#I just thought this list would be fun to make :]

[cece693]

You're Just Jealous of Me

pairing: the salvatore brothers x male reader tags: reader knows he's manipulative and a slut, you just don't care tbh, Elena has an aneurysm from not being the main character, the brothers know they're getting played, you're just that hot/beautiful/perfect for them to give you up, Elena bashing, no incest

"I can't believe you." Elena exclaimed, her eyes growing misty as you were getting ready to head out with Damon on a date. It hadn't even been a week since they broke up (something about her needing stability or some other bullshit) and you didn't care. All that mattered was getting through yet another 'poor me' moment without killing her and making it seem like an accident.

Seriously, what did your sister expect? That Damon was going to stay single for the rest of his days until she made a fucking choice between him and Stefan? Perhaps some of her betrayal stemmed from the fact that Stefan had also rejected her ass and had made it clear he didn't feel anything for her anymore. So now poor Elena had no one while you played with both brothers.

And it wasn't even 'playing' per se if they knew about the whole situation. You could fuck any of them, and they'll be fine with it—a thing you made clear to them when this whole thing started. You liked both brothers, but having to choose just one was unfair—they both had traits that attracted you, and if you couldn't have both, then you'll settle for nothing. Like eager children they agreed. The arrangement was abnormal to others, but for you it worked—you dated both brothers, they still hated each other (entertaining fights arising from their competitiveness on who you liked more, who was 'rocking' your world, etc.) Simple really.

"Save the tears for the pillow, sister. I’m really not in the mood—nor will I ever be—to entertain your pity parties." Pulling on one of Damon’s leather jackets, you smirked. You were a sight to behold—not only would Damon be eager to rip the clothes off you, but half the population would, too.

It was fun stirring the pot, watching Damon bare his teeth at anyone who thought they stood a chance. Jealousy was his kryptonite, and while a part of you hated targeting one of his insecurities, you always reassured him in bed of your devotion, loyalty, and love.

Yes, because at the end of the day, you loved both Salvatore brothers. This wasn't just some passing fantasy, nor was it some revenge scheme against your sister (though you did love tormenting her with the fact that you were dating the two). You were willing to throw away your human life to become a vampire—to spend eternity by their side.

"Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to cause this!" Now there was the Elena you knew all too well—the one who constantly placed themselves as the victim, putting blame unto you because who could ever hate a girl who lost her parents?

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really want to go there?” you snap, not bothering to hide the derision in your voice. “Fine. For starters, you’ve always made Jeremy and me feel like shit, and the few times you did act like a decent human being were just so you didn’t look like a total bitch.”

“That’s not true!” she protests, anger tightening her features.

“It is, Elena,” you spit back. “When our parents died, you didn’t do a damn thing to help us cope. You were so wrapped up in your own grief, your own fucking melodrama, that you never once checked on Jeremy or me—unless, of course, it was to nag us about how we were coping. When Jeremy started doing drugs, you freaked the fuck out. Not because you cared, but because you were afraid of how it might make you look. God forbid anyone sees that the 'perfect' Elena Gilbert can’t keep her family together or help her brother kick his drug habit.”

She flinches, but you weren't done. Oh, no. You were just beginning to go down the list of why you hated her ass. "Then, when I began to hook up with Damon, you acted like I was the cause of our parents death—no, that's on you because Elena couldn't help herself and got drunk, needing a ride home at midnight. Sleeping with Damon was like I'd personally betray you."

Her cheeks flush crimson. “Well, you did! You—”

“I did what, Elena?” You take a step forward, towering over her. “I moved on? Found something that might actually make me happy? Meanwhile, you’ve been stringing both Damon and Stefan along for God knows how long. You made your choice—you dumped Damon, tried getting back with Stefan, when he told you to fuck off, you tried going back to Damon and he said the same thing. So now you’re standing here, arms crossed, lip trembling, trying to put the blame on me because you lost your backup plan.”

Her lips press into a thin line, eyes brimming with tears. But you’ve seen this act before—she’ll blink prettily, glance away like a wounded animal, and wait for you to console her. Only this time, you won't.

“You are an asshole,” she hisses, eyes narrowed into slits. “He was mine first.”

That makes you laugh, a harsh sound echoing off the hallway walls. “Right...possessive much? People aren’t property, Elena. He’s not a damn handbag you lend out when it suits you. If Damon wants to be with me, that’s his call. And if I want to keep him, that’s mine.”

She trembles, either from anger or heartbreak—you can’t tell, and frankly, you don’t care. “Why would you do this?” she asks again, her voice cracking. “What have I ever done—”

You rolled your eyes so hard you got a slight headache. "Did you even listen to me? I have every reason to hate you, so does Jeremy and the rest of Mystic Falls. Those who continue to stand by you are either stupid or hope they'll get some attention from your desperate ass. I'm done. I’m done letting you guilt-trip me. I’m done tiptoeing around your precious feelings. I’m fucking over it, Elena.”

Just then, Damon appears in the doorway, that trademark smirk on his face. “Ready?” he asks, taking in the tension between you two. His gaze flicks to the tears glistening in her eyes before returning to you. “I’m guessing we’re skipping the family therapy session?”

“Therapy? More like the mandatory guilt trip, which I’ve politely declined.”

Elena’s voice wavers, “Damon, how can you just—”

He cuts her off with a raised hand, posture casual but his eyes dangerously dark. “Stop, Elena. What we had is over. You made that choice before, remember? I’m done letting you waltz in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient for you.” You can practically feel the hatred radiating off her in waves. She’s not used to being shut down, especially not by Damon, the semi-reformed bad boy who once hung on her every word. It must sting. Oh, well. Her loss.

“As much as I loved talking to you, sister, I do believe we're running late. Don't wait up and please, if you're going to continue crying, leave my room. Keep wallowing if you want. Hell, cry yourself a fucking river. Just don’t stain my carpet.” Without another glance at Elena, you brush past Damon, and he steps aside for you to lead. He follows, closing the door behind you both, leaving your sister alone in her silence.

You descend the porch steps and greet the night air with a sigh of relief, reveling in the silence that isn’t tainted by Elena’s incessant whining. Damon slips an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward his car parked beneath a streetlamp. His touch is warm, confident—like he’s proud of the chaos you’ve left behind.

“She’ll get over it,” he says, glancing at you with one of those trademark smirks that used to make Elena weak at the knees. Now, it just fuels your own sense of dark satisfaction.

“She’d better,” you mutter. “I’m not putting up with her drama anymore. If she wants to play the victim, she can do it alone. I’ve got better things to do.”

Damon’s grin widens. “That’s the spirit. So, where are we headed, anyway? We never actually nailed down the specifics.”

You shrug, placing an arm around his waist and snuggling closer to his side. “Anywhere but here. Got a craving for something stiff—drink or otherwise.” The innuendo doesn’t slip past him. His eyes flash with interest, and you can’t deny that thrill you get from watching Damon Salvatore light up over you instead of your sister.

“Sounds like the Grill for starters,” he suggests with a casual tilt of his head. “They might have a halfway decent bourbon I can drown myself in. As for the ‘otherwise,’ well…” He lets the sentence hang, the possibility of later events sparking arousal for the both of you.

You’re about to respond when you spot Stefan leaning against Damon's Camaro. Typical. Even without super-hearing, you know he’s probably caught every word you exchanged with Elena. Damned vampires. "What are you doing here?" Damon was the first who spoke, hand tightening over your body. As if he was a child preventing his favorite toy to be taken away from him.

"Nothing, really. I was just walking around the neighborhood and saw your car parked. But now that I see you're here with my boyfriend, I guess I have time to join you two at the grill."

"Our boyfriend."

You simply laugh at Stefan’s innocent tone, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. Just a few minutes ago, you were telling off Elena and storming out of the house. Now you’re pinned between two vampires—both of whom are technically yours, and you are theirs. Welcome to the wonderful, fucked-up world of Mystic Falls.

“‘Our’ boyfriend,” you echo, looking from Stefan to Damon. “Are you two seriously going to argue semantics right now? Pick a damn fight over who saw me first?” A scoff escapes you as you shrug off Damon’s possessive grip just enough to stand on your own. You’re not some chew toy they get to tug-of-war over.

Stefan cocks a brow, his expression cool but laced with a hint of smugness. “I’m not here to fight,” he says, his gaze flicking to Damon. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t excluded. Last time I checked, this was a joint arrangement.”

Damon’s jaw clenches. Clearly, he remembers crashing your date with Stefan last week—and how you’d had to smooth over the tension in ways that involved very little clothing and a lot of apologizing on his part. “We’re not excluding you, Saint Stefan. But we do have plans that don’t involve your pensive brooding.”

Stefan straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, so your plan is to get drunk at the Grill and then…whatever else…” He waves a hand dismissively, “doesn’t appeal to me?” He tilts his head in mock curiosity. “You sure about that?”

You snort. “Children, please. If you both really wanted to rip each other’s heads off, you’d have done it ages ago. Let’s just go. All this talk is making my head hurt.”

Damon lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But if Stefan starts preaching about morality or—God forbid—Elena, I’m leaving him to pay the tab.”

Stefan’s smirk grows. “I’d pick a better conversation starter than Elena, trust me.”

You give an unimpressed half-smile. “Don’t even mention her name. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist unless she’s blocking my path to a stiff drink.”

That shuts both of them up. They exchange a quick glance—some silent vampire communication or whatever—then Damon jerks his head toward the passenger door. “Shotgun’s yours,” he says to you, ever the gentleman when it comes to seating. To Stefan, he adds begrudgingly, “Guess you can squeeze into the back...or the trunk.”

Stefan’s lip twitches like he’s fighting off a retort, but he says nothing. Instead, he silently moves to the rear door. You can’t help but grin. It’s absurd that they both share you yet still bicker like five-year-olds over the smallest shit. But hey, maybe that’s part of the charm.

Once inside Damon’s Camaro, you sink into the leather seat, adjusting your legs as you feel Stefan’s presence behind you. The tension is thick—crackling with desire, frustration, and that constant competition. You kind of love it. Damon revs the engine, and the car peels away from the curb.

“Any chance we can make this a quick pit stop at the Grill?” you say, your gaze shifting between them. “I need something to eat, maybe a drink or two, but I’m not really in the mood to fraternize with the entire damn town.”

Damon flicks you a sidelong glance. “Someone’s impatient. Looking to skip straight to dessert, sweetheart?”

A grin tugs at your lips. “I’d just rather not get cornered by whichever idiot wants the latest gossip on Elena’s meltdown.”

Stefan leans forward, resting his forearms on the front seats. “We can be in and out in under thirty minutes. Grab some wings, maybe a bourbon—or three—and leave.” He lowers his voice suggestively. “After that, I wouldn’t mind some privacy.”

Damon makes a sound of reluctant agreement. “Deal. But don’t whine when you realize your tolerance is way lower than mine, Brother.”

Stefan just smirks. “Don’t worry about me, Damon. Worry about yourself.”

The quick banter settles into a charged silence as the lights of Mystic Falls blur by. The neon sign of the Grill soon comes into view, and Damon maneuvers into a parking spot with practiced ease.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mutter, pushing the car door open. “I’m not about to waste my entire night entertaining half-drunk townspeople.”

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you can already see a few familiar faces through the window—Caroline, Matt, maybe Tyler. You can’t be bothered to care. The only drama you want tonight is the kind that ends in moans, not tears. And if Elena hasn’t slithered over here yet, you might just get your way.

Damon slides an arm around your waist possessively again, and Stefan eyes the gesture with an annoyance that’s as old as time. You sigh inwardly. No matter how many times you remind them you belong to both, they still can’t help but try to stake their separate claims. Vampire pride, maybe.

As you head inside, the ambient chatter and smell of bar food envelop you. A few heads turn—this is Mystic Falls, after all, and you’re making a very public entrance with both Salvatores. Let them stare. Let them talk.

“Your usual table?” Damon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you say. “Let’s just grab a seat and order. I’m fucking starving.”

The three of you slip into a booth. Damon slides in beside you, Stefan on the opposite side. A cute server looks mildly flustered as she hands out menus. You can see her eyes flick between Damon and Stefan, likely recalling the messy history each has with Elena. If she notices you’re with them in a more intimate sense, she doesn’t comment. Probably for the best.

“So,” Damon says, flipping open the menu, “bourbon and wings? Or do we want to start with something stronger?”

Stefan doesn’t bother with the menu. “I’ll have what you’re having,” he says with a forced casualness, drumming his fingers on the table. He’s clearly aware eyes are on you three. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him—like he’s waiting for the next potential disaster.

You roll your eyes at the both of them. “Bourbon’s fine. Then if someone pisses me off, we can move on to whiskey shots until I forget this entire night.”

Damon flashes that trademark smirk. “You, pissed off? Shocking.”

Stefan snorts, finally cracking a faint smile. “I’m sure we’ll manage to avoid any drama.”

A short, barking laugh leaves you. “In this town? With the three of us in the same damn booth? Doubtful.”

But you push aside the building dread. Because at least you’re here on your terms, Elena’s sob story is miles away, and you have both Salvatores at your side—bickering, sure, but ultimately yours. And that realization, twisted as it might be, makes a satisfied grin curl your lips. With a raised brow, you signal the server for your order. Let the vultures talk, let Elena sulk. You’ve got bigger, better things to do tonight—and two vampires to do them with.

“Bring on the bourbon,” you say, leaning back. “I’ve got all fucking night.”

[lovelyjj]

I have a Rudy request. It’s fluffy, not smutty. The reader is a famous singer and she’s dating Rudy. She has a YouTube channel. One day, she makes a YouTube video of her reading thirst tweets people made about her and Rudy is in the video with her and he’s laughing the whole time.

Thirst Tweets

Rudy Pankow x Reader

The story of how you and Rudy met was cute really. You were both on a plane. You were traveling because you were on tour as a singer. Rudy was traveling for work as he was an actor on the show Outer Banks. You just so happen to sit next to each other on the plane.

Rudy listened to your music so he knew who you were. He always thought you were gorgeous but he figured you were out of his league. You had the window seat and then Rudy sat next to you. Rudy decided he wanted to get to know you so even though he was a little nervous, he went for it.

“Hey, you’re Y/N Y/L/N, right? The famous singer?” Rudy started.

“Oh hi, yeah I am, nice to meet you,” you turned towards him

“I’m Rudy, Rudy Pankow.”

“Hi why are you going to Charleston?” you tried to make good conversation.

“Oh I’m shooting my TV show there. I’m an actor,” Rudy scratched the back of his neck.

“Wow what TV show is it may I ask?”

“It’s called Outer Banks.”

“I’ll have to watch it then,” you winked.

The rest of the conversation flowed naturally. You both had a great flight talking to and getting to know each other. When the flight was over you exchanged numbers and started texting about when you can see each other again. Both your schedules were busy but you made time for one another.

Eventually Rudy asked you out and you’ve been dating ever since. Rudy went to a couple of your shows and you went on the set of outer banks to see them filming in action. You’ve never felt this way with anyone before the way you feel with Rudy. It was like you were destined to be together.

You and Rudy were always doing fun things. You were both nervous to tell the world you were dating, well because, you were both famous. But your fans took it really well. The internet loved you when you finally made it public. It was a big step.

“Ya know I think it’s finally time I introduce you to my youtube channel,” you told Rudy in the living room of your shared apartment.

“You think so?” Rudy responded.

“Yeah my manager sent me an idea. She suggested I read thirst tweets.”

“Thirst tweets? I’d be down to be in it, sounds fun,” Rudy commented.

“Ok let’s do it.”

Your manager sent you a list of thirst tweets so all you had to do was read them. You set up your camera in the living room and Rudy got comfortable. “I’m excited,” you announced.

“This is gonna be fun,” Rudy exclaimed.

You made sure you and Rudy were in frame and hit record. You sat down next to Rudy and pulled out your phone. “Hi guys I’m Y/N and this is my boyfriend Rudy Pankow.” Rudy waved and said hello.

“Today I’m gonna be reading your thirst tweets.”

“Okay first one. Y/N Y/L/N is so fine she can run me over with a truck.” You laughed.

Rudy glanced at the tweet over your shoulder and snickered.

“Thank you I think,” you giggled.

“I mean they are right,” Rudy commented.

“Next this one says I want to get railed by Y/N.”

Rudy laughed loudly. “I don’t know how that would work but okay,” you shrugged.

“This one has a picture of me and it says “raw, next question.”

Rudy busted out laughing. “That one is my favorite so far,” Rudy admitted.

“Okay okay here’s another one, Can we talk about how gorgeous Y/N Y/L/N is? She is fucking beautiful.”

“I agree,” Rudy commented.

“Want Y/N Y/L/N to spit in my mouth!” you read the tweet.

“Oh god,” Rudy laughed.

“Alright let’s keep going. Y/N Y/L/N is mother,” you read another.

“Mother?” Rudy questioned with a laugh.

“I’m flattered,” you smiled.

“Y/N Y/L/N makes me go feral,” you kept reading tweets.

“Feral? like a wild animal?” Rudy chuckled.

“I guess.”

“Y/N Y/L/N was my biggest sexual awakening,” you looked at your phone.

“Again I’m flattered.”

“I’m a SLUT for Y/N,” you read another tweet.

“I want Y/N Y/L/N to [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] me so hard that I [redacted] [redacted] [redacted].”

“Wait let me see,” Rudy looked at your phone.

“That’s so funny,” Rudy laughed.

“I would rail the shit out of Y/N.”

“Me too oh wait I already do,” Rudy whispered.

“Rudy!”

“Ok ok next one says “Y/N Y/L/N can punch me in the face and i’d say thank you.”

“Oh my,” Rudy giggled.

“making out with Y/N would fix me,” you read.

“Let me tell you it’s amazing,” Rudy spoke.

“Thanks,” you laughed.

“On my knees for Y/N!”

“Interesting,” you raise your eyebrows.

“Well that was fun, thank you everyone for your support I’ll see you in the next one.”

“Bye guys!” Rudy waved goodbye.

You got up and turned off the camera. “You know I’m so lucky to have you,” Rudy told you.

“Aww,” you cooed and gave Rudy a kiss on his lips.

Rudy was your person. The two of you were perfect together. You knew you were gonna be together for a long time. You both supported each other in everything you do. Rudy was your soulmate and you were his.

[judesmoonbeauty]

A Day With Jude Jazza: Chapter Two "13:00 Working at Raven & Lunch"

TW: Weight discussion. Idk if this really needs it or not, but I added it just in case.

Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

I’m working hard at Raven today too —

(I’ve been working non-stop, but I wonder if I’ll be able to finish this….)

The moment I gulped at the mountain of documents in front of me…..

Jude: Do ‘em perfectly.

He showed up and said that, so I stopped what I was doing and puffed my cheeks.

Kate: Isn’t there some kind of reward for your girlfriend who works so hard?

Jude: What kinda reward?

Kate: Hmm, like taking me out for lunch…?

Jude: ….Tch.

Then his finger came up to my forehead,

Kate: Ouch!

I reflexively squeezed my eyes shut because of the force of the forehead flick —

(…..It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.)

Opening my eyes, he let out an annoyed sigh and turned around.

Jude: Let’s make tracks.

Kate: What?

Jude: Lunch, let’s go.

Kate: Coming!!

Kate: It’s my first time coming to this restaurant, but it’s super delicious.

Ellis: Good, I’m glad you’re happy Kate.

While eating a tasty meat-dish and chatting with Ellis,

Jude: ……

I heard the sound of a fork being put down next to me, and when I looked over he had stopped eating, leaving the fatty part untouched.

Kate: That’s such a waste.

The plate was silently brought to me, as if telling me to eat, so I ate the fatty portion.

After that, Jude made an exasperated look.

Jude: You’ll gain weight if ya eat like that each ‘n every time.

(Actually, I have been a bit worried about that recently….)

Kate: Isn’t it because you’re handing your plates over to me, Jude?

Jude: Didn’t say t’eat it.

Jude: Yer the one sayin’ it’s a waste not t’eat it.

(I can’t deny that…..)

Jude: ‘N ya eat more sweets than me’, innit?

Ever since we started dating, I felt like it was a waste to leave any of the fat and sweets on the plate,

So when I look over, the plate gets closer to me, and before I know it, I end up eating it.

Ellis: But I think it’s nice to see Kate eating it deliciously.

Kate: Ellis……

Ellis was sitting across from me and kindly smiles.

Feeling a bit happy, I brought the dessert to my lips without hesitation.

That’s when Jude’s fingers stroke my thigh under the table —

Kate: Urk!

Jude: Ya really have put on weight, haven’tcha?

His warped smile irritated me, so I lightly pinched his hand.

Kate: This is what I do to people who say such things.

Jude: Ha, don’t hurt none.

His hand let go of my thigh, and he took a bite of the dessert,

Jude: Ya can work back the weight gain.

This sentence translation has been updated. Previously, I rendered it as, “Work back the weight gain.” However, い is used at the end of the sentence (which can soften what’s said), so I updated it to the line above because the other sentence sounded too blunt imo. Sorry, I’m still learning.

He didn’t seem to like the sugary taste, and immediately put down his fork.

Jude: Got the perfect job for ya.

Kate: What is it?

Jude: Deliver all o’ the finished documents to the department heads in the company.

Kate: That much?!

Thinking back to all the documents left on my desk, I felt overwhelmed.

Jude: Kate.

Kate: Yes, [MUMPH]

Bite by bite, he feeds me his dessert.

Kate: Wai-, Jude, Ju-

As soon as I gulped down the last mouthful, he flashed a wicked smile.

Jude: Ya ate desserts for two, so ya can work fer that much, yeah?

Kate: —You DEMON!

Jude: Ha!

As we glared at each other, I heard Ellis’ heartwarming voice,

Ellis: Hehe, Jude and Kate, you both look like you’re having fun today too.

Jude & Kate: Ain’t havin’ fun. • I’m not having fun.

And so, the lunch break ends.

[Event Master list] [Next - ⏱♡ 16:00 - Negotiations at Twilight]

I want to be spoiled and fed by Jude too.......

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

If you wish to be added to my translations tag list, and are +18 YO, then please comment below! If you wish to be removed, please do the same.

Tag list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne

[captain-huggy-bear]

Treat You Right

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: unwanted advances, men not taking no for an answer, Clayton's involved in a fight.

Summary: You're not dating Clayton Keller, but there's one thing he can't stand and that's a guy not treating you with respect...turns out he hates it enough to fight a guy in a bar after a game.

Notes: All I have to say is i'm in my Clayton brain rot era.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It's a normal night or it starts that way. Being friends with a bunch of pro-athletes means you're often dragged out after home game wins to whatever bar they decide is best that night. Tonight it's Sunny's, a common choice for the Utah Hockey Club because of the pool table, dart board and the fact that most of the people who come in are old middle age men or contractors. Guys, who might ask for an autograph but not the usual screaming crowd that make it impossible for them to have a drink or two.

You never really had being friends with the lot of them on your bucket list, but Michael had met you when he'd taken his cats to the vets and you'd been there with your own, a fat black moggie called Gremlin who'd fallen in love with Ranger. From that point on cat dates had been a thing because in Kess' words 'you can't separate true love', you weren't entirely sure whether Gremlin loved Ranger or just wanted to lick the other cat bald.

Either way the moment you became friends with Kess was the moment you became friends with the entire team, suddenly you were being asked to events, invited to home games and the celebratory drinks after. It was nice, for the most part you felt like you were their sister, someone for them to look after but also mock, just as much as you made fun of them. You had a little community, a gang, a group where you belonged even if you weren't actually on the team.

The exception to that rule being Clayton Keller...you definitely did not want to feel like Clayton Keller's sister.

It was bound to happen, that you'd have a crush on at least one of the team. It wasn't really your fault, and well, Clay had this way of treating you, all soft and sweet and like a girl, that had you flushing under his attention and preening at any compliment he gave you. You were almost certain it was a one-sided crush doomed to go nowhere and leave you pining after the captain until you settled for some mediocre guy in finance. He was just so nice to you, so sweet.

Still, Clay was half the reason you'd agreed to come out to Sunny's that night. Determined to spend some time with or at least around him. You'd even gone home to change after the game into a nice dress before coming back out again because maybe, just maybe, this would be the night that Clayton Keller realised you were the girl he wanted.

You're waiting for your coca cola at the bar, leaning on your forearms and watching the room from over your shoulder. Kess and Dylan were playing a game of pool in the corner, Kess appearing to be losing based on the glare he was sending Dylan's way. The rest of the guys were sat around their usual table, beers in hand laughing and joking. Your eyes find Clayton like he's a magnet, he's smirking at something O'Brian's said, Tuna probably making some stupid dirty joke or telling a story at the expense of Kess.

"Hey, pretty..." You're pulled out of your people watching by a slurred drawl far too close to your ear for comfort. Your eyes shift to the man next to you, who might have been considered handsome if he wasn't staring at your boobs so blatantly that you suddenly understood what a tasty pastry felt like in a patisserie window. It wasn't particularly flattering.

You shift away from him as much as you can without appearing rude because he'd managed to somehow sneak up on you and get within inches of your ear. Something you're sure he thought was seductive but just made your shoulders tighten and your body tense.

"Hi." You try to keep your tone short, not wanting to encourage the man but hating to feel like you're being unnecessarily rude as well.

"Can I buy you a drink, baby?"

"I'm good, thanks." You gesture at the soft drink your bartender just placed in front of you, thankful that this is your cue to leave and return to the safety of a group of hockey players.

Unbeknownst to you in that moment Marino is nudging Kells with his elbow, chin gesturing in your direction. You look uncomfortable, the way you're shifting away from the man leering at you, practically leaning over you, says enough. Every time you shift away from him, he shifts closer and it's clear to Clayton that you'd rather be anywhere else.

He can't help it, the way it makes his hackles rise, the way his fist clenches tight around his beer bottle as he takes another swig, forcing himself to be cool, to just let you handle it for a moment. It's not like you're dating, it's not like he has any right to storm over there and maybe he's wrong...maybe you're interested in the guy leering down at you like you're a piece of meat. Maybe he's more your type than Clay is.

He doesn't really blame the guy for showing interest. You're beautiful, always, but...there's something about the way you look tonight. Maybe it's that your dress accentuates your hips or the fact that the colour makes your skin look like its glowing...or maybe Clayton is just a little weak for you. That's not exactly a new revelation for him. He's been weak for you since day one.

"Seriously, baby, that's not a real drink, let me get you a real drink."

"I'm good." You stress your point this time, snatching your drink back from the man who just tried to take it off you and straightening to walk back to the guys. Any pretence of politeness dropped because you don't have to deal with this and you aren't going to.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" It's a shift in attitude that you should have expected, you've seen it before, but you don't expect the hand that wraps around your wrist to stop you walking away, your drink spilling as you're jerked to a stop. His hand is tight, uncomfortable so and the situation has gone from irritating to frightening, fear running down you're spine because this strange man has his hands on you.

Your eyes find Clay's almost instinctively, wide and scared but he's already out of his seat and shoving people out of the way with short, sharp apologies as he goes. It's not like he's alone either, half the team are now looking your way, waiting to see if their captain needs any help or not. Looking to see if they need to also step in.

"Get the fuck off me." Still, in the time it takes Clay to reach you you try to shake the man off, glaring up at him like it might help. It doesn't, if anything his grip tightens and he pulls you closer, a hand reaching for the skin of your thigh like he has any right to touch you.

It's that that has Clay seeing red. Going from thinking he'd calmly intervene to storming between the two of you like a bull in a china shop. It must be the surprise of someone intervening that does it, but the man let's your wrist go and Clay's pushing you gently back and out of the way before he's letting a fist fly at the guy's face without so much as a word towards the other man.

"Shit, Clay...What the fuck are you doing?!" All you can do is take another step back, hands coming to your mouth because out of all the guys on the team, Clay's the last one you expect to be starting a fight in a bar with a guy at least a head taller than him.

He doesn't answer you because he's too busy fighting, you're so shocked, so focused on what's happening in front of you, that you jump when Kess brushes your shoulder, pool having been deserted in favour of helping O'Brian and Marino pull the two men apart.

Despite the size difference Clay's winning or it looks like he's winning, you're pretty certain he's broken the other guy's nose and even with a bloody busted lip, he doesn't look winded or ready to stop. Part of you hates it. A stupid display of male pride and dominance that you should not condone at all...another part of you feels a thrill at Clayton fighting on your behalf, at the blood speckles across his white dress shirt, at the bruising on his knuckles, at the way he licks the blood from his busted lip and smirks at the guy sarcastically. Like he's completely and utterly in control.

You're not sure he's going to stop, eyes feral, mouth pursed, huffing like an angry bull when Kess finally has him round the shoulders and starts pulling him away. Tuna doing the same to the stranger. But, Clay does stop, just shrugs Kess off with sharp movements, "I'm fine. He won't be if he doesn't fucking leave though."

It's Tuna that escorts the stranger out of the bar and you're certain the only thing stopping the bar owner from kicking Clay out is the fact he's a local celebrity who brings in half the customers.

"What the hell, Clay?" You're still shocked by the brute display of force from him, not scared, just surprised. You can't deny there's a certain appeal to it. To the way he looks at you as he wipes blood from his chin, how his large hands clench and unclench testing his knuckles for a break. They're just bruised. He's hot...hotter than usual and you kind of hate that you feel that way, like you're setting feminism back 100 years. But, God...

“No one gets to treat you like that, you hear me? No one.” He can't stand it. The entitlement to grab you, the belief that anyone has a right to touch you without permission, to talk to you like that. He's half a mind to chase after Tuna and the guy, to keep going, but he knows he shouldn't...he's already done more than he probably should have. Headlines in the morning no doubt already looking like 'Utah Captain beats local man in bar brawl!'.

"That...you can't just fight someone for being a asshole," You can see Kess gesturing for everyone to give the two of you privacy as Clay steps into your personal bubble. He's still amped up, chest heaving like he wants another fight, lips parted to take in more air. You hate that you want to take a bite out of him, you hate that you want him to take that energy out on you in a completely different way than fighting.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because...because..." all you can come up with is, "I'm not your girlfriend, Clay...you don't have to defend me."

He looks at you like you're an idiot, the only time he's ever looked at you like that. Like you're daft and it makes you flush with warm embarrassment because why couldn't you think of something better to say.

"No one gets to treat you like dirt. Like a piece of meat. Like he owns you, okay? Doesn't matter if you're my girlfriend or not, men better treat you with respect or they're dealing with me."

"Clay...I get it, you're a woman loving, modern man but..." You're convinced this whole display is just part of his gentlemanly stick, his righteous desire for fairness and justice in the world and nothing to do with you. it would be cute how oblivious you are, if he wasn't so fed up with it.

"And before you start that shit, yeah, I'd defend any woman in here, but I sure as fuck wouldn't be throwing punches over anyone else, baby." Clay runs his hands through his hair frenetically, the strands messy and loose, hat non-existent for once.

You feel like your head is spinning, buzzing, confused because surely he's talking about the fact you're kind of friends, that you're not a stranger. He can't possibly mean...he called you baby? When did Clay ever call you baby?

His laugh is sardonic, disbelieving as he watches the way you stare at him, all wide eyed and confused like he hasn't been trying to flirt with you for the past six months that you've known each other. Like he doesn't try to compliment you every time he sees you. Like he didn't give you his number the very first day so you could meet up. Like he's not totally irrevocably in love with you.

"Do I need to spell it out for you, sweetheart?" He's being a bit abrupt, a little bit mean in a way Clay normally isn't with you. Not quite so soft and he'll apologise for that later but he's still angry about the whole thing and you're obliviousness to his feelings feels like a slap in the face, like he's not good enough for you to even comprehend the idea of something more with. You don't owe him anything, but fuck, he's frustrated with the ignorance of it all.

"You're not my girlfriend, but I sure as hell want you to be and I've been flirting with you for six months and if you're just not interested that's fine, I'll still be in your corner, but I need to know if I'm just wasting my time waiting." This time when you're backed against the bar top by a man, it's by Clay, and it's wanted. He's in your space but with enough room that he's giving you an out, you can slip under his arm and leave at any moment. But you don't.

"You like me?" It's every dream you've had about Clay, every want, rolled up into one. The way he barricades you in on the bar top. The smell of his cologne. The warmth of him. The intense stare of baby blue eyes as he tells you he actually likes you, that your stupid, silly little crush isn't actually as one-sided as you thought.

"Only been flirting with you since the moment we met, baby."

"You've been flirting with me?" You lean back to get a better look at his face, your mouth dropped in shock. In turn he leans back to look at you in a similar manner, eyebrows high, blue eyes blinking in confusion.

"Are you serious?"

"Fuck...I thought...I thought you weren't interested...I thought...I thought you didn't like me back..." You're practically having an existential crisis between his arms because he's just admitted he likes you that he's been flirting with you for months, that all your pining and your moping has been for literally nothing.

"Back?" Clay's smile is starting to grow, the one you adore, all teeth and dimples as he picks up on that one seemingly insignificant word and prods at it. As if that word has put all the frustration, all the anger, all the bad feelings of the night instantly to rest.

"I..."

"Do you like me, baby?" He's all teasing smirks and half-lidded eyes now, leaning back into your space so close that you're chest to chest, nose to nose. So close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. So close it makes you stutter and freeze.

"Clay..." Your eyes dart to all your friends, all eyes on the two of you as you flush warm, cheeks growing supremely hot because fuck, Clayton Keller looks like he's about to kiss you in the middle of a bar with the entire team watching like they need popcorn.

You watch Clayton's eyes flicker to catch the audience watching, the way he takes a moment to pause, to think, whatever impulsive decision he had being put to rest for the moment.

"C'mon..." His hand is wrapping around yours in no time, tugging you along and out of the bar, away from prying eyes as if that isn't just as blatant, just as obvious as kissing you in front of all of them or whatever he might have planned to do. There's part of you that wonders if this might be all some big joke he's about to play, the insecure part, the little girl from your childhood part, that feels like he might turn around and laugh with a loud 'as if!'.

You let him lead you outside, the night air cool against your arms, the sort of chill that makes goose bumps raise on your arms. He doesn't even hesitate before shrugging off his jacket and throwing it over your shoulders, his arm coming to rest there, tucking you into his side like you belong, like its natural for him to do.

You don't speak as you walk, scared to break the silence until you come to a stop a few streets down in front of a shop that Clay had parked across from earlier in the night. No one is around but you and that's what gives him the confidence to push you against the brick wall of the shop, to lean back into your space and ask the question that he never got an answer to.

"Do you like me, baby?" It's more intimate this time, but less pressured. There are no eyes on you, there are no bright bar lights or teammates getting an eyeful. Something about the dimness of the night, the cool air, the feel of his jacket over your shoulders and him, oh him, leaning into your space again, has you answering honestly.

"Yeah, yeah I do..."

There's a silent conversation that happens as his hand comes up to rest against your throat, thumb rubbing against the underside of your chin. He watches you carefully and you try to answer him without words, that you want this, that you really do like him.

Whatever Clay sees must be enough because he's leaning in slow, just slow enough for you to dip out if he's misread the situation, hand tightening just slightly around your throat before his lips are slanting over yours.

It's not a frantic kiss, not forceful or aggressive. He kisses you like a slow dance, like your the sweetest thing he's ever tasted and he's trying to savour it, enjoy it for as long as he can. Lips soft and slow against yours, tongue licking into your mouth unhurried and patient. If anyone is impatient it's you, your hands tangling into his hair and tugging until he groans against you, until that patience breaks just enough for him to start devouring your mouth like he's a glutton for you.

When Clayton finally pulls back from you you're both heaving in breaths, chests bumping against each other and lips kiss bitten. The smile he gives you is so soft, so sweet it makes you want to melt into a puddle, his eyes crinkling as just a hint of his teeth comes out to play.

"Can I take you on a date?" His nose bumps against yours, purposeful in the brush against your own like he can't stand to be too far away from you right now.

"Yeah, you can take me on a date, Clayton Keller."

"Good, cause I really need an excuse to punch the next guy that looks at you funny," He jokes causing you to let out a huff of a laugh, hand escaping his hair to whack his shoulder admonishingly.

"Don't you dare!"

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 9 Update

Okay so Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 9 is almosttttt done! I've just about finished writing it out but it's gonna need hella edits, so expect it to drop next weekend or Valentine's day weekend? Thanks for your patience here all! It will be a 40-50 page chapter. There's a lot to cover!!!

Posting a snippet of Chapter 9 below as a holdover - the plot is ofc subject to change! But want you to enjoy a lil dramaaaa while you wait! :)

“Well…” Toru says nervously into the phone.

“What?” Hitoshi says blankly, turning to you for an explanation about your friend’s uneasiness with that piece of the plan.

“So. Um. Mineta didn’t volunteer to be our distraction out of the kindness of his heart.” You say awkwardly as Hitoshi’s tired eyes bore into your own. “We promised him that he’d get to kiss me in exchange for his services as bait for Mr. Vlad.”

“Damn. Offering sexual favors in exchange for services rendered? You guys are way more hardcore than I thought.” Hitoshi actually looks impressed. “So hopefully Mineta didn’t say anything about that fun little bargain to Mr. King after he got caught. Sexual Quid Pro Quo is definitely grounds for some kind of legal action or punishment.”

The blood in your veins goes cold. Shit.

“But it was his idea!” Mina shrieks through the phone’s tiny speakers. You wince at the sound. You feel shaky like you might start crying again.

“Yeah but you all agreed to it. And Mineta held up his end of the bargain. This could be really bad if the school found out about it.”

Neito mouths something angrily on the screen and the corner of Hitoshi’s mouth quirks upwards fondly.

“Neito…you’re on mute, babe.” He says in that gravely voice of his.

Monoma quickly unmutes himself and repeats what he was saying:

“But it’s only a kiss! It’s not like we promised Y/N would sleep with him or anything!” He says, gesturing wildly. His face is a bit pink in response to Hitoshi’s using such an unexpected term of endearment.

“It doesn’t matter…you still made a trade of a physical favor for a service. I don’t know what kind of punishment they’d slap you with, but this sort of thing would definitely rub the UA administration the wrong way if they found out about it. Let’s just hope Mineta didn’t say anything too incriminating. I can stop by his dorm and ask him before I got to bed, if you’d like.” Hitoshi smirks. “I think he’s afraid of me, so I’d probably be the best person to do it.”

“Could you, please?” You say in a strained voice. Hitoshi looks over and sees how pale you’ve gone, he awkwardly pats your shoulder in what he must think is a reassuring way.

“Yeah, for sure. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” He retracts his hand from your shoulder and gives you a thumbs up.

“Alright. I think we’ve mostly got our story straight. Don’t mention the alcohol. Don’t mention me needing to kiss Mineta. Don’t mention Hatsume. Don’t mention Spin The Bottle. Say we wanted to throw a game night to promote unity and bonding between Classes A and B. We good?” You quickly recap, counting off your fingers as you make each statement. “Dang, that’s a lot to keep track of.”

Everyone nods to confirm that they’re aligned (Toru doesn’t say anything to indicate that she’s not aligned, so you assume she’s invisibly nodding).

A message appears at the top of your phone screen from Shoto, a tiny preview of his text reads out in a bubble:

Shoto: You doing alright?

You quickly move to swipe the bubble away, hyperaware that Hitoshi can see any message that flashes across your screen. You quickly remind yourself that it’s not weird for your classmates to check up on you -  you’re one of the party ringmasters, after all! And the message Shoto had sent was completely innocent, so…

Another message from Shoto scrolls across the screen as Toru rattles off a list of questions for Hitoshi to ask Mineta. You try to swipe the message away but you accidentally pull up the text screen over your friend’s FaceTime faces.

Shoto: This sounds awful to say, but getting to sneak away with you to the janitor’s closet almost makes getting caught worth it.  

You swipe desperately to get the text screen to disappear and after a moment succeed. Toru is still speaking, saying something about Hatsume’s drones. You throw a terrified glance at Hitoshi’s direction. He’s looking at you, violet eyes wide with shock. His eyebrows are comically far up his forehead.

Oh yeah, he definitely just got a glance at Shoto’s text.

Oh God. Now he knows.

“Alright, Hagakure.” Hitoshi quickly turns back to the screen and nods in agreement at whatever your friend is saying. His facial expression instantly falls back to neutral –his eyebrows relaxing and his eyes narrowing back to their usual lazy squint. You stare straight ahead and try to keep all of your blood from rushing to your face. You feel hot all over but in a bad way. You don’t know Hitoshi super well, but you know he’s a good person. He wouldn’t spill your biggest secret to the world, right?

Hitoshi seemingly ignores you as he continues talking into the FaceTime. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Alright, I’ll ask him all of that. I think we’re all on the same page – get a good night’s sleep everyone.”

Good nights are exchanged, and one by one your friends drop off the call. Hitoshi clicks off your phone so that the screen goes back. He slowly turns to you, his expression still uncharacteristically surprised.

His voice is as even and measured as ever when he says:

“Holy shit, Y/N. How long have you been fucking Shoto Todoroki?”

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

HAHAHAHAA Okay so yeah that's part of Chapter 9! I'll keep plugging away and hopefully will have it your way soon! For now, here's the rest of the series to catch up on <3

Shoto's First Kiss Series so far:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6

Part 7: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 7

Part 8: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 8

XOXO,

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

P.S. Here's the link to my 🔥Master List! 🔥 I just posted a new story feat. a super hot and mushy Touya Todoroki if you're into that sort of thing: Touya Todoroki: Sexy Uber Driver!? | Touya x Reader AU Imagine 🌶 💕

[fiber-optic-alligator]

My guilty pleasure is that in a self-aware AU, the LL bots would watch the human liaison in the same way us viewers watch Transformers …like watching Tiktok slide shows abt the liaison's fun facts like they have a habit of avoiding eye contact because it felt too intimate to which Roddy exclaimed: "No wonder their little optics always avert elsewhere whenever I talk to them faceplate to faceplate. First time they worked here, I thought maybe because they’re nervous talking to Magnus but no…apparently it happens to every others whom they talk to…mech or femme”

Or maybe the liaison has developed a disturbingly good detection of who’s approaching by taking notes of their pede steps; was actually extremely lazy before working at the LL which baffled the bots since they’re a pretty hard-working individual; has ADHD which made sense to Magnus as he noticed that if he verbally instructed them instead of visually, they would’ve been extremely confused; the liaison is canonically a hardcore goth at heart despite always wearing office uniforms ; likes dressing themself up in Lolita fashion but the thoughts of one bot catching them wearing such clothes got them embarrassed so they never let any of them know; etc…

Of course the bots very much enjoyed learning said facts because even though they’re close, they still pretty much tries to keep it professional much to the bots’ dismay

Or just random sad/depressing facts they learned about the liaison that got the bots feeling bad for them like growing extreme anxiety after an incident including the DJD members which explained why they hyperventilate violently at the sound of pedes almost identical to Tarn’s or despite how much the bots had hung around with the liaison, they felt as if their hospitality is just to make the liaison feel less alone and that they had never truly felt seen or included; never really tried to bond with them in fear of being seen as annoying or getting overly attached just to realize the bots may only treat them as work colleagues, nothing more or less; etc…

And that just motivated most of them into making the liaison feel more welcomed or at least to encourage them to speak up instead of bottling up and that they are not a nuisance.

P/S: So yeah, I just randomly watch some TF slideshows about character fun facts and that got me the idea of how the LL bots would react doing the same thing like me, just watching fun facts abt the liaison like how we did to our favorite characters ( can be either platonic or romantic )

Cybertronians develop their version of TikTok, only it is just them making slideshows about humans and just listing off the different things they think specific humans would like, facts about them, etc. That is awesome, I love it lmao!

[dreamyyesenia]

Always Keep Simming - Writing Scientific Papers and Planning Adventures

With the support of her family (especially her cats), Aileen Blackburn was motivated and spent night after night writing on her paper on cloning. Whenever she started to worry and needed to talk about the millions of thoughts and ideas in her head, her husband Colin was there to listen, to encourage her, to make her laugh. The cats never left her side. By the end of the first half of summer, the paper was finished. But Aileen wasn’t quite ready to send it in just yet. This would be the riskiest move of her entire career. As summer vacation was approaching anyway, Aileen and Colin decided to take some time off to go on an adventure with the kids. One more big adventure before a new chapter would start... 🏝️

-

Note:

The next posts will cover the Blackburn’s vacation time and there’s less storytelling, just having a good time. Mostly I was working on Aileen and Colin’s bucket lists which consisted of adventures in Sulani and Tomarang! I had a lot of fun and (as always) took 1 mill shots of sunsets and sunrises. Oh and Gavin and Gemma will age up! I can’t wait for you guys to see their teen pictures (I‘m obsessed 😭)

[riiwriting]

Another Year | Lucifer (Obey Me)

summary : after a big, rowdy birthday party that you were not expecting, you end your birthday the way you really wanted to -- getting the eldest brother to open up.

a little blurb based on your year 2 birthday call from luci in the og game! based on the original dialogue, though it won't be exact.

warnings : none! just a lot of fluffs hehe

You silently thanked the stars as you fell backwards against your mattress, your eyes immediately shutting around a pounding headache. You were so genuinely grateful to see another birthday come and go in the Devildom, but you were undeniably exhausted. You loved the boys, and you loved how much they had grown into showing their affection for you, there was no doubt about that. However, it would be nice if once in a while they asked before doing things.

For the second year in a row, your birthday was celebrated with a surprise party at the House of Lamentation, complete with decorations, am esteemed guest list of your favorite people, and a cake baked by Barbatos himself. While the effort was most definitely appreciated, it still wasn't how you would have chosen to celebrate the day.

Since you first arrived in the Devildom, it was rare that you saw an uneventful day. If Mammon and Asmo had taken a moment to consult you before going into full party-planner mode, you would have told them as such. Of course, such wasn't the case, and you ended up having quite an overstimulating evening. Though you did manage to have fun throughout the night, you were extremely happy to be in bed.

You were just beginning to feel yourself drift off when your D.D.D began to buzz on your pillow. Unintentionally, you let out a groan as you peeled one eye open to glance at the glowing screen. As soon as you recognized the contact photo, your expression brightened, and you found yourself immediately regretting your temporary annoyance. You hit answer, a content smile on your face as you pressed the speaker to your ear. "Hello?"

"MC, hello. I'm sorry my brothers caused yet another ruckus this year," Lucifer was immediately apologizing, his deep voice quiet in your ear.

His consideration made your stomach flutter. A year ago, you would've convinced yourself that he was just seeing it as his duty to make sure you're surviving in the Devildom. Now, you knew better. "I am a bit tired, I won't lie to you," you admitted bashfully.

Your words were met by a sigh, "I apologize. They went a bit overboard this time." After a moment of contemplation, he added, "I'll make sure to scold them accordingly tomorrow."

You couldn't help the slight laugh that left your lips. "Oh please let them be, Luci. It was a nice party, really. The effort was nice," you insisted, feeling a bit guilty. The thought really was what mattered, and the boys went to great lengths to make the night special. The last thing you wanted was for them to feel as though they had done something wrong.

Lucifer hummed, before conceding with a begrudging promise not to mention it. You enjoyed a comfortable silence as Lucifer apparently shifted about his room on the other end of the line. Just as you felt your eyes begin to lid once more, his throat cleared, and his voice returned. "I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday again. I admit I'm quite happy we got to celebrate another of your birthdays together," he admitted sweetly.

A smile naturally curved onto your lips as you quietly thanked him. "Of course," he responded quickly, and if you could see his face, you imagined his cheeks were, by this point, probably a bit flushed. "I'm sure humans get to celebrate far fewer birthdays than we demons do."

The thought brought a twist of fear to your chest. Being here, it was so easy to forget about your mortality. Other than Mammon's casual insistence on calling you "his human," it was easy to ignore the fact that you didn't really belong here at all. And yet, here you were, and after two years and two wonderful birthdays, you couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

"I've loved spending my last couple of birthdays here," you told Lucifer, your eyes closed as you snuggled further back into your pillows. "Even with the parties."

Another low chuckle drifted through your D.D.D. as Lucifer took in your words. "I feel very lucky to have gotten to spend not just one, but now two birthdays with you," he gushed, the admission the most open you had heard him in a while.

Before you could sort out what to say that would be just as meaningful, he surprised you again. "If possible, I'd like to celebrate many more of your birthdays in the future," he murmured. There another brief pause, before his gravely voice returned soothingly to your ears. "If we do get to spend your next birthday together, perhaps I can see that it's a bit more relaxing for you. More special."

You weren't sure if it was the exhaustion beginning to seep into your bones, or the way his voice sounded in the silence of the night, or your sudden realization of how short your time here might really be, but a spark of confidence lit up your chest. "Do we really have to wait a year for that?" you asked quietly, your sleepiness evident in your tone.

There was a very brief pause, ended by Lucifer saying, "It's getting rather late, MC. You said yourself that you're tired, you should get some sleep."

You hardly gave your next words a thought before they were tumbling out of your mouth, "Is that not something we can do together?"

This time, there was no pause. "I'll be there in a moment, then," he said curtly. The call dropped before you had a chance to respond.

Turning on your side to face your bedroom door, you waited patiently for the forty seconds it took for him to reach your end of the hall. There was a light knock on the wood, though from the way the door immediately creaked open, you knew it was more a formality than anything. The light from the hall illuminated a familiar physique, clad in nice blue pajamas and a messy bedhead. "MC?" Lucifer spoke quietly into your room, his gaze falling onto you almost immediately.

Rather than respond, you simply stretched your arms out in his direction, wordlessly inviting him into your embrace. He wasted no time in letting the door click shut behind him before taking a few long strides to cross your room. You shuffled over to make space as he peeled back your blankets and slid between the sheets beside you. Immediately, his arms were around your waist, holding you tightly against him. As soon as your head found a comfortable place on his chest, you felt his entire body relax.

You couldn't help the sigh of contentment that left your lips. "Perfect," you murmured dreamily.

Gentle fingers traced up and down the length of your arm, making it increasingly harder to resist the sleepiness rising behind your eyes. "You are, yes," you heard Lucifer murmur into the top of your head. "I hope you've had a nice birthday."

At his words, you tipped your chin upwards, dragging your eyes open to look up at the handsome demon in your bed. "The day was nice," you responded. Then will a small smile, you added, "but this has made it much better."

Lucifer's smile grew to mirror yours, his eyes drifting as he admired every inch of your face. "I'm glad I could make your birthday special," he responded softly, his fingertips moving from your arm to your cheek. Delicately, you felt his thumb brush down the outline of your face before coming to a stop beneath your chin. You leaned into his touch, a change in body language that he read perfectly.

Your eyes slid shut as he pulled you closer, eliminating the little bit of space left between you. When his lips met yours you melted, your fingers gripping the silk fabric of his open pajama shirt. With one of his arms wound around you waist, he held you as though he was afraid you might disappear. After a moment, you pulled away, opening your eyes to see Lucifer's affectionate smile.

"Happy birthday, my darling," he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Now I think we could both use some rest."

Humming in agreement, you snuggled into him and let your eyes drift shut. With his arms around you, and your weight pleasantly pressed against his body, each of you slept better than you had all year.

[mrgrumpwood]

I got bored and decided to do a tier list based on what I think each Sonic character's race/ethnicity would be. All of these are also my opinion as well so please don't get mad at me for this.

Here's my explanation for each tier (if interested):

1st tier: personally, I think Sonic could be a mix of literally everything. I couldn't think exactly what race he could be, so I made a special tier for Sonic

2nd tier: honestly what else can I say other than they all give off the vibes that they could be Latino (coming from a Latina herself :D)

3rd tier: come on, we all know Knuckles is black without a doubt. as for Vector, he was one of the few that I actually had trouble deciding where I should place him in. but the longer I was staring at him, the more I was getting my answer without anybody telling me 💀

4th tier: the first two were easy to place, Marine was the one I had trouble placing as well but I eventually put her there

5th tier: this is the tier where I feel like I had to explain why I place them there without having to make an entire specific tier for each one. So let's go on with that:

Tails: I think he could be a mix of white and Asian

Amy: the same goes with her, I think she could be a mix of white and Asian (and a little bit of Hispanic as well ^-^)

Silver: this is where the "I don't know" part comes in. I think he could be a mix of Asian and something else but I couldn't think of what exactly that could be

Jet: I feel like he's mix. with what, that I do not know

Wave: I got the vibe that she is Latina and black

Storm: honestly idk I just placed him there just because

Cream: I had trouble placing her anywhere so I just put there because it just felt (somewhat) right

6th tier: they're all white (no further explanation)

7th tier: robots :)

8th tier: idk why but I thought it would be funny if I made Metal his own tier like I did with Sonic, that's why he's there. now why specifically is he Hispanic? simple: I also think it would be funny as well

In all, all of this is based on MY OPINION and this tier list was made out of boredom and for fun.

Thank you for my TED Talk :)

[instantpansies]

green leaves on a summer's day

spoilers obviously

oh my word that was hilarious. feels like an instant classic, reminds me of their middle-ish-older chaotic longforms. it's giving bus, it's giving killed mum, it's giving jockey....i'm immediately obsessed.

this play didn't grip me like some. it's not going on my new top five. but it was very very funny and so rewatchable and just. it's so nice to see them just let loose and do something ridiculous.

aj......that kiss....oh my word. he really went for it. honestly 100% what i'd expect from an aj/aj couple, like, that's exactly what the dynamic/vibe would be.

henry twiliger is very intriguing. what's his deal

i'm getting vibes of that folktale about the giant who lived in a garden and all the kids would come play with him, what's that called? let me google... the selfish giant. oscar wilde. the whole play is rather folktale-y and i love that . honestly this might actually become a favorite if i watch it a few times lol

i loveeee a creepy tom villain and we've been eating so well these past several longforms!!! yay!!! mrs twiliger is going on the list with lots. loco, annabelle, and krampus :3

the atrocious southern usa accents make a return and this time they're going for....well i thought louisiana but they kept bringing up the miami dolphins so. florida? who's to say. i think it's so funny that their "rural" american accents (specifically sam's) are always exactly the same. the syllables he chooses to accentuate are random and ridiculous and just. it adds to the chaos i think

this was so fun. so silly, kind of relaxing to have a less plot-heavy--well idk i guess it did have a pretty coherent story--but a less intensely woven narrative. there were literally five characters. it's nice, really nice. i approve.

i won't rate it now since i've only seen it once, and not in one sitting, but i'll give it a preliminary 4 sfth members out of 5 unique characters. sparkle emoji sparkle emoji

oh hey now aj has had tom's fingers in his mouth twice

[tickly-trashcan]

Birthday Gifts {Caitlyn x Vi}

Hear Me Out Cake Event!

A/N: HAPPY HEAR ME OUT CAKE EVENT DAY EVERYONE!! hehe i had so much fun writing for this event and everyone's pieces so far have been so CUTE im really excited to see what the rest of the event will bring!! I hope everyone is looking forward to it and has a fun time hehe~

(Caitlyn was requested anonymously, so I hope this finds you somehow hehe!!)

Summary: It's Caitlyn's birthday, and Vi has a very special gift for her. (contains minor spoilers for arcane season 2!)

Word Count: 1.9k (under the cut!)

Caitlyn frowned as she looked at all of her birthday gifts. A variety of expensive bouquets, fancy bonbons from confectionaries all over Piltover, custom made trinkets and intricate stuffed dolls… She was grateful to have so many people even think of her, but she knew that most of these people did not know her.

This was the privilege and curse of being a Kiramman — many houses and high-class people would try and gain benefits through the Kiramman name, and one of the easiest ways to earn favor was to offer something of worth. At least, worth in the sense that it was expensive or rare, not worth in the sense that it would mean anything to Caitlyn.

With a sigh, Caitlyn began to go through the large pile that had begun to amass in her room. Every year she would receive unnecessary things, and every year she would write sugar-coated cards that would thank the gifters, and every year the gifts would wilt or spoil or collect dust in the corner of her room until they were eventually removed.

Caitlyn hated the waste, but there was nothing she could do with the gifts otherwise — regifting to anyone in Piltover would be detrimental to the Kiramman name, as it would make her seem ungrateful for the gifts she had been offered. But she had no use for any of the gifts, so she would simply grin and bear it as she did all her life.

As Caitlyn read the birthday cards that were tied with fine ribbon to her gifts, she made a mental list of who had given her what. She got so distracted by keeping track of who had given her the chocolates and who had given her a mechanical ballerina that she did not even notice the door to her bedroom opening.

Caitlyn flinched at the sound of an impressed whistle. She whipped her head around and immediately any annoyance and tension that was building up in her was dissolved.

“Happy birthday, Cupcake,” Vi said with a bashful smile. “Sheesh, did I even need to get you anything for your birthday? Seems like you have quite the hoard already.”

Caitlyn rolled her eye and strolled up to Vi, pulling her into an embrace. “Mmm… Just because I have a hoard of material objects doesn’t mean I quite have what I want, yet. Well... I do now.”

Vi kissed the crook of Caitlyn’s neck as they hugged. When they finally pulled away, Vi kissed Caitlyn’s brow and gently rubbed her cheek with her thumb. “You’re too sweet, Cait. But really, I’m kind of embarrassed to give you your gift, now.” Vi handed Caitlyn a small, poorly wrapped gift that was tied up with a piece of dark pink string. “I couldn’t even find nice wrapping paper… It’s just some newspaper I nabbed on the way up.”

Caitlyn shook her head, cupping Vi’s cheeks. “I’m grateful you even thought to get me something. All of these? They’re people that are just hoping to curry favor with my family, they don’t even know what I like.” Caitlyn took the gift from Vi and held her hand. “I want to open yours now… Sit with me?”

Vi nodded her head and Caitlyn led them to her bed, where they sat on the end as Caitlyn gingerly began to untie the string. She chuckled as she struggled with it, and Vi rubbed the back of her neck. “I triple-knotted it…”

“Like a bootlace?”

“What if it came undone?!”

Caitlyn laughed loudly and leaned against Vi’s shoulder, finally managing to untie the string. She tore apart the newspaper, which had been surrounding an old cardboard box. She opened it, and inside was another cardboard box, though this one was new and did not look like it had been tossed around.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at Vi. “This isn’t one of those gifts where I have to open ten or more boxes to get to it, is it?”

Vi shook her head with a chuckle. “No, I’m just terrible at wrapping. Your gift is in that box.”

Caitlyn smiled and opened the lid on the smaller cardboard box. Inside was a small wooden music box with a cursive ‘C’ carved into the top of the light wood. It did not look like it was made by a professional artisan, but there was a small note tied to the key of the music box, which Caitlyn tilted slightly to read.

“For the sweetest cupcake,” Caitlyn read aloud, a small smile growing on her lips. “I am so lucky to love you… P.S. the ‘C’ stands– stands for... Vi, I can’t read this, the words are too small.”

“The ‘C’ stands for ‘Caitlyn’ not ‘cupcake,’ I just wanted to make sure you knew that,” Vi said with a grin. “I know it’s nothing fancy, but–”

Caitlyn pressed her lips to Vi’s before she could say anything else and pulled her in close. After a few moments, she pulled away and laughed softly. “Vi, this is… I don’t even know what to say. I love you so much… I’ve never gotten a gift with this much thought in it!” Caitlyn laughed. “And to think you were embarrassed because of all those other gifts… Vi, this is the best gift I’ve gotten.”

Vi smiled softly. “You haven’t even listened to the music, yet.”

Caitlyn hummed and held up the music box, twisting the key. As it began to play, Caitlyn let herself lean into Vi, listening to the tune that played.

“Is this…?”

“Sweet little lamb, dry your tears,” Vi began to sing along softly to the tune as Caitlyn felt her heart swell. “Stay here close, have no fear… The shepherd is gone, but I’m still here… Sweet little lamb, I’m still here…”

“Dear little lamb, close your eyes,” Caitlyn chimed in at the familiar lullaby, staring at the music box as it played the tune. “We’ll be safe beneath these skies… The sun has set, but the moon will rise… Dear little lamb, the moon will rise…”

The music box slowed to a stop and there was silence for a few moments. Caitlyn looked at Vi with awe, unable to express just how much the music box meant to her.

“Vi– This is– How did you know about this lullaby?”

Vi smiled and let her arm wrap around Caitlyn’s waist, pulling her in more as she kissed the top of her head. “You mentioned once that your mother would sing you a lullaby about a lamb to get you to sleep. I wanted you to have something to remember her by… I found that in an antique shop just outside Piltover, but I carved the ‘C’ in it myself.”

Caitlyn sighed softly and clutched the music box close to her chest. “Vi… I truly don’t know what to say. I don’t deserve you, I–”

Vi shook her head and rubbed Caitlyn’s shoulder. “You deserve the world, Cait. I got you this because it’s your first birthday without her, but… Cait– Hey, look at me. You don’t have to say anything for me, this is for you. I’m just glad you like my gift, that’s all I need.”

Caitlyn wanted to tell Vi that there was so much more to this gift than she truly realized. This had given her back a piece of her mother, a piece of something she had lost and never thought she would ever be able to put back together. Vi had experienced loss like Caitlyn, and it was loss that had brought them together and had torn them apart and had helped them heal together again. This music box was not just a thoughtful gift — this music box was so much more.

But instead of saying anything else, Caitlyn nodded her head and pressed her lips to Vi’s.

After they kissed for a few moments, Caitlyn pulled away and looked once more at the music box. She walked it over to her bed stand and placed it beside her carafe. She walked back over to Vi and sat in her lap facing her, cupping Vi’s cheeks.

“Thank you for making my birthday so special…”

Vi smiled and put her hands on Caitlyn’s hips, gently rubbing her thumbs against them. “I hope I can make you feel special every day.”

Caitlyn chuckled. “You make me feel special more than I need to. But today… I think today is a good day to feel special.”

Vi hummed. “You know, I haven’t been counting how many times I’ve kissed you today.”

Caitlyn raised her eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change in topic. “Does it matter?”

“Well, I have to give you twenty-six kisses for your birthday… But I suppose a few extra won’t hurt, right?”

Caitlyn rolled her eye and giggled when Vi began to pepper her neck with kisses. “Hey, that tickles! Vi–!” Vi gently lifted Caitlyn off her lap and onto the bed, continuing to kiss her sporadically all over her neck and jaw. Caitlyn huffed and then began to laugh when Vi gently pinched at her sides. “Wahahait! Don’t actually tickle mehehe!”

“But– You’re so– Cute–!” Vi said, kissing Caitlyn between almost every word. She had begun to kiss Caitlyn’s cheeks and nose as well “Don’t– Make me– Lose– Count–!”

Caitlyn squealed softly when Vi squeezed her hips. “Vi–! Ehehehe!”

Vi slowed down on her kisses and her tickles. She became more purposeful with where she placed her lips and her hands traced gentle circles on Caitlyn’s sides, bringing out sweet giggles as she looked up at Vi with a soft look.

“Twenty-two,” Vi said before kissing Caitlyn’s collarbone. “Twenty-three…” A kiss to Caitlyn’s jaw, just below her ear.

Caitlyn giggled softly, watching Vi as she continued. “Twenty-four,” Vi kissed Caitlyn’s left cheek. “Twenty-five,” Then she kissed Caitlyn’s right cheek.

“One more…” Vi said with a sweet smile, her lips hovering just over Caitlyn’s lips. Caitlyn let her eye flutter shut, but was then surprised by a quick kiss to her nose. “Twenty-six!”

Before Vi could laugh or joke or tease, Caitlyn had her arms around Vi’s neck, pulling her in for a real kiss. Caitlyn could feel Vi melt under her touch and she smiled into the kiss.

“That was twenty-seven,” Vi said with a small smirk.

Caitlyn shrugged. “Well, it made me feel special. Isn’t that the point of today?”

Vi laughed and nodded before pressing her forehead to Caitlyn’s. She tucked some of Caitlyn’s hair behind her ear and then gestured to the pile of gifts in the corner of the room.

“Well, special girl, you still have one or two or a hundred gifts to go through… Do you need any help eating those fancy-looking candies?”

Caitlyn groaned. “I suppose I could use some help…” An idea popped into Caitlyn’s head and she looked up at Vi with her eye bright. “Actually, I think I could use a lot of help.”

Vi raised an eyebrow and Caitlyn stood up, walking over to the pile of gifts. “These almost always go to waste, but… Do you think some of the children in the Undercity would also like to feel special today? I can’t really give these out to anyone in Piltover, otherwise there would be some… well, let’s just say I would have more of a headache dealing with unhappy gifters than writing one or two or a hundred thank-you notes.”

Vi looked at Caitlyn with a wide smile and she nodded her head. “I’m sure there would be quite a few kids who would love this stuff…” Vi walked over to Caitlyn and they began to sort through the gifts. “You’re so special, Cait.”

Caitlyn nudged Vi with a grin. “It’s because it’s my birthday!”

[vampiricstoryteller]

I Only Have Eyes 42

Hey! Omg y’all I’m so nervous about this fic. It’s finally time for me to start this Richter x Annette x Alucard journey I’ve been wanting to go on. Here is the first of three chapters, I really hope y’all like it.

Summary: Annette does not want to be paired with Richter Belmont for this philosophy project. She would rather sweep the ocean floor. Richter has no real opinion on philosophy but Annette has captured his attention in a way no one has in a long time. Adrian, just loves making pizza and wants his friend to be happy. The three of them together brings about a love none of them were truly prepared for.

Read story on A03 here

All mistakes are my own

Warnings: cursing, smut thoughts, implications, polyamory

Chapter One: Double the Fun, Triple the Time for Love

Annette is vaguely aware of Richter Belmont, because they have Philosophy of Humanity together on Mondays, Wednesdays and alternating Fridays. It’s a year long class worth double the credits with less than twenty students. How could she not at the very least, know his name?

He sits two rows behind her, in the same spot, to the left and usually wears a royal blue hoodie with an emblem on it she had to ask a friend for clarification on.

“Oh, thats his family’s legacy.” Edouard told her right around Halloween. The two of them knee deep in alterations for a costume party they were going to.

“Richter’s family can be traced back centuries over in Europe. London specifically.” Edouard explained further. “They provided a lot of weapons during the wars, then his great great grandfather pivoted towards politics and they’ve been untouchable since.”

Annette took the clump of information in stride. Old British Money was not something she ever wanted to get mixed up with. She’d rather sweep the ocean floor than ever have to be in the same room as a Prime Minister.

She must sit with what her friend tells her for too long because he smirks later that night when they part ways, and gives her one final bit of information.

“Rumor that went around for a while was that Richter and his grandfather Juste basically hate each other, but they both love Richter’s mother Julia, Juste’s daughter, so they comprised by giving him space over here in America but paying the way for it.”

Besides what Edouard tells her, and she seriously wonders how deeply her friends web of information runs, Annette knows next to nothing about The Belmont Family line and as an exchange student, she has no real interest in learning about families with old money. It’s not like they were going to give any of that money to her.

So Annette brushes him from her mind. She’s trying to earn back to back degrees with no break while pay half the tuition out of pocket, there’s barely enough hours in the day for herself; her thoughts about Richter are nonexistent.

Until they’re paired together for a project thats worth their entire grade.

It’s the second day back from winter vacation when their Philosophy professor hands out a thick packet and explains that after covering the basics during first semester, it’s now time to learn how to apply the information in real life.

“You’ll find your partners name on the inside flap, please use today’s class time to introduce yourselves and compare schedules.” Dr. Higsmen says, his stubby hands folded on the podium. “You should be meeting three times or more a week. We’ll start presentations on May 1st.”

Annette flips her packet open and stares down at the name listed underneath hers.

Richter Belmont

Her left eye twitches, she can feel the headache forming underneath her temples already and Annette has just started contemplating if it’ll look bad for her to ask to a new partner when a shadow appears over her shoulder. She closes her eyes for a second, takes a deep breath then turns and tilts her head up.

He is, quite possibly, the most handsome man she’s ever seen. Tall and lean, pretty blue eyes, dark hair that he actually knew how to comb and long fingers that are tapping rhythmically on his packet; Richter smiles down at her nervously.

“Hi, you’re Annette, right?”

She blinks then nods slowly, lifting her backpack from the seat next to her. “That’s me.”

“Cool,” he flashes her a smile as he pulls the chair out a bit and sits next to her. “I’m Richter, it’s nice to officially meet you.”

He extends one of his hands to her, his blue eyes searching over her and her desk while she eyes him warily before she puts down her pen and lets her hand slide into his.

His skin is softer than Annette could have ever expected it to be. There are callouses, of course, and a lot of them but his long boney fingers are soft to the touch and she barely keeps her thumb from stroking the back of his hand.

“Nice to meet you too.” She murmurs, ducking her head when he lets go of her.

“You’re new here aren’t you?”

He sounds genuinely curious so Annette nods, keeping her eyes from rolling. “Yes, I was accepted into the exchange program.”

“Oh nice,” Richter smiles, his face turning thoughtful as he adds on. “Your accent sounds very island based, maybe Dominican or Haitian?”

Annette blinks in surprise, ever since arriving at the end of last summer she has heard the same misplacement of her accent over and over. They all automatically assumed she was from Jamaica, which was ridiculous when one actually thought about it. But if Annette was learning anything in America it was that most people don’t put real thought into anything that doesn’t directly benefit them.

Her accent was just a placeholder in small talk, a tidbit of trivia they all wanted to tuck away and use later when they thought it would come in handy. It didn’t actually matter where she was from, just her not being American was enough for most of them to decide if she was useful or not.

And Annette made sure that she was not.

It’s Richter’s tone, however, that keeps the warning bells from ringing through her mind. He sounds……pensive, like he’s truly thinking about where she’s from. And not for any means to an end, just to know. Which was, new…..

Annette clears her throat, mentally shaking herself.

“I’m from Haiti, yes.” She narrows her eyes a bit, trying to remain playful. “You’ve been there before?”

Richter nods, “Once when I was a kid. My grandfather took me when he had a business trip there.” He tilts his head as if remembering.

“And?” Annette prompts, letting one hand rest against her cheek. “What did you think of it?”

“It was beautiful, I was only ten so I couldn’t leave the hotel a lot but I remember the food being amazing.” Richter taps one finger on top of his packet, his blue eyes flickering over to her. “I remember the people were very nice and everywhere smelled amazing, like the earth and warm clay.”

Annette watches him reminisce, a very clear memory playing in his mind judging by the way he subtly jerks and then his cheeks tinge pink.

“Sorry.” Richter reaches back and scratches at his neck. “That must sound weird as hell.”

Annette laughs, surprised at both herself and him.

“No, no it’s alright. I understand what you mean. It does have a very earthy aroma.” She picks at her fingers. “I think it’s one of the things I miss most.”

A beat passes between them, not uncomfortable exactly but there’s definitely a shift from the casual pleasantries. Annette clears her throat and taps on her packet,

“So, uhm, when’s a good time for you for us to start meeting up?”

Richter shrugs, leaning back in the chair until the front legs come off the ground. “Whenever is good for me honestly, do you have a busy schedule?”

“Kinda?” Annette glances at him. “I work a lot but I’m pretty sure I can talk to my boss about it,”

At his curious look; Annette waves dismissively. “I work in the school library, most the time it’s just me sitting there studying and doing nothing. They always tell me I can take time for school work but this is my first actual project so,”

Richter nods, “okay good to know, do you think it’ll be cool for me to join in the library sometimes?”

“I don’t see why not.” She replied.

He reaches into the pocket pouch of his hoodie, pulling out a phone. “Wanna swap numbers? Or instas?”

Annette grabs her own phone from the front zipper on her backpack. “I’m not on social media.” She says unlocking the screen and pulling up the numbers keypad. “So number, if you don’t mind.”

They trade phones, Annette feeling heat rise in her cheeks at how sleek and new his is compared to her cracked screen, duct tapped to hell one. Richter doesn’t seemed bothered by it at all, he taps his number in and makes his own contact. She does the same, unsure if putting her full name is presumptuous or leaving it with just her first is vain.

She decides on her full name, quickly typing it out and hitting save. Annette hands the phone back to its owner, taking hers and putting it back in her bag without even looking at the screen.

Richter taps at his phone for a second, seemingly texting someone back before he puts the device away and turns his blue eyes back to her.

“Do you have any other classes today?” He asks, flipping through the first few pages of his packet. He produces a pen, seemingly out of nowhere, and begins underlining things on the pages before him.

“No but I’ve got to work from 2pm til 8 tonight.” Annette sighs, already exhausted by the long hours she’ll be sitting in that backless chair at the checkout counter.

“Wanna get lunch together then?” Richter asks casually. “We can start brainstorming for our project, get ahead of everyone else.”

Annette blinks and says uncertainly, “Sure, that sounds good.”

He glances at her, “I know a place, has great pizza. It’ll be my treat.”

“Oh you don’t have to—.” Annette starts, shaking her head but Richter only looks to the clock on the wall and nods to himself.

“Come on, we can get there early and be first in line.” He swings his backpack up into his lap and puts his packet inside.

Annette tilts her head at all the different pins that are hooked into the sturdy fabric of his bag. She sees his family emblem immediately but there’s numerous others, different causes, brands, pop culture references and though she can’t place them all she finds the display of individualism somewhat endearing.

Richter looks down at his bag, chuckling a bit. “Oh yeah, I always forget I have so many pins on here.”

Annette smiles. “They’re cool, where’d you get them?”

“My sister got a button maker for Christmas like three years ago and hasn’t stopped since.” Richter says, shaking his head. “She gives them out like candy now.”

Annette nods, putting her packet away as well. She glances around the room, noticing that most of the other pairs have already left. She stands when Richter does, putting on her coat, hiking her backpack up over her shoulder and looking at him expectantly.

He grins at her, “Let’s get outta here.”

Dr. Higsmen bids them a good day as they pass him, packing away his papers into his briefcase.

“Off to Alucard’s then?” The hefty man asks.

Richter nods, opening the classroom door for Annette. Over her head he smiles at their professor and says,

“I always try to get the first slice of the day at least three times a week.” He puffs his chest out proudly. “It’s basically my job at this point.”

Dr. Higsmen laughs, something Annette’s not sure she’s ever heard him do, and waves them on.

“Be sure to tell him hello.”

Richter calls out a goodbye over his shoulder but as they walk down the hall he turns his attention to Annette.

“You like pizza right? I should have asked. Although he does offer other stuff too.” Richter taps his chin. “There are these stuffed garlic knots that will really blow your mind.”

Annette raises both eyebrows, “Pizza is good, as are garlic knots but I’m not that hungry.”

Richter glances at her, at the end of the hall he pulls open the door that leads to the buildings parking lot and motions for her to go first.

“It’s alright, whatever you don’t eat I definitely will.”

It’s a nice day outside, the sun has managed to break up the winter clouds and shines down on the left over snow that remains on the grass from days ago. Annette’s still not exactly used to the snow, it is very pretty but the novelty of it wore off after the second time she slipped on ice.

“Come on, we can take my car.” Richter says stepping into the wet slush of ice that awaits them.

Annette chuckles, “good cause mind doesn’t arrive for a good forty minutes or so.”

When Richter looks back at her in confusion, Annette pointedly stares at the bus stop where a few other students stand waiting for it.

“Right, sorry, dumb of me to assume everyone has a car.” He says shaking his head.

Annette chuckles, raising her hands. “Don’t worry about it.”

When they reach his car, a grey Ford Ranger, she blinks at the sheer size of it. One wheel alone is almost as tall as she is.

“Here, one second I gotta move some stuff around.” Richter says quickly fishing the keys from his jeans.

The truck chirps and he yanks the passenger door open. Annette wakings patiently, her hands shoved into the pockets of her coat as Richter tossed a duffel bag, gym shoes and two more hoodies in the back. He pats the dark colored seat then steps back and offers a hand to her.

“It’s a bit of a up step.” He explains when she raises her eyebrows. “Trust me, you wouldn’t be the first person to fall out of my truck. Maria does all the time.”

Annette chuckles, letting her hand slide into his again. She keeps her eyes on her feet as she climbs into the imposing vehicle. The step up is pretty large, enough to throw her off balance about halfway; Richter’s hand tightens around hers though and he lifts her when her legs fail her.

“All good?” He asks once she’s slid into the seat and their hands disconnect.

“Why is it so high off the ground?” Annette asks exasperated.

Richter chuckles, “Tall people problems, don’t worry you’ll get used to it.”

He shuts the door before Annette can reply, leaving her to force a blush down while he casually walks around the front of the truck to the drivers side. Her eyes track him the entire way, searching his face for any kind of break in his cool demeanor.

When he gets into the truck, Annette rolls her eyes at him not having to jump or or climb; his legs are long enough that he doesn’t even seem to need the step assistance already at the bottom of the door.

“You ready to try the best pizza you’ll ever have?” Richters excitedly, starting the truck and throwing it into reverse.

Annette laughs softly, relaxing back against the dark seats. “I will be the judge of that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It only take about 10 minutes to reach Richter’s destination. He takes her through the back streets, telling her about how much he hates Main Street because it’s full of nothing but tourist attractions and showing her little connecting alleys that she can always use if she’s running late.

Annette finds that she enjoys hearing about the town from the perspective of someone who was basically a local.

“When did you move here?” She asks when they come to the last stop light before the plaza they’re going to.

“Officially four years ago but, my family came to this town for vacation every summer since before I was born.” Richter shrugs, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “My great grandmother was born and raised here, so my family always tried to come back.”

Annette nods, filing the information away under the mental folder she’d created tilted ‘The Belmonts’ and turning her attention to the plaza he’s turning into.

The plaza is fairly small, there’s only seven places of business in total and a small play area for children that only has a jungle gym and two swings. Richter turns into the second section of parking spaces and Annette sits forward a bit to look up at the restaurant.

It’s sign is elegant and in neat cursive, braced on awning of the plaza to look as if the name is double outlined.

‘Alucard’s Pizzería and Wines.’

Annette tilts her head to the side, her nose scrunching a bit as she eyes the outdoor patio and the dark interior design thats visible from the storefront window.

“You don’t like wine?” Richter asks curiously, shutting the truck off and popping open the middle console.

“I have no real opinion on it.” Annette shrugs.

“Oh he’ll love that.” Richter snickers, he stuffs a simple black wallet into his jean pocket and turns his bright blue eyes to her. “You have your passport, right?”

Annette nods, patting her backpack between her feet. “I am not from here; of course I have my passport with me.”

Richter grins, “Let’s go then, im starving.”

Annette has to literally leap from the truck but she manages to land squarely on her feet; her combat boots kicking up a bit of slush at the impact. Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, Annette shuts the stupidly heavy truck door and joins Richter at the front.

“So, you and this Alucard are friends?” She asks as they walk towards the glass doors, their steps in sync.

Richter laughs, “Yes. He is a friend of my family. His dad and my grandfather were army friends.” He pulls open the glass doors for her, smiling down at her when her shoulder brushes his chest. “And Alucard is a nickname; his actual name is—“

“Shouldn’t you be in class?”

Annette startles slightly, blinking her eyes rapidly to adjust in the sudden dimness of the restaurant. About few feet away stands a man, his hands on his hips as he awaits an answer from Richter.

He steps towards them and Annette feels her eyes widen, her breath disappearing from her lungs. If she’d thought Richter was handsome beyond belief, his friend of the family is an angel from above. Long straw yellow hair that’s currently tied up into a bun at the crown of his head, his golden eyes flicker between the two of them curiously despite the disapproving frown on his very very pale face.

“I did go to class! We got our project partners and Mr. Higsmen told us to go get acquainted with each other.” Richter says defensively. “He says to tell you hi by the way.”

He steps behind Annette and puts both hands on her shoulders, guiding her closer to his friend.

“This is my philosophy projects partner, Annette.” Richter sounds proud, though she can’t even begin to ponder what for. “Annette, this is my best friend, Adrian.”

She watches as the blonde rolls his eyes before he steps to them and bows his head deeply to her. He offers a hand, holding Annette’s one in both of his once she reaches out.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Annette.” He says with a smile that could melt iron. “I’m sorry for your unfortunate luck in project partners.”

Annette lets out a laugh, a real one, while Richter squeezes her shoulders and sticks out his tongue.

“Now is that any way to treat your first paying customers of the day?” He steers Annette towards one of the booths near the kitchen door.

“I never make you pay Richter.” Adrian calls after them.

He lets Annette choose which side of the booth she wants to sit on, sliding into the seat across from her with practiced ease. She puts her backpack between herself and the wall, folding her hands on top of the table as she looks around.

“First impressions?” Richter asks, his tone light but Annette can see the genuine worry in his eyes.

She smiles, shrugging one shoulder. “They’re good so far, he owns this place? He seems kind of young to already have his own restaurant.”

“Adrian’s going to be thirty this year.” Richter snickers. “He’s practically an old man.”

“Ah yes, thirty the year of mortality rate, in the stone ages.” The blond deadpans as he approaches the table and lays out two menus, he rests his hip against the back of the bench Richter’s sat in. “So much older compared to your baby like wonder of twenty four.”

Annette watches the two of them over the top of her menu as they descend into a battle of banter. She can see immediate fondness between them, Richter looks up at Adrian with adoration in his gaze despite the jokes flying from his mouth. And Adrian, gives as good as he gets, verbally baiting Richter with little quips until he ends their conversation by tugging on the tuffs of hair around the younger man’s ear.

“What’s your favorite kind of pizza, Miss Annette?” He asks turning his golden gaze to her.

“Ugh please, it’s just Annette.” She scrunches her nose. “I’m twenty three, not thirty three.”

Richter bursts into laughter while Adrian blinks in momentary surprise. He reaches up and pulls hard on Richter’s hair again. “You’re so hyena like today, Richter. Shut up.”

He looks back towards the dark skinned woman and nods, “Annette then, favorite kind of pizza?”

“Pepperoni and black olives.” Annette shrugs. “Weird I know, but I love it.”

“No weirder than this nut job.” Adrian shrugs and tilts his chin at Richter. “When he was a kid he would only eat pizza with macaroni as the topping.”

“Hey!” Richter protests when Annette sticks out her tongue in disgust. “I was a growing boy and needed the nourishment!”

Adrian pats the top of his head. “It’s okay Richter, we’re not judging you.”

“Oh I definitely am.” Annette grins.

Adrian laughs, “you’re going to fit right in Annette.” He pushes away from the booth, the bell above the front door jingling to signal the arrival of new customers. “I’ll bring out some cheese garlic knots, and start your pizzas.”

~~~~~~~~~

Richter hadn’t been lying. Adrian’s pizza was the best Annette had ever had. Hot, thick and gooey with extra cheese; Annette devours the personal one he sits in front of her about twenty minutes after he brings them garlic knots and Arnold Palmer’s.

She’s never had a pizza so deeply rich yet not greasy at all. Even the cheese stuffed garlic knots, slathered with butter, don’t leave much of a stain on the napkin she uses throughout the meal.

It’s very impressive.

As she and Richter eat, they decide to try and meet up twice during each week and once over the weekends up until it’s time to present their project.

“I can always pick you up from work and stuff,” Richter offers. “Do you stay in the student dorms?”

“Yes, but the ones not on campus.” Annette says, “you know the ones that are supposed to replicate real adult life.”

“Except for the RA’s are constantly prowling the halls like vigilantes.” Richter chuckles. “Yes I do know those dorms.”

“They’re the worst.” She sighs shaking her head.

“It’s okay, we can always hang at my place or here. Adrian won’t mind.” Richter says with a firm nod.

As if summoned by Richter’s thoughts alone, the blond appears at their table momentarily.

“Do you guys want dessert?” He asks, a sizzling pizza balanced over his shoulder.

Richter motions towards Annette. “You want a slice of cake?”

She shakes her head, pulling her phone from her backpack. “My shift is gonna start soon.” Glancing at the digital clock on the screen she relaxes at bit when she realizes it’s only 1:15. “Maybe next time?”

Adrian smiles at her, “I have the feeling we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other Annette, so I’ll hold you to that.”

He excuses himself to go drop off the pizza to the family of four waiting. Across from Annette, Richter stuffs the last bit of crust from his own pizza into his mouth. It puffs his cheeks out exaggeratedly and she can’t help the smile the creeps onto her lips.

In her hand, her phone vibrates and the screen lights up to show that Edouard has texted her.

Edouard: still need a ride to work?

Annette blinks, she’d forgotten that originally her plan was to go back to the dorm after philosophy and take a much needed nap. Obviously those plans had been completely derailed.

Annette: yes but I’m not at the dorms. I’m at Alucard’s pizza place. is that too out of the way?

Edouard texts back before she can even close their messages out.

Edouard: I’ll be there in 15 :)

Annette hearts his message in thanks before locking the screen and pulling her attention back to Richter. He’s munching on a left over garlic knot, trying not to watch her but clearly failing as their eyes meet the moment she raises hers.

“Everything okay?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah, my friend was just asking if I still needed a ride. He’s on his way,” Annette explains, sipping at the watered down left overs of her drink. “We work the same shift on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

Richter nods, “That’s cool, I wouldn’t have minded dropping you back off.”

Annette waves dismissively. “It’s out of your way, I’m sure you’d rather hang out with Adrian.”

Richter snorts, glances around the restaurant. “I see him all the time.”

She smiles, “I’ll let you take me back next time.”

Richter grins at her, nodding in agreement. They clean up their table for Adrian, stacking the plates and wiping the surface down. The blond looks incredibly grateful when he passes by them next, snagging the stacked plates with one hand and carding the other hand through Richter’s hair.

Annette catches the faint blush spread across Richter’s cheek and she glances over her shoulder towards the kitchen doors that Adrian disappeared behind. Her mind attempting to fit together the puzzle pieces that have fallen into her lap today.

In her lap, Edouard’s text alerts her to the fact that he’s pulling up and Annette begins shrugging her coat back on. Richter stands when she does, insisting on walking her out of the restaurant.

The smile on her friends face is blinding when he sees her exist the pizzeria.

“Oh,” Richter says happily. “I didn’t know you and Edouard knew each other.”

“Heeeeyyyyy Richter!”

He bends at the waist and waves to the other boy. “Hey Edouard, long time no see.”

Annette rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she sighs out dramatically. “Why am I not surprised, how do you know him?”

“We had three classes together freshman year.” Richter shrugs. “He’s a good dude.”

She hikes her bag up higher on her shoulder, “He is, when I got here last semester I didn’t have any friends and he went out of his way to hang out with me.”

“Yeah that sounds like him.” Richter chuckles, he gently bumps her arm with his own. “Well I hope I can be added to your exclusive friends list this semester.”

Annette blinks, heat burning her cheeks. She’s unsure what to say, should she confirm that she already thinks of them as friends after only one study session where they got basically no studying done? Or would that be too weird?

A beat of silence passes between them and Annette steps back, chewing on her lip. “I’ll uh, text you later I guess?”

“Yeah definitely! Ha—Have a good shift at work.” Richter steps back too. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Annette.”

She nods, waving to him. “See you, Richter.”

They turn from each other, Richter going back inside the pizzeria and Annette ducks into Edouard’s car. To his credit, her friend has kept relatively silent but the moment she closes the door, he reaches over and smacks her arm twice before grabbing the sleeve of her coat and shaking her in excitement.

“Bitch! Not you getting an invite to Richter’s safe space! Bitch!” His voice fills the inside of the car. “Ahhhhhhh! Bitch!”

“Edouard!” Annette laughs, trying to break away from his grip and failing. “Stop! He could still be watching! Go!”

Her friend complies with her wishes, pulling out of the parking space he parked crookedly in and turning in the direction of the college; his laughter and enthusiasm lasting long after they’d clocked in at the library.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your new friend is very pretty.” Adrian comments to Richter later that night as the two men close up the pizza shop.

“Yeah, noticed did you?” Richter teases, placing the last few chairs upside down on their assigned tables.

“How could I not? You’ve never brought any girl here before.” Adrian says, watching Richter from the corner of his eye. He counts out the days profits slowly, making sure to not miss a single cent.

“There’s a first time for everything.” The younger man replies, making his way over to Adrian and hugging him from behind.

“Yes, there is.” Adrian pats Richter’s forearm across his stomach. “And I’m sure there are plenty more brewing in that chaotic mind of yours.”

“She’s different, not superficial and doesn’t care that my last name is Belmont.” Richter says defensively. “I want to be her friend.”

Adrian smirks, folding the days money into the bank envelope for the morning and waiting. Belmonts, very rarely had friends.

“And eventually I want to fuck her.”

The blond snorts. “There it is.”

Richter pinches his hip bone. “I saw you staring at her too, you want her just as much as I do.”

“Why are we having this conversation, Richter?” Adrian asks, twisting his torso so they can look at each other. “What’s your endgame here?”

“I thought you might like to join.”

Adrian blinks, pale eyebrows climbing up his even paler forehead.

“And what gave that impression?”

Richter smirks. “You hate olives on pizza.”

Adrian rolls his eyes. “It’s rude to comment on a customers food choices.”

“Never stopped you before.” Richter laughs, he reaches up and grips Adrian’s chin. “It could be a lot of fun.”

Their lips come together slowly, Richter’s slotting over Adrian’s and his tongue flicking out to run over the bottom lip he’d come to know so well.

It’d taken Richter a long time to convince the older man that he wanted to be affectionate towards him and it was genuine. They’d grown up together, went to school together, Adrian had been there when the problems with his grandfather started and he’d been waiting in America with open arms when Richter couldn’t take being a Belmont anymore. How could he have ever thought that Richter wouldn’t be somewhat seriously in love with him?

They’ve been trying out this friend’s with benefits thing for a little over a year and Richter always made sure that Adrian knew what he was thinking when it came to them. There were no secrets between. He’d never communicated with anyone as much as he did with Adrian. But he’d also never cherished the friendship of someone the way he did his with Adrian.

Neither of them expected it to last long, especially not after Richter has to take over the family business. But that’s at least another three years away, they have time.

“You cannot lie to her, about anything.” Adrian says firmly, the moment they pull apart. “Not about me, not about this, not about your intentions with her.”

“I won’t.” Richter promises. “She’s observant, I wouldn’t be surprised if she hasn’t already thought something’s going on between us.”

“Still, I don’t want you hurting people just for the sake of experience.” Adrian reaches up and cups Richter’s face. “She could be really good for you, don’t ruin it with something stupid.”

“For us.” Richter corrects kissing the inside of Adrian’s wrist. “She could be really good, for us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s uncanny, the way Richter slips seamlessly into Annette’s life. As if he’d always been around and always been her friend. They text all the time, Richter quickly becoming the first person she speaks to in the morning and the last one to wish her sweet dreams at night. They text so much in fact that her phone graduates from backpack zipper pocket to her pant or jacket pockets at all time.

Richter rarely lets more than an hour pass between conversations and Annette, well, she looks forward to talking with him. Her heart beats faster every time she gets a notification with his name on it; he’s great at making her feel like she’s the only person in the world worth his attention.

After that first lunch at Alucard’s, Annette found more often than not she ended up tucked away in the same booth most days of the week. Between classes, work, homework and Edouard, she’s grateful to have the small space to escape to. Adrian had even been nice enough to extend an invitation to her stating that she could always come into his restaurant, even when Richter wasn’t there.

“Your seemingly never ending calm is always a nice change of pace from Richter’s constant energy.” He’d told her when she’d double checked if it was alright for her to hang out one lunch break while Richter met with his counselor.

He’d given her free refills and a slice of cake for the road when she finally packed up her stuff later that day.

Her best friend, is over the moon about the entire situation. Edouard has become not only an even closer friend, he’ll be addicted to the stuffed garlic knots before the month is over, but Annette’s biggest cheerleader in what he calls:

“The Pursuit of Belmont……And Friend”

No matter how hard she tried to emphasize that they are partners on an educational project, Edouard has already begun to plan her outfits for her and Richter’s first few dates. He sends Annette videos on different ways to do her makeup, helps her learn to thread her eyebrows and even started reading the relationship horoscopes for her sign, Richter’s and Adrian’s.

Annette would kill him if she didn’t appreciate his friendship so much.

It’s been three weeks since they got their philosophy packets, and the first Friday that Richter’s asked to meet up on. He’d texted her after his last class, knowing she still had close to an hour left in her lab and Annette responded like she usually did; insisting that she could catch the bus to meet him and that he didn’t have to wait.

She doesn’t even try to be upset when, an hour later, she steps out into the buildings parking lot and sees Richter relaxed in the driver seat of his ranger; waiting for her.

“How was class?” He asks when she approaches the driver side window.

“Good, learned a module while dissecting a rat.” Annette shrugs though she doesn’t move to walk around the truck like she usually would.

“What? Did something happen?” Richter asks, his blue eyes looking over her frame a few times. “You okay?”

“I just, need to go home and change.” Annette looks down at herself. “I smell like lab equipment and sterilized rat.”

Richter chuckles, starting up the truck. “Yeah I figured, come on I’ll take you to your dorm.”

Annette bites at her lip, the same question as always rising on her tongue.

“Are you—.”

“Yes, Annette.” Richter smiles, his eyes determined. “I’m sure, now get in. We can stop by the store on the way back and pick up a few things to make our study session more exciting tonight.”

She sighs dramatically, “alright fine, if you insist.”

He smirks at her, watching her as she makes her way around the front of the car to the passenger side. When she pulls open the door, Richter leans across the middle console and offers his hand.

“Up you get.” He teases with a handsome smile.

She takes his hand, throwing him an unimpressed look as Richter easily pulls her into the truck.

“Do you have to pull everyone into this damn thing?” She grumbles, wiggling in the seat to be more comfortable.

“Just you,” Richter chuckled, starting the truck and backing out of the parking space. “And Maria but she doesn’t count, other than you two I don’t really let anyone in my truck.”

“Right, you haven’t told me much about your sister.” Annette says. “How come I haven’t met her yet?”

“She’s only sixteen, still in high school. She’s not really my sister but we’ve always been close like siblings.” Richter shrugs. “My aunt Tera, her mum and my mum, Julia, are second cousins. So we are related, just distantly. Tera and my mum are the same age and spent every break from school together.”

Annette nods, “Tera and Maria are…”

“In the next town over, directly across the highway. I spend most holidays there but I got my apartment here when I was accepted into the college.” Richter smiles. “You’ll meet Maria soon, she’s obsessed with Adrian teaching her to make pizza. She’s just very popular at school. Head of the debate team, class president, in yearbook club and plays volleyball.”

“A true go getter then.” Annette chuckles.

“She really is, she has big plans for her future and I know she’ll achieve them all.” Richter says proudly. “But she’ll be here for the week of spring break, I know you two will love each other.”

Annette smiles, enjoying seeing Richter talk about his family. She’d been subtly trying to find out more about the Belmonts but so far Richter was willing to admit two things about the people he was related to.

One: He loved his mother, his aunt Tera and Maria.

Two: He hated every other single person he shared blood with. All of them. There was no love lost and he didn’t want to talk about it.

So Annette didn’t push. It wasn’t her place. Not yet anyways.

She doesn’t have long to think about it because soon Richter pulls into the parking garage of her dorm.

“I would invite you up but the RA on today can get pretty mad about coed’s being in each other’s dorms.” Annette says apologetically.

“No worries,” Richter says still unbuckling his seat belt and reaching for the door handle. “It’s Greta working today right? She used to always take Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays.”

Annette laughs, opening the truck door and sliding out of the seat.

“Why am I not surprised that you know Greta.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “Do you know everyone in this town?”

Richter grins at her when they meet in front of the truck and walk together towards the lobby front doors.

“Mostly everyone yeah,”

His words have never proved more true than when they entire the dorm lobby and suddenly everyone turns to stare at them.

“Richter! Hi!”

A brunette bounds over to them, she can’t be much older than them judging by the backpack she has strapped over one shoulder. Her green eyes only flicker to Annette once before she turns her full attention to Richter.

“Hi Stella, nice to see you again.” He says with a pleasant smile. “Where’s Loretta?”

Stella rolls her eyes, “She’s at the gym, she’s obsessed with taking off the ten pounds she gained over Christmas.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Anyways, she’s not important. How are you, Richter? What are you doing here?”

Annette grips the inside of her coat pockets, it’s very clear that Stella intends to ignore her this entire conversation and if it’s one thing Annette refuses to do, it’s stay someplace she’s unwanted. She shifts her backpack, and her nerves and prepares to quietly step to the side when Richter lifts the arm closest to her and drapes it over her shoulders; ruining her plans for escape.

“Annette has to change, she just got done dissecting rats with Professor Stiensworth, you know how that goes.” He says, a different smile on his face. “We’re going to grab some pizza and work on our philosophy project.”

Stella’s entire body goes still, and her green eyes finally look to Annette and take her in completely. Her eyes zigzag over Annette’s clothes, her mind clearly calculating whatever she thinks she’s discovered.

“Oh, you’re going to Alucard’s then?” Stella asks.

“Yeah, I basically work there now anyways.” Richter’s fingers tap rhythmically on Annette’s shoulder and she fights the urge to lean into his side.

“Alucard’s such a nice man,” Stella says dreamily. “Greta really fucked up letting him go.”

Richter nods, pointing to the ceiling. “Is Greta upstairs?”

“Yeah! She’ll be happy to see you.” Stella says excitedly.

“Thanks Stella,” Richter nods, his fingers squeeze Annette’s shoulder and she takes that as a cue to start walking.

They step around Stella together, the brunette trying not to pout as she says cheerfully. “You’re welcome Richter! It was good to see you, message me on Facebook sometime. We should hang out.”

“Yeah maybe.” Richter replies, guiding Annette into the elevator thats thankfully opened up right when they need it to. “See you Stella, tell Loretta I said hello.”

She waves at them until the doors of the elevator ding closed and they start rising up towards the third floor.

“What the hell was that all about?” Annette asks, looking up at Richter with raised eyebrows.

Richter shrugs. “Stella’s nice, just a bit too opportunistic. Her family is old like mine.”

Annette tilts her head back in understanding.

“Her twin, Loretta, is much more fun to be around.” Richter says, his eyes watching the numbers at the top of the elevator.

Before Annette can reply, the doors ding open to signal their arrival to the third floor. They step off together, Richter’s arm still resting across her shoulders. To the left of the elevator sits a small desk and chair, the allotted space for the RA’s who unfortunately get stuck on night duty from time to time.

Tonight, it’s Greta who sits at the desk. A thick tomb of a book in her lap. She looks up when they step into the carpeted hallway, her gaze curious.

“Annette you’re back early.” She says. “How was—“

“Hi Greta.” Richter says over Annette’s head.

She stands, placing her book on the desk and coming to stand in front of them, her hands on her hips.

“What are you doing here, Richter?” She asks flatly.

“Damn, I just said hi.” He chuckles. “Annette and I have a class together and we’re paired for the semester. She needs to change and then we’re going to go study.”

“At Adrian’s?” Greta narrows her eyes.

Richter blows out a breath through his nose. “Of course there, he’s my best friend.”

Greta snorts, rolling her eyes before she turns her attention to Annette. “You know he’s nothing but trouble, right?”

“Uh…everything’s been fine so far…” Annette says slowly, unsure what the best response would be. “It’s just a philosophy project, Greta.”

The woman hums disapprovingly, her eyes take in the sight of Richter’s arm over Annette’s shoulders. She presses her lips into a fine line then says,

“Leave the door open while you’re in your room.”

Annette’s face flushes and she nods quickly. “I’m just changing, it won’t even take five minutes.”

“I trust you, Annette.” Greta says sighing. “It’s your new friend that needs to be watched though.”

Richter raises both hands in surrender. “I’m starving, I’m just trying to get to pizza.”

Greta clicks her tongue but accepts his answer, stepping from in front of them with a nod. “Five minutes you two.”

Annette practically runs down the hall to her door, slipping from under Richter’s arm in the process. She misses the heat of him immediately but shoves the thoughts from her mind as she unlocks the door and pushes inside.

Her dorm is always clean, because Annette is not a heathen thank you very much, but she still snatches her pajamas out of sight and kicks a few socks underneath her bed.

“Here, you can sit.” She says motioning to the lone chair in her room. “I’ll be right back,”

Richter does as she says, flopping down in the chair which makes his long legs seem even longer. Annette has to step over them to be able to get to her tiny closet.

She pulls out the latest outfit Edouard has arranged on a hanger for her; a pink mini skirt and a black high neck halter tank and pretty much sprints into her bathroom.

The main reason Annette chose to live in the off campus dorms was because each room had its own shower. They were small, the water pressure nonexistent and the sink barely more than a basin but it was a private bathroom all the same. Communal showers disgusted her on a deeply personal level.

She works quick. The shower water barely warming up before she’s already lathered her body with soap, washed her face and brushed her teeth. She’s out of the half closet of a shower stall just as fast as she got in, drying her body, applying her favorite lotion and massaging some oil into her locs. She needs to retwist them but there’s no time, the new growth will just have to wait.

She pairs the black tank with a simple golden chain to give it a bit of personality and smooths her hands down the front of her mini skirt. It’s cute, Edouard somehow knowing her size perfectly. It hugs her hips tightly and Annette does several mirror checks, bending at the waist and looking to make sure the skirt still covers her. Not that she has plans to be bending over at a pizza place but…..

An imagine flashes in Annette’s mind, Richter standing behind her and pressing up against her. His huge hands hold her hips, run over her stomach and lift her chin with one long finger so that their lips are centimeters apart. His hand on her hip travels down, the rough pads of his fingers making contact with her bare thigh the moment their lips meet and Annette aches, already dripping for him—

A knock on the bathroom door startles Annette to the point she drops the deodorant she was applying.

“Hey not to rush you but Adrian texted me and said he’s gonna put our pizzas in the oven soon.” Richter calls out to her.

Annette tries to steady her breathing, crouching to pick up the deodorant stick and return it to the medicine cabinet.

“Okay, I’m ready, here I come.” She calls back, grimacing at how her voice shakes.

She heard Richter step away from the bathroom door and Annette sucks in a deep breath. In the back of her mind, her most recent conversation with Edouard replays for the hundredth time.

“Girl you have got to text me when he finally makes a move. We’re getting close I can feel it.”

“Edouard, you can’t possibly know that. We’re friends! Richter’s given no indication that—“

“Oh bitch boo, you’re literally his passenger Princess now. Every time I see you where are you? In the front seat of his truck that he doesn’t let anyone ride in!”

“We have to put effort into our philosophy project! It’s worth the whole year’s grade!”

“And what about Alucard? You probably owe him close to a thousand dollars in all the pizza he’s just been supplying you with.”

“That’s different—-he and Richter—“

“Are lovers and they want to put some of that love down on you! And if you don’t let them I’ll lose my shit because girl they have never—.”

Annette shakes her head hard, shooing the memory away and squaring her shoulders. She was going to studying and eat pizza, it didn’t mean anything.

“Girl that mini skirt definitely means something.” Edouard’s voice teases in her head.

“Shut up,” Annette mumbles both to herself and the imaginary Edouard.

She turns, yanking open the bathroom door and stepping out into the chilly air of her dorm.

Richter stands in the doorway leading out into the hall. He’s leaning against the frame, looking down to text and whistling an off key tune.

“You ready?” Annette asks softly, throwing her towel onto her bed and pulling the only pair of flats she’s owns out of the shoe rack she keeps hooked on the end of her bed frame.

Richter turns, a smile on his face. “Great, I was just telling Adrian—oh! Oh….wow..”

The smile slips away, a look of awe spreading across Richter’s face as he watches Annette step into her shoes. His blue eyes widen as his gaze travels up her legs, to the mini skirt and then her halter top and finally rest on her face.

“What?” She asks self consciously. “Is my outfit too much? Adrian said that on Friday nights most people come a little dressed up. Did I over do—“

“No!” Richter practically yells, making them both jump.

He clears his throat, “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell.” He offers her a smile. “No you look great, I—I love your skirt.”

Annette smiles shyly. “Thank you, Edouard picked it out.”

Richter chuckles, “he has good taste, it looks perfect on you.”

They smile at each other for a second, then Richter’s phone buzzes in his hand and the moment between them breaks.

Annette puts her coat on, zipping it all the way closed and wondering how strange she must look with her legs bare but her winter coat bundled.

“You ready?” Richter asks. “Adrian says our table just opened up and he’s going to save it for us, but we gotta hurry.”

Annette nods, motioning for him to lead the way. “Just let me lock the door.”

She grabs her phone, wallet, chapstick and keys, following Richter out of the dorm and to the elevator. They bid goodbye to Greta, who waves to them without looking up from her book. And soon Annette is back in the passenger seat of Richter’s truck.

Your seat. Edouard’s voice reminds her.

The conversation flows easily between her and Richter, she really likes that he always seems ready to discuss anything she wants. But her eyes, which usually find the most interesting things outside of the car window, keep falling down to the console between them.

Richter’s forearm rests casually on the black leather, his limb so long that his hand dangles over the edge; his fingers naturally dipping down on her side, close to her bare knee.

Annette chews on her freshly moisturized lips, eating away the chapstick she just put on as she debates with the idea that just popped into her head.

If Richter wanted to touch her, he would right? That’s why he hasn’t yet because he’s not interested in her. He and Adrian very clearly have something going on between them. But Annette knows Edouard isn’t completely delusional. Both Richter and Adrian do treat her differently than they treat everyone else. They’re mindful of her and her thoughts and her emotions. Richter usually starts every day by asking her how she feels. Adrian, so far, is always ready to lend an open ear to her problems; even the incredibly stupid ones.

There was something there, even if she couldn’t figure out what yet. And deep down, Annette wanted to find out. She wanted to put herself between these two men and make sure that she wasn’t reading too much into things.

She could start right now….

Annette gathers her nerves, shoving them out of her body as she clears her throat, shifts in her seat and pushes her knee into Richter’s fingers.

He sucks in a sharp breath, freezing for a moment and Annette waits; her gaze firmly on the world passing them by. The pause only lasts a moment, it’s not even a full minute before Richter’s fingers brush against her skin. Testing to see her reaction.

Annette sighs softly, pushing up onto the toes of that leg so that there’s even more skin for him to touch. Richter takes the offer, his fingers stroking long lines from her knee cap to the middle of her thigh.

“Is this okay?” He asks lowly, his voice rough.

“Yeah,” Annette nods, “It’s good.”

She tries not to think about the way Richter smiles the entire rest of the way to Adrian’s.

To Be Continued……

[setsuuestsu]

Feveruary Day 3

Prompt: Caught In the Rain

Sickie: Jungkook | Caretaker: Jin

Word Count: 722

“IT’S SNOWING!”

Jungkook grunts as he rolls over. He squints as he looks out his bedroom window. There’s absolutely no snow, only rain beating down harshly.

He glances at his alarm and curses. He doesn’t actually have to be awake to leave for work since it’s his day off. His only plan for the day was to sleep in, eat, and play video games. “Jin-hyung, you’re an asshole.”

The eldest laughs his windshield wiper laugh and skedaddles out of the room. Another moment later and he pokes his head back in.

“You’re on groceries today.” Jin reminds him. “And we need a lot, thanks to yours and Jimin’s cooking fiasco the other day … oh, and Hoseok’s party.”

That makes him snicker under his breath. Oh, that was so fun.

Anyways. He nods, rolling his eyes playfully. He really doesn’t mind doing the groceries, and if it keeps his hyungs happy, then he’s happy. He runs through a mental checklist of what they might need. Taehyung’s favorite chips, Jimin’s favorite juice, the slabs of meat that Jin and Yoongi prefer to cook with, the certain variety of apple that Hoseok is particular about, Namjoon’s favorite cereal …

When he finishes voicing this thought to Jin, the eldest nods. “That and whatever you want, since you're paying this time. Oh thank god, since last time I had to buy them, you added on like nine different packs of ramyeon!”

Jin is exaggerating obviously, because Jungkook knows he asked for eight varieties, not nine.

The eldest hands him a grocery list. Huh. There’s the paper Hoseok was looking for. There’s little things on there, like different fruits and vegetables and a whole section just dedicated to ice cream varieties and chips. Jin only writes down things outside of what they usually get. So it’s like a “get what we always get PLUS what is written on the list. Then, unlike the writing of the list, in green ink, one singular item is written in sparkly pink pen: sponge.

Easy stuff, really. He could just DoorDash it, but that would be admitting defeat.

So he shrugs on a hoodie and runs to his (Yoongi’s) beaten-down pickup truck. They’ve designated this as the grocery shopping vehicle, both because it’s a larger car than Jin’s or Jimin’s and also because Yoongi had hit so many potholes that the truck could literally only drive the distance of the grocery store and back. They only have to fill it with gas once a month basically, so it saves a lot of money. (That and Yoongi refuses to get a new car)

He still gets soaked trying to get into the truck and out and once he’s finished with the grocery shopping, (he has to run to like three different stores afterwards to find the sponge Jin wrote in his pink pen) it’s raining even harder.

Coupled with the fact that it’s the beginning of February, it’s not much of a surprise that he wakes up with a nasty cold the next morning.

“hHeh-tshuu!”

Jin shrieks from where he’s seated at the table and inches further from Jungkook. “You rat! Take your germs elsewhere!”

Jungkook sniffles and rubs his nose with a napkin he picks up from seemingly out of nowhere. (It’s actually Jin’s breakfast napkin and there’s a syrup stain that he finds the hard way. His face is now sticky with syrup but … at least it smells nice?)

He sneezes again and dear god, he needs an actual nose blow but the whole “I have syrup on my face” thing is actually quite traumatizing and maybe he could go for a wet wipe of sorts??

Apparently he’s staring into space because when he regains more awareness it’s to Jin poking him in the nose and he sneezes again.

He coughs this time, feeling more and more like his throat is going through a trash compactor.

Jin sighs, using a (clean) napkin to wipe the maknae’s face. “This is all because of the rain? I thought idiot’s didn’t catch colds..”

Jungkook coughs again, sniffling afterwards when he feels his nose start to run. “This was for your sponge.”

The eldest stops. “Oh, do I owe you or something? The sponge was like, a dollar right?”

Jungkook nods and Jin leaves

He never gets the dollar, only a cold.

[kowbelll]

Dairy Queen Dream

Word count: 1,030

I'm so sorry that this took me so long to write, but here it finally is! Big thanks to @sleepyminyard for the encouragement! I'm considering making a second part someday, but I'll let you guys decide. Also, if you've seen American Assassin, I used Victor's name and description (kinda) from that movie to help myself visualize better. My sincerest apologies for the slight angst, but I hope you enjoy!

Stiles walked into work with a sigh. He was officially an employee of Dairy Queen for a whole week, though it already felt like it had been a year. He thought working at a fast-food establishment would be easy; he was wrong. Training nearly killed him, thanks to that stupid ice cream machine. Maybe it was his clumsiness that made using it such a struggle, but he believed the thing had it out for him. If his Jeep wasn’t in grave shambles and didn’t require every penny he had, he might consider walking away and finding some other job. But alas, Dairy Queen was a necessary evil. 

He supposed it was sort of fun sometimes. He enjoyed discreetly tossing a few bits of candy into his mouth now and then, and talking to the costumers in the drive-thru with the headset made him feel like he was receiving orders from his captain on a spaceship.  

However, he already had six little burns on his poor fingers from the fry oil, and he accidentally exploded another blizzard yesterday – the fourth one thus far. The manager gave him a warning, but they both knew that Beacon Hills’ DQ was quite understaffed. They needed him, or someone like him. Stiles was the only applicant in many months.  

Hearing the bell above the door chime, signaling that another customer was entering, he made his way over to the counter, not paying any attention to what was in front of him. “Welcome to Dairy Queen. What can I get for y-” Stiles froze as his eyes made contact with hers.  

Just looking at her made his face flush, turning a deep red, and his hands suddenly felt clammy. He had never seen someone with such pure beauty. Every little detail pierced him as his gaze took her in. She was almost overwhelming.  

Her smile at the awkward moment reeled him back in and he cleared his throat, blinking a few times. “Sorry, uh... How can I help you?” 

As she gave him her order with that euphonious voice, he felt dizzy. And when the blizzard she asked for was the exact same as his favorite (since he was five years old), he almost felt out of breath. He couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his face. Stiles was smitten! 

He could see it all, right then and there: the sparkling ring he’d put on her finger, the long white dress she’d wear, the quaint home they’d live in together, the fuzzy puppy they’d adopt. Everything would’ve been perfect. Until he watched painfully as a tall, well-built, Ryan Gosling lookalike wrapped an arm around her waist and began listing his order too.  

A pit formed in Stiles’ stomach, making him nauseous. He knew nothing about the guy, yet he already hated him. He unknowingly blocked out everything he said, too busy with the jealousy that began to spark inside of him.  

He rubbed his forehead, trying to get his bearings. “Um, what was that?” 

An annoyed sigh left the ‘man’ before he recited his order again: the most disgusting concoction Stiles had ever heard. Yep, he definitely hated him.  

Stiles stared at him from around the corner as he made his blizzard, s He was too consumed to notice his hands drifting away from the mixer, causing ice cream to splatter everywhere, including all over him. “Fuck, not again...” he muttered, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in frustration. The only bright side was that it wasn’t her blizzard that exploded.  

That stupid guy had the nerve to look over and laugh, pointing a finger at poor Stiles. “Oh shit! Is it baby’s first day? Do you need a napkin?” he mocked, followed by more obnoxious laughter. 

Holding back because he knew his manager was in his office, Stiles bit his lip. To his surprise, a voice did come through to defend him. 

“Knock it off, Victor. He’s just trying to do his job.” The angel of a girl stepped in front of him and urged him to take a seat in one of the booths. She then looked back at Stiles and gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile, which he returned. “I’m really sorry about him.” 

“It’s alright. I’d probably laugh too.” 

“Maybe, but that wasn’t just a laugh...” She lowered her voice as she continued, embarrassed by her boyfriend’s actions, “That was an outburst.” 

Stiles suddenly felt horrible for her. The look on her face showed that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, and the guilt she clearly felt wasn’t fair. Everything inside of him told him to hop over the counter and save her – run away with her, hug her close, and make her feel safe, loved, and appreciated. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, and Victor looked like he could knock him out with one good punch. 

“Hey, really, it’s ok. Don’t feel bad on his behalf.” 

Her smile partially returned. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure he gives you a good tip.” 

“Alright, I’m looking forward to it,” he said, chuckling. 

With that, Stiles quickly wiped up what he could and made a new blizzard for the douchebag, this time without making a massive mess and a fool of himself. Once all of their order was together, he carried the trays to their table, making sure to flip both of the blizzards. He completely ignored Victor’s existence and focused on the beautiful smiling angel instead.  

Walking away was harder than he thought it would be. In the short amount of time since he met her, he somehow grew attached to her. He couldn’t explain why or how, but he knew he felt something strong for her.  

He decided that watching her enjoy a meal with that scum was too much for him to bear, so he went on his lunch break and got some fresh air outside. He hoped that he’d at least see her lovely face one more time before they left, but when he came back inside, they were gone, just a crumpled ten-dollar bill left in their place, and his heart cracked. Stiles had no idea if he’d ever see her again, but he certainly hoped so.  

[shhh-secret-time]

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[ironinkpen]

The interpretation of Rise Raph as a 'perfect responsible soft boy uwu' is so BORING I'm sorry, Raph is a rowdy adrenaline junkie with anxiety and I won't take this slander any longer

Raph secretly kept an enemy soldier in their actual literal house as a sparring partner. Raph glued his brothers together and dragged them out to fight crime. Raph once asked Leo to punch him in the face to prove he 'takes damage like a boss.' Raph tried to lift a school bus, twice. Raph offered to help his favorite wrestler beat his little brother up. When Leo suggests evacuating Bullhop, Raph says no bc the best defense is a good offense babey. Raph's idea of a 'friendly chat' with April's upstairs neighbor is to put on a black ski mask and go stand menacingly at their door. It takes Raph 10 episodes to conclude that they should MAYBE start training. Raph's plan to get a potentially priceless (and potentially FRAGILE) museum artifact is to punch a car in the middle of a busy street and also cut it in half with his brother still inside.

Raph's never met a problem he wouldn't try to punch in the face and does not know the meaning of the words 'excessive force.' He roughhouses with his bros and drags them out to fight villains and thinks any plan that doesn't involve an all-out brawl is boring and lame. He'll do anything to protect his family from harm and be a hero, but also he eats wet salami off the floor and once single-handedly destroyed a library.

I just adore how, at his core, Rise Raph is such a classic Raph—impulsive and stubborn and caring and passionate. He is a very sweet, strong, honorable guy who has a very powerful sense of personal responsibility... and he is also the exact kind of jock who throws you in the pool at a party without checking if you have your phone in your pocket first.