the shower just after nine o'clock that evening when she heard her cell phone ringing loudly from the bathroom sink. She wrapped a towel around her body and nearly slipped with her wet feet against the tile as she jumped from the shower to get to the phone before it rang through to voicemail.

"Hello?" She said in a rush as she answered the call, hovering the phone a few inches away from her ear to avoid it coming into contact with her wet hair.

"Amber, you good? We're on our way to pick you up." Stiles' voice came through the tiny speaker.

"W-Why? I'm showering, what- Did something else happen?" She asked anxiously, leaning to shut off the running water and cursing quietly when she nearly slipped again in a puddle beside the bathtub.

"You're in the shower?" She heard Stiles' ask in a strained voice. Scott muttered something in the background and Stiles shushed him before continuing, "W- Right now?"

"No, not right now. I don't take my phone into the actual shower with me, Stiles. I was showering when you called." She said, turning him on speakerphone so that she could dry herself off quickly with the towel. "Now tell me what's going on."

"We're going to go to the school so Scott can sniff around or something. We'll explain more when we get there. Just get dressed and meet us outside, we'll be there in maybe two minutes."

"Fuck," She exclaimed at the time frame, rushing to finish drying her dripping hair before running to her bedroom to find clothes, "Okay, I'll be right down."

She ended the call, pulling on jeans and a tshirt from the mess on her bedroom floor before running out to the driveway. When she got there, the blue Jeep was already idling and she rushed to the passenger side, clumsily climbing over Scott to get to the center of the bench seat.

"Hi," She panted, elbowing Scott in the face as she readjusted to sit down, "Sorry-" Stiles was already backing out of the driveway and Amber shivered in the cool air of the vehicle as her hair dripped water down the collar of her shirt. "So what's happening? What're we sniffing?"

"I talked to Derek earlier," Scott told her, "He said that if I go back in the bus and use my werewolf senses, then I might remember what happened."

"I told you we should've talked to Derek sooner," She stated, "Was he furious about getting arrested?"

"Well, he didn't seem happy." Scott said, earning a snort of laughter from Stiles.

"Hey, this is serious, okay? We got the guy arrested. For his sister's murder." She glared at Stiles in the dark cab of the car.

"He still could've done it." He pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, "Stiles, seriously. We have more important things to focus on right now than your burning, passionate hatred for Derek Hale, alright?"

Stiles muttered something under his breath that she didn't catch, but remained otherwise silent until they pulled up to the gate that closed off the bus lot behind the school at night. As soon as the vehicle was shut off, both doors were flung open and Scott and Stiles dashed from the car, Amber climbed out a moment later and ran to catch up with them as they approached the gate.

Stiles put his hands and feet into the chainlink and immediately began to climb but Scott tugged him down to stand on the ground again.

"Hey, no, just me." Scott said, pulling Stiles' shoulder back and pushing him to stand beside Amber a few steps away, "You guys need to keep watch."

"How come we're always keeping watch?" Stiles asked defensively.

"Because he's the werewolf." Amber stated, putting her hand on Stiles' shoulder and pulling him back another step toward the car.

"Okay, why's it starting to feel like you're Batman and I'm Robin?" Stiles asked, his focus on Scott. "I don't want to be Robin all the time."

"Nobody's Batman or Robin any of the time." Scott said in exasperation.

"I- Not even some of the time?" Stiles asked sadly.

"Just," Scott turned his attention to Amber, "Make sure he stays here."

"Gotcha." She replied at the same time Stiles whined in annoyance. She pulled Stiles back toward the Jeep and together they climbed back in through the still-open doors. The car was quiet for a long minute before Amber spoke up, "Y'know, for the record, if there was a Batman of the group, it'd be you. Regardless of werewolf powers."

Stiles scoffed quietly, "How do you figure that?"

"You're kind of in charge, y'know? You're the one who's always got a plan, even if I don't always approve of it. And you're the one who keeps us together whenever shit hits the fan. Plus, well, you're always trying to keep me safe and pulling me out of danger-" She looked over from where her eyes had been focussed on the bus in the distance and finally turned her attention to the boy beside her. He wore a soft look or surprise on his face that made her feel oddly vulnerable, like somehow she'd revealed too much in the safety of the dark car. "Um.. Not to mention, you've got the super cool car."

He smiled and the light from the parking lot cast shadows over the dimples in his cheeks. Amber tore her eyes away to glance back toward the parked bus and jumped when she saw flashlight beams approaching from the other direction.

"Stiles!" She alerted her friend, pointing toward where Scott was still in the bus and the growing beams of light.

"Shit-" Stiles exclaimed quietly, honking the horn of the Jeep obnoxiously for several long moments to get Scott's attention.

They watched as Scott emerged from the bus and took off running in their direction. He jumped onto the hood of a parked car and ran along the roof before launching himself over the tall fence, tucking and rolling when he hit the ground on the other side.

"C'mon, c'mon," Stiles muttered, hitting the steering wheel anxiously as they watched their friend.

Scott ran toward the Jeep and Amber rushed to open the passenger side door for him.

"Go! Go!" Scott yelled as soon as he was in the vehicle.

Amber flinched at the shouting and she watched Stiles fumble with his keys for a moment before getting them in the ignition and throwing the vehicle into reverse. Amber couldn't help but grip onto Scott's arm when Stiles slammed on the gas to propel them backward before cutting the wheel as he switched gears. The Jeep turned to the side and hadn't yet come to a stop before Stiles slammed on the gas again and they took off in a forward direction and away from the school.

"Did it work? Did you remember?" Stiles yelled quickly as he drove.

"Yeah, I was there last night," Scott explained, gripping the window with one hand and allowing Amber to continue squeezing his other arm tightly, "And the blood- A lot of it was mine."

"What does that mean?" Amber questioned in confusion.

"So, you did attack him?" Stiles clarified.

"No." Scott answered, "I saw glowing eyes on the bus, but they weren't mine. It was Derek."

"Oh, come on-" Amber cried out, only to be ignored.

"What about the driver?" Stiles asked.

"I think I was actually trying to protect him."

"Wait," Stiles interrupted frantically, "Why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?"

"He wouldn't!" Amber interjected loudly.

"It's gotta be a pack thing-" Stiles thought aloud, ignoring the incredulous look Amber was shooting him, "Like an initiation. You do the kill together."

"Because ripping someone's throat out is a real bonding experience?" Scott asked warily.

"Yeah, but you didn't do it," Stiles pointed out, "Which means you're not a killer. And it also means that-"

"I can go out with Allison." Scott finished quickly, a look of relief taking over his face.

"I was going to say that you wont kill me and Amber." Stiles said, taking his eyes off the road to look past Amber and glare at Scott.

"Oh, yeah." Scott agreed quietly, "That too."

"You're both ridiculous." Amber stated, releasing Scott's arm to cross her own over her chest. There was so much she wanted to say but she remained quiet as she sorted through her own thoughts.

There was no way that Derek Hale was attacking people just because he wanted Scott in his pack.

Amber knew something else was going on, and she intended on figuring it out.

The next day, Amber insisted she needed to do something before their study date and requested that Stiles drop her off at home after lacrosse practice.

The girl watched out the front window as the Jeep reversed out of the driveway before she abandoned her backpack on the dining table and headed to the garage to pull out her rarely-used bicycle. Tugging the garage door closed once again, she climbed onto the uncomfortable seat and took off in the direction of the preserve.

Amber was passing by a gas station at the edge of town when she spotted a familiar black Camaro parked at one of the pumps and she quickly turned into the parking lot, coming to a stop at the back of the car.

Derek was swinging the driver's side door open and getting out just as she climbed off of her bike, letting it fall to the ground as she approached him.

"You have got to tell us what the hell is going on." Amber demanded.

"You and your little friends have no idea what you've gotten in the middle of." Derek stated darkly, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Uh, yeah, that's kind of the problem!" Amber said, gesturing wildly with her arms, "Scott and Stiles think you're this crazy murderous werewolf who attacks random people for some sort of idiotic pack bonding ritual- And you, with your stupid brooding face and half-truths whenever you're confronted with a question, are not helping!"

Derek rolled his eyes at the teen, leaning against his car casually, "Then what d'you wanna know, huh?"

"I want to know who attacked the bus driver, and who killed your sister, and why your werewolf butt showed up in town at the same time Scott was bitten." Amber listed, counting off the questions on her fingers.

"I don't know who attacked the driver, alright? I was hoping Scott would once he triggered his memories." Derek stated.

"Okay, well.. What about your sister?" Amber asked.

"I don't know that for sure either," Derek said, crossing his arms over his chest, "I really did follow my sister here. I didn't lie to you."

"Okay, well-" Amber started, cutting herself off when Derek's focus suddenly snapped down the street, his eyes wide and his brows furrowed, "What?"

"Get in the car and hide on the floor in the back seat." Derek ordered, moving to grab her bike and throwing it into the bushes at the edge of the parking lot like it weighed nothing.

"What? Why would I-"

Derek was already opening the door and pulling the seat forward. He picked her up easily and shoved her into the backseat of the car, repeating himself, "Hide on the floor." He demanded, pushing the seat back upright, "Don't move. Don't make a sound. Got it?"

Amber bit her lower lip nervously but nodded. The moment she gave her confirmation, the door to the Camero was slammed shut and Derek rounded the car and began the process of filling his gas tank.

The sound of several more car doors opening and closing sounded out and Amber curled tighter on the floor of the car to hide herself away from the tinted windows. Everyone outside of the car was silent for a long minute and eventually, she heard Derek pull the pump from the side of the car and flip the gas cap closed.

She remained on the floor and listened as a male voice began speaking at the passenger side of the car near where Derek was standing.

"Nice ride." The man finally said, "Black cars, though.. Very hard to keep clean. I would definitely suggest a little more maintenance. If you have something this nice, you want to take care of it. Right?"

Something soft slapped wetly against the windshield and Amber flinched, peeking around the passenger seat to see the arm of someone cleaning the windshield with a squeegee.

"Personally, I'm very protective of the things I love." The man continued as he wiped down the glass, "But, that's something I learned from my family, and you don't have much of that these days. Do you?"

Anger flared in Amber's chest at the insensitive comment that was most likely meant to pull a reaction out of Derek. It didn't seem to have worked, as Derek remained silent and out of her line of sight from the floor. It was, however, effective in making the girl inside the car begin to feel protective and quietly enraged.

"There we go." The man said after a moment, stepping back from the car, "You can actually look through your windshield now. See how that makes everything so much clearer?"

Amber watched through the small crack between the passenger door and the seat as the man began to walk away, he was wearing a tan jacket and his hair was heavily graying.

"You forgot to check the oil." Derek called out at the man's back brazenly, his voice deep and unaffected by the encounter.

"Check the man's oil." The man from before ordered someone after a long moment of silence.

Only a few seconds passed before someone approached the driver's side door. Amber ducked down tighter toward the floor just before someone broke through the front window with the butt of a large gun, glass shattering loudly and flying into the car as Amber flinched with a quiet gasp.

"Looks good to me." The second man said with mirth as he backed away from the car, not noticing the girl in the back.

"Drive safely." The first man told Derek, voice growing quieter as he walked away from the car for the second time.

A minute passed in which she could hear car doors opening and closing again, two engines turning over, and the sound of the vehicles driving away. As soon as the sounds retreated, Amber sat up a little straighter and watched as Derek tugged open the passenger door this time and pulled her back out of the car with his hands on her waist.

"Who the hell-"

"You okay?" Derek interrupted her, checking her arms and face for cuts. His eyes narrowed as he reached up and pulled a tiny piece of glass from her hairline without warning.

"Ow!" Amber flinched, pulling back a step and pressing her fingers to the tender spot where the glass had been lodged in her skin. When she pulled her hand away, her fingertips had a small drop of blood on them and she stared at the drop in a daze for a moment before looking up at Derek's frowning face, "Seriously, who-"

"Hunters." Derek told her, "Chris Argent and his crew. They didn't see you, though. You should be safe for now."

"For now?" Amber repeated in a squeak, "What do you mean for now?"

Derek sighed, "Scott's control isn't the only thing that puts you in danger. Just knowing him, being friends with him, that puts you in danger too. From hunters."

"I am not going to stop being friends with Scott." Amber told him resolutely.

"That doesn't surprise me." Derek stated, purposefully brushing his hands down Amber's jacket and jeans. Tiny shards of glass fell from her clothes and hit the pavement below with a quiet clinking. "Look, I'm on my way to check out the bus driver. I'm going to see if I can get any scents or clues off of him but you and Stiles- You need to stay out of things. You're human. It's not safe."

"But-"

"Go home." Derek ordered, pushing her gently in the direction of her bike.

Amber frowned, but approached the bicycle where it was sadly hanging out of the bushes, relatively unharmed considering it had been thrown across a gas station parking lot. She picked it up and looked back to see Derek already climbing into the Camaro and closing the door behind him.

She sighed, pulling her phone out to text Stiles to pick her up at home before throwing her leg over the bike and taking off in the direction of her house.

When she got to her house, she dropped her bike haphazardly against the front porch. Amber rushed inside to grab her backpack again and poked her head through the curtains to see Stiles already parked in the driveway once more.

"That literally took you less than an hour. I could've just hung around-" Stiles stated while she pulled open the passenger door and climbed into the Jeep, "What did you have to do?"

"Um-" Amber hesitated as she turned to buckle her seatbelt.

"Are you bleeding?" Stiles asked quickly, reaching out to brush her hair to the side and leaning closer to get a better look.

"Shit-" Amber cursed, having already forgotten about the small cut at her hairline.

Stiles tucked the hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear to hold it in place, leaning around her to open the glove compartment and pulling out a napkin before slapping it shut again.

"Why are you bleeding?" He demanded, pressing the napkin to the blood that had dripped down her forehead.

"I was going to ease you into it-"

"Ease me into what?"

"Well-" Amber sighed, taking the napkin from his hand and wiping at her forehead herself, "You're gonna be kind of mad."

Stiles sighed this time, "Amber, why am I gonna be mad?"

"I went to see Derek-" Amber started.

"Derek- Derek hurt you?" Stiles asked angrily. It was a tone Amber wasn't sure if she'd ever heard his voice take. The boy reached into the pocket of his jeans as he continued, "That's it. We're calling my dad and this time he'll arrest the deranged werewolf for-"

"Stiles, stop." Amber grabbed the phone from his hand when he pulled it out of his pocket, "Will you just listen? Yeah, I went to see Derek, but I'm bleeding because Allison's dad showed up with a bunch of other hunters and broke in the window on Derek's car."

"You were in his car again?"

"Yes, I was in his car. He told me to hide in there when he heard the hunters pulling up. But that's not the point, Stiles-"

"Unbelievable!" Stiles exclaimed, "You're about to defend him again, aren't you? You're still defending Derek?"

Amber took a deep breath, weighing her options.

"Why don't we talk about it later, then. Okay?" Amber asked. Stiles looked like he wanted to fight her on it but before he could say anything, she spoke again, "I'm starving. What did you want to order? Pizza? Chinese? Mal's?"

Stiles sighed, facing forward to back out of the driveway and begin driving.

When they had arrived at the Stilinski house, the two had quietly snuck their Chinese food upstairs, attempting to keep it far away from where Stiles' dad would have been sure to steal some of the greasy and likely artery-clogging takeout.

Amber's head was pillowed comfortably in Stiles' lap as she quizzed him with the stack of flash cards she'd worked on the night before. They had been at it in between picking at the food for over an hour and were nearly finished with the thirty card stack.

"Okay," She said, shimmying slightly as she readjusted to make sure he couldn't see the flash card if he tried to peek, "Chemical reaction resulting in a single product?"

"Synthesis?" He questioned, grabbing another spring roll from the bag beside him and reaching out on autopilot to allow Amber to take a bite from it.

She accepted the bite easily and nodded, flipping to the next card in the stack as she chewed, "And what type of reaction takes place in the presence of oxygen and produces carbon dioxide and water?"

"Combustion." He answered confidently this time, shoving the remainder of the spring roll in his mouth and eating it in a single bite.

"Last one," She announced, sitting up to face her friend dramatically, "Products of the double-replacement reaction between aqueous hydrogen bromide and aqueous sodium hydroxide?"

"Uh-" Stiles paused, tapping his hand against his thigh in thought, "I- Water and sodium bromide?"

Amber squealed excitedly, jumping forward on the bed to tackle him into the pillows with a hug, "We are so going to ace this test! And when we do, Mr. Harris can suck it!" She said with a muffled voice into the pillows behind his head.

She felt Stiles' laughter underneath her and she pushed up onto her elbows to hover over him, laughter faltering when she noticed how close they were. She blew out a soft puff air over his face, her eyes tracing the freckles and moles dotting his flushed cheeks before settling on his eyes. His eyelashes were dark and thick and the warm brown of his eyes appeared darker than normal in the uneven light shining from the desk lamp across the room.

His eyes flicked back and forth between her own and she couldn't help the way her gaze dropped down to his lips, bringing up pondering thoughts of whether they were as soft as they looked. She both saw and felt his exhale as it slipped from his mouth and blew out against her chin. Amber swallowed audibly, her arms relaxing a touch more into the mattress beneath him.

The moment was broken when the house phone rang loudly downstairs with an incoming call and Amber flinched, rolling to the side in a rush to get out of the bed. Stiles reached automatically for the cordless phone he had on the side of the bed, covering the mouthpiece as he picked up to listen in to his dad's call.

She watched silently until he hung up the phone, only seconds before the downstairs door slammed shut as the Sheriff left the house, "What is it?" She asked.

"The bus driver's dead."

"Shit." She grabbed her phone from the front pocket of her backpack and checked her messages to find one from Scott that she'd received only two minutes before, "Scott just texted that he dropped Allison off."

"Let's go, then." Stiles said, abandoning their school supplies and leftover Chinese takeout to pull her out of the house and back down to the Jeep, their previous moment forgotten.

When they pulled up to the house, the windows were dark and the family car that Scott was driving tonight was still missing from the driveway.

Stiles grabbed Amber's hand and tugged her over to the trellis at the side of the house. They used to climb it as kids — the same trellis Stiles had climbed just a few weeks before on the night Scott had been bitten.

Stiles began to climb and urged Amber to follow close behind, making his way up the wooden structure and quietly sliding open the unlocked window into Scott's bedroom. He climbed through and she followed, her foot catching on the windowsill and causing her to tumble through. She landed hard on Stiles' back and rolled off of him with a quiet apology as they righted themselves.

Suddenly, a figure moved through the dark doorway to Scott's bedroom wielding a weapon and Stiles and Amber seemed to notice it at the same time, yelling out in fear.

"Woah, woah!" Stiles yelled, bringing his arms up to protect them from any anticipated blow as Amber and their attacker both screamed loudly.

The room settled into silence for a brief moment as they took stock of the situation. Ms. McCall stepped back and lowered the baseball bat she was holding before scolding them loudly, "Guys! What the hell are you doing here!"

"What are we doing!?" Stiles yelled, pointing to the bat in the woman's hands, "God! Do either of you even play baseball?" He asked loudly, referring to when Scott had threatened him the same way.

The lights in the room suddenly flicked on, revealing Amber huddled behind Stiles on the bed, Ms. McCall standing in her robe with a baseball bat, and Scott standing in the doorway.

"Can you please tell your friends to use the front door?" Ms. McCall asked her son gently with a sigh.

"But we lock the front door," Scott said simply, "They wouldn't be able to get in."

"Yeah, exactly." The woman responded, still gripping the baseball bat loosely. "And, by the way, do any of you care that there's a police enforced curfew?"

"No." All three teens responded at the same time.

"'No!' Alright then. Well, you know what? That's about enough parenting for me for one night, so- Goodnight." Ms. McCall said in exasperation before leaving the room.

The three friends sat in silence in the room for only a minute before Scott gave them a look, "What?" He asked.

"My dad left for the hospital fifteen minutes ago- It's the bus driver." Stiles said, glancing at Amber beside him before continuing, "They said he succumbed to his wounds."

"Succumbed?" Scott asked in confusion.

"He's dead, Scott." Amber clarified. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach telling her that, somehow, things were only bound to get worse.

[mayajadewrites]

Levi Ackerman x Reader: Moth to a Flame

CHAPTER TWO

chapter synopsis: You're put in a training group for the day, is it to show your skills or so Levi can watch you?

ao3

C H A P T E R T W O – B U T T O N

"Oi." Levi spoke, his arms across his chest. "Listen, you're going to be put into training groups of 4. You're going to spar each other and test your ODM gear skills."

The group nods in unison. "Yes, sir."

"The groups are as follows." Levi lists off names while you anxiously waiting for him to utter your name.

"Lastly, Kirstein, Ackerman, Yaeger, and..." Levi said your surname, almost in a softer tone than the others.

You and Mikasa are arguably the strongest in the regiment, after Captain Levi of course. You're both super fast and work well together when it comes to fighting titans.

Jean and Eren, well they need some help.

"I think he made this group on purpose." Mikasa whispered in your ear. You freeze for a moment. Did she know about you and Levi?

"Why do you think that?"

"We're obviously the strongest and most skilled. Eren and Jean are almost there, but not on our level. So we can show them how its done."

One thing about Mikasa is that she always has her eye on the goal. In the scout regiment, it's to save humanity.

You strap on the ODM gear, tightening the straps around your thighs.

"I wish I could live in between these thighs." Levi kissed the inside of your thigh, trailing his mouth to the fabric of your panties.

Shaking the thought out of your head, you look for your group. Eren and Jean were arguing (per usual) while Mikasa rolled her eyes behind them.

Captain Levi was observing next to Commander Hange. She was always so enthusiastic about watching us train, especially when she just finished an experiment with titans.

"Hey," Jean said your name, waving you to go over to him. "Wanna spar?"

"Sure." You smile, making sure your ODM gear is in tact. While you and Jean maneuver around each other, you feel a pair of eyes on you.

Jean trips over a rock on the ground, pushing his body against yours to the ground.

"You would trip over a tiny ass rock." You laugh as Jean is still on top of you, a chuckle leaving his mouth.

"I fight fucking titans, but a ROCK is what fumbles me."

"What's going on over here?" Levi's voice boomed. You heard his footsteps near your feet. "Kirstein. On your feet."

"Sorry Captain, I tripped. I didn't see that rock." Jean pointed to the rock, brushing his shirt off before helping you up. You take his hand, a bit tighter than normal. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, really." You nod, looking down at your body. The button to your shirt popped open at your chest, revealing your clavicle.

"You need to see a nurse." Levi analyzed your body.

"I don't even think I have a scratch, Captain. Really it's fine."

"That wasn't a question." Levi turned around before you could speak. No part of your body hurt, and it's not like Jean did it intentionally.

You turn to head to the main building with the nurses office, rolling your eyes because this is certainly a waste of time.

As you reach the office, you hear familiar footsteps.

"Captain, don't waste your time on this." You look at Levi. "I'm really fine. It's not like Jean did it on purpose, and I barely fell."

"You could have internal injuries. Maybe a concussion."

"You're being ridiculous." You almost lose your composure as you walk into the nurses office. "I'm fine."

"Well I need to make sure that's true."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"You look good, cadet." The nurse, Rachel, patted your knee. "You have a little bruise on your chest, but it's nothing to worry about."

"See?" You look at Levi. "Can I go back to training now?"

"No." Levi turned on his heels, exiting the office.

You were stunned. Confirmation from the nurse that you're okay means nothing?

You follow Levi out the door, trying to catch up to him. "Captain, a word please."

Levi turns around, his steel eyes fixed on yours.

"Why can't I go back to training? We have a mission at the end of the week that Commander Erwin has developed a whole plan for. You need me to fight."

"You need to rest today, I can't have you at anything less than your best. Especially because of the mission." Levi took a step toward you. "That's an order."

Your eyes wander around Levi's face, his undercut fresh, his eyes that beautiful shade of stone that you love.

Loved.

You take another step towards Levi, hoping he would move away from you so you can forget these feelings once again.

But he doesn't. He just looks at you, your body, almost fixating on your chest. Your button was still popped, some sweat dripping down your breasts from the end of summer/autumn air.

Levi's tongue grazed his bottom lip. "Button your shirt. Before you get dress-coded."

With that, Levi is gone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

During dinner, Jean kept stealing glances of you. When he fell on you, there was some sort of spark. You've never looked at Jean in that way, but now it's more of a possibility.

Especially since you're no longer sleeping with Levi.

"How are you feeling?" Jean asked you, sliding his leg close to yours. He was sitting next to you, Connie and Sasha were next to him, and Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were on the other side of the table.

"I'm fine, really. Don't worry about me." You take a sip of your water.

"Nice one, Jean. You could've been in deep shit if you actually hurt her." Eren rolled his eyes.

"You're acting like I did that on purpose!"

"Maybe you did." Eren smirked. "Not to hurt her, though."

"Shut up Eren." Jean's eyes were wide. Jean is no good at hiding what he's feeling – you can tell all over his face. It's obvious Jean has a tiny crush on you, you've just never given him that time of day.

"Jean, do you wanna go for a walk?" You suggest, standing up from the table. Jean nodded and followed you out, Eren making kissing noises from the table.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Are you sure I didn't hurt you?" Jean questioned.

"Please stop asking. If I was hurt you would know." You look up at the night sky, watching the moon. "You know, when I was younger I always thought the moon was following me."

"Me too." Jean laughed. "I would always close my eyes for a minute, hoping the moon would be hiding."

Jean told you about his childhood, about his family and what he likes to do for fun. Well, liked. Before the scouts.

He's very easy to talk to, unlike some people.

"What do you two think you're doing?"

[doodle-pops]

Sooo.. I’ve been thinking about this for a while and it’s been living rent free in my head for a while. What do you think an enemies to lovers trope with Glorfindel would be like (how could you hate this ball of sunshine, but I guess that’s why I wanted to ask)? I’m sorry if this sounds rude or if I was bothering you, thank you.

Glorfindel?! The resident ray of sunshine?! Anon, shame on you for wanting to bring hurt to our Golden Retriever 😟. Though, I can surprisely think of a few scenarios because that's unfortunately my ability as a single braincell writer 😖

Under the cut because it's A LOT. I gave two scenarios :)

Being a descendant of House Feanor

Let's give Glorfindel a sibling (and no, not Elenwe because I know lots of people headcanon them as siblings) who died on the ice while crossing. Tragic, I know 😓

As much Glorfindel puts on the façade of being cheerful, he's furious towards the House of Feanor for the ship burning which led to his sibling dying on the ice.

In comes you, whichever position you want as a Feanorian—their sibling or child—in the 2nd age where Glorfindel makes it clear that he hasn't forgiven you for your actions at Losgar and his sibling dying. As much as you attempt to settle the situation calmly, Glorfindel makes it clear that he doesn't forgive you.

Perhaps from there, the enemies to lovers troupe begin. The two of you constantly clashing despite attempts at distance yourself. Words and insults are flung at one another, more privately because he doesn't want people to witness his aggressive demeanour. And so, you begin to despise the ever fabric of his existence because he was ruining your peace you were attempting to find after years of chaos.

You are constantly left defending yourself, (whether you did burn the boats or not is up to you) because somewhere along the lines, either of you will begin to catch feelings like it's contagious. Perhaps an incident where you're missing after riding out on a trip and you went missing. Glorfindel is told to lead the search and rescue party and he's FOAMING at his mouth because you can't preform a simple task without messing it up. (Sir🤚, please stop being so aggressive. I'm a sensitive baby 🥺😭. Go easy on me 🥺👉👈)

And well, from there, it's pretty obvious how those end up. Spending days searching for you, he eventually does come across you on his own and has to fight off orcs/captors. He probably gets injured and you're left to nurse him back to health. As much as he resists, he's grateful, but tries to put up a wall to not let anything else occur. F A I L U R E. His sass doesn't cut it this time because you came prepared to handle his ass.

After spending weeks A L O N E and having to get along, ✨romance✨ is in the air and confessions are made. Not just romantic confession, but apologies as well. A little whisper of, “You're not as bad as I considered you to be.” OMG!!

And you both lived happily ever after when you returned and began pursuing each other and surprised the public.

For the other one, I can only think of enemy to lovers which is different from enemies to lovers. This one is a one-sided hate from reader's end.

Mortal reader

Reader is mortal and probably has an ongoing feud with elves in general. Maybe when one of her villages was being destroyed by an orc raid and help was needed, the elves never came. Eventually, once day reader becomes injured too close to Rivendell and wakes up in the healing wing.

You can just imagine how much confusion and disgust they're experiencing in that moment. Lord Elrond would introduce himself and attempt to calm them, and then in the wonderful moment of reassuring reader's safety, he mentions it was Lord Glorfindel who was responsible for military service that found them.

Well would you just look at how reader's blood is going to boil at the realisation of being saved by the people who they had hoped to help their village when it was under attack. Ah, yes! Reader starts hating Glorfindel before they even met.

Let's say that during their choice to remain locked up in the healing wing, Glorfindel wants to know if the mortal he saved was secure, so an unfortunate visit was made. And reader, upon learning of his identity through harmless introductions, becomes enraged that he would even attempt to visit.

Because of the orc raid, reader's family died, hence the reason for the hatred. Glorfindel, now, is confused but also saddened at the accusations being made towards him and his kin for their lack of support and care to other races apart from themselves.

Attempting to dissolve the tension doesn't go as planned because reader refuses to accept any apologies despite Glorfindel's plead to understand their reason for not coming on time to help. They were basically held back by ambush but reader isn't buying it.

Lord Elrond would inform reader to dwell a little while longer until their wounds were healed. Reader chooses to stay indoors and out of sight however, Glorfindel persists on making reader see his POV. And so the chase begins.

Reader hating Glorfindel and avoiding him while Glorfindel isn't backing down (Never back down never what?! Never give up!) and pursuing reader to be reasonable and understanding. It's not an easy task, but this is the renowned Lord Glorfindel, the Balrog Slayer. He never gives up.

Perhaps insert reader slowly having their views of the elves hospitality changing during their time there which opens up their horizons. Lord Elrond having an input when he comes across reader sulking in the gardens during a check up an ear of advice to which reader contemplates.

Then suddenly, well being prepared to face Glorfindel once again, he doesn't show up. In fact, he stops showing up and pursuing reader finally concluding that his presence was making things worse. This brings a pang of disappointment as reader was looking forward to conversing with him. Even when they search for him, he keeps things short and distances himself with an apology and bow. 😭 (I'm not okay)

G U I L T eats at readers soul because throughout the angry back and forth banter, they were enjoying it and his presence. Even as they go over their shared conversations, it makes them slightly giddy as they find themself laughing. This makes them realise where they stand on their thoughts and feeling towards him.

Eventually (after swallowing their pride), they receive help to make an apology to Glorfindel. It's not a romantic confession, but more a platonic thing at first. Something along the lines of a friendship before it graduates into romance. It's all about overcoming their hate and reasoning with themselves and not blaming others instead of being understanding.

[fivepercentgodsandearths]

THE GOD'S AND EARTHS VIRTUAL STREET ACADEMY!

In The Name of God Rali8k-U-Allah!

Peace Kings and Queens of Allah 5% Nation!

Today's Mathematics is Wisdom-Build or Destroy, all Born to equal Knowlege-Cipher, all Born to the what? K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E! The Knowledge is the foundation to everything in existence! In our Supreme Alphabet, Knowledge borns A-L-L-A-H! Regardless to whom or what, all things derive from Almighty God, the Father, Allah himself.

There is absolutely no "Mystery, unseen" God, and the Father Showed and Proved this 100% Right and Exact when he took Elijah words, which were the answers to W.D. Fard questions, and from their Knowledge and Wisdom, Allah born the Understanding! Understanding means to see, and Allah made the Knowlkedge and Wisdom so chrystal clear that his students, the children could see it! Elijah was successful to a limited degree because like Yacub, he gave his people Laws, Rules and Regulations! He knew that they were still mentally dead, so he put them under the penalty of death for every Law they broke!

Allah did not give us Rules and Regulations because he knew we were Righteous by nature, and all he had to do was give us the what?

"U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D-I-N-G!" He knew if he taught us right and exact, that the Knowledge, like a seed would take root within our hearts and minds and it would grow in us and we would grow in it!

Words matter, and there is no un-important or insignificant word within Supreme Mathematics or Supreme Alphabet, and when we speak and let our Wisdom-Build, it would overtake and destroy all aspects of trick-knowledge and as Allah made manifest, time will tell, and all things will reveal itself in its own good time!

The 85% are mentally dead, and all the education and so-called schooling will not raise them from the mental grave because the 85% are weak, and would rather embrace the devils false teachings of Christianity, does not have the power to raise the mentally dead, because the Power is the Truth, and the Truth of the Original Mans history and his existence is that the only True and Living God is the Blackman himself!

The devil knows the Truth of our existence, and even he can't conceal the Truth 100%! Why do you think that he places the image of the greatest construction in the world, which is the Pyramid on his most valued possession which is the what! D-O-L-L-A-R Bill!

I attended my Grand Queens graduation and celebration a few weeks ago in Lords Island! The young Queen is going to the University of Southern California (USC) on a full scholarship in Allah-You-God, and her Major is Psychaitry! Psychiatry is synonymous with "Mentality," and she will be diagnosing and treating the savage mentally dead. She will be able to teach the 85% why they are mentally sick, and unable to live a Righteous way of life. This is a measurement of how far Allah Children have elevated.

Positive-Education-Always-Creates-Evolution for Allah's Children!