#Maybe I should get some when I have a day off again

[holybibly]

More food play, bunnies? You wanted it, now you get it. Unholy thoughts of the day, bunnies: The idea of serving a luxurious dinner on a naked, hot body has never sounded so appealing, especially when the main course comes with sweet, wet pussy for dessert. Or dirty, perverted idols Ateez discover the exciting, sexy experience of Nyotaimori during their schedule in Japan.

Nyotaimori - often referred to as "body sushi", is the Japanese practice of serving sashimi or sushi from the naked body of a woman. 

Yunho first heard about it from his friend the last time he was in Japan during a break between comebacks. His friend described it as the most vivid, hot, and incredibly sexual experience of his life. And incredibly expensive too. But as Minhyuk assured him, it was worth every damn penny, and he would definitely go back to this special restaurant again to get supplements. And Yunho thought about it seriously. He even did some research and watched some porn on the subject and some hentai videos, and he has to say that it turned him on so much so that he had to jerk off several times in a row to completely empty his balls and quench his need to fuck.

His dick was so hard and pulsating rhythmically as he watched several guys on the screen eating sushi and sashimi from the naked body of a pretty busty girl with a tiny, slime-stained pussy and then fucking her hard in all the tight, wet holes. They were pulling her onto their big cocks, after which they cum all over her body, covering her completely with their sperm. And fuck, now this sweet, haunting image is permanently lodged in his head. 

Of course, his friends weren't left out of Yunho's new dirty hobby. At first he only told Mingi about it, and, as usual, his best friend supported him enthusiastically, and soon they were both greedily glued to porn videos of this style. Gradually, it spread beyond the two of them, and soon the whole group was somehow drawn into Yunho's hot, perverse fantasy of nyotaimori and dirty gangbang.

It got to the point where all the boys unanimously decided that on their next trip to Japan, they would definitely visit this special restaurant that Minhyuk had recommended. And so Yunho found himself in the dark reception area of Deep Dive, one of the most modern and hyped places in Tokyo. And for good reason, as this restaurant offered not only a deep culinary immersion into a variety of exquisite tastes but also into the depths of various sexual practices.

"So, Mr. Jeong, do you have a preference for a host for your dinner?" The woman in front of him looks stunning, but so does the shark looking for its prey.

Yunho clutches the list of preferences that the other members have written down regarding the type of girl they would like to see on the table.

"Ahem..." He clears his throat before he speaks. His cheeks are slightly flushed, but the thought that he is about to make his dirty dream come true makes his dick tense. "We'd like someone juicy..." God, it sounds so stupid, and judging by the way the woman in front of him raises a questioning eyebrow, he is not the only one who thinks the same. So Yunho quickly corrects himself. "I mean with curves, big and heavy breasts, a fat ass, hips, but petite."

"Okay, I get it; continue." The lady encourages him, making notes in her notebook.

"If possible, we want a more submissive girl, maybe into pet play and daddy kink."

"We can give you exactly what you want. What about sexual practices? Do you have any preferences?"

Such a frank, dirty question should embarrass him even more, but instead Yunho's eyes darken and his voice becomes confident and hoarse.

"Voyeurism, size perversion, deep throat, spanking, spitting, objectification, possibly double penetration and squirt, plus of course fingering, cunnilingus, and other classic practices."

"Yes, I understand." She writes something on the notebook again and looks up at him. "Do you want to role play with coercion or are you more attracted to enthusiastic consent?"

"Enthusiastic consent, please. We want her to want it too. Maybe even too much." Yunho bites his lip and drums his fingers on his knee, either from nerves or excitement.

"You're in luck, Mr. Jung; one of our new girls is really into group sex; you'll love her." A dazzling smile appears on her lips, and she looks straight into Yunho's eyes as she begins to repeat his order loudly and clearly. "So, Friday night at eight o'clock, we're expecting Mr. Jeong Yunho, Park Seonghwa, Song Mingi, and Jung Wooyoung at private booth number 8 for a tasting dinner. On our part, we guarantee complete safety and anonymity of your data. The NDA file was sent to you in advance by email.

The menu consists of twelve starters and one main course, which will be served by Miss Y/N, who will also be your host for the evening. Dessert is included. You have chosen the full immersion experience with special services (which implies a full-fledged sex scene). The cost of your dinner is one hundred million yen. Will you confirm your order?" The lady pushed the ATM towards Yunho and batted her eyelashes cutely, waiting for the beep to inform her of a successful transaction.

Yunho nonchalantly swiped Hongjoong's black bank card at the terminal and pressed the confirm button. As soon as the machine made a cute "ding," the receptionist extended her hand across the table for Yunho to shake.

"I hope your Deep Dive experience is truly memorable, Mr. Jeong. See you on Friday."

[ribread03]

Our Song I

m.sturniolo

Summery: When you receive a DM from nick asking you about doing a collaboration with them you cant help but say yes!

THIS IS MY WORK AND MY IDEA! PLEASE DONT USE THIS AS “INSPIRATION” OR TAKE IT WITHOUT GETTING MY PERMISSION FIRST! thank you :)

AN: this is part one of the series “our song” if you would like to know more about “y/n” you can use the mood board! Enjoy :)

Y/N POV

You’re sitting at your desk editing the newest YouTube video you plan to put out. Music is playing in the background as you zone out into your computer. Your phone dings, pulling you out your computer to see who might have messaged you.

Your heart skips a beat when you see “nicolassturniolo sent you a message” in your notification stack. You’ve been a fan of the sturniolo triplet since what felt like forever, and now Nick is messaging you on instagram. You’re in such a state of shock as you open the message, hands trembling as you read what it says;

“Hello, Me, Matt and Chris have come across your YouTube channel and we’re wondering if you want to collab with us sometime in the future….”

Flash Back Two Weeks Ago…

You had just finished editing a YouTube video to post, hitting the post button you close your computer and lay down to take a nap. Expecting the usual few hundred comments and likes when you wake up in a few hours.

Boy were you wrong… A few hours go by and you wake up and see that your video has blown up, thousands of views, thousands of comments, and thousands of new subscribers. Your eyes scan your phone “congratulations on 1 MILLION subscribers” was in your email.

“OH! MY! GOD!” You screamed out, alerting your parents who happened to be downstairs, to hear you. Jumping up and out of bed, starting to exit your room, stepping over piles of books and clothes.

“Y/N? Are you okay!?” You can hear your mother frantically call up to you while walking up the stairs.

“I HIT A MILLION SUBSCRIBERS!” You say excitedly while meeting her in the hallway…

Back to the present…

“Oh. my. god…” you say quietly, fingers hovering over your screen, scared that if you hit anything this will all be a figment of your imagination. Clicking on the notification you hold your breath as your phone unlocks and opens instagram… this is no figment of your imagination. This is real life and the triplets really want to collaborate with you.

You let out a few more silent “omgs” before heading downstairs to talk to your mom about all of this. You exit your room and walk down the stairs, “Momma?” You say softly as you round the corner into the kitchen.

“Yeah sweetie?” Your mom says as she’s washing the dishes. You sit on a small stool on the floor before you talk again, petting your cat, nugget, that was by your feet.

“I got a message from Nick Sturniolo, asking if I wanted to collaborate with them,” you can hear the excitement in your voice as you tell your mom. Your mom also knows that you’ve been a fan, and practically obsessed, with these three boys since high school and have always wanted to meet them one day.

“You did? That’s great honey, what did you say?” She asks turning the sink off and turning to face you.

“I didn’t answer yet.. I'm honestly scared because what if they change their minds?” You explain to your mom with a nervous chuckle. Your cat had now made its way up onto your lap, purring loudly.

“I think you should do whatever you want, just know that a flight out to LA might be expensive.” You took your mom’s words to heart and gave her a small nod.

“I want to go out and meet them, a collaboration would help me so much.. maybe if I get a little more information then I’ll be able to see if I can afford it or not,” you explained back to your mom, pulling your phone out to DM Nick back.

“I would love to collab with you guys one day! That has been an absolute dream of mine forever. I would love to share some more information about when and where if possible.” You hit send with slightly shaky fingers before talking to your mom again, “I just messaged him back, I asked him for some more details on when and where we would collab”

“Okay sweetie,” your mom says softly before returning to whatever she was doing in the kitchen, before you came out there to talk to her. You give your cat a few more pets before standing and going back into your room, waiting for Nick to message you back with more details surrounding this possible future collaboration…

Matts POV

“Did you ask her yet?” Matt was sitting next to Nick looking over at his phone. Matt had seen your YouTube video and thought you were the most beautiful, funny, and relatable person on the internet, and he knew right then and there he needed to meet you.

He had asked Nick and Chris what they thought of some of your YouTube videos, hinting at the idea of a collaboration with you. Saying and pointing out things that would hopefully catch his brother's attention and make them also want to meet you, just maybe not for the same reason.

Matt would find himself scrolling through your instagram when he was bored, careful not to like any of your posts, wanting to keep you out of his fans stalking obsessions before he could even properly meet you. Thumbs carefully scrolling on TikTok as he watches every video you’ve made on there, watching how every video is a little different.

“Yes Matt, I did ask her,” Nick says with a slight eye roll, becoming tired of his brother’s constant asking. Nick's phone dings lightly, alerting that someone messaged him, the someone being you. Nick opens instagram and the messages that the two of you have sent back and forth. Matt's eyes scan the screen quickly, not caring that he might be invading some privacy of his brothers.

Matt's eyes land on the words, “I would love to collab with you guys one day! That has been an absolute dream of mine forever…” and he immediately becomes happier, his smile widening and eyes seem to sparkle and little more.

Nick sends you a quick DM back, asking if regular texting would be easier to send information through and that the collab would be sometime within the next two months. “I can’t believe she said yes!” Matt explains to Nick, his excitement evident in his tone.

“I didn’t think she would say no,” Nick says calmly, typing out his phone number to send to you…

AN: i hope you enjoyed this first part! If you would like to be on the tag list for this series comment on this post! Just asking to be added and i will do so :) feed back and thoughts are always welcome!

All boarders are from @issysh3ll

[white--moon]

He's expecting Ichigo to turn this into a You're Not Going To Die conversation, but instead it circles into maybe Ichigo dying instead. It drops a stone into his guts. Maybe he shouldn't be allowing Ichigo to get himself involved. Maybe he should be trying harder to push Ichigo away, so he stays out of it, out of harm. On the other side of things; Ichigo's very profession puts him in danger and if Shiro's not selfishly taking up his time now he might not get to later if Ichigo gets himself killed. "You better not." He doesn't even know what he'd do, but it wouldn't be good.

He snorts at the mild offense Ichigo takes at his description of Ichigo's day job. "No, you're right, that is pretty cool. You gonna write a book, then? So in three hundred years some stranger you can't comprehend right now can perceive you? Maybe I need to write a book." He's not going to write a book. That's way too much sitting still for his brain to tolerate. His brows go up a little bit. "Yes I have been and I have no regrets and no intentions of stopping now."

The fact Ichigo wants to go shopping with him at all is a little surprising, but not because he seriously thinks Ichigo judges his fashion sense. Just more the spending time together thing. It's been startling easy to fall into a comfortable companionship again. And sure, they're side stepping and ignoring some really big things, but the company is still easy. "I knew that. You're just being a shit." He's not great at tolerating that.

His attention corners when he feels like Ichigo's looking at him. He shrugs a noncommittal shoulder. "I get it. This isn't the best place to be right now anyway." It's too hard to defend, too hard to properly monitor and barricade. He's not dumb. "Do you actually want me going on that job?" He made a bit of a fuss about it, but he doesn't need invited out of pity. He can entertain himself. He's just scared that if they part now, it'll be the last time they see each other. He shakes his head. "No, I wouldn't. Why do you seem like you're trying to push for that? I would'a said that's what I wanted if that's what I wanted. I have no trouble speakin' my mind."

For a second, while he watches Ichigo look over his car, he wonders what they'll do if it's rigged. Call in Ichigo's team, he supposes. But Ichigo slides out from under the SUV and gives him the go ahead. He turns to a lockbox on the wall and punches in a code, then pulls the keys off a hook and closes the box again. He uses the remove to unlock it as he walks toward the vehicle.

"About my- ?" He almost says boyfriend, but stops himself and shrugs. "I dunno. I guess I did. It's hard not to wonder if the cop you're bangin', who clearly knows who the biggest drug dealer in town is, is just being a cop. Under cover or whatever. Maybe it just looked less suspicious to be upfront about it when I asked him if he was a cop. You were worried about that girl in my bathroom, but the cop would be the right way to do it." Shiro's aware of his own weaknesses. A hot guy with that added element of forbidden and dangerous that being a police officer brings certainly got his attention.

He tosses his phone onto the bed after sending Ichigo the lady's contact info. He knows Ichigo would treat her right if he contacts her at all.

That laugh sounds uncomfortable. Part of him wishes they could dispense with the trying they're both doing, the other part of him is grateful for the efforts. "It's true, I been bad at not giving you what you want from the very start." Shirt? But it only takes him a second, because when he moved out of his apartment he found that shirt. He thought about giving it to Renji to give back to Ichigo, but he couldn't quite make himself do it. "That was your favorite?"

He gets his answer the moment Ichigo looks at him. They know each other well enough for him to read Ichigo just fine. It's flattering. Then the verbal answer Ichigo gives is weirdly touching. It's very sweet, and maybe too honest, but he finds himself liking it anyway. If they can't be together, maybe they can at least be on good terms. Even not being partners, he likes Ichigo's company.

He snorts. "Of course I did, I look good in or out of anything." But being put to bed sounds nice. Warm and cozy and comfortable sounds nice. He is tired, mentally at least. He offers up a little half smirk at the reassurance. "Let's get outta here. Where do you wanna go?"

[twirlyleafs]

“Reckless.”

Charles Leclerc x driver! Reader

TW: mention of death, fighting

~~~~

“What the hell was that?”

Charles’ angry voice cut through the hum of your garage like a whip, startling you enough to make you spin around to face him. You hadn’t expected him to be here this fast, you’d barely gotten out of the car, but then again maybe you should have. You knew he’d be angry considering the intense qualifying session where you’d wrung every last bit out of your car—and yourself. In those final two laps, you’d driven with reckless precision, pressing Alonso so hard in the corners that he’d had to back off to not risk contact. It wasn’t exactly clean racing, but it had earned you a spot on the second row. Fourth on the grid, your best start all season. The best you would probably be able to get out of your car. But as satisfying as it was, you knew that Charles would have something to say about it.

“Keep your voice down, Charles.” You muttered while unzipping the top half of your suit, hoping you could brush this off before it turned into a scene. Charles wasn’t having it. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him, jaw clenched, his hands slicing through the air as he spoke, disbelief radiating off him.

“Keep my voice—are you serious? What’s your problem? That overtake was reckless. Fernando was barely an inch away from accidentally sending you flying into the wall!”

“Calm down.” You shot him a look as you brushed past him, hoping he’d drop it if you just kept walking. But Charles scoffed, immediately following you, his tone hard and unforgiving.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! I was right behind you! I saw the way you went in—God, you’re just lucky it was Alonso and not one of the rookies. That could’ve been a disaster.” Charles was relentless, his words chasing you all the way to your driver’s room. Your fists were clenched, nails digging into your palms as you worked to keep your own frustration under control. You knew his worry came from a place of love, but right now, it felt like he was questioning you as a driver, as if he didn’t trust you to know what you were doing. And that stung more than you cared to admit. Once the door shut behind you both, his words softened, though they still held an edge. “What were you thinking out there?”

You let out a heavy breath, finally turning to meet his gaze. “I was thinking about getting a decent starting position. I wanted-“

“You don’t risk everything for a good position!” he interrupted, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Have you talked to Fernando? He’s probably fuming! If that had been me in his shoes, I would’ve lost it—”

“Good thing it wasn’t you, then.” You snapped, turning your back on him as you began unzipping the rest of your suit. It felt safer to face the wall, where he couldn’t see the raw mix of emotions that tightened your throat and threatened to spill over. “You don’t get it, Charles. You have a team, a car, a contract. You have a future. A name. I’m fighting for scraps, like every shot is the last one I’ll get.”

He fell silent and for a moment you thought he might back down, let you have this small victory. But his voice cut through the quiet, low and sharp. “Maybe I don’t get it. But I do get that you’re pushing yourself too far. And one day it won’t just be a scare. You’ll get hurt.”

“Yeah, well, I can handle myself.” You retorted as you turned to face him, your gaze defiant. “I knew what I was doing with Alonso. I wouldn’t have tried it with one of the rookies, I knew they couldn’t handle that.”

“Can you?” His eyes held a look you rarely saw, a mixture of frustration, fear, and maybe even doubt. “Can you handle it, Y/N? Because from where I’m standing, that looked less like confidence and more like…like desperation.” His words hit you like a slap, hurting more than you wanted to admit. Was it desperation? Maybe there was some truth in that, but you weren’t about to let him see you flinch. Not when he didn’t understand what it was like to constantly have to prove yourself, to feel every race could be your last if you didn’t show results.

“Are you calling me a bad driver Charles?” You asked, the challenge clear in your tone. He ran a hand over his face, sighing in exasperation.

“I’m calling you reckless. Stupid, even. You could be amazing, I know you’re amazing, but you keep pulling moves like this and I’m just scared it’s going to end in disaster.”

You swallowed, ignoring the sting of his words. “I can’t afford to play it safe, Charles. You wouldn’t get it, you don’t have to get it. You’re in a car that could win a championship. I’m just trying to prove I belong here.” For a moment, he looked as if he was about to argue, his eyes narrowing with the usual stubbornness you knew too well. But instead, he just shook his head, stepping back, disappointment flickering in his gaze. He lingered for a moment, his gaze softened, as if he wanted to reach out but held himself back. Then he turned, leaving the room as quickly as he’d entered, his words hanging in the air, heavy and unshakable. You stood alone, the silence pressing down on you, and no matter how much you wanted to brush it off his words kept echoing in your mind.

The hours dragged on, the buzz of qualifying still lingering as you were pulled from one interview to the next. You smiled for the cameras, deflected the sharpest questions, and managed to shrug off any mention of that heated moment with Alonso. But under the surface, your mind churned with the memory of your earlier fight with Charles. His words still echoed in your head, gnawing at you in a way you couldn’t shake. Reckless. Desperate. You’d been called a lot of things, but hearing it from him hurt like hell. It was late when you finally reached the hotel, the quiet of the lobby a stark contrast to the noisy paddock. The tension in your shoulders was nearly unbearable as you made your way up to your room, the thought of sleep the only thing keeping you moving forward. When you unlocked the door and stepped inside Charles was there, sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze flicking up from his phone when you entered. He looked worn, the earlier fire in his eyes now replaced with something gentler, but equally intense. You felt your heart skip, torn between relief and irritation as the weight of your argument settled heavily in the air between you.

“Hey,” he said quietly, watching you as you set down your things.

“Hey.” You shrugged off your jacket, avoiding his gaze, the room feeling too small, too charged. Silence hung thickly for a moment before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” he began, a slight hesitance in his voice. “For showing up like that. I shouldn’t have come into your garage and… yelled at you. That was out of line.”

You nodded, acknowledging his apology but not yet ready to let go of the frustration simmering beneath your skin. Slowly making your way across the room you stopped by the dresser to remove your jewelry, plopping your watch and bracelet down on the cold surface before turning around to look at him again. “You still think I’m reckless? Stupid?” Your voice was calm, even as your heart pounded in your chest. Charles looked down, rubbing his hands together as he seemed to weigh his words.

“Yes. I do. I think you’re incredible out there, but sometimes…” He paused, looking up at you, his eyes soft yet resolute. “Sometimes it scares me. Seeing you push so hard, knowing one wrong move could just, you know, just end everything.”

You sighed, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the dresser. “Charles, I’m fighting for my career. Every weekend, every race—it’s not just about points or a title chance. It’s about proving that I belong here, that I’m not just some driver filling space at the back of the grid.” You hesitated, struggling to put into words what you’d felt for so long. “I don’t have the luxury of playing it safe.”

“And you think I don’t get that?” His voice rose, a hint of frustration slipping back in. “I know what it’s like to fight, to have to prove myself. You think Ferrari didn’t make me feel like I had to earn my place every damn time I got in that car?”

You scoffed, feeling a flicker of bitterness as you met his gaze. “It’s different, Charles. You still always had the team behind you. A car that can get you to the podium on strategy alone. I don’t have that. I have to be better. I have to take risks.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t fight.” His voice was softer now. “But not at the cost of your safety. There’s a difference between fighting and driving like there’s nothing left to lose.”

You felt a flash of anger, his words hitting a raw nerve. “Maybe I don’t see a difference because I don’t have anything to lose, Charles. I’m already at the back. Already being picked apart by the media trying to prove women don’t belong here. That I don’t belong here. A good result like this might be the only thing keeping me on the grid next season.” Your voice wavered as you continued, the weight of your own words settling heavy on your chest. “Maybe I can’t afford to think about what I have to lose.” At that Charles expression softened, his eyes searching your face.

“And what about me? What if I lose you? Maybe you don’t see it that way, but to me you are the most important thing in this equation.” His words struck you like a blow and for the first time you felt the edges of your anger soften, giving way to something deeper and more vulnerable. You let out a breath, your gaze dropping to the floor as the truth of it all began to settle between you. You swallowed, feeling the prick of tears in your eyes but refusing to let them fall.

“You have to let me fight. Even if it scares you. Because I can’t be the driver I need to be if I’m holding back just to make everyone else feel safe.” Even with your eyes trained on the floor you noted Charles getting up, moving across the room towards you. The ache in your chest reached its peak when his hands carefully found your arms, slowly stroking down them until he could grip your hands in his. He sighed, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

“I don’t want you to hold back. I’d never ask that of you, I just-“ he paused and you slowly lifted your gaze to meet his. “I just want you to be careful. To remember that you can get to where you wanna be without dying on the way. Baby I want you to have everything, I think you deserve everything and I’m here for you, as long as you don’t disappear on me.” The last of your frustration melted away as you let out a shaky breath, leaning into his embrace. The second Charles noticed you moving closer he dropped your hands, wrapping his arms around you instead. Tucking your head against the crook of his neck you let out a deep sigh, nodding slowly.

“I get it. I get what you’re saying. It’s just hard to think like that when I’m out there, seeing my chances slip away.”

“I know.”

“But I’ll try.” You whispered, the words more of a promise to yourself than to him. “I’ll try to be careful. But I need you to understand that sometimes, this is just how it has to be. It’s the only way I know.” You felt Charles nod, his lips pressing soft, reassuring kisses against the top of your head. You shuffled closer, letting your arms wrap around his torso as his tightened around your frame, grounding you in the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. “You won’t lose me.” You murmured against his shoulder, the words both a promise and a hope. Charles held you close, his lips pressing gently to your temple as you both stood in the quiet of the room, letting the tension and hurt melt away. And for a while, neither of you said anything more, content just to hold each other, finding a fragile peace in the shared silence. Tomorrow, you’d be back on the track, fighting just as hard. But tonight, you were simply here, together.

[forthegothicheroine]

I've made a post about great lesser-known noirs, but it occurs to me that some of you might not be familiar with the classics, and might want to know where to start. This is a ridiculously short list- I have a million more to talk about- but here are some of the big stars of the genre.

The Maltese Falcon: Sam Spade, a clever but callous private detective, gets wrapped up in intrigue relating to an artifact that is functionally cursed. If he's an unscrupulous character, just wait until you meet everyone else. The whole damn cast is electrifying, lending charm and cruelty in equal measure.

The Big Sleep: Philip Marlowe, a kinder and more poetic detective for Humphrey Bogart to play than Spade, is called upon to deal with a wealthy, dysfunctional family, and it keeps on getting weirder from there. Is the sharp-tongued Vivian Sternwood the femme fatale she seems, or is she just another person trying to find the right thing to do in desperate circumstances? And will she and Marlowe keep their hands off each other until the plot has had its last twist?

Double Indemnity: Rich housewife Phyllis Dietrichson and sleazy insurance agent Walter Neff are, by their own admission, rotten people. It's only natural that they should plot a murder together, and that they should turn on each other the very second things go wrong. Every single domestic murder movie since 1944 has ripped this off.

Kiss Me Deadly: This is nominally an adaptation of a Mike Hammer story. Screenwriter Bezzerides hated Mike Hammer. As depicted here, he is one of the worst people in the world. Depending on the cut of the film you see, he may inadvertently cause the nuclear apocalypse. (For once, the theatrical cut is darker.)

Sweet Smell of Success: Cruel, all-powerful columnist JJ Hunsecker wants his sister's boyfriend out of the way (for reasons that are, um, ambiguous.) To accomplish this, he enlists the biggest weasel in New York, Sidney Falco, and the two completely deserve each other as they spend the rest of the movie trading elaborate insults. Popular on tumblr for its dialogue and chemistry between the leads.

Sunset Boulevard: Broke screenwriter Joe Gillis thinks he can con a has-been into hiring him as a script doctor, and that's the last free decision he ever gets to make. From then on, his life is in the hands of Norma Desmond, silent film starlet turned crazed recluse, terrifying yet intensely pitiable. This is as much gothic horror as noir.

Ace in the Hole: The story of a man trapped in a cave is turning out to be a big hit in the newspaper, and if the publicity will make a reporter's career, then what's the harm in delaying rescue just for a little while? This is as vicious as noir gets, but damn it, you've just got to see what happens next. (Watch Jacob Geller's video Fear of the Depths after this.)

Sorry Wrong Number: Of all the films on this list, this is the one that really scared me. In the days of switchboards, a rich hypocondriac woman is connected to the wrong phone line and overhears a murder being planned. It doesn't take her long to figure out she's the intended victim, and each call she makes or recieves makes the situation darker. But how can she escape her fate if she can't- or won't leave her bed?

The Asphalt Jungle: The heist movie. Maybe the only heist movie ever made. Every line is quotable. Every member of the team is an unforgettable personality. When things go wrong, they go horribly wrong. One minute you're laughing, and the next minute you think you'll never laugh again.

Gun Crazy: Laurie and Bart, two practiced sharpshooters, are perhaps the most perfect match in all of noir- and that's a bad thing. When one half of the duo gets a criminal idea in their head, the other can't say no. When the opportunity to ditch her man like a sap comes up, the femme fatale throws it away to be doomed at his side. He fell in love with her when she first aimed a gun at him. Quentin Tarantino kissed star Peggy Cummins's feet at a showing of the film, and I hope she kicked him in the head.

Laura: Everyone was in love with Laura Hunt, and somebody killed her- or did they? Did they get the right person? Is the cop on the case in love with a dead woman? Was her columnist mentor just her gay best friend, or was there something darker beneath that facade? And what would Laura think of all this? A big inspiration on Twin Peaks.

In a Lonely Place: Bogart isn't at all heroic here, as a screenwriter with a drinking habit and a violent temper. He's obviously a bad idea to date, but just how bad an idea? He's not the type of guy who'd kill a woman, is he? Bogart and Gloria Holden give perhaps their best performances here, and they'll wound your soul.

Touch of Evil: A Mexican cop (played, unfortunately, by Charlton Heston) finds out a nasty secret about the big hero cop Hank Quinlan: he's framed the culprit in most of his cases. Not because he's crooked, but because his intuition tells him they're guilty. Director Orson Welles as Quinlan is frightening, grotesque, and a little bit tragic in what some consider the last classic noir.

The Killers: The first twenty minutes or so are an adaptation of a Hemingway story, where out of town hitmen gun down a man so depressed he won't even bother to run from them. The rest of the film is an investigation into how he got that way. It had something to do with a radiant gangster's girl, and something to do with a few botched crimes. Sometimes a man can die before the bullets even touch him.

The Third Man: Everybody is lying about the whereabouts of an American expatriate named Harry when his friend comes looking. Did they do something to him? Or, more frightening still, is he the one who's been doing things to other people? Orson Welles is a more charming monster than he was in Touch of Evil; the light and shadows on his face cast him as a vampire, while his fingers sticking up through the sewer grate look like something terrifying emerging from the earth.

[illiterateaffairs]

a simple favor | stiles x reader

masterlist

pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (enemy/witch)

word count: 7,120

warnings: language, banter, minor blood, allusions to sex *gasp* but no smut (sorry!)

summary: despite being self-proclaimed "enemies", you manage to drag stiles to your house for help with a spell...and maybe more.

author's note: hi friends! hope everyone is doing as well as they can be, and hope i can offer up a small distraction. i'm back with another witch!reader x stiles fic but this exists in a universe in which you are a "bad guy" and stiles can't stand you...for now ;) more deets at the end! also please just roll with me on any witch stuff idk if anything is accurate to witch lore, i feel as if with magic the rules are made up anyway so i'm doing what i want :)

“Hi!”

“AH- Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?” Stiles jumps before his face contorted in annoyance. 

He was on his way to pick up Scott. For some god forsaken reason his best friend wanted to get a tattoo before they started junior year and Stiles was meant to “supervise”. However, just as Stiles hops into the driver’s seat of his jeep, he’s greeted in the passenger seat by you. 

And you may or may not be Stiles’s least favorite person in the world. 

“I was waiting for you,” you state, point blankly like it was normal for you to have broken into his car. 

Stiles rolls his eyes, “God, do I want to know why?”

“Doubtful,” you sigh, turning in the seat to start putting on the seatbelt, “You should probably start driving.”

Stiles slowly narrows his eyes, “Why?”

“I need your help with a spell.”

“My help? What makes you think I’m going to help you?”

“Because you know I could kill you with the snap of my fingers.” you roll your head in his direction with a pointed look, “Besides, you owe me.”

Oh yeah. Because you saved his life this past spring when Gerard Argent kidnapped him after his lacrosse game. 

Stiles inwardly groans. You had a point. He had a feeling though no matter how many favors he paid you, you’d never let that go. 

You may have saved his life, but the thing was, to him and his friends you were still the “bad guy”. You were still the same witch that pretended to befriend him and Scott when Scott first became a werewolf, just for them to find out you were playing them to help Peter, who had enlisted your help to regain his strength and heal from the Hale fire. Stiles had barely tolerated you since the day you met, but after that, any ounce of trust and respect he had for you vanished. 

From that point on, Stiles decided he hated you. And despite defeating Peter, your presence loomed. For some reason, Derek leaned on you when he was building his pack of betas, giving Stiles more reason to despise you. But shortly after that, out of nowhere, Scott sought your help to try to stop Jackson as the Kanima and figure out who was controlling him. There was a brief moment where Stiles thought you could become an ally but admittedly he fucked that up when Peter came back from the dead and he jumped to the conclusion that you, once again, aided and abetted him. Turns out, in fact, he was wrong, and it was actually Lydia - his hopeless crush for nearly a decade - and he had accused and berated you for nothing. So any shot at you guys finding common ground was dead in the water. And you had decided to be petty and align yourself with the Argents just to piss him off. 

He hadn’t seen you since that night. He’d heard off hand from Isaac who’d heard from Derek you were spending the summer on the East Coast, doing some witch training or coven bonding shit with your family. 

That was until right now, in the front seat of his jeep.

“Scott is waiting for me.” Stiles finally responds; a half-hearted attempt to get you to go away.

You make a face, “Scott can go one night without being codependent.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but he finds himself starting the engine. “Where are we going?”

“My house.” 

“You’re taking me to your lair?”

“Ha ha.”

“I don’t even know where you live.” 

“I’ll give you directions as we go. It's just right on the outskirts of the preserve.” 

“You live in the woods?”

“Just drive.”

Stiles should question how quickly he concedes but there is in fact the possibility of you hexing him or something. Which you’ve yet to do in any serious or fatal way. But another part of him is admittedly curious; to know what exactly you want, to see how you actually live. 

From the little information he’s learned about you the past year, he knows you live with your aunt and were home schooled up until recently when you enrolled in Beacon Hills High during the winter semester. But other than that, you were just the mysterious witch he hardly knew anything about. Aside from knowing you were a pain in his ass and someone he’s hesitant to trust. 

But he thinks he can survive one evening with you. 

The drive is quiet with just you providing simple directions. At one point he tries to make a feeble attempt at small talk, but you instantly lunge forward to turn on the radio. 

You turn to look at him in disbelief when the channel that’s on is the police scanner he rigged up. He shrugs sheepishly before you shake your head and turn the dial to some indie station. 

Stiles puckers his lips and nods as soft music fills the car. “Arctic Monkeys, nice-”

“Turn left at the stop sign.”

“Right.”

You turn to him with an amused look. “You don’t know how to act when we’re not at each other’s throats.”

Stiles scoffs, “Can you blame me? I barely think of you as a real person half the time, I don’t know what to say to you.”

You chuckle as you stare out the window, “Well we’re almost there.”

“What kind of spell do you need my help with anyway? And why me?”

“Because you’re a human.”

“Okay…?”

“And I need your blood.”

“Oh great.”

“It’s a spell to make a protection amulet. So I can wear it and not be found by other witches.” 

“And why do you need that?”

“Now that is none of your business.” You sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt, “And we’re here.”

Stiles observes the road they’re coming to the end of. Your house is indeed at the edge of the woods: a modest victorian-gothic style home hidden by trees. 

“I didn’t even know there were houses out here.”

“Not many,” you reply as the two of you hop out of the jeep. 

Stiles glances between you and his phone as you lead him to the front door, also texting Scott that he’ll need a raincheck on the tattoo adventure and he’ll explain later. 

“Is your aunt home?”

“Nope, she’ll be gone until late.” You answer, unlocking the door for you both to enter. 

Stiles takes in what he can from the foyer. He can’t get a full view of the space but he can definitely tell witches live here. The living room is lined with wooden bookshelves and candles and trinkets. He doesn’t have much time to observe when he watches you head for the staircase. 

“Um, where are we going exactly?”

“My room,” You call without turning around.

“Woah,” Stiles huffs nervously, “We’re doing this in your bedroom?”

“Don’t get too excited Stilinski, you’re here for business not pleasure.”

Stiles is grateful you still haven’t bothered turning around to look at him, because he feels his face heat up as he finally follows you up the stairs.

No surprise, your room also fits right in with the aesthetic of the house. Moody colors, wooden bed posts, and candles on every surface. He watches you flick your wrist and every candle lights up, casting a warm glow around the room. It's the first time he’s thought your powers were cool, but he’d never admit that out loud.

“Is this the lair you were expecting?” you ask, turning around to face him while standing in front of your desk, which is littered with books, potion bottles, and a large pot. 

Stiles shrugs, “It’s a little underwhelming.”

“Were you expecting me to live in an underground dungeon?”

“Something like that.”

You hum and turn back to face your desk, taking stock of the potion ingredients on hand.

Stiles wanders over to stand beside you, his hands in his pockets. “So explain to me what you mean by needing my blood.”

You pick up a necklace from your desk: a silver chain with an empty vial hanging on it. “I’m essentially making a potion to put in here. And if I wear it, it will make it harder for witches searching for me to track me or my magic. And human blood is on the recipe.”

“But why me?”

“I told you, because you’re human. Not a werewolf or a witch; a human. And humans have the purest form of blood. It's basically the secret ingredient.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at your nonchalance. “Okay I get that I guess, but why me? Couldn’t you have found some other schmuck to help you? Or have you scared off every other person in Beacon Hills with your shining personality.”

You turn to Stiles with a tight smirk, “As you may know, not many people are even aware that the supernatural is real. I know you do, and unfortunately you’re my best option. Allison is still in France from what I’ve gathered, Lydia is something but I haven’t quite figured that out yet, and using my aunt would require me having to explain what I’m doing and why. So you’re it buddy.”

“Oh so I’m literally your last choice. Boy am I honored.”

“You should be.”

“Wait, do you mean your aunt isn’t a witch like you?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, focusing back on the bottles on your desk, starting to add ingredients to the pot. “She’s not even technically my aunt. She was a family friend that took me in when I was young.”

“Why? What happened to your parents?”

You swallow, “You’re nosy.”

“Fine don’t tell me, but I think it's fair I get a little information since I’m the one helping you.”

“You’re the one who owes me, remember?”

“Yeah but it sounds like you can’t complete this spell without me and it seems pretty important so…thinking that gives me some leverage.”

You glance over at him with a glare and Stiles shoots you an innocent smile that makes you want to wipe it off his face. 

You let out a deep breath, “My parents fled to god knows where when I was five. Apparently, my family has a centuries long feud with another coven and they’d evaded them for years until then. They decided leaving me with Jules was better for my safety. So I’ve been in Beacon Hills ever since. I actually didn’t know most of that until this summer. I sort of…had a run in with a member of that coven without realizing and now I’m afraid they’re going to find me here. Hence the protection amulet we’re making. Is that enough background information for you?”

Stiles raises his eyebrows as he absorbs everything. “Wow that’s…heavy. There’s some witch coven out there that's been trying to kill your family for centuries. No wonder you’re the way that you are.”

I let out an unamused huff as I add the last of the pre-prepared ingredients. 

“Wait, is that unicorn dust- are unicorns real?”

I smirk as I pour it in, “Like I’d give away that information to you for free.”

I bite back a laugh as Stiles mutters dammit. 

Turning back to him, I hold up a tiny needle. “Your turn.”

Stiles’ eyes widen briefly, holding up his hands as he steps back from you, “Woah, woah, be careful with that thing.”

You scoff, “Stiles, it's a sewing needle.”

“Well, I still haven’t completely agreed to this. How do I know you’re not tricking me into draining all of my blood?”

You roll your eyes, “Stiles I just need one drop. And then you’re free to go off on your date with Scott.”

Stiles rolls his eyes this time.

I try to fix him with a genuine look for the first time in the months we’ve known each other. “Come on. Haven’t I made it clear enough that this is important to me? I seriously would not have brought you here if it wasn’t. Don’t make me beg.”

“I’d kind of like to see-”

“Reminder, I can kill you.”

“Alright,” he groans, “Let’s just get this over with. Did I mention I hate needles?”

“Aw poor baby’s scared of a tiny needle,” you fake pout.

“Oh my god shut up, like you’re not afraid of anything.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid of admitting something embarrassing like that.”

“Okay, just stab me already.”

You chuckle and take another step closer to him, holding out your left hand. Stiles takes a deep breath and apprehensively places his hand upwards into yours, and you gently hold the tip of his pointer finger. Stiles glances around the room, wanting to look anywhere but you pricking him with the needle, as minor as it is. 

“Jesus, I can feel your pulse, you need to calm down.” you comment. 

“Sorry that I’m a generally anxious person.”

“Yeah I gathered that over the last year from the fact that you literally never stop talking,” you snicker, “Have you always been like this?”

“As long as I can remember.”

“And it doesn’t drive Scott crazy?”

“Well, I think Scott, like most sane people, finds it endearing.” 

“Oh. Does Lydia find your constant yammering endearing?” 

“Woah, okay, there’s no need to bring her into this,” Stiles sighs rubbing his head, “Can you just prick me?”

“I already did,” I reply, making Stiles whip his head back, staring at his finger between yours, and sure enough, a red drop of blood was already forming. 

“When did you…” Stiles whispers.

I shrug, dropping the needle into a bin beside my desk. “I kept you distracted.”

Stiles watches you quietly, his lips slightly parted in disbelief, while you guide his hand over the pot and gently squeeze his finger so three drops of his blood fall into the potion with a hiss. Stiles grimaces at the pressure but it's not as bad as he thought. He’s trying to get over the fact that you tried to make this a little less painful for him by pricking him with the needle while he wasn’t thinking about it. It was surprisingly…thoughtful?

“There, the final touch,” you murmur. You turn back to face him, his hand still in yours.

“Great. Do you happen to have a bandaid for the patient?” He asks. 

“No need,” I reply, grabbing a small piece of gauze from the table and placing it over his finger to stop the blood. 

Stiles once again watches you carefully. As you apply the pressure to his finger, he takes note of the way you bite your lip while you concentrate. After a few more quiet moments, you toss the piece of gauze away and gently press your thumb into his pointer finger and close your eyes, murmuring something under your breath. Once you open your eyes, you look back down at his finger and suddenly there is no puncture wound. 

“There, good as new.” 

You finally look back up at him - his face closer to yours than you remember - and he’s still staring at you silently. 

“What? Were you expecting me to kiss it better?”

Stiles shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor. “Wha- no! No. Just…not used to you using your powers for good.”

I shake my head and finally release his hand, turning back to the pot and start mixing it all together. 

Stiles clears his throat and glances over your shoulder. “So what now? You mix everything together in the pot and boom, you’re good to go?”

“Cauldron,” you correct, “And I also have to pour it into the vial and cast an incantation to activate it.”

Stiles nods, genuinely intrigued by the process. He watches you quietly mix everything for another minute or so, before you reach for the tiny vial, and then you basically ladle an ounce of it into the small tube.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of potion you’re not using. Do witches care about waste?”

I fix Stiles with a hard look and he holds up his hands in surrender. He continues watching you close your hand around the vial tightly and hold it to your chest, once again quietly reciting an incantation. Stiles is almost certain the words you are saying are in Latin, and again, he’d never admit it to anyone, but he was kind of impressed. 

When you are finished, you open your hand and look down to study the vial. From over your shoulder, Stiles sees the vial now has a slight green glow to it. 

“Assuming it worked?” Stiles comments.

You shrug, “I guess the only way to truly find out if it didn’t is if one of those witches show up here.”

Stiles nods and then proceeds to stand there and watch you struggle to get the chain clasped around your neck. 

He snorts, “What, is there no spell to put on a necklace?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

He can’t help but chuckle as he stands up straighter. “Look, do you- I mean, would you want…I could..”

You groan, tired of listening to him ramble, “What?”

“I could help you, you know!” Stiles exclaims in annoyance. “God I don’t even know why I offer.”

You frown, too stubborn to stop trying but also too frustrated to keep going. Sighing, you remove your hands from around your neck and forcefully place it in his hands, “It's one of those stupid, teeny tiny clasps that aren’t meant for human sized fingers.”

Stiles chuckles as he takes each end of the necklace into his hands, while you turn around and move your hair out of the way. “Are you saying you know of non-human fingers that handle necklaces because if so I’m crossing my fingers for a tiny mouse because that would be adorable.”

You bite back a smile, thankful you’re not facing him, “Shut up.”

Stiles keeps chuckling to himself as he brings the necklace around your neck, and carefully works to clasp it. He definitely also doesn’t use the time to inhale your scent and start to wonder if you use some kind of fragrance or if witches have a naturally alluring smell. 

As you impatiently hold your hair and try not to think about the cramp forming in your arm, you also definitely aren’t thinking about the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck and praying he doesn’t see any goosebumps form on your skin. 

“There,” Stiles whispers unintentionally soft, making him clear his throat in surprise, taking a steep step back, “All done.”

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, dropping your hair and turning around. “Thanks. For the assist and the blood donation.”

Stiles snorts with a nod, “Yeah.”

I look down at the amulet I created and gently hold it in my hands, “Seriously though. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. So…thank you.”

Stiles swallows and nods firmly, a little unsettled by the sincerity of the last few minutes, “...You’re welcome.”

You nod as well, unsure of where to go from here. “Well, I guess now your services are no longer needed and you are free to go, and we are free to proceed with business as usual; only speaking when we see each other against our will.”

Stiles huffs, crossing his arms, “What if I want to stay a little longer?”

You raise your eyebrows, “Why?”

“I have a few more questions.”

“Haven’t I told you enough?”

“I think I’m entitled to some more information,” Before you retort, he barrels on, “Look if some evil coven could potentially be invading Beacon Hills - ideally not since that spell should prevent that from happening, so you say - I think I have the right to know more about what's going on so I can be prepared for it.”

“And how exactly will you, Stiles Stilinski, prepare for that?”

“By…telling Scott…”

You snort and nod. Well fair enough I guess. “What else do you want to know?”

“How dangerous are we talking? Like, how badly do these people want you dead?” 

You shrug, “I’ve only heard stories about how the feud originated. Supposedly, my family at some point in time, did something to steal powers from this other family.”

“Well it sounds like you guys are the bad guys in this scenario. Which tracks knowing you.”

“Well I’m pretty sure they did it in retaliation to them killing someone in my family in cold blood.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. So this thing goes back generations but I’m pretty sure something must have happened between my mom and this woman from that coven. I don’t know what, but she in particular has a vendetta against her and our family.”

“Is she the witch you had a run in with this summer?”

“No,” you frown looking down, “It was her son.” 

Stiles’s eyebrows raise, “Oh. And did he immediately try to kill you with some spell at first sight?”

I shake my head, “Nope. He just…pretended to be someone else to gain my trust and subsequently asked me out just for me to find out none of it was real and he was trying to get to my magic the whole time.”

Stiles widens his eyes with each new piece of information, his stomach dropping as he learns that this guy used and manipulated you. Yeah you definitely weren’t the bad guy in this scenario. 

“So, fun summer for me. How was yours?” You ask looking back up at him with a blank look on your face.

Stiles ignores your attempt to diffuse the conversation. “So you were seeing this guy all summer thinking he was some innocent…fling…and the whole time he was actually plotting to, what, kill you? Take your powers?”

“Something like that,” You shrug, “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out the end game with that one.”

“How did he even track you down in the first place if you’ve been hiding away here your whole life.”

“Apparently they’ve been biding time in Salem, hoping one day I’d find my way there to train with other witches. And I didn’t even know there were people to look out for until a few days ago, when I was talking to another witch I had met, who recognized his mom in a picture. I left on the spot and haven’t seen him since.”

“Did you tell him where you were from?”

“Nope, was trying to go for the whole, casual, mysterious summer fling thing.” you chuckle humorlessly. “That worked out so well for me.”

Stiles sighs, “So he has no idea where to look for you, and that amulet should keep him from getting any hints.”

“Yup.”

“And after all this…your parents are still out there hiding from them, too?” 

You nod, looking down again, “Yeah…sometimes I wonder if they’re even still alive.”

Stiles frowns, “Jesus…now I’m almost sorry for…”

“No, no,” You shake your head, your face twisting in discomfort. “Don’t do that. This isn't what we do. You don’t feel sorry for me. You despise me. And honestly I prefer that version of us, I can’t stand the thought of you sympathizing with me.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles holds his hands up, “I get it. You know maybe I’m not sorry, because a fucked up childhood doesn’t excuse the shit you did to us last year with Peter, and the generally annoying shit you’ve done since.”

You make a face but don’t argue with him.

Stiles continues staring you down, with an unfamiliar look on his face. “But…that shit that guy pulled on you this summer…even you don’t deserve to be taken advantage of like that.”

Your eyes slowly revert back to looking at his face, trying not to give away how vulnerable you felt sharing that information; not to mention how vulnerable you were this summer just to have that blow up in your face. You shift slightly, still uncomfortable with the atmosphere surrounding you two right now. You cross your arms tightly across your chest. 

“Thanks…”

The two of you let the moment hang in the air for another few seconds before you clear your throat, not being able to stand the sincerity any longer.

“Well I guess next time I try to have a casual fling, I shouldn’t do it with a stranger I knew for all of a day before going out with him.”

Stiles chuckles dryly, “Guess not. Maybe you’d be better off getting to know a guy for a while first. If you can keep one around long enough without driving them up the wall.”

“Ha ha. Because you’re the picture of a guy with a successful love life. Remind me of the last time Lydia gave you a second look?”

Stiles glares at you, as he starts to sputter, “She…was looking at me when I was playing in that lacrosse game.”

“Oh so over three months ago? Wow you’re making huge strides.”

“Look, I’m playing the long game alright?” 

I shake my head, “God, I don’t know why you even bother.”

Stiles' jaw teeters open and closed, “What? Is it that out of the realm of possibility that she could ever like me?”

“No, I just meant you could do better.”

Stiles stutters but no words immediately form in response to that. He stares at you blankly for a few beats. “I can do better? Me? Can do better than Lydia Martin?”

You roll your eyes, “You say that like she’s God's gift to this Earth.”

“Yeah, well…she’s still nice - sometimes - and highly intelligent, not to mention gorgeous.”

“Stiles, I’m not trying to disparage your precious Lydia, I just think you could do better than someone who doesn’t give you the time of day.”

“What…What do you mean?”

“Well for one it's kind of pathetic you’ve been hung up on her for so long with no reciprocation whatsoever.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t say-”

“And second, I don’t understand why a guy like you can’t find a girl who actually likes him back.”

“Well you say that like I’ve got a parade of girls waiting in line to date me.”

You shrug, “Trust me, there are some.”

Stiles scoffs, “Yeah right.”

“I think you're underestimating how many girls just want a sweet guy who will treat them well with a moderately nice face.” 

Stiles shifts awkwardly, “Is that your type?”

“My tastes are a little more refined than that.”

“Well how do you know most girls see me that way?”

“Because objectively speaking, you do have a moderately nice face. Maybe even a step above that. And look at you, you grew your hair out this summer. Do that to impress Lydia?”

Stiles flushes, “Well not just…”

“Because I’m sure it will work on plenty of other girls when they see you at school next week.”

Stiles lets out a deep breath, looking at you curiously, “Why are you saying all this?”

You uncross your arms and sigh, taking a step towards him, “Look I’m just stating facts, and maybe I can spare you a compliment since you helped me out tonight. You deserve better than waiting for someone who may never come around. And maybe, who knows, I’m wrong and one day Lydia will come to her senses and see what's right there in front of her. But don’t waste all your time doing nothing. You could at least have fun in the meantime. And I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance.”

You give Stiles’ shoulder what should be a supportive squeeze, but because it's the two of you it feels wrong. You awkwardly lift your hand and pat him a couple times before retracting your arm all together.

Stiles stares at you, once again in awe, confused why you’re being so civil with him…let alone…kind? His eyes hone in on the way your nose scrunches up when you instantly regret touching his shoulder, and the way your lip curves up in amusement as you look back up at him. Your eyes have a warm glow amidst the candles lighting up your room. And he’s once again in close enough proximity to you to inhale your scent; a mix of vanilla, berries, and amber. 

Yeah it definitely must be a witch thing, because he somehow finds himself being drawn closer to you. And before he knows it, he’s leaning completely in and kissing you. 

It's a rare occurrence for you to be taken by surprise, but you do jump slightly when his lips touch yours. He did it so fast you didn’t even have a chance to process it, let alone prevent it from happening. You don’t immediately kiss back but you don’t immediately pull away either, chalking it up to the shock. 

Stiles very quickly realizes what he’s doing and the fact that you’re not reciprocating as he pulls away slightly to take in your full reaction.

You narrow your eyes at him slightly, “I didn’t mean me.” 

Stiles’ eyes widen and his lips part, once again struggling to form words as he starts to pull back.

For some reason you’ll probably never understand, you instinctively reach out to hold his arms to keep him in place. He looks at your hands and then back to your face curiously. 

You quietly breathe out, “I also didn’t say to stop.”

Stiles breath hitches, his lips curving up just slightly before he dives towards your lips again. 

This time you instantly kiss back, pulling him closer by cupping either side of his face, as his arms come to snake around your waist. 

As the kiss becomes more intense, Stiles reluctantly pulls away for oxygen. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You started it,” you muse, chasing after his lips.

He laughs softly, letting you kiss him deeply another few minutes before he gently caresses your face, pulling away.

“And I don’t hate what we’re doing but it's also very out of character. For both of us.”

“To make out with a hot person?”

“No,” Stiles sighs, but can’t fight the blood rushing to his cheeks, “I mean making out with each other. Honestly, this whole night has been out of character. We normally can’t stomach being in each other’s vicinity for more than five minutes.”

“Well if you haven’t noticed, this activity doesn’t require a whole lot of talking so I’m finding it easier to tolerate you.” 

You watch Stiles roll his eyes, trying to rationalize what’s happening between you two. So you take a deep breath.

“Look, we’re not going to suddenly stop despising each other but there’s nothing wrong with two consenting people having a little fun. And you know…probably never speaking about it again.”

Stiles shifts the weight between his feet, becoming overwhelmed by the situation and the possibilities of where it could go; possibilities that both scare and excite him. And he can’t figure out what emotion is winning out. 

“This probably won’t come as a shock to you,” Stiles speaks up again quietly, not meeting your eyes, “But I’ve never really…been with a girl…like this.”

The corner of your lips curl up. It wasn’t new information, but there was something about seeing this boy who usually goes toe to toe in insults with you be so open and honest with you.

You place your hands over his where they still rest on either side of your face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can go as far as you want. Or we can stop now and pretend like this never happened. You are more than welcome to go.”

“I don’t think I want to go,” Stiles whispers hoarsely.

“Then don’t go,” You whisper back, leaning closer again.

“You’d really want to do this too?”

“Yes-”

“Because I know why I want to but why do you want to? After the guy you were with this summer I would have thought you’d be more…selective.”

“Oh that's exactly what I’m doing.”

“And you want to be with me? Why?”

“Because unlike the last guy, I know what I’m getting with you Stiles,” You state simply, “You’re a good guy. This has no chance of going anywhere. Absolutely no feelings whatsoever to get in the way. It’s perfect.”

Stiles stares at you, taking in your expression for any sign of uneasiness or lies. But he can tell you’re dead serious. His skin starts to burn in anticipation. 

“So we’re doing this,” He says softly, somewhere between a question or a statement. 

“I’m in if you’re in.”

“We do this once and we never talk about it again.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And no one, and I mean no one finds out about this. I mean it, you can’t tell anyone.”

You scoff, “Trust me, I plan to take this to the grave. You should be more concerned with yourself. I can’t see you going five minutes without squealing to Scott that you’ve finally seen a girl naked.”

Stiles closes his eyes and groans, praying you can’t see him blush again. He also can’t even process the fact that he is indeed about to see a girl naked.

After a moment, Stiles finally says, “I don’t have to tell Scott everything.”

“Okay, if you really believe that.” He rolls his eyes, making you chuckle. “So are you game, Stilinski?”

Stiles’ eyes flit across your face, before settling back on your lips. “Fuck it.”

He kisses you deeply and the two of you tug at each other like your bodies are never close enough. Your hands wander over his body until they end up at the buttons of his flannel, and you haphazardly start to undo them before he pulls away briefly to help you get it off of him. He shivers as your cold fingertips trace the contours of his chest and stomach, but he doesn’t get a chance to linger on the feeling as you kiss him again. He takes his turn to pull off your jacket, before sliding his fingers under the hem of your shirt, which you help him maneuver over your head. You once again only let him have a few seconds to take in your exposed skin, only your bra separating you two from complete skin to skin contact, before you’re pulling him back to you again.

“Do you have…” you mutter against his skin as you start to kiss down his jaw and neck, “Protection?”

Stiles’ stomach twists with nerves and excitement as he nods. “Yeah, I have a condom in my wallet.”

You smile against his skin, trailing down to his collarbone, “Been hoping one day Lydia would want to jump your bones?”

Stiles groans, tangling his fingers into your hair, “God, shut up.”

You chuckle darkly before gently pushing against his chest so you can move onto your bed. 

Time passes in a hazy blur as you and Stiles finish undressing each other between sloppy and heated kisses. You try to go at a moderate pace with him, despite your own eagerness. To your pleasant surprise, Stiles is a quick learner as you talk him through how to touch you and make you feel good. And he makes you feel very good. And despite his own timidness and learning curve, he is very attentive to your needs as well as your comfort levels, constantly checking in and making sure you’re okay. 

You’re more than okay by the time you’re done, the two of you collapsing back onto the bed, sweaty and panting.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out staring at the ceiling. 

You smirk, pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, “Yup.”

You lay in silence for a few moments as you catch your breaths before Stiles speaks again.

“I hope tonight makes us even, because I think that counts as two additional favors,” He says teasingly, but when you don’t immediately respond, his head turns to you quickly, “You finished both times right?”

You chuckle softly and nod, turning your head towards him as well, “I did.”

“Good,” he sighs in relief, “I did, too.”

“I know you did.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but laughs softly, “Right.”

“And I’d say I was the one doing the favor,” You muse, “Now the next time you find a girl willing to sleep with you, you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve.”

He huffs with a nod, “I guess you’re right.” Another few moments of silence pass between you when Stiles looks at you again, and asks softly, “But seriously, it was good for you?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes.”

“Like, you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“When have I ever worried about preserving your feelings? Trust me, if it was bad or you were doing something wrong I would have told you.”

“Yeah I guess that’s true,” he sighs. Another beat. “But like on a scale of one to ten?”

“Stiles!”

“I know, I know.” he regresses. “Can I ask for real though - and full permission to punch me if this is insensitive - but compared to the last guy…was I better?”

He watches you stare at him blankly for a few seconds before he starts to back pedal. “Probably not right? He was probably way more experienced even if he..”

“This was better.” 

He turns to you again in surprise. 

“You were better.”

Stiles stutters, “R-really?”

You nod, “You’re not an asshole who only thinks about himself. Don’t ever lose that quality.”

Stiles smiles softly, his cheeks warming up again. 

“Seriously, it was good. Great even,” You continue, “If that’s what you’re like with me, I can’t imagine how good it would be with a girl you actually like.”

That last statement was like a bucket of cold water splashing over him. Right. You guys hated each other. And you were still the same girl who made his life inexplicably harder this year. But those things were easy to forget while he stared at you, your messy hair splayed across your pillow, your bare skin lit by the soft glow of the candles in your room, with a few noticeable marks across your collarbone that he was responsible for. 

But this would be the first and last time this ever happened. And he will probably have complicated feelings about it for the foreseeable future, knowing the memory of his first time will always connect him to you. But he surprisingly feels less guilty than he would have thought.

“I should probably go,” He whispers after another few seconds of taking her and the moment in. Part of him wishes he didn’t have to leave at all and continue living in this bubble of false reality and denial. But he thinks his brain takes over in an act of self preservation to get out of there before he gets in too deep. 

“Yeah, you probably should,” You whisper back, taking a deep breath. 

He watches you sit up, dragging the sheet covering you up with you. He sucks in a breath as you grab a dark purple robe off of your bedpost and slip it on, covering the rest of your body and taking the image away from him. With that, he also forces himself up, locating his boxers and jeans on the floor and pulling them on. 

You circle your bed as he starts to pull on his flannel again. He feels nervous under your gaze, and about how to act right now, making him fumble with the buttons. Without a word, you reach out and slowly and quietly help him finish buttoning it. He takes this one last opportunity to watch your face at this level of proximity, knowing he’ll probably never have the chance to do that again. 

As you finish the top button, you look up at his gaze still laser focused on you, and for some reason he doesn’t feel compelled to look away. 

“Thank you for tonight,” You say softly with a small smirk playing at your lips, “Thought I just needed a protection spell after the summer I had, but I guess I needed that as well.”

Stiles feels himself smirk too, “Happy to be of service to both.”

You slide your hands across his chest, smoothing out his shirt before taking a deep breath and step back. 

“So, business as usual? I’m sure we’ll run into each other again once Scott gets himself into some more supernatural shit, and we’ll be back at each other’s throats in no time.”

Stiles chuckles, “I look forward to it.”

You give him your version of a tiny genuine smile. “Do you need me to walk you out?”

He shakes his head, “I’m sure I can find my way.”

You nod, also taking in his appearance under the glow of the candles while you can. You decide to take the opportunity to close the distance between the two of you and kissing him chastely one last time. 

Stiles closes his eyes and reciprocates automatically, but the kiss is over before its even begun. He watches you pull away from him, unable to tear his eyes away from yours.

“Goodnight, Stiles,” you whisper before stepping away and walking around him towards your desk again to clean up.

With his back towards you now, he smiles to himself, huffing in disbelief at the night he’s had. 

“Goodnight,” He says back softly as he takes steps towards your door. He glances back at you one last time, before leaving and finding his way back downstairs and out your front door. 

Once he shut the door after sliding into the driver's seat, he lets out a long deep breath and rubs his face. Losing his virginity to his self-proclaimed mortal enemy was not on his bingo card for the night - or ever. But the more he sits with it, the more he’s weirdly pleased that it happened. Honestly, it was like best case scenario. Figuring out sex with someone he’s not trying to impress - well, to a certain degree - took some of the pressure off. And now he doesn't have to think about it anymore. Unfortunately, it was really good. Extremely good. Too good to just have been a one time thing, and part of him is disappointed there’s no chance of ever experiencing it again. 

It was for the best. The moment hell freezes over is when he’d have actual feelings past irritation and mild rage when it came to you. So he shakes his head, putting their night together behind him as he pulls out of your driveway.

Still in your bedroom, you lean against the wall watching him drive away from the window. You smile to yourself, having a sneaking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you do this. Stiles just didn’t know it yet.

author's note: dying to know what people think of this, not the type of stuff i usually write. firstly, sorry for the lack of steam, i've never written smut and not sure i ever will but hope it alluded to enough for yall. also again, took my witch idea and flipped it into an alternate universe where the reader is a lil evil. there are elements of the other pieces i'm writing that assumes similar lore/backstory for the witch, but in this version, you don't grow up as stiles & scott's bff, you're isolated leading to some villianous tendancies. i also know i hinted at a lot of back story with some pieces from seasons 1-2, with this ultimately taking place right before season 3. so i have some ideas of writing other parts that dive into some of those moments, plus more parts that come after this of course. so let me know what kind of stuff you're interested in seeing from evil!witch x stiles (evil being used pretty loosely) THANK YOU FOR READING!

[hyukakisses]

— emo soobin as leviathan from obey me!

pairings: emo soobin x fem reader

plot: random soobin as leviathan from obey headcanons

warnings: perv soobin, loser soobin, red flag soobin, virgin soobin and virgin reader, cursing, faint smut, tsundere-to-yandere soobin, strangers to lovers troupe, bratty sun reader, service top soobin

soobin was absolutely seething in anger when he found out lord diavolo was responsible for the human exchange student committee. the emo demon boy hated humans or normies as he likes to call them.

soobin just didn’t understand the hype behind humans. the indigo-colored haired male thought they were disgusting. worse than angels, another type of creature he hated.

the tall boy kinda hoped that one of the humans that was apart of the human exchange committee would at least be a pretty girl; soobin longed for a player two :( he felt so lonely watching his brothers all have their girlfriends and all he had was his pet odi. his only friend.

when soobin was told that he needed to show you around RAD, he was not happy.. i mean why him out of all people? soobin was not known to socialize or be friendly.

with a whiny grumble soobin drags his long legs out of the comfort of his room; already annoyed for the day. he just hoped this tour would be over quickly.

soobin would be lying if he said you were ugly, the boy was mesmerized with how you nodded with a pretty smile at his detailed explanations about his favorite girl group kara and his favorite anime character ruri-chan when he should have been going on about the history of the devildom.

“is your hair naturally like that?” your delicate fingers point to soobins head, the emo boy smiled at how you didn’t reach to grab it without asking. “yeah it is” “oh that’s cool! back in the human realm everyone is either born with blonde or brunette. you have really pretty hair” you blush feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“so do you have any more questions?” soobin looked at you, hoping you didn’t. “actually i was wondering maybe when i’m settle in my room we could hang out?” your voice was soft like honey, soobin paused in his tracks. “what? i think you’re getting me confused with yeonjun. what do you mean you want to hang out with me?”

from that day on, soobin had to pinch himself around you, afraid that a pretty human girl like you hanging out with him was some type of dream.

soobin hated how easily and quickly it was to lose his aloof and tsundere act around you, he hated how quickly he was able to gain romantic feelings for you.

soobin liked how you invited yourself over to his room, most people would find his otaku activities weird and boring but you found them fun. you didn’t mind being locked away in soobin’s bedroom, snuggled up in his bedsheets watching bunny girl senpai over and over again.

“why have you been avoiding me?” after not seeing soobin for nearly a week you decided to march up in his room demanding an answer. “i-i haven’t..” “yes.. yes you have! you’ve been ignoring my texts and just been on league of legends all week!” you screech making soobin curse internally, the boy has been ignoring you. “i thought things were going so well!” you sat on the tall boy’s bed itching closer to his laying body. “they have been” soobin felt his heart thump at how close you were approaching. “so why are you avoiding me?” your chin rests on soobin’s chest. “do you not think i’m pretty enough for your time and attention anymore? is there someone else?” soobin couldn’t stop staring at your pink lips wondering what your lip gloss tasted like. “binnie? hello? are you even listening-“ you let out a yelp in surprise at your friend shutting you up with a kiss. your body melting against soobin’s, you pout pulling away. “you know, if you wanted to be my boyfriend you could have just said so”

soobin wasn’t big with words, he preferred just listening to you talk your ear off. nodding dumbly at your words with sparkling eyes wondering if you’d be that talkative if he was eating you out- “binnie? you’re still listening to me right?” “hmm? oh yeah you’re talking about wanting to go blonde together”

you also didn’t mind being his personal guinea pig when it came to cosplay. you really enjoyed all the special attention and praises you got for staying still without complaining.

soobin also liked how you’d actually listened to kara with and for him, your favorite song being honey and his favorite song being secretly secretly

the two of you rarely argued unless it was over something stupid like who was better tommy february 6 or tommy heavenly 6? you both couldn’t choose however.

soobin was definitely a service top, as soon as you both got together you were always demanding soobin to your whim. not that your now boyfriend minded. he liked how you were always bratty and bossy. “binnie can we match? i know its pink but it’s pretty” “tie my shoes mister!” “do you mind applying my lipgloss for me?” “princess orders binnie!”

“baby please?” soobin’s large hands loop under your inner thighs, his eyes looking up at you pleadingly as his glossy lips itch closer to your pretty pussy. “m’ sleepy binnie..” a small whine slips your lips, feeling yourself drift to sleep. “you don’t have to do anything baby! just p-please let me a small taste? please?” soobin begs pathetic making you huff. “fine”

a/n: ugh i love soobin

[yazzwrites6962]

Lonely ♡ L Lawliet

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ L Lawliet x Fem!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Author's Note: UNEDITED! Established relationship between L and the reader. This is the first smut I have ever written, so pleaseeeeee be patient with me. I'm just a baby writer (I'm over 18. Don't take this literally). If you find any more warnings I should list, please let me know! I don't own any characters or images!

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Summary: It's lonely being the wife of the greatest detective in the world, especially when he's not the best at showing affection. However, something seems different about him today.

Word Count: 2533

Warnings: Sexual content, themes of loneliness, slight angst, OOC L, Fem! oral receiving, penetration, unprotected intercourse, light breeding kink, praise, begging, daddy kink, creampie.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you married him. You knew there would be many nights when he wouldn't come home. You knew there were some compromises you would have to make. Still, it took its toll on you over the years.

It felt like he married you out of convenience. You met young, and you fell so deeply in love with L the moment you saw him. Maybe it was his wit, or the deep charming look in his eyes. All your friends teased your obvious, painful crush on him. You didn't care. Your heart was set from the moment you met him.

The day he approached you and asked you to marry him was the happiest day of your life. You readily agreed without a second thought. You didn't pause to question why he asked. You didn't ponder about the fact you had only a handful of interactions.

"After much observation, I had determined that you will make an exceptional spouse." That's what L always told you when you would ask why. It was true. On the rare occasion that your husband was home, he had a nice meal waiting for him. He had a clean home and a made bed. It was a practical relationship.

He gave you affection, of course, but it always seemed like a chore to him. There were only a handful of times the two of you had been intimate. He never fully seemed to give himself to you, and the loneliness began to weigh you down.

A quick buzz sounded from your phone. You pull yourself off the couch, stretching a bit before checking the notification. It was a text from your husband. He was on his way home, after a week of being caught up in his work and sleeping at the office again. Despite all your conflicting feelings, butterflies fill your stomach. You love your husband. That has never changed.

You rush yourself to the kitchen. Early in your marriage, you'd managed to learn how to make his favorite desserts. You began to slave away over the counters, wanting to give your best effort. L was rarely ever home, so when he was, you gave it your all.

You hear the front door open. He's home much faster than you had anticipated. The desserts you were working on are still baking. You hadn't had time to get ready. Your hair was a mess, your clothes covered in creams and flour, and no makeup. You see L round the corner into the kitchen before his eyes land on you.

"Welcome home, Sweetheart." You say with a chuckle. "You came so much quicker than I thought you would. I haven't had time to finish my cooking or clean myself up."

L is silent, his gaze fixed on you. You grow nervous, fearing his disapproval. He seems tense or frustrated. You have trouble telling what's going on in his mind. He nearly never opens up about his feelings to you.

"Is everything alright? You seem... quiet." You comment, wiping your hands and approaching your husband. "Is everything going alright at work?"

"I want to have intercourse," Your eyes widen as L finally speaks. There were not the words you were expecting to hear. Not even a greeting. Straight to the point. "With you, of course."

"W-Well, no duh with me! I'd sure hope so!" You choke out, growing embarrassed. "What's this about? You seem off, Sweetheart. What's going on?"

"I love you." L says suddenly. He had only said this once before, on your wedding day, and you hardly believed that. It only felt as though it was part of his vows. You were always the more affectionate one, expressing your love without expecting any response.

"I... I love you too." You mutter, shocked by this sudden declaration. "W-What's going on, L. Seriously. If something is wrong, I need to know. I want to help."

"I know you do. You always have." L gives you a rare smirk, awkwardly wrapping his arms around you. Hugs were given on occasion, but this felt different. You could hear his heart beating out of his chest as you lay your head against him. "You have always been my greatest ally, Y/N. I realize that my appreciation for you goes unspoken more often than not. I would like to have intercourse, as a display of my gratitude and affection for you."

You look up at him, scanning his expression. It's comforting to feel his embrace. It's something you rarely get to experience. Yet, you feel this must be too good to be true.

"Darling, you don't have to do anything like that for me to know that you appreciate me, or that you care." Although, in the past year, you truly haven't felt appreciated or loved. You've felt more like a maid than anything.

"Y/N, I want you." He says, in a tone that sounds like a nearly frustrated whine. It's a sound you have never heard before. Still, everything indicates that he is speaking the truth.

He hesitates for a moment before leaning down to meet you face to face. His hands reach to your chin, tilting your head slightly. It's almost as if he's inspecting your face. Just as you are about to ask what he is doing, his lips land on yours.

Your husband was never fond of kissing. He was disgusted by the idea of sharing saliva. Yet, here you were, squeaking in surprise as his tongue forced his way into your mouth. You relax into the kiss. It's soft, and passionate. Your heartbeat practically echoes throughout the room as your excitement increases.

His hands find their way to your waist. He rubs circles on your skin and toys with the fabric of your shirt. You lean into him, your hands roaming his surprisingly toned chest. When you first married, he was much scrawnier than he is now. The thought of your wedding fills your heart with joy.

It was a small ceremony. Private. Very few people knew. Still, you felt as though you were the luckiest girl in the world. When those doors finally opened and L laid his eyes on you, you could've sworn you saw him tear up.

"You are arousing." He whispers in your ear, snapping you out of your pleasant memories. His hands snake under your shirt and gently trace your bare skin. "Even such minimal contact with you can cause a physical reaction."

You look down to see the outline of a very large bulge through L's sweatpants. His arms wrap at your hips, picking you up off the ground. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His erection prods against you. He carries you to your bedroom, gently placing you onto the bed. His dominance and affection are unusual, but very much welcome.

"Do I have your consent to remove your clothes and proceed with intercourse?" You chuckle at his formality. You've known him so long. He's seen every part of you. Yet, something still makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Yes, Lawliet. You do." With that, his hands swiftly move to your pants, sliding them off your hips, down your thighs, and finally off your body entirely. He kneels against the side of the bed, peppering kisses on your skin.

Beforehand, intimacy felt somewhat cold and distant. He had always kept your enjoyment in mind, but had never shown so much affection as he had been showing now.

You feel your arousal pooling as his kisses make their way higher and higher, his thumb teasing at the waistline of your panties. He hooks his index finger around them, slowly pulling them down.

"My, someone is eager." He jokes, his hands positioning your thighs over his shoulders. "Open wide for me, Princess." Simply the sound of his husky voice calling you an affectionate pet name would've made your heart race. What makes your heart nearly explode was the feeling of his tongue swiping a line up your wet core. You let out a shaky breath as he continues, lapping up your arousal.

At first, he is slow and delicate. This is something you had never done before. L was never a fan of foreplay. He enjoyed getting straight to the point. However, as small whimpers and moans escaped your throat, his intensity increased. He grew desperate to hear more, devouring you like an animal. Your thighs squeezed around his head, but this did not stop him. His tongue continued to make your mind go cloudy. Soon, you felt your climax approaching.

"L-Lawliet!" You whimper, moans cascading from your mouth like a waterfall. "I can't take much more!" Your hands, which once gripped the bedsheets, travel to your husband's unruly hair. You tug it lightly, causing him to grunt. His nails dig into your waist as he continues.

Soon, you find yourself releasing on his face with a loud moan. He licks up your liquids and you squeak as his tongue passes back over your most sensitive parts.

Your husband stands, his chest heaving as he undresses. Any remaining garments of yours are shed quickly as well. The moment feels so intimate, and vulnerable. You reach towards the nightstand. With how infrequently you and your husband would have intercourse, you find it somewhat pointless to consistently take birth control. Instead, your primary contraceptive was now condoms. However, L's hand stops you at your wrist.

"I want to have a child. Would this be acceptable to you?" He asks, gently, his eyes never leaving yours. This feels like such a sudden development. L had never expressed interest in having a family before. However, this was something you had been hoping for since the beginning. Tears of joy fill your eyes as you nod. "May I have your verbal confirmation?"

"Of course, my Love." You say quickly, as if the opportunity will pass you by. "I'd want nothing more, but where is this coming from?" Your husband smiles as he leans over your frame, his arms on either side of you.

"I have found myself thinking of you more and more often. The idea of protecting and providing for you has always been in my mind. Yet, in the past few weeks, I have been craving your warmth under the pressure of my current case." L says softly. You listen intently. He has rarely ever opened up about his feelings. Especially not about your relationship. "I do not mean physical warmth in this context. Although, that is something I have missed. I am referring to your overwhelming domesticity and optimism. You are comforting."

"I find you comforting too." Your hand cups his cheek. He nods, happy with your response as he lifts your right leg ever so slightly, positioning himself at your entrance. You look down, spotting his throbbing cock, pre-cum leaking from the tip. You didn't think it possible to become more aroused than you already were, but here you felt your heart race faster and your face grow warmer. He teases you, rubbing himself against your wetness. "Please, Baby." You groan, earning a hitch in breath from L.

He pushes himself in slowly, feeling your warm walls squeeze around his as he bottoms out. He exhales a shaky breath, his nails clawing at the sheets and his eyes squeezed shut. He fears that if he opens his eyes and sees you beneath him, he wouldn't last.

"You take me so well." His voice is low, and he finally opens his eyes. He has given you a few moments to adjust, and he begins to pump in and out of you.

His thrusts are slow and loving at first as he praises you, peppering you with kisses. As your moans and whimpers grow louder, his thrusts pick up in speed, like he's feeding off your pleasure. The sounds of wet slapping skin fill the room, accompanied with L's occasional labored breaths and grunts. Your legs are wrapped around his hips, and your nails scratch into his back. You can tell your husband is getting closer to his climax, as his thrusts become more animalistic and sloppier.

"That's my good girl." He growls as your walls tighten; you're getting closer to your release as well. You whimper, his name slipping from your lips. This only seems to send him further into depravity, as he lets out a loud groan and a hand grabs at your ass.

"I-I'm so close-" You whimper as your husband presses into your sweet spot over and over again. His pace slows down, his eyes laced with desire.

"Beg for it. Beg to cum for me, or I will stop." You don't dare test or tease him. You know that he absolutely has the self-control to stop right then and there. Your legs tighten around his hips.

"No! Please! Don't stop, L. Please, I need this so bad. Please, let me cum. You make me feel so good Daddy." Though you had never called him this before, it seemed to unlock something within him. His thrusts become faster than you can handle, and your orgasm begins to wash over you. "A-Ah! Please! Right there!"

"Fuck." He whispers, lowering his head beside yours. You can hear his subtle cursing and growls right in your ear. Your mind fogs as you reach your climax, biting down on his shoulder as you cum on his cock. "G-Gonna cum-" He does so soon after, emptying himself out inside you with a couple extra thrusts.

He takes a moment to catch his breath before collapsing onto the bed beside you. The glimmer of sweat on his bare chest is truly a sight to see. Somehow, his hair managed to get even messier than it usually is. You giggle, happy to see your husband in such a vulnerable state.

"I hope you found this satisfactory." He turns to you, his eyes shining with affection and adoration. You turn on your side, laying your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

"What's gotten into you?" You ask, tracing doodles on his body with your finger. He hums, thinking of a proper way to answer your question. "You're very affectionate today."

"There are a pair of individuals I have been observing for a time. They go by the names of Light Yagami and Misa Amane. Miss Amane is quite affectionate with Mr. Yagami. However, I notice that he often will not return this sentiment. She is left unsatisfied and desperate for any crumb of attention from Light." L turns to you, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. "I do not desire to do the same to you. I do love you, Y/N. Since the day I met you. I would like to have a family with you. I would like to be more present. I want you to feel the love I have for you."

You smile, hugging his tightly. You try to hold the tears in your eyes. You've always been relatively confident that he cared for you and loved you. He just shows his affection a little differently. Yet, his concern for your happiness filled a loneliness you'd refused to acknowledge for a long time.

"I love you too."

[earako]

Saw de-aged Stan stuff and wanna join the Ford realizing Stan was a baby when he was kicked out bandwagon

-/-

Their niblings had just celebrated their seventeenth birthday a week ago and Ford couldn't help but think about just how young his niblings are.

Babies...the both of them. It didn't matter if they would be old enough to start college soon, Mabel and Dipper were still children and the thought of either of them on the streets, cold, hungry, and alone filled Ford with a rage so intense he genuinely scared himself.

How anyone could look at a 17 year old child and think that they could survive just fine on their own without a home, friends, family, or a high school diploma truly baffled Ford.

Seventeen...it was right there in the name. Teen. A child. Not an adult.

Seventeen year olds still needed guidance and correction. They still needed to be taught what 'better' meant because how could they know better if they had no reference for what exactly 'better' looked like.

A seventeen year old kicked out on the street nowadays would result in steep consquences for the offending party. There would be an investigation, law enforcement, organizations that didn't really exist back when Ford and Stan were kids would get involved.

Stan...

Stan was seventeen when he was kicked out. Ford used to convince himself that Stan had left willingly. He was too old now to delude himself with that lie.

Stan, little seventeen year old Stanley, was forced out of his home.

Ford tried to imagine Dipper and Mabel out on the streets. He tried to imagine them with Stan's scars, he tried to imagine their niblings scared, paranoid, ravenous hunger making their little teenage frames shake-

"It was wrong."

"Ford?"

"What Filbrick did," Ford growled, turning to face his brother. "What our father did was beyond inappropriate-" Ford gestured to where Mabel and Dipper were passed out on the lawn, napping in the noon day sun.

They wanted to spend one more summer in Gravity falls before heading off to their final year of high school.

They were so young.

Stan was so young.

"You were Mabel and Dipper's age," Ford continued, "It was wrong." To Ford's dismay his brother just shrugged.

"Yeah, well. Different time and all that." Ford pratically bristled at Stan's nonchalant response.

"If what happened to you happened to the twins you'd be furious-hell, I would be furious!"

"Keep it down, pointdexter, you'll wake the kids!" Stan hissed, his eyes darting over to their still asleep niblings. Ford clamped his mouth shut, slowly exhaling, and closed his eyes.

He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder.

Stan.

"Look, I appreciate you going all big brother mode but honestly, what could you have done?"

"I could have stood up to Pa."

"After you thought I had betrayed you?" Ford was silent.

Stan...Stan had a point. Ford was angry and hurting and not thinking about the reprecussions of his fathers actions or of closing the curtains on Stan.

He could have done something though!

...Right?

"Ford, we were the same age. You were a kid too when that happened. We were kids raised with being angry and terrified of our dad as something normal. We couldn't do better then because no one ever showed us what better looked like."

'Like the twins,' went unsaid but Ford already knew thats where Stan's train of thought was headed.

Ironically, their great niece and nephew had to be the ones to show them what an actual loving family looked like.

(No offense to Ma, Ford adored his mother, but she was also a woman of her time...and a compulsive liar...hm...maybe he should take up Shermie on that offer for a therapist recommendation...)

"...I just...seeing now just how young you were..."

"Again, we were the same age, Ford." Ford huffed.

"I still say it was wrong. What Filbrick did."

"I know," Stan said, reaching up to squeeze Ford's shoulder. "Give yourself some slack too, bro. Both of us were young and hurting. But now we're old and making things better." Ford sighed and lightly tapped his fist against Stan's chest.

"And people called you the dumb one?" Stan rolled his eyes and groaned.

"You killed the moment. Good job."

"I try."

[discordiansamba]

iroh was across the threshold of the room in a flash, dragging him into a tight embrace. in any other situation, zuko probably would have complained about the lack of air, but instead he just buried his head into the crook of his uncle's neck.

"uncle," he says, "-i'm so sorry."

"i am the one who should apologize, zuko," iroh says, "-for not being able to protect you."

for a long time, they don't say anything. zuko is keenly aware that they're being watched by the avatar and his friends. seeing uncle again feels a lot like coming home, even though zuko's... unsure where home is now. he'd gotten so used to living in ba sing se.

he can't stay here, though.

everyone in this city knows his face- and knows that face belongs to lee. but zuko isn't lee anymore. he can't pretend to be him. he'd made this choice as lee, knowing that he'd have to give up the life he'd built for himself here. now that he was zuko again, he didn't think he could stomach putting on earth kingdom green and living a life of serving tea.

uncle finally pulls away from him, patting his shoulders. he tells him that he is going to make the tea this time, and that's final. zuko laughs, and lets him. it's weird. he kind of thought he would hate tea after... everything, but it's become a comfort to him. maybe it's just a trace of lee that he's never going to get rid of.

aang and his friends wisely choose to excuse themselves, to give them a bit of privacy. iroh watches them go, and tells zuko that he's proud of him for putting that past of his behind him. zuko just huffs. he congratulates his uncle on becoming fire lord.

they sit and drink tea together. iroh catches zuko up to speed on what has happened in the fire nation in his absence. zuko... hesitantly tells him a few things about his life as lee, since it's all he really has to talk about. uncle leans over the table with a leering grin when he makes the terrible mistake of bringing up jin, asking what his plans are.

"...i have no idea," zuko admits, "-i think i might actually need to see her again first. i don't know if i even still like her. i don't know if she'll even still like me."

uncle tells him that he can take as much time as he likes. he must still have lingering attachments to this city. there is no judgment in his tone. and... he's right. zuko doesn't think he'll ever be able to bring himself to put on earth kingdom green again, but he's grown fond of ba sing se. it's weird. he feels like he should hate it.

it had been his prison.

he just hadn't known it.

the next day, zuko decides to bite the bullet and go see ba sing se with his own eyes. he'd seen it before- but his time as lee had changed him. he stays in fire nation red, but he ties a wound cover around his scar to hide what it actually looks like. he can't see lee in the mirror anymore, but he knows other people likely will.

besides. it's not like he can see out of the damn eye anyways.

walking the familiar streets of the middle ring as himself is a strange experience. he knows so many of these people. for some of them he can even rattle off their usual order. some of them were even his friends. they give him an odd look as he passes, but zuko pointedly does not look at them. if he pretends he doesn't know them, it'll probably be fine.

"lee?"

two years of responding to that name has zuko turning his head before he can stop himself. thankfully, the person who called out to him is just jin.

...oh. it's jin.

...well. fuck. guess he's making this decision now.

[procyonloser]

Pt 8

After much bed squeaking, panting, moaning, and appeals to deities Lucifer only maybe kind of sort of believed in on a bad day, Adam pushed himself off of Lucifer, and fell onto the bed beside him. He had a happy lazy look on his face, eyes still glazed from what Lucifer hoped was a phenomenal orgasm.

Lucifer reached down and tidied himself up quickly, throwing his condom away, enjoying how slick it felt on the outside before it went in the bin. Adam had been amazing, best sex Lucifer had had since before he was married.

"You pass," Adam said fondly, and Lucifer laughed.

"I didn't know I was being tested." Lucifer preened slightly under the compliment. "You know, I'm a perfectionist, what score did I get?"

"Me, I'm the score." Adam grinned cheekily, moving in closer to Lucifer's body, until Lucifer was practically resting his head on his shoulder. "I really didn't know what to expect from you, in general. I thought you were cute immediately, but Lute always tells me I have shit taste. But, most people don't make anglerfish jokes with me. Plus, you seem like a good dad, and I could use that. I mean, I do my job well, but I'm kind of a mess. Seriously, I'm never taking you to my apartment."

Lucifer felt his heart grow, and he leaned up to kiss Adam, even though he'd been kissing him (everywhere) all night, it still didn't exactly feel like enough. Was this what love at first sight felt like? Maybe Lucifer was getting ahead of himself, but it seemed pretty clear that Adam wanted more dates.

They didn't talk much more for a few minutes, just enjoying one another, leisurely kissing, touching, feeling each other. Until Lucifer's phone buzzed on the side table, and he was forced to retrieve it and look at the message. Apparently, Charlie had woken up in the middle of the night wanting her dad, and Lilith had just calmed her down, but thought Lucifer should know.

"You and the ex seem on good terms," Adam said, clearly having read the message beside him.

"Yeah, I mean. She destroyed my heart a few years ago, but we're okay now." Lucifer laughed, but it hid a not so deep hurt, one that kept the ring on his finger. "We had Charlie when things were starting to go south between us, which was a bad idea."

Adam made a noise of acknowledgement, but his expression grew slightly more closed off. "Yeah, never helps." He said, sitting up and resting his arms on his knees. "... My ex and I tried to have a kid at one point."

Lucifer blinked, eyes going big, before glancing down at Adam. "Did you... Were you?"

"...Yup," Adam said quietly. "...Only lasted till the end of the first term. I didn't want to try again after."

Lucifer's shoulders fell, and he moved in closer, wrapping an arm around Adam, to the best of his ability, given their size differences. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, but thanks." Adam said with a sideways smile. "Do you want to go out some time with Charlie too? I know a few kid friendly places."

"Anything with you," Lucifer said honestly, and Adam kissed him.

"You're so corny, I love it."

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 10

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

WARNING: This is a long chapter

First - Prev - Next

Ch.10

“Do you remember how you came to Gravity Falls in the first place?”

“I was just passing by.”

“Yes, but this town is isolated, and you have no means of transportation.”

“Trainhopping, I was hiding on a train for two days I think, maybe three? Decided to jump off here.”

“Do you know why you decided to do that here, and not anywhere else?”

“...”

“Stan?”

“It’s funny, specs - a couple months back, I’d already been with my pal Rick for a while, right? Just one heist, escapade, or criminal venture after another, for seven months straight. And it was great while it lasted, but then he asked me if I wanted to stay with him in another dim- someplace far away. And I wanted to, ya know? There’s always been this itch in the back of my mind that I wanted to go around the world on some grand adventure, and he was offering that to me on a silver platter. But I told him no.”

“And why was that, Stan?”

“...It’s stupid.”

“I wouldn’t call any of your reasoning stupid, I’m not here to judge you.”

“...I always wanted to go on an adventure- but something was missing. It’s like- I dunno if it’s intuition or some spiritual mumbo jumbo, it’s like I’m looking for something. But I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“Do you have an idea what it could be?”

“A part of… me? I’m missing something. Not just my memories- but something else. I think I might have made a promise, I just… don’t remember what it was, or who I promised to. I guess I’ve been drifting around trying to find it.”

“And you felt it was in Gravity Falls?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. There’s something weird here… I just wanted to check this place out, is all.”

“I see. What did you say your relationship with this Rick was like?”

“You don’t need to be jealous, F. We were just friends. Okay, maybe we were kind of an item for a week at most, but that guy isn’t just self-destructive; he’s like a train that wrecks onto a freeway, he can never just destroy himself, he has to wreck the people around him too and create an absolute shit show. Even I have a limit with that shit.”

“You really need to stop putting yourself down like that, Stan. You only ever seem to say negative things about yourself, it ain’t good for you.”

“There isn’t anything good to say, stretch.”

“Don’t sell yourself one egg short of a basket, now. Y’know, your-. Uh, Stanford was telling me that you’re quite clever. He used a trick to get you down here in the first place, but he also said that he wouldn’t be able to trick you again.”

“I should have seen his fake-out coming… I’ll give it to him, it was a good one. But I’m not going to underestimate him, because crazy like his should never be underestimated. What’s he up to anyways? He went to that room that’s always locked.”

“That’s his private study. I believe he goes there when he wants to be alone.”

“...Didn’t he live by himself? Why did he already have that?”

“Can’t say, maybe it’s a quiet and calm space for him.”

(...)

“HE HAS RISEN BABY GIRL.”

“Bill, please stop calling me that. It’s unprofessional.”

“Come on Sixer, at least let the Goo Goo Dolls soundtrack play.”

“The what?”

“Ooop! My bad, it’s not 1998 or 2024 yet. How can I help you today, Fordsy? You haven’t called me in a few weeks.”

“There’s a mindscape I need to access.”

“Oh boy, it’s not usually you who wants to poke around other humans' brains, always prattling on about ethics and consent. What’s the occasion?”

“...You know everything I know when we’re in the mindscape, you already know the answer.”

“Yes, but I still want you to say it out loud. Clearly and concisely, so your dialogue can be read on screen.”

“... I need to get into the mind of my brother, Stanley. He has amnesia, and our leading theory is that it’s due to psychological trauma. But he has been through so much trauma we’re having trouble isolating the definitive event that would have started this.”

“And why wouldn’t he just share that with his beloved twin brother?”

“He does not remember me.”

“Oooh, then he is just like you! Isn't it just precious when twins are twinning?”

“I never forgot about him.”

“Oh Sixer… You might as well have.”

“Just take me to his mind, Cipher… Please.”

“Anything for you, baby boy!”

SNAP

(...)

“So your memories are only clear to a certain point?”

“Yeah. Rick found me wandering around the woods in a ‘catatonic state’, and snapped me out of it. Everything before that… I can remember being on the street, I can remember all the stuff I did, maybe out to a decade? But there’s a lot of holes, lotsa different names I used. And before the streets? Nothing.”

“And when did Rick find you in the woods?”

“What month is it?”

“June.”

“Last May - so about 13 months?”

(...)

“Okay Fordsy he hasn’t made a deal with me so we can’t go too deep, or his mental defenses are just gonna shove us out.”

“Bill, I already know that, why are you explaining it to me?”

“You know; doesn’t mean they know. Unless this is a re-read. In which case; welcome back. Glad you loved or hated it the first time.”

“You are… Beyond comprehension, Bill Cipher.”

“That’s what you love about me though.”

“You have my begrudging, professional respect.”

“From your aspec ass, that’s practically love.”

“Aspe-”

“Oooh! Lookie here, a memory door opened up. He must be opening up to someone right now. Let's barge in haphazardly.”

(...)

“Okay Stan, this might be difficult. But if you ever feel distressed, let me know and we can try grounding techniques okay?’

“You got it, F.”

“Now close your eyes, think back to when you and Rick parted ways.”

(...)

“Sanchez?! How does Stan know-.”

“You know this hilarious crossover character? I already know the answer, but for no particular reason I need you to tell me out loud how you know him.”

“His wife Diane was part one of my PhD programs. She was always so bright and pleasant, but her husband was a nightmare when she brought him around. He was always saying that school wasn’t for smart people, and rubbed his inventions and intelligence in our face.”

“And how is she these days?”

“She passed away from a garage fire a few years ago, her and her little girl. I almost sent him a condolences, but he was such an unpleasant asshole I could not make myself do so.”

“Come on Stan- think about it! You, me, Bird Person, Squanchy-  sci-fi adventures, drugs, bitches. Whattaya say? Let’s ditch this dimension, there isn’t anything for us here anymore.”

“Dimension-?”

“Shh, Fordsy, just let it play out.”

“I… I can’t Rick.”

“Why not?”

“There’s… something here.”

“Did you remember something?”

“I don’t remember who, but I think I’m looking for someone.”

“Stanny-Boy, we’ve been through this before. No one knows you, everywhere we’ve been, ‘cept for the fake names. You should just cut your losses.”

“Wherever we go, we go together.”

“What was that-?”

“Just the distorted voice of his subconscious. It’s probably not important.”

“I’m sorry. But there’s a piece of me missing, and I think it’s still here in this dimension somewhere.”

“You know your credits don’t have monetary value here.”

“I know.”

“And I can’t leave you a space cruiser. You’ll have to walk or steal a car.”

“Either is fine. I’ve done it before.”

“Stan… Are you sure?”

“Here. Take all my credits, you’ll get more out of it than me.”

“You want your dusters back?”

“Trade me.”

“Wait, you don’t want your transdimensional watch anymore?”

“If the pigs catch me, I don’t need them asking too many questions.”

“You know that doesn’t just give you dimensional coordinates and time zones, right? There’s a pulse wave in it that can shatter force fields.”

“Pft, what are the chances I’d ever need that?”

“Ooof, he really fumbled the bag there.”

“My muse, please.”

*Rick takes the watch and gives Stan a pair of brass knuckles*

“Thanks Rick… Hey, it was nice while it lasted.”

“Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“I hope you find that bastard, Prime. Give him the hell he deserves.”

“...Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll miss you too, pal.”

(...)

“Alright, how are you feeling Stan?”

“So far so good.”

“Okay, now let’s go further back. You said your first clear memory is when you met him, let’s go back to that.”

“I was in the back of his shi- iiitty car, I felt like I’d just smoked an entire carton of cigarettes, but in a bad way..”

(...)

“It just- stopped?”

“He’s remembering something else. Just look for another door.”

“Here we go.”

“Wha- where…?”

“Oh hey you’re awake.”

“-’re, you?”

“You’re one tough son of a bitch, y’know? Most of the people I tase end up dead, but you just passed out.”

“You… tased me? Are you a cop?”

“Hell no. I tased you because you attacked me in the woods. Damn near ripped my head off.”

“The woods..?”

“You were wandering around in a catatonic state, can’t tell you how long.”

“A what state?”

“This isn’t going anywhere. Can you tell me your name?”

“It’s…? I... Malone. Wait. It’s- Stan.”

“Stan Malone huh? My name’s Rick Sanchez.”

(...)

“Stan keep your eyes closed. I want you to try to remember what happened before this.”

“Alright…”

“What’s something you can remember? Something you saw, felt, heard?”

“My chest felt really tight…”

(...)

“What is this?”

“Ahh. A pit memory. This is something his brain wants to forget, but can’t permanently delete.”

“So it is a repressed memory?”

“Yes. He’s trying to think about it… but unconsciously, he really doesn’t want to.”

“What happens if we jump in?”

“Sixer, where's your sense of adventure? If it gets too dangerous I’ll just pull us out.”

“Do you swear?”

“Just gimme the word.”

“Which word?”

“Let’s go with ‘defenestrate’ this time.”

‘W̷̷H̷̷Y̷ ̷I̷̷S̷̷N̷'̷T̷ ̷I̷̷T̷ ̷W̷̷O̷̷R̷̷K̷̷I̷̷N̷̷G̷?! ̷W̷̷H̷̷Y̷-?’

S̷̷C̷̷R̷̷E̷̷E̷̷C̷̷H̷

‘̷C̷̷a̷̷n̷’̷t̷-’  

‘̷t̷̷r̷̷a̷̷p̷̷p̷̷e̷̷d̷’  

‘̷c̷̷a̷̷n̷’̷t̷ ̷b̷̷r̷̷e̷̷a̷̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷-’

*brief flash of a pile of burnt paper ash in Stan’s hands, which are shaking*

“We can’t stay here Fordsy, he’s closing up again.”

“Just one more second-!”

“Might as well, it’s [--- ---- ------ - ---].”

“[--- ---] going to die here. Stan[--- -------- -----], if you don’t [---- - ---- ---- --] in the next minute you will die.”

“That voice-?”

“We’re leaving now, Sixer! DEFENESTRATE!”

SNAP

(...)

“Stan? Stan calm down-! It’s okay! Remember where you are.”

“C-Can’t breathe-”

“Yes you can, just breathe with me. In- out. In- out. Just like that. There we go.”

“I’m sorry Fiddleford, I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t. ”

To be continued…

[hugsandchaos]

Ghost Boy, Where Art Thou?

Summary: After arriving in the Far Frozen, Sam and Tucker hope to become one step closer to finding Danny.

Me: Back at it again at Krispy Kream *backflips into oblivion*

Word Count: 4,912

Tucker took another sip of the hot chocolate and felt like sighing as the brown liquid quickly warmed and soothed his throat, then began heading down to his stomach. Suddenly, he was glad Danny had stashed some hot chocolate away here for “emergency purposes” only, and totally not because he knew that they wouldn’t go through the trouble of traveling the Ghost Zone and search the ghost yeti’s village just because they wanted to get into it.

Frostbite knew exactly where it was, though, and had some made for the two humans. Another ghost yeti, SpearFreeze, had gotten them both one of the extra blankets made with fur from one of the ghost monsters they hunted in the past. One of them was big and heavy enough for them both, so they huddled together and wrapped it around themselves as much as they could.

The warmth was finally seeping through their clothes, and even though Tucker’s fingers stung a little bit holding the mug with how warm it was compared to the dropping temperatures outside he was just in a while ago, he kept a grip on it knowing that the sting would go away soon.

Frostbite sat across from them in the doctor’s room they were currently in, glancing between one of the screens displaying the results of Sam’s and Tucker’s scans, and a clipboard.“Your health looks good. I don’t believe either of you have gotten sick.” He said.

“Thanks, Frostbite.” Tucker said. He recalled the times Frostbite spent an hour or two asking questions regarding human health. The next time they visited, they brought him a few books on human health to give him more information than they could.

“You’re welcome. Now, what’s this about Danny? Is he alright?” Frostbite asked.

Sam and Tucker briefly glanced at each other, then back at Frostbite.“We were kinda hoping he was with you. Two nights ago, he was supposed to meet us at Sam’s place, but he just disappeared! The next day, we figured maybe he went into the Ghost Zone and got a little lost or was visiting someone and lost track of time.” Tucker explained.

“Yeah, if he’s not here, we need to check other places once we’ve warmed up.” Sam said.

The corners of Frostbite’s mouth quickly creased downwards and his eyes went wide. He stared silently at them for a moment before speaking again.

“He is missing?” He asked in slight disbelief.

Sam and Tucker nodded.

“I will help.” Frostbite said. He stood up with a sudden determined look on his face and began heading towards the door.

“Wait, what?” Tucker asked, caught off guard by the sudden decision.

Frostbite stopped in his tracks and turned to look at them over his shoulders.“He may be the one who defeated Pariah Dark, but he is still a child. I will help.” He repeated.”I will let the others know about this. You two will wait here.” He said. Before Sam and Tucker could say much more, Frostbite was gone.

After his loud footsteps faded, Sam turned to Tucker.”You think they’ll try to use the Infi-Map?” She asked.

A hopeful smile broke across Tucker’s face.”Yeah, they’d find him in no time!” He said. Tucker had completely forgotten about the map. Now that he remembered it, he was grateful they tried the Far Frozen first.

“If he’s in the Ghost Zone.” Sam pointed out.

“And if he’s not here, where should we search first? I think Jazz already told her parents about Danny missing.” Tucker asked.

“Wait, what?” Sam raised an eyebrow in confusion and sat up straight from her previously hunched over form.”We’ve only been in here a few hours, haven’t we?” She asked.

Tucker shook his head.”No, we’ve actually been in here a while.” He said. He reached into his pocket and fished out his cellphone, which had a stopwatch that showed they were there for over a little over 24 hours.”Remember when we got tired and took turns piloting the ship while the other napped?” He asked.

Sam’s eyes widened as she realized what he meant.”Oh.” She said.

Tucker put the device back into his pocket.”Jazz called while you were napping, when we were just a few hours away from the Far Frozen. She said she informed her parents and that they were heading out to look for him themselves before calling the police.” He explained.

“So chances are the police have already been called.” Sam guessed.

Tucker shrugged.”Depends on where they’ve searched. Once we get good cell service, we’ll call them.” He said.

Above the underground hospital, carved into the side of a mountain, Frostbite stood by a large table consisting of five other ghost yetis. The walls of the room were mostly rock and ice smoothed out. The table itself was made of clean, white metal and round.

One of the other members had a patch of fur missing from the left side of her head and a missing left horn, and some of her neck fur was missing and scarred as well. Galeforce was known well for her reputation in battle, and the story of how she’d gotten burned inspired many young children into becoming warriors, and her red cloth symbolized her position as a council member.

Beside her was SpearFreeze, the youngest member of the council, and next to her was BearIce, who was sporting the same red. Frostbite watched the remaining members, CandleBreeze and TundraWood take their seats. CandleBreeze was the oldest member and often moved slower than the rest. TundraWood waited until CandleBreeze got comfortable to sit down.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” Frostbite began.”We have a problem that I believe requires our help. Incase you weren’t informed, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley were found about thirty minutes ago. After bringing them inside, they told me their arrival was thanks to Danny Phantom suddenly disappearing.” He said.

The other members all gave surprised responses to this news. Galeforce stood up and placed both hands on the table almost immediately.”What?! He’s missing?!” She exclaimed. SpearFreeze lifted a hand up and grabbed her arm to pull her back down, which Galeforce allowed and sat back down.

“Yes. They said he was supposed to meet them two nights ago and never arrived. They already searched the path he took several times and informed the Great Ons’s older sister, who has likely told their parents by now, while they come into the Ghost Zone to continue the search.” Frostbite explained.

“You want to help them search.” SpearFreeze said.

Frostbite nodded.”Yes.” He confirmed.”But I also know we can’t rush into things. We need to organize a search party first.” Frostbite said.

“And take into account the places we can travel to.” Galeforce said. She propped her elbows onto the table and held her own hands, something she sometimes did when she was debating something in her head.”And how many we can even send out…” She muttered.

Frostbite nodded. Due to living on the ground for so long, his people had forgotten how to fly and were unsure if they even could, instead relying on technology. Technology that only had so much battery life.

“Are we sure a search party is necessary? I’d never want to make the situation of a missing child seem any less severe than it is, but he’s a great fighter, is he not?” BearIce asked.

“As much as you’re correct in saying he’s a great fighter, no one has had been able to contact him in over 48 hours. I believe since our friends had come all this way, we could at least help them search here if we can’t reach other parts of the Ghost Zone.” Frostbite replied.

BearIce hummed in acknowledgment.”Then we’ll start here. Galeforce, are any of your hunters busy?” He asked.

Galeforce stood up again to leave.“A few, but not all of them. I’ll organize a team right away.” She responded.

~~~~~(Meanwhile)~~~~~

Danny truly wasn’t hungry, but as he took a bite of the meat he was given, he thought to himself that it never hurt to continue eating three meals as normal. It never caused him any issues to eat lunch when he didn’t feel hungry for it, so he’d go ahead and eat. He had to keep pretending to be completely human, anyways, and it tasted great!

Sky sat next to him and finished his food quickly, and once Danny was done as well, Sky smiled at him.”Sooo, mind telling me more about crows and ravens?” He asked.

Danny had almost forgotten about their brief conversation from earlier, but thinking back, Sky seemed very excited hearing that they could mimic human speech. He remembered the flock of crows back in Amity Park and smiled thinking about that first day he was approached by one.

“Yeah, I can tell you a few things.” He said. Sky shifted to make himself comfortable and leaned forward a little with a big grin on his face.”Like I said, they can mimic human speech. I think I actually have a video of one of them talking to me.” Danny said. He reached for his bag and unzipped it. Orbit looked up at him tiredly and Danny had to resist saying sorry as he reached inside and pulled out his phone. He closed his bag and began tapping the device.

Once he found the video, he moved his arm so he could show it to Sky and pressed play.

A crow stood on a wooden table, looking past the camera. It opened its beak and tilted its head upwards.

“Hey.” It said, mimicking a man’s voice.

“Hey.” Danny’s voice greeted back from behind the camera. His voice was loud compared to the bird.”What are you doing?” He asked. His voice gave away his joy and excitement as the crow took a step closer. He had almost laughed in the video.

The crow turned its attention to the camera and took a few steps closer and opened its beak as if to try to eat it. The camera was promptly pulled away.

Now the two could see a bit of Danny, mainly the back of his head and shoulder.

Danny lifted a finger and pointed it at the crow.”No, no eating my phone.” He said, as if he was scolding a child. The crow looked at his finger and tilted its head.

The crow simply stared at him for a while before opening its beak again.”What’s up?” It asked.

“Nothing. Just waiting on my friends. What’s up with you?” Danny responded. The crow hopped back, and a second later, it flew away. Danny turned and looked at the camera with a big smile as he brought it in front of him.”This has been happening for a while. I’m so glad I finally got in on camera, Sam’s gonna flip.” He said.

The video stopped there.

Danny turned to look at Sky and noticed something behind the both of them. He turned around to see Wild, Twilight, Legend, and Wind all staring at the video with them. Danny nearly jumped out of his seat. He hadn’t noticed them walk over, he was focused on the video and remembering the excitement he felt in that moment.

“That bird talked, right? You guys heard it too?” Twilight asked.

Wind and Wild nodded while Legend gave a surprised “Yeah”.

“Uh, yeah. There are quite a few birds that mimic speech. Crows, ravine, and several parrots. Parrots are actually well-known for having conversations with people.” Danny said.

Legend looked at Danny.“I’ve been through many adventures, and I’ve never met a single friendly crow or raven.” He said.

Danny furrowed his eyebrows. These dark feathered creatures weren’t exactly the friendliest, but they didn’t go around attacking unprovoked. They did, although, spread the news about mean or nice people, which was why he’d manage to get on the good side of an entire flock of crows.

“What did you do?” He asked.

“What do you mean? They came after me first!” Legend replied.

Wind leaned forward and Twilight adjusted his arms behind him a little. It was then that Danny realized Twilight was holding Wind on his back so he could see the screen of Danny’s phone.

“Maybe the ones in your world are the friendly ones.” Wind suggested.

Danny smirked.”Or maybe they just like me.” He said.

“Guess we’ll use you as a shield against the dark birds, then.” Legend said.

Danny snickered.

~~~~~(Short Time Skip)~~~~~

Not much else happened after lunch. The group just kept walking and walking until the sun was getting low and they stopped to set up camp. By then, Danny was fairly sore in his legs and abdomen. Not only that, but his binder was squeezing the hell out of him. His ribs have been hurting all day, and he’s been pretending not to be feeling out of breath for probably an hour.

Looking around at the others who were now starting to sit down and get comfortable, Danny realized he had an opportunity.

He picked up his bag and hurried away from the rest of the group. If anyone saw him, they didn’t ask, which he was grateful for. The sound of them talking and moving around slowly faded into the background, and when Danny turned around to find he could just barely see them, he decided this was as far as he was going to get without someone getting worried and coming to look for him.

He surveyed his surroundings. There was no one else around. No monsters, either. If he was going to get a break, now was a good time.

Danny set his bag down and began to remove the shield, sword, and armor, placing them on his bag instead of the ground. Once he finally stripped off his binder, he put the brown undershirt back on and sat down against a tree. He took a deep breath.

Ancients, it felt good not to have his ribs feel so constricted. Danny couldn’t wait to have his top surgery and finally be done with the binder. The skin above his ribs were littered with bruises, a consequence of his own actions by wearing it all day.

He looked over at his bag and reached a hand to unzip it.”You can come out if you want.” He said.

Orbit flew out of the bag quickly. They warbled and chirped happily as they flew around Danny, then the surrounding area. Danny smiled and watched as the wisp zoomed around.”Got tired of the bag? Sorry, buddy, but I still don’t know if these guys like ghosts or not.” He said. Despite being so close to them and the uncomfortable bark, Danny found himself relaxing.

The area was surprisingly peaceful. He hadn’t encountered any monsters since lunch. Still, he kept his eyes and ears open. Orbit seemed calm. Danny watched them fly into the forest and smiled a little.”Hey, stay where I can see you.” He called out in a whisper. He didn’t want to chance the others overhearing him. Danny could just barely hear the group, but he didn’t know if there was a difference in Hylian hearing and Human hearing.

He watched the area slowly grow darker and darker, waiting for Orbit to return. After what felt like half an hour, Orbit suddenly came barreling out of the forest, squeaking and chirping at Danny. It was a call to come closer.

Danny raised an eyebrow and stood up.”What is it?” He asked. He stalked closer to Orbit and looked past the wisp. He saw nothing, even as he looked closely at the foliage incase something was hiding.

Orbit warbled and flew deeper into the forest. Danny moved to follow, but stopped himself. He glanced over his shoulder. He couldn’t just walk away. The others would definitely notice his disappearance and possibly grow suspicious of him. What could he say? He’s been wary of everything, it’d seem odd if he just left.

No, he had to keep playing “cautious kid” until he either became good enough for them not to worry about him or he figured out how they’d react to him being half ghost.

Danny looked at Orbit.”No, this is far enough.” He said. Orbit turned around warbled, insisting that he should follow. It sounded important.”Is someone hurt?” He asked. Orbit shook his body side to side.”Then no.” Danny said, crossing his arms. Orbit squeaked and made a rumbling noise.

“Danny.” Time’s voice called out.

Danny’s heart nearly burst out of his chest as he whipped his head around. Time’s armor caught the remaining light and made him stand out in the dark a little bit as he walked closer to where Danny left his stuff. Danny wanted to turn around, but he stopped. He didn’t have his binder on, nor did he have a bra or even his jacket!

He felt Orbit’s tiny body press up against his midsection to try to hide and realized something even worse. What if Time saw Orbit?

“Sorry to cut your break short, but you need to put your binder and armor back on. Dinner’s ready and you’ll be sparring Legend after. After that, you’re free to head to bed.” Time said. He turned around and walked away.

Danny couldn’t help but feel a little surprised. That wasn’t what he was expecting.

He knew it was a little weird that he hadn’t been expecting them to bring up or even notice it. After all, he took the binder off when he slept, and slept close enough to the group for them to step in if a monster snuck up on him in his sleep. His jacket didn’t exactly make his upper chest invisible. They’ve technically seen him with his binder off, but still, it felt like Time knew something he shouldn’t. Then again, they probably all knew.

He stood there stunned for a little bit, watching Time walk away, before turning to look at Orbit.”Come on, we have to head back.” He said in a hushed tone.

Orbit warbled in protest, but Danny picked up his bag and held it open. Orbit’s eyes shifted and the sides of his body puffed up, as if pouting, before he reluctantly floated into the bag.“I’m sorry.” Danny said.

He turned and walked back to the group. Nothing eventful or big happened during dinner, but when sparring came around, Danny got his ass handed to him.

Legend wasn’t as kind as Twilight was that morning and went right for the attack.

Danny was almost a little overwhelmed between the dodging and blocking and fighting back, knowing that he couldn’t shift to ghost form or use his fists like he knows he could. It’d be more dangerous, but at least he had more experience that way. He kept trying to use the sword, and he was hoping he was getting a little better, but he could barely keep up.

In the end, Legend won. He also won the next two rounds, and Danny was left panting partially because of the binder.

Legend put his sword away.”Not bad for a second time. You need to work on your grip and your strikes, but other than that, you’re mediocre.” He said.

Danny almost laughed.”I’ve heard worse compliments.” He said. Legend didn’t smile.

After that, the others went to sleep and Danny was mostly left alone with Twilight being on watch. Danny used his bag as a pillow again, careful not to squish Orbit, and stared up at the stars. The only sounds were the fire, crickets, and the wind rustling the leaves. It was peaceful, and Danny had almost completely forgotten about his situation.

His gaze shifted all across the neighboring galaxy. It still left him almost breathless looking at it. It was beautiful. Looking at it felt like floating, and at the same time, like gravity was being extra strong in order to keep him against the ground. It made him feel both bigger and smaller, like he was too big for his own body. His body that he could forget he was even living in.

Stargazing made Danny’s chest both lighter and heavier, and it was one of the few things in this world that could actually chase away his racing thoughts and clear his mind, but that wonderful feeling was interrupted by the sound of something moving.

Danny quickly sat up and looked to his left. Twilight was also facing the noise. As Danny tried to listen for it again, he realized that the crickets had stopped chirping. Danny’s heart picked up in his chest. Something was nearby.

A moment later, there was the sound of movement again. It was a little farther, but still close enough to put him on edge. Twilight reached behind his back and slowly pulled out his sword.“I’ll be right back.” He whispered, not turning his head around. He rose up and stalked towards the bushes in the direction of the sound.

Once he was gone, Danny couldn’t tell if he felt more exposed or invisible. He moved his eyes away from where Twilight vanished into the forest to scan his surroundings. He searched anything he could see slowly and carefully.

Once, twice, three times.

After the fourth time, he was more confident in his surroundings, but Twilight still hadn’t come back. Danny forced himself to take a deep breath. Twilight was clearly experienced, and more familiar with this world’s flora and fauna. Besides, he had that wolf form. He’d be okay against monsters.

After the second breath, however, the secret anxious voice in the back of his head that he tried to ignore all day was proven right.

A familiar cold enveloped Danny’s body as a blue trail of fog or some kind of smoke left his mouth. For a split second, it felt as if all oxygen had left his lungs, leaving him breathless and freezing. Then the trail left his mouth completely, and just as suddenly as it came, the sensation went away.

The pit in his stomach didn’t, though.

Danny immediately stood up. He scanned the area around him again, then again.

When he picked up on Orbit’s frantic buzzing, he slowly crouched down and unzipped his backpack to let them out. The wisp refused to come out, though. Instead, they only moved to the edge and reached up with their tiny, stubby arms to grab onto Danny’s hand. They pulled on him, as if trying to pull him in, but Danny didn’t budge.

“What’s going on?” He asked in a hushed tone. He looked up to scan the area again. Then he saw it. And then he heard it.

A faint light blue, almost white light stood out against the darkness. Danny slowly pulled his hand away and stood straight. As the light swayed side to side and grew closer with the sound of jangling metal, the young Halfa realized that it was a flame inside a lantern, and carrying it was a ghost.

It had to be. Danny could just barely sense its core, but it was there. Plus, it floated through the trees as if they weren’t even there. The ghost’s hood concealed its face, aside from what looked like its bare lower jaw. Maybe it had a fire core.

There was something wrong. Really wrong.

A broken, sickly hiss escaped from its mouth. Upon hearing that hiss, the ectoplasm-blood mixture in Danny’s veins stopped.

He heard that noise before. When Frostbite was teaching him about different illnesses ghosts could have. After hearing about it, Danny hoped that he’d never have the misfortune of meeting a ghost with Poe Syndrome, but luck was hardly ever on his side.

His chest tightened up. The Poe hadn’t noticed him yet. He could grab his bag, take Orbit and his things and run. Poes were incredibly slow and often suffered sight problems, he’d outrun it in seconds. Screw the others looking for him.

He slowly crouched down, careful not to make noise, and reached for his bag. Then he paused and looked at the rest of the group. They were asleep. Twilight still wasn’t back. If he left now, they’d be defenseless.

Danny didn’t know yet if they had experience with ghosts, but he suddenly decided he wasn’t going to test it. He released his grip on the strap and grabbed the thermos, then stood up to glare at the Poe.

“Look, buddy, I’ll give you one chance to leave.” Danny said, keeping his voice down as to not disturb anyone.

The Poe snapped its head in his direction and let out a hungry growl. In a sudden burst of speed fueled by desperation, it charged towards him. Danny quickly transformed (without the pretty light show, which he’s been practicing) and lunged to the side. The Poe changed its direction and faced him, but didn’t charge again.

It looked down at his bag. It was still unzipped, with Orbit inside.

Danny flew towards it and swung his fist at its jaw before it could bend over and reach inside. The Poe flew back, almost stumbling onto Wind, but it righted itself and hissed.

“Quiet!” Danny whispered angrily.

The Poe charged towards him again with another hiss. Danny reached his arms out and grabbed the Poe, spun around, and threw it against a tree a little ways away from the group. He rushed forward and struck the Poe a second time in the chest, hard enough to make the tree shake a little, and waisted no time in hitting it again.

Poes were very weak compared to other ghosts, so the young halfa thought that after the third punch, it was safe to use the thermos. He jumped back and unhooked the thermos from his belt. He quickly lifted it up, pressed the button, and watched the Poe get sucked inside. Once it was in, he twisted it shut.

For a moment, Danny was worried that it wouldn’t work. Ghosts with Poe Syndrone had very little ectoplasm, and the thermos used ecto signatures to suck ghosts inside. In his mind, there was a chance that the Poe’s ecto signature wasn’t strong enough, but it looks like it was.

Thank the Ancients for that. Frostbite and Galeforce always said that death was the only way to deal with a ghost with Poe Syndrome, and it was actually a mercy given their state, but Danny didn’t think he could bring himself to kill someone.

He didn’t have time to celebrate, though. Something rustled in the bushes behind him and he quickly turned around. He didn’t see him, but Danny had a feeling of who it was and felt panic rise again in his chest. Twilight was coming back.

Danny quickly zoomed back to where he was sitting before and switched back to human form. He really hoped that Twilight didn’t see him transform, and was happy to see that no one seemed to have been woken up by his fight. He sat down in the same place he was sitting before, putting the thermos away, and looked up to the night sky to pretend he’d been stargazing the whole time.

When Twilight steps became closer and easier to hear, Danny turned his attention to him as if just noticing him.”You’re back already?” He asked.

Twilight put his sword away.”Yeah, just a couple wolves.” He said. He sat back down in the same spot as before and looked at Danny strangely. As if deciding if he should be worried or not.“Everything okay? You look a little shaken.” He asked.

Danny nodded.“Yeah, I’m good. I just… started wondering if I left the stove on at home and thinking my house was burned down.” He lied.

Twilight snickered.”Fair, I sometimes wonder that when I’m out here, too. I’m sure your house is okay.” He said.

“Thanks.” Danny said. He let his shoulders relax, not realizing they’d been squared up, and glanced over to his bag.”I’m heading to bed now. Goodnight, Twilight.” He said. He unzipped it and pulled out the bedroll. He moved to be a little further away from the others, but placed it close enough that Twilight or whoever else was on shift could get to him should the need arise.

Twilight didn’t comment on it and let him be. Danny fished his jacket from the bag, patting Orbot as he did, and began heading off to take his binder off.

“Wait, do you need a lantern?” Twilight piped up.

Danny lifted up the device from his jacket pocket.“I can use my phone, but thanks.” He said.

“Okay. Be careful.” Twilight said.

Danny nodded and turned on his flashlight to light his way. He was quick to remove his binder and the piece of armor, along with the over shirt, and put the jacket on and zip it up. He walked back to the camp without incident and waved to Twilight as he climbed into the blanket and bedroll.

It was nice. The fabric was soft, and it was warm in the way that it was just enough for one to feel comfortable. He reached back and pulled his backpack a little bit closer to just about rest his head on it. Then, he stared up at the stars until he could no longer keep his eyes open.

The next morning, Danny would act as normal. Well, the normal he has displayed for the group, but the truth was he didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. He stayed up all night thinking about the fact that if he wasn’t careful, he might end up with Poe Syndrome as well.

(Extra Notes: I don’t know why I struggled so much with the last few scenes, but I got through it! I did it! Honestly, I was considering just posting the rest of the chapter and do the rest later.)

[vevobly]

Dulcet | Chapter 1

Generally, you like to think of yourself as a good person.

You haven’t done anything truly unforgivable—nothing so bad that some higher power would punish you for it. Sure, you've stolen a few things and lied here and there, but nothing too terrible.

But maybe... maybe you did do something wrong, and that’s why you ended up in your current predicament.

“Yazmin.” The ginger-haired girl sitting across from you—Kate, was it? You were sure her name started with a K—waved a hand in front of your face. “Are you even paying attention?”

You blinked once, then twice, before realizing she’d been talking to you this whole time. “Uh… ”

She frowned, crossing his arms to his chest. “When your mother told me you'd been acting strange, I certainly did not expect this,” She said.

You let out a small awkward laugh. “I'm still recovering, Kat,” You told her, scratching your chin sheepishly.

She just narrowed her eyes at you. “Don't call me that,” She muttered. “Only my asshole of an older sister calls me that.”

Well, shit. That was a bad choice of words. “Sorry,” You mumbled, turning away and avoiding eye contact with her.

“Are you sure you didn't get amnesia?” Kate raised an eyebrow at you. “You've been awfully forgetful and weird since that day you suddenly collapsed on the sidewalk.”

“I'm fine,” You looked back at her, forcing a smile onto your lips. “Really. I think it's just the medication I took earlier messing with my head.”

“What kind of meds did you take?” Kate asked you.

“I dunno—I just took the meds that my mom bought for me to take,” You shrugged, playing it off casually. “I'm sorry about being extremely off today, okay? I just feel.. tired.”

Kate sighed, rubbing her temples. “Why did you meet up with me if you felt that way then?”

“Uh, to assure you I'm not dead yet?” You tried to joke. “Besides, my mom kept nagging me to let you know how I've been doing, so…”

“Okay,” Kate suddenly got up from her seat and glanced around the diner. “I’m taking you home. You’re clearly in no position to wander around, considering you still haven’t gotten better from that concussion you had a few days ago.”

“Oh, thank you!” You smiled, grabbing your backpack and following her outside to where her car was parked nearby.

.・。.・゜・。. .・。.・゜・。. .・。.・゜・。. .・。.

But maybe—just maybe—you should reconsider everything else again. Because surely only bad people end up in your position, right?

There’s no way this isn’t some kind of divine punishment from some unknown being beyond human comprehension!

There is just NO fucking way it isn't.

You gripped your hair tightly, trying desperately to make sense of your situation.

“It's a god punishing me for all the shit I've done, isn't it?” You looked up to the ceiling of your bedroom, eyes closed as you took a deep breath.

You don't know how long you stared at the ceiling and thought things over for, but it must have been for a few minutes.

Because eventually, when you turned your head to look at yourself in the mirror across from your bed, your neck ached a little.

The girl in the mirror wasn’t you.

You didn’t have long dark brown hair, hazel eyes, or freckles. And your name sure as hell wasn’t Yazmin!

You stared at her, waiting, and hoping she’d disappear. But she didn’t.

You tilted your head, and she tilted hers. You stood up, and she rose to meet you.

“Oh… my god,” you whispered, eyes widening. “This is…”

This is you.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

examining your relationship with your art can be fun

but watch out

[acquiescest]

irt the lrb what would you say if i said liam & noel spent new years 2023 together in paris

what would you say if i said liam bought the house in france (the one with noel's name carved into the walls) in march 2023 and that month noel talked about wanting to spend several months in paris

which could mean nothing