#and probably the next one is an impersonator too

[jaejoongs-nipple-piercing]

I was waiting for this person who followed me on TikTok claiming to be Henry Lau to slip up, and he did. There’s still the questionable passport photo, but I asked if there was anything only Henry would know or any kind of company secret. He sent me these (the second one is literally a stock photo).

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[straykats]

actually while im exhausted im gonna rant 🤩

[semischarmed]

River

River was a walking enigma. 

Instagram, TikTok, Facebook- hell, I even tried looking for a yearbook. Nothing. I had nothing on the guy. Like an illusion, he merely appeared, did his work diligently and then promptly vanished. In fact, his most common phrase around the office was a “Sorry, I can’t- busy.” His distance seemed to put some people off. That only made me want him more.

When Chelsea threw a quitting party, he dropped in, chatted for a few minutes and then left without saying goodbye- except to Chelsea. He wasn’t rude by any means. I’ve only ever seen the guy be polite. I personally found it quite hot. His mysteriousness brought an allure about him.

During another quitting party- a dinner for Mark this time, I tried to make conversation, asking him why he was named River. I actually asked the question in a few roundabout ways. Most I ever got was a “just what my parents named me- they thought I’d have brown hair”. I tried to pry for his hobbies, asked what he did for fun and he only responded with a “I watch baseball, go to the gym, watch TV. I guess”, before asking me about mine. The conversation was cordial, and probably a little boring, but I was captivated. This had been the closest I ever sat next to him. 

My breathing quickened, ever so slightly, as I watched his shirt struggle to contain the form within. I traced the vascularity in his hands, the craftsmanship in the sculpt of his neck, the fabric of his shirt stretching taut when he would reach to grab a napkin. There was a full plate of food in front of me but I was only salivating at one thing.

The conditions were not ideal- but what choice did I have? The guy was like a ghost. I laughed a bit at the irony. I sat right across, trying to filter the scents and the sounds of food and camaraderie to focus on him. This would take all my brain power. I steadied my breathing and sharpened my focus, as I continued to answer and ask mundane questions about some work projects we both had. I started my work, mimicking every microexpression, every slight movement. I tailored every word from my mouth- even my delivery to slowly match his. This had to be subtle, of course- I’ve found out the hard way in the past how creepy this process could look in public if done too quickly. 

River’s eyes blinked slower, like a haze was forming in his mind. I followed suit, weaving my slight impersonation in and out of our conversation. Like a pulse, I felt our movements begin to sync. Almost there. Now came the tough part, slowly drawing him out and isolating him without lo-

“C’mon, let’s all get shots- uh… River you ok bro?” Mark asked.

He shook off his daze, surprised at himself before laughing off the weirdness. 

I was pissed the rest of the night, forcing myself to hide the permanent glare I would have worn for Mark. 

As the night drew on, River left early- of course, and I continued on, staying a bit longer to wish Mark well in one final toast for the night. 

That would be the last time in a while I’d be so close to him. The following drought was unbearable. For the next few months, no one quit. No big holidays were coming up, and our office wasn’t much for parties. Instead, I had to satiate myself with glances and the occasional short conversation.

= = = = 

“Does that work for you two?” My boss asked. I nodded readily, eyeing River’s response. Another nod.

Fuck. I practically jumped when the boss said those words. A presentation. A presentation with River. A chance.

I think I deserved an Oscar for my acting in the few weeks after we were both tasked with the presentation. A wrong font here, corrupted save there, a missed chart. I “worked” tirelessly on the presentation with River, making sure to leave enough mistakes and gaps to drag the process out. 

The guy was too polite, and I knew I had to use that against him. I ran the clock, watching the days progress into weeks and his brow furrow as stress deepened. Of course, I had to play my part, acting innocent at every step. A quick “sorry” for every mistake I planted was enough to ease suspicion. I even faked a confession about roommate drama causing my decline in performance. I thanked how private he was in that moment- I lived alone. Ever the hero, River was quick to take on the responsibility- even covering for me on few occasions. I knew I had to get inside this man.

Then came the day before the big presentation.

“I- uh… okay. Maybe we can finish this at my apartment,” He stated, clearly uncomfortable. I held back a moan.

= = = =

“You can set your stuff down there”.

It was a bit boring compared to what I expected. He was definitely put together at work, so it was a bit surprising to see some mess littering his apartment. 

A few posters dotted the walls. Some basketball guy, I guess. An action movie. A generic college banner. His furniture boxy and grey, and the carpets running through the floors were in need of cleaning. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his kitchen was pristine, practically sparkling, aside from a small collection of protein powders and supplements. 

“Uh.. sorry I don’t really have any snacks.”

He sheepishly opened the near-empty fridge and offered me a choice in drink. Some kind of pre-workout beverage and water. I took the water. 

“Okay, I need to head to the gym for a bit. You still have a few slides you wanted to add, right?” A Hoodie-wearing, duffel-toting River asked. I nodded, trying not to look too eager and straining to keep my eyes from staring at his well-defined legs. 

And then, there I was. Alone in River’s apartment. Alone with River’s apartment. I ran to his dirty laundry pile. 

“Mmmphhhh” My eyes rolled back as I took the deepest inhale of my life. These were River’s boxer briefs. The same ones he had just worn. Doused in the scent of a day’s work. It was damp- guess River was a sweaty guy, though the long walk and couple flights of stairs to get to his apartment may have also been culprit. I was paralyzed in bliss, as I took in every note of his natural musk. 

It reverberated deep in my chest as I continued to circulate every ounce of River I could inside me. The underwear was practically glued to my nose and mouth before I finally relented and drew them away, gasping for air. Exquisite. 

My dick jumped at the sight of a single strand of his pubic hair, like flickering flame. A perverse smile planted itself on my face as I gingerly pulled my clothes off. I shivered as the cold, damp fabric that had just touched his bare flesh was now touching mine. I felt his hair on my flesh, now caked in his sweat. The elastic snapped around my waist as I released, a bit tight. My breaths fell shallow, ragged as I sat there basking in his cold embrace.

Next came the tank top. I mentally hit myself for not putting it on first, as it was a significantly less erotic experience. Still, as I slipped my arms through the holes that his once filled, my dick couldn’t help but twitch in approval. 

I ran to his bed, gripped his sheets, and stifled another moan with his pillow. This man had, until today, been a full on mystery to me. And now, here I was- deep in the recesses of his apartment, nestled in the indent on his bed, buried in fabric stained with traces his scent and natural grime. I was drowning in the all aspects of his daily life. It was an intimacy with River previously unheard of and practically a miracle I hadn’t cummed yet. 

The next few moments were sluggish, mind hazy and drunk in pleasure, as I wore my jacket and pants over the River clothes I had already had on me. I mentally thanked myself for wearing tighter clothing earlier today, as I felt them compress River’s undergarments tighter on my flesh. I walked back, sitting on the dining table and pretending to work.

A few minutes later, the door clicked open and a panting River waved. He no longer had a hoodie on and left nothing to imagination. I eyed the feast before me.

I fucking knew it. This kid was ripped. 

I salivated as my eyes followed every contour of the body that would soon be mine. His flesh was flush and glistening with sweat.

“M-must have been some workout,” I mumbled. I couldn’t stop myself from staring.

“Yeah, fucking kicked my ass today,” River said with a short laugh. My dick twitched. River never swore, never gave off a jockish vibe at work, but here he was, beaten tired and unable to contain his natural state behind a facade of politeness. 

My lip quivered when his post-workout scent wafted into my nose. It was divine. True to his name, River had an earthy, deep musk about him. A delayed, almost sour afternote followed, the kind that clings to the nose. It riled me up, knowing this offensive, raw blast of testosterone had been working next to me for the past two years, hidden by layers of work clothes and pleasantries. River was cleaned, masked and sanitized for corporate America. And now I had a private showing to it. I was feral. I wanted-no, needed to be piloting this hunk for myself.

My trance was broken when River dropped to his couch, laughing slightly. This wasn’t his normal laugh- it dropped all pretense and I recoiled out of reflex, thinking back to that same laugh that emanated from the football jocks back in high school. 

A lazy pair of eyes drifted up to meet me. “Sorry bro, just new a few minutes.”

I gulped. This was my chance. No need for precision, no need for focus. River was vulnerable. In any other circumstance, I’d be syncing to his movements, slowly, imperceptibly altering his as he would start following mine. Then I could pull him into my trance, lead him to a safe area as I continued the process. This was different. River served himself up on a platter for me, beaten to near immobility by his workout. No way was I gonna miss this. I stripped quickly, abandoning my original plan.

Without a word, I walked closer to him, grabbing his wrists. 

“W-what are you”. In that instant, i jumped on top of him, allowing my body to follow the contours of his.

He grunted in defiance while I began to grind in pleasure. “Ughhh! Fuck bro. I can’t! I can’t wait. I can’t wait to be River!” 

The process was quick- his drenched, energy drained flesh practically grabbed at mine, drawn by my own energy into itself. It was osmosis. I moaned as I saw the process start, and River’ meaty form encapsulate my own. His arms and legs splayed as he screamed at the intrusion. “What the fuck are you-“ He grunted in pain as he felt our two forms begin to meld. I laughed a perverted laugh, eyeing how deep I was inside him. His lack of energy had been his downfall.

I licked the inside of his head, feeling him shiver and whimper at the intrusion. I whispered venomously. “What am I doing?” I thrusted myself deeper into his muscled form, “I’m becoming River. I’m gonna wear you like a fine red suit.” I felt my facial muscles match his and pulled him into a smile he did not intend to make. “You boring prude. This body was built for sex. You’re starving this poor thing. I bet it’s backed up.” I whined in half-whispers. “Let me take you for a ride.” River moaned in horror, kicking his legs into the sofa in discomfort as his muscled back began to close over me. Possessing the ginger felt like a warm, dank hug. “You feel that?” I teased, this time his voice mimicking mine. He could no longer respond as it had become my mouthpiece. Instead, his head repeatedly slammed the sofa in resistance, forced to wear a smile that was not his own. 

I laughed, feeling our combined chest heave in deep pleasure as I jammed my fingers deep into each bicep. I drilled into each arm, relishing in feeling his muscle fibers slip past me. Power. He shook as he tried in vain to resist my fingers filling into his. Putting on those vascular hands like well-fitted gloves. “Fuck yeah bro… that’s the stuff. Dominate me. Command me. Control my every move. My nerves are itching for their owner. Put this ginger meatsuit on…” I mock in his voice. Tears welled in my eyes, as I felt him continue to slam our slowly merging head into the sofa. I purse our lips before moaning further. “Wear my clothes…” My legs wove into his, twisting and binding into one. “Wear my personality…” the bottom half of our merged face laughs, while my new eyes blink away angered tears. I felt his memories begin to flow and surround mine. His rage and desperation flowed through me. The slamming slowed, coming to a complete halt as a reborn River’s eyes blinked into a lewd, sinful glee. “Wear my life.”

I stood up, piloting my new body towards the mirror. “You’re still in there, aren’t you?” River’s outward defiance no longer showed over his perfect flesh but his mind was a raging storm. “Good.” His body lit in searing pain, sore muscle tendon and fiber forced to flex. I felt the storm calm as he was stunned. I myself winced slightly before my arousal imprinted itself through River’s face. This was my pain now. I could feel every fiber of his musculature tearing and repairing themselves. Building back stronger with the pre-workout mix he had drunken earlier. Building back with me embedded deep inside. Our leg wobbled in pain, before I slapped it back into submission, forcing it to flex. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff.”

I roared and patted my new chest and abs. “YEEAAAH!” Just one last piece of me was left. An intentional dessert I had left not internally bonded with River. 

I let his normally stoic face relay the erotic pleasure I felt in wearing this flesh. I then pulled a “serious” face, bringing pained biceps into a flex. “We gotta live up to our name bro… gotta let the river flow”. A greedy tongue licked the dripping sweat hanging off ginger hairs of his armpit. I wanted to savor this. The tangy, salty nectar lingered in our shared tongue before I began to make out with my new reflection. With a grunt, I slammed River’s pelvis into the mirror, groaning as my growing hard-on began to fill into his dick. At first contact, I felt our senses mingle and the cold metal of the mirror. I grunted, trying to reign in the lust. With our linked sensitivity, I could feel my original body’s dick worming itself into my soon to be River-flavored cock. I thrusted my rod up, relishing in the soothing bare metal beneath the perverse cock and cock sleeve combination.

I grabbed at my new rod with one hand, while the other greedily dragged across my new body, feeling every new muscle and crevice and damp piece of the hunk. River thrashed inside me, disgusted at feeling his own flesh violate itself. At watching this new carnal entity that wore his face and name.

“S-someone’s gonna find out. Someone will fix this” He threatened in my mind. 

“No bro… you’re the perfect host. No one at work knows a thing about you”. I cooed in his voice. “When we quit, when I take this thick ginger cock for a joy ride-“ tug “No one…” tug “No one will know.” I groaned as the last of his dick bonded to mine. We were complete. “I’m River now!” I shouted before devolving into whimpers of pleasure as I felt River’s warm seed stream out of me. 

River’s softening, sore wood was forced back into full mast as I eyed the full extent of my- now his- depravity. Not wanting to waste a drop, I smeared my new lotion onto my new flesh, caking in layers of his drying sweat with layers of drying semen. I could only hear gagging in my mind as River was forced to taste his own produce. It’s my body now anyways, why shouldn’t it reek of sex and his natural musk?

[struwberrii]

Hello, I like your haikyu headcanons and was wondering if you could do tendou headcanons?:)

tendou headcanons ₊˚⊹♡

thank u for the request!! i feel like tendou doesn’t get a lot of love nowadays so this one is for all the tendou fans (•̀ᴗ•́ )و

he def just makes up songs randomly and sings them for you (usually just to make you laugh)

his shoes usually aren’t tied and he never noticed until someone points it out

imagine tendou with a snaggletooth (i saw someone on tiktok say this and CANNOT STOP THINKING ABT IT it so cute)

constantly does impersonations of characters (he’s actually kind of decent)

little trinket collector

chronically picks at his lips and always ends up bleeding

also picks at his nails/fingers

always celebrates your small little wins with you (yaaayyyy!!)

always comes up with silly games to play when you guys are bored

randomly drops lore on you

makes scary faces at kids if they’re staring for too long

i feel like he’d lowkey listen to tommy heavenly6

hates calling during the day but will have a full convo with you through voice messages

does not let anyone pick on you AT ALL like he’ll get super protective and use his ‘scary’ looks to his advantage to freak people out

encourages you to step out of your comfort zone and try new things

some days social anxiety is scared of him, then the next day he’s too anxious to even go outside

constantly begging you to let him do your makeup even if you don’t wear it (he botched you)

but he still gets insecure sometimes and needs to hear praises and reassurance

let’s you style/cut his hair for him

probably had a random pet growing up, like he found a frog or turtle outside and kept it as a pet

draws on his arms and legs when he gets bored

always scares you, like he waits around the corner for you then jumps out and scares you

has a HUGE sweet tooth

i feel like he would have a really bad memory but keeps all important dates written down, don’t ask him what he ate for dinner because he doesn’t remember

sits in the shower

playful teasing as a love language

watches mukbang videos while he eats

genuinely has a hard time voicing how he feels about people so he uses humor to mask his emotions and now nobody takes him seriously

shockingly the best guy to go to when you need to cheer up, and not because he’d make you laugh but he just knows what to say?? if that makes sense

like he tells you what he wishes someone told him when he was in middle school

always makes sure nobody is left out in a group activity

has the craziest diet, like i feel like he’d eat like a toddler

average tendou meal consists of a yoohoo chocolate milk, a pizza lunchable and a handful of grapes and that’s enough to hold him over for the day

sports garfield pajama pants ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

i feel like he’d also listen to alice in chains

but i also feel like he’d listen to gorillaz

his knees are always bruised (prob from volleyball)

has an impressive figure collection of his favorite manga character :3

sorry guys this is like 30% me projecting 70% tendou hcs 😭

[literallyjusttoa]

Apollo Music Headcanons

As a god Apollo’s singing voice can be whatever he wants it to be, but as Lester I imagine it as a strong tenor (he can’t hit a lot of low notes and it pisses him off) with a bit of a rasp in it. He sings like he’s been classically trained, but with enough confidence to bend the rules in order to get the right feelings out of the song. In one word, I’d describe Lester’s singing as raw. It’s not perfect, but the imperfections seem planned in such a way that they touch you even more than perfection would.

There are multiple languages that Apollo has learned solely so he could perform the most popular songs of the era. Italian, German, Spanish, Korean, Japanese, and a couple more throughout the years. This is also how he learned English.

He uses vocal warmups as a form of stimming. Meg wakes up some mornings and hears him going “oooOOOOooooOOOOooo” and just has to deal with it. He pulls them from all over too. Sometimes it will be professional warmups that opera singers use, and other time he’ll be whipping out “mama made me mash my m&m’s” from middle school chorus

Leto has a lullaby she used to sing to Apollo and Artemis while she was still searching for a place to safely give birth. To this day, it’s the first song Apollo plays on every new instrument he picks up.

Apollo is scarily good at impressions, even as Lester. He has so much vocal control that impersonating the sounds of others comes easily. He can also throw his voice really well.

He has songs that he connects to other people. Will’s song, Meg’s song, etc. when he’s lonely on Olympus, he listens to them on repeat.

Apollo is the god of music, not the god of good music. You could bang two trashcan lids together and have a screaming raccoon as lead vocalist and he’d probably still add it to a playlist. He unironically listens to some of the most hated songs of the last few centuries. Ironically, he’s also the worst person to pass the aux to in the car. If he really cares about you, he’ll cater the music he chooses to your taste. If not, you’re getting the whiplash of the next biggest K-pop hit followed by the liturgical chants of Hildegard von Bingen. Enjoy!

[hubbypossession]

"Ahhh yeah. That's perfect! You could have slowed down for me man. It's hard to hit a moving target." I said aloud in my new voice as I jumped into my new body.

I stepped off the road and took a rest on the bench, taking in my new surroundings. Just a moment ago, I was inside a little girl looking from her balcony in the apartment above. I had used my body hopper powers to jump into a body from a long distance, and it was getting easier for me.

You see, I'm a jumper and I've been running from the government for the last week. I was an 18-year old regular dude before this all started. I had accidentally hopped into my grandpa and somehow I ended up on the radar of some secret agency that knew about my kind. Luckily, I was able to swap into one of the agents before they caught on which body I was in.

In the last week, I've been like 20 different people. All different ages, genders, and races. I had hopped into the little girl, first impersonating her father. Now that I was getting better at hopping into bodies from long distances, I would be even more unstoppable.

Unfortunately it seemed that the agents were never more than a day behind me as they tried desperately to catch up. I had no idea what they wanted and I didn't want to find out. I miss my family, and my girlfriend, and my old life. But it seems that this is my life now, at least for a bit - a life on the run.

Still, it could be worse. Jumping into a new body is exhilarating and erotic at times. I can feel their emotions, their thoughts, their personalities, their desires - all in a single instance when I swap into them. It makes it really easy to impersonate them and be them for a while.

Right now, I was inside Taylor Rodriguez. Age 32. Gay. Works as a veterinarian assistant. It was weird suddenly being gay and having feelings towards men. I thought of my husband at home now. His name is Manny. Damn he was attractive. I felt my new cock get hard through my shorts. I was a stud now and I was going to enjoy this body for a bit. I'll probably hop into Manny next and continue my adventures. I hope one of these days I can settle down into a life and enjoy myself though.

I used my phone and called up my husband. Letting him know how horny I was and that I wanted his dick in my ass. He seemed to enjoy that I was shirtless and sweaty from my run. Good to know Manny has a musk kink. I'll try and get myself a little worked up too before I see him. Let's see what my new kinks are now...

[himbosandhardwear]

Slowly, like the way most things occur to Steve, he realizes that the way he and a lot of guys, probably most guys, talk about women is kinda gross. Kinda impersonal and objectable...no wait....objectifying. He loves that he can talk to Robin about chicks but as soon as he starts to say what he loves about them he realizes, though Robin likes girls, she is also a girl, and probably doesn't want to hear locker room talk. Which is when he starts to wonder if what he considers normal guy banter is actually gross douchebag banter.

"They're so warm," he says, which seems like a nice thing to say, neutral.

"I guess?" She frowns. "Guys are warm too though."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, I mean, women don't have a monopoly on body heat."

"Right," he agrees. Except what he was really thinking was the heat on the inside. Again, gross. That thought then leads to another thought. A weird, why-am-I-thinking-about-this thought. That guys are probably warm on the inside too. Definitely. Definitely warm on the inside. Shit. That's weird.

He doesn't have anyone to talk this over with anymore. Dustin is too young. Jonathan is currently getting warm with Nancy, so that doesn't seem appropriate. Wait! He can talk to Eddie!

"Is it fucked up to talk about sex stuff with Robin?" He asks Eddie the next time they're alone.

"What?" He responds.

"Like, she feels like a bro, but she's not actually a bro, cause she's a girl. Normally I'd talk about hookups with a bro but she probably doesn't want to hear about that kinda stuff."

"I guess," Eddie agrees.

"I almost said some pretty gross shit to her the other day but I stopped myself, thank god."

"How gross?"

"Just that I like how warm girls are, but, you know, on the inside. Which would be totally fine to say to another dude but she probably doesnt want to hear that from me. And then I started freaking out because it's probably just gross in general to talk about girls like that? Do you and the band talk about shit like that or was it just my asshole friends from school and I'm only just now realizing how fucked up it is?"

"Me? No, I've never talked about girls like that."

"Ah fuck, I knew it."

"But I'm pretty sure they're all virgins, so..."

"Oh. Do you ever talk about girls with anyone?"

"......no."

"I guess that means I'm an asshole."

"You're not an asshole, Steve. Talking about girls seems like a normal thing to talk about with your friends. Maybe not Robin, she might beat your ass."

"We could talk about that kinda stuff though, right?"

"Uh...."

"Never mind. It's stupid."

"No, it's just- I mean. You could tell me whatever. I'm cool."

"Oh, okay."

They stare at their feet.

"Is this weird? It feels weird."

"I'm gay, Steve."

Steve blinks. "Oh! Okay, that's cool." His eyes light up. "Wait! You'd know, are guys as warm inside as I thought?"

Eddie has a small stroke. He has to let his face say the words his mouth can't.

"Shit, it's still weird huh? Damn."

"No. Uh. It's just...why were you thinking about that?"

"Robin said girls don't have a monopoly on being warm and I just thought yeah she's right, so it makes sense that guys are just as warm as girls. It probably feels the same I mean. You don't have to tell me, you know, if it's weird to ask."

"Not weird to ask. It's just...I have no idea."

"Oohhh," Steve says. "You're a virgin too?"

"No."

Steve frowns in confusion.

Eddie wants to bury himself under a slab of concrete but makes himself explain. "You see, when guys fuck, one of thems gotta be the...warm one...as it were."

The line between his eyes doesn't lessen.

"I'm a bottom."

Still, somehow, he doesn't get it.

"Oh my god Steve, I'm the girl!"

His mouth makes a little 'O'.

"Yeah. That's not exactly how I like to describe it but you looked like you weren't visualizing. So."

Steve is having some truly deep thoughts. He's never thought about being the girl before. Like, obviously girls like being the girl. He hopes so anyway. But he's wondering what's the draw of being the girl if you're a guy.

"And you like it?" He blurts out.

Eddie, who's been a deep shade of pink already, turns violently red.

"Yup."

"Huh. Guess it makes sense. Never thought about it before though."

"Well, yeah, why would you?"

"Hey, I'm pretty open minded!"

"Sure. But straight guys don't tend to think about taking it up the ass. You know, as a rule." (A/N Eddie doesn't know wtf he's talking about)

Steve takes this in and realizes a few things, faster than he's ever realized anything before. He's thinking about it. And he's curious. And he wants to ask Eddie what it feels like and why he likes it. And he wants to ask if it hurts and if the pain is part of why he likes it. Because he thinks he might like that.

Fuck.

Okay. He can be normal about this. Eddie said Steve could talk to him about sex. It's normal and fine.

"We should fuck."

[iwritefandomimagines]

I COULD KISS YOU — GREG HOUSE

masterlist

pairing: greg house x reader

description: when an offhand comment to praise house for helping you diagnose a patient leads to the silent treatment, you’re both forced to confront the feelings that had been lingering unspoken for too long.

warnings: swearing, angst to a teeny bit of fluff, may be a lil ooc as i’m still iffy on fleshing out how i write the house characters but i’m trying <3

author’s note: had this idea and got excited so bashed it out quite quickly while i was motivated af — hopefully you enjoy !!! let me know what you think

“Gregory House, you bloody genius,” you exclaimed, clenching your fists in excitement, unable to stop the words that came flying out next, “I could kiss you!”

You’d been trying to diagnose your patient for nigh on a week now, and with the young boy’s symptoms rapidly progressing and his condition rapidly worsening, House’s diagnostic expertise provided exactly the breakthrough you needed.

You were ecstatic — mentally piecing together just how he had to be correct — and so without another word you practically skipped out of his office to run some tests and reach the certainty needed to treat the boy as soon as possible.

What House had suggested made perfect sense, accounting for every symptom and every adverse reaction to the treatments you had tried so far, and though you usually mocked his tendency to always smugly assume he was right, at present you were immeasurably grateful for his input.

You were disappointed, then, when you rushed to tell him that the young boy was responding incredibly well to the treatment he suggested and he simply gave you his smug “I-told-you-so” smile and rushed away from you.

He didn’t speak to you again for the rest of the day, choosing instead to actually take time to visit his patients rather than deal with encountering you again.

“What did I do to piss House off?” you asked Cameron, Foreman and Chase shyly as you stood near the nurse’s station with them.

They all just eyed you like the answer was obvious, but Chase shrugged, “When has anyone ever needed to actually do something to piss him off?”

“No, he won’t even talk to me right now,” you frowned, brows furrowed, “It’s weird. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong since this morning.”

The group all looked between eachother, as though deciding who would be the one to have to tell you the honest truth.

“Probably something to do with your little ‘I could kiss you’,” Chase replied, doing a terrible impersonation of you and batting his eyelids flirtatiously as he quoted you, “He didn’t seem to like that very much.”

Your mouth was parted in confusion, “Firstly, I do not sound like that. But secondly, why would he give me the silent treatment for that? Is the idea of kissing me that repulsive?”

Cameron scoffed, rolling her eyes, “You’re both as oblivious as each other, Y/N… He’s ignoring you for literally the opposite reason.”

You shook your head in disbelief.

Was she seriously trying to tell you that House was ignoring you because he didn’t like you joking about kissing him?

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“It’s literally painfully obvious, Y/N,” Foreman groaned, “You’ve had this weird sexual tension going on forever and given that he’s usually bad at giving a damn about people, he gets weird about you. And he obviously has feelings for you, so it rubbed him up the wrong way.”

Chase chuckled, “They’re right. He’s only mad at you because you’re the only person he’s never mad at but you hurt the feelings he apparently has.”

You pondered what he was saying for a moment, trying to piece together whether there was any semblance of truth behind their explanation for House’s weird behaviour.

Truth be told, it was the exact kind of petty and ill-fitting behaviour you’d expect from House.

For such a brilliant man, he could be utterly childish at times, especially if he wasn’t getting his way.

Your relationship had always teetered on the edge of professionalism — he was always making flirtatious comments, he always took your suggestions on board more than the others, always sung your praises to your peers and superiors.

Whilst everyone else was certain it was proof of his feelings for you, you had just thought he appreciated that you never pried into his life unless he offered to divulge information himself, and you were excellent at your job.

Of course, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed your ambiguous relationship, given the crush you had harboured since very early on in your acquaintance. That’s why you always flirted back, always made sure your input was carefully though out, and why you were always singing his praises too.

But it was Greg House — a man who so famously behaved as though he didn’t care about anyone. So of course you didn’t think that things would ever progress past your unprofessional professional relationship.

“Where is he?”

“In his office,” Cameron smiled, “He told me to make sure nobody bothered him, and I think he meant you because he’s still throwing his toys out of the pram.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, “God, he’s ridiculous. I’m going to go and talk to him. Or try, anyway. Wish me luck.”

“Is this House we’re talking about?” Dr. James Wilson made an appearance at your side now, his brow quirked in curiosity as he butted into the conversation.

You nodded, “He’s being a baby instead of actually talking to me about why he’s mad.”

You hoped he’d have some kind of more concrete explanation, given that he was the only person House was even remotely honest around.

“He’s hardly an expert at talking about his feelings, is he? Or having them, actually,” Wilson chuckled, “But he’s been grumbling all day. Please do go and speak to him. For my sanity’s sake, if not your relationship’s.”

“Slow down, Wilson,” you scoffed, but though you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, you couldn’t deny the fluttering in your stomach at any sort of reference to you and House’s potential relationship, “I’m going!”

You entered the room without even knocking, folding your arms over your chest with a stern expression on your features as you strode towards his desk and stood firmly in front of him.

“I’m busy.”

“Busy being petty and ignoring me?”

He looked up now, narrowing his eyes as he realised you were not going to meekly scuttle away like you had done every other time he’d dismissed you today.

“What makes you think that?” sarcasm dripped from his words, “I just so enjoy spending time getting to know my patients and doing paperwork!”

You huffed out a sigh, frustrated by him already trying to dodge the subject, “Greg.”

“Y/N.”

“Greg!”

“Y/N!” he matched your tone just to challenge you, and you scoffed, “Are you really going to be like this?”

“Like what?”

“So deliberately evasive?”

His lips drew together in a thin line as he eyed you carefully, “How’s your little boy from this morning?”

“You are so fucking frustrating, Greg,” you scowled, “Can we have an adult conversation here?”

He appeared to ponder over another joke to make, but apparently for the first time in his life thought better, as he remained silent and waited for you to continue.

“I’ve been so stressed out about that kid, and you helped me to help him massively — he’s likely to be discharged by tomorrow. I was so happy, so relieved, and I said I could kiss you,” you began, avoiding his gaze at first until your final sentence, “And it was a silly offhanded comment about how grateful I was, but at the same time I honestly could’ve kissed you because I quite honestly want to a lot of the time.”

Oh my God — you’d stunned the Greg House into silence?

Your breathing was jagged, “I don’t know if you’re just being an ass because you don’t like being on the other end of jokes, or if the team actually aren’t just blind hopeless romantics and you actually care about me. But I just wish you’d talk to me instead of doing all this and making me feel like you don’t care at all.”

He pulled himself up onto his feet, grabbing his cane to lean on as he inched closer to you.

“It’s a bit of both,” his voice was low, and you were sure that if you didn’t know him better you might believe him to be shy about telling you the truth, “I’m not good at caring, and I don’t usually like caring, but I guess I do. Sue me!”

You took another step forward, so that you were so close you were breathing right in each other’s faces.

You were trying to be brave and command the conversation, but your stomach was doing backflips as it dawned on you that what he meant was that he really did feel the same about you.

“Why would you go silent on me then instead of talking to me about it?” you bit your lip as you spoke, and caught notice of how his eyes trailed to your lips as you did so.

He swallowed thickly, “Didn’t feel right to. Hardly professional, is it?”

“Oh, because you’re the picture of professionalism usually aren’t you?” you laughed dryly.

“Point taken,” he shrugged, “Maybe I was little scared. And we’ve got a good thing going, it’s a risk pushing things any further.”

You weren’t happy with that, not when this was Greg House — king of taking risks and breaking rules — and you were certain that it was a risk worth taking anyway.

“When has risk ever stopped you?” you asked, whispering now as your eyes darted between his and his lips whilst he mirrored your behaviour.

“Point also taken,” he mumbled, before finally taking the plunge and bringing his lips to yours in a heated kiss that you leaned into immediately.

He quickly leaned back to sit on the edge of his desk, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you to stand between his parted legs.

You pulled back, suddenly aware that anyone could come in at this moment and see you — and whilst the biggest risk here really was endless teasing from the team or a scolding from Cuddy, you did still have some things to discuss too.

You didn’t want to ruin the moment, overcome with giddiness at what had just happened, but you wanted to make your feelings clear; Even if it was to a man who would probably make a jokey remark and underplay his own feelings.

“I don’t know your relationship history, and I don’t care to,” you shrugged, moving your hands to your hips but hardly moving away from him, “Well, I’m not rushing to. I can assume it’s not great, but I just want to take every day as it comes and see where things go because mine isn’t great either. I’m not gonna hurt you, Greg.”

The sincerity in his eyes as he gazed up at you made your heart melt, and you could tell that somehow, some way, you had gotten through to him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t be certain that you’ll keep, Y/N,” he mumbled, before shaking off his own words and standing back up to stare into your eyes intently, “But fine. Because it’s you, I’m willing to try. Provided there’s more of this,” he kissed you again before continuing, “And less of them ogling and concocting their little romantic stories about the lovely doctor Y/N and her damaged old fool.”

You turned around to see the entire team peering through the window, all smiles and whispered chatter at the sight before them.

You raised your middle finger to them, turning back to look at House and stepping back a little from him.

“Unfortunately, those nosey fuckers are not going anywhere,” you rolled your eyes, “If you’re willing to try then we’re going for dinner. Tonight. And we’re going to have a good time, and not talk about this place or about anything you don’t want to.”

He nodded, “I’ll pretend I’m not furious you’ve robbed me of making the grand romantic gesture of being the one to ask,” he cocked his head as he joked, truthfully very much pleased you were the one to ask and confirm that your interest in him was genuine, “But sounds good to me. I’ll wear my nicest tux, eh.”

“Yeah, yeah, ha ha,” you hummed, “Now I’ve got a living patient to go and visit thanks to you. Enjoy your afternoon with that lot,” you gestured to your friends, who were all still stood there watching you, “Good luck. Oh, and pick somewhere to book for us to eat. That can be your grand romantic gesture, hm.”

“Gee, thanks,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” you grinned, swanning out of his office with the biggest smile possible painting your features.

You nudged past your friends as they watched you walk down the corridor, happier than they had probably ever seen you in the time that you’d known them.

They immediately filed into House’s office when you were out of sight, and his head fell back in irritation for a moment despite the smile still gracing his lips.

“Things went well, then?”

“Go away,” he replied, “I’m in a good mood for once, and you idiots aren’t going to ruin that, alright?”

“Woah, okay,” Foreman laughed, “Who are you and what has Y/N done with Greg House?”

———

thanks for reading !!! i hope enjoyed and this wasn’t too ooc lol. let me know what you though pleaaase & if you’d like — feel free to request!

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

[sunny44]

All these years (Part 2)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend! Reader

Warnings: bad words, fights and maybe more things

Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It was a long journey to Monaco.

My mother wanted me to stay at home and I really didn't want to, so I just arrived at the hotel I was going to stay at.

"What do you mean there's a problem with my accommodation?"

"I'm sorry Miss Y/l/n but your reservation was canceled two days ago."

"I didn't fucking cancel it."

"I did." I turned and saw my mother standing there. "Come on, Y/n."

"I'm sorry." said the receptionist who agreed and I followed my mother outside. "What's wrong with you? I said I didn't want to stay at your house."

"And I said I don't care what you want or don't want."

"So you called the hotel impersonating me and canceled my reservation? How did you know I'd be staying at this hotel?"

"It was obvious that you'd be staying in the hotel closest to us." I rolled my eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady."

"Then stop acting like you're the boss of me."

"But I am."

"No, you're not, the moment I moved out of your house and started supporting myself you lost that right and in case you can't count it's been years."

"Get in the car."

"I'm not going home, I told you."

"And I've told you that none of the other hotels will accept you there, so you either stay at home or sleep on the street. Now get in the car."

"I came by car so I don't need your ride."

I got into the car and slammed the door, driving off as fast as I could.

This was another reason why I hated coming here.

My mother.

Ever since Charles and I split up, she turned into this completely cold person, said I'd ruined everything and that I should have said no to the promotion and stayed here.

But her vision of a woman with the perfect life was to be married to a guy who worked to support his wife and kids.

That's what her mother, my grandmother, taught her, and that's why she's always been like that, so she thought I'd fall for it too.

I got home and after parking I saw my father coming out of the house and he smiled when he saw me.

"Hi my love, I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Dad." I hugged him tightly and he kissed my forehead.

"Where's your mom?"

"She’s probably coming, I drove here."

"She said she'd pick you up."

"She did, but I drove from Milan so...”

"You had a fight, didn't you?" I agreed. "Love, you have to make things right with her."

"No, she's the one who has to apologize to me." I looked at him. "Since when is a mother disappointed by her daughter's success?"

"She wasn't disappointed in you."

"Yes, she was and you know it, her dream was for me to marry him, get pregnant and live the life of a madam who doesn't do anything the way she does."

"Darling, your mother was raised like that.”

"So was I, but I took different paths, so it's her fault. We decided our own future and she decided hers and I decided mine." he agrees quietly. "Can you believe she canceled my hotel reservation and even called others so they wouldn't accept me just so I'd stay here?"

"Did you do this Jessica?" He asks and I turn around to see my mother standing there.

"You're barely home and you're already causing friction between me and your father, aren't you?"

"There wouldn't be any friction if you didn't do shit like that."

"Look at the way you talk to me in my house," she says angrily.

"I didn't even want to be here, you brought me here so take the consequences."

I picked up my suitcases and took them to my old room. It was completely different, but since I'd taken most of the things that made up my room, it ended up becoming a guest room.

"Y/n." Knocks on the door and enters. "We are having dinner later at the Leclerc's, okay?"

"I don't think I'm going."

"Why not?"

"Kind of obvious, isn't it?" I say and he laughs.

That's what I liked most about my father, he understood my jokes and ironies and was always in a good mood.

"Well, it's up to you, but Arthur asked me to tell you that if you didn't show up he’d come and pick you up."

"Then he'll have to come." My father laughs and leaves.

tag list: @formulas-bitch @nuggetvirgo @lndonrris @cmleitora @janeholt3 @coffeewhore18 @blueflorals @agentadhd @eviethetheatrefreak @honethatty12 @lec-16 @ariamox @boherahpsody @ssararuffoni @leilani13gc @alldaysdreamers @minmira95 @dessxoxsworld @dessxoxsworld

The names with a line above were because I couldn't tag them

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 5 - Monster

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

If they’re only with him as prisoners, what kind of monster does that make him? 

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9

Warnings: mentions of sex as usual, some depressing thoughts, slight mention of an abusive relationship (stella), you guys ready for a time jump? this happens after the season 1 finale. don't worry we'll find out what happens during that in a later chapter! a lot of the dialogue here comes straight from the show. this is all solely in stolas' pov!!

Word count: 6,005

Stolas almost wishes he’d have the guts to kick the two demons out after they were done with the… activities agreed upon.  

He almost wishes they’d see themselves out immediately after, not leaving him a single, mere second to get used to their presence. He almost wishes their talk of not staying the night weren’t so empty, the promise broken by a simple plea for them to stay. He almost wishes he’d have the willpower to refrain himself from pleading. He almost wishes they had never let him have a taste of feeling their weight on his mattress next to his own body or to their body heat keeping him warm under his fancy bedsheets, to begin with. He almost wishes they’d never let him have an insight into how a life as their lover could be like, waking up to their half-dressed bodies still lazily holding onto his in some way in the morning. 

Then again, Stolas is a hypocrite. A self-aware one at that, too. 

Because he could intervene and he could stop all of these things from happening. He could tell them they had to go. He could not ask them to stay. He could never see them again. Because he’d been the one to propose they start this complicated situation they all found themselves in and he was the only one, really, who could realistically put an end to it, given they still needed their part of the deal. Because he could have done it a long while ago, cut the problem at its roots, stopped himself from falling, never have pushed them into this, and he’s well aware of it. He never really did, though. 

He should have. 

As the months went by, the more Stolas’ feelings- real, scary, romantic feelings- grew. And, with it, the more he started to see their arrangement in a different light. Back when he didn’t care all that much, he didn’t really think it through. They wanted something of his, he wanted something from them. It seemed fair and simple in his mind at the time. 

But he cares now. And at times it makes him feel disgusting. What was he thinking, anyway, tying them to himself against their will? Sure, they agreed when they could have denied it. But then again, he held the power in all of this. He had the book and they needed it badly. They’d probably do whatever he wanted for it. 

The thought had started to make him sick.

If they’re only with him as prisoners, what kind of monster does that make him? 

He buries those thoughts and conceals those feelings whenever he sees the two, making place for the momentary happiness that comes with their visits, but it eats him alive. 

He hadn’t seen either of them in a while, ever since… what happened at Ozzie's. He’d texted both Blitzo and y/n the day after that, and, upon receiving a disappointing one-letter text in reply from the imp and a nicer, but still dry and impersonal one from the succubus, he didn’t know why he still expected more than that. 

Then again, he’d never really looked at the situation through a lens other than his own. Why should he expect anything? It wasn’t their fault that he cared about them beyond the sexual nature of their relationship when their agreement ended at that. 

The whole divorce ordeal was coming close to making him lose his mind. When he announced he wanted a divorce, he thought that would be enough. He’d even felt bad about how he did all of that in front of Stella’s friends, how he embarrassed her.

But the aftermath of it reminded him of how that’s all she used to do to him, over and over again, and now she wasn’t accepting the idea all that well, seen as she still stayed around the palace, as if nothing had changed. 

It annoyed him to no end. 

“I cannot do this anymore, I want you out. Now.”

“What do you mean… ‘out’?”

“I mean out! Out of this palace. Out of my life. We are getting the divorce.”

“How dare you? What do you think the rest of the Goetia family will think? And Andrealphus-” Stella raised her hand, surely to slap him the face. It wasn’t something she did often, but Stolas couldn’t say it had never happened before. He’d allowed it, then, deeming himself deserving of it. 

He wouldn’t allow it this time. Never again. 

Stopping her made him realize how easily he could have done it all those other times, had he had the courage to. Announcing the divorce had unknowingly been the first step he needed to find the guts to begin standing up for himself. It was scary, but it was thrilling, at the same time. “I don’t care what your arrogant brother thinks!And the only thing the Goetia family wanted from our marriage is already seventeen, so it’s over. I’m done.”

Stolas knew what he did, and he knew Stella wouldn’t forgive him for it. He could only ever hope Via could, someday, understand. Still, he supposed what was in his power now that he had done it was to not let things fall into what they were before. He couldn’t have gotten things so messy for nothing. 

He didn’t even know what to think of the fact that he just couldn’t feel bad for what he’d done. Things were falling apart, and as much as he wished all of this didn’t affect Via, he didn’t regret it, now that it was done. In fact, he was relieved. Because he couldn’t go back now.

And he was fine with not wanting to.

So no more pretending to be fine, no more putting everyone else’s wishes before his own.  

… It’s easier said than done when that’s all you’ve ever known. 

[. . .]

Stolas woke up with a headache. Fuck, it was moving day. 

Well, for Stella, that is. And she wasn’t moving, per se. She had moved out the same night he demanded that she did, but every single day after that she’d come over to the palace again, claiming to have forgotten something she so desperately needed. 

The night before, he’d had enough of it, making sure to pull whatever strings he could to have all of her things out of his home by the end of the next day. 

So he woke up early, with a pounding headache, put on his robes, and walked himself straight to the front door, not stopping to get himself breakfast as he usually did. He could already hear some commotion. Good, at least people were already there to start on getting her absurd amount of belongings. Maybe they’d be done early enough that he could enjoy the rest of the day. Honestly, all Stolas had been longing for was a peaceful day. 

It was quickly proven to him that this wasn’t going to be one of those. 

As soon as he laid his foot on the first floor, the phone started ringing, and a servant ran over to bring it to him. He let out a sigh. Stella, surely. 

He was right. 

[. . .]

The phone call was going on half an hour with no signs of ending any time soon, when Via walked in.

It was hard to properly talk to her when Stella was whining on the other side of the call, so he deemed it better to dismiss her and have a conversation when he and her mother were done yelling at each other. “Darling, can we not talk about this now? Your mother is being a real B-I-T-C-H.”

Stella yelled incoherent insults at him for that. “Well how was I supposed to know you can spell? I’ve never seen you read!”

About an hour later, only a couple minutes after finally being able to hang up the phone, it rang again. He let out a groan in annoyance. Did she ever, ever shut up? 

He picked the phone up again, ready to curse at her when a voice came through first- one that wasn’t hers.

“Heyyy, Stolas, so, your daughter came by, took your book and teleported off to who-the-fuck-knows-where and we have no way of getting either of them back. Okay? Okay, good talk. Byyee!” Blitzø blurted it all out at once before hanging up abruptly. 

What. The actual. Fuck. 

In an instant, Stolas was there, in his full demon form without having even noticed he’d changed into it, angry beyond he’s ever been at the imp. 

“BLITZ!”

“Heeeyy, Stolas,” Blitzo tried (and failed miserably) to act nonchalant, earning angry looks from his employees.

Stolas turned back into his normal self, now worried more than anything, pacing back and forth on the reception floor as he tried to assimilate the situation. “How could this happen? Do you just let anyone waltz into your office and grab infinitely powerful artifacts?” He shouted. “Why would she do this? How are we supposed to find her? Where would she go?”

Blitzo’s daughter, Loona, tried sniffing around. Was it even possible that she’d be able to smell that? Apparently, she was successful, as she announced… “Well, it reeks of urine and desperation, so-”

“L.A.?” y/n asked, interrupting her. She seemed to be hoping she was wrong.

Loona confirmed with a nod. ‘L.A.”

Stolas didn’t understand exactly how she’d managed to do that, or even why y/n knew immediately where she was talking about just from those disgusting things she’d said about the place- that place must be awful. The thought only got him more worried, come to think of it. How was Via going to deal with a place that seemed to be so terrible in a realm she’d never visited? 

Stolas tilted his head to the side. “What is this ‘L.A.’ place like?”

“It’s not that different from here. She’ll be fine, I’m sure,” y/n tried to reassure him. It didn’t work all that much. 

He grimaced in preoccupation as he conjured a portal.

Blitzø was the last to walk through it. “Alright, Loona, let’s make this quick. In and out before anyone notices we’re here.” He looked around, taking the view in. “Oh, this doesn’t look much different from Hell.”

“I told ya,” y/n tells him. 

“Alright, well, let’s get to work. Loony, sniff!”

“How am I supposed to smell anything in this city?”

“Can’t you even do one thing right?” Moxxie complained, annoyed.

“Can't you finally do something about how fat you are?” The hellhound retorted.

“I’m not!”

Blitzø joined the conversation. “You know, it wouldn't kill ya to put a salad in your body every now and then.”

“What? But I'm not fat! I’m not!”

Great. He had no idea where Via was and the people supposed to help him find her were arguing about… whatever that was.

Blitzø climbed on top of a dumpster, grabbing a megaphone from satan-knows-where and talking into it. “Now! First things first, if we’re gonna do this the old-fashioned way, we’re gonna need disguises.”

Okay, now that Stolas could do. In an instant, he morphed into his human form, as did Loona and y/n, making Millie clap, amused at their abilities. He still couldn’t fathom the fact that the other three imps didn’t have real human disguises, and apparently just walked around the human realm as they were. 

Stolas could almost swear Blitzø looked amused as well, but it only lasted a second. Maybe he’d imagined it. He didn’t dwell on it- there was no time for anything other than finding his baby. 

“No chance you could conjure us a couple of those… can ya?” Blitzø asked him.

“Sadly, no. I’m afraid without my Grimoire my powers are just a tad limited in the human world,” Stolas explained. 

Blitzø scoffed. “What, you can’t memorize your fucking spells?”

“Oh, your memory’s so great? What’s his phone number?” Stolas motioned at Moxxie.

“Fuck you.”

Stolas smiled, content that he’d gotten his point across. “Eeeeexactly.”

As they all walk out of the alley they were in, Stolas grabs himself a pair of red-tinted sunglasses that he puts on his head, where his second pair of eyes would be. Yeah, that feels better. He watches as y/n grabs a pair too- purple heart-shaped ones- and pays for both. Where she’d gotten human money he didn’t know, but he found it endearing that she would spend it on their glasses when she could have just walked out with them. 

They continue on their way- which Stolas admittedly didn't know exactly to where, when y/n stops walking, asking them to wait. She’s turned around now, talking to Millie while Moxxie talked to a funny-looking human man. 

“What’s he doing?”

Moxxie hisses at Millie as she tries to take whatever it was he was holding from him. She sighs. “Look we’ll find ya, alright? I’ll just stick around so he doesn't do anything stupid.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we can handle ourselves. Right?”

“Right.” Y/n turns back around, cueing for everyone to keep walking.

“You worry too much,” Blitzø remarks.

“Oh shut the fuck up. Let’s find you something to wear.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Stolas shared a look with her. “Blitz, you’re not exactly… passing as a human right now.”

“And whose fault is that?” He jabs at Stolas. 

Y/n rolls her eyes at the comment, grabbing both demons by the hand and dragging them around until they found a shop she deemed useful. 

She grabbed some cash and gave it to Blitzø , sending him on his way inside the store, opting to wait outside. Stolas decided it would be best if he did the same. He tapped his foot nervously on the sidewalk as they waited and tilted his head to the side when Blitzø walked out the door with human clothes and gigantic costume ears to conceal his horns. Perhaps not changing would’ve brought less attention to him. 

“Now that’s disturbing,” Stolas pointed out. 

Blitzo looked like he was about to say something in return, but wasn’t able to- someone started yelling beside them. “Ahh! Look everyone! It’s Hollywood star, Brannon Ragers!”

“What?” Y/n asked no one in particular. 

“The fuck is a Brandon Rager- ohh,” Blitzø looked up behind himself, and the two demons did the same. Ohh, indeed. There it was, a billboard, huge as can be, with a guy’s- well, apparently Brannon Ragers’ face on it. The similarity between that guy and whatever was going on with Blitzo’s appearance right now was uncanny.

Stolas’ eyes widened. “Oh, dear.” If they didn’t want attention then, now things were getting so, so much worse.

A hoard of fans quickly surrounded Blitzø, to the point of almost suffocating him, as they asked for selfies or autographs or simply smothered him to the ground trying to hug him. “Millie! Where the fuck are you and your whorebag husband?” Stolas could hear him scream, but couldn’t for the life of him see him in the middle of so many people.

“Can you do something about this?” He asked y/n, unsure if either of them should even do anything. 

“I mean, technically I could wipe ‘em out but I don't think we want that, do we?”

No, definitely not. 

As the three of them tried to push their way into the crowd to get to Blitzø, someone blew a whistle, which made Loona’s ears hurt and caused everyone else to pay attention to whoever had done it- apparently, some guy with ugly glasses brandishing a diploma from ‘cinephile university’, whatever that meant. 

Satan, this place was so much more chaotic than Hell was.

It worked, though- the crowd dispersed, and Blitzø was released from someone’s grip, getting dropped face-first onto the sidewalk. Some other guy made his way over to him. “Mr. Ragers, we’ve been looking for you everywhere! You were supposed to be on set an hour ago!” As he spoke, two other guys, assumedly bodyguards, grabbed Blitzø up from the ground, holding him by his arms. 

“The fuck are you talking about?” Blitzø questioned.

“Shit, they think he’s that weirdo from the billboard,” Stolas heard y/n tell Loona.

“Your guest spot on ‘Sweetie, I’m in The House”! We’re taping tonight. Now, hurry up and get in the car.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, I’m not going anywhere with you, jizz biscuit,” Blitzø flipped him off. 

The guy didn’t seem bothered at all. “Very funny, Mr. Ragers. Now get in the car-” was he- was he making cat noises at him? “Come on, boy, come on,” he kept on, apparently trying to bribe him with fruit snacks, which only made everything so much more confusing. Was this Brannon Ragers guy flat-out stupid?

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Blitzø tried to release himself from the two bodyguards’ grip, but was unsuccessful, only making things worse for himself. “Loona, Stolas, y/n, a little help here?” He called out, now being forcefully dragged. His fake ears came off, but it didn't even faze anyone there. Humans are weird.

“Oh, shit,” y/n muttered. Apparently, like Stolas, she’d imagined Blitzø would have been able to get himself out of that situation, but things were going out of control now.

Stolas had to think, and fast. The crowd was going wild again, so he used his height as an advantage, the only one out of the three who could actually see over people. “Excuse me, sir, uhhhh” Shit, if they left Blitzø alone, who knew where they would take him? “I’m…. Mr. Ragers’ agent!” He found himself exclaiming. “I don’t believe you can just-” Yet another bodyguard simply grabbed him off the floor, taking him with them with no effort. That got him distracted for a second. “Oh, you are strong!” 

“No! What the fuck are you doing?” Y/n yelled after him, which was fair. He hadn’t really put much thought into what he’d done. No use thinking about it now that he and Blitzø were getting aggressively thown into the back of a van.

It only took a couple seconds for Stolas to realize what that meant- how was he going to look for Octavia from there?

“Blitz, we don’t have time for this. Via could be anywhere… She could be in danger.”

For a second, Blitzø looked worried too, until it seemed he’d had an idea. “Don’t worry, I’m on it.” He punched the window so he could stick his head out of it, looking for Loona and y/n. “You two! Go find Via! We’ll catch up soon!”

He was met with a middle finger from both of them. 

“Yeah! Way to be a team!” He yelled out, getting himself back into the van. “She’s in great hands.”

Stolas let himself smile weakly. He didn’t know if that was true, but he wanted to believe it- after all, Loona had been able to track Via up here, and y/n was sure to do the best she could. 

[. . .]

As they got to what apparently was their destination- Starstruck Studios, as it read- Blitzø was dragged around the set, barely able to keep up to what they were doing to him. They styled his fake hair, poked his eyes with something, applied heavy makeup on him- which, for some reason, did nothing to conceal his obvious red skin, and gave him a pat on the back, telling him he was ready and would be on in five. At some point during all of that, Stolas was handed what could be anywhere between 10 and 600 water bottles. 

“What? Five what? I can’t be in a sitcom.”

“Should’ve had an ego crisis before signing the contract,” the producer guy mocked him. 

Stolas took a good look at him. He looked nervous. He killed people for a living, was on the brink of getting killed every single day, and this was making him nervous. 

“I- I- I- I- I don’t even know the fucking lines, idiot!”

“Well, that’s why god invented teleprompters.” 

Stolas hardly believed teleprompter could ever be described as a creation of god’s, but sure. Blitzø looked like he was on the verge of collapsing. Stolas tried to help out. “Shouldn't he rehearse or something?”

“No can do, we’re live in 10… 9…-” They guy started counting out, and with each second that passed Blitzø seemed to spiral even more.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, I- I- I can’t do this! No, not again.” He began pacing back and forth around the room. “I- I haven’t performed since-”

Alright, time to be the level-headed one. 

Stolas walked towards him. “Blitz, if your performance on stage is half as good as it is in bed, you’ll leave them… breathless,” he cooed, satisfied at the gulp he could see the imp take when he whispered the last word, free hand running over his throat. 

But no more time for that. He pushed Blitzø towards the stage. “Now hurry up and wow them so we can get back to finding Via!” Blitzø stopped at the door in front of him, and Stolas opened it, pushing him again, this time right onto the stage. “Break a leg, darling!” 

Suddenly, the lights were on. The crowd wasn’t huge, but there was a considerable amount of people there to watch the live recording. The actor who was already sitting on the couch delivered the first line. “Well if it isn’t our neighbor, Ronney! You feel that earthquake earlier?”

Blitzø looked terrified. Oh, no. “Say something,” Stolas urged him in a whisper from behind the camera.

Someone thankfully got him the teleprompter. He looked like he was barely present as he read his line from the screen. “Oh, yeah. Yeah! That was just… my wife… rolling out of bed.”

Stolas looked at the audience, worried no one would laugh at the joke. If no one laughed at his joke Blitzø might as well collapse. He was relieved when they started laughing. Blitzø, in turn, was beyond relieved- his eyes were almost sparkling with joy. He’d made people laugh!

Granted, they might have only done so because of the big signs telling them to, but Blitzø didn’t need to know that. Whatever was going on, it seemed to put him in a much better place, as he no longer looked like he was halfway through spiraling. It granted him the courage to keep on and even improvise. 

“Yeah! Yeah, and then that bitch hit her head on the way down and shattered her skull!”

Stolas didn’t even register the crowd’s reaction this time. He’d forgotten Blitzø is a performer. He couldn’t contain a laugh. 

Blitzø went on. “There was blood everywhere. Peed her pants,” Stolas was full on giggling now, though it took him a second to realize people had only now started laughing along. How did they not find this funny? No matter. 

Why did Blitzø even kill people anyway when this is what he’s supposed to do? He’s funny and- and… Blitzø winked at him, and immediately Stolas could feel his cheeks burn, downing some of the many water bottles he was holding to cool himself down. 

Where was he? Oh, right. He was funny and interesting and charming. Why had he given up performing? Perhaps Stolas could ask him about it at a later time.

The material of the show certainly wasn’t helping much. After a while, things were getting repetitive and, frankly, boring. And Stolas could see he was definitely not the only one who thought so, as the guy on his right had left the place altogether and the one on his left had literally fallen asleep.

Was this shoot ever going to end?

Blitzø’s character was rambling to the ugly tiny dog they’d brought in about it being the fifth couch he’d ruined that year.  “You know, maybe it's time I find you a new home, one that can put up with your attitude.”

A little girl walked into the set for the first time since the scene had started. “I can take him, Mr. Ronney! I’d be happy to adopt old Ugie and give him all the attention he needs!”

The crowd let out an ‘aw’ at the scene, everyone a little more interested now. Okay, good, it sounded like the episode was coming to an end, finally.

Blitzø held on to the dog’s collar, kneeling on the floor in front of it. “Yeah… yeah, maybe you should adopt.”

Oh, no, what was going on? Blitzø looked lost in thought, an unreadable look taking over his features. It didn’t look like a good sign at all. 

 “No. No, no, no, you can’t have her!” Her? “She’s mine and I love her!” Now that didn’t seem like acting. His expression was that of worry. 

He was right back to spiraling. 

“But Mr. Ronney, you gotta let me have the puppy. You’ve just gotta!” The kid tried salvaging the scene. 

Blitzø full-on hissed at her, shoving her away. “Don’t you touch her, you little anal fissure!”

Yep, he was definitely not doing well, whatever it was that suddenly caused this. Stolas found himself stuck, debating whether he should go there and do something.

The crowd laughed at what Blitzø said, which had been good before, but it was terrible timing now. “Oh, you think this is funny, assholes? She’s not fit to be a mother! I saw her doing lines of coke in her dressing room!”

“Hey, maybe-” Stolas tried talking to the cameraman, but was interrupted by the commotion of the bodyguards from earlier trying to get to Blitzø and contain him. 

Bad idea for them, but they didn’t know that yet. 

Another actress tried, once again, to salvage the scene, which was bonkers. What was there to even salvage after this? “Now, uh, Ronney, I think maybe you should-” she tried taking the dog from him, which was clearly the wrong move here. He pushed her onto the ground, her wig even falling off in the process. 

“No! You can’t have my baby, bitch! I’ll never get rid of her!”  Oh. This was about Loona. He took out his gun, swinging it around. One of the bodyguards tried tackling him to the ground- wrong move again. Without a second to think, Blitzø shot him in the head, still holding the dog as he did so.

And then it was chaos.

 In a couple seconds, Blitzø had already shot at least four people, and many more were coming to try to stop him. 

Yeah, time to do something, Stolas. “I’m coming, Bliiitzz-” he exclaimed, tripping over himself on the way to the commotion. He tried making his way into it, excusing himself, but to no use. Grabbing the last water bottle left on him, he threw it on someone as a last attempt. 

For… some reason… it worked. He didn’t even want to know what was in this place’s water, because the moment it touched the producer guy’s skin, it started burning its way right off, which was disturbing, but also wildly convenient at the moment. In an instant, the entire set was engulfed by fire, chaos running free as people screamed and ran around aimlessly. One guy almost tripped Stolas, and the prince would certainly have fallen if Blitzø didn’t grab him by the hand, pulling him up to stand again. 

“Alright, let’s go find our daughters,” Blitzø announced. The sight was one for the books, in Stolas’ humble opinion- he stood, holding him in place, shirt quite literally ripped open and gun in his hand, looking fiercely into the distance. The fake hair was a little distracting, but oh was this working for him.

Focus, Stolas! He snapped himself right out of it as they walked out.

“So, what happened back there… it was about Loona, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” They both stayed in silence for a couple minutes, as Blitzø dragged Stolas around the streets. “Where are we going?”

“Well, where do goth teenage daughters go?” Blitzø showed him his phone screen as he tried to look for Not Topic on his maps app, but it kept suggesting to him this place called Hot Topic, which was a stupid knock-off name for a store. “If we could just find where-”

A portal appeared right in front of them, startling them both. Loona walked through it first. 

“Oh, Loona, my sweet baby girl! I’m so sorry! I’ll never replace you no matter what you-” Blitzø ran up to Loona, meaning to hug her. She wasn’t having it, literally kicking him off of her. Stolas was startled by that, not used to this kind of… affection. “You’re good,” was all she said.

“Dad, I’m so sorry,” Octavia started, looking at the ground as if embarrassed at herself. 

Stolas threw himself onto her immediately, shifting out of his human form and interrupting her with a hug. “I’m just relieved you’re okay! But what could possess you to do such a thing? You know I haven’t taught you spells like this yet.”

“I just wanted to see the stars you promised.”

“The stars?” Stolas looked around, confused. He gasped when he realized what Via meant. “Anathoths’s tears! Oh, no, my dear, sweet Via, I am so-”

Octavia was the one to interrupt him with a hug this time, holding him tight. “I know, dad. It’s okay. You’re here now.”

He smiled, holding her closer to his chest, relieved. 

“Thank you,” he told y/n, holding a hand of hers in his for a brief second, to show his gratitude was sincere. “For finding her. And keeping her safe.”

Blitzø turned to face her too. “S´ppose I should say thank you too or whatever.” He eyed the two holding hands with a weird expression, and it made them withdraw them in an instant.

“Where would the two of you be without me?” Y/n quipped, trying to lessen the awkwardness of whatever had just happened. 

“Okay, don’t flatter yourself too much now,” Blitzø feigned annoyance, but clearly tried to fight a smile. He tried to hug Loona again, but she slapped him across the face with the Grimoire. She didn’t look irritated though. Stolas realized it really was her weird way of showing affection. 

Some sort of colorful shooting stars appeared in their sight but it was as if they were coming from the ground and going through some sort of explosion when they hit the night sky. Weird. Stolas had never seen those in his books. 

It was pretty, nonetheless. 

“What the fuck is that?” Loona questioned, seemingly also enamored by them.

“My acting career,” Blitzø replied bitterly. 

“They’re called fireworks,” y/n explained to them. 

“Fireworks?” Stolas questioned, intrigued. He kept forgetting how much she knew about this realm, and he almost felt inadequate when he was reminded of it. But he’d ask more about them later. 

Now, he was watching the stars with his daughter. 

“Ooh, Look at that one! Did you see that one?” Via asked, excited, and his heart swelled. He’d live in this moment forever if he could. 

“Now, where the fuck are M&M?” Blitzø questioned, which disturbed the moment a bit, but he supposed it was a fair question. Where were the other imps all day?

“Last Mills told me they were…” y/n took out her phone, re-reading the texts sent between them, “‘singing a love-song duet for money’,” she paraphrased.

“Well that makes no sense. Hold on.” Blitzø took out his own phone, texting Millie. She replied within the second.“They’re… still at the alley, apparently.”

“I’ll conjure them a different portal,” Stolas tells them all, waving his hand and conjuring one of his own. “We should return now.”

[. . .]

Back at the palace, Stolas tried to make things seem normal. “So, was your visit to the human realm eventful, at least, sweetheart?”

“Oh, not that much. I spent the whole day trying to find some place where I could see the stars. Turns out you can't really see the stars from there.”

Stolas’ mood deflated. Via noticed. “It’s fine though. I took some cool pictures and we got to see the fireworks!”

“I am really sorry I missed Anathoth’s tears, my sweet Via. I really am.”

“I know you are. I talked to Loona. And Y/n.”

“Whatever about?”

“Well they said you’re not perfect. And you fuck up sometimes. Which is true. But they also said you’re trying, and you’re making an effort. And I can see that now. That’s good for me.”

Stolas couldn’t find his words for a couple of seconds. “...I’m glad it is, darling.”

“I like her.”

“Who?”

“Y/n. As much as I don't like that you… you know. She’s not that bad, I guess.”

“And Blitzø?”

“Don’t push it, dad. That’s all you’re getting from me. I’m gonna go to bed now, alright?” She walked over to him, kissing his cheek. “G´night, dad!”

“Goodnight, Octavia.”

As soon as she was out of sight, he broke down. 

How awful of him, to be so absorbed in his own chaotic life that he didn’t remember, didn’t notice. 

What kind of father was he? 

Was he really the kind to let his daughter think that him fucking up all the time was okay? That it was enough because he was trying? 

Stolas wished to be a father who was there. Who didn’t fuck up. A father who remembered important things and didn’t dismiss his own daughter when she was trying to talk to him about them. A father who didn’t ever have to worry about her being in danger because he paid attention, and prevented her from getting herself into dangerous situations. 

Amidst his own drama, he’d forgotten to be a father altogether. 

How selfish. How awful. How disgusting.

Perhaps whatever it is he had with the two demons did have to end, he reflected. At least in the way it currently stood. 

He had obligations more important than spending his time worrying about whether his feelings were requited, analyzing their behavior for a sliver of hope, tending to their times of need. 

He’d had the time to think of himself, but it seemed he couldn’t trust himself to do so without forgetting to think of others all around. 

And now it was time to think about Octavia. 

He had to be a parent, and if he was unable to do it right while his life was a mess, then he was solving that mess altogether.

He’d deal with the consequences later, and if it shattered him, then so be it. 

[. . .]

Stolas tapped his foot on the floor as he waited, catching himself inspecting the feathers in his forearm and trying to resist the urge to  try and pluck some, more to not make a mess out of the room than to stop the harm of it. For better or for worse, the bandage around his unhealed arm made it impossible to do it without causing excruciating pain. 

The huge door was pulled open in front of him, and he stood up from the couch in the waiting room. 

“Stolas!” Amodeus called, opening his arms to greet him. “Hey there, birdy babe. Haven’t seen you since you crashed my club.” Stolas grimaced at the memory, following the Sin into his office. “How you been?” Ozzie closed the door behind them, leading him inside. He let out a laugh. “Still getting your kink on with my girl and that feisty imp?” 

This was going to be uncomfortable. Stolas let out a nervous laugh, trying to calm himself down before he can get to what he wants to say. 

But he’s doing this. He’s giving them the crystal and setting them free. Free to make a choice, whatever that choice ends up being. 

Stolas almost hopes they will choose him. No, he fully does.

But that’s not his call to make.

Yeah, he’s doing this.

“Well, um, that’s actually what I’m here about.”

A/N:  first bonus chapter comes tomorrow or the day after that! look out for it it has a little hint of something we'll find out in a later chapter <3 i hope you guys like this one, i'm a little self-conscious abt it but it's exactly what i intended it to be so.

[weirdmorefics]

So Very Basic- Spencer Reid X Reader

A/N- This may have just been an excuse for me to infodump about Pride and Prejudice but I swear the fic is still good! Reader is also very Autistic coded but I am Autistic so that happens a lot when I write hope you don't mind.

Pronouns- She/her

Tooth-Rooting Fluff

Word Count- 822

Summary- Spencer judging your book tastes on the jet back home.

Spencer and I have made it a habit of sitting next to each other every flight home. We usually talk about the recent books we have finished or are currently reading. Sometimes we just sit in silence and read together. These are my favorite moments in my life I never feel calmer in the jet with Spencer by my side or across from me. This time it felt different though Spencer's eyes have not left me once I swear he hadn't flipped a page of his book.

"Hey Spence, What's your book about?" I say trying to hint at the fact that I can obviously see he has not flipped a single page.

He seemed startled by my sudden question but proceeded to tell me the entire synopsis of his book.

I slam my book shut and shout, "You have read that book already!"

He seemed perplexed by my reaction "There is no rule against rereading books I think authors would prefer you reread their works."

I groan, "There is when you spend the whole flight staring at me distracting me from my book."

Spencer flushes and I am one hundred percent sure I am right now.

"Hotch the children are fighting again!" Rossi shouts like a mother making me shake my head at him.

"Hotch Spence is poking meee," Emily teases in her best Y/N impersonation. JJ of course joins in playing the role of Spencer, "I am not Y/n." She draws out my name.

Spencer and I look as red as two tomatoes and my safe space has turned into an inescapable nightmare.

He leans in and whispers in my ear, "You know this is your fault for picking the most basic Jane Austen novel."

I gasp dramatically which of course just causes more stares from the team.

Derek sighed knowing this Y/n gasp all too well, "Pretty boy what are you doing offending Y/n? Do you want to listen to another one of her defensive rants for thirty minutes?"

"I quite enjoy them," Spencer smiles.

Rossi rolls his eyes, "You would."

I stand up, "Pride and Prejudice is beautiful from its book, it's movie, and it's BBC Special!"

JJ sighs," Here she goes."

"The drama in the book is spectacular as it delves into each sister's feelings about marriage and how at the time it was their only option. Don't even get me started on the twenty-seven with no prospects speech! Oh my goodness Darcy is the perfect match for Elizabeth with them both being so headstrong makes for the best enemies to lovers! Speaking of Darcy in the film when he does that hand-clench thing it was not even in the book! It wasn't even scripted! Which made me feel he was the perfect actor for Darcy he understood the role perfectly!" I ramble out putting my hand on my chest the rest of the team is annoyed at another one of my outbursts but Spencer is looking at me like I am the only person on the plane and I flush when I meet his eyes.

Hotch shouts at me, "L/N would you sit down we are about to go into a patch of turbulence." He of course says this too late and I embarrassingly fall on top of Spencer.

I immediately try to scramble off Spencer but he holds me there. I look away from him trying to hide my flushed face and he asks if I am alright.

"Yup, just mortified but everybody needs a good daily dose of that am I right." I smile trying to play it off but I play with my hair a common tell of mine that everyone in the BAU knows by now.

"You know I have never seen the Pride and Prejudice film," Spencer says slyly.

My eyes light up "You must see it! It's on Netflix I have seen it over a hundred times! I can probably quote all the words by now."

"I actually don't have Netflix I don't really watch television," He rubs the back of his neck.

"That's fine I could totally bring my laptop to you to watch it! Or we could watch it at my apartment!" I ramble out coming off more excited than I meant to.

"That sounds great," Spencer smiles, "Do you really know all the words you could recite some now?" He teases.

I turn the deepest red I think I have ever been in my life and of course, Derek has to jump in.

"Oh pretty boy has moves," he whistles.

Spence rolls his eyes "Shut up Morgan."

"Could we all shut up? Some of us like to rest so we can actually focus on work when we get back." Hotch says in his typical annoyed-with-us voice.

"I guess reciting Pride and Prejudice to you will have to wait," I whisper into Spencer's ear it was finally my time to make him blush.

[erendur]

Maedhros needs a hug.

I think we all agree (well, most of us at least), that Maedhros needs a hug, at the very least.

So I was thinking, what if he was adopted by a group of lesser fire spirits after he threw himself in the chasm (I could bet good money on the fact that a fanfic has already been written based on that idea, but am too lazy to check).

The chasm he threw himself in is probably a major, big-ass one - he’s a Fëanorian after all, I think he would leave in style. So there were bound to be at least a few lesser fire spirits hanging out there, with not much to do. Corrupted evil spirits have plenty to do, what with torturing people, murdering them or creating monsters, but the non-corrupted ones probably have plenty of time on their hands.

So suddenly, there's this gorgeous Elf throwing himself in their chasm. And they’re super thrilled, because the Ainu of Valinor get plenty of pretty elves hanging around them, but the lesser spirits of Middle-Earth, not so much. Plus, when they get closer, they notice that it’s not just any Elf, but a Fëanorian, a super-fiery one, one they’ve probably sneakily had a look at when he was in his Father’s forge at some point (I’m convinced fire spirits regularly sneaked into Fëanor’s forge fire to have a good look at him and his family of fiery hotties).

I’m imagining a kind of Monthy Python’s Holy Grail’s Castle Anthrax situation there : they all jump on his fëa as fast as they can, to make sure he doesn’t escape towards Mandos’s halls or any funny business like that, and of course Maedhros doesn’t put up much of a fight given that :

He’s super tired, even in disembodied fëa form ;

He very much does NOT want to go to Mando and, as far as he had planned ahead, was determined to give him the slip. He’s already been imprisoned once, thank you very much, he’s not doing it again.

So when Mandos finally comes looking for him, the fire spirits hide him in under a fire blanket and pile of throw pillows or whatever the equivalent would be in a fiery chasm, put on their most innocent look, and say they’ve seen nothing.

“An Elf ? Why would there be an Elf in a fire chasm ? We haven’t seen any Elves around here. And even if we had, they’d been gone by now. In this direction, yes, over there. Nothing to see here, no Sir, certainly no murderous fiery Elf.”

Mandos doesn’t press the matter too much, because he’s got a group of Avari Elves that have eaten poison berries to take care of, and he already feels the start of a headache coming.

Maedhros spends the next age or so being absolutely pampered by the fire spirits, who can’t believe their luck. They braid his fëa hair and make him fiery buttered crumpets. They chill on the fiery sofa and they make him laugh by telling mean jokes about the water spirits and making funny impersonations of Ulmö. I’m picturing an Odysseus/Calypso situation there. He’s having a nice time. He’s got no one to manage, he’s not in charge of any siblings, he’s got no hopeless war to fight and no Oath to fulfil. He can finally relax with his fire spirit pals.

Eventually, someone spills the beans to Mandos. Of course, it’s a water spirit. They’ve been eyeing Maglor for an age, holding their breath as he gets closer and closer to the water, hoping - surely, this time he’ll go in !- but he never does, so since they can’t get their hot pet Elf, it’s unfair that the other ones do.

Mandos decides to kill two birds with one stone on this one, and sends Fingon to get him. He’s been trying to get rid of Fingon for almost as soon as he’d arrived - “You did a magical rescue ! Manwë sent you his eagle ! You waged a war against Evil ! You died a heroe’s death ! You have nothing to do here !” - but Fingon has always stubbornly refused to be reembodied until Maedhros had at least arrived. He’s got five other Fëanorians plus a bunch of their followers who also refuse for the same reason. He thinks he’s finally got a solution.

So by the time Fingon arrives in the fiery chasm, Maedhros has chilled and relaxed enough that he is able to consider the whole atone for his sins in Mandos in a more sanguine way. It will be mostly fine. He did some terrible things. He won’t be tortured. He’ll be ok. Fingon will be there. So he only puts up the bare minimum of a fuss before following Finno.

“I can’t go back, I’m an accursed kinslayer. Everybody there reviles me. There is no hell so profound that is sufficient to punish the tenth part of my sins…” (He has spent hundred of years hanging out with Maglor, who has some serious Drama-Queen tendencies, and also came up with that last line before Marguerite de Navarre).

“Come on, Mae, not everyone reviles you, there are many people who are waiting for you there, and you’ll get reembodied eventually…”

“Do not insist, dear friend, I am the most accursed of the accursed, I’ll never finish atoning for my sins, I'll be cast aside, universally hated, like I deserve…”

“Maitimo Nelyafinwë ! Stop it this instant ! You’re going to Mandos now, and you’re going to be reembodied, and you’ll give a kiss to your Mom you’ve been waiting for you all this time !”

So he leaves, much to the chagrin of the fire spirits. Well, at least, they all had a good time.

[mooncalvin]

Across the hall (pt. 2)

Summary: just George and you getting to know each other a bit better.

Warnings: pure smut. Choking kink, Dom!George, and much more.

Words: 4k

A/n: I'll leave this here and go back to my cave. I just finished uni and now I have much more time for writing so let's just see how it goes. Hope you like this very much!

A few days later you two meet at the same caffee of the last time.

“So what about Georgie?”

You flush once again “I mean, he is really nice, I don’t really know much about him”

“It’s not like you have to know an awful lot of someone to want to fuck them” she stated “By the way, I think he likes you too, we went to see him on Tuesday and he couldn’t shut up about you and your paintings, and he isn’t really an artsy guy, you know?”

“But before this , he barely even looked at my direction, I’m sure he didn’t even know I existed” 

“Girl! The only reason I went for sugar to your house is because he said you looked nice and didn’t want to go by himself, we weren’t even baking a cake” her answer took you by surprise.

“Lily!”

You kept talking to her as the days went by, you were more similar than what you would’ve thought. But he wouldn’t stop bringing up George, dead-set on getting you two together.

You haven’t seen him since the last interaction at your apartment one week ago. So you were surprised when you saw him knocking at your door.

“Hi” you greeted him, failing to hide your smile “is there anything you need”.

“Not really” he answered “I thought it was only fair to invite you for coffee at my place since you invited me the other day.” he proposed to you shyly.

“Sure I would love to,” you said enthusiastically.

You walked to his flat, very different from yours, sober and modern style, almost impersonal, probably because he has recently moved in. You smiled when you saw some of his helmets and pictures of a much younger him from when he was in the lower racing categories. 

“You were cute here” he smiled as a red layer covered his cheeks.

“Well, do you want to sit down? I can put on a movie or something while I prepare the drinks” he muttered.

“Yeah, sure”. After a while he returns and sits next to you, fairly close to you, but not enough. Neither of you started a conversation at first, feeling a bit awkward. It’s him who breaks the silence.

“How is your artwork coming?” you turn to him to answer.

“I finished the piece I was working on when you visited, now I’m working on a personal piece.” he hummed and turned his gaze to the tv. A while after, you turn your head to discover him already looking at you. This man has to be interested in you, right? The looks he’s been giving to you since you’ve entered his apartment screaming “I’m thinking about fucking you right now”. He wouldn’t be smirking and staring at you if he didn’t want to sleep with you. But were you going to act on it? Hell no.

“So, you are a formula one driver” you stated.

“I am indeed” he answered.

“And how is it?” you asked, genuinely curious about it.

“Well, I’ve been racing all my life and formula one is the top of racing, so it feels like an actual dream but it also has its flaws. I don’t really like all of the press stuff and how paparazzis and magazines intrude into your private life, ” he said. You bite your lip while listening to him.

“If you don’t stop biting your lip like that I don't know how much more I could control myself” he mutters so quietly that you almost can’t hear him, but you do. Your eyes go wide as you freeze, watching how he licks his lips as he approaches you “God I want to fuck you so bad.”

All the breath leaves your body, heat rushing to your core. Your cheeks are bright red, heart shaking as you look at him. 

He actually wants you. He wants to fuck you.

All you can do is look at him, muttering a quiet “George…” Before he is leaning over you, body pressing against yours, lips so close that you can feel his hot breath, hands gripping your chin. You can feel the slight hardness poking at your stomach so you look down briefly before looking into his eyes again. 

George’s blue eyes stare into yours, watching your every movement. Your lips are practically brushing each other. And his hand goes to your hip, pressing you close to him. A moan escapes your mouth before his lips are fully into yours, silencing you. 

It takes you a second to respond to the kiss. But then you feel his lips move against your and follow, kissing him with passion. Your hands come up to hold onto him. One pressing against his cheek and the other on the back of his head, so you can run it through his hair. He presses you harder against him as his other hand goes to your hair tugging it, leaving your neck uncovered, so he can start to kiss it and bite it.

He lets out a little moan when you pull his hair to bring your lips together again. 

One of his hands moves up to your neck, wrapping around it and adding a light pressure. You take his bottom lip with your teeth , pulling back and biting down lightly before pulling away from his lips entirely.

He stares down at you, hand wrapped around your neck as you pant and whine, legs wrapped around him squeezing while you attempt to grind into him.

“Do you like it rough sweet girl?” A laugh escapes him, fingers pressing into your throat a little tighter for a moment, you moan out, nodding your head.

Right now you feel like you’ve never before, relinquishing all your control to George as your mind goes fuzzy and your pussy gets wetter.

Both of you moan when George grinds his cock straight into you, the friction scratching right against your clit.

He buries his head into your neck befores going upwars, his mouth coming to rest beside your ear.

“I’m going to take you into my room and I’m going to eat this pussy before fucking you raw. Is that alright darling?” your pussy clenches as  and your head is nodding before he grabs you under your thighs and picks you up, walking through his apartment towards his bedroom.   

You bounce on the bed when he throws you down, giggling while you lay there and stare at him.

He stands at the end of the bed, tall and imposing.

You watch as he takes off his t-shirt, his body skinny but full of muscle, wanting nothing more than to rip the rest of his clothes, but he is quicker as he grabs your legs and slides you down the bed.

“Do you want this sweetheart?” he stares down at you with a smirk, palming his erection through his trousers. You glance at him, nodding your head. “Words, darling”

“Yes,” you mutter.

“Yes what? Your eyebrows furrow, and you take a moment comprehending what you heard before you realise. 

“Yes sir” you practically moan.

He lets out a groan at your words, hands rushing to undo your belt and take off your trousers, sliding them down your legs, leaving you in only your panties.

You’re grateful that you didn't choose to wear your teddy bear panties, maybe you knew that something like this could happen.

George moans when he sees your soaked underwear, a hand reaching your covered pussy. You whine and move your hips up, only hoping that he would do something else. “George…” Suddenly he is rushing to pull your pants down your legs, spreading them and throwing them over his shoulders as he kneels in front of you.

You lay there in anticipation as George lays open mouthed kisses on your thighs. He continues to tease you, coming closer to your core before moving away. Your whine at the teasing.

“So desperate for me, aren’t you?” When you look down at him, he’s still looking at you, lips puffy from all the kisses you shared. “If you beg me I might just consider going further love” he says before nipping the skin of your thigh. 

Your legs tighten around his head “Please, George, please, I need it so bad”. He scoffs against your leg, a hand going up to caress your ass gently, before laying a smack onto it, making your hips buck into him.

“I don’t think I remember what I told you to call me, was it that?” He says sharply.

“Please sir…” you let out another whine as he licks a strip up your pussy, getting the attention you needed.

“You taste so good, sweet girl” he says before diving back and running his tongue all the way to your clit, sucking it.

You moan out, and your hands fly to tangle in his hair and pull. He lets out a moan and brings an arm to hold your hips down, continuing his duty.

You cannot stop moaning, a pressure building up your lower stomach as he continues with his torment.

He fucks you with his tongue, his nose digging into your clit, one of his hands harshly gripping onto your thighs as they rest on his shoulders. All you can do is look down and watch him, eyes almost closed because of the pleasure.

His hand releases your leg and comes to your pussy, one of your fingers sliding into it, making your grip on his hair tighten. 

He puts another one not long after, curving both of them, hitting the spot that makes you see stars. He pulls his face away from you for a moment, his fingers still fucking you as he looks up at you, his chin covered in your slick. Your walls clench around his fingers, making him let out a laugh, motivating him to do it harder.

“Such a dirty little whore, aren’t you?” you tighten around his fingers as he says it, making him laugh again “You like that, don’t you? My little slut” you let out a moan indicating that you are going to come soon.

“I-I’m going to come” you stutter, not being able to form a coherent sentence.

“Yeah baby? Are you going to soak my fingers like the dirty girl you are?” you feel as he adds a third one, stretching you.

You moan as a confirmation, and he leans down again, sucking you hard as he continues pounding his fingers into you.

You feel your stomach pull tighter, as your release comes, moaning his name as you cum. Your legs shake, back arching as the pleasure invades you. That doesn’t make him stop, as he continues licking you through your orgasm.

He pulls away from your pussy, and lets his hand to his mouth, tasting your release as he lets out a moan.

He stands up fully, towering over you once again as you lay in bed, recovering from the orgasm that has just hit you.

You come back to earth as you feel him grab your waist and hike you up the bed, resting your head on one of the pillows that lies there. Then he dives down to connect your lips and your hands go up to wrap around his shoulders, nails digging into them. You continue to kiss as he grinds his erection over your pussy. You shake at the overstimulation, whining when his lips leave your mouth. You open your eyes to see him hovering over you, smirk on his face.

“From the moment I saw you I knew I had to ruin you” he says, eyes dark with lust. You moan at his words.

“Please fuck me George” you mutter, pulling him back down and kissing him fiercely. He pins your wrists to the bed, taking control.

He pulls away, releasing your arms and pulling you up so he can pull your shirt off, admiring your breasts in your bra before removing it. He pushes you back down and starts laying kisses across your chest until he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it lightly and pinching the other one with his hand. You moan, your hips grinding on him and hands on his hair as he continues to lap at your breasts, switching between them.

He pulls away and stares at you for a moment, “I’m going to fuck you so hard” he says before pulling away undoing his pants so he can push them and his underwear down, revealing his cock to you.

He’s actually bigger than you expected, precum dripping from his tip. You can’t help but moan at the sight as your legs open on their own, almost like a reflex, exposing yourself to him again.

He laughs at your eagerness. “You don’t mind if I fuck you raw, do you, love?” you shake your head quickly.

“Please I need to feel you inside me” You whine, becoming desperate for him. He smirks at you as he climbs the bed, crawling on top of you, getting himself between your legs, dragging his cock across your wet folds, making you leave a moan as he brushes your clit.

He grabs your legs, pushing them up slightly as he holds himself up on top of you, guiding the tip to your hole, pushing it slightly.

Both of you moan, your back arched at the feeling and your eyes closed. But they shoot open when you feel George wrapping one of his hands around your throat, adding a light pressure “that’s right babygirl” he whispers “keep your eyes open for me”.

Then he begins pushing in, your walls squeezing him as you struggle to keep your eyes open, gasping.

He mumbles a “fuck” and keeps pushing in, hand squeezing your throat slightly.

“Oh George…” you whine when he bottoms out, him fully inside you.

The feeling is just amazing. The stretch of his dick and the feeling of his hand around your throat sends you into a state of bliss, making you struggle to keep your eyes open.

George is not much better, his eyes are also closed as he refrains himself not to start pounding into you like some kind of animal, wanting to give you a second to adjust to his size before fucking you fully.

His eyes are open when he hears you mutter a little “please”. And he looks at your face as you stare up at him, begging him to move and fuck you.

He doesn’t waste a second, pulling out of you before sliding back in.

You both moan at the same time and he begins pushing in and out of your cunt, picking up his pace.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your hands come to grab his wrist as he continues to choke you, slowing your breathing in the most delightful way.

The coil is back on your stomach, this time faster than before. The feeling of his cock pushing against your walls is just as good as you had imagined, maybe even better.

You stare up at him as he pounds into you, his pace picking up as your eyes catch his. He slides the hand that was at your throat down your body until it reaches your clit, rubbing it.

“Open your mouth” he suddenly says. You can’t help but be confused, not really understanding why you should open your mouth, but you do it anyway. You watch as he spits in your mouth. “Swallow it”. You do it immediately, your pussy squeezing as he lets out a “good girl” after.

He lets out another moan before pulling out of you.

You whine at the emptiness, hands going to his arms before he’s grabbing you and flipping you over onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pitching them up, hips in the air and face buried in the pillows.

George grabs onto your ass, kneading it before leaning down and biting you, spanking you after you let a little moan. “You’re just the perfect girl for me”. You hear him mutter before his hands go to your hips and he starts pushing his cock into you again, making you moan happily.

Now he goes pounding into you, pace fast and rough as he fucks you into the bed.

His cock glides in and out of you, the occasional smack on your ass as you moan out.

You feel so close to coming. “Harder George please!”, you call out, painting and gripping onto the sheets tight as his trusts get harder.

He grabs your hair, pulling until you’re leaning up on your knees, your back to his chest, hitting deeper with each thrust. You moan together, and you turn your face to his, your lips connecting in a sloppy but passionate kiss. Your hand cradles his head, the other grabbing his side, as he continues to fuck up into you.

You feel the coil tighten and tighten, bringing you closer to relief. And as if he had read your mind, George’s hand comes to your clit, making you cum all over him.

You moan loudly, body trembling as he continues to fuck you, your hand pullin his hair tightly, even louder when you feel the heat of his cum fill you as he comes inside of you, his own moans mixing with yours as he connects your lips again.

You keep kissing as you come down from your highs. Breaths steadying when you pull away from each other.

You stare into his eyes as he stares into yours, the both of you panting. A smile makes its way into your lips, one forming in his no long after. One of his hands comes to cradle the back of your head, pulling you into him to kiss you again.

He then slowly pulls his cock out of your pussy, making you whine at the feeling, already missing him. He gives you a short peck and helps you lay down on the bed before pulling away from you entirely.

“I’ll come back in a moment, love” he says. You nod and close your eyes as you feel the exhaustion creepin into you.

You don’t even know how long it went until George gets back. You feel him spread your legs a little before a wet cloth is cleaning away the cum that pools your pussy. You half open your eyes and watch him, a dizzy smile on your face at his caring actions.

He glances at you when he’s done, climbing back into bed next to you.

He pulls you into him, pulling you to rest onto his chest. You wrap your arm around him, squeezing harder when you hear his heart beating faster.

You feel him lean down and press a kiss to your head, sighing in contentment at the moment.

After what could have been hours but were just a few minutes settling after your littler encounter, you pull away from him a little bit, leaning up as you look at him, him looking back at you. A small smile rests on his face, and you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips, humming with joy as his lips press back.

When you pull away you look back at him.

It’s now or never.

“Would you go on a date with me?” you ask him, anxiety crippling.

He can’t help but laugh at your question.

“I’d love to go on a date with you”.

Taglist: @mysticalnightenthusiast @vildetry06 @rens-daylight

[bluebelly-sun-serpentine]

August 28th, 2024

A couple days ago a fire started on the ridge above the big grove of eucalypts (picture number 4). Thankfully it was spotted quickly, a mild wind was blowing in the opposite direction, it had recently rained, and wildfire response resources were not deployed elsewhere; I watched the water tankers hovering over the spot for a while, grateful for everything, but especially for the fact that fire prefers to go up hill rather than down, and that this fire started in the ridge rather than the canyon. Eucalypts are not native to my area, and greatly increase the risk of out-of-control wildfires. They drop a ton of highly-flammable litter – tannin rich leaves that also leave an acidic, nutrient-poor soil few other plants can survive. So most of what's down in that grove is (also highly flammable) poison oak. Worse, if fire reaches the overstory, the whole thing can go up in what is basically one big explosion.

What you can see peeking through the afternoon fog in the first picture is over a century of cow-forward fire suppression; non-native grasses on (what is now public) land grazed by privately owned cows (damaging the watershed and increasing the risk of catastrophic fire in the long run). What you see in the bottom photo is an example of a more modern form of fire suppression: fire goats raised a couple counties away are hired to graze this field and clear small growth (mostly poison oak, since that's the most opportunistic plant around) annually in mid-summer, and it's mowed somewhat regularly. There have been attempts to thin or remove the eucalypts in the canyon entirely, but they are stubborn resprouters and starting from scratch poses its own dangers.

I think it's unlikely there won't be a catastrophic fire here in the next 50 years. There's just too much fuel. We just need an unseasonable lightning storm, a bad fire season with first responders deployed elsewhere, reckless smokers in the gully at night with the winds blowing west. Every year I prepare myself for this possibility. We've had wet winters and hot, dry summers, and that's probably only going to get worse. Why would I stay here?

I don't know. I can walk down into the canyon and the eucalypts, unaware of their own malignancy, yawn and groan as they bend to touch one another in the wind. I get to watch coyotes hunting for wild plums in the evening; the plums aren't native but I'd guess the coyotes don't know that, either. My neighbors plant gardens you couldn't grow somewhere without this much warmth and sea fog. Crows harass red-tailed hawks in the few redwoods planted here to evoke a recent, unreachable past. I know where the nearest great horned owl lives. I know what the arrival and departure of naked ladies means, which oaks are which and which I love most, when thimbleberries might arrive, how to scare a mountain lion, where to go to find cool elders and willows when I'm feeling hot and low, how to tell toyon from everyone impersonating toyon, when the newts migrate. One one side of the ridge I can hear the train screeching unmistakably, but if I hop over into the next watershed it's gone, replaced by bickering scrub jays, happy dogs, children playing near the creek far below me. Would you know how to leave?

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

warnings: Jareth jumpscares the reader a bit, Hoggle is a bit crass, reader kind of throws themself at Jareth, a few double intendres but they are mentioned in the movie so idk

AN: Happy Valentine's Day! My annual Labyrinth story is here!

"Run the labyrinth he said. 13 hours he said." I muttered to myself as I trudged along through the Goblin City. So far, none of the goblins had come after us. Hoggle trailed behind me, rubbing his hands. I still held his precious jewels but I doubt he cared about them anymore. "What are you muttering about back there Hoggle?" I looked over my shoulder at him, fed up with the noise he was making. Not knowing if the rest of the goblins would jump out because of it had set me on edge.

"What are you going to do if you get to the castle?" He finally asked. I shrugged. "I mean you're leaving right?" I nodded as he sped up to walk alongside me. "But I thought you wanted to do Jareth." I stumbled and Hoggle looked at me, hands out to try to catch me.

"What?!" I exclaimed. Hoggle was wringing his hands again. "Who said anything about me wanting to do Jareth?"

"I just thought..." He trailed off. "The way the two of you interact with each other..." I sighed and gazed up at the castle.

"Hoggle, it wouldn't work. He belongs here in the Goblin City. I have to go back. I should never have said that to my friend." I shook my head, clearing it and banishing all thoughts of the Goblin King out of my head.

"He will probably offer you a way to stay..." Hoggle murmured. "If he did, would you take it?" I shrugged.

"As long as my friend was safe and I wouldn't get turned into a goblin, maybe." My mind was racing. If I could stay, would I? Would I want to be bound to the Goblin King forever? Did I really want to stay? Shaking my head again, I focused on the task at hand. We were at the steps of the castle. "Hoggle, whatever comes next, I have to do it myself right?" He nodded. "Here. Thank you for coming with me." I tossed his jewels back to him.

"You didn't have to do that." He said in surprise. Smiling sadly at him, I started to climb the stairs. I looked back only once to see Hoggle wave at me before turning around and disappearing into the city. Climbing the stairs, I pushed the doors open and entered the empty throne room. Looking around, I saw the clock. Sighing in relief, I looked around for the doorway I knew to be there. There were three doorways behind the throne. Looking from one to the other, I started to worry. I still had time if I took the wrong door but I would have to find my way back to this room if I wanted to preserve that time.

"Think (Y/N). Think." I circled around the throne and stared at the doors. "Which one did Sarah take. Which one leads to the David Bowie impersonator." I closed my eyes and tried to visualize the scene from the movie. "She comes in and it's..." I turned slightly and opened my eyes. The doorway matched what I remembered from the film. "There." Running through, I took in the new maze. Smiling to myself, I walked to the edge and looked out of the staircase world.

"(Y/N)!" My friend called out for me. I waved down to them and took a deep breath, preparing to jump down the center.

"Expecting a song?" The voice made me jump and I turned around, putting some distance between myself and the edge. Jareth was leaning against the wall, playing with a crystal. "You won't get one." I smiled softly at him and shook my head.

"Didn't think I would." I looked over my shoulder and took a step back. I looked back at Jareth as he pushed off the wall. "Besides, you wouldn't get into it too much. I know what to do." He smirked and walked right up to me. We were standing nose to nose when he put his hand on my shoulder.

"Then do it." He whispered before giving me a gentle push. I stepped off at the same time and fell. A new platform materialized under me and I landed carefully, my friend having disappeared again. Jareth entered from a new doorway. "I assume you know what's coming." I nodded and Jareth rolled his eyes. "Then formalities and such." He waved his hand and I tried to stifle my laugh. It brought a smile to his face. "(Y/N)," my breath hitched as he said my name. Maybe Hoggle was right. "beware. I have been generous, up until now and I can be cruel."

"Generous?" I tried to fight the smile that was growing. "What have you done that's generous?" Jareth smirked at me, clearly seeing how amusing I found all of this.

"Everything." There was something about his tone that made me question all of my life's choices until that point. "Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that your friend be taken. I took them. You cowered before me. I was frightening. I have reordered time, I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you. I'm exhausted from living up to your expectations of me." He circled me. All I could do was watch him. Doubt was growing in me. Doubt that I could say the words. Doubt that going back was what I really wanted. Doubt that I could leave him behind. Doubt I could forget about him. "Isn't that generous?" His gaze softened as he came to a stop in front of me.

"I-I..." I looked around him, desperate not to look him in the eye. "Through dangers untold..." I fought to find something in me that wanted to go back. Something to focus on so I didn't have to make that choice while looking at him. "Dangers untold and hardships...." Jareth watched me, regarding me kindly and curiously. When it was clear I wasn't going to recite my part, he took control.

"Stop. Wait." He held up a crystal, taking a step closer to me. "Look (Y/N). Look at what I'm offering you." His voice had taken on a soft quality. When he didn't continue, I looked away from the crystal, meeting his eyes.

"My dreams." I whispered out. He shook his head but gave me a chance to continue. But I didn't take it.

"I ask for so little." Jareth took another step towards me. "Just let me rule you and you can have everything that you want." He had lowered the crystal, nearly letting it drop as his other hand reached out and gently took mine. His thumb ran over my knuckles, waiting for me to make a decision. I shook my head, the thoughts running rampant as I tried to find any reason to go. "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave." Jareth whispered, gently pulling me closer to him. "The choice is yours. I've done all I must." Slowly reaching up, I cupped his cheek.

"My friend will return?" He nodded, gently leaning into my touch. "And I won't become a goblin?" He shook his head with an amused smile.

"Where would you get an idea like that?" He chuckled. "Your friend will return to your world. If you choose to stay, you will remain as you are. With me. If that is what you so choose." Jareth watched me carefully. Letting go of his hand, I reached out for the crystal. "You need to be sure." He warned. I nodded.

"I'm sure." I touched the crystal just as Jareth leaned forward and kissed me. The world around us shimmered as we were returned to the throne room. Jareth pulled away, smiling softly at me. I looked around the room, surprised by the subtle use of magic. A second throne had appeared next to the first.

"For you." He whispered as he watched me take my seat.