#I hope they know I meant it when I said I want all the lore

[blahaj-blastin]

I will never turn down the opportunity to hear about someone’s OC or WIP. I love hearing people talk about stuff they made and are passionate about. It makes me so genuinely happy.

It doesn’t matter if we’re strangers or best friends. It doesn’t matter if you’re on the verge of publishing or it will never see the light of day. It doesn’t matter if the lore is deep and developed or if you literally just came up with some dude two minutes ago. Tell me the things! I love the things!

[norrisainz33]

Miami Baby | MV33

☆ summary: actress and avid f1 fan visits the paddock for the first time and she is a certain world champion’s celebrity crush.

☆ pairing: max verstappen x famous!reader x grid!platonic

☆ fc & warnings: suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume.

☆ requested: nope!!

☆ a/n: this was one of the first fics i ever started writing and just havent had the nerve to post it. this is my first time posting a written and smau fic so bear with me here 🥹

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has added to their story

[story 1: guess what i’m up to this week] [story 2: princess treatment fr 💅🏻]

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user2: MIAMI GRAND PRIX?!

user4: omg are you finally going to a grand prix!!!!???

yourbff: AND SHES DRIVING A FERRARI?!

ynuser: YES!! this is a dream come true

yourbff: i’m so happy for you y/n/n 🤍 FORZA FERRARI!!!!

ynuser: FORZA FERRARI

tomholland2013: Hope you have the best time in Miami!! Z says that you have to come with us to Silverstone tho

ynuser: thank you tommy!! count me in 🫶🏻

user3: MAMA Y MIAMI

user1: car or driver - level impossible

ynuser has made a post

liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, sabrinacarpenter, zendaya and 2,657,101 others

ynuser: hot new driver alert, watch out boys! Make sure to catch my hot lap with The Carlos Sainz and say hi if you see me this weekend in Miami 🫶🏻❤️🏎️

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user3: the way she was giggling like a little kid as carlos whipped the car around , oh i love her

user4: no bc she’s finally at a gp living her dreams

user6: she’s literally just another celebrity?

user5: user6 you don’t know the lore! she’s been an f1 fan since before she got famous and she’s been friends with rebecca and alex for quite a while

carlossainz55: had an absolute blast driving with you! looking forward to seeing you this weekend!

ynuser: likewise!!!

scuderiaferrari: bellissima! ready for an exciting weekend ❤️

iamrebeccad: hottest hot lap i’ve ever seen😍😍

maxverstappen1: hot lap with me next

charlesleclerc: since when do you do hot laps?

user8: AM I READING THIS RIGHT

user9: MAX!???????????

user10: i’m sorry is the max verstappen trying to flirt rn

charlesleclerc has posted a story

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ynuser: thank you charlie 🫶🏻

charlesleclerc: bien sûr y/n

user3: do you wanna be my chauffeur next?

maxverstappen1: charles you have got to introduce me to her

charleslerclerc: to who?

maxverstappen1: y/n

charlesleclerc: max are you ok?

maxverstappen1: what do you mean??? yes, i am ok??

charlesleclerc: i’m just shocked you willingly want to be introduced to someone??? let alone a celebrity?

maxverstappen1: charles 🙄

maxverstapppen1: she may or may not be my celebrity crush ok

charlesleclerc: ohhh mon ami you should have said that sooner

charlesleclerc: i’ll get alex and rebecca on the case 😉

maxverstappen1: oh god no charles i just meant an introduction i don’t need anyone on the case 😭

user12: 3 pretty best friends

user14: the little matching outfits?! im sick

ynuser has added to their story

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user15: you were made to wear ferrari merch

iamrebeccad: can’t wait to show you off to all the other boys 😍

ynuser: but you’re the only one i want 😫

iamrebeccad: i know darling but im not the only one who wants you 😉

ynuser: CRYPTIC what does that mean

alexandrasaintmleux: i’m so glad we finally got you to ferrari mon amour but we should definitely take a walk around the paddock!! you can meet some drivers that aren’t in red - maybe some blue

ynuser: i’ll go anywhere with you

maxverstappen1: i think red bull blue would look better on you

ynuser: blue? perhaps!

user17: begging to know where you got that belt it’s so slay

user22: one of these drivers has got to wife you up you’d be the best wag

user18: can’t wait for all the pictures of you on the grid

ynuser has added to their story

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charlesleclerc: find max! he’ll help you get back to ferrari

user14: steal all their notes and bring it to ferrari so we can have a better car

landonorris: come to mclaren its way better here

ynuser: ok then come get me muppet i’m lost 😭

user87: steal one of the cars and give it to carlos!!!

user23: ms girl what are you doing there?? i thought you were supposed to be filming your new movie!

iamrebeccad: 🤭🤭🤭

ynuser: oh so you did this on purpose?

user55: project get ferrari a rocket ship is a go

~~

The pit lane was humming with activity as mechanics and team members alike continued with their duties after a productive qualifying session. You glanced around looking for your friends, alex and rebecca, who had convinced you to take this walk in the first place, but you couldn’t find them in the sea of red bull employees. Letting out a sigh you pulled out your phone hoping to see some sort of reply from either them but there was nothing.

"y/n?" a familiar voice questioned, startling you out of your thoughts. you were met with a confused looking max verstappen and you felt your cheeks heat. max was still in his white fireproofs with his suit pulled down around his waist and you'd be lying if you said he didn't look incredible. you may have accidentally admitted to alex that max was your crush on the grid and you had a sneaking suspicion thats why both her and rebecca magically disappeared leaving you here.

"yes! hi max!!" you said quickly, holding out your hand for him to shake. "it's a genuine honor to meet you!" max looked down at your outstretched hand and paused for a moment before taking it in his own.

his hand engulfed yours as a grin stretched across his face, "the honor is mine, y/n - i'm actually a pretty big fan of yours."

"you are?"

max chuckled, "yes? is that hard to believe?"

"no, no .. i just didn't think you'd know who i was! i mean - im just surprised is all," you said quickly, realizing you were stumbling over your words but max didn't seem to be phased.

"don't be surprised, you are quite talented," max took a sip from his red bull can and you watched as his eyes danced around the pit lane. "do you want an escort back to ferrari?"

"yes, please."

"great, come with me," max rested his hand on the small of your back as he ushered you through the red bull garage and back to the paddock. he made idle chit chat as you tried your very best to focus on anything other than the electricity you could feel from where his hand met the fabric of your dress.

"ahh there you are mon amor!" alex cooed as you and max approached the ferrari hospitality. rebecca looked between you and max with a knowing look on her face. you made a mental note to talk to them both later about how they couldn't just leave you places unattended even if it meant meeting max.

"well would you look at this," charles patted max on the back as he walked past taking his place next to alex. he had a devilish smirk plastered across his handsome features as his eyes travelled between the two of you.

"max was kind enough to help me navigate my way back here after alex and rebecca so sweetly ditched me in the pit lane."

"oh was he now? well then we must repay my dear friend! how about you come to the club with us after the race tomorrow max?" charles looked expectantly at his friend.

max let out a sigh, "i suppose i could be persuaded."

"thats the spirit!" charles clapped his hands together, "i'll text you the details mon ami."

a night club? in miami? with max verstappen? this ought to be interesting.

~~

ynuser has posted multiple stories

[story 1: race day let’s go] [story 2: im not crying!! YOU are] [story 3: idk if miami can handle us @.alexandrasaintmleux]

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user16: you crying over lando winning his first race is so real

landonorris: i am crying u r right girl

ynuser: as long as ur not cryin in the club

landonorris: not yet !! but the night is young!!

user22: ok body is tea wtf

alexandrasaintmleux: you’re so beautiful i love you so much

ynuser: YOU are so beautiful. i love you more my girl

yourbff: why are you !! a ferrari!!! crying over a mclaren?!

ynuser: bc it’s lando and we love bob in this house

yourbff: ok yeah fine

user12: miami is NOT ready for your hotness that’s for sure

ianrebeccad: ok i need to borrow that outfit from you asap. also pls get to the club faster im stuck here without you both 🥹

ynuser: you’re the one who wanted to “get ready” with carlos and not us soooooo

user44: i’m foaming at the mouth

maxverstappen1: understandable to cry over me not winning

ynuser: i’m glad you get it 😫

user45: that’s not a face card, that’s a whole face economy

user33: who are these divas?

~~

max could feel the music pounding through his chest as his fellow club goers danced to the beat. feeling all sorts of nerves, he brought his gin and tonic to his lips and took a few big gulps hoping the liquid courage would hit him soon. his eyes couldn’t help but follow you as you swayed your entire body to the music without a care in the world. readjusting the hat on his head, he watched as your skirt inched lower on your hips and he could almost feel his mouth start to water.

“max just go and talk to her!” charles yelled over the music pulling max out of his thoughts.

“i can’t.”

“quoi? what do you mean you can’t?”

“she’s just… i just… i can’t!” max finished off his drink and set it down on the table in front of him. “i mean look at her,” max explains throwing his arms up in exasperation, “she’s so beautiful!! i’m not sure i’d even know what to say.”

“just ask her to dance or to get another drink!” charles looked over to you, alex and rebecca as you danced with carlos and lando.

“i can’t.”

“max - if you don’t i guarantee someone else is going to try and make a move on her.” charles was now staring max down with a scowl on his face, “and i know that would upset you more than just growing some balls and talking to her!”

max frowned, realizing his friend was right. “i’m just scared she won’t like me.”

“i have insider knowledge that says she fancies you.”

max’s eyes widened, “and you didn’t lead with that?”

“no because i wasn’t supposed to tell you!! now please for the love of god let’s go get her.”

max and charles navigated their way through the sea of bodies until they made it to your little group. you looked up at max with a bright smile and he felt the butterflies in his stomach intensify. before he lost all of his nerve, he blurted out “get a drink with me?”

you nodded, “i’d love to!” max smiled and grabbed your hand so that he wouldn’t lose you in the mass of people.

there was very little available space at the bar which left you leaning against the counter and max directly behind you leaning against you so that he could hear the bartender. not a single coherent thought was going through your head, all you could focus on was the way max’s body rested against yours, the warmth it offered you, the way he was resting his strong hands on either side of you and how if you turned you’d be face to face and able to kiss him right on—

max tapped on your shoulder pulling you out of your thoughts and earning a slight jump from you. “the bartender asked what you wanted to drink, y/n” max explained into your ear causing goosebumps to spread like wild fire across your skin.

the bartender was looking at you expectantly, “oh! i’ll take a gin and tonic please!!” you panic ordered not being able to come up with anything else on the spot. “so sorry,” you quickly added as the bartender turned to make your drink. mentally you scolded yourself for not being able to get it together but boy was keeping it together hard when the max verstappen was very much taking up your personal space.

after thanking the bartender for your drinks, max took a step back allowing you to turn and look at him. he was in a pair of his classic skinny jeans, a backwards black cap, a black tshirt that hugged his arms perfectly and he wore a soft smile as he looked down at you with his big blue eyes. “wanna dance?” you asked before taking a gulp of your drink.

max’s grin grew, “absolutely.” you decided not to give him any time to reconsider and instead grabbed his hand and drug him out to the dance floor. you could feel eyes on you both but you didn’t care. “i should likely preface this with the fact that i’m not much of a dancer,” max admitted sheepishly. he was taking note of how close you both were now. you had stopped rather abruptly in the middle of the dance floor leaving him so close to you that he could steal your breath if he really wanted and oh boy did he want to.

you laughed effortlessly, “everyone is a dancer if they try hard enough, max!" The DJ began playing a remix of one of your favorite songs and max watched intently as you began moving to the music. He threw back the remainder of his drink and made quick work of discarding it, feeling more courageous now.

you quickly noticed max was still very much standing completely still. “it’s all in the hips,” you cooed putting your free hand on his hips and pushing him so he would move. max obliged and began swinging his hips back and forth timidly, not having a ton of room to move out at the center of the dance floor. "atta boy!" you praised giving him a smirk.

max almost choked on air at that comment from you — what could he say? he was a sucker for praise and that comment gave him the confidence he needed to place both hands on your hips and pull you in so that your body fit snuggly against his own. max had a feeling that this was going to be a very good night.

~~

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6 and 26,264 others

f1gossip: last night max verstappen and actress y/n y/l/n were seen attending a party with many of the grid members. they seem to have gotten very cozy out on the dance floor sharing quite a few kisses. it’s also reported that the pair were seen leaving together at the end of the night.

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user1: OMG WHAT MY WORLDS COLLIDING

user2: nah he looks so fine in that hat omg

user8: i knew him offering that hot lap had to mean something

user6: they’re both so hot i’m sure their night was … actually imma stop myself before i get banned

user3: this was orchestrated by alex and rebecca i just know it

user8: i could see charles and lando getting in on it too tbh

user4: jealousy doesn’t look pretty on me but dear lord am i jealous

user5: he may have bagged the baddest baddie alive.. how did he manage that in those skinny jeans

user4: listen those skinny jeans make his thighs look real biteable

user5: and you got me there

user9: need more max and y/n content asap

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[starlessnightsblog]

7 minutes in heaven with ...Hyunjin?!

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

18+ | smut | wc: 2.7k

╰─..★.──────────╯

fuck, i shouldn’t of come.

you thought to yourself. you sat on the floor in a dimly lit room in a frat house getting ready to play a game of spin the bottle. your best friend had dragged you out of the dorms, for this? you’d rather be anywhere else right now, especially after making eye contact with him. Hwang Hyunjin.

you two didn’t like each other - that was putting it lightly. He was annoying, arrogant, and everyone worshipped him. you hated that, and he hated you because you didn’t, or at least that’s how it seemed.

after a few spins, the bottle landed on you and …him. your friend laughed, knowing the lore between the two of you, and this round the chosen were to play seven minutes in heaven. was this the demon lord’s doing? someone had to have had it out for you.

you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t wanna cause a scene, you wouldn’t, so you went willingly, Hyunjin leading the way.

after a few minutes, you were already sitting in a cramped closet, very cramped. you were sitting opposite of him, your knees almost touching, though you were trying your best to keep even that from happening. while he looked at you with a cold expression, “well?” he spoke.

you huffed, coming off bored. “i’m not doing anything with you.” disgust laced in your tone, “i’d rather swim with sharks.”

“please,” he scoffed, “it’s not like i want to be here with you either.”

“this is hell.” you sighed.

he smirked, “it’s just 7 minutes.”

“7 minutes too long.”

he leaned over to you, “stop whining. it's gonna pass very quickly.”

you shot him a glare.

“asshole.”

he chuckled at your insult, then proceeded to purposely click his knees to yours.

“calm down. It’s not my fault the bottle fell on you.”

you were clearly not amused with any of this. how he was so calm was beyond your comprehension. you looked up, a warm light hung above, doing little to nothing. he was fidgeting with his rings on his nimble fingers. the shadows casted shaping his perfectly sculpted features whilst loose strands of hair framed his face, his honey skin glistened and lush as ever. it was aggravating how perfect he was.

he must’ve felt you staring because he looked straight up at you. a sly grin appearing on his face.

“are you checking me out, princess?”

fuck. that’s exactly what you were doing.

“no.”

“seemed like it.” he slurred his words, he even sounded hot.

“just because everyone else finds you attractive, doesn’t mean i do.” a lie. “and don’t call me that.”

he tilt his head to the side, brows furrowed and holding his bottom lip between his teeth. he spoke again, his tone deep and low, inching closer on into your side of the closet. your back sank into the wall behind you, you had no where to go. like a mouse caught in the cat’s mouth.

“no need to lie to me. i can see right through you, princess.” he whispered.

your breath caught as he closed the distance between you even more, he was enticing, daunting, was this a test? he rendered you near speechless, your cheeks were burning up, and you hoped he couldn’t tell. you held your ground, wanting to be just as intimidating (failing). though his black eyes were pulling you in further, his expensive cologne clouding your thoughts. you liked all of it, and you couldn’t admit it, or more like, you were choosing not to.

“this is a game for you, im not stupid Hyunjin.” you whispered, your brain felt fuzzy, your eyes hung low, and were draped with lust induced curiosity. your tone not nearly as serious as you words. maybe you even batted your lashes, and stole a glance at his lips, not that.. that meant anything, or whatever.

he smirked once more when you whispered his name. he was enjoying the way you looked at him, your lashes casting shadows that met the blush on your cheeks. he’d gift you the world if you asked him to in this moment, that’s how awestruck he was in your presence. and the way you said his name, he usually only heard insults from you, he knew he was getting somewhere if that wasn’t the case now. he placed his hand on your knee, pushing them down and slowly dragged his hand along your inner thigh, seeing just how far you were gonna let him go.

his eyes were low, focused on his own movements, as you watched, your heart now pounding against your rib cage.

he spoke in a low, calming tone, “im not playing a game. you’re just obvious.”

you scoffed, “and you’re just delusional.”

you attempted to remove his hand with your own, but when your hand met his, something shifted. his hands were much larger than your own, your eyes lingered on them for a moment, they could swallow your own hands whole. you began to wonder how they would feel wrapped around your-

your smile slipped as you came to terms with your situation, locked in a closet with the campus it boy, mr.prince himself. anyone else would kill for this opportunity, not you though, right?

shit.

when he realized you weren’t gonna move his hand, his grip tightened and he edged even closer. he was now sitting between your legs.

he loved the way you couldn’t look away from his eyes now, the way your smile faded. he could see the wheels turning in your head and he held your gaze, but admiring all of you. “if i am, tell me to stop.”

you were able to come up for air for a moment.

“you just want me to fall into your trap.”

and if it was working? then what? but he knew the answer to that, jerk, you thought.

“you’re so use to just getting what you want… i’m not that easy.”

your words were hollow, yet they stung. he held the close proximity anyway, and you didn’t try to change that, rather, your body didn’t, no matter how much your brain fought against it. your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, they looked soft… were they?

he held back a smirk, he noticed your glances, swooned in silence. he knew deep down you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. his hand still rested on your thigh, moving it from time to time to make you feel more and more needy for him. he enjoyed that you weren’t as unaffected as you tried to act. “i know you aren’t. you’re the most difficult person i’ve ever met.”

a truth.

you weren’t begging for his attention like others did, he didn’t want you to. he liked the back and forth, he had to admit. though, he had long coveted for you, you despised him, yet here you two were, and at a mere coincidence. you had him in the palm of your hand and you were all but aware of it. he edged closer, risking it all until his lips were hovering dangerously close to yours.

“Hyunjin….” you whispered, a warning. he was winning, but you were too far gone to do anything about it.

Hyunjin’s breath caught as he heard you say his name in a soft voice. you were driving him insane. he wanted to lean in and kiss you, but he held himself back. he needed to tease you a bit more. “yeah, princess? can’t think of anything to say?” his lips hovered over yours as he spoke.

“you’re the one giving it up so easily.” you gave one last bite with your words, shaking your head while your tone and body gave in.

he could sense it all, how your body and tone completely changed. his body was nearly pressed against yours.

he chuckled against your neck and spoke, “just shut up.” he placed small kisses on your neck and collarbone. His hand went up higher on your thigh until it reached your waist, pulling you into him even more.

you held your breath as his lips hit your skin, your nails found their way into his hair, tugging softly. you whispered his name again, your tone needy and desperate. you mentally scolded yourself, what the fuck was that?

he could hear the desperation in your voice, you needed him and it was clear as a day, his name sounded heavenly out your mouth, he wanted to make you say it over and over again. it made him want to do more, to do so much more. he spoke against your skin in a soft, hungry voice. “princess…”

“kiss me already.” you spoke through gritted teeth.

Hyunjin pulled away from your neck slowly when you spoke out those words. he looked at you for a moment, observing how you looked with your eyes full of lust. he didn’t need to hear you beg twice. he crashed his lips against yours and captured them in a heated, hungry kiss. savoring the feeling, and the taste. you were so delicate and soft. he adored it. his tongue slipped in between your lips as his hands grabbed your waist and pulled you on his lap suddenly, his back hitting the wall.

you let out a soft whine into his mouth as he pulled you on top of him, his strength taking you by surprise.

he smirked at that, melting under your pretty little whimpers. as you straddled him, his hands were firmly on your hips, he began to grind you gently on his, in rhythm with the kiss.

and he held you close, like he would lose you at any second, he couldn’t get enough, both your chests pressed against each other, he could feel how hard it was slowly becoming to breathe.

he wore jeans and you could feel everything, the rough fabric easily getting you off already. this was so fucked, yet you were drowning in all of it. the way he held you, the way his hands were slipping under your shirt to squeeze your skin, how he kissed you like he was starving. you couldn’t help it. your hands cupped his face, deepening the already intense feeling between the two of you. you pressed yourself down against the fabric, growing needy for some type of release.

Hyunjin let out a moan quietly as he broke the kiss. he looked at you, breathing heavily, he spoke in a low, dark voice, “(y/n).” he started to run his hands down your waist and thighs, his touch getting more firm and dominant. his gaze was murderous.

he brought his lips to yours again, meeting for a moment but not connecting. you chased them, meeting his again. he kissed you with, if not more, hunger than the last. this one was more merciful, labored. melting every fiber of your being. neither of you could get enough. he pulled back to breath.

“we should stop…” you breathed.

he chuckled at your comment, he leaned in and placed gentle kisses on your shoulder as he responded. “oh really?” he continued giving you kisses up your neck, till he reached your jawline, he looked up at you and spoke, “still wanna stop?”

he was making this difficult, you couldn’t stay in here. someone was bound to catch you. but you really didn’t want it to end either.

“we’ll get caught pretty boy.” your nails traced up his neck.

he was well aware that someone could catch you, that you shouldn’t be doing this at all, but he couldn’t stop himself. he pulled away from your skin and spoke against your ear, “doors locked, we can be quiet?”

your hands snaked past his neck and down his back, underneath his shirt, he was so warm, you let your nails drag softly on his skin. “are you gonna make sure i stay quiet?” you whispered against his ear, leaving one gentle kiss just below it. you couldn’t believe what you were saying, but it was like word vomit, wether you meant it or not.

a shiver went down his spine as he felt your fingernails on his skin and your lips on his ear. he let out a small “fuck” and closed his eyes. he could feel the fire inside of him igniting more and more as your body was pressed against his, your lips on his skin. he didn’t let you speak once more and instead pushed his lips against yours in a voracious kiss. a moan escaped your lips.

Hyunjin grunted against your lips as you started to grind against him again, his hands that were resting on your hips were now fully grasping your ass, he took control. he was breathing heavily and he broke the kiss for a moment again, he spoke in a hot, low voice, sounding very desperate now, “… you’re driving me insane.”

“oh, so now you wanna stop?” you breathed out, you were almost out of breath from the heated kiss. your hands slid down his chest to his torso, and they landed on his belt. he watched you, studying your every move with an ardent gaze, he bit his lip, he couldn’t believe his eyes, all the times he thought of you, and now here you were sitting on his lap, teasing him. he took a deep breath, wanting this so badly, needing you so badly. he furrowed his brows, he took your hands in his, “are you sure you wanna do this?”

and suddenly, you stopped to think.

all of this was happening so fast, you didn’t even recognize this side of yourself. Hyunjin… the boy who was always such a jerk to you, was gripping your hips and moaning curses in your ear in a tiny closet at some frat house. maybe you shouldn’t do this, what were you thinking? he didn’t actually like you, this was probably another regular friday night for him. he probably wanted this to happen so he could brag about come monday. he’d tell everyone how easy it was, how you were the whore who gave it up to him. but when you looked into his eyes, sincerity was all you could sense. you felt like an idiot, you wouldn’t fall for it, fall for him. none of this was genuine. it’s not like you wanted anything more with him. let alone this.

you were telling yourself anything at this point. but every negative thought seemed like a false one. you were confused.

“i-“ you removed your hands, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear. you removed yourself from his lap suddenly and sat back in your original position, missing his warmth already. “i should go-“

you attempted to stand up, and Hyunjin felt his heart sink as you moved away from him, he reached for you, finding your fingers. “hold up-”

you could only look at him, wanting to cry now.

he was quiet for a few moments as his thoughts were entangled together, not knowing what words to use and how to say it without seeming vulnerable. he wasn’t even sure what he was doing himself. he just knew that he wanted you. he looked up at you, his tone soft, “don’t go.”

typical, you thought.

“that’s it?” you scoffed, “i’m not doing this with you. you don’t even like me outside of here… i won’t be made to look like another whore that got added to your roster.”

you yanked your hand from his grasp and stood up, your hand resting on the door handle.

Hyunjin followed suit, towering over you. your words stung, your assumptions weren’t true, and he could say that, but you wouldn’t believe him. he wasn’t gonna defile you in a frat closet anyway, you deserved so much better.

“i don’t wanna do this here either. let me-“

you didn’t let him finish, “i don’t like you.”

your eyes were soft, your tone shattered. nothing he could say would change your mind now. you hated him, you hated him so much, and yet you were getting lost in his eyes again. they were soft, solicit, lust-filled, and crushed. your eyes trailed down to his lips, the ones just glued to yours mere seconds ago. why couldn’t you think straight? you felt pathetic.

Hyunjin inched closer, wanting nothing more than to touch you again, kiss you again. “i don’t want you like this. let’s get out of here.”

you were hesitant, “don’t-“

and then someone started banging on the door, you unlocked it and stormed out. leaving some very confused guys peering in, and Hyunjin behind.

- end: part 1 ????

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

[scottiexmariee]

Hi~ ok so I have a request for a LAD headcannon. One where u wanna learn a new dance trend thats lowkey pretty spicy and if the boys reject then u say ur gonna go ask someone else (preferably someone they know like Greyson. Jeremiah, Thomas, one of the twins). Thank u so so so much and take all the time in the world

LADS Boys vs. Spicy Tiktok Trend

Characters: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader

Summary: How the boys would react to you threatening to ask someone else to assist with a spicy TikTok trend

Warnings: NSFW. MINORS DNI. Suggestive Content, (Implied Smut), Potential Lumiere spoiler if you aren’t familiar with lore

Wordcount: 2.7k

Masterlist

Note: I had way too much fun with this prompt. This is my own interpretation, so I hope this is what you wanted <3

“Well? What do you think?” You asked, studying Xavier’s face as the video you were showing him looped for the third time. He was next to you on the couch, studying your phone as if it were a foreign object, unable to form a coherent thought about what you were showing him. 

There was a new couple’s dance trend circulating TikTok, and it was top priority to get Xavier on board with doing the trend. It was…a little provocative, to put it mildly. The dance started off innocent, but had a move at the end of it that included a little bit of grinding on your partner. You had absolutely zero intentions of posting it. Truthfully, you just saw an opportunity to rile Xavier up, and you were going to take it. 

By the time the video looped for the fifth time, you waved your hand in front of his face. “Hellooo? Anyone in there?” 

As if snapping out of a trance, Xavier finally blinked. Several times, actually, clearly trying to process whatever the hell you just made him watch. His eyes landed on you, and the poor guy looked like he had no idea where to start with his thoughts. 

“Uhhhhh….” 

“Let me guess,” You began, folding your arms indignantly, “you don’t want to do it,” 

Xavier averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I…don’t know how I feel about recording that.” He finally said, finding a very interesting spot on the floor to stare at. 

You figured he’d say no. Unfortunately for him, you’d planned ahead. You already had your dialogue choices preselected, and now it was time to roll. 

“I’ll just ask Jeremiah, then,” 

Xavier’s eye twitched, but he recovered quickly. He gave your thigh a playful squeeze as he shook his head. “Good luck. He knows better,” His tone was light, but you knew he wasn’t joking. 

He was right. Jeremiah absolutely knew better. In fact, Jeremiah would likely have a panic attack if you even attempted to ask him to do something like that, simply out of fear of Xavier’s wrath. Jeremiah had once been subtly threatened over a completely innocuous conversation, and the deceptive softness in Xavier’s tone when he made the threat nearly had Jeremiah sputtering. (“You have nice teeth. It may be beneficial to find conversation elsewhere.”) Jeremiah didn’t look you in the eye for weeks after that. 

The Jeremiah line, as predicted, was ineffective. With a sigh, you decided to default to your ‘in case of emergency’ tactic. 

You stretched, trying to appear casual, doing your best to prevent a smirk from slipping. “I bet Lumiere would do the trend with me,” 

Any traces of amusement that had been present on Xavier’s face vanished in an instant. The tension in the air thickened as soon as the words left your mouth. Xavier’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening as his eyes locked onto your faux innocent face. The message was clear: you did NOT just say that. 

Truthfully, you hadn’t meant to actually piss him off. However, the thought of Xavier essentially beefing with himself was too good to resist sometimes. You thought he’d gotten over this by now. 

“I’m not sure I heard you correctly,” He said, his tone deceptively calm. If looks could kill, you’d be dead on the floor. This was a warning. He was giving you a chance to backpedal. 

“I’m just saying,” You said, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened with his mood shift. 

“You would prefer to do an indecent trend with Lumiere?” He questioned, his tone still eerily even, despite the clear annoyance in his eyes. You needed to be very careful with your next answer. 

“I would prefer to do the indecent trend with Xavier,” You teased, cupping his face in your hands and giving his head a gentle shake. He softened slightly at the contact. “We don’t even have to post it,” 

He rose from the couch, catching your wrist in the process and pulling you with him. 

“Xavier? Where are we going?” You asked, already knowing the answer. 

“To do the trend,” He responded, his tone much lighter than it was previously. “I’ll do it so Lumiere doesn’t get the chance,

Zayne stared at you with an expression that could only be described as unamused. You had made an attempt to show him the newest couple’s dance trend, quietly tossing in a comment about how you two would ‘look good doing that trend.’ Based on his complete lack of a reaction, you had your answer without him even needing to open his mouth. 

You pulled your phone away, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It’s not that bad,” You said defensively. 

That was a blatant lie. If you tried to shake your ass as hard as the girl in the video you’d just shown him, you’d probably throw out a hip. You, however, were on a mission to spice up things with Zayne a bit, and the new trend was a perfect excuse to make an attempt. 

….it had sounded better in your head. 

“It’s aggressive,” He responded dryly. “I would recommend a psychiatric evaluation if I saw you doing that,”

If you weren’t desperate, his comment would have been hilarious. 

“Guess I’ll wait for the pink slip,” You retorted, leaning back in your chair. “because I’m doing that trend,” 

“It’s a couple’s trend,” Zayne responded, his expression deadpan. “Do you intend on doing it alone?” 

You pursed your lips, searching for an answer. An idea came to mind, and Zayne stiffened upon seeing the flash of mischief in your eyes. 

“I wonder if Greyson would try it with me,” You mused. You had no intentions of actually asking Greyson, you were simply just trying to press buttons now. 

Zayne's eyes narrowed, and it was the closest thing to a reaction you’d gotten out of him so far. He looked almost offended, and you actually started to feel bad. However, the guilt dissipated the second Zayne responded with his ‘professional’ voice. 

“That’s highly inappropriate and unprofessional,” He chided, his brows furrowing as he spoke. “and it would be rather unbecoming of my assistant to participate in something indecent with my significant other.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry. That was a bad joke,” You said, reaching for his hand. He allowed you to grab it, but it did nothing to quell the absolute bewilderment your comment had caused. 

“If you won’t actually do the trend with me, would you be willing to just practice?” You asked, purposefully lowering your voice to ‘bedroom’ tone. 

Zayne’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He was definitely listening. 

“I mean, you could consider that as an exercise, right?” You continued, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “And exercise is good for you, right?” Your tone was borderline teasing now, but it seemed to actually be working. 

“It is,” He responded. “It increases blood flow, reduces the risk of heart disease, can increase dopamine levels—“

You squeezed his hand, giving him the flirtiest look you could muster. 

“Well, Doctor Zayne, could you help me increase my dopamine?” 

His resistance was crumbling quickly. Between that look on your face and the tone of your voice, it was getting harder and harder to deny you. 

Especially when he knew what your real intentions were. 

With a sigh, he softly grabbed your hand and rose from his spot at the table, his initial protests long forgotten. 

“Phone stays on the table,” He warned, just to be safe. 

As he lead you toward the couch, you couldn’t help but giggle. 

Your plan had completely derailed, but in a way, you were still getting what you wanted. 

As soon as you saw the newest couple’s dance trend circulating, you knew that you and Rafayel would absolutely OWN it. 

You could already picture how hot he’d look with some shirt buttons undone, chest *slightly* exposed, swinging his hips with yours in tune to the beat of that catchy song. You two were going to absolutely devour this trend. 

….Well, that was the plan, anyway. 

He was willing to hear you out until he saw examples. By the third video, his ears were very pink, and he was staring at your phone like it had personally offended him. The amused smile he’d sat down with was no longer in the vicinity. 

When he finally found his voice, the protesting was immediate. “Nope. Nuh-uh. Not happening,” He said, shaking his head vigorously and shoving your phone away from him. He wiped his fingers on his pants as if he’d touched something dirty. He then rose from his seat, very obviously about to attempt a swift exit. 

“Raf, please!” You begged, nearly tripping over your chair as you followed after him. You caught his sleeve, tugging him back toward you. He didn’t budge. “We’d look so good. I’ll literally start begging,”

He shook his head vehemently. “I don’t even want to imagine the headlines that would cause. Nooo way, (y/n),” 

“When have you ever cared about what the headlines say?” You protested, giving his sleeve another tug. “Please! It’s just one video! I’ll never ask you to do a trend again!”

“I’ll agree to this when I see sharks driving cars,” He responded, skillfully escaping your desperate grip on his sleeve. He began heading toward the kitchen in an attempt to put as much distance between himself and this conversation as possible. 

Fine. Let’s see how he likes this.  

You retrieved your phone from the table and began typing a phone number. Rafayel paused and looked over his shoulder at the sound of your nails tapping against the screen. 

He fully turned around when you hit the ‘call’ button and raised your phone to your ear. 

“…who are you calling?” He asked, already heading back toward you, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“Thomas,” You replied casually. “If you won’t do it with me, then—“ 

Your phone was confiscated before you could even finish your sentence. Rafayel held your phone above his head, his other hand pressed against your forehead, effectively keeping you an arm’s length away.  Rafayel quickly ended the call before Thomas could pick up as you began to protest. 

“Oh come on!” You cried out, arms flailing as you tried to retrieve your phone from Rafayel’s air jail. 

“Apologize or I’ll swallow it,” He threatened, holding your phone higher above his head. “You can’t call other men or be influenced by dance videos if I eat your phone,”

You stared at him, beyond incredulous. While Rafayel did have a flair for the dramatic, the look on his face alone made you hesitant to call his bluff. 

“You’d rather swallow my phone than do a 10 second trend with me?” 

“You were calling Thomas! What does he have that I don’t?” 

You folded your arms, glaring daggers at the man holding your phone hostage. “I only called Thomas because you refused.”

Rafayel scoffed, his expression nothing short of indignant. “Oh, so you’re just a traitor then? Gooot it. And to think I shared my smoothie with you earlier,” 

“If you don’t like me anymore, just say that,” 

Rafayel’s mouth dropped open upon hearing you use one of his ‘drama queen’ lines against him. He could not believe you had the nerve to use his own words for your own petty gratification. “You—“ 

He sighed, releasing your forehead from his palm. Your phone, however, was still in air jail. 

Rafayel was silent for several moments, and you could almost physically see the gears in his brain working overtime. 

“What if we compromise?” He finally asked, eyes landing directly on your face. 

“Compromise?” 

“I’ll do the trend with you. But you aren’t allowed to post it. Nuh-uh. It’s for our eyes only.” He finally lowered your phone from above his head, keeping it just out of reach as he continued speaking, “and if you post it anyway I will literally put a curse on you.”

You paused, your eyes flitting between Rafayel’s face and the phone that was still firmly in his hand. You considered your options, and after a small internal debate, you decided that this was as good as it was going to get. 

“Okay,” You affirmed, holding out your hand for your phone. “Deal.” 

He smiled, finally handing your phone. 

As the two of you began to walk to the closet to find a change of clothes for the video, Rafayel spun to face you. 

“Also,” He began, “You know how you said you’d never ask me to do a trend again?” 

“Yes?” 

“I’m holding you to that,” 

The day had dragged on. Sylus had spent most of the day holed up in his armory, and the twins were out doing who knows what. Mephisto wasn’t great company either, and his beady little eyes got uncomfortable after a while. You were absolutely consumed by boredom, which lead to you scrolling on TikTok for far too long. 

Right as you were finally about to throw your phone out of pure frustration, your algorithm came in clutch and graced you with a video from this week’s newest dance trend, a suggestive little couple’s dance. You bit your bottom lip, already feeling flushed at the thought of Sylus with his hands all over you like that. 

It was sexy. It was flashy. And it was absolutely the cure for your boredom. 

Your feet were moving before you’d put any thought into it, carrying you straight to the armory. 

You all but crashed through the door. 

“Sylus~” You chirped, zeroing in on him with a shit-eating grin on your face. 

He looked up at you, eyes softening at your expression. 

“Well, don’t you just look delighted,” He drawled, patting his lap for you to have a seat.  “What’s the occasion?” 

As you climbed into his lap, you pulled up the video you’d added to your favorites and held it out for him to watch. He did so without questioning it, but you could see the subtle expression change as he tried to process what he was seeing. 

When the video ended, he returned his gaze to you, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing. 

“Well?” You poked his cheek, searching for any hint of his thoughts in his expression. 

“That was….modest,” He said, his voice laced with a level dry sarcasm that only Sylus was capable of. 

“Will you do it with me?” You asked, getting straight to the point. 

Sylus chuckled, the sound deep, rich, and like music to your ears. As quickly as your hopes rose, they were quickly squashed by his next statement. 

“While I’m flattered that you think I’d be a good candidate for…that,” He began, gesturing toward your phone, “I’m going to have to decline, sweetie.” 

Short, sweet, and to the point. 

“Ugghhh, but I’m so bored!” You whined, tossing your head back in exasperation. 

Sylus watched your mini-tantrum fondly, desperately fighting off a smirk. “If you’re bored, you could always hang out with me in here,” 

You glanced around the room. It was clear that he’d been down here messing with several different weapons, and by the looks of things, he was nowhere near done. 

You loved spending time with Sylus. On any other day, you would have jumped on the offer, just to be near him. Today, however, your boredom had reached its climax and you were certain you would combust if you sat down here and watched him meddle with various weapons. 

With a defeated sigh, you removed yourself from his lap and began sulking toward the door. “I guess I’ll just go find the twins,” 

Truthfully, you hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. You definitely weren’t going to bother them with the trend, but that was definitely how Sylus took it. You heard the distinct sound of a weapon being set down onto the table. 

“No need,” He said gruffly, abandoning his task and rising to his full height. You turned and quirked an eyebrow, not understanding the sudden change of heart. 

He closed the distance between the two of you, looping an arm around your shoulders as he passed. 

“That…’trend’ gave me a better idea for a boredom cure,” He said, leading you out of the armory. 

“Oh? Tell me!” You chirped excitedly. 

Sylus shook his head. “It’s more of a show than a tell,” 

While you didn’t get to do the spicy TikTok trend, Sylus had cured your boredom in a different spicy way. 

You were reeeally thankful for that trend. 

Thank you for interacting <3

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[kneelingshadowsalome]

I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.

Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.

@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!

Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Word count: 5 k oneshot Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3

EDIT: PART 2 HERE

The screams are the worst part.

They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.

Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...

And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.

Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.

Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.

You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.

Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place. 

And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.

Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.

The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.

There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.

So, Theseus is dead...

So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.

Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.

You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.

You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)

And your luck is cursed.

The beast shifts. 

You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.

“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay. 

“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”

He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.

Don’t blow out the candle... 

If you blow it out, you’ll die.

It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages. 

So you still your breath and wait.

Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue. 

And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox. 

The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots. 

The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.

“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom. 

His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.

The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger. 

He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…

“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.

And you believe every word he says.

Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.

A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.

Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?

Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.

“I know.”  

Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.

But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious. 

Why would you say that? 

Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?

The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.

There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion. 

There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass. 

“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.

“...What?”

The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you. 

“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”

His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.

He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.

“You think talking will save you, female?”

He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.

But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.

“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”

“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.

And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile. 

Why would anyone want to stay here?

You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur? 

Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…

“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”

You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you. 

“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”

It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.

And the beast accepts. 

“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly. 

Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.

But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you. 

“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.

“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”

He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.

Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?

“You’ll lead me to my father.” 

His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.

And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears? 

“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”

You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat. 

Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to… 

The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.

And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels. 

Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.

He also wants to touch you.

A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.

He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats. 

You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use. 

Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?

“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want. 

Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man. 

“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”

He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone. 

Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out. 

“Priestess…?” He rasps.

“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”

He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.

“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”

He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand. 

He wants you to guide him to his father. 

To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.

The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.

“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”

“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”

You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years. 

“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”

It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.

If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens. 

“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”

His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you. 

The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.

“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.

The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.

“Sound like a virgin…”

Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.

“Feel like a virgin, too.”

It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is. 

No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.

But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh. 

How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out. 

You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.

And you’ve gone mad, surely. 

You want to touch him too, just to test another theory. 

Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.

He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand. 

And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission. 

Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm. 

If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...

In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be. 

“So do you, Bull of Crete...”

His gaze flickers.

The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.

It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.

He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…

“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”

You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.

“You must promise to be kind to me.”

“Kind...?”

“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”

Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.

“But... You smell like you want to fuck.” 

Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.

“I don’t–How would you know that…?”

The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.

“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to…”

He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.

You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick. 

“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”

The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.

Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...

And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.

“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.

“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.” 

You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.

You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.

“Lead the way, maiden.”

[nativegirltapes]

trailerpark!mom!reader was just trying to go out to her favorite local bar when she met drew ........

warnings: i don’t think obx is actually filmed in outer banks but for this fic yes it is. this is basically just lots of dialogue but i’m just trying to fill in tp!mom!reader and drew’s lore. drew being tipsy + corniness & cliches

"we are getting fucked up tonight." your bestfriend shouted. it was thursday, which meant it was 'going out' night. your baby was safe with your sister, and you were in the passenger seat of your bestfriend's 2009 honda civic adjusting final touches to your makeup in the vanity mirror. "i fucking hope so. jason has been blowing up my phone all week, threatening to come steal baby." you applied another layer of lipgloss.

"are you fucking serious?" aubrey questioned, looking at you with loving eyes. even though you brought the topic up so casually, she knew it hurt you. "i love you." she branched her arms out over the car console, you accepted her embrace. "now let's get fucked up!" she gave you a kiss on your head. no one had ever made you feel as loved as she did.

ᡣ𐭩˙⋆.˚

"sorry ladies," your usual bouncer stopped you and aubrey, "bars closed tonight. some cast rented it out."

"what?" you realized he wasn't joking. "what cast?" you furrowed your brows, wondering who the fuck would rent out a bar in the middle of nowhere, north carolina. "don't know, some show that's filmed here though."

"you can't just let us in?" you bestfriend proposed. "we know we're you're favorite. cmonnnn." the bouncer giggled, you guys definitely were his favorite, but unfortunately he wouldn't budge. "i wish there was something i could do. sorry girls."

"it's okay." you sighed, grabbing aubrey by her arm and dragging her to the side. she was one to cause a scene and you weren't in the mood to deal with that right now. "this is bullshit." she groaned. "i bet they're rich. rich people always ruining some shit for normal people like us." she circled around you. "can't even enjoy our thursday night anymore."

"it's okay, we can go somewhere else."

"you wanna get in?" an unfamiliar voice interrupted, before you could yank aubrey back to the car. both of you jolting your heads towards the voice. it was a tall pale man, a lit cigarette hung from his lips.

"yeah, can you get us in?" aubrey took no time taking up the offer, interrupting the prolonged eye contact you were sharing with this guy; he was cute and that was hard to find around here. "this way." he tossed his unfinished cigarette in the floor and stomped on it.

"thank you." you said as he held the door for you. as soon as you entered the bar you realized that maybe you really didn't belong there. thursday's usually had a solid crowd, and a familiar one at that. but there wasn't one familiar face aside from yours or your bestfriend's. "shit." you mumbled under your breath, the guy who let you in now long gone, entertaining a group of who you assumed were his friends.

finding a seat at the bar with aubrey, you asked the bartender what the deal was, "so, what's going on?" he poured you your usual. "some netflix cast rented out the bar for the night. outer banks or something?"

“oh, i’ve heard that show.” you replied, trying your best to discreetly look around, seeing if you seen any famous faces from tv, although you didn’t watch much tv. “i didn’t think they actually filmed that here?”

“me neither,” the bartender agreed, before leaving you and aubrey to tend to another person.

you watched as people danced, they all seemed well bonded, almost like family. you giggled at them, hoping one day you’d find a bond like that. you spotted the guy who had let you in, he danced pretty okay for a white guy. “should we dance?” you turned back to aubrey, practically shouting over the loud music.

“why are you even asking?” aubrey laughed, you knew her better than to ask if she wanted to dance, she was always down to dance.

you both danced together as ‘yeah!’ by usher played over the speakers, before you both had roaming hands all over you. you felt big hands wrap around lower stomach, “was hoping i’d come across you again.” a somewhat familiar voice whispered in your ear. you kept your back and ass to him, but turned your head to see his face, selfishly hoping it was the man who’d let you in, relief washed over you when you realized it was. “i was thinking the same thing.” you flirted.

“oh yeah?” he whispered in your ear again. the way he had lean down to reach your ear had your stomach doing flips. “why’s that?” you noticed his breath smelled of liquor and mint.

“i wanted to thank you again.” you answered, pushing your ass even closer to his crotch. flirting with men at the bar definitely was not foreign to you. “you don’t have to thank me. anyone would have let a pretty girl like you in.” he spun you around so you were facing him. “there’s that face.” he smiled, his bloodshot and droopy eyes staring down at you like you were the only girl to ever exist. this felt too intimate for your liking.

“so, why’re you here?” you grabbed his hands from your waist, just holding them with your own, you both still feeling the rhythm of the music playing. “you’re famous or something?”

“something like that i guess.” he shrugged, like he didn’t really want to talk about it. “why are you here?”

“i live here.” you said confused, wondering if he has expected a different answer. “i don’t want to sound like a creep, but you’re like, insanely beautiful.” his lips grazed your ear as he whispered to you. you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or if he actually meant it, but nonetheless you were flattered. a sexy— famous guy saying you were insanely beautiful?

“thank you.” you blushed, pulling your jean skirt down. usually you were good at playing a man’s game but this time felt different. this time felt like something could actually come from this and you hated it.

after some more ramble jamble on the dance floor, the mysterious man asked if you wanted to go outside. “wanna step outside for a minute with me?” he extended his hand, you accepted.

you watched as he lit a cigarette. it seemed like every ounce of outgoingness left your body, you loved talking to and entertaining men, but he just made you flat out nervous. “so you’re from around here?” he offered you a swig of his cig, you declined.

“yeah, just down the street. me and my bestfriend come here every thursday.” you watched his lips as he took a swig, the way his eyebrows furrowed from the smoke was hot. you hated people who smoked but there you were getting turned on over it.

“sorry about that again. i seen the whole fiasco with the bouncer.” he looked down at you. “i mean it’s not your fault.” you reassured him.

“sorry i never asked. what’s your name?” his voice seemed so much deeper and clear now that you two were outside, almost like he was fully sober. it made you question how drunk he actually was, and how much of what you told you he actually meant. “y/n!”

“i’m drew.” he held his hand out, you shook it. his hands was so much bigger than yours. matter of fact, everything about him was so much bigger than you.

before you could question drew and his ‘famousness’ any further you heard his group yelling his name. they were all getting into a limo. how famous were these people? they needed a limo? but you couldn’t recognize literally any of their faces? “i guess that’s me.” drew again, flicked his unfinished cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. “what’s your number y/n?” he pulled out his phone and pulled up the keypad.

you swiftly put in your number and called yourself. you never gave your phone number away to the men you entertained, it was your own personal rule you set for yourself. but something about this one was different and you just couldn’t say no. “i’ll see you around y/n.”

[ozzgin]

Yandere!School Q&A 2

Answering some of the questions involving the Yandere School universe. Gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW/suggestive in parts.

Just curious, is there a difference between men and women in the yandere/darling academy?

Not at all. In theory, there could be a difference in uniforms, as seen from the occasional depiction of skirts, but that's really up to the student. As in, they can wear either, regardless of gender.

When it comes to you, on the other hand...I feel like they'd either ask you to wear pants, or heavily reinforced skirts. Too many creepshots and perverted attempts otherwise.

I know the yandere school verse is meant to be silly but I’m genuinely invested in the lore and worldbuilding now. What classes are taught in both schools? Do the darlings resent the yanderes? WOULD THEY BEAT THE YANDERE STUDENT’S ASS IF THEY GOT FOUND OUT??? SO MANY QUESTIONS SMFKEDKK

To be honest, I still haven't considered all the logistics!

I'm imagining a mix of both when it comes to classes: you have yandere-specific courses, and then general subjects with some practical applications. Obviously you can't do without mathematics, for example. If you don't understand double integrals, how will you determine the area you need to cover to reach your Darling who's running for the hills?

Also, I don't think the Darlings would be too upset. After all, they are studying solely to find themselves a yandere one day. What is a little baffling is that out of all the damn darlings in school, this guy ends up chasing after a ‘yandere’ student.

One of the Yanderes at Yandere Academy is bound to be a Platonic, and they're probably going insane watching every student and teacher going after the school Darling. Do you think they'd be on the staff or a fellow student?

There's plenty of platonic yanderes, both among the students and teaching staff. They make up the security brigade, ensuring your safety and keeping dangers away. If other students let their infatuation go overboard, they will be quick to correct it.

In fact, this is where their yandere skills shine most. Taking care of you.

Ohh what about yan art teacher using reader as the model for nude portraits in class?

That'd be like opening Pandora's box. What's to guarantee that the students won't go feral? Even as a regular model, removing any article of clothing within the artistic depictions is strictly forbidden. The other teachers already have to sort through stacks of confiscated fanart involving you, they don't need a boost in lewd creations.

Unless you mean a private encounter with Yan!Art Teacher for some extra credit. That's a whole different story. 👀

for your yandere school au if I was in readers situation, and I got a free full?? scholarship?/ to a fancy school?/? I no longer need to go along with family tradition I’m getting that free scholarship it’s not like I particularly needed a bunch of people to stalk me 🤷

I'm kind of hoping that Yandere School comes with a full scholarship, too. Bonus points if they offer legacy benefits. Reader comes from several generations of graduates, after all.

Not to mention, you already have a bunch of people stalking you, if we are to count the yandere family members. You'll feel right at home.

The darling is christian in some other scenarios right? What if in sex ed class, she said that she would only do that if she got married? Imagine every single yanderes trying to be a good husband material but the darling is so damn clueless about it

I don't think the religion was ever specified, but you're free to imagine it however you'd like, anon. I can definitely picture the yandere students perking their ears at such statement and taking it as a challenge. You want to wait until marriage? Then they’ll bring the marriage over right now. You have to wonder if there’s some current fashion trend you’re unaware of, as every student has asked for your opinion in rings. You’d assumed it’s a question involving their own, personal acquisitions, so now there’s a bunch of classmates fighting outside because they all got different answers and clearly only one of them holds truth.

That one teacher who got all those accidental smut submissions about Y/N is gonna be feasting tonight

I suspect most teachers have a neatly organized storage full of content involving you. Whether it's accidental submissions, confiscated doodles, illegal photos and so on. Hell, they probably trade the stuff like collectibles.

"You got the fic I asked for?" one teacher asks lowly, resting against the wall.

"Uh huh."

Another teacher swipes through a thick folder with the efficacy of someone who does this too often.

Imagine yandere school y/n slips up and accidently calls a teacher mom/dad. Or worse (or perhaps better depending on who it is), mommy/daddy. y/n is embarrassed, yandere students are jealous, and teacher is now horny.

Terrifying affair. The teacher will have to evade weeks, maybe even months of assassination attempts coming from the students and parents. Reader probably joked about it at the dinner table once, and the mom/dad has been spiraling ever since. How could such a mistake happen? Have they neglected their darling child?

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” one student will stutter, terrified to find Reader’s parent behind them.

“I’d say it’s pretty obvious, you’re doing a terrible job. Hand me the binoculars”, they demand in a whisper, glaring at the object of their envious stalking: the teacher.

How would the readers parents/fam react if the reader complained about the school staff or a student? [Gym teacher dress coding reader] With this as personally speaking I would be really annoyed. The yan family could also take it as an insult because I know for a fact they make sure the reader has all the best stuff. As well how they're bothering or unfairly treating the reader. And if the yan fam connects that the school is yan (students and staff) they would FLIP OUT. But that's out of the point

I’d say it depends on their relationship. Remember, Reader’s parents are graduates of Yandere School, so it’s entirely possible they were taught by the very same teachers and staff. Thus, they might be reluctant to question their authority.

“You have to understand, I had my best intentions in mind”, gym teacher will explain to the parents with a solemn face.

“No, you’re right. We’ve seen the way those kids look at our (Y/N). Who knows what perverted thoughts linger in their mind?”

The grey-haired man dabs a handkerchief across his forehead, visibly paler.

“E-exactly. It was all to protect (Y/N) from any indecent, uh, risks.”

Gym teacher prob got a forest downstairs

Only one way to find out. Better put on your adventurer's hat! 👅

Okay but like, the poor principal having to deal with the entire Yan!academy

He probably stares in the mirror every morning, noticing yet another grey hair, or that his eyebags have gotten worse. He's going to need an early retirement. "I tried my best", he mumbles to the portraits of the previous principals.

How would the yandere school react to reader being hypersexual? P.s can I be raccoon 🦝 anon? [I'm afraid you'll have to pick a different emoji, anon, as raccoon is already taken]

I mean, I can totally picture a playboy/playgirl kind of Reader who skips class to smooch one of the students in a storage room. Or Reader getting too flustered and excited and begging one of the teachers for "help" after school. I'm sure most would comply without hesitation.

Though you may have to deal with a horde of jealous partners who don't like to share. Next thing you know, you have to compile a sexy time chart and schedule the smooching to fit everyone in.

hai ! this is related to yandere school, i’m curious to know what if reader decided to accept the scholarship to darling academy? like i can imagine readers parents worried and proud while clumsy yandere is absolutely celebrating abt it :D

Knowing Reader’s luck and Clumsy!Yandere’s misfortune, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more yandere students lurking the Darling Academy grounds. Or even worse, some darlings begin to develop intense feelings for Reader. Worry not, your clumsy best friend will always come to your rescue.

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

I’m gonna write this down now so I can look like an absolute genius later (or look like a clown, but at least I said it with my full chest!)

❌ Spoilers for the FNAF Movie below! ❌

Ok, I might be huffing hopium here, but in my heart of hearts I STILL think Mike Schmidt is Mike Afton. If (or when) they make a sequel, there’s a way they can reveal this

So the most obvious thing from this movie is when Mike is in “Steve’s” office, and when “Steve” is reading Mike’s name out loud from his résumé, he stops mid-sentence. He looks at Mike for a weird amount of time, almost studying him, before completely changing the subject. There’s no way in hell “Steve” recognizes Mike from when he saw him as a kid when he kidnapped his brother Garrett 10+ ago, no chance. Also why would he go to Nebraska (unclear where the movie takes place, but let’s assume Utah because of the books) to kidnap a random kid and just drive off? Here’s what I think is going on…(also I’m gonna call him William from now on cuz we all know lol)

William fingered out that Mike is his son during that interview. My theory is that at some point, William was married and him and his wife have a son named Mike. And for one reason or another, they got divorced. This is when Mike was too young to really remember which is why he doesn’t recognize William during their meeting. Mike’s mom gains custody of Mike and remarries, she marries Mr. Schmidt. They have a child together, Garrett. Sometime after the divorce, William adopts a child, trying to cope after losing his only son. He adopts Vanessa.

William finds out about his ex-wife having another kid. He wants to cause her pain and suffering for leaving him. He follows the Schmidt’s and takes Garrett during the camping trip. Unable to handle the pain, Mike’s mom takes her own life, leaving Mike and his stepdad. Mr. Schmidt marries a little later to another woman, and she has a daughter named Abby. Sometime after this, both Mr. Schmidt and his new wife die, leaving Mike to care for Abby.

Vanessa owed William so much, he had adopted her while she had suffered in an orphanage for years. She would do anything he told her, even if it meant covering up his crimes. Years later, realizing what she was doing was wrong, she left her father and became a police officer, hoping to stop people like her father as she had failed to stop him.

Here’s another thing. Scott Cawthon knows that the fans are obsessed with the lore of FNAF. I think he knew he could make more movies, this isn’t going to be a one and done deal. Plus, he had his hand on this project every step of the way, he wouldn’t agree to anything that he didn’t want to happen in the story. Mike being William’s some is CRUCIAL to the story of FNAF (at least in the games). I think he’s trying to fake us out, you know how he loves to troll the fans!

Again, this is just a theory (A GAME THEORY lol), but I don’t think the idea of Mike being an Afton is dead just yet. Hoping and praying so I can look incredibly smart if or when the sequel drops 🙏🏻

[choerypetal]

Under the table / Dean Winchester

summary: Dean and your relationship had been lacking a bit of spice. So, you made a deal between the two of you, amidst the teasing and perhaps a punishment or two, to reignite the excitement.

ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any little grammar errors

warning; very nsfw no plot hihi

enjoy! xo

Dean was the first to boldly admit to injecting some excitement into the relationship. Whether it was in the car or at the motel, he wasn't shy about spicing things up.

One day, as the two boys delved earnestly into another case's lore, Sam meticulously recounted every detail while Dean casually munched on his lunch. Yet, amidst their focus, Dean couldn't shake the thought of your whereabouts.

The excuse? You had informed Sam that you were out getting groceries, hoping to experiment with a new recipe you'd caught on a TV program. Tired of the usual pasta, bread, and beer that seemed to dominate the brothers' menu lately, you wanted to add something special to the mix.

"She better not make us something healthy," Dean's voice reached you just as you managed to slip under the table earlier undetected. Sam responded with a casual "Mhm," accompanied by a chuckle. Little did Dean know, you were right there with them, setting the stage for a playful tease the next time he wished to spend the night together. If only he knew tonight's menu was, in fact, healthier. You couldn't help but smile, knowing you couldn't laugh and risk giving yourself away.

Fortunately, Dean had taken a seat directly across from you, his familiar shoes and jeans catching your eye. Little did he know, he wasn't prepared for the surprise awaiting him, especially since your absence had been unmistakable.

"You know, maybe we can bring Charlie along," Dean suggested as your name came up once again in discussions about joining the boys on this mission. It was mentioned that your favorite creature was in town, and Dean couldn't bear the thought of you missing out on the action and the chance for a kill or two. Those thoughtful gestures made you blush, prompting a moment of hesitation before Sam and Dean refocused on reading more lore about the case.

Your hand delicately brushed against his bulge, causing Dean's muscles to tense, followed by a cough. You'd do anything to witness his reaction, especially when Sam inquired if he was alright. It was clear you were in for some punishment later tonight as Dean felt your familiar touch, gradually unzipping his jeans, the bulge now more pronounced. "Just a slight sore throat, that's all," he quickly dismissed.

You couldn't help but relish every moment, watching Dean struggle with excuses, particularly when it involved having a bit more fun. What you didn't realize was that even if he knew it was you all along, he didn't want you to get caught, let alone feel embarrassed as if you were fulfilling his desires. "Oh, sweet mother," he cursed under his breath, his back arching slightly as he covered his mouth before brushing it away.

Your hand then tenderly caressed his shaft, fingers deftly moving his boxer out of the way, unveiling his hardened cock. Lust danced in your eyes as warmth flushed your cheeks, leaning in to press a few kisses on its tip, where obvious pre-cum glistened. You delicately picked some on your fingers and licked the remaining. How Dean, cursed himself. When he yearned to thrust his hips the moment he felt your mouth envelopped his cock.

Dean's voice clearly heightened Sam's concern as he observed the redness on his brother's cheeks. Being the caring and protective sibling he was, Sam couldn't help but rise to his feet and check on Dean's potential fever. "I'll need to take Baby and head to the pharmacy anyways," Dean played along, going along with the idea, which meant more time to plan your punishment in return. "It won't be long," Sam said, grabbing his jacket and Dean's car keys before the sound of the vehicle faded away from the Bunker.

Alone at last, Dean removed the table curtain, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he leaned down to cup your face, devouring your lips hungrily. "Did you think I'd let you off that easily?" His voice was husky as he swiftly discarded his pants. Before you knew it, his fingers were tangled in your hair, guiding you to take him deeper. As you wrapped your lips around his cock, his moans grew louder, punctuated by your name. Leaning back in his chair, head thrown back and eyes closed, he urged you on. "Don't stop, love."

Your gaze met his, a look that undeniably ignited his desire, yet he knew he had to resist the urge to devour you right there on the table. It was a punishment he was more than willing to uphold.

"There, just like that," he murmured as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his shaft. Just as you were about to bring him to climax, your hand took over, stroking his cock. You felt his legs tense and his muscles contract as he reached orgasm. When his eyes reopened, Dean couldn't help but admire the sight before him. He knew your arousal was growing, how you longed for him to take you in his lap, but you both understood that you weren't getting off that easily.

"Nah, not yet, sweetheart," his voice grew huskier, his eyes darkening with desire. His fingers tightened around your waist, pulling you out from under the table. Your skirt rode up your thighs, revealing your obvious arousal through showing a glimpse of your damp underwear, his gaze inevitably drawn there. With a sly smirk, he knew it was payback time. "No touching until tonight—"

The door swung open, revealing Sam's incredulous expression. He was clearly disgusted to learn that the whole fever act was not just to save your skin, but also Dean's. "Under the table, really?!" To your surprise, instead of the expected look of disgust, there was almost a look of disapproval on his face.

"A room isn't enough?" Despite feeling a twinge of sympathy for him, you and Dean couldn't help but chuckle. In fact, Dean wore a proud expression and shrugged off his brother's comment. "What about dinner?" Sam then interjected, redirecting your attention from Dean’s.

"I went an hour ago," you said with a smirk. What Dean didn't realize was that it was actually going to be a healthy dinner. When you mentioned this, you could hear Sam's chuckle, a bit of payback in his amusement, while Dean's brow furrowed and he pouted. "One point from you for not returning the favor," you added, leaning in to peck his lips, eliciting a protest from Dean.

[kinardsevan]

even with the rhetoric being put out in the article, maybe i'm living in a pink cloud right now (not maybe, i definitely am), i am over here with the mindset that this is not the end. i have zero problem believing that these articles are fully intended to sew seeds of doubt for us because of course they are. the couple broke up. lou is not a main cast member at this point. we know this man does not want to give spoilers (as he's referenced for us before, specifically with how we were given the access hollywood interview). to that end, mentioning that he has other jobs on the docket also doesn't surprise me. given that he's not a main for 911, he needs more forms of income than just that, obviously. but also, SWAT is ending after this season, and they're also halfway through the season (roughly) for filming.

to that end, i think with the way things have been teed up with the show, this is far too easy to do the breakup AND have lou just be gone. we have far too many lines that lead in the direction of it, including:

"my boyfriend" being said ONE episode before "its beautiful having a crew like this" "ESPECIALLY when everything goes wrong" (i know i'm butchering the lines) "transformative until you" (again, i'm butchering this) -buck's continued determination to not just let this relationship fall by the wayside. I think if we all truly thought that there would be a long-term version of this relationship WITHOUT having to face this hurdle, we'd be fooling ourselves. oliver literally told us that buck would have a deeper understanding of his bisexuality. he doesn't want anyone else. i have zero issue believing that all of this is intentional angst put onto us as a fandom (alá Sheldon/Amy in TBBT) to bring around the point that Buck has always just "let" things happen in his relationships. if we're truly meant to understand that this relationship is different, this breakup tees that up in a prime way (even though i know a whole bunch of the squad wants Tommy chasing Buck).

again, with the teeing up of so much information (moving more toward Tommy lore, etc), storywise, this does make sense. (also, peep the relation to a romcom timeline by @sugdenlovesdingle here.

that all said...maybe i'm wrong. maybe i'm going to fall on my face with this hope and we're all truly fucked.

but i seriously hope not.

[theoxenfree]

NIGHTFALL

elk god x ranger!reader | wc; 759

no one dared to question why you chose the night shift; it was simply superstition that it was better not to ask. but, you were always in good company.

warnings; brief mentions of gore, ritualistic/cultish stuff, some lore things that may be confusing if you aren't aware of the series, roughly proofread

repost from 2kmps ➔ theoxenfree. would love to know if you guys would be interested in a full story!

No one dared to ask questions of you when you had volunteered to take up the lonesome night shift at the ranger��s station.

Workplace superstition wasn’t one to discriminate, whether that meant you were tweaking a bullet out of someone's chest in the operating room; sterile gowns splattered with carmine like a rorschach inkblot, adrenaline dampening the noise in the room while the surgeons honed into that sweet spot of impenetrable focus, or you were reclined in a creaky wooden chair, prodding agitatedly at your phone screen with a thumb because the service had turned to shit for the fifth time that night.

The reason why you were so adamant to burden the staggering quietness of the Atticus Forest behind aluminum walls that'd amplify the whispering winds and long claws of trees’ appendages trying to gain purchase into the metal went unchallenged, incurious—if no one knew why, they would be spared of knowing about you, bonding with you, catching your eye and expected to act in sympathy if you were to ever change your mind about the arrangement.

You, however, used the cover of nightfall, the endless shroud of darkness produced from a sprawling canopy of lush treetops to roam freely, uninhibited by the daytime shuffle of campers and hikers and other rangers scouting the trails for no-good-doers.

Every night you wandered out some ways from the station, somewhat nettled by the fact you were leashed from going far from the radio, needing to standby in case of contact, and whistled tunefully. It was a sweet sound that aroused the owls and sleeping doves, sometimes the tree frogs would chirp after you, suddenly turning the vast, placid place into a euphony of colorful sounds.

Only when the forest was at its noisiest did he come out from hiding. He did not know shame or fear of the sun, nor quail at the concept of walking among humans, but he preferred to share the forest with the untamed creatures and your company alone.

“Orruth,” you greeted the lumbering thing as he came away from the trees; the gray of his skin, and gleaming white elk skull were a seamless blend in the inky black all around. “Are you in the mood to walk tonight?”

He did not speak any human tongue, not any that you were aware of at any rate. You were no linguist, but the things he said couldn’t have been mistaken as latin nor some other dead language from forgotten empires and cultures buried by concrete and gentrification. They were guttural, strong echoes that anchored you with awe, overwhelmed by power, the unfathomable words of an ancient who always tried so desperately to converse with you. There could never be a middle-ground between what he said and what you understood because you were never meant to know.

So, he whined instead, lowered his hulking form close to the ground for you to reach his face. You felt the fissures in his long nose, how dry and brittle the bone felt under your fingertips and observed the glowing pupils within hollow sockets staring back at you. Apart from his arms and legs, which were long, sinewy, and gray, his head floated mysteriously by a thick vapor you had ever shied from touching and he seemed to not want you to touch.

“I heard a complaint about a fire about eight kilometers away. I'm hoping it's just a few campers thinking they're above the law of the land, but we can never be too sure.” You explained this while he tucked the flat bone of his nose into your chest, mindful of the sprawl of his antlers as you adjusted to petting him around the eye sockets. “We keep finding animals—gored, disemboweled, almost ritualistically at some campsites. If your old followers keep this up, they may try to ban people from camping out here at all.”

He would probably like that, you thought in hindsight once he had had his fill and pulled away from you. In his own tongue, he tried to say something else. It remained indecipherable to you, but you could have from how he nearly flattened his body to the ground that he was offering you a ride.

“Just try not to throw me into a bunch of tree branches again, yeah?” you sat on the broad shelf of one of his shoulders, arms wound in the network of forks and beams of his antlers as he rose to full height, walking onward off the trail and through the trees towards distant piles of smoke.

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire Masterlist

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Years after the world fell apart, various communities have established themselves, one of which is ran by four men who claim to be divine.

When they decide it's time to and heir to be born, they chose a virgin from their cult and make her their wife. Reader is offered a choice, of course. She doesn't have to marry them. But if she doesn't, the savior won't be born. She choses to become the Madonna. She is wed to all four of them, and moved into their home where her body is open to use whenever her husbands desire (free use au), in the hopes of getting her pregnant. It doesn't matter whose baby it ends up being, because they are all part God, so it doesn't matter... right?

Warnings for full fic, if anything is added or really emphcized it will be in additional warnings.

THIS IS A DARK FIC THOUGH SO BE WARY! I CAN'T PROTECT AGAINST EVERYTHING.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Unknown amount of chapters right now.

Chapter 1: Pilot: Delta finds their Madonna Chapter 2: The wedding Chapter 3: Aftermath of the wedding FishBen: Symptom of Being Human Chapter 4: Pope is not pleased. Chapter 5: Jonah lore, Madonna gets through to Frankie Chapter 6: Madonna gains Frankie's heart, Santi is jealous Iris: Rey and Iris find pockets of time Chapter 7: Fun with Ben: wining Pope back Chapter 8: big announcement to the community

Non canon Frankie Madonna Chapter 9: Madonna’s blissful ignorance to the world around her. Chapter 10: There's a lot Madonna doesn't know.

Chapter 11: Things start to crumble around Madonna

Chapter 12: It's all too much for Madonna

Chapter 1 3: Santiago’s true colors come out

Chapter 14: Jonah tries to show the truth

Chapter 15: madonna begins to learn her power

Chapter 16: Frankie and Ben reflect

Chapter 17: Ben shows his true colors

Chapter 18: Iris makes her stand

Chapter 19:

Chapter 20:

Bonus Content

not necessary for the series. Pieces in the main list are suggested as they add depth and sometimes small plot points.

"Can you peel my orange?" Jonah smut

Jonah Hanson character ai

ROF characters Star signs

Jonah x non-Madonna reader x Marcus flashback commission

Art

By @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

By @survivingandenduring

Lil comic by @my-secret-shame

As I said, a lot of themes and dynamics ended up accidentally similarly to Watch Your Step by the amazing @charnelhouse Some was because that fic is what developed my characterizations of the boys. Some was totally incidental, like Pope and readers relation to art. It's different though, a much different series, but I wanted to tell y'all that she s PUBLISHING WYS AS A NOVEL NOW, Its called Cardinal Sin's and I'll link it right here!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

THANK YOU FOR YOU'RE SUPPORT!

Please remember to reblog, and I love comments/asks, anon or not, and would love to see engagement and theories!

[genericpuff]

You probably don't want to talk about 'Kaos' anymore so you don't need to respond to this, I just want to tell my thoughts

At first I thought that "Hades and Persephone love each other", "Demeter is a helicopter mom" and the famous "Hades is misunderstood and the least bad of his brothers" 🙄 good thing I was too shy to say those thoughts on the internet

Ironically, thanks to "Lore Olympus" I realized the altered perception that almost everyone has about this couple and poor Demeter (now she is my favorite goddess ♥️). The clearest example is that pretentious webcomic.

When I saw the HxP version of 'Kaos'... I liked it

I feel like it's because I don't really see them as Hades and Persephone, I just see an old couple who genuinely love, respect and support each other and not a bastardization that only exists to fulfill a twisted fantasy (*Cough* LO *cough*)

I've only seen up to the beginning of chapter 6, but so far I like this version of Hades, he's not a hypocrite who feels superior to Zeus, he genuinely cares about his family, he doesn't want Zeus' pride to destroy it and tries to warn him and that went very wrong 😞

Well, that's all I wanted to say, bye 👋

I actually don't mind talking about Kaos at all, it was a great watch!!!

I was a little sigh when Persephone was like "ACTUALLY I went down WILLINGLY" but I'm glad at least that so far that it was more so just a brief, inconsequential mention and nothing that seemed to imply toxicity between her and Demeter. That said, there's still clearly meant to be a second season (whether it gets renewed is a whole other issue) so I'm reeeeallly hoping it doesn't go "haha psych!" and pull the rug out from under me with Demeter slander, but we'll see.

Again, thankfully it wasn't too major of an inclusion that it doesn't ruin the overall presentation of H x P in the show, the casting is genius (I hadn't even realized at first the actor portraying Hades was David Thewlis until my husband pointed it out and that made me love him even more hahaha) and the dynamic between Persephone and Hades is very fun as they're both clearly on the same playing field in terms of age and life experience, Persephone never seems like she's just an accessory to Hades and if anything it's Persephone who's often having to run the show (but it doesn't ever put Hades down either, he's just overworked and tired and his wife is trying to make him do self-care aahah)

And yeah, I mentioned this in a previous unrelated ask but I really feel like there's too much focus around teenagers / young couples / May-December couples (i.e. "old guy x young girl") in a lot of romance these days so seeing Kaos' depiction of H x P as a middle-aged couple who are clearly in love but also have a lot of burdens between themselves and their responsibilities was very refreshing and needed. I know a lot of romances are centered around younger couples because then they can play on the whole dramatic, "whirlwind romance" trope, but people older than 40 can have great romance stories too! And frankly considering how many romances are centered around the "first love" couples who are just constantly making out / flirting / having sex / etc., it's weirdly fun to watch a couple who are clearly past that puppy love stage and are now just working together as a unit the way experienced couples would. The love has moved past the short-term excitement of kissing and sex and moved into the long-term strength of simply committing yourself to another person and tackling life's problems together.

That's not to say that young couples can't be depicted in that way, either, but again, a lot of it often gets thrown to the wayside in favor of the more "exciting" stuff like the "will they won't they" trope and the love triangles and moments of "firsts". Ironically, those moments of "firsts" aren't so special when every romantic couple in media is having them 💀😆

Sooo yeah! Hades and Persephone in Kaos are very fun and endearing to watch, they genuinely feel like two people committed to both each other and their responsibilities as rulers of the Underworld and it shows in both their actions and how they behave together while standing against Zeus. I really hope that it gets a second season, and that whatever is contained within doesn't fall into the same "Demeter was the villain" shtick. I don't see what's so difficult about having Persephone choose to go to the Underworld without it being at the expense of her mother, it's wild how so many stories can't seem to play to both sides of the myths.

[diardri]

Dia's FFXIV Art Reference Notes, A possibly long post

Hello! I made this as a thread on my twitter but I might as well post a version of it here. For the record this will be a thread linking to the resources I use when drawing commissions or fanart, I have not made Any of these and whenever I can I will note the creators and link directly to their resources.

GPose Reference First and foremost, if you're drawing a WOL or ordering a commission of your WOL the most important thing is to take a proper reference GPOSE. I use the method in this post, to make sure I got all the angles. Clean refs are super important when drawing armor/intricate outfits so take care to take simple standing poses like the one in the tweet above. Cool dynamic poses might be fun but they're not really useful for referencing.

Gear/Weapon Reference

If you need good references for a weapon/outfit that you don't have a GPOSE for, I recommend using the attire website

This is a japanese website maintained by @/chiyo_asa on twitter and if you've ever looked up a piece of gear in the lodestone you've almost definitely come across their pictures.

This is a super rough translation in english of the menu of the website. While it is in Japanese it's very easy to navigate and all the pictures in the site are super high quality and very useful for referencing.

This is my number one source for gear references I haven't taken myself

The "mirapuri" button afaik is for glams they made themselves that they want to showcase.

An important note about this site specifically is that I believe it's currently undergoing an overhaul so Some weapons/gearsets might not be completely transferred in yet.

That being said, the majority of sets from dungeons/crafting/alliance raids/job gear sets etc are sorted like so, which makes it super easy to look for.

There IS also a search function but I'm pretty sure it works only for japanese input.

NPC reference sheets

@xivrefsheets Offers really detailed resources of npc models. They also occasionally accept requests on their ko-fi (closed at the time of writing this)

These are super useful and really high quality, especially for some of the boss refs they've done. As someone who doesn't use anamnesis I go back to their refs very often

Convocation of the Fourteen refs

Maintained by @/Igeyorhm on twitter this site has a nice list of Ascian refs per character in addition to some lore bits for each of them. Also some very useful closeups of the Ascian clothes.

Even more NPC and Boss Refs

I believe maintained by @/MlNRATHOUS on twitter, this site has a really nice array of major NPC and boss references in various angles and with colourpicks for skintone and hair which is super useful. I use them a Lot

Lalafell centric refs

Norirow Note is a super cute blog that showcases glam items/ weapons/ chocobo barding and more.

It is NOT meant to be an art reference, however if you play a lala like me, I find their showcases useful when drawing gear on lalas.

Even if you don't use it as an art ref it's a super cute blog that's just fun to go through AND fully translated in english so I recommend just having a fun time reading through it anyway.

Bonus- Au Ra Scales.

I literally found out about this today but @/saficchi on twitter has made a super detailed angled ref sheet for both male and female au ra scales and I love them for it

Bonus 2 electric boogaloo- TextTools

I use this to import 3d models of specific weapons into CSP if I'm drawing them.

I don't know how useful this is for other art software but it's saved my ass from freehanding titania weapons so in the thread it goes

That's the full list of refs I personally use, if there's more that people want to add please feel free to do so in the comments. I hope it helps people out in their creative endeavors!

[lygma-nygma]

Knowing the original reason(s) that Dick became Nightwing and then reading comics like Nightwing: Year One is just so annoying. Like what is the deal with more modern rewrites making everything surrounding Dick and Bruce super edgy and angsty when the original version of the story was perfectly fine?? It’s like DC Comics is on a mission to assassinate both of their characters to make Dick into a ‘sad boy’, it’s infuriating.

Original Pre-Crisis Nightwing Lore: Yeah I'm just kind of getting too old to be Robin. Like it or not Robin is forever and always going to be known as Batman's sidekick and I just don't feel like that fits me anymore. I'm the leader of the Teen Titans and I spend most of my time doing that and solo missions now anyway. I think I'm going to drop the mantle, take a step back, and find a new identity. Original Post-Crisis Nightwing Lore: I got shot and fell off a building during a mission and almost died right in front of Bruce. It shook him up and made him super afraid of me dying so he told me he wasn't going to run with a Robin anymore because he didn't want my death to be his fault. I was annoyed about him treating me like a kid and that he was throwing all the years we worked together away over one incident but he said it wasn't like that, he just hoped I was old enough to understand where he was coming from. I told him that there was no way I wasn't going to continue being a hero and he fully supported me saying that he would always be there to help if I needed it. I was still hurt by it all, especially when Jason showed up, but ultimately I came to understand why it happened and got over it. Edgy Retcon Nightwing Lore: I went out of my way to SAVE him and then I got PUNISHED because I didn't do it right and wasn't prioritizing Gotham enough despite my THIRTEEN THOUSAND JOBS but I'm not surprised because he's always been unreasonable and HATES ME so now I'm not Robin anymore because Batman is an awful person and emotionally abuses me. And just to be clear it's not like Dick and Bruce didn't fight before the retcon, frequently being at each other's throats is literally a core aspect of their relationship, but I'm just so tired of them retconning every interaction they have into some overdramatic spat. Way to completely strip Dick of all his agency as a character and turn Bruce into an empty cardboard cut out of himself. Hope the angst points are worth it.

EDIT: I also want to add that fights between Bruce and Dick used to have a lot more nuance than they do now. The B&D fights used to be caused by a breakdown in communication on BOTH sides, not just Bruce's. The 'Jason becoming Robin' fight comes to mind. In Batman #416 neither Dick's complaints nor Bruce's excuses made complete sense but that was the point. Bruce should have been better at reaching out but Dick was also expecting Bruce to be a mind reader and know how he was feeling without telling him. Dick left home without saying goodbye well Bruce was on a mission, Bruce assumed that meant Dick didn't want to see him and so avoided reaching out leading to the two of them not talking for a long time. Dick accepts that Bruce doesn't want him as Robin anymore in stride (he even smiles and shit about it) so Bruce doesn't realize that losing Robin actually hurt him, ex. It's that kind of fighting, the "I want to slam both your heads together" fighting, that I miss so much.

[britany1997]

Fate Yields For No One

Chapter Three

Hey besties! I hope y’all enjoy the next installment of this series!!! This one is gonna have a lot more lore, and plot developing so I hope you like learning a bit more of how things work in this AU:) Thanks for all y’all’s support on this fic!

Poly Lost Boys x Fem Vampire Reader

Reblog to support my writing, and comment to tell me you’d like to be added to my Taglist for this fic, or my main Taglist!

Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two

California, 1986

Paul’s eyes widened as he realized who you were to him. You wished you could have stopped the word that fell from his lips.

“Mine.”

No.

‘This can’t be happening,’ you thought to yourself as you fought your instincts to keep the same word Paul has uttered to you from bursting out of your own mouth.

Even if you could ignore the fact that this man had been hitting on Maria not five seconds ago, this wasn’t what you wanted for your life.

All the big choices in your unlife had been largely dictated by some dude with a god complex. How could this guy be any different?

You refused to trade one captor for another.

The handsome blond man stared at you in shock, seemingly surprised as you were at the sudden twist of fate that had brought you two together.

Though as his shock wore off his lips seemed to curve into a smile and his hand moved to touch your cheek.

You panicked.

You recoiled sharply from his outstretched palm “Oh my god I totally forgot I have to go stock things in the back, so nice to meet you, bye!” you rambled quickly as you raced to escape from behind the desk.

“What?” Paul’s brow furrowed in confusion. He moved to stand in front of the swinging door, your only escape from behind the desk.

You glared at him, “you’re in my way…”

“What?!” he repeated with more frustration than confusion, “but we’re…I mean we-”

“I know what we are,” you told him, “and I don’t care. So can you please move aside so I can do my job.”

Paul’s jaw dropped.

You sighed and pushed passed him.

“Hey!” he called after you.

You ignored him and kept walking, desperate to be anywhere but next to him.

“This isn’t over you know,” he promised you.

You scoffed as you pulled at the door to the back room, “seems like it is.”

You slid in, slamming the door behind you and pinching the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger.

Despite what you’d said to Paul, you knew you hadn't seen the last of him.

You were determined not to breathe a word to Max about anything that had transpired that night.

He’d never really told you anything about mates, you suspected because he’d never found his own. You couldn't predict how he'd react, and you wouldn’t let him force you into anything else.

Which meant you'd have to figure this out on your own.

As the sun rose and Max went to bed for the day, you scoured the shelves of his home library for anything that could give you more information.

You slunk away to your bedroom with a mountain of books. You secured your black out curtains, preparing to stay up all day researching.

What you found terrified you.

Humans swooned over the idea of soulmates, they spent their lives searching for someone who’d complete them, one person who was perfectly suited for them.

But this wasn’t an original human creation. They’d stolen the idea of soulmates from vampires.

Many scholars thought when a human transformed into a vampire, they lost their soul.

From what you could gather, this was a myth. Instead, when a human became a vampire, their soul wasn’t taken from them, but tethered to another of their kind.

You read this was a facet of vampirism that had developed over time out of a necessity for more vampires. Great.

You’d also read that, as bats had multiple partners, vampires could have more than one mate. You didn’t even want to think about that possibility.

When you’d read the first text from cover to cover, you picked up a new one.

You found that the mates aspect of vampirism was inherently instinctual, which is why Paul had called you his, and why you’d almost done the same. He couldn’t help it.

You read, to your dismay, that your soul was intimately tied to his in a way that could never be severed. Your entire beings belonged to each other.

This was bad.

You continued to the next book, cringing as you read that from this point on every denial of your connection would only hurt you. Without Paul, a part of you would always feel empty.

Now that you knew you were “meant for each other,” every moment without him would hurt just a little bit. You could not exist the same way without him. He was yours, you were his.

Fuck that shit.

You didn’t need anyone to give your life meaning. You belonged to yourself and no one else.

You pushed the stack of books aside in a huff. They tumbled to the ground but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

You would fight to be the master of your own fate, whatever it took.

You were apprehensive to return for your shift the next day for fear that you'd be confronted by the persistent blond vampire.

However after two days with no sign of Paul, you began to relax. And after two weeks had passed without a trace, you had pushed the whole ordeal out of your mind entirely.

Instead, you turned your focus to Maria.

The two of you were constantly scheduled together as Max could never find anyone else to work the night shifts. You spent almost every waking minute with the girl that had quickly become very important to you.

And once Max had seen you'd connected with Maria, he felt the urge to supervise you less and less. It wasn't long before you were permitted to work your shifts without his imposing presence.

But work was a term used pretty loosely as you always seemed to do more talking than working. It wasn't like you had tons of customers, who even needed to rent movies at three AM anyway?

Besides, you were all too eager to spend each night hearing every seemingly insignificant detail of Maria's life.

Every good grade she'd gotten at school, every party she attended on the weekends, every fight she had with one of her siblings that always ultimately ended in apologies and hugs, you wanted to know it all. You were content to listen to the sound of her voice ramble on for hours.

She was just as eager to know you, and though you couldn't tell her everything, you could tell her enough.

Maria listened intently, wide eyed and hanging on every word as you related stories from your time in New York city.

Five siblings meant Maria's family didn’t get to travel much. You gasped when she admitted she'd never even ventured from the state of California.

"We'll go together one day," you promised her, "I'll take you everywhere, I know the city like the back of my hand!"

Her laugh rang through the store, prompting your lips to turn up into a bright smile, her joy was contagious. "What a dream that would be," she sighed wistfully, you could almost see the stars in her eyes.

"I mean it," you said seriously, "you and me, together in New York."

Her smile grew, "you and me."

As the work week came to a close, you shoved the last VHS back into place, moving to wipe down the counters as Maria flipped the switch to turn off the neon "OPEN" sign that hung on the front of the store.

You checked your watch as it flashed 6:00AM, sunrise was fast approaching and you were cutting it close.

"Damn you're working late," you realized as you wiped down the counters, "I thought I was by myself tonight."

Maria smiled sheepishly and you barely caught sight of the blush that rose to her cheeks, "you were."

Your eyes widened, "you stayed late for me? you didn't have to do that..."

"I wanted to," she replied as she bit her lip.

You dropped the rag and spray bottle, walking to stand in front of her from across the counter, "why?"

She blushed once more before her eyes fell to the ground, "I don't know, I just..." she looked up, "I like being around you."

As you stared into the eyes of the beautiful woman before you, you were presented with an opportunity. An opportunity to choose for yourself, to take control of your own destiny.

You didn't choose to be cursed with an eternity of seperation from the souls of your family, you didn't choose to be a vampire, you didn't choose Paul and you certainly didn't chose Max. But you could choose Maria.

"Maria," you whispered, leaning in till your noses were almost touching, "can I kiss you?"

She beamed before caressing your cheek with the back of her hand, "I thought you'd never ask."

You leaned in and her soft lips met yours.

Note: I promise the next chapter is going to be focused on all the boys, thanks for being patient I promise it’ll be worth it😌

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