#So many things to look forward to next year

[captain-huggy-bear]

To Fight a Ten Year Old

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: In which Quinn is prepared to time travel to whoop some ten year old butt because you tell him a story from your childhood and he takes it personally.

Notes: Alas, I did in fact experience this as a child, but I can laugh about it now :) Also writing soccer instead of football actually hurt me.

Very silly + short idea to be honest but hope it brings a smile to some faces!

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

Writing Masterlist

It's a stupid little back and forth the two of you have going as you get ready for bed, silly little questions like 'tell me about your first broken bone' and 'why is your favourite animal your favourite?'. It's something Quinn and you have been doing since you first started dating. It started as a way to get to know each other better and ended up a habit, a ritual of sorts.

Each year the questions get harder to think of as your lives become more intertwined, most of your stories featuring the other, but it still raises interesting moments from your childhoods and silly little stories that explain a lot about you or him. Things you probably wouldn't find out about each other unless you asked these random questions or a family member brought it up at Thanksgiving or Christmas.

Today is no different. You're going through your night routine, taking off your make up and moisturising your skin, while Quinn brushes his teeth in the adjoining bathroom, door open so you can talk.

"Okay..." He's thinking hard, even as he talks around his toothbrush leaning his head out of the bathroom to watch you as you wipe away your eyeliner, "How about first heartbreak?" His voice is muffled around the toothbrush and almost sounds like he's underwater, despite this he never seems to want to wait until he's done.

"Like first heartbreak? Or first proper heartbreak?" You're running a cloth over the rest of your face as you ask, wiping away concealer and blush, an array of colours smearing the fabric. Your skin being revealed bit by bit.

"What's the difference?" He briefly disappears back into the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste and put his toothbrush away, but you know he's still listening as you explain.

"Well, first heartbreak is that time as a little kid that you thought you were in love and got hurt by it but it wasn't serious. You were probably over it by the next week, and first proper heartbreak is when you're older and it actually is heartbreak and you can't get over it for at least 3 months."

He hums as he comes back to lean against the doorframe, shoulders looking delicious without a shirt on, "First heartbreak, probably less depressing for a Monday night."

You take a moment, reaching for your moisturiser as you think back. There are many moments you could think of where you thought you were in love as a litte kid and had your heart broken as a result, but one stands out the most.

"Okay, um...When I was 10 years old I really liked like this boy in class called Cameron but Cameron really liked Emily, a girl 2 years older than us." You can still remember it now, the way he used to sit with her whenever he had the chance, how she clearly did not want a kid 2 years younger than her hanging around, how lovesick he was...how lovesick you were.

"Okay, so Cameron likes a cougar?" You glare over at him as you rub moisturiser into your skin, disapproving as he grins at you, straight teeth peeking out from behind his lips.

"2 years apart at the age of 10 and 12 does not make someone a cougar, Quinn!"

"I don't know, baby, seems pretty cougar-ish to me." You roll your eyes at him as he strolls closer to you, taking your comb in hand and tilting your head forward gently. He's careful as he starts to detangle your hair, careful not to pull too harshly on your scalp, much kinder than your mother used to be when you were a child. Quinn's always careful not to hurt you, apologetic if a tangle pulls too roughly.

"You're ridiculous. Anyway, where was I?" You reach for the detangler handing it back to him as he works, closing your eyes gently.

"You liked a spotty kid called Cameron." There's a hint of dislike riding his voice, even as his fingers are careful as they pull strands of your hair apart, teasing out knots.

Your eyes flash open and meet his in the vanity mirror, lips pursed at the way he insults a ten year old he's never met, "I liked a tall, cute kid called Cameron who was into soccer."

"Yeah, like I said, spotty." The dislike turns to a jealous sort of mumble, matched only by the sour look on his face that has you huffing out a laugh.

"Are you jealous of a ten year old?"

"He's not ten anymore..."

"Do I need to remind you this is a story of heartbreak?"

"Still, should've been me." His hands slide from your hair, comb having been put back on the side, and down to the base of your neck. Long fingers working at the tension there, you lean back into his fingers even as you call him out for his ridiculousness.

"We didn't even know each other! You're absurd, anyway, so I was certain Cameron was my future husband and I decided to be very brave one Valentine's day and get him a card and a gift." You lean a little to the right as Quinn hits a knot on the left side of your shoulder, you sway back into him.

"I'm proud of little you, that's gutsy." He can almost imagine it, little you bravely handing over a glittery red and pink monstrosity, little bows in your hair and chubby cheeks.

"I know, braver than I am now." You're not sure you'd have been brave enough to do something like that now, it had been Quinn after all who'd made the first move, Quinn who'd set the pace of your relationship at the start, "So I get him some chocolates, those stupid cheap heart shaped ones, and I make a stupid card covered in glitter and all sorts. I take my time and I write a heartfelt confession inside and then decided to give it to him in front of the entire class."

"No..." His voice drops, horror filling it as he looks at you through the mirror, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. You nod at him, confirming his worst fears, he knows how this is about to go down.

"Yeah, rookie move. I do it though, I hand it over and then he proceeds to not even read the card and um, rip it up in front of me and the entire class while telling me that he was going to marry Emily."

His fingers still in their massage. In fact, Quinn completely stills, his entire body rigid as he frowns at you through the mirror, there's a silence, long and heavy before he speaks.

"Where does Cameron live?"

"Quinn." You turn in your seat to look up at him, lips pursed together.

"I'm serious where does he live I'm going to go have some words with him," He crosses his arms and there's a brief moment where you're distracted by the strength and definition in his forearms before you really process that he's considering having words with a guy who broke your heart when you were ten.

"About his choices when he was ten?"

"Yeah! Who does that to someone, not only did he reject you, which is an insane decision by the way, he embarrasses my baby in front of the entire class!" Quinn reaches for your hands as he rants, pulling you to your feet, as his fingers twist and twine with yours. You'd think he's just joking but his tone is completely serious and it makes your heart warm, no matter how silly he's being. He's genuinely personally offended on your behalf about something that happened when you were a child, before you knew each other. It's sweet. Silly and absurd, but sweet.

"You can't fight a guy who broke my heart at the age of ten."

"Sure, I can or I can get Millsy to do it." He cracks a smile at that, even though he's serious about wanting words with this Cameron, he's also aware he's being absurd. He tugs you closer by the hands even as you glare up at him like a disappointed parent.

"You are not setting Miller on my childhood crush!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous! It was over a decade ago!" Even as you protest you're smiling, arms reaching up to rest over his shoulders and around the back of his neck. Fingers twisting the strands of brunet hair that rest there.

"And, he broke your heart and that's not acceptable, baby, i'm sorry, I have to defend your honour." Quinn palms rest on each of your hips, pulling you in as his fingers curl into your pajama bottoms.

"But, it was a good thing."

"How is that a good thing?"

"Because if he hadn't done that, I might have married him and been stuck in a loveless marriage and then never met you or met you but not been able to be with you." You look at him with a little smirk like you've beat him at his own game, like you've outplayed him in a game of chess.

"So you're saying that I actually should be thanking that spotty kid for breaking your heart?"

"Yes."

There's a moment of silence as he draws you ever closer, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, all soft lidded eyes and warmth. Pliant like a docile house cat.

"I'm not thanking him, I will, however, not get Millsy to fight him." It's mumbled so close to your lips that they're brushing his, an almost kiss that speaks volumes about where his mind is now.

"Good, because I'm not breaking you or Miller out of prison."

"You don't love me enough?" He doesn't even have the decency to pretend to be offended or care as his eyes are heavy, focus on your lips, not your eyes and certainly not on the ten year old he was threatening to set Miller on 5 seconds ago.

"Oh, I love you enough, but I do not have that skill set, honey."

"I don't know, think you could probably charm the officers into letting me out, baby." Quinn brushes the tip of his nose purposefully with yours and you know he's seconds from breaking and just kissing you, he has his tells, his little gestures that have consistently given him away.

"You suggesting I seduce the police now?" You pull back just enough to get his attention, to force a pout from him at the distance, his fingers scrambling at your back to pull you back in.

"...Nawwh, only me."

"You're an idiot." He pulls in you in with enough force that your chests bump with a soft smack, rubbing his cheek against yours just because he knows the stratch of his beard will get a giggle from you as you shy away from the sensation.

"I'm your idiot though."

"Mmm, my idiot." You mumble it against his lips as he finally breaks, self control being ditched in favour of the way you sigh against his mouth. He tastes like spearmint toothpaste, minty and sweet as his lips part beneath yours with a hum.

Maybe heartbreak at ten sucked, but you can't help but be thankful for it when you ended up winning the jackpot when you scored Quinn. So much better than spotty ten year old Cameron.

[slightly-knot-insane]

My Eye on You

Monstertober 2024 - day 20 + 31 [ Fear of the Dark + Creature Feature ] by @/ozzgin

[ m!psoglavs* x fem!reader ]

*The quite literal translation for 'psoglav' is 'doghead'. They are nasty creatures, scavengers that eat corpses. They are described having human bodies with a dog head, one eye, iron teeth (and possibly hooves)

content: dub-con, gangbang, knife play, p in v, bukakke, biting, oral (both) tw: dub-con, (mention of) discrimination, racial fetishization

You look behind yourself. The street is very poorly lit and the gangs of psoglavs have been an issue in this area for a while. You click your tongue in annoyance. Calling groups of protesting psoglav "gangs" is very disrespectful. They've been discriminated for many years. Only working the worst jobs and suffering constant repression. The recent case of a psoglav child being refused treatment by a racist doctor sparked protests in the city. And they also ignited the darker side of psoglavs, especially at night.

But you know how much people have been unfair toward them. You've been working as a social worker for ten years and the amount of times you had to fight, yell and scream at authorities and your co-workers to stay professional and fair is alarming. And disappointing.

This is not your usual route of going home. The train stopped outside the station since it broke down and you had to walk through this unfamiliar district or go around following a quite longer path. It's an industrial zone and it's completely abandoned this late at night. You, admittedly, didn't think about that or about the lack of street lights. Which is very foolish.

You use your phone's flash to illuminate your path, but it feels like you're in a horror video game. You push your chin deeper into your jacket and walk faster. You don't get far before hearing a familiar sound of iron hooves ringing against the pavement. A group of psoglavs are following you. Shit.

You stop and turn around and your flash illuminates their impressive teeth and whites of their glaring eyes.

"I'm sorry for walking through here," you say. "I had no idea this was your area."

"Oh don't worry, we don't mind," one of them replies. You count four almost glowing eyes surrounding you. "We can help you get through here."

You take a step back, noticing the dangerous note in his voice. "I'm f-fine."

One of them pulls out a knife. "Oh but we insist."

"Wait..." The one whose eye is shining in a deep green shade steps forward. "I know her. She's one of the social workers who helped my nephew stay with my sister. She's... really nice."

The amount of humans and psoglavs that go through your office is too high for you to remember everyone... but you actually do remember this young man. A few weeks ago, he was sitting in the hallway comforting his little nephew while his sister was nervously pacing in front of the office. An immediate thought flashed through your mind - how caring and sweet he was. Not to mention you have a bit of a... thing for psoglavs and their lanky bodies and elongated arms.

"Is she?" The one with the knife relaxes. "That's okay... But she's still a human. I just... don't like them. Not anymore."

Being surrounded with these tall psoglavs fully electrified with conflicting emotions, aggression and frustration - got you sweating. And wet.

"Well, in any case, too bad such an opportunity go to waste." The next second the knife is at your throat, tip pressing against your pulse. You are too scared to swallow. "Unzip, darling."

One of them takes your phone and illuminates you as if you're on the stage. You remove your jacket and it falls to the ground. The knife slides between your breasts as it cuts your blouse. The tip burns your skin as it lightly enters your skin.

"Not even a little yelp?" The one with the knife mocks. "You are so brave." He proceeds to rip and cut your clothes, and his sharp knife makes a few cuts here an there. Soon you're left in your undies, exposed and trembling, covered in small lacerations. Psoglavs lick their lips and growl.

The knife dances across your stomach and ends up pressed just above your clit. You gasp from anticipation. "You're wet, darling. Your panties are soaked. Such a filthy slut you are." He lifts his knife and pulls it to his mouth. The slow dragging of the blade across his moist, steaming tongue sends a throb right into your core. You're no longer sure that the cold is making you tremble.

"Cherry boy!" You're surprised by his bark. The psoglav you know unglues his eyes from you and looks at his most likely leader. "Would you like to taste a human cunt?"

The cute psoglav seems flabbergasted at first, like he didn't understand the question, but then his bright green eye flashes. In one quick jump he's behind you, pulling you backwards with his long arms. He is squeezing your tits and pushing his hand between your legs, rubbing your damp underwear against your moist lips. He is too rough with you and you jolt.

"Ah... sorry!" His voice is less deep than the leader's, less rough, almost velvety. "You are just so... gorgeous. I really want to... fuck you... I've watched so much psoglav and human porn..."

His friends giggle. The young psoglav growls and fondles you harder. His eager, impatient, raspy pants tickle your exposed neck. He is drooling down your bare back. You can only imagine the state this youngsters is in - and that excites you. Especially the hardness pressing against the small of your back. His bony long fingers pinch your nipples. "So pretty... so soft..."

"Bend her down," the leader instructs him. "She is too short for you so I will help you. It's a shame not to use that delicate mouth of hers too."

He pulls out his semi-hard cock out of his jeans just as the young psoglav pushes your back, bending you forward. "I love human asses," he growls and slaps you. "They are so fat, so soft, I just.... nggghh..."

You feel his hot breath on your ass. The first bite is unpleasant and you yelp. "Hey, easy!"

"S-sorry... I just can't control..." His sharp teeth will definitely leave bruises but you're sure he could do a lot worse if he wanted to.

"Let's keep that mouth of yours busy." The leader takes you by your shoulders and lifts you right in front of his red and swollen cock. He doesn't need to tell you anything and you slurp that thing right in your mouth. You always wondered how does psoglav cock taste like. The leader hisses through his teeth, surprised by your action. "Fuck..."

The young psoglav behind you moves your underwear to the side and the next thing you feel is the long and slimy tongue hitting your g-spot like a torpedo. You whimper and wriggle around, but strong arms hold you in place. "Keep sucking my cock you slut, and let my friends have fun with you."

"You taste so good..." Youngster is slurping and humming against your pussy, eating you out like a juicy watermelon. You knees tremble and you have to grab the leaders jeans just to stay on your feet.

"Come on, cherry boy. Get your cock out. We don't have all night."

With an annoyed grunt, the tongue retracts from your core, just as your orgasm was starting to build up. You whimper and buck your hips wanting him to continue. And fast. The two other psoglavs get their leaking cocks out and stroke them on each of your side.

"Fuck..." The nervousness almost breaks young psoglav's voice. He lifts your thigh high up to position himself, lifting you up with his other arm cupping your stomach. He misses once, twice... but the third time your soaked pussy almost sucks him in. "Oh fuck, I'm inside...." His excitement is so adorable. "I... oh fuck... oh fuck... this is so good..."

His thrusts are insecure for mere seconds before they turn impatient and vigorous, catching a delightful rhythm. Your g-spot gets rubbed by his thick cock, the pressure sending pulses of irresistible pleasure. You get slightly dizzy, two strong psoglavs holding you horizontally almost completely lifted in the air, and you just buck your hips chasing your release before it washes over you. Your scream is muffled by a cock shoved down your throat and they barely notice it from all their panting and growls.

"Great job!" the leader praises the ex-virgin. "You made her cum. You will be an excellent lover."

The young psoglav doesn't say anything, but his thrusts become erratic and irregular and, with a low growl ,he grabs your thigh and pushes himself inside your pussy as far as he can go and releases his load into a body for the first time. Probably turned even more on by his and your panting, the rest of psoglavs shoot their loads on your face and back, covering you with their thick and sticky seed.

"Well..." The leader is breathless. He suddenly releases you and you would've fell onto the ground face first if the young psoglav behind you didn't grab you by the hips and helped you up. "This was fun. Thank you for being on our side, human. We'll keep an eye on you."

The three of them push their cocks inside their jeans and walk away. The young psoglav stays a bit longer to make sure you can stand on your own. After fixing himself up, he removes his jacket and places it on your naked shoulders and runs after his friends. But you see his green eye flashing back toward you, at least one more time.

[oliversrarebooks]

you shouldn't have

tw: mind control, hypnosis, demeaning language, dehumanization

December 1986

Light, heat, and an unfairly delicious smell poured out from a restaurant's door as Phil passed by. It was Christmas Eve, and he was freezing his goddamn ass off in his worn-out sweatpants, battered coat, and leaking shoes. His empty stomach didn't help, either. The library had already closed down for the night, and most of his usual haunts where he could warm up were also closing early on account of the holiday.

Some fucking time to get his heat shut off. Merry Christmas to him.

He'd scrounged up enough money for a shitty hot dog from a convenience store, which wasn't nearly enough to quiet his growling stomach, and his hunger definitely wasn't helping him deal with the cold. At this rate he might as well go home to his cold apartment, curl up in bed under as many blankets as he could find, and hope for better luck tomorrow.

He passed another restaurant, this one a high-end affair, all done up in garlands and ribbons and twinkling lights. The people inside were sipping wine and laughing, and he couldn't help but stare in envy as some rich asshole cut into an enormous juicy steak. Phil hadn't had a steak since --

No. That was the last thing he should be thinking about. Going back was not an option.

But of course, now that the seed had been planted, his stupid brain couldn't help but poke at it again and again. A soft, warm bed. All the food he could eat. A hot shower.

And the bloodsucking asshole who'd put him under a spell and drained his blood for the better part of six years.

That vampire was the reason he couldn't hold down a proper job any more. All that time spent in a servile daze had given him permanent brain fog, not to mention an unexplainable gap on his resume, and all of his skills were woefully out of date by the time he got back to the real world. Trying to go back to being an accountant was out of the question. Instead, he struggled to hold down a minimum wage job stocking shelves at the grocery store. It was barely enough money to make rent and eat, and that was before he got fired for showing up late one too many times.

And so, here he was on Christmas, broke as fuck with no future.

The frigid wind howled through the buildings, cutting him to the bone, and Phil pulled his coat tighter and started to walk back to his apartment. He tried to put the vampire out of his mind and ignore the darkened shop windows full of things he couldn't afford. He'd fought like hell trying to free his mind of the vampire's hypnotism enough to escape. There was no way he could just give up and go back, not when he could take his life back.

And after eight months, what did he have to show for it?

Fuck. He really, really didn't want to spend Christmas in his ice-cold apartment, shivering under his covers, ignoring his stomach. More than that, he really didn't want to go searching for another low paying job he hated, spending his days doing mind numbing chores, then going home and slumping in front of the TV, only to wake up the next day and do it all over again.

Phil stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the light to change, glancing in the direction of the vampire's stupid fancy brownstone where he'd been confined for so long, only leaving when the vampire wanted to show him off at a party, or have a servant to carry his shopping, or take a convenient meal with him on vacation. The place wasn't very far away. Maybe a ten or fifteen minute walk from here.

He forced himself to look forward and cross the street. It didn't matter that the vampire spoiled him with a rich and comfortable life, he'd been a prisoner. The vampire had his mind half reduced to mush, convinced that he lived to be a servant and a bloodbag, fawning and simpering at his undead feet. Any resistance was met with another round of hypnosis to keep him docile and obedient. He'd been happy, sure, in the way a loyal and stupid dog is happy, smiling blankly when the vampire treated him as a dumb little pet. The thought of returning to that made him sick. It didn't matter how bad things his life was now, nothing could be worse than that.

At least, that's what he tried to tell himself. It was hard to believe it on nights like this, when the icy wind whipped through his threadbare clothes as if he were wearing nothing. Sometimes it was hard to convince himself that a soul-sucking job was really so much more noble than being a vampire's personal blood supply. He had a far higher standard of living when he worked for the vampire, too. It only cost his free will.

Phil found himself stopped on the street corner, trying to keep himself from doing what he was so sorely tempted to do. The filthy, melting snow was leaking into his shoes and soaking his socks, his toes turning numb. His stomach ached. His head throbbed. A woman in a hurry, carrying four big shopping bags, jostled into him, almost knocking him over.

When he regained his footing, his heavy, sore feet began to sleepwalk towards that old brownstone, as if he were in a dream.

His throat felt dry, his hands clammy. He couldn't really be doing this, just to get a hot meal and a warm roof over his head. He couldn't give up, not after working so hard to escape.

The light turned and he kept walking down the familiar streets to an all too familiar gilded cage.

This was crazy. Even if he did want to do this -- and he didn't -- he didn't even know if the vampire would want to take him back. Phil had run away, after all. The vampire might turn him away out of scorn, or worse, decide to punish him for his disobedience. While the vampire had never been overtly cruel to Phil, there was no doubt that he had cruelty in him, and Phil didn't want to be on the receiving end.

It wasn't as if he could just show up on the vampire's doorstep and be welcomed back with open arms, everything back to the way it was. Just because the vampire had generously indulged Phil's insubordinate attitude in the past, finding it amusing -- just because the vampire's only punishment was hypnotizing the resistance out of him -- just because he sometimes would lie awake at night wondering if the vampire missed him --

He stopped. He was there. Despite arguing with himself every step of the way, he arrived in front of the vampire's home, his former prison.

There was a warm glow coming from inside. The vampire was certainly home. All Phil had to do was knock, and he'd see that awful smug face again. He wanted to puke.

He had to walk away right now before he did something he regretted, probably for the rest of his life. It had taken all of his willpower and a lucky break for him to pull free of the hypnotic spell long enough to form an escape plan. There was no way the vampire would allow that oversight to happen again.

And hell, the vampire might be angry at him for escaping and subject him to some horrible punishment just for showing up. Maybe he'd even been replaced as a thrall. It had been eight months, after all.

Phil didn't want to acknowledge how the idea of being replaced made him feel.

So there were many good reasons why he absolutely should not climb those steps and knock on the door, why he should turn around now and go back to his cold, empty, messy studio apartment for the most depressing Christmas Eve ever. It was better than turning his life back over to the vampire. Wasn't it?

As Phil stood there staring at the brownstone and fighting with himself, the wind began to blow harder, the sky opened up, and freezing cold raindrops began to dot the sidewalk. He swore under his breath, already getting soaked.

Fuck it.

He climbed the stairs and knocked on the door, trying not to shiver as the rain came down harder. He could still walk away. It wasn't too late --

The door opened, and there he was, looking just the same as the night Phil had escaped -- thick dark curls, deep and inviting eyes, self-satisfied smile. The vampire was dressed in one of his thick velvet bathrobes and it looked as if he'd just stepped out of his shower. Phil hated that he knew that the vampire had changed his shampoo just by the scent of him.

"Phil," he said, eyes going wide.

"Virgil."

And there it was, that insufferable smug grin. "Well, well, well, I wasn't expecting a Christmas present."

"You don't celebrate Christmas," said Phil. Oh, this was a mistake. Virgil being happy to see him was perhaps the worst outcome of all.

"I might have to start," he said, stepping aside and beckoning Phil forward. "Come in. You surely don't want to be out in that."

Every warning bell in Phil's head went off as he stepped over the threshold of the vampire's home, leaving behind the freezing rain and entering into surroundings that were all too familiar, Virgil's taste for the expensive and avant-garde on full display. Virgil wasted no time in invading Phil's personal space, standing so close and hooking one soft finger under his chin to lift it.

Phil averted his gaze from the vampire's eyes. He may have returned here willingly, but he wasn't going to just submit to Virgil's hypnotic spell like that. He still had some dignity.

"You're soaking wet, dear," Virgil purred. "You must be absolutely freezing in those gross things. Why don't you go upstairs and get changed into something warm? Then we can have a little chat."

"A chat?" Phil asked, struggling to keep his teeth from chattering.

"Yes, dear, a chat. If not that, what did you come here for?"

Phil's face felt heated even as the rest of him was cold. "It's not like that. I just…" God, he didn't want to admit to the fucking vampire how badly his attempt at taking care of himself had failed, how he'd been fired from three jobs, how his heat had been shut off, how little food and sleep he'd had in the last few weeks. He knew that Virgil must see the failure all over him, even if he didn't say it. He was dressed in ratty clothes and sopping wet, leaving a puddle on the marble floor. "It's Christmas Eve, and I didn't know where else to go."

Virgil's grin at that statement was positively predatory, making Phil feel like a mouse under the paw of a cat.

"You don't have to look so smug about it," Phil said.

"Oh, dear, you know me better than that. Of course I do. Now why don't you run upstairs and get changed like a good boy, hm?"

Ugh, that condescension. Why the hell had he come back here? Now he was stuck in the house with Virgil who was certainly going to try and put Phil back under his sway. He'd known that, of course, but the vampire's smile was what really drove it home. He probably wasn't leaving this place of his own free will again.

So he begrudgingly climbed the stairs, not even bothering to ask Virgil where he should get changed, knowing before he'd opened the door that his bedroom would be untouched since the night he'd escaped. It was all there, just as he'd left it -- the basket of knitting with the unfinished sweater, the fancy binoculars and telescope Virgil had bought him that were so sophisticated that Phil had barely learned to use them, the overflowing bookcase, the black and white TV with the rabbit ear antenna. The only difference was that the bed had been made, and god, did it ever look inviting. The second floor of the vampire's house was even warmer than the first, almost stiflingly so, and Phil could feel the cold melting away as he stripped off his clothes and left them in a wet heap.

The wardrobe was the same, too, full of disgustingly expensive designer clothing, all picked out by the vampire. Half of it was garish shit that Phil would never normally wear that Virgil had bought so that they could match. Phil pulled a plain black t-shirt and cotton pants, the simplest and most comfortable things he could find, and put them on.

He couldn't stop himself from flopping onto the bed, trying to keep his heavy eyes from drifting shut. He knew he couldn't go to sleep here -- Virgil would certainly take advantage of that, and besides, the vampire seemed to want to chat, whatever that was going to be. But the bed was warm, and comfortable, and fitted out with the softest blankets and sheets…

He was staring up at the ceiling he'd stared at so many times before, dazed and drowsy after the vampire fed on him, the throbbing in his neck washed out by mind controlled bliss. And now, here he was again, and he'd spent so much time fighting with himself and daydreaming about food and warmth that he didn't even have an exit plan. Avoid looking into his eyes, try not to let his voice lull away his senses, ask him real nicely pretty please don't enthrall me again -- good luck with any of that.

God, he was so fucking stupid. His stomach growled at the same time a yawn was forced from his lips -- being hungry and exhausted always caused him to make idiotic decisions. Really, he should just leave. Put his own clothes back on, rush out the door, and hope Virgil couldn't be bothered to chase after him in the freezing rain. It was a long shot, but the only way he could --

"Knock knock!" said Virgil, opening the door without knocking. "I'm having Bernie make you an absolutely enormous breakfast. You're welcome."

Phil's stomach made an unholy noise. "You don't need to do that."

"Nonsense. I could hear your stomach from downstairs, you know. Now come along to the kitchen." Virgil grabbed Phil's wrists and pulled him to his feet, ushering him towards the door. "It'd be rude to waste Bernie's cooking, and I know you have better manners than that, because I trained them into you."

Phil dug in his heels. "I'm not going to be your thrall again, Virgil."

"Oh, dear, who said anything about that?" said Virgil. "I certainly didn't propose that. I think someone's desires are causing him to get ahead of himself."

"I do not desire --"

"Hush, hush, come along now."

With no better options, Phil allowed the vampire to drag him off to the kitchen, where he was slapped in the face by the mouthwatering aroma of eggs, bacon, and buttered toast. All rational thought went out the window. He hadn't eaten a meal like that in weeks.

Bernie, Virgil's former favorite thrall and current housekeeper, was standing by the stove, with a saccharine smile and daggers in her eyes. "Welcome back, Phil," she said through clenched teeth.

"Good to see you, Bernie. Thanks for breakfast," Phil mumbled, withering before her gaze. Bernie had always been jealous of him. That might make her an ally in Phil's plan to leave after breakfast, except that the only thing stronger than her jealousy was her starry-eyed devotion to Virgil. She'd only ever poisoned him once, and that was when Virgil was mad at him, and she'd relented and called an ambulance before he actually died.

Of course, Virgil was probably mad at him now…

"Eat up," she said.

Phil groaned and tucked into the food, all thoughts of potential poisoning disappearing as he ate. He really did need this.

"So," said Virgil with a terrifying gleam in his eye, "Christmas Eve and nowhere else to go, was it? I take it your little human life has been disappointing so far? Not matching up to your hopes and dreams?"

"My life is amazing. Couldn't be better." Phil stubbornly looked at his rapidly disappearing mountain of eggs and not at the vampire.

"Oh, no doubt." Virgil rested his head against his palm, shamelessly watching Phil eat. "But I couldn't help but notice how unhealthy you look." He reached out a hand, brushing Phil's cheek and directing Phil's gaze to the deep pool of his eyes. They were so dark, so captivating, so soothing, that Phil found himself swaying in a daze just from a moment's contact.

Phil shook his head, pulling out of Virgil's grasp. "You don't need to do that."

"But I want to. I know you must have missed it."

He stuffed his mouth full of eggs. "No, I didn't."

"Mmm." Virgil leaned back, appraising. "You did hurt me, you know. You betrayed me, leaving without so much as a goodbye or a note, not even trying to talk to me to work out your troubles. And after I had spoiled you, I trusted you --"

"You didn't trust me," said Phil, slamming down his fork. "You hypnotized me."

"I quieted your anxious mind. I helped you relax and enjoy life."

"You took my freedom away!"

"Ah, yes, your precious freedom, so very important. Your freedom to live your amazing life." Virgil's facade cracked, allowing his anger to leak through. "Your life that was so amazing that you were out wandering in the freezing cold rain on Christmas Eve, starving and desperate."

"Fine. You want me to admit that my life sucks? Yeah, it does. It sucks," said Phil. "And that's mostly your fault. You took six years from my life that I can't explain to anyone without looking crazy, and the spell you put on my brain makes it so I can't concentrate and can't hold down a serious job."

"I allegedly did all of those terrible things to you and yet you're here, aren't you, choosing to spend Christmas with me, the big scary vampire."

"I make poor decisions," said Phil with a huff. "We're alike in that way."

Virgil laughed. "So we are."

"So you're angry at me. I don't really care," Phil lied.

"Perhaps I am, more than I expected," said Virgil. "But I've also realized how much the entire situation was my fault. After all, I was the one who was so caught up in my own drama that I neglected your poor mind and allowed it to become unmoored. It's a mistake I don't intend to make again."

And there it was. "I said I'm not interested in becoming your thrall again."

"Oh, you did say that, and it's such a pity. I really am quite fond of you, despite everything. But I don't give up easily on what I want." He reached out and nudged Phil's face back to look into his eyes. "I think I can get you to see things my way."

"Uh…" Those eyes seemed even larger, more beautiful, more mesmerizing, and the temptation to curl up and rest in them was eroding Phil's convictions. He looked away with far more difficulty this time, standing up despite his knees shaking. "I know what you're trying to do, Virgil, and it's not going to…"

"Hush hush hush now." The vampire pressed down on his shoulders, pushing him back into the chair. "It's time to relax. Just relax and obey, dear."

"Um --" Phil had forgotten, or perhaps underestimated, or just pretended like he didn't know how strong the vampire's powers were. His mind was fogging, filled with memories of subservience, following the vampire around and doing his petty biddings like an obedient little lap dog. How humiliating. How blissful…

"That's right, just look me in the eyes, if you please, dear," he said, his words like snakes coiling around Phil. "There you are. That's a good boy. A good, obedient boy."

Mustering all of his willpower, Phil managed to push the vampire away, overturning his chair and falling to the floor. He'd made such a huge mistake coming here. He was going to be a thrall again, charmed into mindlessness by Virgil, docile and fawning…

"Ah-ah-ah, none of that," said Virgil calmly, picking up the chair with one hand and pulling Phil back onto it with the other. "There will be no resisting, dear. No fighting your better. Just relaxing. Relax and obey."

Once more, Phil found his gaze tethered to the vampire's eyes. "I -- I won't --"

"You will," the vampire insisted, stroking Phil's cheek and running his hand through his hair. "You're such a good boy, so obedient, I know you are. You don't want to fight me. You want to know your place. You want to sink into bliss."

"I…" He tried to struggle, but his limbs felt like jelly, barely attached to his body. His jaw dropped as his eyelids drooped, losing himself in a daze, swaying along as the vampire played with his hair.

"Now tell me the truth, dear. You did miss me, didn't you?"

"I… missed you…"

"And you missed having my firm hold guiding your poor, anxious mind, didn't you?"

"Uh…" One small struggle, and then it was over. "Uh-huh…"

"That's right, dear. You don't want to have to worry about jobs and bills any more, do you?"

That was an easy one. "No…"

"That's right, it's all too much for your tired little brain. Won't it be so nice to have me take care of everything?"

"Yeah…"

"Good boy. Of course it will. Now it's time for you to relax. I'm hungry too, you know, and my hospitality isn't free."

Phil slumped in his chair, offering no resistance as Virgil tilted his head to the side and brushed cold fingers against his neck. The sensation was familiar, almost comforting. He knew his place.

"What a wonderful Christmas present," said Virgil, his cold breath on Phil's neck, breathing deep of his scent. "You shouldn't have. You really, really shouldn't have."

Rare Bookseller Side Stories Masterlist

Thanks for reading my self-indulgent vampire stories, and happy holidays!

[jenosbliss]

The One With a Special Apron ❄️🎄

pairing. gn!reader x jaemin | genre. fluff | wc. 616 | warnings. none

You had lost count of how many times you’d walked from the bedroom to the kitchen, hoping Jaemin would finally give up his takeover of your favorite Christmas tradition. Baking cookies had always been your thing, the one holiday tradition you boasted about to everyone. But this year, Jaemin decided it was his turn, leaving you feeling both annoyed and intrigued.

The whole fiasco had started earlier in the day when you walked into the kitchen, finding Jaemin cracking eggs into a bowl, his sleeves rolled up and a determined look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you asked, already suspicious.

“Baking cookies,” he replied casually, like this was a perfectly normal thing for him to do.

“Why are you baking? That’s my job!” you protested, marching over to grab the mixing bowl from his hands.

Jaemin just laughed, holding the bowl out of your reach. “Not this year. This year, it’s my turn. Now, back to the bedroom with you—go on!”

Before you could argue further, he gently pushed you out of the kitchen and closed the door behind you.

Huffing, you retreated to the bedroom, flopping onto the bed and pulling the blankets over your head. You couldn’t believe he was taking over your Christmas cookies.

Later, curiosity got the better of you, and you made your way back to the kitchen. Sitting on a stool across the counter, you leaned forward and asked, “Are you done yet?”

Jaemin didn’t even look up. “Just three more seconds… and done!”

As the microwave timer beeped, a sweet, heavenly aroma of vanilla and chocolate filled the room. Your mouth watered as he slipped on oven mitts and pulled out the tray of freshly baked cookies, each one perfectly golden and tempting.

He plated the cookies carefully, placing them right in front of you. Unable to resist, you reached for your favorite chocolate cookie, but before you could grab it, Jaemin swatted your hand away.

“Excuse me?” you said, glaring at him. “What now?”

Instead of answering, he stepped back, his grin growing mischievous. Spreading his arms wide, he gestured to the bold red apron he was wearing. In big white letters, it read: Kiss the Cook.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Seriously?”

“Rules are rules,” he teased, holding the plate of cookies just out of your reach. “No kiss, no cookies.”

Determined to win, you stood and tried to snatch the plate from him, jumping as high as you could. But Jaemin was taller—and apparently enjoying this way too much.

“Fine!” you finally huffed, giving up. Grabbing him by the apron, you pulled him down and planted a kiss on his lips.

What started as a quick peck turned into something deeper as his arms slid around your waist, holding you close. His lips were soft, warm, and utterly distracting, making you momentarily forget all about the cookies.

When he finally pulled back, he grinned down at you. “There. Was that so hard?”

“Can I eat my cookies now?” you asked, a little breathless but still stubborn.

Chuckling, Jaemin handed you the cookie you’d been eyeing. “Go ahead. You’ve earned it.”

Taking a bite, you let out a satisfied moan. “Okay, these are really good,” you admitted, though it pained you to give him the win.

Jaemin leaned against the counter, looking way too proud of himself. “Told you I could do it.”

You shot him a mock glare. “Next year, I’m getting you an apron that says Kick the Cook.”

He laughed, stealing a bite of your cookie. “I’d still look good in it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. Jaemin always had a way of making everything—cookies included—a little sweeter.

tags:: divider created by @cafekitsune 🫶🏻

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

navigation.

[little-worm-grant]

Night Terrors

Moonboys x You (Reader) 574 words / 18+ only, no minors

Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Marc isn't the only one to suffer the occasional bad night, they all do. Here are some ramblings of how each of the alters handles night terrors with you around. This will contain descriptions but nothing graphic.

A/N: A lil cathartic trauma writing after a bad night. I have CPTSD that's not too different to Marc's experience with his mom growing up. No matter how many years of therapy I've done to find my baseline normal, I still get night terrors every month. This is a damn sure better than what it used to be, but still annoying. It's one of those things I will never have control over and just have to deal with it. Thought I'd use my experiences to write how I imagine it'd go for the moonboys. Regardless of the things I write, I'm genuinely in a good place in my life. Healing is not linear. The worst experience to ever happen to me was my childhood and I've gone forward in life with my head up knowing nothing will ever be that bad again. Look after yourself first, no one can do it as good as you can.

Steven wakes up sometimes in a panicked wheeze, flapping his arms as though to get a spider off his pillow (it's just the shadow indent of where his head was that his brain hasn't quite registered), or just straight up flying out of bed in a scramble to get away from the perceived threat. You've learned he needs a lot of physical contact to come around and be eased back into bed. He never remembers these nights or what he's dreaming about. Laughs and calls himself a "right plonker" when you explain it the next day. He'll comfortably make jokes about his evening escapades. He panics when he's conscious, it doesn't surprise him one bit he also does it in his sleep too. No wonder he's always so tired. Steven deeply appreciates knowing you're there for him when he needs it. He'll pamper you and try making your day a little easier to make up for it. Scratch each other's backs and all that. -

Marc shouldn't be touched when he gets like this. Always a small chance it'll freak him out more. He's never hurt you, more like he doesn't recognize you and tries to keep you at an arm's distance to keep himself safe. You've never seen him so tense. Sat upright, shaken breath. Eyes wildly scanning the dark of the room, convinced he's seen something in the shapes he can make out. As though it's both your lives on the line if he's distracted from it. He doesn't look angry, it's not like that stern expression he usually carries... but more like he's seen a ghost. He's terrified of whatever may come out of the dark. It breaks your heart. You talk him through his logical fallacies until he's convinced enough to settle back down. Sometimes it requires a light being turned on for him to snap out of it. Come the next day, he'll brush off your follow-up questions of it. Embarrassed you saw that side of him. Marc won't often remember getting up in the night, but he certainly remembers what he dreamt about. He won't willingly discuss that in any detail. He thinks you'll look at him differently if he does. The day naps wrapped around you make everything better. -

Jake you've only seen out once in this state. The broom you'd moved out the way before bed came tumbling down in a loud clatter, and he was up in a blink of an eye. No staggered breathing or wild eyes like Marc. None of Steven's exaggerated or fast movements. Stiff as a statue he's up and staring off into the empty void of the room. It was more unnerving than the other two. You try talking to him but he doesn't acknowledge you. A tentative touch snaps his eyes to yours. After a moment, he seems to soften and come back to himself. Some mumbled strung-together Spanish you aren't convinced was meant to be coherent. He chuckles and drops back down into the sheets. Reaching out to pull you in closer. Soundly snoring a moment later. You're left perplexed and blinking. Questioning who the hell that was. Jake tends to have a very vague recollection of coming to and trying to tiredly explain his reasoning. He doesn't remember if he was dreaming. "But there's no danger, so there's no problem. Go back to sleep," he'd tell you, thinking you understood him perfectly. He can sleep better for it.

[starlightinitiative]

Starlight Initiative 2024 Wrap Up

Good evening, everyone!

Thank you, first and foremost, to the volunteers of the Starlight Initiative. Without them, this would not be what it is. I'm so happy to have many of them still active and wanting to fulfill many wishes. I am happy to have our new volunteers, who have added that much more to our group in fulfilling wishes and making this year's Starlight Initiative even better!

We would not have been able to raffle off some of the prizes we had without them. Whether they turned out their own pockets for the sake of the Initiative, donated what they were already hanging onto, or even just helped with farming certain things, it has all been appreciated.

To those of you waiting for the Creatives Raffle, winners will be announced tomorrow (on our Discord) when I am awake. Unlike the bot raffles, these ones are more closely moderated to ensure that I can get people paired to the creatives that can best fulfill what they are hoping for should they win.

It is my sincerest wish that next year, we may be able to go out of our way to fulfill all kinds of wishes; that we can lift the gil cap we've enforced to keep our collective savings from running dry too quickly. I hope next year, we can give you all what you wish for far more reliably than we sometimes are able to.

Thank you everyone who came by and made it possible for this event to persist. Last year, we fulfilled a total of forty-three wishes. This year, we fulfilled a total of fifty-five! While it may not seem like a giant leap, that's still fifty-five people that got something that made their season that much brighter. I'm glad we could do that for you.

Please look forward to any events we do in the future, and please look forward to the Starlight Initiative's Weekend of Gift Giving 2025!

-Admin Prim

[vikkirosko]

⚾️ Scout x Reader Oneshot Welcome back 🍗

Scout returned home in high spirits. There were many reasons for this. He would finally finish his job, he would see his family again, and he would see you again. And now you were sitting on the roof of the house where your apartments were, and just looking at the night sky, which was so very different from the one he was used to seeing over the years.

You've known each other for a long time. When you were both younger, you spent a lot of time together, running around the city, finding things to do. You watched him play baseball, Jeremy tried to teach you how to play a few times, and then you laughed together when you couldn't do it. He considered you his best friend, and for a long time he was sure of it.

When he started working as a mercenary, as soon as he had the opportunity, he got to the phone with Sniper and called you. You could talk for hours about nothing, and only when Sniper reminded him that it was time for them to leave, he was forced to interrupt your conversation. He told his colleagues about you, and the more they heard about you, the more they realized that Jeremy's feelings for you were different from friendly ones. Now he understood it himself.

Looking at you lying on the cold concrete next to him, he realized that he was really in love with you. He understood that he was in love with your smile, your laugh, the way you sang along to your favorite songs from the radio, how you took care of him when he was injured or ill. He loved everything about you, but it took him a long time to realize his own feelings, which now seemed so obvious that it began to seem ridiculous to him that it took him so long.

When you heard him laugh, you turned to him and smiled a little.

"Did you remember the joke? Will you tell me?"

Scout turned to you and smiled wider.

"I love you"

You looked at him in surprise, as if waiting for the moment when he would laugh and say that it was just a joke or say that he loves you as a friend, but when that moment did not come, a blush appeared on your cheeks.

"You're not joking?.."

"Nah, I'm being completely serious."

He smiled wider, feeling a blush appear on his cheeks. His heart was beating faster than usual. He was glad that he finally told you how he felt. However, his face showed surprise when you leaned forward a little and lightly kissed him on the lips. That kiss only lasted a couple of seconds, after which you pulled away, smiling at him sheepishly.

"I'm glad… I'm really happy about it…"

Jeremy leaned forward and hugged him tightly. When he felt your hands on his back, his smile widened.

"So we're together now?"

"It turns out that yes"

"That's cool! I am sure we will be happy together! We will live in a cozy house, visit our families, especially since my mother already knows you and for her you are already part of the family!"

You smiled softly as you listened to him talking quickly and enthusiastically about your future together.

"And the children! A few kids!"

You laughed softly, stroking his back.

"That sounds great…"

Silence fell between you again. Jeremy was happy that you two had such a wonderful future ahead of you.

"Hey, Jeremy…"

"Hmm?"

You kissed the tip of his nose and smiled.

"Welcome back"

Scout felt happy. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly happy. He felt like he was exactly where he should have been a long time ago.

[kikyoupdates]

Goddess Wink ⭑˚💘⭑ 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡

bnha x f!reader

reverse harem, my hero academia x fem!reader, slowburn

Ever since your Quirk first manifested, you’ve been the apple of everyone’s eye. With the goal of becoming a hero, you enroll to U.A. and soon find yourself drawing the attention of many. Will you form genuine connections with others, or is this all just your power's will?

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“Special recommendation?”

“Yes,” Mikael nodded. “Based on the information I’ve been able to gather, U.A’s entrance exam consists of fighting large robots and gathering points that will go forward to determine whether or not you earn a passing grade. There is also a written component, which I have no doubt you’ll do well on, but it’s not enough to pass. Your Quirk has no effect on anything besides living people, which unfortunately means their system places you at a disadvantage. Luckily, I happen to have some connections and it’s possible to enroll you in U.A without you taking the exam.”

“But… isn’t that like cheating?”

“It isn’t cheating. They wouldn’t be able to evaluate your powers properly, which is why I’m making sure you get into the school and have a chance to prove yourself.”

“Well… if you say so. I guess it’s true that I can’t do much with my powers unless it’s against an actual person.”

He smiled and patted your hair. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it all sorted out. They’ll be receiving your letter of recommendation soon enough, which leaves us time to focus on other matters. I’ve actually got some business in Greece around the time your classes start up, but you should only be missing a few days.”

“What?” you groaned. “I’m coming with you again?”

“Of course. Each visit gives you the opportunity to strengthen your connection to your ancestry. Even if you may not realize it yourself, it helps your powers grow more stable, and deepens your spiritual bond to Aphrodite.”

“Huh… I’m still not all that convinced.”

“Well,” he smiled, “you’ll just have to wait and see.”

It had been just about ten years since Mikael had become your legal guardian. As he’d promised, you’d gained more and more control over your powers, and they were noticeably stronger when activated. A big part of his training regimen was bringing you along on his trips—not just to Greece, but to see the world. He always said that heroes needed to see the big picture, the larger scope of things, and in order to realize just how vast their horizons were, travelling around the world and learning about other people and cultures was essential. As a result, you were almost certain that out of all your future classmates you’d ventured the most outside of Japan.

At first, you’d been opposed to going on your most recent trip to Greece. You did enjoy sightseeing there, and the weather was always beautiful, but you’d been reluctant to miss your first bunch of classes. But after hearing about the villain invasion that had taken place at USJ, you were actually somewhat relieved that you’d gotten to miss out.

“I hope my classmates are nice,” you mumbled to yourself. Tomorrow would mark your very first day at your new school, and you wanted to make a good impression. You’d gone out shopping with the intention of buying some new school supplies, but you’d gotten a little carried away and picked out some new outfits too. Which was frankly quite pointless, since you’d be wearing your uniform the whole time, but oh well.

You were just walking home with your heaps of shopping bags in tow when someone bumped into you, and rather forcefully, at that.

“Oops, sorry,” the boy apologized, offering a sheepish smile. “I guess I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s fine,” you brushed off. “No harm done.”

He continued smiling and standing around, blocking your way. “It must be my lucky day, getting to run into such a beautiful girl. Where are you heading? I can help carry those bags for you.”

So it’s going to be one of these days, I see.

“Thank you, but I’m alright,” you politely declined. “They aren’t heavy or anything, and I’m in a bit of a hurry to get home.”

“Aw, but I feel bad now that I’ve run into you. If you’re just walking, you must live around the area, right? I can escort you there.” He was still smiling, and he ran his fingers along your shoulder, trying to coax you into giving in. You almost laughed at the stupid little display. It was funny how shameless people could be. What kind of person would let a random stranger walk them home?

“I said it’s fine,” you smiled, pink hues filling your irises. “Be a good boy and leave me alone now, okay?”

“Ah—” He stiffened all at once, fingers slipping off your shoulder. His vision had gone glassy, eyes glazed over, and his cheeks were distinctly flushed. “Oh… my bad,” he slurred. “I didn’t m-mean to—”

His knees buckled underneath him, and he passed out right onto the floor. You looked down at him with your lips pursed.

“It was a lot stronger than I was going for. Well, he must’ve been attracted to me a fair deal if he was trying so hard.” You stooped down to a crouch and whispered into his ear. “When you come to, head home and get a good rest in bed. Don’t try to harass any other girls on your way.”

You adjusted the bags in your grip and continued walking on, ignoring the cluster of people that were now swarming around the unconscious boy. Freja greeted you in the lobby once you were home, helping take the bags off your hands.

She smiled. “It seems like you bought quite a lot, [Name]. Wasn’t this just supposed to be for school supplies?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled awkwardly. “I saw a bunch of cute clothes and just got carried away…”

“I’m sure they’ll all look lovely on you. Mikael is waiting in your room. I believe he wanted to have a quick chat with you since you’re starting at U.A tomorrow.”

“Okay. Thanks, Freja.”

“My pleasure.”

As promised, Mikael was waiting in your room, eating chocolate on your bed, of all things. You puffed out your cheeks and let out a squeal of protest.

“Hey!” you cried out. “No eating chocolate or messy desserts on the bed! I just replaced those sheets!”

He blinked innocently, even though he had melted chocolate all over his lips and fingers. You sighed and grabbed a handful of napkins before taking a seat beside him.

“Hello, [Name],” he smiled. “How was your shopping trip?”

You dabbed at the corners of his lips with the napkins. “It was fine. Some guy was hitting on me while I was heading back, and I used my Quirk on him. He passed out even though I wasn’t trying to get him to.”

“Did he come into contact with you?”

“Yeah. Well, he touched me, but I didn’t touch him back. I just used my voice.”

“I see.” He waited for you to finish wiping him off before twirling a lock of your hair through his fingers. “Different people are bound to experience different levels of attraction and thus react differently to your powers. It’s always going to be challenging to figure out just how effective your Quirk is against certain people.” He extended the half-eaten chocolate bar towards you. “Want a bite?”

“No thank you. Actually, please put that away. You’re making a mess.”

Seemingly defying human limits, he managed to fit the rest of the chocolate bar into his mouth. “I’ll be putfing togesher a nishe dinnar tonifte. To shelebrate yhu starting skhool.”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Mikael swallowed the rest with a big gulp, licking the remnants off his lips. “You must be excited. Many of the most renowned heroes made their start at U.A. And with a Quirk like yours, there’s no limit to the amount of people you’ll be able to save.”

You looked up at him in earnest. “You really think so?”

“Of course. You have the gods—quite literally—on your side.”

You laughed a little at that. Still, you couldn’t deny how excited you were. You’d trained your Quirk all these years in preparation for this. Maybe it was that spiritual sense that Mikael claimed you were developing, but something told you the group of people you’d meet there would forever change your future.

“Are you all ready, transfer student?”

“Yes. I’m fine, but… are you sure you’re okay? Your entire face is wrapped in bandages…”

You were officially on U.A's campus, and who else to greet you but the homeroom teacher in charge of Class 1-A—Aizawa Shouta. Or, more commonly known as Eraserhead. He wasn’t the first pro hero that came to mind, since he was so elusive and underground, but you’d definitely heard of him every now and then. A hero with the ability to erase Quirks. Put that way, it was highly unlikely your powers would affect him… guess you couldn’t charm your way out of trouble, then.

“It’s not something you need to worry about,” Aizawa deadpanned. No doubt he’d gotten those injuries during the USJ invasion that had just happened, but to think that he was still teaching under those conditions was crazy. “I’ll enter first and quickly announce to the class that we’ve got a new student, and you follow after. Okay?”

“Sounds good.”

With that, he opened the door to the classroom and strode in, completely ignoring the concerned and bewildered cries of his students. He waited for them to quiet down before making his announcement. The class went silent, and you took that as your cue to walk in.

I’m a little nervous, but here goes!

You stopped in front of the class, swiveling on your heel to face everyone. “I’m [Last Name] [Name],” you greeted with a smile. “For various reasons, I wasn’t able to make it for the first days of classes, but it’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

The room was still silent. Everyone’s eyes were glued to you, but no one was saying a word. You’d been standing there for a good while now, and you were starting to feel a little apprehensive. Had you said something wrong? Was there something on your face, or—

“Whoa! What a beauty!” a blonde male with a lightning bolt in his hair exclaimed.

“She’s so pretty!” a pink-haired girl gushed. “Oh my god, oh my god! She looks like a model!”

“That’s crazy! I had no idea we’d be getting another classmate!”

“[Name]-chan, right? I’m Uraraka!”

“Call me Tsuyu.”

“Hey, hey—what kind of music do you like? Pop? Rock? Punk?”

It had only taken seconds for the entire class to turn to uproar. You chuckled inwardly, unable to keep track of the ridiculous amount of questions being thrown your way. Even though you’d gotten a late start, everyone seemed really nice, so you were relieved.

Aizawa let out a weary groan. You couldn’t make out his expression behind all those bandages, but you had a feeling he was scowling. “Everyone’s being too loud. [Name], there’s an empty seat over there next to Bakugou. That’ll be your desk.”

You smiled, making your way over with a spring in your step. Everywhere you looked, friendly faces were smiling at you. Some were boisterous and loud—like the pink-haired girl and the other guy—while others were more subtle with their excitement—like the freckled boy seated behind you who kept blushing and averting eye contact, all the while trying to maintain a wobbly smile. And then there was the ash blonde beside you. Aizawa said his name was Bakugou or something. He was the only one out of the whole class who was outright glaring at you, for whatever reason. You couldn’t recall the last time someone had looked at you with such distaste, so drastically in contrast to desire.

You smiled coyly, leaning over in your seat to whisper to him. “It’s nice to meet you,” you said, eyes glowing the faintest shade of pink. The anger left his expression for just a moment, and his crimson eyes widened in surprise as a blush settled across his cheeks. You canceled your Quirk immediately after, and he stared at you in confusion before scowling and snapping his head away.

Oops. Maybe I shouldn’t have teased him like that.

You placed your hands on your lap and leaned back in your chair. You could already tell you were really going to like this class.

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[danishphoner]

The Last Shadow Puppets: ‘We've become aware of our vocal harmony, it's a magical thing’ | La Vanguardia | June 2016

Eight years after their first album, the British band present their second album at Primavera Sound 2016

The Last Shadow Puppets have visited Barcelona these days to perform at Primavera Sound 2016, in what has become the band's first performance in Spain. Alex Turner (Arctic Monkeys) and Miles Kane presented their recent album ‘Everything You've Come To Expect’, an album whose cover is dedicated to the singer Tina Turner, featuring a photograph taken in 1969 in New York by Jack Robinson.

The new album, recorded in 2015 in a Californian studio, arrives eight years after the release of their first album, ‘The Age Of Understatement’, and with Turner and Kane's desire to work together once again.

To warm up the engines, at the beginning of 2016, The Last Shadow Puppets released their new album's first single, ‘Bad Habits’, a song full of soul music and with traces of retro rock that has preceded the official release of the eleven singles that make up the British band's new album. 'Everything You've Come To Expect' has reached the number one position in the UK and Belgium, and the 83rd position on the American chart Billboard.

Alex Turner and Miles Kane meet us a few hours before their performance at Primavera Sound, in Barcelona.

Written by David Palacios June 4, 2016

Translation below

Is this your first time in Barcelona?

No, we've been here before on vacations. We like the city.

Your latest album, ‘Everything You've Come To Expect’, was released on 1 April and has hit the top of the charts. How do you feel about it?

We're delighted to have had so much success. On the other hand, we're not too used to it, because it's only our second album. We're really enjoying our most recent work, and all the concerts we've played so far have been great.

It's been eight years between your first and second album...

Yes, we both have been working on other projects in the meantime, but a chance to work together again came up. It was too valuable an opportunity to let it pass, and we've always been interested in working together.

And are you pleased with it?

Yes, very much so. We're very happy to share a project together. We've become aware of our vocal harmony, and it's a magical thing when we sing together. It is like we're brothers.

How was the recording of the latest album?

First, we recorded songs like ‘Used To Be My Girl’, ‘Bad Habits’ or ‘Aviation’, which is the first single of our new album, and every time we recorded new singles, we were excited about it.

Has it been a gift to your fans after so many years?

I don't think our album is a gift to them, it would be a bit arrogant if we went to each one of them to thank them. People already saw that, on the first album, there was a connection between the two of us, and they fell in love with our music. We knew that the first album was some kind of appetizer for what was coming next.

How is the promotion of the album going?

We're doing a lot more gigs with this album than we did with the first one. I believe that with the first album, for example, we didn't get to visit Spain. At the moment, we've done two shows in the US, and we're going to play at some festivals as well. We're really looking forward to it.

Your first album was heavily inspired by the music style of the 60s. Is the latest one as well, or has there been an evolution?

The first album consisted of music inspired by the 60s because all the reference materials we listened to had that musical influence. Despite that, eight years later, there are still some influences from those years in our songs.

What adjective best describes The Last Shadow Puppets?

‘Explosive’ (laughs). We're like the rock when it erupts from a volcano.

[jimmyjeans]

THIS TOOK WAYYY TOO LONG! Several ideas kept floating in my head of various Video Games x Splatoon crossovers and I decided to draw one that I thought would be fun. :]

I had, unfortunately, failed to consider how long this would take! I love Guilty Gear but dear God are their designs so dang complex to draw.

[tgtbata]

my year in art, including two pieces from @semifinaldraw. thank you guys for being here and talking to me and looking at my art. it's a joy every day <3

[aliferousdreamer]

so i've been rewatching season 4 of the next step for the first time in years and hoooo boy do i have a lot to say t

[hadesoftheladies]

hate going for christian weddings sometimes because i always see the prettiest women with the ugliest men, the sermon is always some shit about wives being slaves (but not like bad slavery, mutual slavery except the husband is a benevolent master which makes it okay) and making babies for their husband, the music is always lame, the mc is always weird and obnoxious, and older women keep fucking asking me when it's gonna be my turn and never take no for an answer.

[eraiyang]

art vs artist 2023 with almost all zhonglis .. ehehe .. surrounded by my baby girl .. and his clown <3

[kuromi-hoemie]

i am once again thinking about The Boy

not the movie lol

[sskk-manifesto]

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡