#Decided to expand on this idea of mine

[radiance1]

Subject Alpha was a curious case, in his own opinion.

He doesn't have any memories of himself, nor of anyone and anything else. Only his name.

Alpha.

He had an overhanging feeling that he shouldn't even be alive, that he shouldn't even be existing right now.

But he does.

When he first awoke, he didn't understand anything, know anything. So he just wandered around wherever his legs could take him, slowly pulling together the pieces of this strange world and gaining some level of understanding.

Now though, he came far from where he started out as a nobody, someone with no purpose. He managed to acquire a floating casino all of his own, something he went to great and painful lengths to pull into his hands.

He finally had a purpose.

Of course, he knew no one would take someone who the physical appearance of a child seriously, so he took to wearing a mask and a voice changer to make him seem more adult like.

He barely had any powers to speak of, but a power he did have was the ability to summon and manipulate chains, along with immunity to various poisons and toxins, given to him by a benefactor after he helped them.

Why the resistance to poisons and toxins, his benefactor asked? He had an encounter with poison, he'll leave it at that.

He didn't know what to do with it, at first, but over his short existence, he managed to become proficient in it to pose a threat.

It was insanely helpful when he encountered Omega, it was after he obtained his casino, wanting to trace back his origins took him to the ruined town of Amity Park, a town filled with violent failed experiments and dangerous toxins.

Omega was a relentless, and ruthless, individual. His attacks were quick, precise, and held power greater than his own, and his string was more than enough of a problem for Alpha. The pure flexibility of his chains was one of the only reasons he managed to hold out against him, and his resistance to toxins did come in handy when he used the ones dumped around Amity to his advantage.

Subject Omega, for all of his might, was not immune to toxins, his body may break them down faster than the average human, but compared to immunity he didn't hold a candle to Alpha.

Even still, Omega was relentless.

A relentless greatly backed by his superhuman amounts of stamina, stamina that Alpha was losing.

The only reason he ceased fighting was when his mask was broken by a well-placed nail strike that would have killed Alpha, had he not dodged. Omega paused, staring at his face for a while before dragging him over to what he called the Final Resting Place.

Alpha... didn't know what to feel about his origins, at all. He was glad to finally learn where he came from, but the circumstances of his- no, their creation was a hard pill to swallow. He stared at the boy; the boy killed by his parents that was the template for his creation.

He felt conflicted.

Subject Omega and Subject Alpha were similar enough in design, except for the fact that Alpha had white hair, and Omega black. They both couldn't 'go ghost' like the original, so they just normal humans, though under the term of 'metahuman' if they were going to be accurate.

Alpha was one of the only clones besides Omega to have a 'name' rather than a number.

He... was abandoned, because his hair was white instead of black, and because he was almost unstable that they thought he would have died in a few days at the most.

His current existence proved them wrong. He laughed, a few snickers at first, maybe, then some chuckles to full out laughter.

He outlived his creators after having been abandoned because of short life expectancy. Then started crying, because wow aren't his origins messed up, he comforted by Omega, in his own, weird way by showing the bodies of the Fenton's just laying in bed, as if they were sleeping and not dead.

It brought him some strange sense of satisfaction, seeing that.

Does this make them brothers? He thinks it does, he asked Omega and he said sure. He gained the older brother moniker, due to being created earlier than his Omega.

Then he left Amity Park, he had a casino to run, after all. Though he did have to remake his mask, and the voice changer, but it wasn't something he couldn't do. He didn't try to force Omega out from Amity, he had a purpose and knowing what it was like to not have a purpose made him understand why he wanted to stay behind.

[bitin-and-barkin]

Btw feel free to use any concepts I make as writing prompts/material for ur own fanfics

[ceruark]

ensnared. (yandere! prince! sunday x gn! royalty! reader)

synopsis: prince sunday invites you to dance the entwine with him. if you evade capture, he’ll finally leave you alone. but if you get caught, you’re his forever. cw: general yandere themes - obsessive & possessive behavior, implied stalking words: 3,991 disclaimer/inspiration: the dance “The Entwine” is not my idea! it's from the novel Entwined by Heather Dixon, an all-time favorite of mine :)

“The Entwine, also known as the Gentleman’s Catch, is an amusing and challenging redowa suitable for accomplished partners. [...] Similar to a trois-temps waltz, it is danced in open position with a long sash. The lady and gentleman each take ends of the sash, which their hands must not leave. In a series of quick steps (see below) the gentleman either twists the sash around the lady’s wrists, pinning them (also known as the Catch), or the lady eludes capture within three minutes’ time. STEPS. Twist (35), Needle’s Eye (35), Dip and Turn (36), Lady’s Feint (36), Bridge Arc (36), Under-Arm Swoop (37), Thread (37), Beading the Sash (38), the Catch (38).”

Excerpt from Entwined by Heather Dixon

It has been a year since the queen died.

You stand in the grand ballroom of your palace for the first time since your mother's death. It seems dimmer without her, lacking the light her laughter brought to it. Every shift of skirts has you looking for her, only to be disappointed when you catch yourself seeking out a ghost.

She ruled alone for nearly fifteen years. After your father died in battle when you were young, many other kingdoms tried to swoop in after she became widowed. They vied for her hand in marriage so they could expand their territory and get their hands on the lucrative gemstones that are excavated from your land's caverns. But the queen was unshakable, and she refused to remarry, continuing to keep her kingdom safe and opulent all on her own.

And she died last winter, an incurable sickness settling in her lungs seemingly overnight and stealing her final breath within the week.

You hardly had time to mourn her. With no one sitting on the throne, your mother's advisory court scrambled to find you a suitor so that you could marry and be crowned as soon as possible. There hadn't been a rush to find you one, but with the queen's sudden death, they need to get you on the throne before someone else came along to seize it.

Tonight, Welt— formerly your mother's personal advisor— had declared while you prepared for the ball. Tonight, we will find you a suitor. You will be coronated by summer.

You sigh as your gaze sweeps over the ballroom. Truthfully, you have no interest in any of the attendants. Most of them don't have anything noteworthy about their personalities, and those that do are individuals you've mentally decided are best kept at arm's length. You’re certain that more than half your selection pool were invited out of courtesy; none of them possess enough influence or value for your mother's advisory court to approve of a marriage between the two of you.

Except for one.

Penacony's beloved prince has been pursuing you for as long as you could remember. It started off innocent, a mere childhood crush. Long before you were adolescents, he would pluck flowers from the centerpiece vases on ballroom tables and hand them to you, ever the gentleman. You can still remember the sound of whichever court member was assigned to look after you cooing at the sight, endeared as you accepted the flower from his hands and spent the rest of the night at his side, discussing all the important matters that plagued the minds of young royalty.

And then, things changed.

As you two grew older, something about him shifted— you couldn't quite explain it. It made your skin crawl, the way his gaze trailed you throughout the ballroom, the way his fingers lingered just a little too long when he kissed your hand in greeting, the way anyone you shared mutual romantic interest with started avoiding you like the plague the second he heard of your budding relationship. There was something off about him— about his infatuation with you— and you distanced yourself from him as much as possible over the years.

Your mother's advisory court had been furious; they believed your eventual marriage to Sunday was set in stone given how taken you were with each other as children, and they planned for a prosperous future backed by Penacony's enormous and infinite wealth. They took your refusal to interact with him as rebellion and scoffed at your explanations, but luckily, you weren't alone in your suspicions. Your mother and Welt were also unsettled by the way he looked at you at formal gatherings, and your mother swiftly shut down her court's insistences on you trying to make amends with Penacony's prince.

We have no need for marriages of convenience. My child's happiness and safety will be valued above all else, she told them, and it was the end of the discussion.

Welt has upheld her and your wishes following her death, but the rest of the court are more willing to challenge him than they'd been to challenge the queen. Multiple court members have pestered you about marrying Sunday, stating that he would readily agree; you would get on the throne quickly, and the kingdom would prosper with his empire’s assets. Though they drop the topic the second you snap at them, you can tell they're still scheming, pulling at whatever strings they can to bring the prince back into your favor and push you into his arms.

And the undeniable proof of that stands across the room, piercing you with his golden eyes. Of course he's among the guests the court selected for you to choose your partner from. What else could you expect from them?

You sigh and swipe a glass of wine off a nearby table. It's going to be an incredibly long night.

As you sip at the bitter liquid and eye the blonde prince from Belobog, a familiar voice sounds behind you. "Something troubles you, Your Highness."

You turn around, relaxing at the sight of your faithful personal advisor. Veritas gazes down at you, face as neutral as ever.

"Someone," you respond, a frown tugging at your lips. "It appears the court is still refusing to let go of their little delusion."

He glances over your shoulder and hums noncommittally. "It appears so."

You swirl the red wine around in your glass, continuing your sweep of the guests. Certainly, Belobog's prince seemed like your best option right now. Albeit easily flustered, he was sweet and courageous— you would be able to fall for him given the time.

"Gepard Landau?" Veritas asks, his gaze having followed yours to the man standing beside his sister and her wife.

You look up, meeting his doubtful gaze. "Do you see any better options?"

He takes another glance around the room, then grimaces. You bring your hand to your mouth, covering your sudden laugh.

"Though he may be the most respectable of your options, there is not much Belobog can offer you." He tilts his head, still staring out at the crowd. "I suggest you reconsider."

You flash him a tight, sarcastic smile. "If that is the standard you suggest I go by, then my options are narrowed down to Aventurine and Sunday."

You get along fine with the blonde lord hailing from IPC territory, and he possesses charm like no other. He's gotten you more flustered than any other suitor has, but you know it's all fake. Something lurks beneath his picture-perfect exterior, and he keeps his cards too close to his chest for you to guess what his true intentions are. Someone like that can't be good news for you.

Veritas sighs. "I suppose Landau will have to do, then."

A flurry of movement and fabric draws your gaze to the dance floor. You light up as you watch two figures dance in the center of the crowd, one ducking and dodging out of reach while the other tries with fervor to capture them in their arms.

They've finally brought out the silk sashes used to dance the Entwine.

Your Entwine record is exemplary. When dancing as the gentleman, there were only a handful of people you hadn't been able to catch— Aventurine being one of them. Though your record dancing as gentleman is flawed, your skill when dancing as lady is unmatched and known far and wide.

In all your years, you have never been caught during a dance.

"Wonderful," you say, adrenaline rushing through your veins. You could already feel the exhilaration that came with successful capture and evasion. You turn to your advisor, eyes glistening beneath the lights. "Veritas, would you be so kind as to humor me with a dance?"

You think it's the light playing tricks on your eyes when he flushes red. Before he can respond, though, Welt strides up to the two of you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"Perhaps you could get to know your potential suitors better through the Entwine, no?" The man you've come to think of as a father figure smiles down at you, the corners of his eyes creasing as he does. "You enjoy it so much, hopefully it can be used to bring you closer to someone— both literally and figuratively speaking."

Your smile matches his. "I think that's a great idea."

"Perfect." Welt turns toward the dance floor. "Allow me to announce—"

He stops dead in his tracks, freezing just in time to prevent himself from walking into someone. He backs up, and your blood runs cold at the sight left behind.

Sunday stands before you, pristine as ever, with a silver sash draped over his arm.

Welt finds his voice before you do. "Prince Oak," he greets, dipping his head into a bow. "A pleasure to see you again. We are very grateful for your attendance."

Sunday looks at him. The fond expression he had fixed on you smooths out into his perfect half-smile. He nods at Welt in acknowledgement. "Imperial Advisor Yang." He turns to your left, appearing less enthused to greet Veritas. "Imperial Advisor Ratio."

His eyes land on you again, and a chill runs down your spine. You force a polite smile onto your face, bowing your head slightly. "Prince Oak. An honor to see you again."

He sounds breathless when he responds. "The honor is all mine."

When his gaze starts to grow heavy on your shoulders, Welt clears his throat. He eyes the fabric hanging off of Sunday's arm. "I suppose you are here with... intent, yes?"

"Correct," Sunday says. He glances down at the silk, reaching up to pinch a part of it between his fingers.

He meets your eyes again, his face imperceptible. It's more terrifying than his openly longing and lingering gaze.

"I wish to dance the Entwine with you," he says, voice diplomatic and devoid of emotion. "If you are willing."

You clench your hands behind your back. "Will you be dancing gentleman or lady?"

"Gentleman." He pauses, voice lowering a bit. "I wish to try and catch you."

You smother a scowl before it can crawl its way onto your face. Of course he would want to dance as gentleman. How typical.

But there's something to his demeanor that tells you there's more to it than he's letting on. It's sitting on the tip of his tongue: his real intent behind asking you to dance with him.

"For what reason do you wish to dance with me?" In a quieter, harsher tone, you add, "Be honest with me, or I will refuse outright."

His fingers run over the fabric, smoothing out any wrinkles that snag them. He tilts his head to the side, and the desire that swims in his eyes leaves you shaking.

"If I catch you," he says slowly, "you will give me your hand in marriage."

Bile burns at the back of your throat, your anxiety clawing its way up and trying to escape. It's a bold declaration, especially when directed at someone who has never been caught before. Your faith in your skill is resolute, but the sheer desperation on his face is enough to make you hesitate.

Your voice trembles slightly when you speak. "And if you fail?"

He hums, flicking his gaze off to the side. "If I fail, I will never ask for it again."

You latch onto the statement like a moth to a flame. All you have to do is avoid capture— something you've done time and again— to get him to leave you alone. You've never seen him dance the Entwine, or show any interest in it; undoubtedly, your skill will lead you to successful evasion.

This is your chance to get him off your back, for good.

Before you can respond, a firm hand comes down on your shoulder, pulling you backward.

"Your Highness," Veritas whispers into your ear, barely contained urgency lacing his words. "Please consider this carefully. Is this a risk you are willing to take?"

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. "I have never been caught," you mutter back.

His brows pinch together. "There is a first time for everything, and you cannot afford to let this one be that time."

You clench your jaw and cast Sunday a sidelong glance. He stares back at you, his posture perfect and features serene despite the way his eyes drink you in, ravenous. There is, as always, truth to what Veritas is saying; you've never seen Sunday dance the Entwine, but that doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't know how, or that he isn't good at it. There's still a high chance you'll be able to evade him given your record, but the chance of him being able to successfully pull off the Catch, though small, is still a potential outcome that shouldn’t be overlooked.

After all, he wouldn't be asking you if the possibility was as slim as you believe it to be.

You bite your lip, hesitating. You look to Welt, pleading for direction. He locks eyes with you briefly, looking just as concerned as Veritas, before he steps forward and partially shields you from Sunday's view.

"Perhaps another time," he says, a polite grin finding its way onto his face. "We are just coming out of mourning, and though it is nice to be part of festivities again, perhaps dancing is still a bit too much for Our Highness right now— the late queen was very fond of the Entwine. Please understand."

Sunday's mask wavers, irritation seeping through the cracks at Welt's excuse. His sharp gaze cuts back to you, but you let your eyes drift back to the dance floor, refusing to meet it.

The tension is broken by the sound of clapping. You turn your head, frowning at the sight of a member of the advisory court approaching.

"Oh, how lovely!" She swoons, pressing a hand to her chest. Her face is flushed from the wine and she speaks loudly, drawing the ballroom's attention to the cluster of people around you. "Our Highness is going to dance the Entwine with Prince Oak!"

All eyes are on you. Your guests whisper to each other, their excitement tangible and filling the air with charged energy. A long time coming, they think to themselves, oblivious to the unfortunate predicament you've found yourself in. Sunday's affinity for you isn't a secret, especially not to the royal families who watched you two grow up at each other's side. To them, this dance is simply an age-old rumor finally coming into fruition, the first step toward solidifying your relationship with Sunday. And to the advisors scattered around the ballroom, watching you like hawks, it is their efforts finally paying off— the final nail in your coffin that will secure the future they envision for your kingdom.

Refusing him now, under countless pairs of hopeful eyes, would undoubtedly leave an ugly smear on your reputation and the integrity of your kingdom.

Your tongue sits dry and heavy in your mouth. You almost choke on it when Sunday's hand finds the small of your back, gently guiding you toward the dance floor. He practically preens under the attention and pressure. It makes you sick.

Another hand catches your elbow in a bruising grip, and you jolt back, only barely catching yourself to make it seem as though you tripped. You angle your body in a way that prevents the crowd from seeing Veritas's vice grip on your arm.

"My Highness has not agreed to anything yet," he bites out in a low whisper, venom dripping off his tongue.

Sunday's eyes snap to him. His scathing glare does nothing to deter your advisor, who glares back at him in response.

When he looks back to you, the deceptively serene look has returned. With the arm not holding the sash, he extends a hand out to you, tilting his head to the side in question. The guests closest to you all coo fondly.

There's a hint of a smirk on his face. "May I have this dance?"

You place a hand over Veritas's, gently prying his fingers from your arm. You can't bear to look at him right now. "It will be fine," you murmur. "I promise."

You run your hands along your sleeves, wiping off as much of the sweat as you can. You inhale shakily, trying to keep the ballroom tile beneath your feet from swimming.

You look up, a practiced, graceful smile tilting your lips upward. You delicately place your hand in his, suppressing a shudder when he brings it to his lips and presses it to them. The steadiness and strength in your voice surprises you when you say, "Of course, Prince Oak."

The ballroom erupts into a mixture of chatter and cheers. Court advisors pester the crowd surrounding the dance floor, ushering them back and trying to clear a pathway for the two of you. You swallow thickly as Sunday closes his hand around your trembling one.

You turn to Welt and gesture at his pocket with your free hand. "If you would be so kind, Advisor Welt."

He nods stiffly, reaching into his coat and producing a golden pocket watch. "Of course, Your Highness."

Your heart hammers against your ribcage as Sunday guides you to the dance floor. A numbness settles over you, and you robotically nod and smile at the guests that you pass. Their eyes shine with an adoration that you could never possess for this supposed relationship— for him.

Sunday releases your hand when you two reach the center of the dance floor. His eyes are dark as he holds one end of the sash out to you. You take it into your hands and back away from him, toward the other end of the floor. Sunday does the same, and you both stop when the sash is pulled so taught that it tugs you a few steps forward.

The familiar fabric and set-up do little to comfort you.

The crowd shifts again, and Welt emerges from it, standing front and center before the dance floor. He holds the pocket watch up to his face, and your breath hitches with anticipation.

"Your three minutes begins..." His voice reverberates off the ballroom walls, resounding clearly over the jubilant tune the orchestra plays.

"Now."

Adrenaline shoots through you like lightning, and you fly into motion. Your vision sharpens, focused in on every movement Sunday makes as you analyze the arc of his arms and the force behind his tugs on the sash. With each under-arm swoop, you dip beneath his arms and twirl away from him with ease, the steps of the dance coming to you the way breathing does.

He's an adept dancer, you'll give him that. Perhaps if his partner was anyone else, he would have already caught them already, within the first minute of the dance. But you are untouchable on an average night, and on this one in particular, you push yourself past your limits, propelled forward by a fervor and desperation to evade his every attempt of entangling you in his arms.

Twist. Needle's Eye.

"Two minutes," Welt calls out.

Approaching another under-arm swoop, you glance at Sunday's face just in time to see displeasure flicker across it at Welt's announcement. As you glide away from him once more, unfurling the sash between you two, he gives it a sharp tug, causing you to stumble a bit and lose your footing. Your heart skips a beat, but you quickly recover, forcing your limbs to move faster and smoother and match the rapid tempo he has now set for the dance.

Sweat beads along your upper lip as you duck under Sunday's arms repeatedly. You're managing just fine, but you've never had to push yourself this hard before; keeping a close eye on his movements while making sure the sash doesn't get tangled around your wrists is a delicate balancing act, and you can feel yourself teetering back and forth, dangerously close to falling off.

He's a far more formidable partner than you could have ever imagined.

Dip and Turn. Lady's Feint.

"One minute."

Sunday furiously yanks on the sash mid-twirl, and you stagger forward. The sash wraps around your wrists once, twice— three times before you regain your footing and lean back, narrowly avoiding Sunday's sweeping arm that almost hooks around your own.

A chorus of gasps ripples through the crowd at your near capture. It worsens your fraying nerves.

You exhale with exertion, trembling on unsteady legs as Sunday raises the stakes yet again. The tempo he sets is merciless, and your body is jostled between the last of your will and the harsh tugs from the other end of the sash. You grit your teeth. The silk digs tighter into your flesh and sends pinpricks of pain up your arms with each snap of his wrists.

Bridge Arc. Under-Arm Swoop.

"Thirty seconds."

The speed at which you weave in and out of spins leaves you dizzy, nauseous. The ballroom melts into incomprehensible shapes and colors around you. You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood, a pitiful attempt to ground yourself so you won't trip up. 

You do anyway; Sunday's movements are too fluid and swift to keep up with.

The sash binds around your wrists five more times, bringing you even closer to him— too close. You're not sure if it's skill, luck, or sheer force of will that allows you to continue to dodge his attempts at ensnaring you, but you know that you shouldn't be able to do it at this distance.

Frustration peeks through his graceful disposition. His golden eyes trail you, chasing after you as you elude his grasp once more.

Thread. Beading the Sash.

"Fifteen seconds."

You throw yourself into another dip, eyes locked onto the floor just beyond the arm obscuring your line of vision.

If you dodge this one, you'll be free.

Sunday lifts his arms suddenly and pulls, bringing the sash as far back as he can without letting go. Your arms twist in the air behind your back. A strangled gasp leaves you as you lose your footing. In a whirl of fabric, you stagger backward, away from the other side of his outstretched arm.

The Catch.

Your back slams into something solid, and before you can process what has happened, a firm arm snakes itself around your waist, pulling you flush against the body behind you. Your hands, still bound together, dig into your collarbone, suspended at an awkward angle from the sash held above you.

The crowd erupts into noise.

In front of you, a little girl pulls on her mother's sleeve and points in your direction. "Mommy, he caught Our Highness!"

Behind them, Veritas stares at you, petrified and speechless.

Snapping out of your stunned stupor feels like coming up for air after almost drowning. You suck in a shuddering breath and writhe, yanking your arms against the sash and leaning forward, futilely trying to escape. Sunday gathers the last of the fabric in his hands and gives it another sharp tug, keeping you in place against him.

He lowers his head, and his lips brush over your ear as he speaks. "Magnificent," he whispers. His voice rumbles with pleasure, almost to the point of purring. "You are truly a talented dancer."

"Let me go," you rasp out. You're physically exhausted, and your racing, panicked heart prevents you from catching your breath.

Sunday hums again, bringing the hand holding the sash to brush your cheek gently. "Why would I do that?" He chuckles softly, and it's so genuine— not the slightest bit mocking— that it leaves you all the more unsettled. "I caught you."

He brings his arm down, settling it around your waist. His fingers brush over your bound hands, and he presses a tender kiss to your cheek.

"You're finally mine."

[dolicekiss]

Hi I'm not sure if you're taking requests (i don't know how the request work so sorry)

Could u write a one-shot, where Reader and Duncan have a mission and them go to the place but before do the work, they arrive at a hotel and them only rent a room with one bed (obviously) Duncan tells her that he'll take the bed and she'll sleep on the floor, then he go to take a shower and she doesn't care about his request and takes the bed, Duncan comes out and them start to fight because she didn't listen him, until she suggests that both take the bed (Duncan don't like the idea but don't decline and just does it) after a while she stars to tempt him at first he's angry bout all the situation, but the moment takes another path and u alr know (smut) if u r comfortable with ofc. (And sorry my english isn't great sorry for the type errors)

This is an idea of one chat with a bot of c.ia but the bots r not as good as a writer <3

♡: anon i know about this bot and i have done some freaky stuff w it 🤭 i love this request

Contumacious

PAIRING: Duncan Vizla x Bratty!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), unprotected sex, age gap (reader is in her twenties), bratty reader, dominant duncan, tension, oral (male receiving), duncan calls reader ‘little girl’, overstimulation, choking, hair pulling, biting, slight blood, degrading, talkative duncan, slight (very minor) fluff at the end.

SYNOPSIS: On a mission, Duncan decides to stay at a hotel room for further planning and to rest. But when he orders you to take the floor and decides to stake his claim over the bed, things become heated between the two of you.

Duncan didn't expect to see a single bed in the room when he stormed in, along with you, who carried your own bag of basic necessities.

Frustration was as clear as water on his rough features when he realized he'd have to sacrifice a good night's sleep if he were to allow you slumber along him.

So he didn't sacrifice shit.

The man dropped his duffle bag over the bed, in a way branding it as his. “I get the bed, you get the floor.”

You couldn't even oppose because he'd already left for the bathroom, assuming to take a shower. Your lips formed a frown, brows furrowing. Just who did Duncan Vizla think he was? You both were equals on this mission, sent by Damucles to strike down a Mexican mob boss.

Duncan being older didn't mean he could do as he wished. You stood firm on give respect in order to receive it, age had nothing to do with it. You also placed your bag on the bed and slipped off your boots, sprawling across it.

If you had to take the bed forcefully, then so be it.

When Duncan was finished with his shower and came out, he was the least bit pleased with the sight afore him. You on your stomach, laying on the bed, feet up in the air and oscillating.

His bushy eyebrows scrunched in irritation. The man stormed towards you, standing right in front of you and you lifted your gaze up fron the pistol in your hands. Only to acknowledge him before going back to toying with the weapon in your hands.

That only worked to raise his anger more.

“I told you the bed is mine. Get your little ass off it.” You lifted your head, to face him and then slid off the bed. Now standing right in front of him — gaze unwavering and posture strong. Duncan knew you were one hell of a stubborn brat. He'd come across you before and he hated every bit of it.

You placed your hand on your hip.

A pose that struck him with a lash of irritation.

“It is a big bed and who are you to claim it first? Just because you're old, you think you can come in here and order me around?” Duncan’s eyes flared up. Nostrils expanding and the anger on his face was like embers swirling in lava.

He took a step forward. “Listen here, little girl. I might be old but you could never reach the amount of missions I have been successful at, nor do you know real struggle. Try sleeping in the Siberian Winds with no clothes, not a single thread to cover your damn body.”

You couldn't believe it.

He was rubbing his life experiences in your face as if he didn't himself chose to work for Damocles.

He became the black kaiser because he wanted to.

In the heat of the prickling anger, you also stepped forward. Your chest brushing against his. “You chose that for yourself but I won't let you choose the bed. Either we both sleep on it together or you take the fucking floor. There's no way in hell I'm sleeping on the floor.”

Duncan groaned.

He knew of the abundance stubbornness you possessed. There was no way you would back out, knowing that the way you got yourself snuck into his mission was by being completely adamant and demanding money if not allowed in.

But he too couldn't retreat, as his pride was on the line. “I could easily throw you on the floor, little girl.”

You snickered. “I'd like to see you try.”

Duncan stared at you. Drinking in your petite form and how small you were in comparison to him. Primal and dark was what stirred within the base of his abdomen when his mind finally grasped on how pathetic you were. Indeed you were a trained killer, amazing at martial arts too but Duncan knew against him you stood no chance.

Due to the diligence of your work and mission, Duncan never really focused on your features.

Your challenge nearly caused him to pick you up and toss you on the damn floor. Duncan raised his hand — fingers opening to wrap around your throat. The inside of his fingers brushed across your throat and you swallowed tightly, waiting for him to act out his aggression.

Duncan’s hand fell.

Your brow raised at his defeat. “Fine but you better keep at your side. If I see a damn leg or arm of yours on my side, you best believe I'm choppin’ it off.”

You dismissed him with your hand and Duncan’s hand formed into a fist. He really wanted to teach you a lesson. Hating how you paraded around Damocles like you were the only one, an egoistic but skilled assasian.

Just for the sake of the mission, Duncan let it go.

He settled on the bed on one side and watched you take out your own clothes from the duffle bag, making your way to the bathroom. In your hand were some panties and a loose, button up shirt. It was what you'd managed to pack in a hurry when you were told about your mission with Duncan.

Honestly, you sort of looked up to him.

No one was as heavily respected in Damocles as he was.

The Black Kaiser.

Aim perfect and sharp. He knew so many ways to discard the enemy and you'd only witnessed a few of them on this mission. It filled you with unbridled excitement when you'd finally landed yourself with him.

Your shower was relaxing. Warm water soothing all your strained muscles — the combat sure taking its toll on you. Slow hands caressing the skin, ridding of it any dirt that lingered. After done shampooing your hair and washing your body, you dried yourself and changed into your clothes.

The outfit was sultry to say the least but you knew Duncan was a man who would never find you attractive.

You knew of his irritation and annoyance aimed at you. It was honestly adorable at times how he got pissed, finding joy in pushing at his buttons.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Duncan’s head snapped into your direction and his expression hardened. There you sauntered towards the bed with bare thighs and plush breasts peeking out from within the confines of your shirt.

He swallowed, his adjustment of himself not slipping past you.

You laid down on the bed and let out a sigh, finally finding peace. A good night’s rest was surely needed and this bed could provide it all. As you shifted to find a comfortable position, your shirt rose up in the friction exposing the black lining of your panties.

Duncan caught a glimpse of it.

His eyes darkening.

“Could've worn something warmer.” Duncan said, not looking at you. A scowl made its way across your face as you sat up, body strength on your palms. Leaning forward made your loose shirt fall by your sides, cleavage revealed.

“You got a problem with everything, old man.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Is that your only retort? Calling me old?” He snapped, staring at you. For a moment his gaze lingered to your lips and then back up to your face. Eyes filled to the brim with frustration and something – dark too. Lust or maybe anger.

“Are you not old? I bet you can't even get it up anymore.” You chuckled and that seemed to have crossed the line. Duncan reached for you, hand entangling in your hair. You felt him tug on the roots and pull you closer, face only a mere inches away from yours.

Your breath hitched.

Fighting him right now could get really dirty and you wanted to see how far Duncan was willing to go. His action only working to entice you. “You really should watch your damn mouth, little girl. I don't take nicely to such disrespect.”

You let out a chuckle. “Accept it. You cannot get it up, old man.”

Duncan’s fist tightened, nostrils flaring at your impolite words. You stared at him, your tongue slithering out like an enticing snake and running across the plump of your lips in an attempt to seduce him. “Or can you? I've heard older men fuck better. Is that true, Duncan?”

Duncan growled.

He tugged you down, to between his legs. Duncan nuzzled your face against the tent in his trousers. His bulge protruding as he shoved your face against it. “Does that look like I can't get it up, little girl?”

You shook your head slowly, hands hastily moving to pull down his trousers, paired with his briefs. His cock sprung out, nearly hitting you in the face and a soft gasp escaped your lips. It was big — fucking massive and you hadn't expected a man of Duncan's age to have such a big cock. Precum sheened over his tip.

It was thick and you knew the pain of the stretch inside you would be delicious. Veins ran from its base, disappearing underneath the pink tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, fingers gently wrapping around the girth.

A sweet hiss fell from Duncan’s lips.

You parted your lips and pushed out your tongue, running it in little licks over his tip, managing to taste his salty precum. Duncan’s breath grew heavier along each lick — chest moving in a slow rhythm.

His fingers still drowned in your hair. Duncan tugged harder, an indication for you to pick up. So you did, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking it in, taking his fat cock all the way into your tight mouth until it had fully disappeared. You could feel it slip past the little uvula hanging in the air of your mouth, the warm flesh feeling like embers over your tongue.

“Jesus, you're pretty good at taking a cock.”

A giggle almost slipped — you attempted to breath through your nose and salvated around his throbbing dick. Your eyes met Duncan’s drowsy ones and as you whimpered, the vibrations from your throat shot straight through his abdomen.

His hands guided down your head furthermore, burying your nose into his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

Duncan pulled you up, only to slam his cock back inside your mouth. A repetitive action, his thighs shaking and flexing whenever the wetness and constriction of your throat welcomed him. Panting like a hungry beast, he fucked himself into your mouth.

Hips snapping up in desperate thrusts to gain his release.

“Good little girl. This is what your mouth is made for—what it's supposed to do.” He grunted when your struggles began in the form of small hands lightly punching at his thick thighs. “You're only a cocksucking little bitch.”

Tears stung your eyes from how horribly you gagged all over him. His tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat while moaning out loud. Divulging his pleasure to the people outside the hotel room.

Duncan loved the way you gagged around his cock. Tears sitting prettily in your beautiful eyes and he couldn't help but feel himself come near at the sight of you, this weak and pathetic underneath him. If he'd known sharing a bed would lead to this, the man would've given up in one single breath.

“Fuck—fuck. I'm close, I'm so fuckin’ close, my little girl. Keep suckin’ my cock like that, like the filthy bitch you are.” Duncan was vocal.

That was for sure and you enjoyed every bit of it.

After fucking your mouth for quite some time, Duncan finally shot loads of warm fluid down your throat. You struggled, kicking and thrashing everywhere but he didn't let go. He only continued to ride out his orgasm, feeling his own cock lubing up in the process of fucking his cum down your throat.

When he let you go, you promptly pulled back with a loud gasp. A sharp intake of oxygen. Cum and saliva dribbling in rivulets down your chin, tears wetting your cheeks. Duncan watched as your tits rose up and down, bouncing down slightly whenever you dragged in air.

Your eyes widened when you saw how Duncan’s soft cock suddenly became hard again, rising up. Curved and strong — tip caressing his abdomen. It was embarrassing for you because you'd called him out for not being able to get it up, here he was. In his late fifties, ready to fuck you dumb.

“Fuck you lookin’ at? Hop on.”

Your pussy throbbed. An insatiable ache that only his delicious cock could satisfy. You tossed one leg over his waist, while holding his cock with your hand. Aligning it at your hole, you finally sunk down on it. Duncan and you groaned in unison.

Feeling his cock enter you was such an indecipherable feeling. He filled you all the way, his tip reaching your womb almost. You placed both your palms over his chest, running your nails into the grey and black hair on his chest. Your lips parted, eyes rolled as you fully consumed him.

“Such a hungry fuckin’ pussy you've got. Taking me all the way in.” Duncan raised his hand and smacked your ass. “Cmon, move now.”

You obliged — beginning to grind your hips. In a slow back and forth rhythm. Duncan’s head was thrown back, pressed into the headboard while both his hands settled at your hips. Helping you grind down on his cock. You didn't even want to move, that's how much you fucking relished in him filling you up but then he lifted you, slamming you back down on his cock.

“Yeah, just like that.” He growled when you started to slide up and down. Hopping like a damn bunny in heat, feeling his veiny thick cock rub at your sensitive walls. Your whines were loud and prominent through the room as you held tightly onto his broad shoulders.

Lips agape and hair wet from the shower, it made you appear ten times prettier than you were. Duncan’s cock only hardened more, if possible inside you. The tremor in your whole frame was slowly becoming known to him and he scoffed, a breathty grunt leaving his lips. “Can't even fuck yourself on my cock and you have the audacity to speak to me with disrespect.”

“I'm sorry,” came a whimper from you. Nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, dragging them down into tiny slits.

Duncan helped you ride him, both his hands tugging at the flesh of your rear. He drove himself into you, in and out, in a fast rhythm. It was all too hot. Your body felt like it was boiling up and Duncan’s hands moved up to hold your breasts, thumbs flicking the nipples.

Dark brows furrowed and lips fallen apart, he let out aggressive grunts like some hounddog that couldn't have enough of you. “Pathetic whore. Jus’ a pathetic little whore who needed to be fucked. If—fuck,” he grunted, balls throbbing. “If you craved a cock this badly, you could've said so.”

Your eyes squeezed shut and walls gripped him like a vice. Duncan leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder, teeth digging into the skin hard enough to draw blood. He continued making you ride him, loving the way your tits bounced in his hands. A feeling driving him delirious.

The sound of skin against skin grew.

A languorous heat spread in your lower stomach. An indicator of your upcoming orgasm. Duncan’s hands kept playing with your soft mounds — his teeth littering bite marks at where your neck and shoulder became one and the way his hammered his cock inside your cunt was enough to push you over the edge.

Your arms flew to his shoulders, holding him tightly. “Duncan, ‘m gonna cum. ‘m so close, please.”

He looked up at you, loving the warmth you produced when you'd clung onto him like a koala to a tree. He pressed his lips over yours, something he himself was in shock at. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, sucking on it and as the kiss warmed, so did your cunt.

Duncan groaned as you slammed down on his cock repeatedly. A strong and soul chilling orgasm tearing through you. Eyes rolling back to your head and whimpers of sensitivity echoing in the room. He held you tightly as you came, enjoying how your little frame suffered from convulsions under his hold.

Duncan didn't give you a chance to even register your climax. He'd already began thrusting up your cunt, arms wrapped around your waist in a bone crushing hold. “Wait—wait! I still— oh my god.”

He didn't let you relax.

After all he too needed to cum.

Duncan could feel the throbbing sensation in his balls and the pulsating of his fat cock inside you. With a few, harsh strokes delivered inside your pussy, he released himself and your head buried in his neck from the feeling of being filled to the brim. His hot cum shot out, rope by rope, decorating the gummy walls of your pussy.

You could feel all of it.

Heightened sensitivity.

Your body went limp over his, leisurely dropping and Duncan held you. Both of you panted like wild animals who'd just got done finishing their preys. Your breathing was uneven and your throat was parched. Duncan heaved out, his low groans sending waves of sparks to your aching cunt again.

Thick fingers running up and down your bare back, with his other hand he caressed your hair. He wasn't rough when it came to sex but at times he felt like destroying your cunt whenever you'd speak to him in that stuck up, vicious little tone.

Duncan’s hand that played with your hair suddenly tightened, fingers pulling on the soft locks and you whimpered.

You were thrown off his lap on the bed. Appalled at his actions, you turned to look at him but Duncan only pressed your head further into the bed with his large hand. His other hand pulled your lower body, bending your knees.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You gasped out, the question coming out muffled.

Duncan let out a chuckle. “You thought we were done, hm? There ain't no way we're done with one round, little girl.”

You couldn't even resist as Duncan sunk his cock into you. Back arching and spine curving, a muffled whine of need and satisfaction echoing. He held you down as he thoroughly fucked you, his hips colliding with yours. Balls hitting the swollen stripe of your cunt.

“Look at you.” His bated breath increased your libido, as you were also speechless at his. Duncan was still ready to go on meanwhile you were struggling with staying still. Tired and drained from all his harsh strokes.

His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you up to his chest, locking you firmly. Duncan pulled out then pushed right back into you, his tip reaching your womb. A small bulge forming on your stomach everytime he slammed back into you. Tears of overstimulation dropped like pearls on your face and Duncan moaned in your ear.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He praised.

Your walls clenched.

Duncan hissed and felt his strokes become steady, dragging across your spongy walls to feel them. Then he climaxed inside you, filling you up again once more. This time his cum dripped out of you, making a mess on his own cock and your thighs. Pussy glistening from the slick, cum and your own climax.

Duncan pulled out and pushed you back down on the bed.

He also collapsed next to you.

Chest rising up and down, breath a broken rhythm. You sniffled into the pillows, thighs shivering the overstimulation you'd suffered at the hands of Duncan. He wasn't as cruel as you'd depicted him to be. Duncan reached for you, pulling you closer to him and wrapping an arm around your waist.

His large arm covering the expanse of your chest.

“Sorry, little girl. You piss me off a lot.” He whispered and you flipped to face him, burying your face in his chest. “And I'll continue to piss you off.”

Despite the fact that he'd pretty much blown your back out twice, you still held on to your defiant traits. He let out a laugh, reaching over to grab a cigarette and light it up.

Dragging in a smoke, he brought the cigarette to your lips and your parted them, allowing him to settle it between them. You pursued his actions and released the smoke through your nostrils.

“That feels good.”

Duncan smiled. “Better than my cock?”

“Oh shut up.”

[catcake24]

Oh god, I just had a brilliant TFOne KO/BD fic idea.

So you know how G1 Knockout is a construction worker and G1 Breakdown is a racer?? Well, in TFOne we see Breakdown is one of the racers in the Iacon 5000 (I don’t have the screenshot, but I do remember seeing his name along with the other Stunticons).

So… what if Knockout in TFOne is one of the many cogless miners???

So, here’s my idea (spoilers below):

Knockout is one of the few on-site medics for the miners, there for work related injuries (like Jazz’s leg in the movie). He’s not a worker because he has a processor bug, where he faints whenever he gets overwhelmed or too excited - which wouldn’t be a good trait for working in the dangerous mines.

Because of this relatively safer position, he tends to be cleaner and shinier than his fellow workers - cleaning and buffing his plating during work hours. He’s not the most well liked, but he’s good enough at his job that people just deal with it.

Knockout is a racer fan, and wishes he could compete in them very badly. Like many miners (at least in my fanfic), he feels like a piece of him is missing and would love to race if he could transform. He’s much like his TFP version in personality, sassy mean girl personality, maybe a bit nicer since he’s younger and already treated like shit.

Breakdown meanwhile, he’s a somewhat cocky racer who’s been apart of the Stunticons (who are basically just brothers who are all racers) since he was born. Due to being a transforming mech though, he hasn’t had much contact with cogless bots.

This changes when the Stunticons decide to go drag racing in a cogless residential area, a somewhat common thing since the roads are clear of other cars and the locals can see some drag racing without needing to get time off work. Knockout is one of these spectators, though only because he had a rough shift and needed something to blow off steam.

During the race though, there’s a crash and Breakdown needs medical attention - and the closest medic is Knockout.

Knockout ends up repairing Breakdown, who was curious about meeting a cogless bot, and from there it’s pretty typical KOBD I imagine. Breakdown might be more cocky here, but Knockout can match it easily and sass him for overworking his engine during the race Breakdown likes a mech who can talk down to him, and ends up flirting with KO… who faints from surprise and excitement.

Idk where to go from here, but I really like the idea of this being a bit of a roleswap au for the typical TFP KOBD and to mimic the “lower and higher class romance” stuff we see in tfp megop. I feel like these two would totally carry on a star crossed romance, meeting in semi-secret and Breakdown learning about KO’s life as a cogless bot and taking him on dates to places he could never access before.

BUT!!! After the events of the movie, Breakdown sees it all go down from the broadcast and rushes to see if KO is okay. He hasn’t seen him in awhile since all the miners were suddenly pulling mandatory extra shifts and injuries had increased exponentially. He bumps into a red racer on the way, trying to squeeze past, but then realized it’s Knockout who now has a t-cog. He came looking for Breakdown to show him.

Breakdown happily lifts up KO, who narrowly avoids fainting this time, and they go on their first racing date - and Breakdown is only more smitten when Knockout narrowly beats him.

(Please feel free to use or expand on this, i haven’t written knockout before so I would love some input on how he would act lol)

[bonefall]

how much of Stormpaw’s demon are Maple’s curse vs just things that happen (cause in canon it’s really vague about whether Maple causes all those tragedies or has the ability to see his future for some reason)

EVERYTHING that happens in Stormpaw's Demon involves her. It's not being so dramatically renamed for nothing, she's a major driver and cause of the plot! Crookedstar's young name is in the title; but really, his demon is driving the misfortune.

That said... It's been a while and I'm heavily considering retooling the narrative.

Since I last REALLY worked on it, BB has changed in the sense that I'm a lot more willing to alter canon than I used to be. While my driving mindset used to be "telling a better version of the original story," and that IS a value I still hold... I've lost patience with the misogyny within the original work.

I've spoken at length about the way Crookedstar's Promise grinds my gears (PLEASE follow this link for a full breakdown of why), but in summary; it desperately tries to keep every male character likeable when they shouldn't be, saying nothing about the fact they are complicit in or even enabling abuse, while giving Crookedstar TWO flatly evil maternal figures. Even Brambleberry, who's heavily praised for being "like a mom instead," has a weird moment where she starts giving Crookedjaw the cold shoulder because she finds out he's chatting with a demon.

So like... I'm not sure if I want to make the "better version" of that story. That was the one that I already had, which had Mapleshade be acting entirely out of just the malice of wanting to hurt a child, while Hailstar and Shellheart are the excellent people canon wanted to see them as.

(not that it's even a BAD super edition, it's actually a really good one, but if it's my kitchen that's not what we cook here. Man I really do always massively overhaul my favorite SEs LMAO)

I think, specifically, I want to make Mapleshade slightly more morally gray and Hailstar more of an enabler. Shellheart is getting significantly retooled to make him more of the heartwarming parental figure I think he should be; someone loving to help balance out a very heavy rework.

And of course Brambleberry, I'm going to tweak her some. Try to make her flaws more consistent, get rid of that odd cold shoulder moment.

Old regulars will remember an old AU which is also still a massive favorite of mine; it was called Better Call Mapleshade, and it was kind of a commentary on how an environment can shape a person. Mapleshade, as a demon in heaven, was essentially their best prosecutor and defense attorney.

You can actually see how a lot of ideas from that AU ended up in Better Bones with the expanded trial system! I'm thinking of taking another page out of it, by making Mapleshade more aware of "the game" of Clan culture's structural unfairness, while also using it like a weapon against people she wants to hurt. A powerful demon of revenge.

Under the cut, what won't be changing, the way it was, and Draft 2 of Stormpaw's Demon.

(MASSIVE CONTENT WARNING FOR MENTAL AND PHYSICAL CHILD ABUSE including ableism. BB!Rainflower is WORSE than canon.)

WHAT WON'T BE CHANGING;

These are major details of Stormpaw's Demon that are different from canon. I'm working with these as givens and won't be changing between drafts.

Mapleshade does have a bone to pick with Appledusk's lineage specifically. One option might make her more discerning when it comes to her targets, but no matter what, she is going to have her eyes on this bloodline. She Haunts Applekin.

Rainflower is Hailstar's deputy. And I will make her downfall spectacular. If you were worried I was going to make her more sympathetic then you have no idea who I am LMAO

Shellheart is not Crookedstar's biofather While I want Hailstar to maybe be worse; I do want to fix Shellheart by making him a good parent. I've decided a good way to do this is to make it that Shellheart adopts Storm AFTER he's been abused by Rainflower. He didn't have authority over him before then. In general, I do want him to have a bigger positive role in this narrative. DEPENDING ON WHICH VERSION: Oakheart might also not be his bio-brother.

Crookedjaw is not a cruel name; it's an Honor Title. I've ALWAYS been frustrated by how canon treats scars and injuries as bad things. It's a BATTLE culture. Surviving brushes with death is their WHOLE THING. There is no "crookedkit" or "crookedpaw," he was Stormpaw until he earned his warrior name, with "Crookedjaw" commending the massive lengths he's gone to in order to survive, adapt, and honor StarClan.

Mentor change: Goodbye Cedarpelt, hello Magpiesky! I decided to repurpose one of the Barn Cats! Magpie from the books is a daughter of Perchshine-- the cat who killed Mapleshade. She joined RiverClan long ago. She's actually the one who points him in the way of the barn, and has to train him "as a punishment for teaching him disobedience" when he comes back. I actually have a couple of minor reasons for making this change but I'll spare them for now. He might start with Cedarpelt, but then run to the barn when Cedarpelt is basically refusing to train him properly.

Some family tree shuffles I need to update this tree to show Crookedstar's new situation with Shellheart (and also reflect some other changes I made like confirming Hallowflight fully being Lizardtail's honor title and Robinpaw being the apprentice who gets eaten by Ripwater), BUT, overall this tree is solid.

The ableism Storm faces is going to have a different flavor I have built BB in a way where him surviving his injury would be very respected, but he'd get badly coddled and pushed into early retirement. Him running to the barn is because he suspects he wouldn't have gotten training otherwise.

He kills a fox there because it's Cool. I might give him the tail to wear as a trophy of the kill because that's also Cool. The fox was very old and feeble at that point, which was why it was attacking chickens, but shhh

The Way It Was (Very Evil Mapleshade)

Darkstar's Commandment creating the Queen's Rights, that no queen would ever have to reveal the other parent of their kittens, wasn't enough to appease Mapleshade.

Nor was the damning of everyone that Mapleshade killed. In a fit of irrational fury at all the death, StarClan sent all her victims into the Dark Forest.

But she can't chase them. In the Dark Forest, you don't see someone unless you WANT to see them, not unless you're hanging out in a "land mar" (a sort of personal hell that all demons get).

on the off-chance she does see them, Frecklewish usually rips her to shreds...

Which is the next problem.

You can't DIE in the Dark Forest if you're a demon. You poof back into existence the next day, no injuries, no scars, nothing.

she's bored.

And vengeful. In spite of the wrong being righted, she still thinks she deserves MORE revenge, because what she wanted was really Appledusk.

She finds it unfair that HER legacy is snuffed out, that it's Darkstar's Commandment and not hers, that her babies were destined for greatness and by extension SHE should have been great.

So she takes up a hobby in tormenting Appledusk's descendants. She wants to eradicate them completely, but is spiteful enough that she'll just settle with hurting them.

The first one she managed to kill was Applefrost, Reedshine's son. Just by accident. She didn't know she had such power over the mortal plane.

After that, she managed to drown Duskwater. The daughter.

But she couldn't wipe out HER daughter in that storm... and she brought two more Applekin children into the world.

Stormkit and Oakkit.

So, naturally, Mapleshade turned her sight on the little fuzzball.

He would be an easy kill, in theory. She smashed Stormkit's jaw on the rock, but Oakkit pulled him out.

From there, it's similar to canon for a bit. His recovery is long and painful.

Rainflower is disgusted, and wants absolutely no part of helping him through this process.

That wasn't an injury gained in battle-- it's because he's careless and didn't listen to her. He's going through all this suffering, and for what?

To never become a warrior?

She's cruel to him, begins to neglect and distance herself from him. Discourages him from suckling.

Mapleshade LOVES this. It's worse than she could have imagined. Rainflower is horrible.

Gleefully, she realizes that Stormkit dying now is what Rainflower wants.

So, she kills two other kits in the nursery.

Fallowtail's only survivor is Willowkit, so she has plenty of milk. She starts suckling Stormkit.

(Graypool is now an older sibling! She's actually an apprentice at this time! Later, she encourages Willowkit to visit their father, who decides to just kidnap them completely)

Eventually, being the deputy, Rainflower had some kind of conversation with Hailstar.

During that conversation, she asked him to do something very cruel to Crookedkit.

And Hailstar LOST IT

He's the successor of Volestar, who was appointed by Darkstar herself to uphold the Queen's Rights and protect children.

How DARE you try to turn RiverClan into a place of disrespect?? To use my power this way?!

So, her power was stripped, and Oakkit and Stormkit were taken from her.

From there, Storm eventually goes to the barn as discussed, and Mapleshade continues to do things to hurt him.

This was my first draft, and now having thought about it a lot, I feel like it's not super cohesive. A demonic Mapleshade who's entirely malicious is neat, but I feel like this makes her flat. Shellheart's not tied in super well either, and Hailstar's stand feels kind of hollow because Rainflower hasn't actually used or leveraged the new authority I've given her.

But most egregiously? Rainflower's abuse being so close to canon tastes kind of bland. I feel like I can make it sooo much more intense, complicated, and painful.

Draft 2 of Stormpaw's Demon (Demon of Revenge Update) Essentially an outline for the first few chapters establishing Mapleshade by dealing with Rainflower and then fragments for the rest.

Mapleshade's still malicious, but this time, there's more to it.

Darkstar's Commandment, and the damning of her victims, DID appease this Mapleshade.

But is she satisfied? No.

She doesn't feel like she was wrong at all, actually. Without her killing those three in revenge for her kittens, StarClan's anger probably would have subsided.

She can't hunt her victims down again though, because, they don't want to see her. She fights Frecklewish every now and then but what's the point?

She WON already. She already GOT the euphoria of dragging them all down with her.

Punishing everyone who had ever wronged her was the highlight of her existence... but now it's done.

She's in Hell and she's bored. Her punishment is never seeing her kits again, but more importantly, her punishment is eternal shuffling through the leaf litter when she's SO GOOD at getting revenge.

Problem with revenge is, when you get it, it's gone.

She probably messed with Duskwater and Applefrost a bit, but if she killed one of them, it was accidental. It made her realize that revenge without a motive is just boring.

The prologue would probably open up with establishing her as a character. Who she is, what she wants.

Because the first chapter would dive RIGHT IN to Stormkit. The only child of Rainflower, the deputy.

Right along with Stormkit, you only learn in hindsight that he was born in a storm that killed his grandmother. It's clear that Rainflower reminds him of this often.

And that she's nasty to him. Giving him unclear instruction and finding things to critique, telling him to jump and then barking at him that he didn't ask how high.

She has great expectations for him, and reminds him of their family lineage often. Of who killed his great-grandfather, of what a fantastic pair of warriors Applefrost and Duskwater were

"I lost everything the night you were born. You'd better be able to make up for it."

Unfortunately, Stormkit is not the sort of child who's good at listening to those sorts of orders. He's stubborn and defiant; angry and oppositional.

When he doesn't understand why you do something, he doesn't want to do it

He "embarrasses" her a lot, and gets hurt for it.

In public, these are swats and whacks. The things you're "allowed" to do to discipline your child. In private these are a lot more severe.

So when Stormkit is given an order or a command, he obeys completely out of fear rather than respect. And sometimes he forgets his fear.

The other cats in RiverClan? Well... Stormkit is a problem child, and Rainflower is a fantastic, organized, respected deputy.

Hailstar especially, unfortunately. He feels bad... for Rainflower.

"It must be so hard for her to have such a little brat as a son. He never seems to learn his lesson. When will he stop wandering off? What's wrong with him? He certainly didn't get that from her."

His best friend, Oakkit, gets in the SAME trouble he does.

He's mischievous, fearless, and outgoing, and... never gets punished for it.

There's times where Oakkit does something and Stormkit physically recoils, just imagining what Rainflower would do if HE did something like that. Especially in how Oakkit talks to his dad, Shellheart.

For example, Shellheart will come to get his son for suckling time and Oakkit will tell him to his face things like, "I don't want to! I'm HAVING FUN!"

and shellheart doesn't flip out. He just. explains why it's important to eat on time.

"I know. But Fallowtail wants to go have fun too! She's waiting for you to come and suckle so she can go play."

"Well why can't she just play now and I suckle later?"

"When a suckler is full of milk, it makes their belly very itchy. She's uncomfortable when you don't come and eat on time."

"nnnh"

"Tough sell? How about I sweeten the pile with a badger ride back?"

"Hm. You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Dad."

Stormkit doesn't know why he hates it. He's all angry inside when he sees them acting friendly. He's polite because Oakkit's his best friend and Mr. Shellheart is really nice, but he just...

He's too young at the time to know he's envious. He wants what Oakkit has so badly it hurts.

Sometime after an exchange like that, Stormkit is visited by Mapleshade for the first time.

And they talk about Stormkit's anger and resentment. Stormkit lets it slip that he HATES his Mi.

Waits for Mapleshade to stop him and tell him, like everyone else does, that "she's still your mother."

...but she doesn't.

Besides Oakkit and Shellheart, she's the first person who doesn't tell him that.

She just lets him talk. Lets him go on. Starts making nasty jabs, which make him laugh.

"She says she lost everything the day I was born!!"

"What?! That's crazy! She got you that day!"

"Right?! It's like she's saying I'm nothing! Maybe she SHOULD lose everything, then she'd know what she's got!"

And then she asks, "Do you want her to die?"

Suddenly, there's a chill in the air. He's really shocked by the suggestion of that. He didn't... he didn't mean it to go THAT far. That's not what he meant... is it?

But she's fading back into the shadows, just her eyes visible in the dark. Tells him that she can see he's unsure. That's ok.

Holds up a budding sprig of sycamore, the maple she's named for. Its buds grow in a "deer hoof," with one large bud in the middle and two "toes" sprouting on its sides.

Teaches him that if he needs someone in his corner, all he has to do is call.

(to summon her, a bud is plucked off the sprig and thrown in the river.)

He wakes up with the sprig in his paw, panics, and shoves it under the nest he shares with his mother.

The experience shakes him. He probably ran to Brambleberry for the first time, who explains very seriously that he was contacted by a demon.

From the description... Mapleshade. The cat who killed his great-grandfather.

He BEGS her not to tell Rainflower. PLEADS with her. He can barely hear her already saying yes under the throbbing sound of his heart in his ears.

When he calms down, he hears her saying yes. On the condition she will need to smoke the nursery with sage and cedar, and that he will be needing a bath as well.

When he's still concerned that Rainflower will question him, she makes a plan to distract her for a day, long enough for him to do his cleanse and the smell to fade.

And, of course, that he will not follow any instructions that Mapleshade left him. He agrees. But does not tell Brambleberry about the sprig.

For a while he's very "well behaved." But it's not about him, never has been.

It really doesn't take long at all for Rainflower to get worse. Kids who are defiant like that are usually exercising a defense mechanism-- if they're not aggressive about their boundaries, their limits are pushed to a breaking point.

And after a big blowout like this, which was probably a public spectacle, Stormkit runs back to his nest and digs out the sprig, runs to the river, and throws a bud in the river.

Having calmed down from his shuddering fury, the dread begins to set in as a dead-smelling wind ruffles his fur. He can't help but feel like he just did something very stupid out of anger.

Looking at his reflection, he sees no cuts or swelling. The blows weren't "bad enough." He doesn't have the kind of injuries that anyone would do anything about. Equal parts guilt and frustration swell in him like a tide at full moon. How could he be sitting here wishing she hurt him worse?

So he tries to soften it, "I don't want her to die, I just, I... I just want her to lose everything like she says. Please..."

The wind whispers in his ear, "it will get worse before it gets better."

"I can handle that," he sobs, "I can do anything. Please. Make it stop."

After that, Oakkit probably runs to come find him. Stormkit doesn't want to be found. He makes up a childish plan, on the spot, to run away and join ThunderClan.

Oak says that's mousebrained, but Storm has DEVOTED himself to this plan he made just now.

And is crossing the stones.

Oak sighs, but if Storm's going to ThunderClan, he should really go with him because then they could totally fight off a small fox (Childish hubris)

Unfortunately, Rainflower found them. asks Exactly What He's Doing.

The kids freeze. Stormkit in particular has that horrible, twisting anxiety that you get when you hear The Tone that means you're in for an absolute wallop when you get home.

He's about to start running, but then the voice tickles his ear-fur again. Mapleshade tells him to go back. It'll be ok. She's on his side. She'll make her pay.

Oakkit is still frozen in place when, as if possessed, Storm's body stiffly returns to his mother.

There's a silence. The river trickling through the stepping stones. Storm looking with fear and anger up at her.

She's waiting for an apology, groveling. He doesn't give her one.

So she raises her paw and gives him an awful, hard blow.

His little body twists, flung off balance, trying to correct himself, and he can swear he felt paws pushing him a second time, whipping him downwards.

The feeling of falling fills his stomach, the water sloshes into his ears before there's a ring of a sound like CLUNK-CRUNCH, and then the river floods his nose and mouth.

It all goes dark.

When he wakes up, it's with a throbbing pain in the side of his jaw so intense that he can feel it all the way down in the tip of his tail. He learns from Brambleberry that Oakkit rescued him-- jumped right into the water to pull him out. And then Rainflower pulled him out. That was when Shellheart came and found them.

There's a LOT of arguing outside, but Storm can't ask what it is because it hurts to move his mouth at all. Brambleberry hushes and soothes him, telling him it's nothing he needs to know about.

(MEDICAL INFODUMPING: i do actually have a medical reason I want his injury to come from someone hitting him which causes him to fall. The injury he'd get in canon would actually be a really simple and common split in the front of the mandible, which wouldn't cause his mouth to have a dramatic twist and would heal very easily. He needs to come down on the rock at an angle to shatter the joint like that.)

From here, the tune about Stormkit starts to change.

Oakkit was distraught when they got back, telling everyone that Rainflower smashed him against a rock.

Rainflower's story is that he was running, and she chased after him. EVERYONE knows that he has a habit of doing this.

Then HE slipped and fell and hit his face on the rocks. His fault.

Oakkit was running away with him, he's lying.

Shellheart is FEROCIOUSLY taking the side of his son, furious that she would imply he raised a liar.

Hailstar is taking the side of Rainflower. It's two troublemaking kits against his deputy.

Yes, Rainflower's disciplined him before, but that's no indication she'd do something like this on purpose.

Brambleberry weighs in that the injury that Stormkit has isn't the sort of injury a kitten gets from hitting his jaw. The bone is shattered.

probably does some kind of visual to go along with it, using a stick and a stone

"The bones of a kitten are like the young shoots of a tree. When they fracture," she takes a young twig and snaps it in her paws. The fibers in the center are bent but unbroken, with the bark splintered around them, "they flay but don't snap."

She places the stick on the ground, "So for the injury that Stormkit has," and violently smashes the rock down onto it. It's shattered and pulped, the fibers flattened, "there would need to be a great force."

Shellheart hisses, saying that THIS is the evidence. Oakkit's story is consistent but Rainflower HAS to have lied.

Several cats are now on his side.

...But more are on Rainflower's.

"She's his mother. She loves him. Oakkit has to be mistaken."

"Why would she chase down her own son just to smash his face on a stone?"

"She wouldn't pull them out of the river if she really wanted to hurt him!"

Hailstar prompts if there's ANYTHING else that could explain this?

It comes up that Brambleberry cleansed the dens the other day.

She says that it's possible there is a demon's influence at work. She can't know for sure which one it is-- but it may have a grudge against Rainflower.

She allows them to reach the conclusion that it's probably Mapleshade on their own. She will be talking to Crookedkit when he's able, but she's not about to tell anyone about his dream yet.

She doesn't want him to have the extra scrutiny when he needs to rest and heal, but if she'd shared that an unnamed cat had a demonic dream, it would set off panic as cats accused each other of dark magic.

Rainflower manages to escape consequences by pointing out that it was likely Mapleshade that injured her son.

Oakkit is still trying to tell everyone SHE did it, he SAW it, Stormkit walked back and she hit him and smashed his jaw on the rock

But he's hushed. It's decided there's not enough evidence. And not enough reason to doubt the noble deputy.

She's never done something like this before, after all. It's more likely it was an accident.

There is a group of cats that are dissatisfied about this, though, and it only grows when Brambleberry explains that Stormkit's prognosis is not good.

There is a very high chance he will die. Even adult warriors can wither slowly from this sort of injury.

Recovery will be slow and it will be painful.

...but after that incident? Rainflower gets bolder. She got away with it in public. She got a taste of the leverage she has, how much they trust her.

Stormkit spends a lot of time floating in between his dreams and his living-world pain. There's at least one interaction where he speaks to Mapleshade, screaming at her that he TRUSTED her, he KNOWS she's the one who hurt him! How could she?!

She can't say much, kept at bay by a hazy smokescreen of sage. "You must live! You must survive!"

Her old words echo in his head; It Will Get Worse Before It Gets Better.

Throughout the recovery, Rainflower grows more cruel and more distant.

In public she likes to talk about how difficult this is for her, but he's strong, he will survive.

In private, she'll do things that hurt him, like repositioning his head in a way that "his jaw will heal better in." When he cries, she's unsympathetic.

"You brought this on yourself. This is for your own good."

Her definition of "private" is also changing. She's getting more comfortable with snapping at him in front of limited groups of people.

Since she's deputy, the other two parents in the nursery, Shellheart and Fallowtail, do their best to care for Stormkit while she's away. He's pulled away from them when she gets back, any ideas or suggestions they have vetoed.

When they try to go to Brambleberry about this, she shakes her head with frustration and tries to make them understand she knows... and she's just as unhappy with it as they are.

She tells them she keeps going to Hailstar, but he's still hesitant. Even though she's trying to tell him that Stormkit's recovery is being undermined.

"Rainflower's son has always needed tough love. She's his Mi and knows him best... she's still taking care of him. Give her a warning before suggesting anything drastic."

In the other draft, I had Mapleshade kill two of Fallowtail's kits to free up milk for Stormkit. I'm not sure I need that anymore honestly, plus, this rework's heavy enough! She can just have Willowkit without any deaths, while Graypaw remains an older sibling.

When Brambleberry informs Rainflower and Stormkit that the jaw isn't healing straight and it will probably be at an angle forever, Rainflower reacts with disdain.

"His first scar and it's nothing he earned?!"

She's reminded he might not even survive. He's lost weight. He's eating less. Stormkit curls up quietly. He hates how they talk about him like he can't hear them.

"Surviving is the bare minimum," she scoffs reflexively. There's a silence so thick you can cut it with a claw. After an uncomfortable heartbeat, she continues, "What kind of a life will he live if he-"

"a life," Brambleberry cuts in, "he'd live a life. And it can be a good one"

Rainflower growls, spitting that the twisted jaw is a disfigurement. He'll never be able to open his mouth all the way. He can't chew and he can't suckle forever. Stormkit will never become a warrior if he can't even dispatch a fish with a killing bite.

"Scars are the sign that StarClan has mended our bodies after fighting a good fight, making any Clanborn cat worthy of being an elder" Brambleberry preaches, "Names are what mark us, calling upon our ancestors to look down at us and witness our actions, Rainflower. Don't say anything you wouldn't want them to see."

Rainflower flicks her ear, seething, a rumble in her throat, "was that some kind of threat? As if I've said something wrong?"

"If you feel threatened, look within."

Stormkit resents all of this talk. He can feel his mother tensing up next to him, hears the low rumble progressing into a growl. When adults play stupid games with his mom, he's always the one who ends up dealing it. Why don't they get that?

It's only Shellheart who seems to have it click, "Hey, this is the nursery. Can you take it outside, please?"

As Brambleberry and Rainflower leave, Stormkit lays curled up in his nest, cold and alone. Oakkit leaves Shellheart's paws to curl up around his best friend.

Shellheart stares at them, shifting, but ultimately stays where he is.

There's a lot of words I could write there, between Storm and Oak. Ones where Storm speaks about how he just wants the pain to be done with. Others where Oak comforts him, tells him how much he means to him. More where they end up running into the wall that they're just two little kids and they've both learned the truth that they have no control over what happens when Rainflower comes back into that den.

But I think it would be good to end there, at the lowest point. Because it gets better.

Pissed off by being gently confronted, after her warning from Brambleberry, this is the moment where Rainflower goes too far.

Hailstar is gradually losing his patience. Every time this issue comes up, he's making some kind of new excuse for her.

She's still a competent deputy who holds the Clan together, but this has taken a toll on her reputation.

Her biggest mistake was becoming more open with her abuse after being emboldened. And I think Hailstar is beginning to feel like he's got "egg on his face."

After standing up for Rainflower several times, getting heat from Brambleberry, and now the Clan also starting to murmur...

It's getting very difficult to justify why he's sticking his neck out.

and maybe, part of him is starting to feel a little self-conscious about the way that his deputy is acting about her injured child.

When she comes storming up on this fateful day, interrupting whatever he was doing to make a proposition, it's the breaking point.

Her suggestion: "I've realized that there's only one way to ensure my son survives his injury. He's being haunted by our demon, which only started threatening him when he disobeyed me for the last time. WE need to teach him a lesson, and make sure StarClan gazes down upon him to acknowledge his mistakes."

"...how do you intend to do that?"

"Stormkit must be given a Dishonor Title."

A Dishonor Title, one of the greatest shames that a leader can put onto one of their warriors. A punishment that ranks just below exile in terms of severity.

"you want to put a dishonor title... on your child? one with a life-threatening injury?"

"One that acknowledges his carelessness. To protect him from the demon."

Protect him from the demon. "I see now what must be done."

Previously, I'd thought of Hailstar as someone who would be loud and merciless when he does this. Now I'm thinking it was something he put a lot of thought into. He stands up, brushes past her, and goes to talk to some of his most trusted cats. Brambleberry, his mate Echomist, an experienced warrior such as Piketooth or Ottersplash, and lastly, Shellheart.

So it's not a surprise to anyone but Rainflower herself. He doesn't want this to be dramatic. He doesn't want it to be another big scene. Stormkit has gone through enough.

When he eventually has this Clan meeting, he calls it quietly. In his address to the gathered cats, a crowd that Shellheart and his family are missing from at his request, he says that his greatest regret is that he didn't do this sooner. He even doubts that Mapleshade is haunting her at all-- now having seen her behavior, he says it's more likely that Rainflower bashed her own child against a rock and simply lied.

First, he announces that Stormkit will be removed from her care. He will no longer be of the Applekin bloodline.

She is banned from the nursery at the request of Fallowtail, and will only see Stormkit when supervised by his new Mi, Shellheart.

Brambleberry has already agreed to this necessity, and is performing a ritual so that StarClan may approve of this choice.

He also strips her of her deputyship, and appoints Ottersplash instead. (I might change this to a different deputy eventually)

Not everyone agrees with Hailstar. There's an uproar from Rainflower's supporters.

She was a VERY popular deputy.

More that are just uneasy, feeling that this was a BRUTAL punishment that she didn't deserve.

Lots are happy and optimistic, though. But the mixed reception is exactly why Hailstar asked Shellheart not to be here.

This isn't something Stormkit has to deal with right now.

When Darkstar herself, who created the Queen's Rights, was on her last life, she appointed Volestar to uphold the law as her legacy knowing that Oakstar might try to break it again.

Volestar appointed Hailstar, in the hopes that he would uphold her legacy in turn, to protect kittens and those who can't protect themselves.

He was late, and can only hope he was not too late. He hopes that Volestar can forgive him for that.

Meanwhile in the nursery, Shellheart, Oakkit, and Stormkit are alone, far in the back, where the padded moss keeps out arguing voices.

Oakkit, bless his little heart, is babbling with excitement because his best friend is his BROTHER now. And it's gonna be THE BEST.

He's talking about how it's fine he can't chew because now they can have soup, and they're going to make the nest bigger, and they can stay up later because they can whisper quieter if they're this close together

But Storm doesn't really hear him. His head's swimming, thinking about the dull ache in his jaw, how MAD his mom's going to be because he can't imagine her not finding a way to hurt him, how this is all his fault because he called Mapleshade.

He can't stop it anymore and starts sniffling, which turns into weeping. Still, he's TRYING not to bawl, knowing, knowing he looks stupid when he does that

Shellheart just pulls him in close, so he can bury his face in his fluffy chest. Tells him it's going to be ok. He's safe now. No one can hurt him there.

Not on his watch.

Unfortunately, it's not the last he sees of Mapleshade. After this...

Mapleshade shows him everything she did for him. Yes, she did smash his jaw-- but it was to get him away from his mother.

And she planted an idea here and there, just little whispers into Rainflower's ear. Nothing she wouldn't do all on her own.

And now... Mapleshade believes she's earned some respect.

Stormkit can't disagree... she did exactly what she told him she'd do.

And now that he's not Applekin anymore, they can be Real Friends. They could even strike up a partnership, of sorts. After all, what did StarClan do to help him?

It wasn't StarClan that answered his prayers.

I'm still figuring out what, exactly, she's going to want from him. I have a scintilla that she wants to give him a life, maybe as some kind of bridge to StarClan to see her kits?

Some strange "attempt" at redemption, perhaps? Which she ultimately doesn't get.

Not that she didn't enjoy doing all that for love of the game, mind you. She's very good at getting revenge and it's fun and exciting to pull it off.

But hey, if you're good at something, never do it for free.

What causes Mapleshade to ultimately turn, and begin haunting the bloodline again + Oakheart, is Crookedstar rejecting her in some way.

She comes to collect on her end of the bargain and he refuses, breaking their partnership. He chooses StarClan.

And then from there, it's ON again. Now she has another EXCUSE to do what she wanted to do, and take out her boredom and malice on his family.

This time, it includes Oakheart as well-- because he was Crookedstar's brother.

It was also her curse that harmed Willowbreeze and eventually Silverstream. She's on the warpath.

Maybe she actually helped make him leader on purpose. Like he explicitly asked so she helped him by making the squirrel omen, instead of just doing it for him unprompted. Still figuring it out.

Shortly after the scene where Stormkit cries, he needs to have a confrontation with Brambleberry about Mapleshade I think. She needs to explain why Dark Forest demons are seen as bad.

She's biased, of course, but it's not like she's TOTALLY wrong either. Cats like Mapleshade ARE vengeful, in ways many other spirits are not.

If you're curious, Crookedstar's dishonor title from Rainflower would have been something comparing him to a parasite and referencing his ""accident"" like Fleaskip or Midgefall.

The point she's trying to make with the Dishonor Title is that her son is an annoying bug who didn't listen, as well as subtly erase she fact she knocked him off that rock.

She wanted his name to say "everything that happened was my fault and my mom did nothing wrong"

Not that Hailstar got as far as even asking lmao

[the-offside-rule]

The Leclerc Sister {Headcanons}

Idk I'm just bored and wanna do some headcanons but if you wanna ask for more headcanons for drivers just lmk

(GIF IS NOT MINE: @brasiliangp

Role of each brother

��� Lorenzo: Being the eldest, Lorenzo would be the responsible and wise older brother, offering guidance and a calm presence. Lorenzo, being the eldest, would naturally assume a guiding role. He'd often help you with important life decisions and be someone you can always turn to for serious advice. He would emphasize the importance of education and career planning. He’d help you with homework, discuss future plans, and encourage you to pursue your goals with diligence. While he might not be as overtly protective as Charles or Arthur, Lorenzo’s calm and steady presence would make you feel safe and secure. He'd quietly ensure everything in your life is running smoothly.

♡ You'd likely share some intellectual hobbies with Lorenzo, such as reading, discussing current events, or exploring cultural activities like museum visits or music concerts. Not to mention that whenever there’s a disagreement between siblings, Lorenzo would step in as the mediator, helping to resolve conflicts with a balanced and fair approach.

♡ Charles: Charles would be your confidant and biggest supporter, always making time for you despite his busy schedule. Charles’s dedication to his racing career would be a source of inspiration for you. He’d teach you the importance of following your passions with commitment and hard work. Despite his busy schedule, Charles would make time for adventurous outings with you, like spontaneous road trips, go-karting sessions, or even just exploring new hobbies together. If you have any interest in motorsports, Charles would be thrilled to share his knowledge and experience, perhaps even mentoring you if you decide to try racing yourself.

♡ He would be there for you during tough times, offering emotional support and a listening ear. His experiences in a high-pressure environment would provide valuable perspectives. Being Charles’s sister would bring some media attention. He’d help you navigate this with grace, teaching you how to handle public scrutiny and maintain your privacy.

♡ Arthur: Arthur, closer to your age, would be your partner in crime, sharing secrets, jokes, and adventures. However, there are often times that the two of you would bicker, leading to the pair of you to try outdo eachother on pranks as a form of Revenge. Arthur’s youthful energy and playful nature would make him a fun and lively sibling. He’d always have new activities or games to share, keeping life exciting. With Arthur, there’d be a sense of friendly rivalry. Whether it’s sports, video games, or academic achievements, he’d push you to be your best, always in a supportive way.

♡ Arthur would introduce you to his wide circle of friends, helping you expand your social network and feel included in various social activities. Arthur would encourage you to step out of your comfort zone and try new things, helping you build confidence in your abilities and interests. If you have any creative interests, like music, art, or writing, Arthur would be eager to collaborate and share ideas, fostering a creative partnership between you two.

♡ You'd have a close relationship with Pascale, your mother, who would be a strong support system and a source of wisdom and comfort. She would help you navigate the complexities of life in the spotlight, as well as a fair bit of telling off when needed. She's had three boys before you and knows how to handle bad moods and outbursts. She tries her best to keep you out of the spotlight and away from trouble, but Lorenzo often reminds her it's only a matter of time before people begin to try and look into her.

♡ Family dinners would be lively events, filled with laughter, storytelling, and delicious food. Each brother would bring their own stories and experiences, making these moments cherished and memorable.

♡ The dynamic between Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur would create a balanced household. Lorenzo's maturity, Charles’s passion, and Arthur’s energy would provide a well-rounded environment for you.

♡ Growing up with each of them would expose you to a variety of interests and activities, from intellectual pursuits with Lorenzo, motorsport adventures with Charles, to fun and creative endeavors with Arthur.

♡ Despite their different personalities and approaches, all three brothers would be united in their love and support for you, creating a strong family bond that you can always rely on.

[gatheredfates]

On the Topic of Plagiarism:

I decided to make my own post rather that co-oping @thefreelanceangel's because, despite having her full and enthusiastic permission to do so, what I'm talking about is somewhat adjacent to her point and entirely inspired BY the fact she tagged @riftdancing—particularly Blink—and I wanted to demonstrate examples of incidence were coincidence and consent do not immediately equate to plagiarism; it's ultimately about intent, and you do not need to tear yourself up on the inside if you find someone with a similar idea to yours, provided neither of you have gone out of your way to copy each other.

First, please meet the troops:

On the left is Miss Koret Swan. On the right is Miss Blink Vaniro. As I so delicately summed up:

It would be easy to surmise, based on this alone, that one of us copied the other person. However, both of these are old characters, written in a time and space where neither of us knew each other, and the similarities have always been a cause for laughter and playful teasing rather than competition and spite. I made Koret in WoW as a sister to a wolf and lamb concept, and Pepper made Blink as a character to an overarching D&D campaign set in a sci-fi universe.

What I'm trying to say is that, whilst plagiarism is absolutely a bad thing, as someone with anxiety over this sort of thing, you do not need a wholly 100% original idea in order to write and roleplay publicly, and many ideas share overt similarities to others that deviate the moment you peel back the veneer.

Koret and Blink are both 'pirates'. Koret is a privateer (said with all the sarcasm a privateer entails; a pirate with the proper papers) and Blink is a sky pirate. All of Kor's theming is around the ocean, particularly the deep ocean, and Blink's is all about the sky and the freedom it gives. But they both have wolf motifs. Kor has had a sister, Blink has had a brother.

What makes these characters different is the way that we explore them and how these broad ideas become niche based on the concepts we want to expand on as writers. What makes them different is that neither was written despite (or even in spite) of the other, nor did one of us look at the other and go 'oh, i want to do x with y because i think it'll be better'.

There are dozens of femme fatal concepts out there. There are heaps of bad-ass men. If I had a dollar for every knight character that was in xiv alone, I'd still be a rich woman. Hell, I know for a fact that my star-gazing viera is certainly not the first of her kind, nor will she be the last. I can coexist in spaces with people who have these similar concepts because I know there's enough deviation between those characters, as I have spent the time cultivating a niche story for mine where broad concepts are more set-dressing than the actual meat and potatoes of the character.

If you have the ick about someone copying you, especially if you have a negative history with them or the person is being weird, you're probably right on the money. I have had characters of mine blatantly ripped off for the former. But this is more for the reassurance of people who are like 'I don't want a pink-themed miqo'te because I know one already exists' or 'I don't want to play with a spore druid concept because I know one exists' (i'm using my own miqo'te here as an example, LMAO). You can have a primadonna, pink miqo'te who lives in Ishgard and is clawing her way to the tippy top of the high houses and I wouldn't stress because my primadonna, pink miqo'te is currently knee-deep in a bog because she heard she can find peat mummies there. They're not the same. They share similarities, but they're not the same.

Write it because you think it's fun. Not because you've seen x's concept be popular and you want a slice of it. Not because you want a ship similar to y's and you're going to gush about how much you love it and try to mosey in with a knock-off (no, this has never happened to me, what do you mean?). You're not going to have the same amount of fun!! It won't be the same!!

But also, at the same time, don't rob yourself of an opportunity to play with a concept because someone else is already doing it, especially if it's just a trope. People can tell the difference and they will embrace it if you're earnest.

You may even find someone like I found Pepper. We laughed at it. Then we made an AU and shipped them. They're kissing. They are stabbing. They are kissing and stabbing each other.

[wuwa-writing]

kinktober - day fifteen - marking

jiyan x reader, nsfw, minors dni. draconic instincts, possessiveness, talk of switching, light praise, gn reader

Jiyan is careful not to indulge it, but there's something possessive deep inside him. It was there before he became General, but it's only gotten stronger since then. What was once an urge has become an instinct, loud and insistent.

He's so, so glad you're more than happy to indulge him.

Gorgeous. His favorite thing in the world.

Tonight, he starts with your thighs. Not his usual go to, he normally likes to spend ages sucking marks along your neck and chest where you can't hide them, but tonight he needs more. Visible marks are good, wonderful even, but the ones that make you squirm and whine and beg for his mouth?

The way you squirm under him when he sinks in his teeth into the meat of your thighs is divine. He worries a bruise near the crease of your leg, ignoring how you whine and try to coax him into finally touching you.

He takes a moment to admire the mottled mess of red marks and bite marks covering your thighs, his slit pupils expanding and a raspy purr escaping his chest. He dips back down, pressing kisses up your stomach as he squeezes and soothes over the fat there.

"Look at you," he sighs, pressing his cheek against your chest. "You're always so pretty like this, and flushed and needy and mine."

His words make you whine and he can't resist turning his head and biting gently over your nipple. You cry out and he soaks in the sound, his tongue soothing over the bite before he moves to trail hickeys up your chest.

"You should mark me up later," he murmurs in your ear, nibbling your earlobe. "Mark up my chest and back so people can see. Maybe I'll make you leave scratch marks down my back."

The idea of you marking his tacet mark makes him moan against your neck, his cock twitching in his underwear. He manhandles you, pulling up your hips so he can grind against you.

He's not normally the type to flaunt his private life, or even talk about it in general, but oh, the idea of everyone knowing that you're all his. That he's yours.

It makes him dizzy with want.

He pulls back, looking you over with lidded eyes and eventually deciding that he can indulge you like you've indulged him. You're dripping when he gets his mouth on you, crying out his name as he sucks hard, wanting to make you come now.

You sob his name when you come and he wishes suddenly that people would know when he's made you come on his face, when he's come inside you. He wishes they could smell it, sense it, intuit it. Alas, they can't, so he has to stake his claim the old fashioned way.

By fucking you so hard into the mattress that your legs wobble when you walk tomorrow. With your legs weak and skin flushed and bruising with his bites, there won't be a single person who doesn't understand the implications.

[burningcheese-merchant]

BurningCheese/GoldenSpice Playlist

Ok, time to stop being a bitch and post the ship playlist I keep harping on about already.

Gonna mark each song with an emoji to signify if it's meant to either be Burning Spice's POV (🔺) or Golden Cheese's (🧀). It's also going to be band/singer name first, song name second, for ease of understanding

Thank you to everyone who's reached out to me, both on here and on AO3, with song suggestions! A good chunk of these came from me myself, but a lot of people introduced me to plenty more songs that I loved and agreed suited these two perfectly. It's been fun putting a playlist together with this help, it feels like a fun group project now lol. (Hell, you guys are actually helping me think of new writing material. Music is a huge source of inspiration and creativity for me, as I'm sure you've noticed. In a way, you're all indirectly making fic requests lol)

You're all still more than welcome to keep shooting me song ideas to add, the playlist is ever-expanding! I'll just come back to this post and edit any new additions in. (This playlist is 3x longer than my PitayaFire one. I need you all to understand how big of a deal that is for me personally. I never thought I'd be this down bad for a ship besides that one. It's fucking surreal)

Some of it is meant to sound one-sided, others like it's a mutual love/relationship. I'll let you guess which is which lol. Now rock out to Evil Spice Man x Pretty Cheese Lady with me 🤘🤘🤘

Mindless Self Indulgence - Shut Me Up🔺

Fall Out Boy - I Don't Care🔺(with the Wild Spice crew as the backup singers!!!)

Mariah Carey - Obsessed 🧀

Three Days Grace - I Hate Everything About You🔺🧀

Lady Gaga - Bad Romance🔺🧀

Dead or Alive - You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)🔺

Mindless Self Indulgence - What Do They Know?🔺

Britney Spears - Toxic 🧀

Fish in a Birdcage - Rule #34🔺(this is also a great PureShadow song ngl. It's how it was first introduced to me, even lol)

Shayfer James - Filthy Habit🔺

King Gnu - SPECIALZ🔺🧀 (look up the English version of the lyrics. Very BurningCheese-core imo)

Mindless Self Indulgence - This Hurts🔺

Jack Black - Peaches🔺(shout out to the anon in my inbox who suggested this. Joke's on them, I had this on the playlist right from the start lolololololol)

Arctic Monkeys - R U Mine?🔺

Lady Gaga - Poker Face 🧀

Olly Murs (feat. Flo Rida) - Troublemaker 🧀

Rihanna - Where Have You Been🔺(fun fact: I had this playing on a loop as I wrote "Our Little Dance" to get into the Yandere Spice mindset lol)

Lady Gaga - Judas 🧀

Miike Snow - Genghis Khan🔺

The Orion Experience - Obsessed With You🔺(this song is just really funny. You can probably apply it to all Beast x Ancient ships tbh)

Nine Inch Nails - Closer🔺

Mindless Self Indulgence - 5TR82HE11🔺

Air Traffic Controller - This Is Love🔺

Bad Omens - THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND🔺🧀

Isabel LaRosa - favorite 🧀

Bloodhound Gang - The Bad Touch🔺(listen I imagined Spice singing this to Golden and just started howling with laughter, it's fucking hysterical ok)

ENHYPEN - Bite Me🔺

Scissor Sisters - I Can't Decide🔺(GC would sing a few parts tho)

5 Seconds of Summer - Teeth🔺🧀 (mostly Spice though)

Buerak - Культ Тела 🔺(look up English lyrics, very Yandere Spice coded. Thank you to the anon who suggested it)

Tom Lehrer - The Masochism Tango🔺

Lady Gaga - Disease 🧀

G-Eazy (with Halsey) - Him & I🔺🧀

Britney Spears - ...Baby One More Time🔺(imagine Spice singing this while stuck in prison. Please. He's singing and the other Beasts want to off themselves because it's so annoying and he won't stop. Please it is so funny. I have so much fun imagining this freak acting stupid-)

[winchesterwild78]

The Tutor

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: Nothing too bad yet, just a chapter to establish the story. Some language and some physical grabbing.

**Trigger Warning: Some of this chapter could be considered Domestic Violence. It’s grabbing an arm, and being controlling.**

A/N: Just a quick idea that popped in my head. A short series, maybe 2 or 3 chapters. I don’t know yet. No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction. Jensen has children in this, but I do not use their real names. 

Reader is a teacher and is asked to tutor Jensen’s child. Things develop between Jensen and the reader. I do not condone cheating, again, this is a work of fiction.

This chapter got a little long. Sorry not sorry. 😀

Minors DNI 18+

It was about 5 am when your alarm went off. You rolled over, grumbled and turned it off. Your husband was still sleeping next to you. Crawling out of bed you went to your bathroom and jumped in the shower. 

About 15 minutes later you were dressed and ready for work. You’d been a teacher for about 10 years, and you loved every second of it. Your husband encouraged you to expand your talent and offer tutoring in the afternoons as a way to help save money for the summer months when you didn’t get paid. 

You talked to the principal of your school and she told you she’d put out feelers to see if anyone had a lead on a possible need for a tutor. 

Grabbing your coffee, lunch and bag you headed for your car. It was a chilly morning, but you welcomed the change in temperature. As you pulled in the parking lot to the school, you noticed you were one of the first ones there. 

You sighed, gathered your things and got out of your car. As you walked in the building you saw the principal was in her office already. “Hey, Y/N, hold on a second.” You walked to her office door and waited for her to get off the phone.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m glad I caught you. So I talked to a friend of mine and she said she knows a couple who is looking for a tutor for their children. They have 3 kids, an older daughter, and a set of twins, a boy and a girl. The mother is out of town, but the father wanted to come in and see you in action and then sit down with you. Is that okay with you?”

“Oh, yeah that’s fine. Is he coming in today?” “Yes, if you were okay with it he wanted to come in today. If they decided to go with you, they’d want you to start ASAP.”

“Um, okay. Yeah. That’s fine. Hopefully it doesn’t distract my kiddos, but sure. Tell him to come by whenever.” “Great! I’ll give him a call.” You nodded and walked to your classroom.

Before the kids arrived, you sent your husband a text.

You: Hey, I might have a potential tutoring gig. Ms Smith is having a dad come in today. He and his wife wanted to see me in action. I’d be tutoring their three kids. I’ll let you know how it goes. I love you, babe.

Hubby: That’s great, you sure three kids won’t be too much? I love you too.

You: 3 kids? I teach 22 kids all day. I think I can handle 3.

Hubby: Yeah, you’re right. 

You finished getting things ready for the day as the kids started to arrive. “Good morning Ms Y/L/N!” The kids greeted you as they came into the room. “Good morning everyone.” 

Once the students got settled you called them to sit on the carpet to talk about today and how there might be a visitor. They were excited. You taught 5 & 6 year olds, so anytime there was a visitor it was always a big deal. 

“Now I want you all to be on your best behavior, and if we have a visitor I want you to do your best to ignore them, okay?” The kids nodded in agreement. 

A few hours later you were reading a book to your students when you heard your classroom door open. Glancing over you saw the principal and a man walk in. You kept teaching, not paying attention to the people in the room. 

When you read books, you are very animated. The kids would giggle and were completely engaged. At the end of your story you asked questions and called on some students to answer. A few minutes later you had them go back to their desks to complete the writing assignment you had given them. 

As you walked around checking their writing the principal approached you. “Ms Y/L/N, this is Mr Ackles. Mr Ackles, this is Ms. Y/L/N, our favorite Kindergarten teacher.” Your eyes went wide. Standing in your classroom was Jensen Ackles. His green eyes sparkling like emeralds under the fluorescent lights, his sandy brown hair perfectly styled, and he smelled like heaven. 

He extended his hand to shake yours. “Hello Ms Y/L/N, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.” You took his hand in yours and your breath hitched. You knew who he was, you’d been a fan for years. “Nice to meet you too, Mr Ackles. I look forward to speaking with you more about the tutoring needs of your children.” 

He smiled and nodded. The two of you couldn’t tear your eyes away from each other. You unconsciously bit your lip. The sound of a little voice pulled you two out of your trance. “Ms Y/L/N, is this right?” One of your students came up with her paper for you to check. “So what should this sentence start with?” Her bright eyes looking at you and then down at her paper, “Um, oh a capital.” You smiled and nodded.

She went back to her seat and fixed her paper. “Okay guys, remember to capitalize, and illustrate your writing. Don’t forget your setting and color.”

Your principal came up to you, “We are going to head out, I’ll give Mr. Ackles your number so you two can set up a meeting.” You nodded and thanked them, then they left.

Your heart was still pounding in your chest and you felt a warmth fill your body. Girl, get it together. He’s way out of your league, both of you are married, and you might be tutoring his children. This is just a celebrity crush. Keep it professional. 

The end of the day came quickly. You were cleaning up your classroom when you heard a knock on your classroom door. Looking up you saw Jensen. Your breath caught in your throat. “Excuse me Ms Y/L/N, I hope I’m not disturbing you.” “Oh no, I’m just cleaning up before heading home. How can I help you Mr Ackles?” 

“Well I really liked what I saw today. You were engaging and gentle but you can see your students know your expectations. I’d like to offer you the tutoring job if you’d like it.” “Oh, of course. May I meet your children before I officially start? This won’t work if the kids don’t like me.” 

Jensen smiled and nodded. “I’ll text you my address and you’re welcome to come by this afternoon.” “Sure, that would be great. I can’t wait to meet them and your wife.” You smiled. “Well, she’s out of town right now, so that will have to wait.” “Okay. If you need to wait for her, that's fine. I want her to be fine with me tutoring the kids too.” “Nope, this was something we’d talked about before she left, and she knew I was going to hire someone as soon as I could.”

“Okay, great. I’ll come by this afternoon then. I’ll see you later Mr Ackles.” “Jensen, please call me Jensen.” “Jensen, then. Feel free to call me Y/N.” He smiled and so did you. When he left you pulled out your phone to text your husband.

You: Hey, heading to meet the kids I might be tutoring. The dad asked me to come by this afternoon.

Hubby: Okay, I’ll see you at home later then. Love you

You: I love you too. 

You set your phone down and finished cleaning. A few minutes later your phone went off.

Unknown: Hey, Y/N. This is Jensen. My address is 123 E Main Street. Can’t wait for the kids to meet you.

You: Hey, Jensen. I can’t wait to meet them either. I’ll be there in about 20 minutes. Just finishing up here. 

Jensen: Great! See you then.

You finished what you were doing and grabbed your stuff heading out of the school. Driving to Jensen’s house you were nervous but excited. You’d tutored before, but never for a celebrity and definitely not for someone you had been crushing on for decades. 

Pulling down the long driveway you were in awe at the spacious home that stood before you. Putting your car in park, you grabbed your bag and got out. 

Before you could knock on the door it opened and Jensen greeted you with a smile. “Hey, Y/N, glad you could make it.” “Hello, Mr. Ackles, thank you for having me.” “Please, call me Jensen.” You nodded and smiled, “Okay, Jensen.” 

He welcomed you into his spacious home and led you to the living room. “Please have a seat, and I’ll get the kids down here. Would you like anything to drink? Tea, water?” “Um, sure, I’ll have water if you don’t mind.” “Sure thing. I’ll grab it and the kids.”

You sat on the couch as Jensen left the room. You heard him calling the kids and the sound of feet on the stairs. 

Jensen and the kids came back to the room. He handed you the water. “Thank you.” He nodded and smiled. “Kids, this is Ms Y/L/N, she’s going to be your tutor. Ms Y/L/N, this is my oldest, Annie, and the twins, Jessica and Jensen Jr., we call him Jr.” “Hi guys, it’s nice to finally meet you three.” “Hello Ms Y/L/N, it’s nice to meet you too.” Jensen’s son walked over and sat next to you, “Are you married? Do you have any kids?” “Yes I am married, and no I don’t have any children yet. I’m a teacher so my students are like my kids right now.” 

The five of you sat in the living room talking and getting to know each other. After the kids got tired of talking and asking you questions, they left the room. Leaving you and Jensen alone. “So, Y/N, what do you think? Think you can handle them?” You smiled and nodded, “Yes. They seem really sweet, I’d be just fine with them.” 

“Well, all that’s left is to talk about schedule, pay, and the NDA. The NDA is to protect everyone involved. You’re more than welcome to contact an attorney to look it over.” You smiled and nodded. About 45 minutes later you and Jensen had talked about your schedule, the pay and he’d given you the NDA.

“So, Y/N, do you have any additional questions for me?” “Yes, when will your wife be back, I’d love to meet her too.” “She won’t be back for a few weeks, but you’ll get to meet her when she returns.” You nodded and stood, “Well, Jensen I better leave you to it. I need to get home anyway. I have some things to do for work.” “Of course, well thank you again for coming by this evening. Let me walk you out.” 

The two of you walked towards the door. “Thank you again, Y/N for agreeing to take this job. We’ve interviewed so many people and they couldn’t get past my status to focus on the kids.” “If I’m being honest Jensen, I’ve been a fan of yours for years, but I promise that will not interfere with my job.” Jensen stepped a little closer to you, and your heart beat faster, “I’m glad. I think this is going to work out for everyone.” A blush filled your cheeks and you bit your lip. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jensen. Please tell the kids goodbye.” He nodded as you stepped out of the house.

Getting into your car, you let out the breath you’d been holding. Driving home you couldn’t focus on anything but how gorgeous Jensen looked. Stop it girl! You work for him now. If you can’t stop these thoughts there is no way you’re going to be able to work for him. Your focus should be on his children. Both of you are married, and his wife is absolutely gorgeous. 

About a half hour later you were pulling in your driveway. Your husband was already home. Walking in the house you announced you were home, “Honey I’m home.” Your husband, Jeff, came around the corner and pulled you into a hug and a kiss. 

“How was the meeting with the family?” He asked as he pulled back. “It was great. The kids are so sweet. The wife is out of town and the dad is super nice too. There is a little problem. Well, not really a problem, but something I need to tell you.” “Okay, babe, is everything okay?” “Yeah, so the dad asked me to sign an NDA.” Your husband laughed, “Why is he a secret service agent or a celebrity?” You got a serious look on your face and your husband’s laughter died down. “What? Is he really?” “He and his wife are celebrities. It’s Jensen Ackles.”

Your husband pulled away and looked at you in surprise. He knew how much you liked Jensen and how much of a fan you’d been. “Yeah, I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with you working for him.” You looked at him confused, “What? Why not?” “Oh I don’t know, maybe because you’ve had the hots for him for years.” 

“Jeff, come on, really? I have no interest in him. I love you and I’m married to you. This is a job to help bring in more income for us. Besides, the pay is incredible. I tried to negotiate because I felt it was too much, but he insisted. We’d make enough in two months to pay off our credit cards.” 

Your husband’s jaw tightened, “I don’t care. I forbid you to take this job!” “I’m sorry, what? You forbid me?!? What the hell is wrong with you?” He stepped closer to you, “You heard me. You can’t take the job.” You scoffed and walked away. Jeff grabbed your arm, “Don’t fucking walk away from me!” “Let me go Jeff!” You pulled your arm away and walked to your shared room, locking the door behind you.

You sat on your bed and cried. How could he act like this? You two had been married for years and never had you given him a reason to doubt your loyalty. He’d never grabbed you before and you would never let him do it again. 

You pulled out your phone and sent a text to your best friend.

You: Hey, can I come crash at your place for a bit. Jeff and I had a bad fight. I don’t want to be here right now.

Y/B/F: Absolutely. Are you okay? Do you need me and hubby to come over?

You: Yeah, I’m okay. No, I’ll be okay. I’ll call if I need you.

Y/B/F: Okay babes, see you soon.

You grabbed your suitcase and put some work clothes and casual clothes in it. You grabbed your toiletries and other things you needed. As you walked out into the living room Jeff was sitting on the couch. You could see he was still pissed. “Have you come to your senses, Y/N?” “Yes I have, I’m going to Y/B/F’s house until I figure things out. You will NEVER put your hands on me again!” 

He stood and your heart beat fast. As he walked closer to you, you could see the rage in his face. You had been with him for years and you had never seen him like this, you were scared. 

Jeff stepped closer to you, mere inches from your face, “That’s right, go run to her house and go be his whore.” You didn’t say anything. You grabbed your bags and left. 

Driving down the road the tears started to fall. How could he act like this over a simple job? Why was he so jealous over Jensen? Sure you liked him, but you would never act on those feelings.

Pulling into your friend’s driveway you saw her open the door before you got out of the car. She ran up to you and threw her arms around you. “Oh sweetie, what happened?” She saw your tear stained face. “I told him about the tutoring job I took and he lost it. Told me I couldn’t take it and then he grabbed my arm. When I told him I was leaving he told me to go be the dad’s whore. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” 

“Let’s get you inside, eat and I’ll open a bottle of wine. Then we can talk.” You nodded and grabbed your things. Her husband walked over and gave you a big hug, “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I’m gonna head out so you girls can chat. Enjoy dinner.” He placed a kiss on your head before heading out the door. 

Y/F/N and you grabbed the food, and wine and sat down in the living room. “So why would he get so pissed about a tutoring job?” “Well the dad asked me to sign an NDA, he’s a celebrity. I guess Jeff thought I’d sleep with the dad or something. I just don’t understand.” “Oooh who is it?” “I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. Maybe I can ask if I can tell you, but I want to respect his privacy.” “I get it, but Jeff still shouldn’t have gotten pissed about it. Sounds like he’s got something to hide honestly.”

You hadn’t thought about that before, but now you couldn’t get it out of your head. Maybe he was the one cheating on you and was projecting. “Well even if he is, I don’t think I can go back to him. After he put his hands on me and the way he tried to intimidate me before I left. I can’t live with that fear.” “You are welcome to stay here as long as you want. We’ve got you girl, and don’t worry he won’t get near you here.”

*Time Jump 3 months*

“Okay guys, let’s get up and stretch for a bit. We’ve been working hard. Who wants to go outside and play for a bit?” You asked the kids after spending about an hour working with them at the kitchen table. The kids jumped up and ran outside, laughing and racing each other. You smiled as you started to clean up the table. 

Jensen walked into the kitchen and smiled, “Break time, I see.” “Yeah, they needed a break and so did I. Can I get you a coffee, Jensen?” Jensen walked over to the coffee pot, “No, let me get one for you. You’ve been busy educating my children. It’s the least I can do.” 

Jensen grabbed a coffee cup and filled it up, sliding it to you at the kitchen bar. You nodded and told him thank you. He filled one up and leaned against the counter. “So, how are they doing? Are you still okay with working with all three of them?” “Oh they are amazing children. You and your wife should be very proud of them. I adore them.” 

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate that.” “So if you don’t mind me asking, when is Mrs. Ackles coming home? I know she’s been out of town on a trip for about a week.” “Oh, yeah she’s on a girls trip. I believe she will come back next week. Maybe she’ll be around more after she gets back.” You could see the pain in his eyes and it broke your heart. “Well I can’t wait to sit and chat with her. I enjoy talking to you, and I’m sure I’ll enjoy sitting and talking to her too.” 

There was a pregnant silence that fell between you two, you looked up and met his eyes. They had a softness to them and were full of kindness. You blushed and smiled. The silence was broken by the sounds of crying. Jensen and you jumped up and ran outside. His daughter, Jessica was sitting on the ground crying. You and Jensen ran over to her and saw her knee was bleeding. 

Jensen scooped her up and carried her in the house. He sat her on the counter and you stood next to her. “Shh, it’s okay baby girl. Your daddy is going to get the first aid kit.” You rubbed her back and wiped her tears. 

Jensen came back carrying the first aid box. You held Jessica’s hand as he cleaned up the wound. “So Jess, what do you want for dinner? I bet you can get your daddy to get you whatever you want.” “I want cheeseburgers and ice cream, she sniffled.” “Ooh that sounds yummy. Does your daddy make good burgers?” She smiled and nodded. 

“Okay baby girl, all done.” Jessica looked at Jensen, “It didn’t even hurt.” Her eyes were wide. You smiled and Jensen looked over at you and smiled. “Well I think Ms Y/N has the magic touch then.” “Yes she does. Ms Y/N, can you stay for dinner?” Jensen was shocked, “Oh honey, Ms. Y/N has to get home to her husband. She can’t stay for dinner.” 

“Well, Jessica, if it’s okay with your dad I’d love to stay for dinner.” “Yay! I’m gonna go tell Jr and Annie.” You helped her down and she took off. As you were helping Jensen clean up, he looked at you, “Thank you for keeping her calm, but you really don’t have to stay. I’m sure your husband is waiting for you.” 

You put your head down, trying to hold back the tears. Taking a deep breath, “No, he’s not. I really would like to stay if you’re okay with it.” “Yes, that would be great. Jess really wants you to stay.” “Okay, let me help you cook then.” “Oh no ma’am, you are our guest.” 

You smiled “Please, it’s the least I can do.” “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?” “Nope, you’re not.” You laughed. “Okay, fine.” He chuckled.

Thirty minutes later you and Jensen were calling the kids in to wash up for dinner. Dinner was delicious and after dinner Jensen pulled out the ice cream. Jessica was excited, because they didn’t get ice cream often. “My wife would kill me if she knew I was giving them ice cream. They tend to get a little wild.” You both laughed. 

After ice cream, the kids went to the living room to watch tv while you helped Jensen clean up the kitchen. His phone rang as you two were cleaning. He sighed before he answered and walked out of the room. 

You kept cleaning and a few minutes later he came back in. “Sorry about that. It was my wife. She wanted to talk to the kids.” “Oh it’s not a problem. That’s sweet she calls when she’s away.” “Yeah, it is.” His jaw tightened a bit. 

The two of you reached for a bowl at the same time and your hands brushed against each other. A chill went through your body. You two looked at each other and you bit your lip, he swallowed hard. 

“Sorry,” you said as you pulled your hand back. “It’s okay.” Jensen cleared his throat, “Well it’s getting late. I’m sure your husband is worried about you.” You took a deep breath, “No, we um, actually split up a little over 3 months ago.” Jensen placed his hand on yours, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That has to be hard.” “Yeah, it has been. Things just got really bad, so I left. I’ve been living with my best friend and her husband since.” 

“Well, if it gets too crazy there we have a guesthouse you’re welcome to stay in. I know the kids would love to have you around more.” You smiled, “That’s a generous offer, but I think I’m okay where I am right now. Besides, that’s a decision I think your wife should be included in.” “I understand, the offer stands though. She’d be fine with it. She’s always willing to help people.” “Thank you, I appreciate that. I’ll keep it in mind.” 

About an hour later the kids were in bed and you were getting ready to head home. “Well, thank you for dinner and a wonderful evening. I will see you on Monday.” Jensen stood to walk you to the door. His hand brushed lightly on the small of your back and a shiver went through you. “Good night, Jensen. Thank you again for dinner and the conversation.” “Good night, Y/N, and you’re welcome.” Jensen reached out and pulled you into a hug. You took a deep breath and breathed him in. God he smelt amazing, and he was so warm. 

When you two pulled away he lightly ran his thumb over your cheek. You instinctively leaned into his touch. Your breath hitched, “I should go.” You whispered. “Yeah, you probably should.” 

Jensen stepped closer, you bit your lip. His thumb ran over your chin, pulling your lip out of your teeth. Your breathing grew more rapid and your heart beat wildly. His lips were inches from yours, your breath mingling with his. He licked his lips and leaned even closer. You felt his lips ghosting over yours. “Jensen..” “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” You looked at him, your voice caught in your throat. “Y/N, do you want me to stop?” “No,” was all you said. 

Jensen’s lips crashed into yours. Soft but forceful and full of passion and need. Your mind swirling, your heart pounding as his tongue licked your lips asking for entrance. You parted your swollen lips and his tongue took dominance in your mouth. Jensen’s hands went into your hair and pulled you closer to him. Your hands wrapped around his neck. 

The kiss seemed to last for hours, the need for air causing your lungs to scream for oxygen, but in that moment Jensen was the only thing you needed to live. When the need for air became too much, you both pulled away, panting with swollen lips. 

You were blushing and Jensen was smiling. “I’ve been dying to do that for a really long time.” You smiled and bit your lip. His hand brushing against your cheek, “So beautiful”. You took a deep breath, “Good night Jensen.” He placed a soft peck on your lips before you walked out of the house. 

Driving home all you could think of was the kiss. You’d dreamed of kissing him for years, but he’s married. What did the kiss mean to him, to your job? Would he want to do it again, would you? Your mind was racing with thoughts of the kiss and how you could still feel his lips on yours. The sound of your phone pulling you out of your head.

Jensen: So I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I swear I didn’t plan that. 

You: You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I liked it. Honestly, a little too much. 

Jensen: I liked it too. I’d like to do it again if you want.

You: I like that more than you know, but you’re married and my boss. I’m not sure it’s a great idea.

What the hell are you doing!? Jensen Ackles is telling you he wants to kiss you again and you’re shooting him down. Ugh!

Jensen: I understand. Please don’t think this changes anything or affects your job. It doesn’t. You’re amazing with my kids and I wouldn’t want to mess that up.

You: Thank you. I appreciate you saying that. Good night, and I’ll see you Monday.

Jensen: Good night, Y/N. Sweet dreams and see you Monday.

As you crawled into bed that night all you could think about was the kiss and how wonderful his hands felt on you. A small pang of guilt crept into your head when you thought about his wife. You still couldn’t believe you told him you didn’t think kissing him again would be a good idea. His lips were so soft and damn was he a good kisser. 

Could you really still work for him after this, or would the pull to kiss him become too much?

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@peachhiz 

[eluxurex]

I remember the times when I first found out about vore and was looking for a website where I can see more of it. YouTube..nope, most of them is just ASMR which people saying is just a recording of the same thing from a movie but I'm not sure. Deviantart...hell no, most the things there fetishy and weird pregnant stuff and all the sfw stories there I had already viewed them. Kept on looking in different sites for vore I love liked but didn't find any.

Until I found Tumblr.

I swear, I was literally thinking about completing ignoring the fact that I liked vore and just bury in the deepest parts of mind, forgetting it. I mean, that what literally vore was before I got on the Internet; just a weird trope if mine that I barely think about.

I used to think that if you liked vore you must like it sexually. That sounded off to me, because never had I ever seen it in that light. And I found out I mostly liked the safer side of it, where the prey doesn't have to die, where everyone's happy. So whenever I searched for vore, I always made sure to add the word "safe" to it. It was what I wanted.

I didn't even discover Tumblr because of vore, I got led here by Undertale dubs, because almost always the description of the video will say the artist is on this site. Then one day, I just decided to search up vore here. Just for the sake of it.

My world had frickin expanded. I didn't even know there were this many people that like vore in a non-sexually sense. I've seen so many opinions, so many ideas from people who share the same likes as me.

I may have not have come tumblr for vore, but here I am. I love this community, couldn't have asked for anything better. I mean, if I had never seen a sfw vore community I wouldn't have made this account.

(I suddenly feel very happy as I wrote all of this. You all are the best :D )

Edit:

[yuurei20]

Malleus Facts Part 33: Malleus and Azul (pt2)

Malleus observes Azul’s interactions with Rollo and reflects, “Is that how one expands their social circle? Perhaps I should take a leaf from his book”.

Despite Malleus’ love of gargoyles, he does not notice the gargoyle in Noble Bell College’s bell tower move.

When Azul comments on it (“I know what I saw…!”) Malleus suggests that he take a long rest, as he must simply be tired. (Azul is later proven correct.)

During the fight with Rollo, Azul takes a hit for Malleus and Idia in order to save up enough magical energy via Deuce’s unique magic to take Rollo down.

Malleus apologizes but Idia assures him that Azul would never go out of his way to shield him. Malleus is capable of breaking down the structure of the spell that Azul uses at a glance, impressing Azul.

Azul reveals it was actually Deuce’s unique magic that he acquired through his own. Malleus responds, “I have to hand it to you. Or…do I…?”

When Malleus begins to consider revealing his performance prematurely during the afternoon festival rather than the social it is Azul who stops him, with Malleus deciding to heed his advice.

Azul stands up to Malleus saying, “While our backgrounds and skillsets differ, we stand as equals at Night Raven College. Yes, you have power far beyond anything we’re capable of. But nonetheless, I have my pride as a fellow housewarden, and I will not be looked down upon.”

Malleus; “I’m glad to see you’re still as fast-talking as ever.”

Their performance at NBC was Azul’s idea: learning that Malleus was hoping to present a token of gratitude he volunteers to join and suggests a song.

Azul is surprised by Malleus’ passion for the project.

Malleus: “Ashengrotto, you were half a beat off joining in just now. Also, when I listened to the recording of us singing the chorus, your voice wasn’t blending with mine. That won’t do. We need to be in perfect harmony during the chorus. Lilia said so himself.”

At the end of the event Malleus says that the could not have done it without Azul and Idia’s help, saying that he owes them his gratitude. (“The same goes for Flamme, who provided me the opportunity to perform.”)

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Prompt: Tommy meets Evan's three chaotic roommates, who are also named Evan

(Based off the fact that Buck knew three other Evans at the Academy and the idea that they're all roommates, just because I think it would be funny)

send me headcanons and microfic prompts

Okay, I kind of love this and might expand this into an entire fic at some point. But this is an AU where Tommy never left the 118 and meets Buck for the first time as a probie.

Four Evans

Tommy wasn't sure what he had expected when Evan said at the bar, "Okay. Okay, so this might get a little confusing, but I have three other roommates and they're all named Evan."

Tommy hadn't really thought much about it when Evan had pushed him into a wall and made out with him. Possibly because he barely had a brain cell to think with at that moment.

But as Tommy said, fuck it, and decided, okay, he would actually go home with the probie tonight, he hadn't really thought much about what four guys sharing a condo would entail.

That it wasn't already a terrible idea to go home with new guy Evan "Buck" Buckley.

It felt like a frat house.

Not that Tommy knew what a frat house looked like, he hadn't gone to college, but this was what he assumed it looked like.

Mess everywhere.

A strange smell to the whole place; a little like old milk.

And three guys sitting on beanbags that looked to be picked up from the side of the road, all playing the latest Call of Duty or something.

They all.

Narrowed in.

On Tommy and Evan.

And.

Stared.

Suddenly, Evan tensed. As if this was his first time.

Shit.

It was, wasn't it?

As if Evan hadn't prepared for this or even thought about what could happen in this scenario. And, hell, it wasn't as if Tommy hadn't just recently come out as gay to the entire 118. It wasn't as if this wasn't all new to him too.

One of the Evans, the Evan on the farthest side of the room with the curtained boyband look to him, said, "I thought we said we weren't allowed to bring company."

The one in the middle, the one with the crew cut that screamed, my parents will hear about this, said, "Yeah, only on party Fridays, bro."

The one closest to them, the one with the short twists, took in Tommy and announced, "He's kind of hot."

Which.

Surprised the other two Evans.

"What?" said the one with the twists, shrugging, "He is."

And faster than Tommy had ever seen someone shed any panic over his sexuality with a group of guys his peers, Tommy's Evan, the Evan holding Tommy's hand, blurted, "He's mine, Jemisin!"

Before.

Before dragging Tommy up the stairs.

And.

And Tommy couldn't help but laugh at that.

"What?" grumbled Evan as Evan pulled Tommy into the only fucking clean room in the trashed condo.

"Nothing, it's just - it's just you're so adorable," said Tommy, unable to stop himself from smiling so wide that his nose crinkled.

And.

And Evan seemed so enamored with Tommy's smile, somehow.

Tommy's smile.

"You're the adorable one," said Evan, all timber and want, pushing Tommy onto his bed and crawling atop him.

And okay.

This wasn't a mistake.

This couldn't be a mistake. Not with how Evan's thighs felt as they bracketed Tommy; not with how Evan's lips felt as Evan leaned down to give Tommy another mindblowing kiss.

[swarvey]

paper rings | harvey x f!reader

summary -> Harvey gets drunk with the boys; you have a realization. warnings -> none! wc -> 3818

a/n: calm before the storm <3

ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8

paper rings masterlist

chapter seven: i think he knows -> "it's like i'm seventeen, nobody understands."

“Done!” 

Triumphantly placing the last piece of the bundle in the box, you watched happily as a blue Junimo picked it up and took it away. As you continuously brought goods to the Community Center in hopes of restoring it — per Mayor Lewis’s request — you noticed this particular Junimo seemed to have taking a liking to you, as it kept following you to random places. Not only was it mainly the one who would take your completed bundles, but once in a while, it would show up at the farm or in the mines, usually looking at you with curious eyes before disappearing. You weren’t complaining, of course. It was harmlessly adorable, and after seeing it a couple of times, you fittingly named it Blueberry. It seemed as determined to bring the building back to its prime as you were.

You could hardly believe anyone in town would shop at the Joja Mart over Pierre’s. Sure, the guy could be a bit stuck-up, but at least his goods weren’t processed to hell like Joja’s. You shivered at the thought of working for the cursed company again, not comprehending how Sam and Shane could tolerate being in that place regularly. 

Well, Sam less so, as he always seemed to figure out how to entertain himself. It seemed like Shane just liked being in a place where no one would bother him, which made you all the more confused as to why he hung around Harvey and, of all people, Elliott, who seemed to be his polar opposite. 

You sighed contently as Blueberry wound around your feet once before walking away with the bundle, proudly looking at the two rooms you had completed so far. Although the effort was taking you a bit longer than you liked, seeing the rooms steadily come together was enough for you. You chose not to question how the Community Center was repairing itself, or where the Junimos came from — you’d learned long ago that many things in the Valley were unexplainable, and you were okay with that. 

You smiled as you waved goodbye to your little blue friend, swearing you saw it wave back.

I wonder what Harvey would think of this little guy.

-

“What in the everloving fuck am I looking at right now.”

For once, Harvey completely agreed with Shane’s words. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream, but whatever Elliott was holding up on his phone screen was not making an ounce of sense to him.

“It’s a visualization of my novel!” the writer exclaimed, his usually precise tone slurred due to the three empty glasses in front of him. “I decided to expand my creative mind and turn to another output. This will allow me to make full use of my thought process.”

Shane snorted, grabbing the phone out of his hands and squinting at the poorly drawn stick figures. “Dude, I don’t know how to break it to you,” he started, laughter already bubbling in his voice, “but this looks like shit .”

Harvey shook his head and smiled as Shane cackled. Elliott snatched his phone back in retaliation, visibly offended. “It’s a rough draft, it’s not meant to look polished! You agree, don’t you, my good doctor?”

“. . . It kind of looks like shit,” he admitted, his rare use of profanity slipping off his tongue easily. Harvey took a long swig of his drink, avoiding Elliott’s utterly betrayed gaze.

Meanwhile, Shane continued to crack up, holding his stomach as he doubled over. “If this is the rough draft, the real thing might just pass off as a kindergartener’s drawing. Hey, why don’t I ask Jas to give you some tips? She’s not half bad, that kid.”

“I absolutely will not — actually,” Elliott paused, cutting off his own sentence, “that may not be a terrible idea. Then, I could obtain a glimpse of how she views my work, and incorporate it into the final product!”

As Shane groaned, tuning out the rest of the other man’s rambling, Harvey felt his phone buzz, looking down to see a text from you lighting up his screen.

Y/N : hey, you at the saloon?

In the midst of his drunken haze, he allowed a lovestruck smile to stretch his lips. He didn’t even notice Shane and Elliott momentarily pausing their bickering to glance at him, both of them raising their brows. 

Harvey : Am I that predictable?

Y/N : like clockwork. drunk off your ass yet?

Harvey : I never get drunk off my ass, Y/N.

Y/N : really? 

should i send the video?

Harvey : DO NOT!!

I asked you to delete it years ago. :(

Y/N : LOL you’re totally drunk

i’ll ask emily to take some funny photos

i’ve been meaning to update your contact pic anyway

Harvey : You are impossible.

Harvey felt like a teenager again, hiding his grin and tinted cheeks behind his hand. 

Harvey : Are you at home?

Y/N : yeah, i’m beat, probably gonna head to bed

still down for the festival on tuesday?

His posture straightened as he suddenly remembered the invitation he’d given you to the Stardew Valley Fair. After checking the date and seeing that it was Saturday, he realized he had less than a week to mentally prepare himself for the event. 

“Shit,” he swore quietly, once again not noticing the appalled look on Elliott’s face at his swear. Shane snickered, no doubt finding it amusing to see the doctor so intoxicated — it was largely his fault, after all, since he’d been determined to partake in as many rounds as humanely possible.

Harvey : Of course! Why don’t I meet you at the clinic?

I’ll have to close up in the morning, so you can come in and wait for me.

Y/N : wow, inviting me over to your clinic? 

does this mean i get a free check-up? 

A free . . . check-up?

Harvey could only imagine this was what short-circuiting felt like.

Apparently, alcohol caused his thoughts to run even more wild. Images of you propped up on his examination table and smiling at him innocently flashed through his mind, his fingers frozen and unable to type out a response.

“Talking to Y/N, I’m guessing?” Harvey quickly closed his phone at the sound of Gus’s voice, realizing Shane must have ordered yet another round of drinks for everyone. His friends looked away, though he could still make out their amused smirks. “How’s that goin’ for ya?”

Right. After his first dinner with you in town, Harvey had confessed to Gus the situation he was in, his head bowed in guilt as he lectured him about treating you properly. Despite his protectiveness over you, Gus was still supportive of his feelings, giving him as much advice as he could.

“It’s, uh, going well,” Harvey replied, thinking that was the best word to describe your relations with him as of late. “We’re just as close as we were before.”

The older man nodded, grabbing the empty glasses to stow them away. “Well, you better take care of her, son. It’s not every day people have a connection like the two of you do, and I’d hate to see either of ya get hurt.” With that, Gus worked his way over to the next table, leaving Harvey to sit with his words.

“He’s right,” Shane said, pushing over another glass to him. “You two are somethin’ else for sure. Kinda makes me sick.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Elliott countered. Upon seeing half his new drink was already gone, Harvey questioned how his speech was still comprehensible. “As I have been insisting since our dear Harvey first brought up the farmer, these two are a clear example of fate .”

“Oh, enough with that bullshit. Fate this, fate that — if fate’s real, why can’t it get me a new fuckin’ job, huh? That place makes me feel like I’m losing whatever brain cells I have left.”

Buzz!

“What does she want, anyway?” Shane asked, attempting to read Harvey’s screen. He quickly picked up his phone, looking away sheepishly as he hid your conversation. His friend huffed an unamused laugh, shrugging. “This is some damn middle school shit,” he grumbled, and Elliott laughed into his glass as he sipped his drink.

Y/N : relax harvs, i can practically see you having a heart attack through the screen

it was a joke btw, i’ll make sure to properly pay and schedule an appointment whenever i need one :salute:

Great. Now you thought he was being stingy. 

Harvey : Sorry, I got distracted. You know you can come in whenever you’d like.

Y/N : i know, thanks dr. harvey 

anyways, have fun, i’m off to bed

goodnight!

Harvey : Goodnight, Y/N.

When Harvey awoke the next morning, blinking past the dull ache in his head, he saw an unread text from you sent an hour before. His eyes widened as he opened it, realizing Emily must have listened to your request and snuck a picture of him when he wasn’t paying attention.

Of course, she had caught him while he was texting you, his face and ears burning red and his hidden smile completely up for show in the photo. He groaned in embarrassment, certain you would notice his expression and question him for it.

Instead, your text focused on a completely different aspect of the image.

Y/N : what the hell are those two idiots doing??

Confused, Harvey looked back at the picture and zoomed in, stifling a laugh at the sight of his two friends in the middle of a heated argument. Shane’s lips were pulled back in an aggressive snark while Elliott raised his phone to his face, his eyes lit with an honest passion.

Harvey : Lovers’ quarrel. Happens every day.

-

Memories hit you like a truck as you and your horse slowly headed towards town. You could practically smell the buttered popcorn and hear the ringing sound of festival games already filling the air. The Stardew Valley festival used to be the perfect way to end your summers as a kid, especially when your grandfather would tag along with you. He would always take your hand and smile at you warmly, sometimes even giving you a pouch of coins to spend on your own. You smiled to yourself at the thought. Although he wasn’t walking beside you anymore, you swore you could still feel his familiar energy around you.

Or maybe Emily’s starting to get to me. 

Either way, your excitement only grew at the sight of the booths and games coming together, making sure to stop by your stand and drop off the goods you brought to show off. You were sure each of the items was of top quality and glanced at the other displays to see your competition, though you already knew who you had to beat. You glared at Pierre’s abundant stand, scoffing as you made your way toward Harvey’s clinic. Surely, you would win against the overconfident store owner — you were growing your own crops, after all. 

You poked your head into the clinic, eyes brightening at the sight of your childhood friend. Harvey, too consumed in tidying up, didn’t notice you right away, continuing to rearrange some items in the cabinet and humming to himself. You were suddenly reminded of the image Emily sent you the night before, recalling how, for a split second, you’d thought Harvey looked a bit cute with his flushed cheeks and ears. He’d always gotten a bit pink when he drank, but something about that particular angle of him caught your eye. Maybe it was the fact that he was looking at his phone, no doubt in the middle of texting you? Or maybe it was the dumb smile on his face?

Not that you would ever mention any of that, though. Why would you? They were simply quick thoughts you were having, nothing more.

No, you opted to instead highlight the incredibly stupid looks on his friends’ faces, laughing when he called them lovers. Although you didn’t nearly talk to the other two men as much as he did, you could tell they were all good friends. You were glad Harvey had a circle of support around him — knowing him, he constantly had something to stress over, and you knew you couldn’t always be there for him.

You walked up behind Harvey, giving him an exasperated look when he still didn’t turn around. Half-smiling, you extended your hands toward him, slowly inching closer before poking his sides.

“ Boo! ”

“ Huh —?”

Harvey jumped as he yelped in surprise, dropping several rolls of bandages onto the floor. He bent forward and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath, all while you died of laughter beside him.

“You know I scare easily!” he complained, standing straight to adjust his glasses. 

“Of course I know,” you replied, wiping a fake tear off your cheek. “That’s why I did it.”

“You will never stop tormenting me, will you?”

“Nope. Not ‘til I drop dead.”

“Great,” he deadpanned, shaking his head. “Were you able to finish all your farmwork this morning?”

You nodded, lips still stretched into a lingering smile. “Pet bowls filled, animals fed, and crops watered — all done.” You glanced around the room, noticing he was alone. “Where’s Maru?”

That’s an innocent question, right? Of course it was. She worked under him, after all, it only made sense to ask why she wasn’t there to help. One thought led to another in your head, and suddenly, you were thinking about the Flower Dance; about how pink Maru’s face had been while talking to Harvey; about the soft shyness covering his face, an expression you didn’t know how to read and would bet your farmland it was because he reserved it for her and her only—

“Oh, I told her to sleep in,” he replied easily, putting the bandages in their proper place. “There wasn’t much to do, so I figured I would just get it out of the way.”

Of course. Of course, he told her to sleep in, because Harvey was and always would be thoughtful, more than you’d ever understand.

“Not much to do, huh?” you repeated, and he nodded.

Without warning, you grabbed Harvey’s arm and began to drag him out of the clinic, ignoring his protests about his unfinished work. 

“You can finish when you get back, Harvey, the clinic isn’t going anywhere,” you said, anticipation filling you as Lewis had just finished looking at all the displays. “Mayor Lewis, hey!” You waved him down, and he greeted both of you with a big smile.

“It’s good to see you two.” He sighed, a wistful look taking over him. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown up. Ah, before I forget,” he started, reaching into his pocket. “Y/N, congratulations! You won first place with a rating of a hundred.” You whooped, nearly knocking Harvey over with your excitement as you happily accepted the small bag Lewis gave you. “Here, your prize is a thousand star tokens — use them wisely!”

“A thousand? ” Harvey questioned, peering into the bag. “We used to spend the entire day getting this many tokens.”

“And now, we have a head start,” you said, an old sense of competitiveness creeping its way back into your senses. “Let’s go win some prizes!”

As the plaza began to fill with more and more people, you and Harvey fell back onto your old rhythm — while you took care of all the games requiring strength and technique, he took care of the trickier, mind-twisting ones. Your jaw remained dropped as he stared at the wheel for the seventh time in a row, a finger touching his lips as he thought.

“Green,” Harvey said, to which the man running the game scowled. 

“You sure, bud? You seem awful confident, but your luck might just run out,” he reasoned, though you could tell he was trying to trick him.

Harvey narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure.” 

You laughed giddily as the two of you walked away from the wheel with a heavy sack of tokens, Harvey flaunting a proud look on his face.

“I still don’t get it — how do you do that?” you asked, in awe at his winning streak that had remained unbroken since you first played with him. “You make us tons more compared to that slingshot game!”

He shrugged, putting his hands in his coat pockets. “I mean, after stopping by every year, I started to recognize the pattern. I suppose it’s more statistics, since there’s a much higher chance that—”

“Look who it is!” 

You felt a light punch land on your shoulder as Alex and Haley approached you, watching amusedly as Haley scolded him for hitting you.

“Geez, it wasn’t even that hard,” he mumbled, but lightened up at the sight of your pouch. “You guys won those already?”

“Honestly, it was mostly Harvey,” you admitted, nudging his arm. “Ever since we were kids, he’s always been scarily good at that wheel game. What were you saying, Harvs? Something about statistics, or something?”

No response. 

You looked at him, noticing he was suddenly spacing out and staring at the space in between the two in front of you.

“Harvey? You okay?”

“What?” he questioned, blinking. “Yes, uh, it’s just some simple math, that’s all. Nothing much to it.”

Haley huffed. “Well, can you teach this guy how to do it? ‘Cause whenever I play with him, we never seem to win anything.” Alex opened his mouth to respond, but she paid no mind, opting to walk toward the game Leah was playing instead.

“Wait up!” Just as he was about to turn, Alex looked back at you, grinning. “I’ll see you around, Y/N! Hey, if I have any leftover tokens, I’ll get you something from the prize booth, okay?”

“Deal!” 

After he ran to catch up with the blonde, you turned back to Harvey, cocking your head at the serious look that had hooded over his eyes.

“Um, you sure you’re okay?” you asked, but before you could question him further, he took your arm and led you to the prize booth, gently taking the tokens from your hand. You had never seen him look so determined before, as if he was trying to prove something.

“Here you go, ma’am,” he said, sliding them over to the lady behind the counter. “I believe this should be enough for one of everything you have.”

“One of—? Harvey, what are you doing?!”

That’s how the two of you ended up leaving the Stardew Valley Festival early, Harvey helping you carry home the copious amount of prizes you received.

“You’re sure you don’t want any of this? Come on, Harvs, you practically won all of this yourself,” you said, opening the door to your house. 

Harvey shook his head, smiling as he placed everything in a neat pile at the foot of your bed. You had never seen so many stuffed animals in your life.

“Please, I have no space for any of this in my apartment, anyway.” He looked fondly at the matching bear they’d given the two of you — although yours was obviously more worn down, the design on the new one was the exact same as its counterpart.

You shook your head, pressing the bear back into his arms. “I’ve already got mine, this one can be yours. I can’t have two of the same thing.” You definitely could. Part of you just liked the idea of matching with him.

“If you insist.” He smiled at the stuffed animal in his arms, though it quickly wiped from his face as he turned to leave. “Is that . . .?” You followed his gaze, stomach dropping at what had caught his eye.

He was staring directly at the bouquet you’d hung by your bedside the first morning you had moved in.

Fuck, fuck. He can’t know, I had no idea what those stupid flowers meant back then! You wanted to punch your past self in the jaw for her stupidity. After the Spring season had past, you’d learned the true meaning behind the bouquets Pierre sold, cursing him for not telling you back then. There was no way Harvey could know you bought it with him in mind, not when neither of you saw each other in that way.

Not when he had Maru in mind, supposedly the girl he felt he was constantly gravitating towards.

“Oh, that?” you laughed awkwardly, a cold sweat brewing on your neck. “I bought it for myself!”

He blinked, and for a second, you thought you saw relief flash in his eyes. “Ah, for . . . yourself?”

“Hey, don’t judge,” you responded, crossing your arms. “I just thought they looked nice, so I decided to dry the whole thing to make it last. That’s all.”

“But you do know what a bouquet symbolizes, correct?”

“I do, in fact, know what they mean, Dr. Judgey,” you shot back, feigning offense. “What happened to being a supportive friend?”

“Alright, enough with the dramatism,” he laughed lightly, adjusting his hold on the bear. “I had fun today, Y/N. Um . . . thank you, for spending time with me.”

The tension left your shoulders as you smiled at him. “It’s the least I can do, especially after you got me all this stuff.” You held the door open for him as he left. “Same time next year?” you asked playfully. He managed to salute in agreement with one of his hands, peeking around the stuffed animal’s body to make sure he wasn’t running into anything. 

You spent the rest of the night staring at the flowers on the wall, wondering why your heart clenched whenever you thought back to Harvey seeing them. There was no way he could figure it out, right? As smart as he was, you highly doubted he would think the bouquet was meant for him. You used to visibly gag in front of him whenever people mentioned the idea of you dating him.

So, why were you now having the same reaction at the thought of him dating someone else?

You groaned in frustration into your pillow, lifting your head to look at the pestering flowers once more. You knew it wasn’t fair — it wasn’t fair you were just starting to like him when you’d quite literally had years to do so, and it especially wasn’t fair that he was, in fact, in love with someone else. You couldn’t blame him, though, of course you couldn’t. Maru was smart, pretty, and kind; she lined up with Harvey perfectly.

And yet, there was a part of you screaming there was no one more fitting for him than you. It didn’t matter, though. None of your thoughts mattered if Harvey didn’t see you in that light, if all he saw when he looked at you was his childhood friend who he was able to reconnect with.

You closed your eyes.

It never hurt to pretend, though.

[bakiuwu]

The Odd Traits Of A Hanma

This is a silly idea that I've decided to turn into a little series, based on a hc of mine that Baki,Jack, and Yujiro all have similar traits due to their Hanma blood, despite all of them being different. This fic is kinda like a case study if you, the reader, were in some type of relationship with one of the three and what odd behaviors you would experience with each Hanma.

The following traits you will experience with each Hanma are:

Staring problems

Unnerving sleeping patterns

Accidental stalking

-------------------------------------------------------

Staring problems:

All Hanmas have staring problems, Hanma's like to stare at someone who their interested in/in love with. Either if it's innocent, unconsciously, or intentional. All three hanma have this issue, but each of them have their own way of displaying this odd behavior ----------------------------------------------------

First Subject

Baki Hanma:

While being with baki, you may experience a habit of him staring at you. maybe while you're reading a book or doing the dishes, you can feel the soft but heavy gaze coming from the less threatening Hanma as he sits in the living room. You're able to sense his eyes following your every movement. At first, you dont mind when he does it. You think it's cute, honestly.

Him being enamored by your very existence of doing the most mundane things. Wanting to watch your every step, It made you feel special in a way. Like his eyes were only made for you. One day, while cleaning in the kitchen, you came up with the idea to stare back at him while he does his usual staring, You put down the dish you were working on and being to stare at your silly boyfriend. You surely thought as soon as you meet his gazed, he'll shyly look away and joke about how you might think hes a weirdo for staring at you so much, ya know something to share a giggle over.............but..........he doesn't look away.

You stare straight at him, and he doesn't even blink....hes just....staring at you with a cute smile. His expression was soft, as like if he was in true bliss. You didn't know how to feel about it, it was cute but also.....creepy. You walk towards him while maintaining eye contact, thinking to yourself "....maybe he unconsciously stares... right?" You get closer to him, His pupils expanding wider as you kneel down to his level. You're now sitting in front of him, only a small space between the two of you. You gulp quietly, "uhm, baki....are you there?" his smile grows wider."Of course I'm here. Where else would I be? he innocently says while leaning closer. You nervously chuckle. " Heh....you sure do love to stare....heh."

Baki continues to stare deeply into your eyes for what felt like an hour. You weren't even sure if he was breathing anymore, making you feel even more unnerve. He slowly wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, "Only at the things that I love," he says softly. He nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a small "hmmm."

You slowly return the hug, still not knowing how to feel about this situation. You nervously chuckle to yourself. "......aw.....how um sweet of you baki.....heh". The two of you hug for what felt like a decade, the only sound being your breathing and his heart beating. You realized you needed to pee." Hey, baki?.....I need to use the bathroom." He didn't say anything at first, but he slowly begins to release you from his hug, removing his head from your neck, still staring at you with those big innocent eyes.

"I love y/n," he's says so softly it was almost like a whisper. Your expression softness, despite how odd he's been acting. You take a deep breath and smile softly. He might be a little odd, but he's still your boyfriend. "I love you too, baki." You give him a small kiss on his forehead.

You can tell it caught him off guard. He starts blushing and cheesing like an idiot. You get up and head off to the bathroom, still being able to feel the loving gazed of your cute but odd boyfriend.......Baki Hanma

------------------------------------------------------- In conclusion, baki's staring isn't meant to be creepy.....he just enamored by you and wants to watch your every move.......it's innocent.

In the next part, we will go over how Jack Hanma displays this odd behavior